Torn Apart (A Daryl Dixon/ The Walking Dead Fanfiction)

Prolouge

Cat's P.O.V
The blazing sun is scorching my skin as I run. The moans of the undead filling the air, urging me to run faster. I cradle my stomach and push forward through the pain.

"Come on Cat!"

He is just further than me. His eyes are large with alarm at the sight before him, the sight of his pregnant wife running for her life from the cannabilistic undead. This is something that he had been worrying about since the outbreak, worrying for our safety. I push further and catch up to him.

"Come on, we'll go in here."

I turn to the side to see and abandoned office building. Another pain flies through my abdomen and I clutch my stomach. I nod and we head into the building, he takes down one of the monsters. We run towards the stairwell to the side and up the stairs, taking down the creatures as we go. Three floors up, all we see are the empty workstations, clear of the monsters. I look to my left and see and empty office.

"James, in there." I cry as another pain comes on.

He walks over to me and places a hand around my legs and shoulders, carrying me into the room and placing me into the plush office chair. He closes the door and grabs a chair, stuffing it under the handle. He draws the blinds and uses his gun to peer through them, checking for any signs of the undead. I take deep breathes and rub my belly, trying to ease the pain. After a moment he walks over to me and pulls the bag off my back and places it to the side along with his own.

"How you doin' baby?" He asks rubbing my back in comfort as I cry in response.

"Picked a good time to go into labor didn't I?" I laugh bitterly through the pain.

"Yeah." He laughs, soothing me.

I clutch his hand as another pain comes. I squeeze it, trying to hold in the screams. When the pain is over I take deep breathes. I look over at my husband and see the worry plastered on his face.

"Hey, it's gonna be alright." I say rubbing his arm.

"Look at you comforting me when your the one that is about to give birth." He laughs.

"I'm your wife. For better, for worse." I smile.

"'Till death parts us." He smiles.

Leaning forward, I kiss him, holding his face in my hands. He wraps his arm around my waist and holds me tightly, reassuring me. I lean my forehead against his and close my eyes, our most peaceful moment since the outbreak. Another pain shoots through me and I grunt through the pain, ruining our moment.

"I need to get on the ground." I pant, clutching the arm of the chair in pain.

He slowly pulls me off the chair and gently places me on the floor. He pulls some clothes out of the bag and places it under my head for support. He also lays out a towel under my lower half.

"I need you to see if the baby's head is crowning." I cry as another pain washes over me.

He pulls my pants down and examines me for a moment.

"Yes I can see it." He looks up worried.

"I need to push." I groan. I push with all my might, trying to suppress my cries. I stop and breath.

"Again baby."

I push again. The pain is unbearable and a cry escapes my lips.

"I know it hurts baby but we need to be quiet."

I grab a shirt from under my head and bite down on it as I push harder. I take deep breaths and feel tears falling from my eyes. I look at him and see his face, filled with worry and concern. A bang sounds against the door. He walks over and looks through the blinds.

"Fuck!" He curses.

"What is it?" I ask, panicked.

"Nothing baby, just keep pushing." He says, walking over to me, resuming his place between my legs.

"One more push." He says, tears rolling down his face.

I bite down on the shirt again and push one last time. When it's over, I lean back and breathe heavily, closing my eyes from exhaustion. It's silent for a long time. I open my eyes and lean up to look at him.

"Baby?" I ask.

He turns his head, tears are streaming down his face. His body is shaking uncontrollably as he stares at me. I look into his arms at our child. She isn't moving, no crying, no breathing. I shake my head.

"No..." I cry.

Slowly he nods his head and is confirming my worst fears.

"No!" I cry, tears bursting over.

I sob uncontrollably, my arms reaching out to hold my precious girl. He places the unmoving body in my arms, holding me in the process. Her face is petite and peaceful, almost as if she is asleep. Her small nose, mouth and ears are all breathtaking, causing my heart to ache for her movement. A small tuft of black hair is in disarray, plastered to her forehead. Her hands and feet are small compared to mine. Her skin is soft yet cold against my own. My tears fall on her face and I wipe them away gently, as if to not disturb her. I look at James and see my face reflected in his. The pain, loss and grief of the situation. After a moment, I speak.

"What do you want to call her?" I ask, running my fingers through her hair.

"Baby, we don't have to..." He whispers.

"Yes we do. She deserves a name." I sob, staring at her.

"Annie." He whispered, naming his mother. I nod in agreement.

"I love you Annie." I whisper kissing her head.

"I love you baby girl. You will always be in my heart." He says, his fingers brushing her cheeks. He kisses her lightly on the head.

The banging on the door begins again, yet I felt numb to the danger outside. Nothing in this world could hurt me like I was hurt now. I would gladly take that pain over this any day. James stands up with a fierce determination. Grabbing his weapons and heading for the door, he turns to look at us one last time before heading out to face the danger.