THE HORSE'S HOOVES HIT the ground steadily, creating satisfying pattern as it's mane blew slightly in the breeze. The stone beneath them was starting to wear, and Rick was just starting to get hopeful. Buildings spiked from the ground up, into industrial sized peaks that they themselves would never reach. Walkers sprung from every corner, yet Michonne felt a sense of superiority - she considered herself untouchable, even though she knew she shouldn't think of anything that way.
Jane's horse followed behind the couple, galloping sporadically to try keep up with them. With her mothers knife in hand, she would swipe at walkers that might just get too close. Carl was beside her, on his horse that he had named 'Star' because of the print of her fur: a sizeable star shaped white patch of hair on her midriff.
"Nice one," he compliments as she lets the pierced Walker go limp. Gunshots often scared the horses, so it was just a good idea not to use any guns overall.
"Thanks," she says, smiling at him before speeding up to a trot. She's still trying to get her head around this happiness, this normalcy. Was Unconditional the new word for this love?
Maggie, Enid, Carol, Ezekiel, Rosita, Eugene and a few others followed on the mission, on a cart big enough to hold a small car.
"How we looking up there, Rick?" Maggie shouts over snarls and clicks.
"It looks open, for the most part," he yells back, directing his voice to everyone, before clambering off his horse to hit the ground on two steady feet. The rest of the group seems to follow in action, and as soon as Carl gets off of Star, he helps Jane down from her horse, putting his hands on her waist as she hops to the floor.
Rick nods at the two of them as they catch up to follow him and Michonne, slicing through walkers when necessary. Jane hadn't been in a city like this one since Atlanta, which had maybe been around five years years ago, by now. She remembered city life better than she thought she did, and as they roamed the seeping streets she started to imagine what it would've looked like with cars racing by. Rays of sunlit hues surrounded them as dust glittered in the daylight, craning down from the skies and weaving in from the cracks in the concrete.
She looks over to Carl, his face bathed in warmth. He closes his eyes as they walk, tilting his head up towards space and reeling it in. When he opened his eye, it reflected speckles of golds and iridescent blues back into life as if those colours had never existed before him: It wouldn't be a stretch to believe that the sky had seen his eyes and modelled those brilliant hues after him, directly.
"What?" he asks, feeling her eyes on him.
"Nothing, you're just so pre-" They suddenly snap their heads in Rick's direction, who is informing everyone that they've made it. The cart is still wheeling behind, and Rick's plan proceeds as he helps to situate them near the entrance of the museum for easier access. Carl extends his machete from his right hip to his chest, protecting himself as they used all effort to push open the masterfully carved wood that was withholding them from inside's content.
As the doors crack and break under their weight, they start to fall into the foyer, coughing and spluttering as they hit the ground in a ruckus. Everyone stumbles upwards onto their knees as they intake dust and dirt that had been sitting for a long, long time.
Before anyone can even begin to rise completely to their feet, Carl is already asking if Jane is okay, and looking to her cautiously. She nods, unable to speak but still perfectly conscious. He places his hands on her waist to help her up (though he knows she doesn't need it) and he brushes the dirt from her shoulders as she straightens.
No one takes notice of their quiet moments - simple moments. But the act of his hand on her waist or a brush of their shoulders was everything. After those soul crushing weeks in October last year, they never shrugged off the little things, because they just meant so much more now. The glance of an eye or the ghost of a touch - it all mattered.
Rick gestures towards them and they proceed further into the building. Maggie and Michonne are talking ahead of them, and Rick staggers down the crowd to get to the kids.
"You guys alright?" He asks, though he knows the answer.
"Yeah, fine dad. As always," Carl tells him, and they smile at each other so kindly that Jane was sure this moment alone might just cure the world.
The three of them were on the road to get better. There would be moments where Carl would have to grip onto the back of a chair and wait for the flashbacks to end, or seconds where Rick would look at him and think he saw the angriness that Carl had once gathered in his eyes. But these incidents were inevitable, and they would pass, which was the only good thing about them really.
Rick's newfound sense of community had been working well, and Jane felt herself feeling proud of him. She admired what he had built since Negan's defeat, though others did not. Carl had a big part in it too, as it was his vision. She knew she could never be as good as them, and maybe, that was okay. Maybe it was better to let them take the lead, and follow the friendliness they were supposed to garner.
"What about you, old man?" Jane asks, and he chuckles, before moving on.
"Fine. I'm just fine. Can I ask you guys to clear out the left rooms? We don't know how many walkers are in there but it's good just to take anything out before we start to move anything."
Jane nods, and Carl unsheathes his machete from its holster. "Sure, we'll meet you back at the entrance?" She asks.
"Okay. Shout if you need help. Enid, Siddiq and Jesus are clearing out the right rooms, so they should be close by."
Without saying a word, they nod and move slowly into a side room, right off of the hallway they had been advancing down. No walkers seem to lunge at them immediately, but they keep their weapons close just in-case. Jane switches her flashlight on as her eyes try to adjust to the sudden dampness in light. This room in particular had no windows, so it's only natural light source was coming from the door that peered open widely behind them.
The light ignited only a rectangle of substance, and the torch in her hand only sublet a small circle of luminance to whatever she focused it on, which meant they were mainly left in darkness.
The two of them decided to split once they found two different doors - each making a separate amount of noise from beyond the wood. Her hands outstretched to the doorknob, twisting with all her might but the metal would not budge. This was extremely common, as doors like these seemed to seize shut after so many years of not being opened. Still, she grew impatient, and started to slam at the door until it swung open and hit the wall across from it hard.
The Walker inside came screaming and flinging at her, brawling and snarling with it's claws extended towards Jane's skin, like they usually did. She went to pierce it's head, knife at the ready - but found herself stepping back, hesitating and then ripping her hand away from it. What had caught her so off guard had been the apparent similarities between it and Sophia.
She stumbled idiotically backward, into some random boxes and mossy debris. The Walker, though small, scrambled atop her, and only then was she able to pierce into it's head with her handled knife and kill it.
It went limp, falling in straight limbs and blonde hair onto her body. What once had been a little girl was now a monster - and probably had been for a long time. Jane was brought back to Sophia's face in its entirety, just looking back at her with a hunger so deep, and a righteous sense of decay rooted securely behind her eyes (once a brilliant blue, afterwards - a dull ash).
"Hey, hey, you okay?" Carl says, suddenly beside her and pushing the Walker off with ease. It slides to the floor beside her like nothing, just staring up at the ceiling with a newfound meaning of the word 'dead'.
"Yeah, shit, I just fell. That's all." Carl glances down at the thing more intensely than he had before as she gets up to stand beside him. He realises the resemblance between it and what once had been her sister. His stomach churns.
"Jane..." he starts.
"Damn, I didn't even hear you come in. You scared the hell out of me." She retaliates, changing the subject swiftly and combing her now bloody hair through her fingers.
"I scared the hell out of you? You just almost died."
"I did not almost die!" She scolds, smiling at him. She's trying desperately to push the image of Sophia from her mind, but it doesn't quite work the way she wants it to.
"You two okay?" Jesus asks, shouting through the darkness - speaking directly to their flashlights.
"Yeah, I just tripped. Any update on the others?"
"Yeah, they've found whatever it is they wanted to take home. Some cart or machine of some sorts."
"Cool. We'll be there in a minute," Carl tells him, turning right back to Jane once Jesus is out the door.
She wonders why he didn't just follow him out, but frees the thought from her head as he tucks her hair behind her ears. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I can handle myself," she assured him. Their faces were so close now that her nose brushed against his; and he decided to press his lips to hers so innocently. After pulling away and pushing their foreheads together, he took a sharp breath in.
They waited there for a minute, just gaining closeness as time passed. It wasn't often that they could be alone like this anymore - Ever since everything happened, everything's been so hectic and rushed. Rebuilding communities and relationships between said communes had proven tiring, but successful. In easier words: the group was always on missions, carrying out labour or training for unexpected circumstances.
Carl kissed her on the cheek before stepping back, bending down to sling something over his right shoulder.
"I found these in the history room back there. I think they actually work." He picks up another of what he just provided himself with, and reveals it to be a fairly recent rifle, a steel-back make. He clicks the lever down and two fake bullets pop out.
"Are you serious?"
"Absolutely," he states, smiling. She grabs the gun from his hand and mimics his stance.
They join the others quietly, and Carol acknowledges them as they make their way downstairs. The woman puts an arm round her daughters shoulder and they walk in par with each other, Carl falling slowly behind.
Twenty minutes pass and ropes are tied tight to pillars, walls and their very hands. Jane holds the rope with whitened knuckles, behind her mother and in-front of Enid. Carl is on the other side of the room, pulling the second rope and trying to keep his eyes on the wooden structure in-front of them.
This task should've been easier (dragging the cart down the stairs) but what made the excursion so challenging was the glass tile floor, housing, underneath - about thirty walkers. If this thing weighed too much, it would crack the glass and they'd lose it. It might even make a large noise, attracting a ton of walkers in the city towards them.
Still, the greatness of the pull wasn't nearly as scary as anything they'd faced before.
The cart slid as it cascaded past the bottom step, almost breaking it. The glass creaked and screamed under it's wheels, and most of the group winced at the sound. It took around ten minutes to slowly and carefully string the cart along, yet when they had managed, it was no celebrating matter. In the few seconds that they had cleared it of the floor, a walker had sprung out at Ezekiel, catching him off guard and tripping him down into the glass. It immediately smashed, sending the king flying down into the sea of walkers. Carl, Rick, Maggie and Jesus had gone outside to continue hauling the cart and to tie it to the horses, so it was just Carol, Siddiq, Jane, Enid and a few others left inside the building.
"Quick, help me untie the rope from the pillar!" Jane yelled as she scrambled to free it from the knot. With Enid's help, they managed to unravel it in time, tossing it down to Ezekiel - who was hanging from a metal rod just above the hungry dead ones. Everyone got behind her as she pulled him up, and with their combined strength and reaction, they had managed to save him.
He scrambled to his feet, as Jane exhaled with relief. She almost grabbed her knife from her holster when two hands were placed on her shoulders, but when she spun round she saw it was only Carl. She was worried he might fixate on the glass, and the miniscule cut under her eye where a spec of it had caught her, but instead he just looked relieved too.
"You okay?!" he asked frantically.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, almost laughing at the situation. Carl, however, wasn't laughing so much - instead he had turned his attention to the pillar behind them, and when Jane spotted what he was looking at, she wasn't so curious anymore.
Her mother had pushed Ezekiel up against a pillar, and was kissing him passionately. To say that it took her by surprise was an understatement, and she looked away as soon as she could. Her mom? Ezekiel? She'd expected Daryl, maybe, but Ezekiel?
As her and Carl began to walk away from the scene, she felt a tug on her shoulder once more and saw that Ezekiel had finished his make out session and was standing right behind her. He engulfed her in an unexpected hug (which felt unordinary and sort of awkward, seeing as they'd only talked once, and she'd kinda yelled at him).
"Thanks for saving me, kid. I owe you one."
"No, you don't, your majesty. It's just what we do." She said with a smile.
They needed extra horses for the weight of the cart, so Jane had offered up hers and shared with Carl for the way home, and in no world would she have minded it. Her hands got to rest on his waist, and when no one was looking she would plant small kisses on his cheek or his shoulder. Of course, a few of them had spotted it, because those kids are never as sly as they think they are.
"So, mom. You and, uhm, Ezekiel?" Jane had asked, when their horses were close enough together that she could say it quietly.
"Just because you and Carl are like that doesn't mean I can't be?" she laughs, mocking Jane's estranged tone.
"We are not that bad." She makes a 'oh really' face and gestures down to her daughter's hand placement, because her hands are now resting on Carl's thighs. She immediately shot them back up to his waist, and Carl chuckled to himself quietly.
"I was gonna tell you, but I just wanted to wait till' the right time. Sorry, hon."
"It's okay. No need to apologise. You seem happy."
Carol smiles to herself. "I am."
Carl and Jane, Enid, Siddiq, Ezekiel and Carol decide to head back to hilltop on a separate route as Rick and the others are taking the Cart to the bridge, and there's not really a way the six of them can help beyond that.
"I'm excited for some quiet," Carl admits, as they fall back behind everyone else for a little privacy.
"I mean, there's only ten minutes till we get home. You know we won't get quiet at home."
"Yeah, I know. There's always stuff to do." he sighs.
"Well, I was thinking...." she explained as she slowly and soothingly rubbed her hands up and down his lower thighs. "That we could go to the lake."
"The lake that you're always talking about?" she nods at his assumption.
"Sounds good to me," he tells her, smiling.
THEY MADE MINIMAL SOUND as they advanced throughout the forest, linking hands occasionally past branches, logs and bodies. Green surrounded them obtusely, snaking round their bodies and filling the forest with life. She didn't miss winter, not one bit.
She'd worn a light summer dress: white and lacy, something she'd never done before. It was nice to be so free in it, to wear something so old-worldly. Practical things, like her boots and her holsters stayed on under all the frill, but she'd never be able to pretend they weren't there. War was always latched onto her - whether in the form of a gun, a chipped tooth, or even a minuscule speck of blood.
"What do you miss most, about the past, d'you think?" He asks, looking up into the blues and greens.
"Uhm....maybe....I'm not sure. I mean, I'll never get to live in a busy city again. I liked that, I guess. You?"
"I miss having a dog. And like, going out to do stuff. We can't just go get pizza, or ice cream, or see a movie, y'know?"
"I could do with some pizza. Some good, greasy pizza."
He chuckles at her wording, brushing his longer hair behind his ears as it sways in the breeze. He takes a long break before speaking again, staring at her though she couldn't see it.
"Do you remember much of the farm?" He wonders aloud. She turns her head backward towards him, looking him in the eyes now.
"Yeah. Yeah I do. I mean, between.....Sophia, and you getting shot, I guess I only remember the bad parts."
"It's starting to slip from me. Certain days, they stand out but......it all just blurs now." He clears his throat, looking right at her with concentration. He's trying his hardest to remember a day on the farm that wasn't clouded by pain killers, Walker encounters or fire. He can come up with nothing.
"Must be hard for Maggie. Everything that happened there, she just had to leave her home so quick." Jane sighs, looking down at her feet as she holds tight to the bag that hangs from her shoulder to her waist. They're almost there: she knows it distinctly, only because a sweet smell of fresh water starts to lap over her senses.
"Everything's hard for Maggie." Carl adds, and she knows he is completely right. Everybody does.
"You talked to her recently?" Jane asks.
"Yesterday. I was playing with Hershel, cause I had to drop some crops off to the Barron house. She seemed better."
"She's still a little cold to me," she glances at the birds that had made every noise possible above their heads. "After what I did."
"Hey," she snaps her head up to his word, "I would've done the same thing. She would've too. She has no right to be mad at you."
"I understand it, though. He held my hand as he died. But it never felt wrong taking that medicine. That's fucked up."
"No it's not. You damn know that if I had died-" he's cut off by her quick voice.
"Don't even." A sharp twang of pain hits her as she thinks about what happened, and what could've happened.
"If I had died at the lineup, and Glenn had been near death when I was....She would've taken that medicine. It's not about revenge, or anger. It's about love. It's what we do for it."
And again, he's right. But she can't shake the thought that her fact of no hesitation had been at-least a little monstrous. Maggie sure thinks so, that's for sure.
She stays quiet, not quite sure if anything she might add to that would be valuable to any degree. She knows she doesn't have to say anything, and that Carl won't think much of it, but it feels iffy to stay silent when he pours his heart so truthfully.
"We made it," she lets out, after a few minutes of silence broken occasionally by the forest. She finishes her sentence just as they clear of trees and make way into the bay of the lake, surfaced with rocks and other sorts of mossy debris. It's beautifully peaceful, and unlike the forest, not a sound sparks across the still water. It's finally quiet.
"Holy shit. Peace." He says, and she lets herself laugh, throwing her bag down to the ground and turning to look at him. They hadn't quite had a minute to themselves in a while, without being interrupted or busy or just not there at all. "It's quiet. It's actually quiet."
"Yeah. You should've seen it in the snow. It was all ice."
As she continued to talk about winter, he was already taking off his shirt and his jeans, ready to dip in the water.
"Race you," he whispers into her ear before sprinting off the minuscule dock and into the lake.
"You dick!" She yells back as he plunges in, spraying her with water. Lifting her dress over her head, she unlaces her boots and slips out of them, running toward the water as he resurfaces.
She hits the murkiness with a splash, soaking his hair as he comes up from the depths. The water isn't cold, but not quite warm either - a negotiation between the two. Her face breaks into the sky and suddenly she's combing a sheet of hair from her vision. He laughs devilishly, strands of brown chestnut strung to the sides of his cheekbones sweetly. Water drips from his nose and Jane can't help but forget about everything else ever, because he just looks so pretty.
"I love you," he says, still laughing.
"Shut up," she retaliates, grinning. Her hands go to push his head underwater and she succeeds, making him cough and splutter when he takes another breath.
"Okay, okay okay I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He pleads, holding in laughter.
"You better be," she warns, getting closer to him and wrapping her arms around his neck - pulling their faces toward each-other. With no patience, she closes the gap between them, pressing her lips to his gently and kindly. He kisses back with fire, but she pulls away before it can lead to anything sinister, splashing him slightly with water as he ducks away.
Diving under the surface, she starts to swim to the middle of the lake, and only stops when she can't reach the bottom. He follows, and finds that he can reach the floor, so he gestures for her to latch onto him. The sky still echoes brilliant blues, and carl is jolted back to a particular morning last year, where he had painted words on trees and wished for her tremendously. And here she was.
"I like this. When it's just us." He tells her, so quiet it's almost a whisper.
"Mmhm," she hums, snaking her arms round his neck and her legs around his waist.
"It used to always be us. Alone, I mean. Do you remember that one week, where it was literally just us and Judy in the house?"
"Of course I do." She says, smiling up at him through her brown eyes. They reflected the hues of the sky so well.
"I'm going to marry you one day," he blurts out, abruptly after a calming silence between the two of them and the lake. "I wouldn't have even considered it before, but, it's been on my mind ever since the party. Ever since, we...y'know."
Jane let's out a quiet laugh, because she knows exactly what he's speaking about. A little too much alcohol had been involved and they'd just been so desperate - so, as to not disturb anyone else and to not be caught, they got into Jesus's car and had sex. Unfortunately, they were caught, in the morning when all the alcohol had worn off and they were found just sleeping in there. Thank god it wasn't Rick or Michonne, and that it was just Rosita, but still it was a little embarrassing.
"Not just that, though. I don't know, I guess I've just been helping my dad fix the world, and I see how much it's changed. I see the future I want with you."
"Okay." She says, after considering it. "But it was your idea, so you're explaining it to my mom and your dad when it happens."
"I can take that." He laughs.
The whole world seems to disappear at the lake, and time appears to slow. They end up spending two hours in the water, and only when oranges and reds start to prickle into the horizon do they get out.
There's a small cabin, just off the coast of the water. Jane leads him to it, the both of them smothered in towels and dripping wet.
"It seems we didn't think hard enough about the 'jumping in in our underwear' plan," she mentions as she takes a glance down at her soaked through undergarments. Carl takes a swift look down her body and it's like he's never seen it before: he's taken aback, gasping for air almost. He takes three long steps forward and doesn't hesitate to smash his lips on hers, grasping her waist and pulling her towards him. She feels like she should break away, and that this might lead to something bad, but there's no way she can. Moving the two of them backwards against the counter, Carl moves his lips from her mouth to her neck, and that is when she knows she's doomed.
"Jump," he mumbles into her neck, and the sensation of his voice under her chin sends shivers down her back. Obeying him, she hops up onto the counter and wraps her legs around his torso.
"You make me fucking crazy," he whispers desperately, trailing his cold hands up her back to un-clasp her bra. He's about to un-do it, when his elbow knocks a glass to the floor and it makes a tremendous smashing noise. He flinches, squeezing his eye shut and gripping hard onto the counter. Her eyes snap open and she immediately lends her hands to his face, trying to soothe him in any way she can. This happens occasionally on it's own, but the sound of glass just sets him off. Usually, there's nothing to do but wait till the flashbacks are over.
"Just breathe, just breathe honey," she lulls as he tenses his eyebrows, knitting them together. His breath starts to slow as he does what she suggests, and eventually, he calms a little.
"I'm sorry," he admits, exhaling sharply and refusing to look in to her eyes.
"No, no you don't have to be sorry. Come here," she opens her arms for him, and he doesn't hesitate to rest his head in the crook of her neck. Her hands reach to his hair instinctively, combing it through her fingers softly as if nothing in the world would ever get to them.
"Hey, hey. I'm right here. I'll always be right here," she whispers into his blanket of hair. Carl knows that what she's saying isn't just to make him feel better, but also the cold hard truth. She was there when his mom died, she was there at the line-up, she did unspeakable things to save his fate from Lucille. She had saved him, every single time.
"I'm gonna go put my clothes back on, it's getting cold," he mumbles almost sleepily, pulling away from her and retreating into the small room across from the kitchen. She knows he just wants to be alone, so she doesn't follow him, not for now, anyway. Instead, she hops off the counter and starts to clean up the glass, bit by bit. It's not nice for her either - touching it, feeling the shards between her fingers again. But she keeps going, because she can't let Carl keep staring at it.
As soon as she's finished, she takes an empty water bottle from her bag - filling it up halfway with tap water. Then, she gets dressed, just shoving on her white dress over everything else and combing her hair out of her face. Lacing up her boots, she contemplates knocking on the door. What he's going through, it's difficult. It always had been. He might never recover from it - never move away from moments like these. She thought about the walker that had looked so much like her sister, and just overall understood that this would never go away. No matter how hard they tried to run.
"Carl?" she called lightly, after tapping at the door only twice.
No answer.
Her fingers reach for the door handle, pulling it down gently and pushing the door open. The room was well lit, blessed by the last rays of sun that would be evident before nightfall. He was sat in the middle of the floor, just staring down at his own knees - the gold casting a beautiful hue on him. She placed the water on the table, before kneeling right down beside him, and only when she was close enough did he raise his head to look at her. When his eye met hers she could see it glistening in the light, and she swore she could've broken down into tears too - just the sight of him all destroyed like this was hard to comprehend. Yet, she stayed composed as much as she could, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling their faces side by side. He only let himself cry when he was in her arms, and suddenly the tears were falling rapidly as he hugged even more into her.
"I just...I don't know what to do," he managed to muster between silent sobs. "I want to be me again."
"You are you. You are."
"I don't feel like it," he whispers.
She can't quite think of something to say, because frankly, she cannot change how he feels about himself. So, instead, she just holds him tighter, and prays that he might be okay. That he'll realise that this doesn't have to be his life forever, and that with her - he'll always be protected.
"You're you as long as you're with me."
THEY MANAGED TO GET back to hilltop in good time, just after the sun had set. Usually, the two of them might have greeted the others, but tonight they wasted no time in getting the shower and just going to sleep. As they lay in bed, carl couldn't help but repeat to himself her words over and over.
you're you as long as you're with me.
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hope you all had a good christmas! i can't believe it's 2024 tomorrow. hope you all had a great year, and again thank you so much for reading this story. <3