Natural Born Leader (Carl Grimes x OC)

Chapter Eleven: It's Not Your Fault

The air is so cold I'm beginning to lose feeling to my fingers, but I also just feel so warm that I could curl into myself and go to sleep right here on the roof.

I'm laying down, looking at the stars above me, in between Ron and Carl. Enid Lays on the other side of Ron and Mikey is sitting up, his legs crossed.

I feel like I'm floating and I start to think about how many sips from that bottle of Smirnoff I've had. I can't remember. Or maybe I just can't count anymore.

"I just think that somewhere up there, there's gotta be aliens," Carl says. I turn my head to look at him. The stars are reflecting in his bright blue eyes, making it look like there's little galaxies on his face. "And they're probably watching us right now... thinking 'what the fuck'." I wish I had a camera so I could take a picture to capture the way the icy breeze moves his hair and so I could look at the way his hat sits on his chest, moving up and down with his breathing, forever.

I laugh, silently agreeing that there has to be aliens up in space.

I hear snoring next to me. I flip my head the other way to see Ron is laying next to me with his eyes closed and mouth open. I start laughing even harder. I can't remember the last time I laughed like this.

"He lost our game," Enid says, giggling. "I knew he was spouting bullshit when he said he wouldn't fall asleep."

We all keep laughing together for quite sometime, making every little thing seem like it's the most hilarious thing ever. When it quiets down, Mikey is the first to speak.

"I should probably go to bed," he says. "And not on a roof. Like in my actual bed." He stands up and brushes off his hands.

"I'll go with you. It's getting late anyway and Ron needs to get his ass up eventually," says Enid, standing and nudging Ron awake with her boot.

The three of them leave, Ron muttering nonsense as they climb through the window and disappear into the house. Now it's just me and Carl.

I sit up and reach for the bottle. Carl's hand makes a slapping noise as it connect with mine to stop me.

"We have both had enough," he states, dragging out his words like he's try to learn how to speak again.

"You are so rude, Grimes." I huff and lay back down. My head does a weird spinning thing and I stare straight forward until it stops.

It's quiet for a bit. We can still faintly hear music playing a few floors down, even though most people have left.

"So," Carl starts off. He looks at me, eyes twinkling. "Where'd you learn how to make such awesome bracelets?" His eyes are on the yarn wrapped around my wrist and he's obviously joking, because this makeshift bracelet is barely hanging on.

A sigh escapes my lips. Where do I start? Distantly, sober me is screaming some bullshit about opening up. Right now, I couldn't care less about what deep trauma I tell Carl about.

"Linley gave it to me," I tell him.

I can feel his question before it ever leaves his mouth. "Who's Linley?"

"She was nine when she got bit and died," I start off, carefully. "Summary is that my group got too comfortable in a town in South Carolina and I let my guard down. Walkers came during the night and I lost sight of Linley. She got bit. I put a bullet in her brain."

Carl is silent. He seems to be thinking. I bet he's probably got a few stories of his own that are similar to me and Linley's.

I decide to keep going, only to fill up the silence. "She was like my little sister. Always optimistic, though most kids are. She was just different." I think about my memory I have of her dragging me by the arm to help her solve a puzzle she found in some random house. It had several pieces missing, so we never finished it. "She was... like the rope. Holding us all together. Everyone counted on me, but everyone could count on Linley to truly make us feel better."

"I know what you're thinking," Carl says. "It is in no way your fault."

He doesn't know that. "Before I shot her, she told me she was just trying to be like me. Save everyone." I let out a bitter, cold laugh. "I don't save everyone. I didn't save her."

Carl's hand meets mine. He squeezes it and his thumb rubs a soft line up and down my pointer finger. I feel so light in this moment, I swear I'm actually levitating.

"She died in comfort knowing it was you that helped her not become one of those things." I'm now looking and facing Carl directly. We're both on our sides, hands still linked.

I feel that knot in my throat. My eyes are tired and begging me to just let the tears fall, but I don't allow it. I never allow it. My brain conjures up the faces of everyone I've lost over the years. Linley, Jaxon's sister, Grace, Miss Smith, Miss Quail, Mr Elordi, Rory, the list could go on and on. People I've known only a day to people I had known for years. I really don't know if I will be able to stop the tears this time. I can't do this right now. Not in front of some stranger I met barely twenty-four hours ago.

I pull my hand out of Carl's and stand up swiftly, swaying slightly when I get on my feet. I guess I underestimated how drunk I am.

"I'm going to bed, Carl," I state, not giving him any room to bring up any part of what we just talked about. "And I'll see you in the morning."

Carl opens his mouth to say something, but I hold up my hand in a gesture that says 'stop'. I don't want to hear him pity me. Or tell me that I'm not responsible. I don't want to hear any of it anymore.

"Goodnight," Carl says.

I nod my head, bite my lip, and walk to the exit of the roof. "Night," I respond, climbing through the window.