Carl Grimes Imagines

Imagine: Don't Leave

"Where's Carl?" you asked people rushing past you, not receiving an answer. "Somebody?" you looked through the crowd of citizens to find a friendly face, but there wasn't one.

You grunted in frustration up to the dark sky. You knew the plan was to hide out in the sewers, but you couldn't without Carl. He said he'd be with you, but he wasn't.

You were worried, biting your nails as the megaphone boomed once more, Negan's voice a countdown to the destruction of Alexandria.

You felt a hand pull on your shoulder and you turned to find Michonne, "(Y/N) we have to go," she pressured urgently, leading you to the drain.

"No," you protested, stopping in your tracks. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if anything bad happened to Carl and you didn't want him to make any stupid decisions to get him there. "I need to find Carl. Can you help me?"

Michonne pursed her lips for a moment as you gave her your most pleading look. "He said he'd meet with you?" she asked.

You nodded feverishly. "But he hasn't shown, I-I don't know where he is..." you looked to your left and right, scanning the area with worried eyes. There was a pit in your stomach that grew and grew, spreading throughout your body in a nervous sensation. Fear.

"We'll look for only a few minutes, but after that we need to go," Michonne told you sternly. You thanked her and took off running in the direction of the gate, hearing Michonne's footsteps thud behind you.

It was a risk to be so close to the entrance, to the saviors, but it was the only place you haven't looked. You ran, eyes scanning any open area in an attempt to catch his blue flannel and sheriff's hat.

"(Y/N), slow down!" You heard Michonne hiss, although, right before she could take hold of your elbow, you stopped abruptly, a shooting pain developing in your lower stomach.

You grunted as you held your stomach, bent over and taking deep breaths at an attempt to lessen the pain. You've been feeling them a lot more recently and you knew it was bad with the state your in, but you couldn't help it. Being in the apocalypse, you had to do what you had to do. There wasn't a choice to sit out or take a break--especially while you were at war with the Saviors.

"(Y/N)? Are you alright? What happened?" Michonne questioned worriedly.

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling as if something was being torn in your pelvis. It was the worst one yet and the completely wrong time for it to be happening. "I-I'm--" you tried to get out, but couldn't.

You sat down on the wet pavement, clutching your stomach. "I don't know..." you whimpered, clenching your jaw. "It's never been this bad." although you could guess it was from all the running you had been doing recently. It wasn't at all what a person like you needed to be doing.

"This happened before?" Michonne, who was knelt down on the ground beside you, asked. You nodded your head painfully. "Do you know why?"

You were quiet for a moment, wondering if you should tell her the truth. You hadn't told anyone yet, not even having said the words aloud, and you were scared of what her reaction might be. You wished you were able to confess under different circumstances, but it had been eating away at you for two weeks. A secret that you pushed down, already having enough to deal with while in the war. You knew you shouldn't have neglected it for so long, but it wasn't like anyone would've been able to do anything about it.

"Michonne..." you started, your voice quiet and shaky, "I'm pregnant." you looked at her with wide eyes, waiting for your reaction.

"What?" she asked, her voice low. "No, you--" she shook her head in disbelief, her nostrils flaring. Your stomach dropped--you knew now wasn't the time to be supportive, but this wasn't the reaction you were hoping for. But this was the reaction you expected; disgust, astonishment, anger... if it wasn't showing now, you knew it was soon to come.