↳ it's who we are now...
oc x carl grimes
season 4-7
TW: Mentions of death, gory depictions, suicide, alcohol and drug abuse, language, smoking, violence, depression, and other mature topics.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own or claim to own any of The Walk...
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I sleep in so late that by the time I wake up, the move for the others downstairs already took place. Daryl had been planning on staying with us, as well as Michonne. That makes six of us staying in our house. Luckily, there's three bedrooms upstairs, and three more downstairs. Everybody gets a room.
I fix myself a bowl of cold cereal. I eat the whole thing in a matter of minutes before heading back to my bedroom and changing my clothes. I put on a pair of light wash jeans and a sweatshirt. I braid my hair into two Dutch braids on either side of my head and lace up my boots. I'm cautious to be quiet as I pass Carl's door, not wanting to get myself involved in conversation at the moment, and leave the house.
It's another beautiful day. There's hardly even a wisp of a cloud in the sky. Just the same, it's not extremely warm out. I pull the ends of my sleeves around my hands and keep walking.
I don't know where I'm going. It's not until I get closer to the townhouses that I realize I'm heading to see Deanna. I try to remember which house she said was hers. In the midst of attempting to do so, Deanna comes out the front door of the second house. She notices me immediately and waves me her way.
"Good morning, dear," she smiles. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?"
"It is," I reply slowly. "I was wondering if I could speak with you." Deanna looks behind her through the open door, but turns back to me quickly.
"I think now would be a great time, actually. I just got Maggie started on her work for the day, so I think I should have a little free time." She pauses to usher me up the stairs. "Come on in." I nod, climbing the steps and walking through the door into the dimly lit house. Deanna closes the door and leads me to her study.
The room is just as I had seen it last. I take the seat I had taken the previous time. Deanna does the same, making sure she's across from me with her hands folded neatly in her lap. "I heard your group is officially staying."
"We are," I assure her.
"It's really nice to hear as much. Anyways, what did you want to speak to me about?" I look down at my hands in my lap, my gaze catching the scabs along my palms.
"When I had first met you, you talked to me about finding my purpose. I don't know how to do that." To be honest, I hadn't thought about it very deeply. Then again, after my first meek attempt at finding it, I had given up and didn't bother to try again.
Deanna nods her head in recollection. "I see. I'd love to help you, but I'm afraid I can't. That's something you'll have to do on your own." I don't know what answer I was expecting, or what answer I even wanted? Why am I so fixated on finding my purpose? It all feels meaningless. "Was there anything else?"
