She saved me (Carl Grimes x Reader)

Saving Jack

Carl's POV

I went on a run with my dad. We got some food, drinks, blankets and clothing. I took out a granola bar from my bag.

"Want one?" I smiled.

"No thanks." My dad laughed. The two of us walked around an area filled with trees. I felt something hit my head and I stopped on my tracks. I turned around to see a pine cone on the floor.

"What the...?" Was all I managed to get out. Then a pine cone hit my dad in the back of his head who was ahead of me.

"Quit messing around, Carl, we have to get these supplies back to the prison." He reminded.

"It wasn't me, dad." I informed.

"Hey over here!" I heard someone yell. I looked up to see a boy in a tree. He looked fairly young. Younger than me that's for sure.
"I need help!" He pleaded.

"What are you doing up there?" Asked my dad.

"I hurt my knee as I ran away from those things. I've been stuck on here for three days." He explained. We glanced at each other. My dad nodded.

I climbed up the tree to examine him up close. He had messy short brown hair and watery hazel eyes.

"Where are you hurt?" I asked. He didn't say anything. He pointed to his left knee that was wrapped around with his gray jacket.
"May I?" I asked lightly tugging on one of the jacket's sleeves. He nodded his head. I remove his jacket to see a wound. I checked it to make sure there was no sign of infection and he appeared to be clean.
"Here." I offered handing him a water bottle. A small smile went on his face as he accepted it with shaky hands.
"Can you climb down?" I asked. He looked down and began to shake. He reminded me of a cat. They enjoy climbing trees yet they're too scared to get down.
"Alright get on my back." I replied. He wrapped his hands around my neck and his legs around my back. I climbed down and looked over to my dad.

"Is he bit? Scratched?"

"No sign. He just has a fresh wound on his knee." I informed.

"So what's your name little guy?" Smiled my dad as we began to walk back.

"Jack." He silently replied.

"Well Jack I'm Rick and this is my son, Carl." He introduced. My dad glanced over to a bag he had.
"What's in the bag?" He asked in a calm tone.

"It was food. But now it's just wrappers." He grimaced emptying the small bag.

"What's in the other bag?" Asked my dad.

"My throwing knives." He smiled holding one up.

"Are you good with them?" I asked.

"I think I have a good aim." He shrugged.

"Ok well let's see if you can get that walker over there." I instructed.

"Walker?" He asked.

"What do you call them?" Asked my dad.

"Infectors." He answered. My dad nodded his head.

I let out a whistle and the walker stopped eating the remains and walked towards us. I got my gun ready just incase Jack were to fail. Jack quickly threw a throwing knife and  the walker collapsed.

"Bullseye!" Jack cheered. My dad and I walked over to it and my dad got the knife out of the walkers head.

"Impressive." He whispered. We walked back to the prison and I went to Hershel to help Jack with his injury.

"Well there's no sign of infection." Hershel started.
"I'm going to apply a disinfectant. It'll prevent infection and quicken the healing process. It will sting a little." He warned.

"Wait!" Jack yelled. Hershel and I looked at him. Jack looked over to me.
"Will you hold my hand?" He whimpered. Letting out a sigh, I did.
"Ok. I'm ready." He prepared himself by taking a deep breath. Hershel sprayed the disinfectant directly to the wound and his grip on my hand got tighter.

"Alright that's it." Smiled Hershel as he wrapped the wound with a bandage.

"T-that's it?" Jack stuttered.

"That's it." I repeated.

"That wasn't so bad." He yawned.

"You're going to have to stay off the leg for a while." Hershel informed. Jack weakly nodded his head as he passed out.

"Jack?" I asked making sure he was ok. Hershel checked his pulse and let out a sigh of relief.

"He fell asleep." He chucked. I carried him into an empty cell and tucked him in. I took his bag of weapons just to make sure he doesn't try anything. I went to the cafeteria to see my dad talking to Daryl.

"How is he?" My dad asked.

"He fell asleep." I replied.

"Did you take his weapons?" Dad asked.

"Right here." I replied holding up his bag.

"Alright. I'll ask him the questions once he wakes up."

"You're letting a little kid be part of our group?" Daryl asked in misbelief.

"You should've seen him. I can tell he knows how to survive this world. I know he'll make a well addition to the group." He answered.