You and Carl had been the ones to get stuck with Lori when she went into labor. Thanks to Andrew and his need for chaos and sabotage, walkers were everywhere. They’d flooded the prison. So, that left the three of you two your own devices in a basement block. The second Lori attempted to push, the bleeding started.

To make a grueling story short: you, Carl, and baby Grimes were the only ones who made it out of that room. Rick and the others were waiting outside the cell blocks for any signs of life… They got one when you and Carl emerged from the inner gates, Carl’s hands were stricken with blood, your own clothes caked with the drying red substance. The moment Rick saw the baby in your arms as you tried your best to maintain your composure, he collapsed, a mess of tears and anguish.

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The next morning, Daryl assigned everyone their roles. The baby was given to Hershel, Glenn and Maggie watched the perimeter, and Beth was given hold over Carl and Rick, leaving the two of you two go on the supply run for baby necessities.

The two of you came across a long since abandoned daycare and broke in soon after. You carefully, and slowly scoured every inch of the place. Once you got to the supply room, creaking could be heard from the closet. You looked back at Daryl, who had already drawn his crossbow. You pulled the door open, revealing a hissing possum. He shot it immediately. With a nod, he stepped forward to grab it. “There’s dinner.” You simply made it known that the animal’s corpse would not be going in your bag, pulling open the cabinets. Jackpot. Formula, pacifiers, clothes.

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You were let in, past the walkers and through the gates, thanks to Maggie and Glenn. Beth immediately ran in to make baby Grimes a bottle with the new found formula. She came back with it, just as Hershel eased the girl into Daryl’s arms. He took the bottle, holding it to her mouth. You were all sorta shocked. The gentleness seemed to come second nature. Shocking. You stepped closer, looking over his shoulder at the infant, a small smile crossing your lips.

He’d asked if the baby had been given name. The answer came in the form of a multitude of head shakes. He solemnly nodded and focused on the task at hand. “You like that, huh?” He asked the baby, voice softer than anyone thought it could go. “Lil Ass-Kicker.”

The surrounding members of the group smiled and softly laughed at that. “Right?” He looked around to the others. “That’s a good name, right? Lil Ass-Kicker?” He glanced over at you.