Hate me or Hooked? pick. (Carl X Ron)

One.

Ron.

The snarls of the walkers echoed in Ron's mind. His breath hitching. Trying to keep his cool as the smell of rotting flesh clogged his nose. It made him mentally gag.
He held tightly onto Carl's hand, whom was holding onto his Moms hand. He looked around frantically, his heart pounding in his ears, every few seconds he leaned over Carl's shoulder to look over at Sam and his mom. Checking in on them.

'What if we don't make it.' He thought to himself, staring at a walker who managed to dig its rotted claws into a living thing. It was ripped apart. Ron couldn't tell what it was anymore, he inhaled deeply, but was inturrped when He bumped into Carl.
Ron missed quite a little bit spaced out. God.
Gabriel took Judith away, for what Carl whispered to him. Of course the snarky tone in his voice once Ron admitted to not paying attention.
Who could be snarky in this situation??
Carl. Course.
Rons attention turned a little more to his brother Sam, Ron couldn't pin what he was staring at, but it wasn't good.
He'd let go of Rick's hand, his mom now trying to pull him back.
"Sam." She whispered softly, trying to tug him back into the line.
"Cmon' sweetheart" she tried to reassure him with a smile, but he shook his head, his eyes glowing with fear.
Ron given him a look of 'get back in line' once Sam gazed to him. But it was too late.
A walker snagged onto his arm, Biting into the nape of his neck, blood splattering across his moms face, letting out a scream that could break glass. Seconds later a second one latched on, biting into his temple, it's nails digging into hus cheek as it held his head in place while they ripped him apart. Rick tried his best to have Ron's mom let Go of Sam's hand, Shouted whispers were sent to her, but her sobs were too Loud. Causing a walker to drag her in.
He stood there. Ron did. Binking away harsh tears as he watched his family get gutted. His jaw Trembling when their screams and cries came to a stop.
Carl didn't stop.
He kept their hands stuck Together, Ron wants to break off and run away. Hopefully finding shelter but  he was scared. He was scared to end up the same way his family did.
His mind was starting to go blank. The only voice in his mind was a murderous on. Telling him to yank out the gum in the hem of his pants and shoot. That asshole. Shoot Rick.
He did all of this.
He chewed at his tounge, no longer tears of Sadness in his eyes, but anger, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as he snuck his hand under the walker flesh jacket he had on, then pulled out the gun.
It rested against this thigh for the few steps before he stole his hand away from Carl's, Causing him to pull his dad to a stop. Rick looked back, sweat running down his forehead, and his his eyes widening when he seen the gun.
"Ron." He spoke carefully, lifting a hand In a; 'its okay'. He was trying to have him drop the gun. Put it down.

Ron shook his head, slowly. All his anger was held in a small bullet. In a gun. Now In his hands. He bit his tounge, he wanted to shoot. Oh he did.
He heard Foot steps behind him. It was Michonne. Rick's side chick.
He jutted out his lower jaw.,
"We're already gunna' die, Rick." Ron chuckled, his finger tightening over the trigger, but before he did he felt a sharp pain on his back. Blood gushed on the blade when he saw it pushed through his side.
This stab wasn't enough to kill him. But enough to put him in pain. And it hurt like hell.
The gun went limp onto the ground after a loud bang echoed through the heard if walkers, their attention turning twords it with Snarls of amusement.
Then it was black.

. . .

Ron groaned, his side was stinging. It felt like someone kept poking their fingers into his flesh.
He opened his eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep he awoke from.
"Oh thank God you're awake!" A voice chuckled, their hand firmly on his forearm to give him a shake. It was Mickey.
He had a large plastered smile on his face, his eyes Narrow like he'd finally stopped crying.
"Whaat- are you doin' here?" Ron Muttered, sitting up to only wince in pain and retreat to laying down once again.
"Careful- She suggested not to sit up after you got stabbed." He sighed, Ron wasn't happy about being told about the news.
"I'm not dead?" He aksed.
"What?? Of course not Dummy" Mickey sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and cocked up an eyebrow.
"Feel proud of yourself num-nuts?" He asked. Starting up small talk.
Ron looked at him, tilting his head on his pillow.
"Proud? No I'm not fucking proud." Ron chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Good. You shouldn't be proud of shooting out Grimes's eye." He mumbled, rethinking his question.
Then Ron jolted up.
"Rick's eye?!" He felt the corners of his lips curve upwards in a hidden smile.
"No no- Carl. You shot out one of his eyes." He looked at Ron, rather concerned as he stood and tucked his chair into the table he gotten it from.
Ron sat there. Stunned. Guess getting stabbed was worth it.

. . .

Ron sighed. It's been a few days since he's been released. The place looked fixed., enough..
He was sent to his.. now old house to gather his things. He didn't have much anyhow, more like he couldn't take much. He was moving in with Rick. He was upset about it, but it couldn't win over how sad he felt being in his house where hus mom used to be. Sam.
He gulped down the air In his throat as he made his way to his parents room, pushing the door open and taken the box from inside his dad's pants drawer.
There it was, Cigarettes and a flask.
He smiled. The flask reminded him about the., happy-ish moments he had with his dad.
He blinked harshly and gathered the things and tossed them into a pair of socks. Did I mention there was also weed?
Ron tossed the bag over his shoulder and turned heel, making his way to the door, a tight grasped around the handle, twisting it and was now outside. In Rick's gaze. He was stuck there.
"You uh, ya' have everything?" He tilted his head, his thumbs sitting in the hem of his pants so he didn't have to rest them on his hips.
Ron nodded, biting at his inner cheek and watched Rick closely. He was far. Far from pleasant to having Ron stay with him. But Carl insisted. Of course that fucker did.
"Theres rules at the house now." He nodded, Ron wasn't surprised. He shot his sons eye out of the back of his head practically.
"You must be watched. 24/7 till we know you're., stable enough to be on your own" Rick took into consideration that he lost his family.
"I was 'bout to toss you over the fence but Carl told me not to. Do I suggest you thank him." He reminded, Ron felt his eye twitch with annoyance.
"Sure thing." Ron answered, smiling. He already got a 'talk' from Michonne about what would happen if he touched Carl. Hurt him. Do anything. To him.
He'd get it.
It sent a cold shiver to Ron's core, and he understood he couldn't blow this chance he got.

-

(1,302 words, thank you for reading. 'Two' will be posted soon)