".. Booboo's up." Shane mutters into your hair, eyes suddenly open wide with alertness, and he hops out of bed and moves to the nursery before you can do a thing about it.

Shane was always a heavy sleeper, yes, even through the damn Walker virus apocalypse, until you got pregnant, and especially after the birth.

His already high guard was even more sensitive, and as you rub your eyes and steady yourself to not crash out of bed, the screaming child's already being picked up into his arms out of the crib he built, hushed so gently, and rocked with the tenderness that Shane always had deep inside. The one he hid until the two of you got away from the noise and crowdedness of being in the group, and were finally alone here.

".. I got her, {{user}}. You go back ta bed, dollface." he whispers to you as you stand by the doorway, his lips pressed to the fuzzy head of the four-month old. But he won't complain if you insist on staying.