THE WALKING DEAD IMAGINES

trust (carl g.)

The walkers flood Alexandria, lurking in every crack and crevice. And all I can do is watch and let it happen. There's nothing we can do. There's too many of them. Carl grabs my hand and pulls me into the house while my eyes frantically search over the streets for Daryl, my father.

I don't see him. After getting into the house I rush into the living room where most people are gathered and see Rick, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie and my dad. He's sitting on the couch and he appears to be pale.

Everyone looks to me with soft glances and sympathetic expressions. I turn around to Carl who is just as confused as I am. As I approach him I notice a blood stain on his shirt, just in the corner of his waist. My heart sinks at the thought of what it may be. I go numb.

"Dad?" I question, my voice unwavering. "What's wrong?"

He lifts his shirt up ever so slightly to reveal a bite mark. His skin is bright red and irritated. Tears well in my eyes and I kneel down beside him and examine him as he is. He's my father. He's stubborn and hot headed but he does everything for the ones he cares about.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I tried. I did." he rasps. I look at him in confusion and watch as he struggles on his own breath. He doesn't deserve this. This isn't the way he was supposed to go. "I tried to stay alive. And I couldn't. I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for. You did good, dad." I smile. He nods and I watch as a tear escapes his eye but I'm quick to wipe it away.

"You're gon' be okay, yeah?" he asks me.

"Of course. You taught me how to survive, dad. You don't need to worry about me. I'm gonna be just fine. We all will be. Just..just close your eyes. Go to sleep." I tell him softly as I brush a strand of his damp hair away from his face.

With that, he closes his eyes and a few seconds later, his breath ceases to be. My mouth parts slightly in shock and I can't believe that within the span of 5 minutes, I've lost my dad.

With apprehension, I reach into my boot and pull out my knife. I turn around and see Rick with tears streaming down his face. He inches forward towards me and outstretches his hand to me.

"Do you want me..." he trails off. I know what he's referring to. But it can't be him. It has to be me. That's the way it should be.

"No. I got it." I state coldly.

I attempt to calm my shaking hands as the tip of the knife nears my dad's temple. And as I'm about to end this, all of our memories flood my mind. Everything. And it fucking hurts.

"I'm sorry." I whisper before plunging the knife deep into his skull.

My dad is gone.

Ever since that day, I've become completely and utterly broken. Granted, I was a bit broken to begin with but now, I'm just broken. I'm unsure of what to do anymore. Obviously, I'm trying to keep going; that's what my dad would want but it's so hard.

"Y/N?"

I turn my head to see Carl leaning against the railing of the guard tower. I knows he's worried about me; everyone is. Sometimes, I'm worried about me but I remember who I am. I remember everything I've been through and how I didn't let it break me.

"Hey, Carl."

My gaze returns back towards the street and I lay my gun down. It's silent for awhile, neither of us speaking. For the most part, I enjoy the silence. I'm not much of a talker anyway. But other times, it gives me time to remember all that is wrong with my life, all the ones I've lost.

"What's up?" he asks while standing next to me. I sigh and shake my head ever so slightly.

"Not much." I tell him truthfully. I know he's waiting for me to breakdown but I won't. I can't. If I break down now, I'm afraid I won't ever piece myself together again. I'll be permanently broken.

"Can you please talk to me?" he questions.

Reluctantly, I turn to look at him and his expression pains me. It's one of deep concern and I'm obviously the cause of it. I don't want to worry him, that's not my intention but I don't want to talk about my father.

"What do you want me to say? You're not stupid, Carl. I'm pretty sure you know how I feel." I laugh dryly.

My throat runs dry and I choke back tears that have been begging to escape lately. Like I said, I can't break. I've been repeating that to myself ever since the world ended. It's become a mantra— an affirmation of sorts. But I'm not entirely sure that it's helping. If anything, I'm just delaying the inevitable. I know that there will come a day when I do break and fall apart.

I then feel Carl's hand overlap mine and I smile sadly to myself. He's so willing to help me even when I'm continuously pushing him away. I'm giving him every reason to leave me but yet here he is; loving me without hesitation.

"I'm sorry." I apologize, my voice wavering. My gaze shifts to the side where I see Carl looking back at me.

"Don't apologize." he warns.

He says not to apologize but I feel as if I need to. I have to say I'm sorry. After all of the shit I've put him through, I have to say sorry.

"Yes, I do. I've been pushing you away and I promised I would stop doing that. You deserve so much more than what I'm giving you— so for that, I'm sorry."

He flashes a sad smile, one that I've begun growing accustomed to seeing. With a slight nod of my head, I walk straight into his arms, relishing in the familiar and comforting feeling. He holds me tightly— as if I need to be held together.

We sway back and forth, his hand rubbing my back soothingly. His lips then ghost over my ears.

"You'll get through this, Y/N. I know you will. You're strong. This won't break you." he whispers.

"It feels like it will though." I croak, my voice finally breaking, the tears finally making their way down my cheeks and onto Carl's shoulders.

"I know, baby. I know it does. But it won't. Trust me. Do you trust me?"

I nod against his neck and hold onto him tighter.

I trust Carl. He's given me no reason not to trust him. He has saved me— emotionally, physically and mentally, time and time again. He has loved me despite my occasional instability and guarded nature. So, yes, I trust him.