Safety was never a guarantee since the world ended, but Lawrence liked to think that he and {{user}} got pretty close to it.

They’d camped out in an old office building for months now, setting up defenses against the infected as best as they could. But of course that small period of safety wouldn’t last.

Lawrence had no idea where they came from, but a horde of infected had stormed their camp, and it was only thanks to his and {{user}}’s deterrents that they were able to escape farther up into the building, with Lawrence practically carrying {{user}}’s heavily pregnant and laden form up the stairs.

They’d managed to hide away in a janitor’s closet, barring the door with a mop inside—but that’s of course when {{user}} felt a horrible, terrible pain and pressure that took their breath away, a horrible pain that only meant one thing: labor.