Don't own Walking Dead. Just the Jacobs family.
Did you know Merle is a Pokemon?" Arron asked the tiny human sitting in the car seat in front of him on his dining room table. His not-friend, Merle, had dropped the tiny human off at his house just minutes before, then ran off calling a 'be back later for 'im,' back over his thin shoulder. Arron was left staring at the new born baby with a blank face. Where in the world did this come from? He wondered. Better yet, why had Merle just suddenly thrown a baby at him? "That's why he's always running off. Try not to get offended, okay?"
Arron stared into the pink bag of flesh's blue eyes. No… He paused in thought leaning down into the child's face, green? He wondered as he stared into the surface of the baby's eyes. The child stared back into Arron's, at the moment, gray eyes, watching as the color slowly shifted as Arron grew closer, cutting off the artificial lighting to his eyes. "Blue-green," Arron decided. "Or green-blue?" he asked raising a dark eyebrow. Arron really didn't know what they were or how to explain them. When the eight year old realized he was practically in the baby's face, Arron moved back out of its breathing circle before he somehow suffocated it.
"Say, you wouldn't happen to be a kidnapped victim or ransom cargo or something would you?" Arron was eight; of course, his genius of a mind would come up with some really stupid and far fetch reason for Merle's sudden burden to be dropped off on him. Granted, Merle himself was eight as well, Merle seemed to be going places nowadays with his new group of older friends. Not good places, either. Arron knew Merle's older friends weren't really the friendly type. They were really the 'I'll slit your throat' type, which meant, if they got in trouble, Merle would be suffering jail time with them in the future.
The baby seemed to find something about Arron funny, because suddenly there was a fit of giggles echoing around the dining room kitchen area, catching Arron's attention again. "What?" he asked tiny child, "I take it that's a no then."
Arron tilted his head to the side as he studied the baby through his brown locks. Now that he thought about it, Merle didn't drop off a baby bag or anything to take care of the baby with. Hell, the said Pokemon didn't even drop off the baby in the carrier. Arron found it at the entry way of the basement with all Arron's old baby stuff. Maybe, Arron wondered as he studied the hairless human, there are more useful things down there? Arron scratched his head. Can't just leave him here, though, while I look through the underground junk yard. "Well," he started, wondering if the baby even understood him, "I suppose you'll have to come with me while I dig through the mountain of useless cr—er, stuff." Arron almost cursed in front of a baby. Dang it. This was going to be a little harder than he expected.
Grabbing the well-worn handle of carrier, Arron, gently, lifted the baby from the table, walking the short distance to the basement door. "Well, kiddo," he said, looking down at the child as he reached for the door, "I hope you're ready for an adventure, 'cause that's what we're going to be doing." The baby made a funny gurgling sound, waving tiny fists in all kinds of random directions. It looked to be trying to show its excitement. Arron shook his head at that thought. It was a baby. Babies didn't really have feelings like excitement yet. At least… he didn't think so.
Anyway, he thought as he pulled himself from his thoughts, chiding himself in his head, got stuff to be doing. Arron pulled the door open, reaching in to flip on the light for the stair well. "Well, looks safe enough," he muttered to himself, like he always did before walking down this particular stair case. Arron watched a lot of horror movies and anime. He knew would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't at least a little scared of the basement stair case. Its weird, he amused as he moved forward, glancing down at the tiny human he was carrying every other step or so to make sure it was alright, it's just the stairs that unnerve me. Once I make it to the bottom, I'm fine. Just as he finished the thought, Arron stepped down from the last stair, heaving a sigh of relief as he glanced back at the, admittedly, creepy stair case.
"Right," Arron sighed, turning to the mountain of junk shoved half assed into an even bigger mountain of boxes. Some of the boxes were labeled, some were not… most weren't. It seemed his parents really didn't care all too much to spare the five seconds it would take to narrow Arron's search down. "So, then," the eight year old set the baby down as carefully as he could and glanced back at the mountain of the lost, "Guess I should get started, huh?" He asked the tiny person next to him. It was starting to feel strange talking to this little monster of pink flesh.
-
An hour later, Arron gave up. He found an old play pen and a box of toys and old clothes that might fit the tiny child, he didn't know, but really that was it. The only reason he found that was because the play pen was leaning next to the entry way around the same area he'd found the car seat in. By this time, the tiny kidnapped victim in said car seat had begun crying. Arron was beside himself. He really didn't know what to do with a crying victim, er, baby, and he was beginning to panic. "Shut up, please," He begged the baby as he rocked the car seat, something he had seen his dad do a few times when Arron visited him at work. "Please, stop crying?" He half-heartedly asked the child, knowing full well it wouldn't work.
Okay, okay, Arron sighed, hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand, trying to get himself to think through the panic. "Think. Think. Think." He punctuated each word with a hit to the forehead. "What do the mothers in anime do?" He asked himself. It was Arron's problem solving question. If he had a problem, he'd ask Anime. Seriously. When normal people asked, 'What would Jesus do,' Arron asked, 'What would Anime do?' Taking a deep breath, Arron shifted through his memories of all the shows he'd watch. Mothers in Anime were usually background characters. Babies were usually background characters in the shows he watched. However, there were a few Mangas he'd glossed over a few times with a baby as a main character. Arron hit his head a few more times, this time trying to come up with a title to look up. He didn't have time to read it, he suppose, but he could glance through a few online Mangas for answers.
"Stay right here," Arron told the baby, awkwardly, as he got up to go get his Laptop from his room. Seriously, he chided himself as he hopped up the steps two at a time, where's he going to go. This is one of those days he wished his parents hadn't started to work late. They would surely know what to do. He thought as he grabbed his laptop and ran down the stairs, to the baby's side. Arron lifted the screen, pressing the power button, all while rocking the baby again. "Come on. Come on," he chanted as the loading screen popped up. "Seriously," he growled at the laptop. It was taking too long. After a few seconds that felt like hours, the laptop transferred to an update screen. "Seriously!" Arron shouted at the stupid laptop. "Fuck this." He turned away from the laptop and pulled out his Samsung. Grumbling, Arron unlocked the phone. "Stupid laptops," he muttered, "Never there when you really need them." Swiping through the main app screens, Arron found the app he read all his Mangas on, #Mangania, and tapped the black and green icon.
Arron looked up at the crying baby. He wasn't going to lie. At this point, Arron felt like he was losing the battle. The baby was crying, the laptop was lagging, and he was really too stressed to think of the Manga title he needed. He was going to have to go through every title randomly using the old fashion search engine method manually. He sighed. Where was Merle? Why wasn't Merle taking care of the baby? Who the hell was this baby anyway? An introduction would have been nice. Hell, anything would be nice at this point in Arron's life.
How long can a baby cry before it hurt its self? Arron wondered as he looked back down at his screen, tapping the first title in the browse list: (g) Edition. Hentai manga artist; no. He pressed the back button. +anima: Beings with animal-like powers. Nope. This was going to take a while he realized. +c Sword And Cornett: he seriously doubted it, so he skipped over it. …Seishunchuu!: doubt it. Next, … no Onna … This was taking too long. Arron growled in frustration. In some desperate need for help, the eight year old looked up at his laptop.
"Finally," he breathed a sigh of relief, seeing the start screen. Quickly, Arron reached over typing in the password of the week: Merle_is_ *A-capital_D (He was angry at Merle at the time, so sue him). Once the main screen loaded up, Arron clicked on his Google Chrome. Clicking 'restore' was a natural habit for him by now. Arron growled as tab after tab popped up on his window. Damn it, he really needed to learn to exit out of his tabs, he thought in frustration. "Fuck it," he said as he minimized the window and opened FireFox. When the google home page popped up, Arron clicked in the search bar. Anime with babies, he typed. Browse Babies Characters | Anime-Planet? He asked himself, clicking the link. This could take a while, he thought as he stared blankly at the list of Anime babies and the anime they were from.
Idly, Arron ran his mouse over the bottom of the screen to see the time. The kids been crying for a good thirty minutes. He wondered if that was a bad thing.
-
So… it was official. Arron is the worse baby sitter in the world. He realized this when he finally took a break in searching for 'How to's online. Seriously, smell the baby's dipper was apparently all he needed to do for this little one. He also found that the kid was a male. Why hadn't he thought to look before? Now, the problem was the dippers. Not only did Arron not know how to change a dipper, but he also had no dippers to put the kid in. Back to the internet, he sighed as he opened a new web page. The Internet had all the answers right?
-
Arron stared at the hand towel he had wrapped around the baby's butt. Why did he feel like this was going to be an even longer day then he thought it would be? While Arron had followed the instructions to the T, the make shift butt cover just refused to stay closed. At least, the kid wasn't crying anymore. This gave Arron a small piece of mind. "Jeez, kiddo. You're a crier," he stated aloud as the tiny male giggled. Well, at least when nothing is bothering him, the baby seemed to be a happy baby, Arron thought as he wrapped a body towel around the tiny baby like a blanket. He looked like a fluffy human burrito now to Arron. Scratching his head, Arron stared at the baby. "So…" he drug out the word, "What now?" Arron wondered. Maybe he should actually go to the store and get the kid some dippers and… food, now that he thought about it. Apparently, babies needed to eat ever… Arron checked the site again to make sure he had his facts right. 2 to 3 hours?! "Tha hell, kid!" he said in amazement, "Your going to be fat." Arron stressed the word fat. "But…" he sighed out, lifting his left hand to his head to scratch his head, a habit he was already developing around the kid, "I suppose ain't nothing I can do about it. It is an official health site, apparently."
Yeah, okay, so his search for the answer to the things he needed to know though Anime half failed. Arron would admit that it probably wasn't a good idea to look for an Anime you didn't remember the title of. Made looking for the answer that much harder, but, seriously, what else was he supposed to do? Anime and Manga was his life nowadays. It seemed to have all the answers he wanted to know before, why would this time be any different? Arron was sure there was something in the genre that could help him. He was sure of it. He knew there was. Arron just needed to find it. And, he would…. Just… right now, he couldn't, not when he still had the baby to actually take care of.
"Where's your Muma?" Arron wondered out loud. "Ain't she worried for ya?" he asked the child, not really expecting an answer. Glancing at the time on his phone, which was sitting next to him on the carpeted floor in the living room, Arron checked the time. Six something, he thought. He wondered if Merle ever planned on coming for the baby. Did he forget about him or was he just not coming? Arron didn't know what to do now. He'd already had the baby for around 2 hours, which means it was getting time for the little guy to eat. If he wasn't already hungry, Arron thought as he looked at the tiny being. Merle probably didn't feed him either. Probably doesn't know the first thing about babies either.
Arron sighed. "Well," He said as he pushed himself off the floor, moving towards the kitchen and leaving the baby, "Guess it's up to me then to find something you can eat." Absently, Arron reached up to the can on the fridge. "I don't think I can leave you here," the eight year old told the baby through the door way, "but I'm not sure taking you with me would be a good idea." He pulled the lid off the can, looking inside. "It would raise so many unneeded questions already just buying the baby stuff." He pulled out a twenty and a ten from the emergency stash. This was an emergency for Arron so Arron didn't see it as wrong. Then he put the lid back on and stashed the can back on top of the fridge. Half-heartedly, Arron noted that he no longer needed a chair to reach it. Though, he did still need to tippy toe. He was getting taller. Not that he had much time to think about it at the moment. Just wondered why he never noticed before. Probably because I spent so much time alone, he thought as he made his way back to the living room, money stashed in his front pockets.
He stared down at the wiggling burrito. "I'm gonna have ta leave you 'ere," he said, his voice picking up a slight country slang he picked up from Merle somewhere along the way. If his parents were here, they'd probably scold him for it. Then again, if they were here, like they were supposed to be, he wouldn't be in this situation. Arron wouldn't have to decide whether to leave a baby on its own, even for a few minutes, or to take the baby with him and probably get pulled over for looking like a neglected child. Hell, he'd already look like a neglected child just by walking in the store if it wasn't for his smart way of dressing. They would look at his clothes and assume his parents were just around the corner or something. If he walked in with a baby covered in towels, however, it didn't matter how he dressed. They'd take one look at the baby and call the cops. Somehow, Arron knew that wouldn't go over well with Merle or Merle's home life. Where ever Merle got this baby, Arron was pretty sure it had to do with that: Merle's home life.
With a sigh, Arron walked over to the play pen and started to set it up. "Guess I have no choice here," the eight year old muttered to himself as he worked. "At least you'll be safe in the pen." Not that it made him feel any better. Arron liked to think he was responsible. He liked to think he was an adult. His parents treated him like one, thus the reason for no babysitter, but this situation made him feel even more like a child. He just wanted his parents to come home. He wanted them to tell him what to do, to take the baby off his hands so he wouldn't have feel useless. Except that wasn't going to happen. His parents were working later and later these days.
Actually, when he thought about it, the last time he saw them together was the day he decided to make friends with his not-friend Merle. That was a year ago. Arron was a smart kid. He knew his parents were avoiding each other. It may not have started out that way, but it was sure ending like it. Sometimes, he wondered what happen between them to cause the rift. They had seemed like such a happy couple, always laughing, always smiling, and always making funny, childish remarks. Then, suddenly out of the blue, or what felt like it, it all happened so fast in his eyes, they just stopped coming home. When they did come home, it was always one or the other, never both of them at once. They still loved him, still joked around and pretended nothing was wrong; so, Arron pretended everything was okay too, even though, it clearly was not.
"Ow!" Arron yanked his hand back from the pieces he just snapped together. The baby laughed at him while he looked over the small red spot on the webbing between his index finger and thumb where the pieces bit into. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up," He grumbled as he stuck the soar in his mouth, sucking on it lightly. He guessed this was what he got for being distracted. Dropping his hand, Arron sighed. "Alright then." He back tracked to where the baby was laying. "You're gonna be on your own for a bit," Arron told the kid as he picked the baby up, taking him to the completed pen. "But, it shouldn't be long, okay?" He continued as he placed the baby down in the pen. "Papa Arron is going to get you some formula so you can eat." He didn't really notice the little nickname he'd given himself until he was already making his way to the door. Eight years old and already feeling like a daddy, he thought bitterly. Not that it's the kids fault. "Be patient, okay?" He called over his shoulders as he stepped out the door. He closed the door quietly as he could and locked it. "Okay," Arron told himself as he walked down the driveway to the road. "Okay then." He turned towards the small town store. "I got this. I won't be long."