𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 ↠ 𝘤.𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴

63: Twice as Far

Elle wanted to assist Rick in his plan to take out a Savior outpost, but of course, he didn't let her. It worked out in her favor, though. She heard about Maggie and Carol being taken hostage after Rick's group slaughtered every last person in the building. Knowing Rick, even if he had let her tag along, he wouldn't have let her step foot inside, which probably would have resulted in her joining Maggie and Carol.

Rick and Elle had a.. unique relationship. When they first met, Rick saw her as a companion. Later on, he saw her as a kid who had been through a lot and needed some sort of support system. He granted her freedom to go and do things he typically wouldn't let his son do, and he basically became her "protector," no matter how much she claimed she didn't need one. After the fall of the prison, when they reunited once again and they were met with Joe's group on the road, Rick saw red. His kids were in danger. He never considered Elle his daughter, per say, but she was his to protect. The next day, he made her a promise to try and do everything in his power to ensure she never went through something like what she went though the night on the road.

He kept that promise every day, whether or not Elle realized it. She simply thought he was just trying to keep her safe. In a way, he was. But it meant so much more to him than she knew.

A soft knock on Elle's door moved her attention from her book to the source of the noise. "Come in." She replied, closing the book.

The door opened to reveal the one-eyed boy. "Daryl and Rosita just took Denise out on a run." He said, fiddling with his hands.

"Oh okay. For what?" She asked, not exactly sure what the point of him telling her that was.

"Medicine, probably— I don't know. Um, she left before I could get my bandage changed." He said, still not looking up at her. Her expression softened, having an idea of why he was telling her this.

"Carl, if you're asking for my help, you know I have no problem doing so." She told him in a reassuring tone, gaining his gaze. "Just tell me what Denise usually does and I can do it." She gave him a small smile as she stood up from the bed and made her way over to him.

"Are you sure?" He asked, clearly anxious about her seeing his face for the first time since the accident.

"I'm sure. It'll be okay." She spoke as she followed him out the door. The house was empty as they made their way through it to get outside. Everyone was busy as they prepared for possibly anything and everything.

As they walked down the street and towards the infirmary, Carl reached out for Elle's hand. When she offered it to him, he only held a couple of her fingers instead of her whole hand. Carl seemed to find some sort of comfort in not holding her hand, yet something like a couple of her fingers or her sleeve. She didn't mind, of course. Whatever made him feel comfortable. Sure, they've held hands before, but only when one of them needed a form of comforting that wasn't verbal.

Ever since the night they kissed, they hadn't done anything. They haven't told anyone, they haven't done anything public that they didn't do before, and they were rarely in a situation where it was just the two of them. Part of them wondered if it was a one time thing, even though they did confess their feelings toward each other.

What they didn't realize was how different they actually acted around each other since the events. Other group members have noticed the flustered faces when the other entered the room, the glances they always snuck when the other wasn't looking, the fighting the urge to follow the other when they left the room. Naturally, the group had their suspicions, but they were fully convinced at this point that something had happened.

"Alright, tell me. What do I need?" Elle asked as they walked into the infirmary. Carl let go of her hand and sat down.

"Rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, gauze, and the bandages in that cabinet over there." He told her. Elle looked around and grabbed the items, setting them on the small tray that stood next to where he sat. She walked over to the sink to wash her hands before she would clean his wound.