Summary: Joel doesn't want to leave you to go on patrol - not when you, and the baby inside you, are his entire world.
A/N: 18+only. Soft, caring, protective Joel with pregnancy smut.
Pulling over some of my shorter works from AO3 đĽ°
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The wind howled through Jackson. Snow creaked on the roof of the house, threatening a slow avalanche. It had been like this for days now â weeks â with no let-up in sight. Winter had well and truly arrived, leaving nothing in its wake.
Inside, the warmth was deceptive. Cozy, sure and safe.
But Joel didnât trust safe. Not anymore. It didnât matter how many people told him Jackson was strong, Jackson was impenetrable â he could never fully believe it. Could never fully allow himself to relax, let go of old fears and just â be.
You were in the armchair by the fire, robe wrapped tight around your swollen belly, a cup of lukewarm tea in your hand. He was pacing again, coat still hanging patiently by the door. The patrol was due to head out in fifteen minutes, but he hadnât moved to get ready. Had found a million and one things over the last hour that just needed attended to.
A door handle that had been loose for six months. A drawer in the bedroom that was jammed. A drip from the bathroom tap.
âJoel,â you said gently, already seeing it coming, like you had for days since his name had appeared on the rota again. It wasnât as though he wanted to avoid it â keeping the town safe was what he lived for â but as the weeks had passed and he had been steadily working within Jacksonâs walls, you knew heâd lulled himself into a false sense of security about it. As though no-one would ever ask him to leave you.
âNo.â His voice cracked like a snapped twig. âI ainât goinâ.â
You sighed. âItâs just a sweepâŚâ
âI know what it is.â He turned, voice louder now, frustration painted all over his face, eyes weary. âIâve done a hundred of âem. That ainât the point.â
You set the tea aside, watching him. Letting him have the space to say what he needed to say.
He crossed to the fire, leaning on the edge of the mantel like the weight of the world was pressing between his shoulders. âYouâre due in a coupla weeksâŚmaybe less. Youâre barely sleepinâ. That limp you had this morning?â He pointed at you. âI saw it, so donât lie.â
âIâm not lying,â you said softly. âItâs just pressure on my hips. Itâs normal.â
âNormal,â he muttered bitterly. âWhat part of any of this is normal? In what kind of world are men expected to leave their pregnant wives to go andâŚandâŚand try to hunt down monsters?â
You stood, slowly, your belly shifting with you, and he was at your side in an instant, holding you like porcelain. He barely let you cross a room unaided anymore.
You cupped his jaw, running your thumb over the rough of his bread. âJoel. Baby, I need you to breathe.â
He did, but only because you asked. His chest moved in a deep, shuddering way, like he was forcing air into lungs that didnât want it â like all the times when you asked him to do it in the past, on your journey to this place. When you saw him start to falter. Spiral.
âYou know this town,â you said. âItâs not like being out on the road. Weâre protected here. Iâve got Maria and Tommy down the street, Ellie around the corner at Dinaâs, and at least three other people whoâd run through the snow barefoot if I called.â
âIt ainât them Iâm worried about,â he snapped, then winced at his own tone. âItâs me. Me not beinâ here. Not beinâ fast enough, smart enough, hell â even strong enough anymore. I ainât the man I was twenty years ago. Even if Iâm here and somethinâ happens, what if IâŚâ he shook his head. âThinkinâ âbout it happeninâ when Iâm not hereâŚâ
You softened, heart clenching. You hate to see this self-doubt and since you became pregnant itâs only manifested and grown. Like he doesnât trust himself to be what you need anymore.
âNo, youâre better than you were twenty years ago, Joel. Better even than when we first met. Because now youâve got something to lose. And that makes you careful â makes you fierce. In a way that I love completely.â
He held your gaze, quiet for a long time, chewing over your words. âYou were sleepinâ on my chest last night,â he said finally. âHad your hand over the baby and I just couldnât stop lookinâ at you. Thinkinâ bout how goddamn precious you are. And I thought⌠if somethinâ happened to you â either of you â I wouldnât make it. I just⌠wouldnât. Not again.â
His voice cracked then. Just slightly, but enough that it made your own breath hitch. Heâd come so far in these last few years. Allowed light and love to seep into places that had long been left untouched in the barren trail from Austin to Boston to Jackson. Heâd become softer, and yet still strong â still protective.
You pressed your forehead to his. âJoel Miller, you are the strongest, bravest, kindest man Iâve ever known. You taught me how to live again when I thought there was no point and even when you werenât sure you believed it yourself. You took that gun out of my hands and taught me that life isnât over. That thereâs still good left and that we can make good things.â
You took his hands and placed them on your belly, where the baby moved beneath the surface with a ripple. âThis little one is a good thing. And youâre not gonna lose us, because we are right here. And weâll be waiting for you, like always. Nothing is going to happen, I promise.â
He blinked quickly and looked away, wiping his nose on the back of his glove like a boy caught crying in church. Like he didnât want you to see how much this all affected him, even though you already knew. Even though you lived and breathed it with him every day.
You kissed his cheek, breath floating at the edge of his mouth. âGo. Do your duty and then come back to us.â
He shook his head. âI donât deserve you, you know that?â
You smiled. âThatâs true. But I chose you anyway.â
He let out a wet laugh, kissed you so gently it nearly broke you, and finally â finally â pulled on his coat. His hands lingered too long on the buttons, too long at your shoulder, too long on the doorknob and you held your breath as you lowered yourself slowly back into the armchair, unsure if he would actually take the final step.
He looked back, one last time â as though he was committing your face, your body, the whole scene to memory â then slung the rifle over his shoulder.
And as the wind swallowed him whole, the door clicked shut, and you were alone â except, not really. Inside you, a heartbeat echoed his. You were never alone, not now. Leaning back, you rested one hand instinctively on your belly and the baby shifted again. Strong and sure. Just like their father.
And without meaning to, your thoughts began to drift. Back to the days before Jackson when you really were alone. When you thought that youâd never find anyone to heal the scars of what and who the outbreak had taken from you. When men were cruel and didnât stop to ask questions.
Youâd met Joel under the worst of circumstances. Blood on his hands as he ended a life and grief behind his eyes at things he thought you couldnât imagine. Walls so high it had taken months just to learn how to climb them â once youâd realised you wanted to, needed to.
And you did. One brick at a time. Sometimes with bloodied fingers. But you did it.
He didnât talk much at first. But youâd seen how his hands trembled when they werenât busy. How he flinched at sharp sounds. How his voice dropped when he spoke to Ellie â so careful, like words might hurt her if they came out wrong. Like he was scared she would run away from him.
And there had been times when heâd turned on you â spat words that you didnât deserve, pushed pain, anger and fear onto you that you hadnât been equipped to carry. But he always said sorry afterwards and you always accepted it.
But there was kindness, buried under the gravel of his voice. Kindness that came out in the smallest things. It was in the way heâd sharpen your knife without being asked. The way heâd stand between you and a threat, every single time, without hesitation. The way heâd leave extra firewood by your door when you first arrived in Jackson. The way heâd sat with you in the infirmary when you were sick, and the fever had you in delirium.
But youâd soon realised that it had been more than that. Because Joel Miller wasnât just kind for the sake of it. It was because he sensed something in you â recognised something that he needed, wanted.
The first time he held your hand had been after a sweep had gone bad. You were cold, shivering, teeth chattering, terrified out of your mind at what you had just witnessed. You thought youâd never have to see things like that again. It had shaken your faith in Jackson â in what you could have here. Youâd even talked about leaving â finding someplace else to call home.
He didnât say anything. Just reached out and took your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world for the two of you to be connected. And, in that moment, it was.
From then on, it was slow, gentle, careful. Like you were both learning to breathe again after years underwater. Over time, the kisses became more desperate, the touches more urgent and before you knew what was happening, you were experiencing the most passionate, tender, all-consuming love that spoke to your very soul. It was like nothing youâd ever imagined could be possible. The way he held you â like you were something he was afraid to let go of. The way he kissed you â like he couldnât believe you were his. The way he buried himself deep inside you â like he was entrusting you with a piece of himself every time.
Even though he told you, more than once, that he had nothing left to give.
You blinked, pulling yourself back from those memories, feeling your temperature creep skywards. It would do you no good to get worked up now, not when he wasnât here to relieve you â and boy have you needed relief recently. If only someone had warned you what pregnancy hormones could do to your libido. A slight turn of the head, a curve of the mouth and you were a puddle at his feet.
Not that he ever refused you.
Since youâd become pregnant and your body had changed, his gaze had lingered on you more and more â beyond that expected from any normal husband. There was awe in it. Not just attraction â though that was there, too â but reverence. Like you were something sacred heâd been allowed to touch. His eyes would travel from the curve of your shoulders to the heavy swell of your belly to the fullness of your breasts, marvelling at the way your body had changed, softened and blossomed with the life growing inside you.
âI ever tell you how damn beautiful you are?â heâd ask, voice quiet like he was afraid of breaking the moment.
You always smiled â cheeks flushed more from warmth than embarrassment. âMaybe once or twice.â
Then he would take you to bed and love you â gently, tenderly and yet with underlying fire that would leave you both breathless and spent, his hands cradling you, cradling your baby.
You smiled at the thought, your gaze drifting to the couch where the quilt was draped â the one that Ellie had given you last fall. Rough stitching, a little lopsided, but warm. A gift, sheâd said shyly â as though you might refuse it.
She hadnât said much when she found out you were pregnant, but you remembered the way her face shifted â shocked, scared, and then, slowly, a flicker of something softer. Hope, maybe. Or the fear of it. The fact that you might actually be a family again â or the closest thing to it. Things were hard between her and Joel right now â you knew that. Youâd seen how their dynamic had shifted of late, and you knew why, though you never spoke of it.
Salt Lake City were dirty words â never to be mentioned. Youâd lain beside Joel, night after night, as he re-lived his choice â the one you always told him had been right â listening as he talked about how distant they had become, how he couldnât bear to lose another daughter, how he wished it could all have been so damn different.
You couldnât help but hope that this baby might go some way towards mending things between them.
The wind was picking up outside now, rattling the windows. You stood and moved slowly, cradling your belly with both hands as you stared out into the inky night. The baby kicked once, hard, and you smiled.
âYouâre gonna love him,â you murmured aloud. âYour daddy. Heâs grumpy and stubborn and heâll probably embarrass you in front of your friends someday. But heâs good â so good. And heâll love you more than anything. Just like I do.â
The fire popped, and you jumped a little, then laughed at yourself as you wandered back over to the armchair, draping Ellieâs quilt across your legs and letting out a contented sigh, when the world suddenly went quiet. Too quiet.
The lights, the gentle hum of the portable heater, the porch lamp that always cast a warm yellow glow across the snow â out. The silence turned heavier. Thicker.
You didnât move for a moment â just listened to the new silence. To the sound of your own breath. To the wind, just a little louder now without the comforting buzz of life behind the walls.
Fear pricked up your spine. Not panic â yet â but that slow burn of old instincts coming alive.
The kind the world taught you before Jackson.
The kind Joel never let you forget.
You sat up straighter. âOkay,â you whispered to yourself. âAlright.â
It wasnât the first time the power had gone out in the last few months, and it likely wouldnât be the last.
The fire still burned, though low. Not enough to last the night, so you pushed yourself up from the chair again groaning slightly as your back ached beneath the weight of your belly. The baby shifted again â lower this time. Over the last few days, youâd felt them sink in your abdomen as though making preparation for that final journey.
Joel was right â you were getting closer.
âI know,â you murmured. âBad timing, huh?â
You lit a lantern from the hearth, the flickering light chasing shadows into corners and casting long, dancing shapes along the walls. You grabbed your coat and pulled it around your shoulders, the warmth already bleeding from the air.
You had to keep it together. For yourself. For Joel. For your baby. It had been so easy, in the years since youâd fastened yourself to Joel, to allow him to take charge â let him be the protector he craves. But, sometimes, you had to remember who you were before. Strong, independent, capable.
In the kitchen, you checked the emergency supplies. Joel had packed the cabinets with care months ago. Cans, water, candles, matches, extra blankets. A loaded revolver in the drawer, safety on â one that Tommy and Maria didnât know about.
His handwriting was on a note stuck to the shelf:
Just in case. Iâll always come back.
Your heart squeezed. He knew moments like this would come, moments when you were without him, and he was ready for them.
You lit another candle and placed it on the windowsill, just in case someone saw the light and came to check in. Hopefully Maria or Ellie, or even one of the younger patrol runners. You tried not to think about the other possibilities.
But youâd know if that happened. There would be alarms and bells and whistles and shouts.
But there was nothing but silence.
You walked slowly through the house, checking the windows. They were all locked. Covered. And there was no movement outside. Just snow and wind and the vastness of night.
In the bedroom, you paused by the window nearest the bed, looking out into the distance.
And then you heard it. A rustle.
It was small, distant. Couldâve been wind.
Couldâve been something else.
You gripped the windowsill, knuckles white. But you didnât call out. Didnât panic. Just stepped back, lit another lantern, and set it near the bed. If something came⌠youâd be ready.
Your hand drifted to your belly again, this time for comfort, and the baby gave a soft nudge in return.
âIâve been through worse,â you whispered, steadying yourself. âIâve been through worse and survived. I can do this. We can do this.â
Back in the living room, you brought the fire back to life with careful hands, just like Joel taught you â even if it had taken infinite patience on his part. More wood. Gentle prodding. Flame blooming again into warmth.
And as you curled up beside it with the revolver nearby and the quilt pulled tight, the wind howled louder, but you didnât shake.
You couldnât afford to.
Because even though the power was out, and Joel wasnât hereâyou were not alone.
The baby stirred again. A heartbeat within a heartbeat. And whilst Joel was out protecting the town â protecting you â your job was to protect it.
You couldnât let him down.
Joel was already on edge when the wind shifted.
It had been a routine patrol with Eugene. Snow. Silence. He hadnât been interested in conversation. Eugene was a yapper and there was only so much of him Joel could take. Get it done and get back to you â that was all he could think about. All that was keeping him going.
There had been a few deer in the tree line, tracks of something more, unidentifiable, but nothing alive enough to worry him. Not until he crested the last ridge and looked down toward Jackson, expecting to see it shining like a little patch of starlight in the dark, calling them home.
But tonight â darkness.
No porch lights. No streetlamps. No glow from the towers above the gate. Just the faint outline of buildings buried under snow, barely visible in the weak moonlight.
He pushed his horse forwards, ignoring Eugeneâs call from behind, hooves slipping on the slope, heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to escape. Cold be damned. He didnât feel it.
He didnât finish the thought.
He yelled as he approached the gate, but no-one answered and all he could do was leap from his horse and shove through it so hard it nearly tore off its hinges, shouting for the nearest patrol as he passed â but there was no one. No lights, no guards at their post. Maybe the power outage had thrown the whole rotation off. Maybe everyone was inside, keeping warm.
Or maybe something had gone wrong.
Maybe there were infected or raiders.
Maybe he was already too late.
He sprinted through the empty square, past dark windows and snow-covered signs. His breath steamed in great clouds, and his vision blurred â not from cold, but from fear. The old kind. The kind heâd tried hard to bury out on the road.
The house finally came into sight, and he burst through the front door, gun drawn â ready for anything.
But the only thing that greeted him was warmth. Flickering lanterns. A steady fire. Blankets on the couch. Quiet. And you â curled in the armchair like a painting from a life he never thought heâd earn.
You â wrapped in the quilt Ellie made, hand resting on your belly, face relaxed, breathing slow.
Joelâs legs nearly gave out.
He staggered forward, dropping the rifle to the floor, and sank to his knees beside you, hands trembling as he reached for your wrist. Just to be sure. Just to feel the pulse, your skin warm beneath his fingers.
You stirred slightly as his voice broke over your name, blinking, thick with sleep. âJoelâŚ?â
He pressed his forehead to your belly and exhaled, ragged. âItâs me. Iâm here. Youâre okay.â
You touched his hair, gently brushing snow from it. âYouâre soaked. What happened?â
âI saw the lights out. Thought â I thought somethinâ happened. I ran the whole way.â His voice cracked again. âJesus, IâŚâ
âSsshhhâŚIâm okay,â you soothed. âThe powerâs out, thatâs all. Iâve got the fire going and everythingâs fine.â
He didnât answer. Not right away. Just pulled you up and into his arms, gently, carefully, burying his face against your shoulder like he needed to feel you, to be sure you were real.
âI did everything just like you taught me, Joel,â you whispered.
âI canât lose you,â he exhaled, almost as though he hadnât heard you. âNot you. Not the baby. I canât. And for a second, IâŚâ
âYou havenât,â you said, lips brushing his temple. âWeâre right here.â
He stayed like that for a long time, holding you in the dim light as the storm curled around the house, as the fire snapped and hissed beside you both.
You were safe now â because he was home.
But something deeper shifted inside him.
He wasnât just a protector anymore.
He was a father again. A husband.
And that meant something - had to mean something to both of you.
His heart was still pounding, but slower now. Soothed by the knowledge you were safe, that he could feel you under his hands.
But - God - he needed to make sure.
âI need you, baby,â he murmured, hands and lips roaming over you. âI need you so goddamn badlyâŚâ
And you let him have you. You let him carry you to the bed, huffing slightly under the additional weight, lay you down, and gently peel the robe from your body. His eyes were dark â both from the candlelight but also with something more. Desire. Need. And you responded to him in kind, guiding him onto the bed beside you, fingers plucking at the buttons of his flannel whilst his hands swept over you, lingering at your breasts, rolling your nipples into pebbles before moving lower, down over the swell of your belly and between your thighs, expertly finding where you needed him the most.
Where you always needed him.
âSo damn beautiful,â he whispered, voice low, rough. âJesus.â His fingers skimmed through your folds, wet and pliant to his touch. âYou been waitinâ for me like this all night?â
You whimpered as he worked slowly around you, his thumb gently, painstakingly, skimming its way around your clit, one finger then another pushing inside you. Stretching, opening.
âIf Iâd known it was this bad, Iâd never had left.â
His lips brushed against yours and your body arched as he probed further, a gasp leaving your throat as his movements walked that line between gentle and firm. You were a wet, soggy mess â it wouldnât take much, not if he kept touching you like that, not if he kept talking to you like that.
The flannel slipped from his shoulders, boots kicked off, belt undone and jeans and underwear shucked off one-handed. Then he was above you, body hovered over yours, fingers still probing, lips claiming yours, softly at first, then more firmly, needy.
âRoll over, baby,â he murmured. âLet me hold you right.â
You shivered at the low rasp of his voice â half-command, half-prayer â and you turned gently onto your side, settling your head back against the pillow. Joel followed, curling around you from behind, his chest pressed flush to your spine, hand never shifting from where it needed to be.
His lips brushed the back of your neck, soft and reverent. His fingers didnât rush, until your breath caught and your hips tilted back toward him instinctively. Seeking â nay â demanding.
âLook at you,â he whispered, his voice thick. âSo pretty. So warm. So ready for me.â
You gasped softly, eyes fluttering shut as he coaxed pleasure from your body like it was second nature. He knew you â every inch of you. Every sound, every sigh. And now, with your body full of his child, your hips pressed back against him, your heart laid bare... he moved with the kind of hunger that came from love, not lust.
âJoel,â you whined. âPlease.â
He groaned low behind you, lips at your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin. âI got you, darlinâ. Always. Iâll always be here. Iâll always come back to you.â
âIâll always be waitingâŚâ
And then he was guiding himself into you, slow and deliberate, filling you from behind with the kind of patience that made your whole body tighten around him. The angle was deeper, gentler â perfect â his hand still between your thighs, strumming over your clit as he moved inside you.
You fisted the sheets beneath you, breath shuddering, overwhelmed by the sheer depth of it â not just physically, but emotionally. Every stroke was slow. Measured. Like he didnât just want to make you feel good, he wanted to worship you â the mother of his child â and he wanted to feel like he was home again.
His free hand slid to your belly, cradling the swell protectively as he rocked into you.
âYou feel so good like this,â he murmured, voice ragged. âSo damn beautiful. Carryinâ our baby⌠and still takinâ me so sweet. Just like that darlinââŚ.just like thatâŚso goodâŚâ
Tears burned behind your eyes â not from pain, or hormones, but from the sheer fullness of the moment. The feeling of being completely known. Completely loved. Youâd never thought youâd have this â not after the outbreak. But you and Joel were meant to find one another that night â meant to be connected like this, now and forever.
He kissed your shoulder again, biting now, slowing down even more, dragging every thrust out until you were whimpering softly, hips pressing back against him with quiet desperation.
âIâm close,â you gasped, hand reaching back to grip his thigh. âJoel â please â donât stop. More â harderâŚâ
He didnât stop, but he didnât speed up either â not right away. His fingers stroked you with just the right pressure, his breath hot against your ear, his voice a low murmur of your name, every promise heâd ever meant to keep and a reminder to himself of what he had.
âLook at you baby,â he whispered, hot breath coating you, movements increasing little by little with each passing second. âAll flushed and needy. Mine.â
And you were his. Utterly and wholly.
âTell me youâre mine,â he pleaded, hips beginning to snap, the hand that had been cradling your belly now shifting over your breast, cupping it, fingers rolling once more over one sensitive nipple.
âFuckâŚâ you panted. âYours Joel â always yours.â
âIâm yoursâŚoh God, Joel â IâŚâ
You came hard, trembling under the weight of it, Joel holding you through every wave, whispering praise into your skin.
âGood girlâŚthatâs it, baby, my good girlâŚâ
He followed soon after, body tightening behind you with a soft, rough groan, burying himself deep one last time before stilling, forehead pressed to the back of your neck, both of you panting, full of each other and nothing else.
He kissed your shoulder. Then your neck. Then the crown of your head.
âGettinâ addicted to you,â he murmured eventually against your hair. âCanât stop myself.â
âGetting?â You breathed, almost with disbelief. âJesus, Joel â Iâve been there for years. Keep up.â
You rolled to face him, tucking your body against his. He shifted one of his arms under your head, the other draped protectively over your belly. You let your fingers drift down across the scar on his abdomen â the one from Silver Lake, the one he always downplayed, though youâd been there to witness the full horror of it. One of a hundred moments heâd never intended to survive. But here he was.
With a life growing between you.
His breath was warm against your temple now. Steady. Solid. Comforting.
âYâalright?â he murmured.
You smiled sleepily. âMhm. Just⌠full of love. And firewood. And you.â
He chuckled low in his chest. âReckon Iâm the least useful of the three.â
âDonât sell yourself short,â you whispered. âYouâre very warm.â
âAnd handsome,â he added, smugly.
You rolled your eyes, snuggling closer. âThat too.â
âOur kidâs gonna be a heartbreaker. Hunk like me for a father, beauty queen like you for a motherâŚâ
You snorted softly before falling quiet again for a while, listening to the wind outside, the familiar groan of the trees, and the sound of Joelâs heartbeat beneath your ear.
You paused, almost afraid to ask the question. âAre you okay now?â
There was a hesitation, a slight stiffening of his body against yours â as though heâd forgotten all that had gone before, the memory forced back into his self-consciousness.
âYeah,â he breathed. âUntil the next time.â
Lifting your head, you met his gaze, his smile faltering a little, and the look that replaced it made your heart ache. Because you couldnât tell him there wouldnât be a next time.
âI didnât think Iâd get this. After everythinâ. After Sarah, after what I lost⌠I never thoughtâŚâ He stopped himself, swallowed hard. âYou make me feel like maybe I ainât just survivinâ anymore.â
You pressed your forehead to his. âThatâs because youâre not. Youâre living â we both are.â
âBut you also make it so damn hard to do that.â You pulled back. âNot because youâre doinâ anythinâ wrong â entirely the opposite. Youâre doinâ everythinâ right. Youâre livinâ in this world with me like itâs normal. Youâre lovinâ me like we ainât got nothinâ to worry about except whatâs inside this houseâŚâ
âIt is normal,â you cut him off, fingers pressed softly against his lips. âAnd Iâm not going to pretend that there arenât things out there to be afraid of, Joel butâŚâ you took a breath. âRight nowâŚthere is nothing to worry about except whatâs inside this house. You, me and our baby.â
He let out a long breath, closed his eyes and let the silence wrap around you both like another quilt, arms moving to tighten around your body again. And after a while, he whispered, âIâm gonna love this baby so much. Never thought I could love another child as much as I loved Sarah. But the thought of it also scares the hell outta me.â
You kissed the line of his jaw. âThatâs how I know youâll be a good father.â
He pulled you closer, impossibly close, and for a long time you just stayed like that â two people who had lost more than anyone ever should⌠now holding onto something precious.
Something worth protecting.
Outside, the storm began to ease. By morning the power would be restored, clean-up would begin and life in Jackson would return to normal. The new normal. The one you all had to live in â ride or die.
But, for now, you slept in the arms of the man who had often told you he had nothing left to give â but gave it all to you anyway.
The man you knew was going to tear his brother a new one come daybreak.
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