"𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞„

five, envy

THE HEAT WAS GRUELLING, and hard on their backs as they turned their heads toward the sun. Carl Grimes intended to wipe sweat from his brow, but ended up just smearing dirt across his forehead.

The hours of time alone, walking ahead of his father with a scowl plastered to his face had indeed tainted him dearly. For days, he took care of the both of them, he killed walkers, he ate stale cereal with no milk (the worst part of it all, he had told Michonne) and watched as his dad lay unconscious on the sofa.

They'd been cooped up in an old slum building, a kind of desolate modern utopia. It was stacked with DVD's - broke back mountain, pulp fiction, the godfather - any classic movie lover's basics. It had books, too, and video games - Which he would've been excited about a year ago, but now his first thought was to use all the power cables to tie up the entrances securely.

Stuck here, Carl thought of three things endlessly: the question 'was his father going to be okay?', the whereabouts of Jane Peletier, and.......well, Judith. But he hated thinking about Judith, it made him want to throw up, or worse - throw himself out the window. It hurt so physically that he couldn't even say her name, let alone hear it. The sound of the syllables made a horrid shaped lump in his throat, that felt quite as good as it looked.

He did worry about Jane, a great deal - but if she had done what he had told her to, (to get to the bus, and, there should be no reason why she shouldn't have obeyed him) then she would be just fine. He did want her here, he missed her though he knew he'd see her soon enough. He had extreme hope they would meet again - everyone.

There was never a time where they hadn't pulled through. He was just scared for the casualties, as even when they were reunited people still died. They always did. And then he remembered the one fact he had been missing: that Rick grimes was always the one to pull them out of the mud.

Now, he was near death, and well, what was Carl supposed to do about it? He didn't know how to look after anyone, let alone his dad. He'd never, ever felt hopelessness like this before.

Those days were hard, but he managed to lead them through it, and in all the hurt, they found Michonne. Carl hadn't really ever made an effort to converse with her before the prison fell, but she was starting to grow on him - with her stringy cheese and candy bar antics.

"Anddddd....I win!" He yells, as Michonne stumbled off the train tracks. "I get the other half."

"Come on, you wouldn't do that to me," Michonne whines mockingly.

"You agreed to the bet!!" She smiles at him as he pleads, handing him her half of the bar defeatedly.

"Soooo.....you and Jane? You like her?" She asked. Rick watched them, smiling, as Carl got all shy.

"That came out of nowhere." He stated.

"You didn't answer my question," she taunted.

"Maybe," he says sheepishly, lowering his voice.

Rick laughs, deep and heartily. "We know kid, we know."

"You gonna tell her?" Michonne asks, the teasing tone gone and replaced with a curious one.

"When I see her again." The two adults smile and nod, because they're confident he will. They believe she got to the bus, just like Carl does.