TWD One-Shot/Imagines

Herschel}Season 3

*Your POV*

You, Herschel, Carol, and Maggie are all going into the prison's infirmary without saying a word. Y'all knew that there was a slim chance of Lori surviving labor. Herschel Dias that it would stress out the baby of she came with y'all.

With your machete raised, you clear out the room within seconds. Only one walker was in there anyways. As you make your way to the front of the room, you glance down at the decaying corpse. You gasp when you realize that the walker looks just like Tomas. Scary.

Herschel motions for y'all to sit down while standing up near the chalkboard like a teacher on a Friday morning with a small class.

With a loud squeak, you're seated in an uncomfortable chair that made your bottom itch. You ignored the sensation as Herschel begins to talk.

"Alrighty, who knows where the utteren wall is?" He asks while pulling out a map. It has a female body planned out showing all the veins and such. You almost gag at the fact that tor body is so complex.

*Several questions later...

"Herschel?" You ask timidly. You have never asked this before and your scared.

"What's wrong missy?" He asks joyfully. Y'all have grown close after all the time on the rode.

"Who's gonna put her down if we have to?" You respond looking straight into his caring and friendly eyes. He heaves a large sigh and loos at his at his hands.

"I've been trying not to think about that. But with the baby being overdue, forced too," he starts while gathering his thoughts.

"I don't think Rick should do it, or carl," you say. Carl and Rick were your best friends and you would step in front of them to take a bullet in your head or a painful bite from a deceased human.

"Yes. But who would then?" Herschel asks already knowing the answer. He knows that y'all are family. You basically became Carl's mother after Shane died.

"I will. beside I owe it to Lori," you say. Feelings of regret for acting like a jerk to her about her being knocked up in the end of the world as y'all knew it.

"I know. Child, where are your rubber bands?" Her asks pointing to your oily hair hanging around your dirty face.

"I kinda wanna chop it all off, will you help?" You say with nervousness clouding your voice. Before the world went to shit, you would never have cut your hair. Some said you were in Kiev with it. Others said that you would just look weird bald.

"Of course child," Herschel as were while walking over to a drawer full of all kinds of medical supplies. He turns around to face you with a pair of cutting shears with a smile on his worn face.

He comes behind you and starts to chop off your beloved hair into fragments on the cold ground. You know it is safer not have short hair but you were still choking up. Your hair was like metaphor for your old self. The personality that was too sweet too often.

Now you will survive. You will outlive this plague with great people amongst your side.