SWEET THORNS IN MY BLOOD ⸻ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝

NINE / "Repent, son."

CHAPTER NINE
repent son

Percy wandered down the path, the warm air caressing his skin and filling his lungs with joy. To his side walked the boy, Carl, holding Judith in his arms. The soft babbling of the baby echoed through the air. The sunshine tickled his cheeks, a gentle caress of warmth that had been missing for months. He breathed deeply, savoring the sweet scent of trees that filled his lungs.

Walking alongside the boy Percy couldn't tolerate a day ago, he saw the transformation in their dynamic from a troubled, rivalry to a peaceful, content one. Suddenly, a warm blush spread across Carl's cheeks as he turned to Percy and said, "Judith really likes you."

"Really?" Percy's eyes softened, lips parted while a slight smile is at play, right brow slightly raised. "You know, my dad use to say babies loved me."

"Where's your dad now?" Carl inquired. His pupils dilate considerably, a bright glimmer in his eyes, "If you don't mind me asking."

"Probably dead — the people at Terminus had his wallet, it only makes sense."

Carl hadn't looked away the entire time Percy's been speaking. Carl couldn't help but stare at his lips shaping each word, every syllable. He watched the muscles in his arm tense while he spoke. "I don't care. Whatever happened to him, he deserved it. He was a asshole." Percy murmured.

"Help!" A masculine voice echoed the forest, piercing their ears. "Help, anybody! Help!"

Like a switch being flipped, Carl's hand had swiftly motioned upwards, imploring his father, Rick, to be a savior: "Dad, come on!" he yelled, his voice breaking.

Eventually the group quickly made their way to the source of the voice, viewing the situation. A man and a teenaged boy beside him, trapped on a rock as he tries to kick the walkers attempting to eat them. Carl quickly raised his gun, shooting a bullet it's head.

Percy dug his dagger into a walker's socket, Michonne bashing one's head in with the handle of a rifle. The group fell silent, snapping their heads side to side with adrenaline as they look for anymore. "We're clear." Rick announced.

"Keep watch." The group did as told as Rick stares at the men on the rock.

"Come on down." The two guys hopped down from the rock. The older one, still visibly shaking. "You okay?" The man raised his hand as a pause before leaning over and vomiting onto the dirt with a cough. The group looked away with a grimace.

"Sorry."

"It's okay." Percy waved a dismissive hand.

"I'm Gabriel." He announced. "That's Jesse James." The younger boy beside him laces a hand through his hair, obviously panicked. That's when Percy decided to examine him.

Black hair disheveled, brown eyes warm, nose crooked, cheeks hollow, lips thin, his shirt was black and tight, enhancing the paleness of his skin. Percy's dark brows furrowed in wonder as his eyes met his. He smelt of sweat, coffee and bad decisions.

A small, "Percy? ...." escaped his lips before a small, shocked gasp before he broke into a run. Without a second thought, Jesse tackled him into a hug, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Percy's arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, and the embrace felt like home.

"I thought you were dead," Jesse breathed, a laugh of pure disbelief slipping off his tongue.

Percy's face was buried in Jesse's chest, his arms curled around him in a protective embrace. A soft, contented "Same" emerged from his lips.

Carl's jealous gaze was focused on the hugging pair, watching as the boy rests his hand on the side of Percy's face — his thumb rubbing back and forth on his soft skin.