Just Keep Walking

One hundred and sixteen

They managed to drive almost the whole way to Hilltop in silence, Mary curled up in the back of the van, covered in Glenn's jacket, holding Carl Bunny to her chest. She was awake, but silent and motionless, scared and broken.
When they stopped the van, Mary held up her arms, and Michonne picked her up, holding her tightly, kissing the side of her head.
"I can't do it." Mary whimpered, and Michonne kissed her again
"Yeah, you can. Come on, it's okay. I've got you." Michonne soothed, and they began to walk, Mary clinging to her. Carl's hat fell off her head as they walked, and Mary let out a little whimper, making Rick stop and pick it up. He froze as soon as he held the hat in his hands, shaking slightly.
"Daddy?" Mary whispered, and Rick breathed out, then gave it her back, striding away. They reached the gates, and they were opened immediately, letting Rick, Michonne, and Mary through to see most of their group.
Mary got down from Michonne's arms and stared. She was half expecting Carl and Glenn to be there waiting for her, but reality had crushed her dream.
She stood there for a few seconds as Maggie hugged Michonne tightly, and Rick went and found Judith, holding the giggling toddler to his chest.
Daryl looked at Mary with pain in his heart. Her hair was a mess, her skin tan and sunburnt and muddy, her clothes invisible due to Glenn's jacket, her face hidden by Carl's hat.
She looked like a ghost, like a broken little girl.
Daryl strode over and took Mary into his arms, holding her close, soothing her. "Yer okay. Yer gonna be okay."
"I just want Carl!" Mary wailed suddenly, her ripped fingernails gripping into Daryl's arms.
"I know. I know."
"I don't want you! I want Glenn!"
"I know."
"Mary?" Maggie asked gently, hearing her voice. At the proper sight of Maggie, Mary broke down and began to sob, wriggling into her arms, never wanting to let go.
"Everyone's dead." Mary cried, clinging to Maggie, to the familiarity of the woman.
"It's okay. It's gonna be okay." Maggie soothed, shushing her gently. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Mary's tears slowed and she looked up at Hilltop, freezing at one new area.
"What's that?"
"We have some prisoners. They're Saviours, but they can't hurt you, okay?" Maggie began to explained, but Mary caught sight of a familiar face, and she was suddenly running away, over to the man.
"Hey! That's Al! He's a good guy!" Mary shouted to Maggie as she ran, confusing everyone.
"Mary?" The man asked, and she ran to him, her fingers curling around the fencing. It was Al. Alden, the Saviour. Al, who kept her sane during her time at the Sanctuary.
"Al! What are you doing here?"
"This is where I got sent. Are you okay? You got out." He smiled, and Mary nodded, then her smile fell.
"A lot of bad things have happened too."
"Awe, kid. Oh no. The other kid. That was your Carl?"
"Yeah." Mary whispered, and she held Alden's hand through the fence.
"Hey! I'm letting Uncle Al out!"
"How the hell do you know my daughter?" Rick asked Alden gruffly, striding over and pushing Mary behind him, pushing away his shock.
"Woah, woah, man, chill. Negan had me, and I ended up being made to work in the cells. I looked after Mary for a while."
"Daddy, he's nice. He brought me extra food and games. He's one of my favourite people."
"That true?" Rick asked him sharply, and Alden nodded.
"Yeah. I was a worker there. He made me work in the cells. I looked after Mary, gave her her meals and stuff."
Rick nodded slowly, still not trusting the man. He went into the small compound, and grabbed Alden, a gun to his head, then brought him out, the young man pulled against the posts.
"Prove it. Prove it." Rick growled.
"Rick." Michonne whispered, but it made no difference.
"Okay. Alright. She's Mary Grimes. She calls her stepmom Mishy. Her little sister is called Judith. You have a pet dog called Egg because that's her favourite food, and her favourite teddy is called Carl Bunny." Alden rambled nervously.
Rick nodded slowly, and lowered his gun.
"Can he stay?"
"No. Get back in there." Rick said gruffly.
"Daddy, he's a good man. I promise."
"No."
"Daddy! Stop! He's kind. He's like Carl." Mary whimpered, but Rick ignored her, pushing Alden back into the compound. "Daddy."
"Stay with your mom." Rick said simply, before leaving, Mary stood alone, crying shakily.
"Hey, kid." Siddiq said gently, walking over to Mary. Mary looked up at him, then began to sob, wanting him to pick her up, but he didn't; he bent down and hugged her.
"You're my person now. That's what Carl said." Mary whispered, pulling away from his hold. Siddiq stayed crouched down opposite her, listening carefully. "You're my person. You gotta tell me what to do now."
"It's not as easy as that, Mary. Even I don't know what to do."
"Can we just talk?" Mary asked quietly, and Siddiq nodded, his eyes wide and listening.
"What about?"
"Anything. Just not... Not Carl. How old are you?"
"I'm, I think, I think I'm twenty seven."
"I'm six. Today. Did your mommy die?"
"She did." Siddiq nodded slowly.
"And your daddy?"
"He died too."
"My mommy died. I was four. She had Judith, but she was dying. Maggie had to cut her open and pulled Judith out, and then Carl had to shoot mommy so she didn't become a Walker."
"I'm really sorry about that." Siddiq nodded, his eyes soft and understanding.
"I have a different mom now. Mishy. She's been my mom for a while. I love her lots. She's... She's my second favourite alive person, and my fourth favourite person out of everyone."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Was your mommy nice?"
"She was. She was amazing. She was really religious, but so loving, so caring."
"I don't think people are religious anymore. Except for Gabriel, but he's a weirdo and I think he died."
"I'm religious." Siddiq announced calmly.
"Why didn't Jesus save us?" Mary asked, her voice breaking, "Carol used to like religion. So did mommy Lori. And Maggie, she loved God, just like her daddy. But then her daddy died and her sister, and she didn't like God anymore. She didn't believe in him."
"Well, I don't believe in Jesus," Siddiq explained slowly, trying to explain religion in simple terms, "I follow a different religion, called Islam. But... My mommy was very religious, she... She liked our God a lot. We call our God Allah. I used to be super religious when I was little, but now I still believe in it, but not as much. I believe in Allah, but I don't follow all of the rules. Does that make sense?"
"That's like mommy Lori. My dead mommy. She believed in God, but didn't go to church or do any of the praying and stuff."
"Yeah. That's sort of like me." Siddiq nodded.
"What things do Islam believe in?"
Siddiq let out a tiny laugh, smiling softly at Mary's questions and phrasing. "Well, we're called Muslims, for one. And there's six main beliefs. One's that Allah is the only God, and some of the others is that we believe in the Prophets, angels, the Holy Books, the Day of Judgement, and in Predestination. That's means we believe that Allah knows about everything that will happen."
"What do Muslims believe happens to dead people?"
"They get to go to Paradise. It's a place where there's pain, or sickness, or sadness." Siddiq explained gently.
Mary nodded slowly, closing her eyes. She saw Carl and Glenn and Lori all together in a beautiful place, where they weren't in pain or sad. Where Carl wasn't in pain away more, and he wasn't bitten or feverish. Where Glenn's beautiful head was still as it should be, and he was perfectly fine and okay, and never been hurt. Where her mother was looking after Carl, fixing his hair as she always loved to do, and she didn't have a single cut or scar on her body.
"I like that idea. I like that... Siddiq, is Carl there?"
"I believe so. I believe so, Mary," Siddiq whispered emotionally, "but it's okay if you don't. It's up to you, what you believe."
"I want to believe in that. I want to believe that they're somewhere that doesn't have pain and sadness and sickness." Mary nodded, and Siddiq smiled back.
"That's okay too."

"I know you don't want to clean up, but you have to." Michonne sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time.
"Don't care." Mary snapped petulantly, and Michonne signed again.
"I get it. You don't want to wash because that's Carl's blood. That's Carl. But having Carl's blood on you won't keep him with you. So come on. Wash time." Michonne said softly, and Mary sighed, then uncrossed her arms, and let Michonne undress her. Michonne sluiced her down with a sponge and some water, Mary standing in a metal tin, shivering slightly at the icy water. When she washed Mary's hair, she combed through the matted locks with care, making it painless for her daughter.
"All done." Michonne smiled gently once Mary was wrapped in a towel. She rubbed Mary's hair until it was half dry, the brushed it again.
"What do you wanna wear? Got a pair of shorts, two shirts, and your flowery dress."
"Dress." Mary mumbled, and Michonne pushed it over her head.
"Hey, I'm going on look out." Rick announced, walking over.
"Have you eaten? You've not since yesterday. It's midday. You should eat."
"I'm fine. See you soon." Rick said simply, then left, making Mary exhale shakily.
"I don't want him to go."
"I know. I know. I don't either." Michonne said gently.
"I want daddy, or Carl. I want Glenn."
"Me too."
"I'm gonna go find Auntie Rosita." Mary decided, before walking away, Michonne chasing after her.
Mary found Rosita, and cling to her hand tightly. "Hey, chica." Rosita smiled sadly, stroking the back of Mary's hand with her thumb.
"Hey."
"How are you holdin' up?"
"I want Carl." Mary muttered, and Rosita sighed.
"I know you do."
"I want him now."
"I know."
"Stop saying I know! You don't!" Mary screamed suddenly, and Rosita sighed, raising a hand on Michonne's direction, stopping her from coming over.
"I do know." Rosita said softly, bending down to Mary's hight.
"How?"
"You know I had a nephew your age, right?"
"Yeah. You told me a long time ago."
"Yeah. He... You remind me of him. Very much. He had a dad. I had... I had a big family. Two brothers, and a sister. I was the oldest."
"What happened to them?" Mary asked softly.
"My sister... My sister died a few days in. My nephew and his dad, Alan... I don't know. That hurts even more than knowing if he's dead, Mary. Because my brother and his baby might be wondering around as Walkers right now. Or they could be alive but think I'm dead and be hurting over me. They could... My nephew could be alive, but without his dad, his parents. They could be alive and not even think about me anymore. I don't know. I won't ever know. That's painful. So painful. I'll never know."
Mary went quiet, and held Rosita's hand even tighter. "What about your other brother?" She finally asked in a whisper.
"M-my other brother. Oh, Mary. He... He was the most amazing brother. He was my Carl. I was only a year and a half older, and we were best friends. I loved him so much. So, so, so much. He was the only person I ever truly loved that much. And... And when I was fourteen and he was thirteen, he got sick. Very sick. And... I had to watch him be so sick every day for months. Just like how you had to watch Carl be so sick. Every day, Mary. Every day, for months. And finally he died. His... His name was Julius. And I was lost without him. I was lost, and angry, and for a very long time I couldn't be happy. I thought I'd never be happy again. So I do know, Mary. Because it happened to me too."
"Are you happy now? Are you still sad forever?" Mary whispered shakily, "Does it ever go away?"
"No. It doesn't. You'll be sad for a long time. But you find ways to cope. You find ways to pretend you're not sad. And gradually you'll miss him a little less. You'll maybe not miss him at all for a few days, then suddenly you'll realise, and feel guilty, then miss him more than ever. You'll be okay, then suddenly it's a year since he died, or two, or ten. Maybe you haven't cried for six months, then suddenly one day you see a Walker wearing a shirt that your brother owned, and you have a breakdown. Maybe in fifteen years, you'll meet someone called Carl, and you'll not be able to breathe, and you can't get that image out of your head for days. The image of him in pain, sick. The... The sadness doesn't go away, Mary. But you grow around it, and it gets better. It stops hurting so much. One day. One day, it won't hurt as much. But it's still there."