☆ 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 ★ carl g.

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"No son of mine," he hissed lowly. "Will bed a freak."

A soft breath of sorrow escaped Esme's mouth as her bottom lip trembled, looking away. Her heart ached.

"Hey, hey—what the hell's goin' on over here?" The panicked voice growing closer pulled Esme's eyes back open, her attention following the sound. Rick was jogging up to them, his hand hovering over the gun tucked tightly into his holster.

Esme removed her hands from her face, a small blood smear coating the tips of her fingers from where her nose had begun to bleed. She had to grasp the railing to pull herself up as her knees wobbled from the adrenaline.

Rick was up the steps and quick to face Pete, their mouths fixated in scowls and their breath heavy. Esme gave Rick's sleeve a light tug to get the fuming man's attention.

"Rick, it's fine," she pleaded in a whisper.

"Yeah, it's fine, officer," Pete sneered, his words slurred from his intoxication. "She just tripped. You know how cripples can be."

Rick was ready to attack, a fierce determination in his eyes—a look Esme was familiar with. Before the man could lunge, Esme pulled him back by his sleeve.

"Rick, please."

Rick looked down at her, his lips tucking inward as he thought. "You sure?" He asked her quietly, raising his brows in question. His fists balled.

Esme would've relished seeing Rick unleash his fury upon the man, watching him crumble into a mess of teeth and hair on the concrete under Rick's rageful boots. But Ron wouldn't have liked that, and Esme didn't want to put him through more pain.

She knew how Ron felt about his father, the deep resentment and hatred. Ron may have wished nothing but suffering for his mental father, but he was bound by the complex ties of family.

So, Esme nodded in confirmation. "Yes. I'm sure."

Rick let out a soft sigh. He took her wrist gently in his hand, guiding her down the steps while casting one final glare in Pete's direction. Once away, he knelt down in front of her, his eyes darting all around the visible parts of her face as he inspected her injury.

"Are you okay?" He asked while wiping away a bit of the blood from her nose.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

She swallowed hard. "Yeah."

Rick gave her a sympathetic look, rising to his feet and placing a hand atop her head momentarily to comfort.

"Alright. I'll take care of it, don't worry." He looked off back in the direction of the house, squinting in the sun as he seemed lost in thought. "I don't want you going over there anymore, okay?"

"Okay."

❦

Esme was over the wall.

The transition was a blur. One moment, she stood alone on the sidewalk, processing the physical abuse she had endured from her friend's father, and the next, she saw Carl with his distinctive blue puffy jacket scaling the walls of Alexandria. Without much thought, she propelled herself into danger, copying the reckless behavior she often scolded him for.

Crunching leaves and disturbed earth guided her towards the source of the noise, her steps light in action. Carl, not known for his quiet movement, made it easier for her to trail him. In this moment, she was thankful for his lack of wilderness finesse, setting aside her usual frustration with his clumsy antics.