Yay! Another one shot! So basically, this takes place in my "Only a Kid, but Hard to Scare" universe. Carl and Lizzie have a different relationship in this story though, because in "OAKBHTS", Lizzie and Carl seem to be friends, in this story, they are wary of each other. Pairings are Carl/Amanda, Carl/Eliza bromance, Sophia/Patrick, and sprinklings of parings found in OAKBHTS. Enjoy!

Out of all of the people Carl could have gotten for secret Santa, it had to be Lizzie. Creepy Lizzie who named walkers and acted so innocent, but was a good a shot as Carl, maybe even better. But he would never admit that.

Carl loved Lizzie's sister, Mika. She was strong and mature and brave. Plus, one time he heard her call Lizzie stupid.

Which she totally was.

Amanda laughed when she heard. "Of corse you got Lizzie! I mean, you did yell at her for named a walker Nick the other day. Now you can put things right."

"You sound like Hershel," Carl grumbled.

Amanda let out her clear, beautiful laugh one more, and pecked Carl on the cheek.

"Who did you get?" Carl asked his girlfriend.

"Patrick. Shouldn't be to hard." Amanda shrugged.

Carl smirked, "You sure? Sophia will kill you if you get something TOO good. You know how competitive she is."

"Shit." Amanda muttered, "Thanks for that, Carl. I sure owe you one."

"I'll trade you."

"Ha ha ha no."

"Yo Grimes!" The voice of Eliza Morales echoed through C Block.

"Which one?" Somebody, probably Glenn, shouted from within a cell.

"Carl, obviously." Eliza sounded pissed, which was never good.

"I'm here!" Carl called out in a muffled voice.

Eliza found him lying on his bed, face in his pillow.

"Wanna trade Secret Santa?" Eliza asked.

Carl shot up, nearly hitting his head on the top of the bunk. "Yes! OMIGAWD yes! Who do you have? I don't care. Let's trade!"

Eliza backed away a couple of steps. "Uh... I have Beth?"

"I've got Lizzie!" Carl rushed, "Here trade me!"

Eliza looked terrified at the piece of paper Carl held out to her with a shakeup hand.

"Um, no it's okay... Lizzie creeps me out so..." Eliza darted away, leaving Carl to lay face down on his bed again.

Carl found Mika Samules in his cell when he came back from dinner.

"Hello Carl." She said.

"Uh... Hi?" He responded. It wasn't everyday he came upon a blonde ten-year-old girl sitting on his bed.

Normally, they were fourteen and called either Amanda or Sophia.

Mika stared at him without sayin a word.

Carl broke the silence, "Uh, can I help you?"

"No. But I can help you." She kept staring.

"Ooookay?"

"Amanda sent me. She told me you drew Lizzie for seceret Santa. And so I'm here to help you think of gift ideas." Mika explained.

Carl sighed with relief, "Thank God! Oh, Mika you're a lifesaver!"

Carl grabbed a notepad from his backpack, as well as a pen, to take notes.

"So?" Carl flopped on the bed, smiling at Mika.

"She needs a knife." And with that, Mika left the room, leaving Carl with only one idea.

A knife for Crazy Lizzie.

"A knife?" Sophia raised an eyebrow.

"That's what Mika said." Carl said with a sigh.

The two of them plus Eliza, Patrick, and Amanda sat on the bleachers in the courtyard outside if the prison.

"Why does she need a knife?" Patrick asked, "We're perfectly safe here!"

"The girl wants a knife, Patrick!" Eliza exclaimed, hanging upside down off of the top bleacher.

"But Mika said she NEEDS a knife, not that she WANTS a knife." Amanda said.

"What's the difference." Grumbled Eliza.

"That's our problem. Do I give her something she needs? Or something she wants?" Carl asked.

"Why does she need a knife?" Patrick repeated.

"You never know." Sophia sighed.

"Maybe I should ask Lizzie herself." Carl suggested.

"No!" Everyone yelled in unison.

Carl jumped.

Amanda placed her hand over his. "It's just... She's smarter than she looks. She'll figure out what you're up to the second you start talking. It's called seceret Santa for a reason."

There were nods all around.

"Then I guess we'll just have to spy on her." Carl sighed.

This was going to be a hell of a holiday.

The staticky voice of Eliza Morales echoed through the walky-talky. She, her little brother Louis, and Mika were stationed in the library.

"We have eyes on Blondie."

Carl and Amanda, who were interviewing Lizzie's closest friends, revived the news. So did Sophia and Patrick, who were snooping through Lizzie's cell.

"Rodger that." Carl replied, then Patrick.

Amanda yanked the walky-talk out of Carl's hands. "Does she have a knife?"

Eliza responded a few seconds later, "Nooope. She has a holster, but no knife."

"A gun?" Sophia asked.

"No gun, either."

"Huh." Amanda grunted.

"She's reading a book!" Eliza noted.

"What's the title?" Asked Patrick.

"How to Use a Knife for Dummies."

"Really?!"

Eliza laughed, "No, it's "Lord of the Flies."

"You suck."

"Come on, Eliza!"

"God, you're such a bitch."

"Stop!"

"I hate that book."

Eliza cackled.

Sophia gasped.

"What? What is it?"

"She has the cutest pair of earrings in here!" Exclaimed the blonde.

"We are never going to get this done." Carl said.

"So, knife it is?" Amanda asked.

"Knife it is." Carl nodded.

Throught their day of spying, only one thing became clear: Crazy Lizzie needed a knife.

She was helpless and scared and weak. And over the course of that one day, the group had become attached to her. She was kind and caring and gentle, like a puppy dog. And nobody wanted to see her get hurt. So, a knife it was.

Carl wrote it on a sheet of paper and handed it to Daryl. "For Lizzie."

Daryl nodded and ruffled Carl's hair. "You got it Lil' Man."

He brought back a beautiful knife, a steak knife with a cork handle. It would fit into Lizzie's holster, and on the handle, Carl carved her name into it. He grabbed a clean rag to wrap it in, and for her to clean it with. He set it under the tree, excited for her too open it.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS MOTHER FU-" Eliza was cut of by Sophia putting a hand over her mouth.

She pounced on Carl's bed, shaking him awake.

Once he had assured her that he was awake, she and Sophia ran away, into Amanda's cell.

Grinning, Carl pulled on a shirt and socks, and walked out into the cafeteria.

Patrick handed him his gift, "Merey Christmas, Carl."

"Merry Christmas, Pat."

The tag on his gift read, "To Carl, From Lizzie."

What a coincidence.

He opened up the newspaper-wrapped gift to reveal an old, dirty name tag that had been ripped off another price of fabric. In blue writing, it read "Nick".

Carl pulled a letter out after it.

Dear Carl,

You're right. I shouldn't name the walkers. So I killed this one. It isn't much I a Christmas present, but I thought it might make you feel better. You helped me. I know I have to be strong, I can't be weak. I look up to you, Carl Grimes. You're smart and kind and so brave. I hope to be like you. I also hope that we can be friends. And finally, I hope you can help me. I sure need it.

Merry Christmas, Lizzie

And Carl knew that he and his friends would do everything in their power to help the flower of Lizzie Samules survive in this cruel world.