Hello, everyone.

Yes, yes, I know I have other stories I need to get around to finishing, but the plot bunnies just keep sneaking up on me and making a home in my brain. I apologize for this.

I just had this idea of little moments of a baby Dixon, just drabbles and such. I thought it might be cute to have little moments between Daryl, Carol, Merle, or any other character really and the Dixon child. There were ideas in my head that wouldn't leave. Small Mister Dixon was pestering to be let out onto the internet.

This first moment was greatly inspired by the album artwork for So Flows the Current by Patrick O'Hearn, where, oddly enough, one of the tracks on said album also inspired the title for this collection of drabbles.

I hope you enjoy! :)

-Gabby

1. Innocence.

The hot, summer sun was beating down onto the leaves that were hanging over the cool, rushing creek. A bird swooped down low, just skimming the shallow water with the tips of its claws. More of the same creatures fluttered above and through the trees as their coos and caws echoed about the forest. When a breeze passed, the bright green foliage rustled, a welcomed, slight chill accompanying the sound. It was moments like this that could almost fool a person into thinking the world was back to normal.

A little boy, no more than eight years-old, stood at the edge of the water with his boots in his hand, bare toes poking around at the pebbles in the soft dirt. His shaggy, sandy blonde hair hung in his bright blue eyes and curled around his hairline from the bullets he had been sweating all day. In the waistband of his pants, there was a gun, his daddy not having his child go around unprotected. Next to him sat a man with his own larger pair of boots in his hand and a crossbow across his back. The man's feet were completely submerged in the water as he picked up small stones and skipped them across the water to the other side of the creek. "Daddy, why the hell's Judy gotta act like she's got a big ol' stick up her ass?"

"You best watch your mouth, boy," the man replied, not removing his eyes from the water. Another stone was released from between his fingers. "Wouldn't wanna kiss Mama with a mouth like that would ya'?" The boy grumbled in response before plopping his scrawny frame onto the ground. His skinny, little arms crossed his chest while a scowl graced his thin face. "Got somethin' t'say, short stack?" A smirk played across the lips of the man as he gave his son a sideways glance, but when the child chose not to respond, he brought his gaze back to the water to skip another stone. "Well, spit it out then. Ain't got all day."

The boy frowned, eyes narrowing at his father. "You kiss Mama, and you don't talk no better'n that. S'not fair that everyone gets to talk how they wanna, but I don't." He hugged his knees to his chest. The kid had no chance in hell of being a big, burly man, what with his his mother being the skinny thing she was and his father being not much better. Looking at the ankles peeking out from the rolled up ends of his baggy jeans, the man felt a pang in his heart as the thought of a little girl, who he tried so hard to save, stumbling atop skinny ankles, much like his son's, out of a barn as one of those monsters. "It ain't fair. I'm almost a growed up! I should be allowed to talk like you and Uncle Merle and Uncle Rick and Carl. Mama'd still love me if I did. She still loves you, right? She ain't gonna leave us if I say stuff like 'shit' an' 'ass' sometimes. Ain't hurtin' nothin' when I say that stuff. Don't mean to anyway."

The man's brother had said to him, waving his good hand around in his own animated fashion, that the kid was following in his father's footsteps: trying to be a little man in a world that was way tougher than he was. "You can talk like that when you've killed as many of them geeks as Merle, me, and Rick have, deal?" With a grimace still painted on his face, the boy lifted his chin to rest in the valley his knees created when placed together. The father placed a hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. Any thought Merle had given him about the boy being just like him started to slip away.

Despite the world having gone to shit years ago, the kid was in a better place than he ever had been. His mama was a good, kind woman, who showed how much she loved her child every chance she got. Having had many a worry about being a father, the man had stepped up and was doing his best to not become like his own father. "Listen, Cy," he started, the boy's face perking at the sound of his name being uttered. "I know it's gonna get rough sometimes. It ain't exactly the best time ta' be a kid right now, but that doesn't mean ya' gotta act all big and tough all the time, y'know?" Big blue eyes stared up into a pair of slightly grayer eyes. His speech was not going as he planned, and he was inwardly panicking. "I guess I'm sayin' it's important t'let yourself be a kid instead of forcing yourself t'be a grown up." The boy's eyes narrowed as if he were trying to comprehend the words being spoken to him. "Oh, and don't take any of Asskicker's shit. Just 'cause she's bigger than you now don't mean she needs t'act all high an' mighty."

A laugh forced its way out of the boy's mouth even though he tried his very best to stop it. Almost as soon as he did, his serious expression came back. "That's another thing I gotta question 'bout," he said while stretching his legs back out. "I know me and Judy both got stupid names. Judith ain't too good and neither is Cyrus, so why does she get the good nickname? Baby Dixon is dumb. Lil' Asskicker is way better. I think that should be mine instead 'cause I'm way better at kickin'… butt. I don't get why she gets a good one. Judy's a wimp."

Images of the day Judith Grimes was brought into the world played through his mind. She really was an ass kicking baby, having such a gruesome start. It was a miracle she made it a week, let alone any number of years. "I'll tell ya' why someday, but I don't think now's the time." In all truth, he hoped the boy would drop the subject and never bring it up again. The day was one that seemed to drill holes in his heart. It was the day they thought they lost three of their people; the day he gave up and didn't even look for the woman he had grown to care for so much. "'Sides, ya've got a fine name. It was your mama's daddy's name, and you should be thankful anyway. Mama wanted to name ya' Theodore. Imagine everyone 'round here callin' ya' Teddy. Ya' also didn't get my daddy's name. Eugene was a shit name for a piss poor dad."

"Uncle Merle must be like him a little then," the boy concluded, standing to put his boots back on. Shock was written all across the father's face as he stood with his son to lace up his own boots. "Looks like a Eugene, and he can be pretty nasty sometimes." The boy picked up a handful of wet pebbles and shoved them into his pocket before he smiled up at his dumbfounded father. "'Sides, you said he was a bad daddy, so you sure ain't like him then."

All hesitance he once felt towards being a father had melted away once he held his son for the first time. It wasn't until that moment that it all felt so real, but ever since that day, he had fought every memory of his own horrible childhood, what that little girl's childhood must have been like. The scars were there as an ever-present reminder of his daddy, yet he seemed to be doing better than he had expected, than anyone had expected. "C'mon," he said in a gravely tone, lifting up the string of woodland creatures that had been lying out next to him. "Yer Mama's gonna be pissed somethin' fierce if we don't get back soon. Gotta get her this meat, too. Woman makes damn near the best squirrel stew I ever did taste."

The little boy's eyes lit up at the mention of his mother's cooking, sending him off a step ahead of his father. A weight felt as though it was lifted off of the man's shoulders when the boy returned to a more carefree, childlike demeanor. "Daddy, d'you Mama'll make stew tonight? I hope she does. We still got plenty'a veggies, and there's more'n enough meat there for stew. I hope she makes rabbit stew first that's my favorite. It's Judy's favorite, too." Adjusting his loosely fitting pants, the boy continued to blabber on, "Judy said that her and me's gonna try out the slingshot you made me for m'birthday. That's why I got all them pebbles back there. Said she was gonna get some cans from Mama and Beth and Maggie and anyone else."

As his son continued to talk at him, he felt his heart swell. Life had dealt him the shittiest hand it possibly could, but he played it. There were times where he didn't think it was even worth it, ready to fold; however, there would be one thing that keep him going, then another, and another. "Daddy, I think today was a good day."

"I think so, too, lil' man."

It only took the end of the world to get a win, and that was okay with him.