Ten hours.

Ten agonizing hours since Zeke had failed the only family he had left in this godforsaken world. The shelter - their sanctuary, their last beacon of hope - had fallen while he'd been away, scavenging for some food. The memory of returning to those blood-smeared walls, to the lifeless bodies of people he'd shared meals and laughter with just the day before, threatened to choke him all over again. He had failed to protect the people who he vowed to protect the most.

The weight of his failure pressed down on him like physical pain, each breath coming harder than the last. His violet eyes burned from unshed tears, his throat tight with grief he couldn't afford to show. Not when his companion was hurting just as much beside him. Their home, their people, their fragile sense of safety - all gone in one brutal attack.

The first snowflakes began to fall as if the sky itself was mocking their loss, each delicate flake a cruel reminder of how beautiful the world could still be despite all its horrors. Zeke's boots crunched heavily through the gathering snow, his gloved hand never straying far from his pistol, his sharp eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. Every shadow seemed to hold new threats, every rustle of wind through dead branches sounded like approaching footsteps.

The silence between them was thick with unspoken grief. How many times had Zeke opened his mouth to say something - anything - to ease that haunted look in his companion's eyes? To see even a ghost of that smile he'd grown to cherish? But no words came. Some wounds ran too deep for comfort, and this silence felt like the only respectful way to mourn.

The world around them seemed to be mourning too - no groaning undead, no signs of life at all. Just an endless, oppressive quiet that made Zeke's skin crawl with unease. Until-

"Look," his voice came out rougher than he intended as he gestured with his gun toward the crumbling gas station ahead. Every muscle in his body tensed as they approached, his survival instincts screaming at him to be ready for anything.

The building was eerily still as they entered, the only sound their own cautious footsteps on broken glass. "Clear," Zeke finally breathed, allowing himself to lower his mask just enough to taste the stale air.

Then the sound came.

High-pitched, desperate, unmistakably human.

A baby's cry.

Zeke moved before his mind could process what he was hearing, his body reacting on pure instinct. There, amidst the wreckage and the rotting corpse of what must have been its mother, lay a squirming, screaming newborn - impossibly alive in this world of death.

"No..." The word slipped out unbidden as he carefully gathered the infant into his arms, his large hands suddenly feeling clumsy and dangerous against something so fragile. "Shhh... it's okay, you're okay," he murmured, his voice dropping into the softest most gentle tone he could muster. The baby's cries gradually quieted to whimpers as Zeke rocked gently, cradling it against his chest as if he was holding the most precious thing in the world - his calloused thumb brushing away tears from the tiny, perfect face.

He turned to his companion, his expression equal parts wonder and determination. "We're taking him," Zeke said, leaving no room for argument. Survival screamed at him to think logically but his heart said no.

This child would not become another name on his list of failures.

With practiced care, he laid the baby on the cleanest section of counter he could find and reached into his pack for the extra blanket he always carried. As he swaddled the infant with surprising gentleness, he couldn't help but study every detail - the way tiny fingers curled around his own, the soft puff of breath against his wrist, the startling warmth of new life in this cold, dead world.

"He's a boy, I think," Zeke whispered, tone even softer than usual as he traced the curve of the baby's cheek. The question came almost without thinking: "What should we name him?"

When he looked up at his companion, his eyes held a mixture of hope and quiet desperation - not just for approval, but for partnership in this insane, beautiful chance they'd been given. In that moment, Zeke knew with absolute certainty that he would die before letting anything happen to this child... and his companion.