The Walking Dead One Shots

"We'll be alright."

A short brunette stumbled along the road, a backpack hanging from her shoulders. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she walked. The moans of the walkers were far behind her, and her round tummy in front of her. She paused to drink what little water she had left, when a noise alarmed her. It was different from the garbled moans of the dead. It was a rumbling, not too far from her. She stood up, curling her fingers around the gun strapped to her waist.

"What the hell is that...?", she muttered to herself.

Swiping the hair out of her eyes, she stood up and walked forward. A blob of white appeared in the distance. Was that what she thought it was? The white mass approached rapidly and she could now tell that it was an RV. A smile appeared on her face before quickly dropping away. What if they're like the last group I met? I barely got away from them. The girl began backing away slowly before turning around and jogging slightly. The little child in her stomach slowed her down. She stopped to catch her breath for a moment, panic arising as she heard the car-no, cars-closing in. She stopped in the middle of the road, turning around. The RV loomed above her and she stumbled back, falling on the asphalt. The gravel scraped her palms as the RV came to a stop. A man in a sheriff's uniform stepped out, his gun held aloft in his hands.

"What's your name?" he called out, gun still pointed at the girl.

"A-Ana," she choked out, fear wrapping its cold hands around her throat.

"Are you bit?" he asked.

Ana couldn't bring herself to speak, only shaking her head in response. A boy, about thirteen years old, stepped out from behind him.

"Carl, get back in the RV," the man said.

"Dad, no. Look at her, she's no danger. We have to let her come with us. We have to!" Carl pleaded, glancing every so often at Ana's small bump.

A woman stepped out of the RV, her stomach much larger than Ana's.

"Rick, she's a child. Like Carl said, she's obviously no danger."

Rick looked at Ana once again, then at her stomach, before nodding slowly. He walked forward, helping Ana up and into the RV.

(-•~•-)

Months had gone by. Carl and Ana had grown close, even with their age difference. Every once in a while, Carl would wake up screaming. Ana would be there to sooth him, wiping the bad dreams and tears away. Carl found comfort in her when his mother, Lori, died giving birth to Judith. They lived in an abandoned prison with the rest of the survivors.

"Ana Banana, I'm bored," Carl groaned.

"Well, Carly...Warly. Go do something productive, like help me get off of the bed," Ana laughed, holding her hand out for Carl to take.

Carl pulled on her hand, helping her up. A sharp pain shot up her stomach, followed by the baby kicking hardly. Ana hissed in pain, biting her lower lip harshly. Carl's eyes widened.

"A-Ana? What's wrong?" he stuttered, worry practically seeping through his pores.

"I-I-I don't know," she hissed again when the baby kicked particularly hard. "I think the baby's coming."

"Hershel! Hurry up and get up here! Ana's in labor!" Carl yelled out the cell door.

Moments later, Hershel, the resident fixer upper, had Ana's legs propped up and mostly everything he needed to deliver Ana's baby. Carl gripped Ana's hand tightly, not daring to let his eyes wander past her waist. Sounds of pain echoed around the cell. Tears streamed down both of their faces. Ana's free hand clasped at the sheets underneath her.

"I can't do it, Carl, I can't!" she cried.

"No! I can't lose you, Ana. Not like I lost Mom! You can do this. You have to!" he yelled over her grunts and moans of pain.

"Ana, I need you to push now," Hershel called out.

Ana let out a scream through clenched teeth, pushing as hard as she could. Hershel instructed her to push and breathe. Carl's grip tightened rapidly. He held on too hard, and an audible crack could be heard. Ana's fingers tingled with pain. Carl's grip had broken ger fingers. She screamed louder than before, all while Carl looked on, confusion and worry swirling in his eyes. Hershel paused a moment before holding up a crying, wriggling baby boy. Salty tears continuously poured from Ana's eyes as she tried to shift her body up.

"L-let me see..," she whimpered.

"Carl, would you mind cutting the cord?" Hershel asked.

Carl timidly nodded and took the scissors from Hershel's hands. He cut the umbilical cord, then grabbed a blanket to wrap the shrieking baby in. A small half smile appeared on his face. Hershel quickly cleaned the baby off and congratulated her. He looked up at the panting Ana, walking forward with her son.

"What are you gonna name him?" he asked, handing the little boy over.

"His name is Jacob... Jacob Stiller," she breathed, peering at her son through the blankets.

"That's great!" Carl laughed. He pulled a blanket over her waist to cover her legs.

"H-He's gonna look up to you, you know?"

A cry emitted from Jacob's mouth, conveying his hunger. Carl turned around and quickly made a bottle full of formula. Ana placed the bottle in Jacob's mouth, silencing his cries. She held it up with the heel of her hand, seeing as two of her fingers were out of order.

"...Thank you, Carl."

"Eh? All I did was make a bottle, it was-"

"No, I meant thank you for everything," Ana said, looking up at the younger boy, a smile gracing her lips. "We're gonna be alright. We just gotta hold on to each other... We'll be alright."

To anybody else, it would've sounded like nonsensical mumbling. But to Carl and Ana, it was a promise to each other. They were going to hold on until the end. Rick appeared in the doorway.

"Ana? You alright?" he asked. A light laugh left Ana's lips.

"I'm as right as I can be after giving birth..." A yawn broke her sentence. "Though I'm a bit tired."

"I can watch over him, Ana," Carl stepped forward, taking the now sleeping baby from her arms.

Rick pushed a pillow under the teen's head, then shuffled out. Carl looked at the small child in his arms.

"We'll be alright."