After The Fall

Speak Softly, For We're Still Alive

Hello, lovely readers. This chapter is special to me, mostly because it made me a little emotional while writing it. As well as the fact that this chapter was originally supposed to be one chapter, but I decided it would be better to split it into three because of the length it came to. So, enjoy three new chapters! I worked for several hours to get these three out, so I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave feedback, I'd love to see what you guys thought.

...

Water, towels! Mark bursts from the bedroom door, looking around wildly, You can do this, just think! Nate walks over to Mark, looking concerned, "Need some help?"

"Why did you think I knew what to do?" Mark asks, heading for the kitchen.

Nate follows, "What do you mean? I just asked for your help, I never said you knew how to deliver a baby."

He crosses his arms, watching Mark with slightly narrowed eyes, "Hell, I don't know how to deliver a baby, either, but you don't see me having a breakdown."

Mark glares at him lightly, "Not the time. We need to figure out what to do, I know she's doing everything she can, but if she starts screaming the Infected will hear it and then they'll come here."

"I know that," Nate groans softly, "That's why I tied the pillow case around her mouth. She knows how important it is to be silent now. We all do, okay? If you don't want to help me help her, then stay out in the living room for all I care."

He walks over to the bathroom, his movements are still pained and slow, but he doesn't complain. Mark stands in the kitchen, looking after him. He frowns, I never said I wouldn't help. He groans softly, covering his face with his hands, I really wish Ken was here. He'd at least know what to do and I wouldn't be making an ass of myself.. He drops his hands to his sides and takes a breath. Come on, Mark. We can all do this together. This isn't something to start a fight over. He turns and looks around. Grabbing a bucket by the counter and making sure it's clean first, he then fills it with some of their stocked water and carries it back to the bedroom. Nate follows soon after with a few towels and spare sheets. He sets them on the dresser and turns to the others.

He smiles softly at Stephanie, "You'll be alright."

...

"Something's wrong!" Mark grunts at the foot of Stephanie's bed.

"Just get the baby out!" Nate grits his teeth as Mary-Jane lets out a sharp yelp as Stephanie coughs up blood on the little girl's face. Nate pulls the child back by the arm, "Hold your breath, MJ."

He glances at Mark as he pulls her past, "You deal with this, I'll deal with MJ."

Leaving the room, he leads her as quickly as he can to the bathroom. He uses a water bottle that's been left in there for hygiene purposes to wet a little cloth before turning back to Mary-Jane. He kneels, wincing lightly, wiping the blood from her face as quickly as he can. Mary-Jane's standing before him, shivering, her eyes shut tight. He gets the blood off and lets out a breath, "You can open your eyes now."

She does so slowly a moment later. She blinks a few times, exhaling the breath he had told her to hold. She looks a little worried, "I-is Stephanie going to be okay? Is her baby okay?"

"I'm sure she's going to be fine.." Nate lies, because he has no idea what even happened. She was doing fine, and then she suddenly wasn't. It made no sense to him, not entirely. He smiles a little, "And I'm sure her baby's going to be just fine, too."

Mary-Jane smiles back softly, "That's good. I'm just.. Gonna stay in my room if that's okay."

Nate stands, letting out a soft grunt from the pain the movement causes, "Yeah, that's fine. Mark and I will be with Stephanie if you need anything."

"Okay." she walks out.

Nate looks down at the bloody cloth in his hand, worry etching itself into his features now that he's stopped lying. Stephanie was fine, she was healthy. So what's happening to her now? His eyes narrow as he glares at the blood. Could she have gotten sick somehow? He tosses the cloth to the floor before leaving the room. The only other person who got sick for no reason was Amy, and he doesn't want to think about that. He heads back towards Stephanie's room, but stops short as he hears a soft voice somewhere nearby outside.

"I'm finding a way in, I'll tell you more soon."

He stiffens before staring back at the front door. In his current condition, he can't fight off an intruder, but the intruder doesn't have to know that. He looks around, he knows Ken had a gun around here somewhere. He just hopes he hadn't taken it with him. He makes his way into Mary-Jane's room as quickly as he can, since she and Ken shared a room before he left. Mary-Jane looks up at him from where she's sitting on the big bed, "Nate?"

He ignores her, going over to the closet. He opens it, looking around as thoroughly and quickly as he can. Mary-Jane frowns, "What are you looking for? Maybe I can help."

She stifles a little cough with her hand, her eyes look tired and her skin is more pale than it was just minutes ago. Nate doesn't notice this as of yet, not registering her cough as he focuses on the task at hand. He reaches up to the top shelf, grimacing as this brings more pain to his still healing wound. He's able to grasp something after a moment and pulls it down. He grins, he found the pistol. He looks back at Mary-Jane, expression serious, "Stay in here, no matter what. If you hear gunshots, hide, okay?"

Mary-Jane looks scared, but she nods. He leaves the room again, making his way back to the front door. He stands at the front door and checks the gun to make sure it's loaded. It is. He looks back to the door, raising the gun, eyes narrow. He waits with baited breath as he hears the slow footsteps nearing the entrance to their home. The doorknob turns, but remains locked. Nate waits still, listening to the clinking of whatever the intruder's using to try and pick their lock.

He cocks the gun, taking in a deep breath. Mary-Jane leaves her room, walking slowly into the living room. She sees Nate standing at the door with the gun aimed. She looks confused and worried. She doesn't understand why he's doing what he is. She doesn't understand the things grown-ups have to do now, not entirely. She doesn't understand the look in their eyes sometimes, because she's just a child and she still clings to the things she knew as truth before the disease spread.

That's why, when the door opens and she sees someone she recognizes, her eyes widen and she rushes over. The woman opens the door and stops, the barrel of the pistol in Nate's hands pointed at her head. Nate's eyes are narrowed and dark, "Leave. Or you're getting a bullet between the eyes."

"Aunt Lulu?" Mary-Jane gasps, standing just to the side of Nate, but still a little behind him.