The last few days were mostly a blur, seeing as all of my adrenaline had drained away once we got back to the house, and my exhaustion finally caught up with me.

The only times I was really awake were the moments between bouts of sleep, and they only lasted about ten minutes or so. Finn took advantage of those times, making me eat a small amount of food and take another dose of the antibiotic to get rid of my infection.

Days have passed by the time I finally wake up, sun peeking in through the cracks of the blinds. It takes me a while to really convince myself to get out of bed, with the mattress being so soft and the cocoon of blankets wrapped around me so warm.

It's the cry of a baby that makes me finally untangle myself from the blankets and investigate what is going on.

With as much grace as someone who has spent the last few days sleeping has, I stand up and stumble out of the room.

The crying becomes louder the closer I get to the living room, drawing me in even nearer. Stepping into the room, my eyebrows scrunch up in confusion at the sight in front of me. Because seeing Finn changing a diaper on a baby is not what I expected.

But then small fragments of my memory start to come back. And a few, in particular, help me to piece together the confusing sight Finn and the baby make.

Because I decided to save a baby when I was half out of my mind with fever.

I probably would have saved it anyway, even if I was in my right mind, but I never thought that Finn would decide to shoulder the responsibility that I practically forced on him since I was too sick to care for the infant.

Finn kind of looks like he knows what he is doing, though. Unlike me, whose only experience with babies includes reading about them in a textbook and sometimes holding my nieces and nephews when my sister came to visit.

Putting the last strap on the diaper of the crying baby, Finn lets out a tired sigh. Knowing that the last few days must have been exhausting for him, between taking care of me and the baby, I decide it is probably time for me to shoulder some of the responsibility.

"Hey," I say, walking over to them. Well, more like limping. My knee may not be infected anymore, but it still hurts to put too much pressure on my leg.

Finn looks up at me, slightly startled, before his face relaxes into one of recognition.

"Hey." Finn picks up the baby, walking over towards me. His eyes run over my body, seeming to take in everything. "Looks like you are feeling better."

Nodding my head, I take the hand Finn offers me, allowing him to help me stumble the rest of the way to the couch. "Much better." Clearing my throat, I look up so that I can meet his eyes. "Thanks."

His brows scrunch together in confusion. "For what?"

One of my eyebrows raises as I scrutinize him, trying to figure out if he really doesn't know. When he just cocks his head to the side, my eyes widen in shock.

"For everything!" I say, my arms waving around somewhat dramatically, before dropping down to the couch. "You risked your life to get me the medication I needed, took care of me and the baby while I recovered from said infection, and basically kept me alive in that shit storm outside."

A faint smile twitches at the edges of Finn's lips as if he is trying to hold it back. "No problem," is all he says. "I wasn't just going to let you die." He walks over to me, joining me on the couch. The baby lets out a tiny cry, and Finn lays it on his legs. "And I know I was frustrated about you saving her at first, but I am happy you did. I don't think I could have lived with myself if she died when we could have saved her."

His words make me pause, my eyes shifting from him to the squirming infant. "Her?"

"Yeah, learned that about an hour after you passed out when we got back. Had to try and remember everything that I did with my baby cousins, and the rest I just had to learn for myself."

The baby lets out another small cry, this one slightly louder than the last one.

Finn leans over, placing her into my arms, not seeming to notice my wide eyes. "Here, you hold her while I get a bottle." And with that, he pushes himself up from the couch and leaves me alone with the baby.

My heart pounds wildly when Finn walks out of sight. Looking down, I meet the blue eyes of the small baby girl in my arms. Swallowing my nerves and climbing anxiety, I take in her features, trying to concentrate on something other than the way my heart feels like it is about to pound out of my chest.

Everything about her is so small, and I feel as if I am going to break her. She can't be any older than a week. Hell, she was probably born the day before we saved her.

My eyes sweep across her face, trying to take everything in. Honestly, she kind of looks like she is squished, not looking quite like a real human yet. Her eyes are big, though, as she tries to focus on me, and they are quite blue. Maybe they will change when she gets older, but the brightness of them tells me that they probably won't. There is a thin layer of hair on her head, light wisps that are just as small as she is. And her paleness rivals my own, her skin only a couple shades darker than the cream I use in my coffee every morning.

"Ah, coffee, how I could use a cup of you right now," I whisper, before forcing the memory of that wonderful beverage out of my head.

Finn comes into the room, just as she opens her mouth and lets out an unhappy cry, her hand waving in the air in excitement. Giving the bottle one last shake, Finn tests the temperature of the milk on his wrist before giving a satisfied hum and handing me the bottle.

The baby's cries immediately cut off once the nipple of the bottle is in her mouth, her eyes becoming half-lidded from the satisfaction of eating.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the baby swallowing and Harry's snores as he sleeps on his padded bed in the corner of the room. Some of the nerves from earlier start to fade away once the baby stops squirming and relaxes as she eats.

After a while, Finn clears his throat, drawing my attention away from the baby and over to him.

"I went through the bag that was in the car with her, and there wasn't too much in there. We probably only have enough formula and diapers to last another couple days, so we are going to have to go on a supply run soon."

Nodding my head, I try not to dwell on the fact that we are going to have to go outside again. It is so dangerous out there right now, and just the thought of having to see more people being attacked and killed causes my stomach to turn.

"We're also going to need more food and water for us." Finn sits back on the couch, his eyes closing as he relaxes. "And we should get everything before the weather starts to get worse when everyone will be out searching."

His words cause me to look outside, where it is raining. He is right about the weather getting cooler in the next couple weeks. We are in the middle of October, meaning that the warm days are becoming fewer and far between, while the cold days are becoming more numerous.

"How have things been downtown since I was last awake?" I ask, putting the bottle on the coffee table once the baby spits it out.

Finn doesn't respond for a while, making me think that he fell asleep in the silence we had been sitting in. Just when I am debating whether or not to wake him, he answers me.

"It has been getting crazier, more violent," he says, cracking open an eye to look at me. "It's good we are not down there, but it is only a matter of time before people leave the city and the monsters follow them."

It takes me a little bit to piece together what he is trying to say, but my eyes widen once I realize what he means. "You think they are going to come up here."

My words come out more a statement than a question, but Finn nods his head anyway. "No doubt. We should probably only stay here for another week or two, leave before people make their way up here."

"Where are we going to go?" I ask, a feeling of dread settling in my stomach.

"I have no idea right now. Maybe just drive more into the countryside and try to find someplace to stay low for the winter. As long as we are away from the city, then I don't care where we go."

"Okay," I mumble.

The baby lets out a small grunt, her head turning from side to side in discomfort. Finn sits up with a tired sigh, taking her from me and laying her on his shoulder, where a rag already lays.

"Her stomach gets upset after eating since she takes in some air when drinking." He pats her back, hard enough to work up the air but gentle enough so it doesn't hurt her. "Just have to get her to burp, and then she will be happy."

Looking at her, it finally dawns on me that she doesn't have a name. I have just been calling her 'the baby' in my head, and that just won't do. She is a real person, so she needs a real name.

"What are we going to call her, by the way?" I ask, watching as the baby lets out a surprisingly large burp, some sick spilling out of her mouth and onto the rag. Finn pulls her away from his shoulder laying her on his legs while he wipes off her mouth. "Was there anything in the bag that gave any indication about what her parents named her?"

Finn shakes his head. "No, there wasn't anything in there besides a can of formula, some diapers, and a couple changes of clothes." He wraps the squirming baby in a bright purple blanket before settling her in his arms. "I haven't really thought too much about naming another person. I thought I would have a while before having to do that." He looks over at me. "Do you have any ideas?"

Shaking my head, I try to think of a name but come up with nothing. "How about we each come up with two and then pick the ones we like the most out of those?"

Finn gives a slow nod of his head, pursing his lips and scrunching his eyebrows as he thinks.

"Okay, my two are Emma and Viola," I say, breaking the silence we had been sitting in. Honestly, I have no idea what to name her, so I just chose two of my favorite characters from some of my most read books.

Finn raises an eyebrow at me but doesn't say anything further on the name choices. "Alright, my choices are Marie and Harlow."

We both stare at each other for a moment before looking back down at the baby, who is now staring up at Finn with a disgruntled look on her face, as if not liking that we are talking about her.

"She looks as stubborn as Viola from Twelfth Night," Finn mumbles.

"But she could also be a Marie," I say, my brows scrunching in frustration. "How do people name someone without even knowing what they are going to be like?"

Finn just shrugs his shoulders. "They usually have months to think about it, and then just choose the one they like best once the baby is born."

With a frustrated sigh, I flop back on the couch. "How about we just use both, Viola Marie, no last name."

Finn finally looks up at me. "Alright," he says, slouching down on the couch beside me so that our shoulders touch. "Viola Marie it is."

*****

The picture at the top is of Viola.

Thank you, everyone, who is reading this story, it is definitely one of my favorites to write! So, for the month of November, this story will be getting more frequent updates: every three days instead of just once a week. This is in honor of NaNoWriMo, and good luck to anyone else participating this year!

Please don't forget to vote, comment, and share.