A Few Months Later

Carl wakes up one night to a gentle shoving on his shoulders. He groans weakly, flopping over onto his side, still half asleep even as the prodding refuses to relent.

"Judith, go to sleep..." he mumbles sleepily, reaching out to find his pillow. When he does, he promptly buries his head underneath it, trying to ignore the tiny hands beating insistently at his shoulders. "What are you even doing up..?"

"There's something wrong with Mommy," Judith's quiet voice states worriedly. Carl's eye snaps open almost instantly, lifting the pillow from his head to see Judith standing at the side of his bed, her chubby little fingers still clenching Carl's nightshirt as her lower lip wobbles.

Carl throws the blanket off of him as soon as the words register in his mind, worry and fear flooding through him. Judith steps back, her baby blue eyes wide with confusion and concern as Carl reaches for the knife on his bedside table. He pulls on his boots, once again thankful that he keeps them so close to his bed.

He looks toward Judith, still trembling in the polar bear pajamas Daryl had found for her before he disappeared into wherever. Carl knows he should have cared more about where Daryl went, but after learning of he and Maggie's part in the bridge explosion - after learning he was the reason his dad had been there at the bridge in the first place - Carl found he couldn't care less about where Daryl is, the man can take care of himself too. Right now, the only thing Carl should worry about is Michonne, Judith, and his unborn little brother or sister.

A horrifying thought fills his mind: "Is Mommy having the baby?" He asks Judith quietly, trying to keep his voice from quivering as he climbs up to his feet. The poor girl looks terrified, and Carl gently pulls her into his arms, resting her on his hip as he ventures out into the hall, keeping a tight grip on his knife just in case.

Judith's arms wind around Carl's neck, and she buries her face into his shirt. "I dunno," the little girl says, her voice sounding muffled from Carl's shirt, "she started making weird noises earlier, like groans, and I couldn't get the door open. She sounds like she's hurt..."

Groans...?

Like groans of pain or ones of... a walker?

Carl tries to stop the fear that bubbles up inside of him at the mere thought of something like that happening. Instead, he makes his way down the hall to Michonne's room, his fingers curling around the doorknob. He tries turning it, but despite his best attempts. Carl resists the urge to swear, suddenly remembering that Michonne had a habit of sleeping with her bedroom door locked. She had been doing that since Jocelyn - since that bitch came and kidnapped Alexandria's kids.

He raps his knuckles over the door. "Michonne?"

The only response is a faint whimper.

Shit.

Carl turns, rushing down the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Carl then places Judith down on the kitchen counter, opening up one of the cabinets and pulling out a spare set of keys that jingle and rattles as he picks them up. Carl remembers Michonne putting those in there just in case. Carl is just glad she hadn't moved them since then, then he might have had to break the door with an axe or something.

He closes the cabinet door, pulling Judith back into his arms and rushing back up the stairs. The moment he reaches Michonne's door, he starts going through the keys, trying to figure out which one belongs to this door. He has to put Judith down, but even as he does this, she doesn't stray too far, instead clinging to his pajama pants in a surprisingly firm grip for someone her age.

Finally, finally - Carl finds the correct key, practically shoving it into the lock. He turns it, sighing in relief as the lock clicks. He reaches back for the doorknob, turning it and opening it slowly. Carl steps inside, his gaze scouring the room and landing on the slumped over figure by the giant bed in the middle of the room: Michonne. She looks up as he and Judith enter, her face scrunched up in what is obviously pain. She tries getting up, but she falls back down with a pained groan.

Carl rushes forward, taking in the sweat that trickles down the side of her face and the way her arm curls around her swollen stomach. "Here, lean on me," he says softly, grabbing one of her arms and looping it over his shoulders. She nods, in too much pain to really speak, and starts getting up once more. She almost falls over again, but Carl holds her up, taking a slow step forward.

"Come on, we need to get you to Siddiq," he says to her, "do you think you can walk that far?" Michonne opens her mouth, probably to say something, but another spasm of pain ripples through her, and she simply shakes her head. Carl nods, not surprised. He helps her lie down on the large bed, "just stay here, and I'll go get Siddiq, and you'll be just fine."

Michonne nods again, and Carl turns to Judith. "Judy, I need you to run downstairs and get a towel from the kitchen. Once you do, get it wet and use it to cool Mommy down. Can you do that?" The little girl gives a quick nod, darting out the door and down the stairs within seconds. He gives Michonne a quick but strained smile before slipping out the door himself.

He leaves the house, wincing as a blast of cold air sweeps over him. Carl probably should have grabbed a coat or something, but he can hardly care less right now. He simply rushes out into the street, heading in the direction of the infirmary. He breaks into a sprint as he nears, practically banging his fists into the door in his hurry to talk to Siddiq.

"Carl?" A tired-looking Siddiq answers the door a minute or two later, obviously having been woken up by Carl's loud knocking. "What-" he flinches back suddenly, a look of understanding crossing over his face when he takes in the panicked look on Carl's face. "She's having the baby."

Carl nods. Siddiq rushes back inside the infirmary, appearing in the door a couple moments later with a bag slung over his arm. "Bring me to her." He orders, his face filled with determination.

So Carl does.


Carl remembers Hershel Rhee's birth quite well. Maggie had been swearing, yelling, crying, and screaming during the entire thing, which had lasted literal hours, and had actually ended up breaking Carl's hand when he offered it to her to squeeze. He had thought that had been around the worst a birth could be that didn't involve death, but clearly, he had been wrong.

Michonne is a hundred times worse than Maggie had ever been.

"I swear to god. I AM GOING TO MURDER SOMEONE!" Michonne yells out, hissing angrily as another wave of agony overcomes her, having found her voice at some point a couple of hours after the labor first started.

Carl winces as Michonne's grip on his hand tightens. This really makes him glad he never has to go through this.

"I know, Michonne," Siddiq says calmly, wiping a wet towel over her sweaty forehead. "You've been telling me this for the past two hours already."

"And guess what? IT'S TRUE!"

Carl gives Michonne a weak smile when she catches his eye. "Hey, think about it this way. Once this is done, you and I can go out and kill a couple of walkers." He knows that Michonne will probably be too tired to really do much after the baby is born, but the offer does calm her down slightly.

"We're almost done," Siddiq whispers to Carl, "should be sometime soon."

Carl nods, relief swarming him. He doesn't like seeing Michonne in pain. That and he really would like his hand to remain unbroken. "Is she...?"

"Nothing all that horrible so far. Everything seems to be progressing pretty normally-"

Siddiq is cut off as Michonne lets out another string of curses. "Oh, FUCK! Oh god, ow, ow, ow, ow! Fuck!"

"Shit, Laura! Bring more towels, please!" Siddiq calls out from Michonne's side. "Aaron, bring me another bucket of water!"

No one really addressed Carl: he just sat there at Michonne's side in the midst of all the chaos happening around him. While he knows that he probably wouldn't be able to get out of the death grip his step-mother had on his hand, he would have liked to do something more than comfort her. Time seems to slow down as the seconds pass by: Michonne opens up her mouth to let out another wail, but Carl is unable to hear anything other than the ringing in his ears. Siddiq puts a wet towel onto Michonne's head, saying something to her, but his words are muted. Carl can only stare as Michonne lets out another scream, and he yearns to do something to help her other than just sitting here and offering a hand for her to break. He wishes that Michonne doesn't have to be in so much pain. He wishes that-

He wishes that his dad were here.

His dad would know what to do.

"Come on, Michonne! One more push now!"

Michonne has her nose scrunched up as a low groan escapes her lips before her body suddenly recoils back at the release of a wailing baby into Siddiq's arms. Carl looks up, watching as Siddiq immediately goes to work at cleaning the infant. Michonne's grip on Carl's hand loosens, and he gets up slowly, approaching Siddiq and peering at the screaming baby in his arms.

"It's a boy," Siddiq tells them, a grin splitting across the man's face.

A brother.

Carl has a brother.

Behind him, Carl hears Michonne let out a soft sob, not of exhaustion or grief but of joy. Carefully, Siddiq swaddles the baby up in some blankets before gently placing him into Carl's outstretched arms. Instinctively, Carl brings the baby to his chest, staring down at his little brother with wide eyes. He reaches out his free hand, trembling fingers brushing across the baby's silky soft cheek. The baby turns his head, his crying simmering down as he blinks open his eyes to focus up on his older brother. Carl feels a smile splitting across his lips, along with a wave of love that washes over him with no warning. Tears start welling up in his eye, but Carl doesn't bother stopping them.

"Hey there, little guy," Carl says softly, leaning down to kiss the forehead of the tiny babe. "I'm your big brother."

He looks over at Michonne, slowly making his way back to her bedside and sitting down on the rickety chair stationed beside her bed so she can hold her newborn son. Eagerly, his step-mother sits up slightly, leaning on the various pillows piled up behind her and holding out her arms. With only a little bit of reluctance, Carl passes the squirming baby into her waiting arms, a part of Carl still wanting to hold him.

Michonne stares at the baby for a long moment before promptly bursting into tears.

Knowing from Maggie's own labor that this is normal, Carl leans back a bit, turning when he hears the door creaking open. Little Judith Grimes peaks into the room, eyes wide with worry, and Carl motions for her to come to him. He pulls the five-year-old girl into his lap so she can see her new baby brother, who Michonne had started covering with kisses, much to Carl's amusement. In the corner of his vision, he sees Siddiq leaving the room, leaving the new family of four to their own devices.

Carl watches as she cradles the baby close, and while he squirms a bit, the baby settles down after a moment, nuzzling his tiny face into Michonne's chest. Michonne smiles through the tears streaming down her face, and Carl doesn't need anyone to tell him to know that he is doing the same.

"He's tiny," Judith says, her voice filled with awe, "was I that tiny?"

"Mhm, you were just as tiny as he was at one point - and just as loud," Carl tells her, his smile turning wider when he hears Michonne let out a soft laugh. "He's beautiful, Mom."

Carl realizes his mistake mere seconds after he said it, but before he can open his mouth to apologize, he realizes that he doesn't even regret it. Michonne might not be his real mother, but she's done a damn good job at being one to him and Judith. So instead, he offers Michonne a sheepish smile, and Michonne beams over at him, looking both overjoyed and a tad shocked.

"He really is," Michonne says after a moment, her voice hoarse from her earlier screaming.

"What are you going to name him?" Michonne had told him a couple months ago that she had a name picked out for the baby, but whenever anyone asked she refused to say. She had offered to tell Carl the name, but he had wanted to wait until the baby was born to hear it.

Michonne presses a kiss to the baby's forehead. "Rick," she says while pulling away, "I'm going to name him Rick."

Carl inhales sharply, trying desperately to blink away the tears in his eye. "That's... that's a good name."

Little RJ Grimes stretches out his tiny arms, gurgling, and Carl finds himself reaching out once more. Michonne lets Carl take RJ into his arms again, and, while being careful of Judith, who remained sitting in his lap, Carl holds RJ close to his chest.

Judith peers at the baby in Carl's arm, "can I hold him?"

Carl looks up, catching Michonne's eye. She gives him a small nod. Carl glances back down at Judith, "yes, but you have to be very, very careful. Babies are fragile."

Judith holds out her arms, and gently Carl sets RJ down into them, adjusting Judith's grip and making it so that she holds him correctly. A grin spreads across Judith's face, and she sticks her tongue out at RJ. "When will he be big enough to play with me?"

"A couple of months, maybe," Michonne says, "trust me, he'll be running around before you know it."

Carl laughs, pressing a kiss to Judith's hair and grinning over at Michonne. He takes RJ back into his arms again, pressing a kiss to the baby's cheek before passing him back over to Michonne. As Carl watches his step-mother cradle RJ close, a feeling of warmth blooms in his chest, and deep down, he knows that they are going to be okay.

All of them will, and little RJ Grimes will only help them get there.