Envy in the Ashes // carl grimes

Point of No Return

After my little romantic greeting with Ron, I made my way back home, desperately needing a shower to wash the thick, dried blood off of me. It's truly sickening, the smell, the look, the feeling. It reminds me of before Alexandria, when I was just barely hanging onto whatever shred of life I had left to fuel me.

I quietly made my way across the living room and up the stairs, being sure not to wake Judith as her and Michonne cuddled on the couch. As I make it into my room, I peel my jacket off my body and drop it to the floor, feeling a freeing sense of relief as the cool air hit my bare arms. It may be winter time, but all the running, climbing, and stress, will make you sweat through every layer. I quickly kicked my shoes off my feet as well and went over to my dresser to find comfortable clothes to put on after my shower. I grab a navy blue tank top, a pair of gray sweatpants with a fresh pair of socks, and then make my way out of my room towards the bathroom.

Now I cannot even begin to fathom why this happens, but just like clockwork, I'm met in front of the bathroom door by non-other than Carl.

"Shit, I'm sorry, um, you go first.." I mumble nervously looking up at him.

"No you go, I can wait it's alright." he insists, and it's then that I notice his fist is balled up again, like it was earlier.

"Are you alright?" I ask, now changing the subject as I look at his hand hoping for a better look.

"Uh, yeah, I just cut my hand back at the grocery store, not a big deal, I'm just gonna wrap it up."

"Let me see..." I demand gently at a whisper. He looks up at me and furrows his eyebrows, his face screaming hesitation. I soften the look on my face and tilt my head, looking up into his eyes.

"Let me see Carl." I ask once more. He holds eye contact with me for another few seconds, but finally gives in with a defeated sigh as he opens up his hand. My lips parts slightly, almost dropping my jaw as I take a good look at his wounded hand. The cut is deeper than he described, as it's a one and a half inch gash trailing across the palm of his hand, still trickling blood each time he moves it.

Without a word from either of us, I swing open the bathroom door and move inside, motioning my head for him to follow me, and he does.

"It's fine Char, really. I'll wrap it up." he tries to reason with me as I shut the door behind us.

"Carl, shut up, and sit down so I can clean it." I snap at him, but not angrily, just slightly irritated that he doesn't want help.

As I start digging through the drawers underneath the sink, he sits down on the floor, leaning his back up against the bathtub. After digging aimlessly for a few seconds, I find what I was looking for, rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, a wash cloth, gauze, and medical tape. I breathe a quiet sigh of relief as I scoop the supplies up into my arms and carry them to where Carl is sitting, and I sit down on the floor right in front of him.

"Gimme..." I say plainly and straight to the point as I hold my hand out as a demand for him to give me his wounded hand.

He places his hand in mine, and extends his fingers open so I have access to the wound. As I flip open the cap to the rubbing alcohol, I look up at him and into his eyes empathetically.

"This is gonna hurt like a bitch, you might want to bite onto this..." I mumble, and hand him the washcloth I had grabbed.

Carl takes the washcloth from me and hesitates for a minute, but then rolls up the washcloth, and places it in his mouth between his teeth. Once he prepares himself he gives me a nod, and I lift up the bottle of rubbing alcohol and pour some over his hand. His hand begins to shake, and he lets out a low groan as he clenches his jaw to bite the cloth in his mouth, throwing his head back in pain. His eyes stay clenched shut as we let the alcohol sit on his hand to clean out any dirt or germs, and with my free hand I reach over and grab his.