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M E G A N
Alexandria's spirits have been on a steady incline ever since the inconclusive war.
And, unexpectedly, so have mine.
The gruesome events that took place around a week and a half ago, were just what Rick Grimes needed to start leading our people out on the offense. Alexandria now plans to finish everything that the Saviors have started. Once and for all.
Our leader's newfound confidence about this whole thing has made almost everyone feel a lot better about their resentment towards the Saviors. That says a lot, considering just a few weeks ago we were working for them like a pack of dogs.
As an ode to Alexandria's new beginning, I decided it was time to ask about possibly moving in with Aaron and Eric right after the war. The two were more than happy to have me.
It's the only way to rid myself of my house that's continuously found itself empty, time and time again. First, it was the painfully noticeable absence of the Anderson family, then came the stinging silence left after the more recent death of Olivia.
The only other person who's stayed in that house besides me is Judith Grimes. I've had to watch the child nearly every day since Rick's been preoccupied on ventures having to do with the Saviors.
Inheriting the babysitter role from Olivia has been the least of my problems ever since her untimely demise. I've really taken a liking to the small child.
Before, I'd never really gotten the chance to spend time with her, as a newborn baby. They say it takes a village to raise one, and that little girl sure has one hell of a list of people who love to take care of her. It was only a few weeks ago that I got the chance to become one of them.
Ever since Rick's been missing in action, and Michonne's been on the road to her recovery, the little girl has quickly trickled down her list of eligible babysitters. This led her straight to me.
And I don't mind. In fact, what I actually do mind, in this moment, is having absolutely nothing to do.
After spending my morning unpacking, checking up on Michonne, and going without seeing Carl or Judith, I am bored out of my mind. My freshly dusted room sits as still as ever, as I lie down on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
My ears perk up when the slam of the front door thuds throughout the house.
As I'd made the ultimate move—of simply carrying a few boxes of my things a few houses down the street—to get away from an empty house, that's all I've been faced with lately. Much to each other's opposition, Aaron and Eric have spent more time embarking on the journey of the war, than safe at home. As if I've even lived here long enough to call it a home.
"Aaron?" My bed frame gently squeaks and the mattress dips down, as I slowly sit up. "Eric?"
I'm left in a silence that quickly closes in after the echoing sound of my voice. My feet patter against the wooden floor as I stand from the bed. The sound of approaching footsteps soon breaks the silence, as they make their way towards my open bedroom door.
"Nope." Carl says, appearing just beyond my doorway. "It's just us."
The boy walks in, holding Judith on one hip and a cardboard box in the other. He shifts his sister around in his grip. "I'm just stopping by to drop off these."
Because nearly every day's been a matter of life and death ever since we met, I've never gotten the chance to pay attention to the pair standing in front of me. The last I recall, is that the boy held a resentment for his baby sister, out of blame for his mothers death.
But now, as I look at the happy siblings standing before me, I realize that I've always craved such a wholesome scene. A family of my own. Maybe not soon, maybe not in this world, but some day. And as of now, I'm just glad that—despite the circumstances of how our little family came to be—I have a Judith and Carl of my own.
"I'll gladly take this off of your hands." A smile makes its way across my face as I gently pluck the toddler out of his grip. Her little legs kick about and her chubby arms reach out towards me as I bring her into my grip. "How're you doing today, honey?"
"Well, now that you've asked, I—"
"Carl," I laugh. "I was talking to your sister."
The sheepish ghost of a smile makes its way across the boy's face. "Oh,"
My eyes meet his just before I bounce Judith on my hip and reach my lips up to briefly meet the skin of his cheek. I motion to the box that he uses one arm to balance on his hip. "What's that?"
"You forgot this at the other house," He starts. "And I came by to bring it to you."
I smile, before placing another lingering kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Carl. You can just put it on the bed."
Once he walks passed me, heading towards my bed, I grab Judith's chubby wrist and wave it around a little, as I choose to wait until I'm out of Carl's eyeshot to begin playing around with the bashful child.
"You're really good with her, you know?" He mutters from across the room.
I tear my eyes away from the baby to see her older brother leaning against my bed, right next to the box of my things. His eye remains locked on the two of us, as I'd clearly been distracted with her for more than a few moments. A smirk rests across surface of his pink lips.
I roll my eyes. "Is that all you came here for? To drop off my stuff?"
"No, I need you to do me a favor." Carl sucks in a breath. "Can you keep an eye on Judith until I get back?"
"Why, of course!" I speak to the small child, as I gently tickle her tummy. "Why would I want to keep her from spending the day with her fun Aunt Megan?"
"Aunt Megan?"
"Yes, Aunt Megan." I attempt to pull my lips into a tight, straight line, but the smirk that tugs on them is just a bit stronger than my desire to act stern. "You got a problem with that?"
"I guess not." He raises his hands in defense, emitting a small chuckle.
I playfully roll my eyes. "So why can't you watch her? Are you going out again today?"
"Yeah," Carl sighs. The next words fumble around on the tip of his hesitant tongue. "You know that guy that my dad and I saw yesterday?"
"At the gas station?" My eyebrows furrow.
The boy nods. "I just—I can't stop thinking about him."
"Carl," I sigh. "Don't tell me that you're thinking about going back there."
"No—No," The boy shakes his head before dropping his guilty eye down to his fingers, which nervously fiddle around in his lap. "It was just bothering me. I needed to get it off of my chest."
My feet stride themselves across the floor, a babbling Judith still balancing on my hip.
I place a sympathetic hand on the side of the boy's shoulder, rubbing my thumb back and forth over the fabric of his flannel. "You have too big a heart, Carl. He probably just got disoriented when the war happened and h—"
"We don't know that he's a Savior, Megan." The boy shakes his head. "At least as of now."
Carl's word choice makes me re-question his motives about this strange that man he speaks of. Part of me doesn't believe that this is something that he simply wants to get off of his conscience. It's something deeper—something that's actively bothering him. And I've known Carl long enough to know that he's stubborn enough to do whatever it takes to appease himself.
"Well, what we do know is that he's a stranger. And strangers are dangerous." I suck in a breath, removing my hand from his shoulder and adjusting the baby in my grip. My hand gently fixes her wrinkled clothing, as I keep my focus on her, as opposed to the glare coming from her older brother. "Isn't that right, Judith? Stranger danger. Stranger dang—"
My eyes meet Carl's stern one, before I realize that he's not laughing along with his giggling sister and me.
"Carl, sweetheart," I begin to bargain with the stubborn boy. "He isn't your problem. Some people don't need saving."
"This one sure seemed like it." He scoffs. "I mean—he was covered, head-to-toe, in dirt. He just looked like—like it was weird to see another human standing in front of him, you know?"
"I know, Carl, but—"
"No Megan—I don't think you do." He shakes his head. "You didn't see him."
"You know what, Carl?" I tighten my lips. "I'm glad that I didn't. And I'm glad that I'm here to stop you from doing something stupid."
Carl stands from the bed, not daring to meet my eyes before heading towards my bedroom door.
"Carl," I groan.
The boy continues to ignore me, before I reach out and grab at his elbow. I fumble Judith around in my grip as my feet try to catch up to him. "Where are you going?"
He stops—a result of my haphazard grip on his upper arm. "I'm supposed to go to the junkyard with my dad."
"The junkyard?" My eyebrows furrow. "I don't want you going anywhere near those p—"
Carl looks over his shoulder, and unamused look over the bandageless part of his face. "Just stay here and watch Judith. I'll be back."
We hold our tense glance for a few more moments, before I finally surrender, softening my expression and releasing his arm.
The boy takes no time before heading towards my open bedroom door. But just before he can make his way out, he stops in his tracks, almost as if he's too busy hesitating. Somewhat of an internal battle keeps Carl at a halt, in the doorway, for a few more moments before he shakes his head and turns on his heel.
The disheveled teen standing before me, angrily storms back over to me. Carl quickly places a rough kiss on my forehead, before turning back around and storming out of the bedroom, followed by the sound of a haphazard slam.
Nearly dumbfounded, I turn back to an unaware Judith as she still sits on my hip.
"Oh, he'll be back." I suspiciously raise an eyebrow and playfully bounce the girl around a bit, before tickling her tummy. "Isn't that right, Jude?"
The little girl within my grasp chuckles a bit. One of her well-earned, high-pitched giggles that makes just about anyone feel accomplished. The charming little girl has even had that effect on the heartless bastard who came to Alexandria and waved her around moments before killing two of our own people.
"Oh you like that little nickname? Huh, Jude?" I tease the child, her sparkly brown eyes never leaving my own. In response, the child emits another beaming chuckle.
"Now," I playfully bounce her around on my hip. "What are we going to do until your brother gets back?"
☆
"Come on, Jude." I sigh, adjusting my grip on the spoonful of peas that dangles between my fingers. "Repeat after me: Aunt Megan."
The babbling toddler says nothing, but continues to clap her chubby hands at me. Her big eyes gawk at me, across the plastic table of her high-chair. Well, she stares more-so at the loaded spoon that I hold out in front of her.
I'd relocated the two of us from my empty house, to yet another one: the Grimes household. We sit in their ghost town of a kitchen, out of nothing but my desperation to get the child some easy-chew food. That of which, Aaron and Eric clearly lack.
"Okay, fine." I roll my eyes, hesitantly allowing the child the spoonful of peas. The same bite of food that I'd been selfishly trying to use as some sort of bribe, in exchange for her first coherent words being my own name.
The girl quickly slurps the peas off of the spoon, smacking her lips as she slowly turns them into a green mush. A smile makes its way across my lips at the simple sight.
It's been hard to admit to myself, but maybe I have been using Judith as a bit of a distraction from the world around me. I'd been living in such a constant state of doom in the days leading up to the war. It was only a day or two after everything happened that I'd realized keeping those feelings around was no way to carry on.
It may not be the most conventional way of dealing with my feelings—my bad feelings—about all of this. But my old self never would've been okay with Carl going on these runs with Rick. Not to the gas station and especially not to the junkyard.
"Does that taste good?" My embarrassingly annoying baby voice quietly echoes into the empty house. I shove the spoon back into the half-empty bowl that sits atop the small high-chair table in front of me. "Do you want some m—"
The front door to the Grimes household rapidly creaking open cuts through my playful words. Almost immediately after the disruption, it slams shut. The thudding of hasty footsteps echoes down the hall, just before the distant bathroom door also slams shut.
I release my grip on the empty spoon, letting it clink into the bowl of peas. Haphazardly turning my head towards the child, I narrow my eyes at her, wanting to investigate the strange noises. "Hold on, Jude."
After making sure the toddler is still secure in her high-chair, I stand from the stiff, wooden kitchen chair. My back slightly aches due to the amount of time I'd spent sitting across from Judith.
My socks swiftly drag along the floor, as to not create any noise while I silently make my way toward the front door. No sign of anyone in particular is prominent in the empty hallway.
The only odd thing about the scene is the scattered trail of red, wet blood droplets that stretch from their fresh stains on the small entry rug, all the way towards the closed bathroom door. The same door that conceals the identity of whomever is rapidly shuffling around behind it.
My eyebrows furrow as my feet walk alongside the trail, and slowly approach the closed door. "Hello?"
"Megan?" The shuffling stops just before Carl's muffled, disappointed voice echoes out. "What are you doing here?"
"I needed to grab some food for Judith." I blurt out, my eyes not leaving the droplets of blood illuminated by the light that bleeds out from underneath the bathroom door. "What about you?—Are you okay in there?"
"Everything will be fine, Megan." He haphazardly growls. "Just go away. I'll uh—I'll be out in a minute."
Rolling my eyes, a sigh makes its way from between my lips.
For a few seconds, my body aims to say something, but it doesn't. It's almost as if my learned reflex of automatically firing back at the stubborn boy has completely vanished. A result of everything I've allowed myself to dismiss this past week and a half.
As I think about why I choose to brush off Carl's attitude, my mind wanders to everything that's been making my life easier. And it drifts right back to the one thing that I'd forgotten about amidst all of my confusion: Judith Grimes.
Reluctantly, I turn away from the door and shrink back into the kitchen.
The child sits contently in the same spot in her high-chair. Her gleaming eyes trace my every move as I approach her. Once I sit down in front of her, I allow myself to just look at the darling little girl sitting in front of me.
Judith's face is one that I often find comfort in, similar to the way that I find a very different kind of comfort when I see her older brother. But when Carl is the one causing my confusion, she is what pulls me back down to earth.
After not being able to handle it for much longer, I reach over and take her from her chair.
I slowly settle the small child into my lap. "Hey, Jude."
The little girl once again babbles at her new nickname that is put on display by my playful voice. My entire face lifts, as a smile of realization unravels itself across my lips.
"I think I have an idea."
☆
Music is just another thing that has come to be forgotten by this world.
And it's been a long time since I've heard a real song. A very long time.
In fact, it's been even longer since I've heard a song from my childhood. One that brings back fond memories proceeding the death of my mother, which happened way before the death of nearly everything else in this world.
If I really wanted to, I could easily find a way to hear the almost foreign sound within the walls of Alexandria, but it would leave me without many options. It's silly to think about it, really—picking out music. Especially since we have much worse problems to deal with.
The only way to listen to the music from before—the specific songs that a person holds closely to their heart—is to simply sing it. This is something I've never mustered up the courage to do, leaving music as an afterthought confined to the tight space of my mind.
But, taking a page out of my old friend Beth Greene's book, I found myself singing in the presence of little Judith Grimes. Jude.
The comforting presence of a baby is something not many people would be hesitant to sing in. I mean, the child doesn't yet know, let alone remember any songs. She'd never know if the lyrics were wrong, or even if my timing was off. A small child, at this age, is almost impossible to be embarrassed in front of.
And as I sit on the couch with Judith propped on my lap, I've chosen to leave my embarrassment in the not-so-distant past.
The lock of the bathroom door clicks from the end of the hallway, startling me, as I'd nearly forgotten that Carl has been in there taking a shower.
My embarrassment soon makes its way back to me, as I realize the circumstance as to why I'd been left alone with his sister for so long.
The boy'd harshly told me to go away, just a little over a half-hour ago.
Although I'm comfortable enough with Carl to know when to dismiss his bad moods, this time it just feels a little different. Like it wasn't just a mood to the boy, it was more of a change. I mean, the boy's tone has been nothing but kind to me for so long, I'd somehow forgotten how menacing he used to treat me.
Dread fills my presence when Carl, himself, steps out of the darkness of the hallway and out into his own living room.
Beads of water cling to the curled ends of his long hair. A fresh, clean change of clothes along with a new bandage cling to his supple skin. His hat sits atop his damp hair, slightly frustrating me as I always tell the boy that it makes his hair dirty. And I would tell him again if it weren't for his new, abrasive attitude of the day.
Except, the look on Carl's face is anything but abrasive as he stares down at me and Judith.
The ghost of a nervous smile involuntarily crosses his face. His entire demeanor softens as he shakes his head and lets out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Megan."
"For what?" I tease with a scoff, pulling my eyes away from the boy standing across the living room.
Carl says nothing.
Instead, his footsteps gently sound out against the wooden floor, just moments before the couch cushion sinks in next to me. As a result of the new weight on the cushion, my body slightly dips into his, instantly warming up my side. I choose to ignore his heat that my body almost yearns to lean into.
I keep my head turned towards his sister on the other side of my lap, not acknowledging the arm that he gently places around my shoulders. "You never answered my question."
"You know exactly why I'm sorry." The boy chuckles.
"I don't think that I do." I sarcastically sigh. "Maybe it'd clear things up if you just said it."
"Okay, fine." Carl shifts around, causing my body to slightly bounce with the movement of the cushion.
He lowers his arm from around my shoulders, and sneaks it behind my lower waist. The boy then uses his other hand to reach up and gently turn my stubborn face towards his.
Carl's face waits for my eyes to meet his own, with an anticipatory smirk. After a few tense moments, his face softens. "Megan, I'm sorry. Okay?"
I tighten my lips, saying nothing, as I stare into his eagerly apologetic blue eye. Amidst his words, I allow the skin of my cheek to soak in the gentle touch of his palm.
"I've been such an ass to you, all day long." He starts, slightly shaking his head. "And I had no reason to be."
His sincere apology paired with the vulnerable look on his face makes both my voice and my breath hitch in my throat, just for a few moments. And although he'll clearly be forgiven, I still long to see more of this side of Carl Grimes.
"And why's that?" I tease, with a smirk.
A smile spreads across his anticipatory expression, and his face leans a bit closer to mine, resulting in the side of my body being pressed farther into his front. "Because you're nothing but good to me, a—and you deserve so much more than I could ever—than I c—"
The boy fumbles with his words, before just letting them come to a complete stop.
In just a few moments, Carl has gone from showcasing an endearing smile to being hardened by the look of something different. Something of a saddening frustration radiates from him, an expression that I can't quite pinpoint.
He tightens his lips into a line. "It's just—I shouldn't have pushed you away. And I'm sorry. I mean, that's the last thing that I want right now."
My eyebrows furrow. "Why only right now?"
"I—I, um," Carl's lips remain parted, as they try to force words to come from between them. Nothing comes out, other than a few short breaths.
Watching the boy struggle to form a response, I take note that I simply understand what he's trying to say, and, for now, that's all that matters. My lips tighten and my face softens as I let out a smile.
"Forget it." I mutter, shaking my head back and forth. "It doesn't matter, anymore. I'm not mad."
"You're not?" His face softens as the corners of his lips start to rise.
I shake my head, my cheek moving around underneath the frail grasp of his palm. "We don't have nearly enough time to stay mad about these kinds of things."
"Wh—" He nervously chuckles, trying not to let his smile drop underneath the gravity of whatever he's holding back. "What makes you say that?"
I let out a loose laugh. "Because if we did have enough time, you'd still be apologizing for every time you pissed me off back at the prison. Or on the road. Or for the time we got in that fight. Or even for that one time y—"
"Okay," He laughs, taking in a long breath. "I get it."
The two of us laugh a little at his statement, further sinking into each other's touch.
Carl removes his hand from my cheek, using it to remove his hat and place it on the cushion behind him. When he returns his hand to my face, he lowers his forehead onto mine, just as our laughter begins to fizzle out.
"I am sorry. For all of it." The boy mutters, using a more serious tone about himself. "Every time I was ever mean to you, or got you in trouble, or put you in danger. I just—I wish there was a way I could take it all back."
"I would never change any of it. And I wouldn't expect you to take any of it back." My eyes drop down to his vulnerable lips that sit just an inch or so away from my own. The corners of my lips tug into a mischievous smirk. "But I think there is something you could do to make it better."
My voice fades out as the tenseness in the air consumes us, and we begin to lean in towards one another. After taking their time, our curious lips slowly threaten to clash against one another.
The moment comes to a premature end when Judith suddenly squirms and babbles within my grasp, making her presence known. Carl and I'd clearly forgotten about the little one's presence during our consuming moment.
"Right," I sigh, pulling my focus towards the toddler in my lap. "You want to show your brother what we learned today?"
In a short response from the girl, she smiles, having pretty much no idea what I'm asking.
My body slightly jolts as I shift a squirming Judith around in my grip, resulting in an accidental elbow to Carl's side. The boy tries to stifle his obvious grunt, and to keep his whole body from flinching from the slight brush of impact. "Are you okay?"
"Uh—yeah, yeah." Carl brushes of my question and suddenly leans himself away from my side. He gently removes his hands from around me, in order to lean his elbows on his knees. The boy tilts his head in order to talk to Judith. "So, what did you two learn?"
"Oh, you'll see." I reply with a mischievous smirk.
Hoisting the toddler onto my waist, I stand from the sofa. Once we're balanced, I begin slowly rocking around, offering the girl a slight bounce, as to stall before I do what I'm about to do. Judith keeps her stare on me, as I raise my eyebrows and nod my head towards her.
"Hey Jude," I start, mustering whatever I can of a monotone sing-song voice. My words remain slow, as to allow the girl an attempt at singing along, which really just sounds like more of the child's incoherent babbling. "Don't make it bad."
Although slightly humiliating, I take a quick glance over at Carl, as to gage what he could possibly be thinking about what's happening in front of him.
"Take a sad song," The girl and I continue to mumble along, her noises nearly drowning out the volume of my slow voice and the over-enunciated lyrics. "And make it better."
Unexpectedly, Carl doesn't laugh at me, like I'd assumed he would.
Instead, a foreign demeanor consumes him, as he tilts his head to look up at the two of us. His eye follows our every slow move as I continue to gently rock his sister around. Carl stares at us with a sentimental gaze, almost as if he's in admiration of the nonsense taking place in his own living room.
"Remember," I quickly look away from a distracted Carl, and nod my head along as Judith slowly tries to sing the syllables. Returning my gaze back to her older brother, I shift Judith around before extending a hand out to him. "To let her into your heart."
With a sigh, the boy sarcastically rolls his eye and stands to his feet, taking my hand.
"Then you can start," The child and I continue to nod along, as I ease the both of us into Carl's embrace. He stands behind us, wrapping one arm around my waist and placing his other palm on the small surface of Judith's upper back.
"To make it better." I raise my eyebrows at the little girl balancing on my hip, as we finish whatever off-beat rendition of the old song I'd previously taught to her.
"Good job, Jude!" I slightly turn around, making the girl and I face more towards a Carl. My eyes trail upward from his sister, to his face that waits for my gaze with a satisfied smirk, as if to—without words—ask what he thinks.
"You didn't need to show me." The boy softly chuckles, his voice ringing out just above my ear. "I could hear you two singing all the way from the bathroom."
A playful gasp emits from between my lips, as I slightly step away from Carl's arms. I aimlessly shove at his torso with my free hand, causing the boy to once again attempt to stifle a wince from a sudden burst of pain. Pain that should not be caused by such a gentle shove.
I furrow my eyebrows as the lingering smile is suddenly wiped from my face. "Okay, what is up with you?"
"Nothing. I was just messing around." Carl sighs. "T—to make Judith laugh. She likes it when I get hurt." He motions to the child trapped within my stubbornly suspicious arms.
My eyes squint at the boy's excuse, as my mind contemplates his words. But, before I can come to a conclusion, his baby sister giggles. A delightful sound that pulls away at whatever attention I was paying to Carl.
"See, Jude." The boy steps closer, taking us back into his arms, as I'd forgotten about the complication. He places a slow kiss on my temple, before using his fingers to tickle at Judith's stomach. "Tell your Aunt Megan that it was all just a joke."
The little girl giggles. "Meg—"
Both Carl and I gasp at the girl's first word—well, syllable. My intake of breath sounds out more-so than that of her surprised brother's. "What was that Jude?"
The child laughs at the suddenness of our surprised reactions. "M—Meg."
"Is this your Aunt Meg?" Carl asks the child, as he raises his eyebrows and haphazardly points to me.
"Meg." The girl nods her head up and down in an exaggerated, child-like manner.
I slightly gasp, the smile not being able to leave my expression. My eyes take no time before gleaming up at Carl, who seems almost fully consumed in the endearing moment. "I'm Aunt Meg."
"I really am fun Aunt Meg!" I repeat. "I bet I'll be her favorite when she's all grown up."
Something—I don't know what—detaches the boy from the happy moment, as he struggles to maintain the fading smile on his face. But, as the boy's blue eye meets my own eager ones, his gratified demeanor slowly returns.
Carl cranes his neck, allowing me one excitedly gentle peck on his lips. "There's no doubt about it."
☆
"Why are w—"
"Shh."
"But, can't we j—"
"Megan." Carl sighs, looking at me over his shoulder. "I'll explain after we get inside."
It's been several moments since we first arrived at the back door of the old Anderson house that I'd just moved out of just a few days ago. But now I've returned alongside the boy—who basically dragged me here—instead of turning in to my new house for the remainder of the night.
The boy turns back around, continuing to fumble with the ring of keys that he'd managed to slip from Rick and Michonne's bedroom. And due to the amount of keys on his father's chain, Carl's been cycling through them, not being quite certain of the ones he's already tried.
"Did you find the right key yet?" The low volume of my voice allows me to get a full sentence out, without Carl immediately interrupting.
He stops fumbling around with the doorknob long enough to let out an exasperated sigh. "If I had the right key, don't you think I would've used it by now?"
"Smart-ass." I mutter under my breath.
The boy slowly stands tall, from his hunched over position, turning around to face me. "What?"
"Nothing." I smile playfully, averting my eyes from a squinting Carl. The boy goes right back to testing out the numerous keys within his grasp.
Through the careless aim of my wandering eyes, I begin to study the backside of the house. More importantly, I remember something about the small light fixture next to the door. The light that has yet to be turned on, leaving the mischievous boy and I in the dark.
"Out of the way, Grimes." I nudge at his elbow.
Carl sucks in a breath and steps away from the door, allowing me a chance to reach up to the old porch light. My hand pats around on the dusty, dirty, surface of the switched-off light. It doesn't take long before the tips of my fingers find the piece of small, dusted-over metal that the Andersons used to keep there.
The boy tries to hide his impressed smile as I shoot him a look from underneath my playfully raised eyebrows. My hand slides the key into the lock, and with one turn, the doorknob clicks open.
"After you." I motion to Carl.
He playfully rolls his eye, walking through the open door in front of me. I allow the door to gently close behind us, as we make our way into the kitchen. The key clinks against the countertop after I haphazardly toss it onto the surface.
The boy looks around the inside of the dark house, standing at the edge of the kitchen. I wait until his wandering eye meets mine, before tilting my head to the side. "So now are you going to tell me why we're here?"
Carl smiles to me, saying nothing at first. His eye then begins to glance around the house, once again. "Do you remember what life was like the first time you ever stepped foot in this house?"
The boy's thought-provoking words catch me off guard. I shrug. "I never really let myself think about it too much."
"Why not?"
Folding my lips in, I suck in a breath. "Because then I'd start to think about everything that happened after we got here. All the people that used to live here—the people that we've lost."
"Is that why you moved in with Aaron and Eric? So you won't be reminded of them anymore?" The boy turns from his gaze at our dark surroundings, towards me.
My eyes drop to the ground as I let out a small nod.
Once Carl sees my shrinking demeanor, he takes carefully slow steps towards me. The boy trails his fingertips down my forearm before taking both of my hands into his own. "What stops you from thinking about the people that you've lost?"
I don't answer. My body won't let me. It's like the kitchen tile beneath our feet is what my eyes are involuntarily glued to, as the boy's question echoes through my empty mind.
Carl squeezes my hands within his, a gentle gesture that pulls my focus away from the floor. "Look at me."
It takes one flick of my eyelids before my eyes land on the boy's soothing face. Every detail—every familiar freckle—reminds me of everything good in this world. His features make me feel something that's just quite the opposite of the turmoil that his words are putting me through.
"It just—" I breathe out, lost in every detail of the boy's concerned face. But, as I remember the question I'm faced with, I'm pulled back down to a daunting reality. "It just hurts to much to think about."
Carl tightens his lips for a moment, staring down at me with an enlightened look on his face. The two of us continue to stand in the dark kitchen, lost in tense thought.
I squeeze onto the boy's warming hands. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I think of them—all of the time." He slightly shakes his head. "And remembering them is how we keep them around, even after they're gone."
My eyes, without hesitation, drop down to the ground.
Carl's words are right. And although they're profound—and mean something detrimental in the circumstances of this world—they also open the floodgates for the amount of guilt I've been carrying around. My guilt that worsens itself, exponentially, with every passing second that the concept flies around in my brain.
Ron, Glenn, Denise, Beth, Hershel—maybe even my own mother—I've forced myself to forget. And in my childish way of coping, I'd never considered how my loved ones would feel. What they'd think of it, if they knew that I don't allow them to be remembered.
Come to think of it, I wouldn't want my loved ones to forget about me, come my probable early demise. Especially Carl Grimes.
Amidst my few moments of overwhelmed thinking, I fail to notice a warm tear cascading down my cheek. That is, until I lift my stinging eyes from their stare on the ground, up to the boy who awaits my mixed emotions. "Why are we even talking about this?"
"Because, I—" Carl starts. "I—um," The boy's parted lips continue to sputter clusters of fragmented words. A complete rendition of his full thought is nowhere to be heard. "I just thought that you should know—"
"Well, I know now." I start, stopping the boy in his tracks, before he can rub it in any farther. "And I'm aware of it."
"No, Meg—"
"Carl, please," I sigh out, my watering eyes reaching out in desperation to the boy. "I can't keep talking about this."
"But, Megan, I—"
"Just promise me, Carl." I shake my head. "Promise that if—when I go, that you won't act like me. That you won't forget all about me."
"Megan, I—" The boy sucks in a heavy breath, dwelling heavily on the words that dance around the tip of his tongue. "I could never forget you. No matter what."
"Starting now, Carl—even that I'm alive," My lip quivers. "That you'll remember me. That you'll remember what it'd do to me if something bad were to happen to you."
Carl stares down at me, a blank look on his face. His face that suddenly lacks its proper, vibrant coloring, leaving a pale mask over his expression. It may just be the dark—or that his body feels the same gut-wrenching feeling from my words as mine does his.
"Promise that you'll stop going out there, every day, risking your life just for a chance at killing Negan." I sigh and shake my head, before dropping my eyes down to our hands the continue to clutch on to each other. "That you won't go chasing after some stranger who made you feel a little guilty."
The necessity in my voice and the boy's own speechlessness are what stop Carl from cutting through my sorrowful words, as they continue to keep pouring from my mouth. "Because I'd never forget you, either. And if something happened to you, I would never forget it—or you." My voice unintentionally softens to a cracking whisper. "No matter how hard I could ever try, I'd always remember. I'd always carry tha—that pain."
My demeanor takes nothing but a few moments to completely crumble after I finalize my words. Before having enough time to think, the boy releases my hands and allows me to melt into his chest. "Promise me." I mutter.
"O—okay, I promise." Carl quickly says, his urgency being a result of my oncoming tears. The boy sighs into my hair. "Starting now."
"I just—I don't know what I'd do if you go outside the walls one day and never come back." I tighten my lips, using my fist to clutch onto the bunched-up fabric of the boy's flannel. "I try not to let myself think about it. But I do. I always do. And I don't want to feel that kind of hurt, ever."
Carl shifts me around in his grip, careful to keep my body from rubbing too harshly against his torso. "Look at me."
My wet eyes one again glance up at the boy, only to be met by his foreignly serious demeanor. "I'd never want you to hurt like that, okay? Not over me."
"Wh—" My eyebrows furrow.
"I'd only want you to remember me." He continues on. "But I would never expect you to just—not move on. To carry any of that pain around with you."
"Carl, I—"
"No," He cuts through my words. "Now it's time for you to promise me. Swear, that if anything ever happens to me, you'll keep going. You'll live your life—maybe even find someone el—"
"Not possible." I tighten my lips, chuckling a bit, through the boy's strictly hypothetical words.
The boy sighs, looking down at me. His bangs brush against my forehead, as he lowers his face towards mine. "Please, just promise me this one thing."
"Fine, I promise." I pull together a smile underneath the saltiness of my drying tears. "But only because whatever kills you, it will have to get through me first."
Carl finally leans his forehead against mine, his breath blowing across the skin of my cheek. The two of us take a few moments to simmer down from the tense ambience. "Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you?"
I chuckle under my breath. "It's not luck."
"Then what is it?" Carl hums.
"I don't know." I shrug, feeling the boy's hands drift form their hold on my shoulders, down to my elbows. "But whatever it is—whatever reason that I'm standing here with you, right now—it took a lot more than just luck to get our two stubborn asses together."
After my words, Carl gently removes his forehead from my own, gently trailing his hand up my arm, until his warming palm lands on my jaw.
A twitch of a smile flashes itself on Carl's pink lips for just a sliver of a moment. His lips that I continue to keep my gaze on. "Together?"
"Yeah, Carl." I sigh, finally ready to come to verbal terms with whatever it is that the boy and I have between us. A relief washes over me, as I let out a sigh. "Together. Me and you."
Silence takes over the two of us. But nothing about the looks in our eyes is quiet. Every glance from the boy's blue eye that is aimed directly at my puffy lips does not go unnoticed. Neither does my obvious stare at his.
Carl's thumb leaves the skin of my cheek, and slowly drags its fingertip over the surface of my gaping bottom lip. Painfully slowly. The simple action makes me crave something of a much deeper level than what has been initially running through my mind.
The boy keeps his eye intently on mine as I nearly forget how to breathe. My lower lip feels nearly numb under his touch, flares of tingles shooting across the comforted patch of skin. The skin that longs to dive deeper into the trance that Carl Grimes has me under.
Once his thumb makes it through the rest of its taunting way across the skin, my lips are left completely cold and accessible.
My body gravitates towards the radiating warmth that Carl has to offer. My selfishness needing to explore every last inch of the boy looking down at me. An unnoticed magnetism is the best way to describe it, the sensation that pulls me closer to him.
With the dip of his head, and crane of my neck, our lips brush against each other. One deep kiss to solidify all of our heavy feelings that can never be put into words.
For a second, my bottom lip stays behind, entrapped between Carl's. All the while, my head tilts itself once again, to fully reconnect the two. The slow desperation in our movements leaves nothing else of much importance. Our mouths soak in every moment of the pleasant friction.
A kiss with Carl Grimes is the only kind of kiss I've ever known. But, boy, is this one different.
This one, in particular, feels as if it's a moment frozen in time. A moment that we only wish could last forever. A feeling so rare and so fragile that the two of us cling tightly onto it, out of the possibility of never getting to have it—to feel something like it ever again.
My hands slowly work their way up from the boy's waist to being pressed softly against the surface of his chest. Carl sinks into my movement, allowing his other hand to rise to meet the skin of my other cheek. My face is cradled within his palms, that move according to the placement of my jaw.
Another slow, deepening movement ensues between us, allowing the tip of the boy's tongue to effortlessly guide itself across my lower lip. My fingers unintentionally curl, causing the fabric of the boy's flannel to scrunch at the front.
Our grips on each other slowly get tighter, as we sink into each isolated movement of the heavily slow kiss.
The boy begins to slowly walk the two of us backwards, as the backs of my thighs come in contact with the edge of the kitchen table. His hands trail from my cheeks, down to my hips, before he hoists me upward, leaving me sitting on the surface of the wood.
In the same motion, I widen my legs, allowing Carl a presence between them. The boy takes advantage, deepening the kiss once again as he inches closer and slides his comforting hands up the back of my shirt. Carl's fingers gently squeeze at the skin of my back, with every movement that my lips make against his.
My hands trail themselves upward from his chest, to the first of the long row of buttons on his flannel.
Once the boy feels my fingers blindly fumbling around with the fabric of his flannel, he quickly removes one hand from the back of my shirt and uses it to gently pull my wrist away. Carl slowly detaches his lips from mine, leaving them hovering only an inch or so away. "I—um,"
"What? What is it?" My flustered brain moves a mile a minute, after being torn from the distraction sitting between my legs.
"Can I leave it on?" Carl asks. His eye quickly catches onto the confused look on my face. "My shirt?"
"Y—yeah," I subtly shake my head in confusion. "Why? Was I moving too f—"
The boy doesn't give me time to speak before dipping his head down and kissing me all over again. His lips then place slow kisses along my jaw, and then down my neck, which ultimately trail back up towards my ear. "We can go as fast as you'd like."
His whisper sends a sensation shooting down from my ear, to the back of my tingling neck. The boy's grip on my wrist gently tightens as I reach up to hold his face. My fingers stretch underneath his soft hair, as they tangle themselves about.
Greedily, I pull his lips from their position at my ear, so that I can embrace them with my own. Carl instantly leans into this new motion, hovering over me so that he presses himself harder into my aching body.
The two of us seemingly become one over the edge of the kitchen table, leaning into each other as if there is still even enough space to do so.
The boy places the grip of both of his hands on my upper back, gently lowering me so that I lean back more on the wooden surface. My hands detach themselves from Carl's cheeks, as I lean on my elbows, still maintaining the slow speed of our unbreakable kiss.
He bends over, accordingly, his body still molding to my own. Carl uses our proximity to slowly rock himself against me, feeding into my every urge. A soft groan emits from my hungry lips that continue to lazily drag themselves against Carl's, out of my slight burst of pleasure.
The boy's body offers me another rocking motion, one that is harder and longer-lasting. One that drives my sensations farther beyond the point of return. Out of my body's lack of capability to contain itself, I shift around, involuntarily scooting my elbows farther back along the table.
Something on the empty table brushes against my arm. That is until I remember, that the table isn't completely empty. And it hasn't been empty since the one night I was forced to clean hardened spaghetti and bread rolls from the kitchen table, leaving the one item that'd been used to taunt me, as I couldn't stand to look at it.
The item that sits just behind my arm, as the boy and I continue to advance ourselves more and more towards the point of its necessity.
"Mm," I slowly break out of the kiss. The heat between us still thrashing just below our waists.
Carl's eyebrows furrow in confusion, as he hovers a bit upward to gather a better view of my expression.
Shifting all of my weight to one elbow, I use the other to nudge the item along the surface of the table, putting it within reach of my palm. Blindly, my hand finds the item and lifts it into the dim illumination of the moonlight, as well as Carl's eyesight.
The corner of his lips slightly raise at the sight of the one item that we both nervously gawk at.
A small, blue box.
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8545 words
A/N
First and foremost: MEGAN KNOWS SIGN LANGUAGE
so unless you've read all of this book in the past few days, you probably haven't seen the small detail I changed in chapter 13 !! BUT JUST KNOW THAT MEGAN KNOWS SIGN LANGUAGE okay? OKAY
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I lied in my announcement when I said that this chapter would be out this weekend, I got too impatient :p
now that THAT'S out of the way,
some well deserved (and PAINFULLY DETAILED) sexy time for my readers bc I love you guys
i am SO SORRY that this update has taken like five weeks but I'm in denial of s8 and I need to cope
and as I think I've made it clear by Carl's suspicious amounts of abdomen pain, this story is nearing the end, BUT DONT WORRY because I have five more chapters and an epilogue + some bonus stuff after that :)) So we still have a little while to go
also my ending is somewhat original and I've been working on it since February 2022 (it's June 2022 as I'm writing this) so I REEALLLYY hope you guys find it interesting
AND if you're like me and you're sad that Carl and megan's history is coming to a close, try not to be because I have something else in the works for when EE is over. but I will continue to take my time with this book to make sure that it's absolutely perfect for you guys!! and I'll publish the other fic after EE ends and I have time to process + get attached to a new story!!
i love you guys SOO much and I'm sorry for the wait!! hopefully chapter 37 will be out soon!!