THE DAYS CRAWLED BY the three of them like spiders on bark, weaving and spinning in and out swiftly and silently. It had felt as if no time had passed since Rick's disappearance, yet - it also felt like it had been decades.
Carl grew more distant as the time veered on, less happy. They say time heals all wounds, but Carl's was cutting deeper and deeper each minute they spent sheltered under those trees. The cigarette in his mouth crackled and fizzed on it's own edge as he swivelled it between two fingers, staring ahead like he had nothing complex to think about.
"Told you to stop stealing those things off Daryl, he's gonna go mad," she said, announcing herself into the night. He didn't flinch as she spoke - not even trying to acknowledge her presence. He's sitting by the fire, the flame emitting warm light to his soft features. He looks confused, like he's thinking hard about something, yet Jane can't shake her total admiration for him. Everything about him, his faults, his new quiet nature - Because in the light, he seeps with charm and glows with beauty.
Daryl is still asleep, in his tent. And in the dead of night, Carl was awake - something not so unusual anymore. It's not the nightmares that wake him like it had been months ago, instead it's almost insomnia - he can't get his eyes to shut or his mind to stop working.
"It's cold." She says, lifting her arms over her chest, attempting to keep the little body heat she had in. It's been nine months.
She sits herself down beside him, their shoulders brushing together gently as she scoots closer to the boy. Her voice is sleepy, drawn out and spacey.
"Did I wake you again?" He asks, so quiet it's almost hidden by the occasional whistle of wind. He exhaled all the smoke from his mouth, holding the cigarette down by his knees.
She looks to the floor. He did.
"You can talk to me," she tells him, in a hushed, calming manner all whilst perching her chin on his shoulder as innocently as possible. He turns his face toward hers, their noses almost touching. She can feel his warm breath on her lips, and it feels so familiar - even though they hadn't been this close in two days. He presses his mouth to hers effortlessly, immediately putting her at ease.
It's just a small peck, but retrospectively, it means so much more than that. They break apart, faces still pointed close together - her eyes flitting up and down between his lips and his pretty hands, now laced with her own.
"I'm with you, whatever you do," she whispers, before going in for another peck.
He nods, swallowing hard as the tension in his hands tighten. He can't stop thinking of the image of her: asleep, tucked into the bed that was meant to be hers, the lamp still burning bright beside her - illuminating her face in all it's glory. It's every time he looks at her that a voice seems to ring back: she's not meant to be here, and it's all your fault.
"Here, look, if we sit on the floor, we're closer to the fire. It's warm." He told her, directing her down to the floor with a gentle hand. He took off his jacket, swinging it round her shoulders as her head falls to rest lightly on his.
"Listen," she says after a minute of soft silence, "I know we haven't talked in awhile. And that's okay, but if there's anything you wanna say....." she hesitates, continuing on, "well...I keep thinking about what it was like, when you were hurt. How alone I was. I don't want you to feel like that. Because maybe I can help - a little, atleast. I think about that week every day and every night, and maybe neither of us are doing so good, but we have each other. We didn't, back then."
She clears her throat, places her head carefully back to his shoulder and waits for him to say nothing. Instead, he exhales sharply and starts to speak.
"Yeah. We have each-other."
Just when she thinks the conversation is done, he takes a daring step and gears himself up to talk again.
"I never thanked you."
"For what?"
"For sticking by me. Sticking by my dad, and mich. you went against Daryl and Maggie to defend me. That's something." He turns his head from the flame and cranes his neck down to look at her.
"You would've done the same." She exclaims with a satisfying exhale.
"Yeah. I would've. But I have to say thank you, for me, and for my dad." He tells her.
"It doesn't matter now, because we're together and we'll find him. I won't stop till I do. I'll go out there alone if i have to."
"It's not on you, you know, you have a choice-"
"I know what it's like, Carl. To be lost. This is my choice. My only choice. I would've made it with or without you."
Lost. The word sits still in his mouth, rotting behind his lips. Lost. He knows what it means, to lose someone, and now he'd lost another part of him. One that might be much harder to get back. His gaze shifts to hers, and she can tell by the way his eyes flutter that he can truly see her. He knows the lengths that she goes to protect the ones she loves. He has seen it, beheld in-front of him: spoon-fed and served on a silver platter. He holds his breath, realising that this is the moment he has to push her away before she goes too far. He cannot afford to lose both his father and Jane, and so he knows he must keep her safe by sending her in the opposite direction: yet he can never bring himself to do it. The shit she's been through, especially the things she did for him, the suffering she endured because of him....
And the only true way of changing her mind would be to hurt her. Bad.
"And I know what it's like to lose someone. I just don't want to lose you. I've done it too many times now." he replies, whispering into the cinders of the flame.
"You won't lose me." She tells him, closing her tired eyes. oh, how I wish that was true, he thinks to himself.
Jane had fallen asleep by the fire, on his lap. His fingers looped in and out of her hair carefully and soothingly as he witnessed the fire burn out and the sky turn light. She looked so peaceful, her arms curled toward her chest and her cheek squished against his knee. He wished he could stay like so forever, just watch her sleep. And when he'd started to pretend this was all life was, his eye finally started to close.
"Cmon, Carl, man," Daryl was saying, hugging the boy's shoulder with his right hand and shaking it violently. Carl's eye shot open, and he was met with Daryl's frantic stare as the birds swung warning-fully above their heads.
"Whoa, what's up?"
"It's Michonne, she dialled in 'bout Judith. Somethings wrong. Wake Jane, I'll get the tents down. Get your guns, we're leaving."
"Judith?! What happened???" He yelled out frantically as Daryl retreated back, causing Jane to wake.
"I dunno, But it ain't good."
THE JOURNEY FELT QUICKER and more frantic than it had been in real time. When they'd found Michonne, she'd been geared up and on her way by then. She needed them (mainly Daryl as he had the tracking capabilities) to lead the way, and they willingly and worriedly did so. Carl tried to talk Michonne into staying back, because of her pregnancy and all, but she wouldn't back down. He couldn't blame her.
Now, Jane and Daryl lead the group as no one said anything - just the occasional mutter between the two as they discussed the trail.
Carl's heart was pounding from his chest at an alarming rate. Judith was in trouble. Judith was taken. Maybe if he could've been there it-
"Carl?" Came Jane's voice, evident due to it's raised tone. He snapped his eye up to meet hers, brushing his hair back as he swung his gun down to his side.
"We're separating. You go with Michonne. Keep her safe."
"There's two entrances, we're taking the second. The first is the easiest, as it looks from here but we dunno what's inside. No way to tell." Daryl finished, looking contently at the two of them.
Carl stared menacingly up at the building in-front of them. It looked as if it had been some sort of school - an old elementary, maybe? He swallowed back the lump in his throat as he watched Jane and Daryl back up towards the grass, obeying their contributions to the plan. He didn't like being away from Jane, especially not in situations like these - but he trusted her, and if this was the best way to get his sister back, he'd gladly proceed.
The nervousness in his chest had churned into a sickening nausea as he lead the two of them round a corner, approaching the entrance of the building. It was covered in greenery and foliage, expected but strangely untouched, like no one had entered in years. This anxiety wasn't for his own safety, neither for what might await him and Michonne at the other side of this door - it was entirely and irrevocably about Judith.
His hand trailed down to the chamber of his gun, his fathers voice echoing back to him.
"Alright listen to me, magazine goes in here, releases here. Make sure it latches."
The walkers continued to growl as Carl tried his best to take in what he'd said. In, release, latch. In, release, latch. He'd got it. He knew how to shoot, he'd known for a long time now. His skill seemed to shine as the two of them sprayed down the monsters - tumbling and groaning through the fence - one after another.
That was when gunshots rung out, from the back of the building. They whipped their heads round to the noise, terrified. In the haze of the worry, a click echoed ahead, like a deafening promise.
Then another. Click.
"Stop." The voice was strangely small, and as they turned their heads toward it, they realised why.
Two children stood infront of them, looking up with pistols nestled contrastingly in their palms. They were holding the guns like they had grown up with them taped to their souls, and Carl couldn't help but see himself in the both of them. Two boys, young and alone.
Stunned, he was unable to speak. This was a true hurdle - they couldn't really fight back, they were children. That gave them the leverage - they could shoot first.
"Please, I need to find my daughter," Michonne spoke; caution laced into every word, "just, lower the guns."
They shook their head in unison. Carl turned to Michonne, giving her an alarmed look as no noise continued from out back. It seemed they had problems ahead and problems behind; nowhere to go.
"Drop yours." The smaller one said, staring deep into Carl's eye.
Again, they looked at one another as neither knew what to do. One thing they didn't consider, though, was obeying these two. The guns would grant them better access to Judith, and in no world was he giving that up.
So, Carl only points his higher and stares menacingly at the boy who spoke. His blonde hair and blue eyes don't fit his current demeanour, too sweet, too inviting.
"Sam! Walkers!" Another voice shouts, high pitched enough to belong to a mouse. The kid springs round, and Carl jumps at the chance to knock the gun from his hands, causing him to yelp out in pain as his wrist knocks against Carl's bony forearm.
The pistol skids to the floor, bouncing off the brick wall sending it flying away from anyone's reach. Another round of shots fire, and this time, bullets are visible. They tear through the walkers effortlessly, sending their bodies to the concrete with earsplitting sounds as they always did. A firm hand grips at his shoulder and as he turns around to greet what he thinks is Michonne, is clocked in the face by the man's other fist.
He bucks his neck away from the punch but not enough to completely avoid it. Swiping his leg, he kicks the man (tall, muscular, hidden behind a bushy beard) in the shin, yet he hardly flinches. Another punch comes his way, and he actually does dodge it this time, but is met with another hand on the shoulder immediately after - the man now able to slam him backwards into the concrete.
He hit his head pretty hard, and so the next few steps were foggy. Doors opening, a struggle beside him. Michonne, maybe. Kids voices, running footsteps. He'd only come to his senses when the cold wall came in contact with his now bare back - his hands hanging cuffed above his head as they pushed him to the floor. Michonne sat beside him, looking him up and down with a certain fear that couldn't have been directed towards him, rather what they might do.
Daryl's out cold, hanging from chains buckled to his hands. Jane is beside him, their feet barely grazing the floor as Michonne slumps down against the wall, breathless.
Pain rips right through her body as metal is punctured to her waist, burning and searing through her skin. Daryl endures the same as soon as the rod lifts from her abdomen, and she feels more pain watching him go through it than feeling it herself.
Carl is still a little disorientated, but his blood turns ice cold at the sound of her scream. His shoulders jitter and his eyes widen in alert as he struggles away from the restriction, trying to get to her.
Michonne gives him a look, trying to silence him in fear of worse 'punishment'. A scorching X marks the both of them now, and Carl is certain that it's coming for him and Michonne too - until the woman just drops it to the floor, looking at the both of them by the wall.
She kneels down, putting her face as close as she can to Michonne's. Every door is guarded. Fuck.
"They're ours now, Mich."
"Where is my daughter!" She shouts, so angrily that the room almost shakes.
"She's ours, too."
Dread falls through the four of them as they all think the same thing: Judith. What had they done?
"You bitch!" Jane shouts through gritted teeth. "What did you do?!?"
"I started fresh. The kids, they're the future. Not us. They can fight. They can kill. I know that. So do you."
She turns her attention to Carl, and suddenly he's conscious of the fact that he doesn't have a shirt on. They must've taken it when they took Daryl's. Goosebumps prickle over his rough skin, yet he doesn't move an inch.
"You must be Carl," she whispers. "I've heard so much about you."
Suddenly, she yanks a blade from her side and pulls it up to him. Jane's whole body tenses up as she watches the interaction closely, trying not to show any weakness but desperately itching to call out for him.
Carl however, still doesn't move as the blade comes closer and closer toward him; instead he stares daggers right back at her.
"You're feisty. I like that." She pauses, drawing back a bit before speaking again.
"I bet she does, too."
It takes a few seconds for Carl to really understand what she means, and by the time he gets it, the woman is already making her way over to Jane.
No, please. Not her, He thinks to himself, but forces his mouth to shut up as his face twists with fear.
"Jocelyn, don't do this." Michonne blurts out, cautious with her words.
"Do what?" She whispers mercilessly, though she keeps her eyes locked to Carls, as if she's only trying to torment him and no one else. Clearly, it was working. Her fingers lift Jane's shirt a little, examining and grazing the smooth skin beneath it. It's rope, not a chain. Maybe if I moved around enough, I could rip it or...loosen it a little.
"So pretty," Jocelyn whispers to herself, knowing Carl can clearly hear. Yes, she is. Get your hands off.
His hands start to move more violently now, his mind trying to convince him that if he got free, he still had time to help her. Jocelyn brought the knife up to graze her stomach, Jane squeezing her eyes shut - accepting that if this was what it took to save Judith, she'd endure it.
The tip of the blade makes contact, Carl's hands fighting for freedom as he watches his girlfriend's face twist in pain. The weapon strives to go deeper, all whilst Jocelyn looks devilishly at Carl - knowing how much this hurts him. Michonne had told her all about the boy with the missing eye and the girl with a fiery soul. About their commitment to one another.
"Stop this!" Michonne yells once again, her face full of anguish and regret as Jane throws her head back in agony.
"Why should I? I know what she's done. I'm preventing what she might do next. It's for the world. The new one."
"This isn't about what she's done! It's about you and me!" Michonne pleads, and everyone in the room knows she's right, but Jocelyn dips the knife into the girl's skin rougher. She screams out through gritted teeth as blood starts to fall to the floor.
"Please, stop!" Carl pleads, realising his helplessness too late. Thankfully for him, it's not too late to be smart.
"She's...she's pregnant!" He yells out, and the whole room goes silent. The knife falls from her hand as everyone looks over to him, and his heart is able to finally calm down. Jane's eyes pierce through him as his words are so generally convincing that she almost believed them.
Jocelyn looks at the blood, then, to Jane, and then back at him. To his shock, she doesn't look horrified or the least bit surprised. She only bends down to retrieve the knife, laying in a small pool of crimson blood on the classroom floor.
"Pretty stupid, to get knocked up at a time like this-" she starts to say, but Jane's knee makes contact with her chin before she can finish. She stumbles back, her back slumped against the wall behind as she catches her breath. Jane's feet are already reaching for the knife below, trying to grasp it between her feet when Jocelyn's friend, the tall man, drives his fist into the side of her jaw. At this point, Michonne is staying as calm as possible, trying her best to think logically, and Daryl and Carl are rioting.
With nowhere to fall, her body stays upright as her face is pushed to the side by mere force. Without even having to turn it back, she wraps her legs around the man's waist, using the strength to push herself up so that the rope isn't so taught: allowing her to bring her joined fists down on the top of his head, sending him cascading to the floor. He falls beneath her feet, granting her space to try and untie the rope. More men and women come piling in but by that time she's already gotten the rope loosened enough to slip out.
Her knees hit the floor, near missing the man below her. He was conscious still, and so he managed to grab her and pull her down onto him, which helped her, as she was closer to the knife beneath him.
Reaching her hands underneath his waist, she feels for the knife. The handle reaches her fingers and she clamps down on it, scraping them against the floor to get the weapon out from under him successfully.
Bringing it up, she doesn't hesitate to swipe it across his neck, and immediately his grip loosens on her. She stumbles up, fleeting round to start to untie Daryl. She's almost got it when her shoulders are grabbed by none other than Jocelyn, who wastes no time in throwing her to the wall.
"It's not stupid," Jane spits, "This is stupid," she continues as she outstretches the knife toward her opponent.
"We have guns. We have numbers. Stupid is you four wandering in here thinking you could-"
She makes a defeated noise as Daryl's fist comes in contact with her face, and she falls to the floor once again, not able to get up this time. All Jane can think about is relief as Daryl towers over her again, thankful that he's free from his restraints.
She looks over at Carl and Michonne, assessing if she can get them untied in time before someone else jumps on her. Daryl seems to be calculating the same thing as he nods her over to the two of them before turning around to face whatever's coming their way.
She rushes over to them, whipping the knife from her side and directing it right to the rope connecting Michonne's wrists to the metal bar above her head.
"Let us do the fighting, Mich. we'll get her back." The woman wants to protest, and they both know she'll still try to help, but instead she just nods her head and gets up.
When Carl's eyes latch onto hers again, they're full of remorse and worry. Jane doesn't quite know what to think about his stunt, but it saved her and probably everybody else, so she won't complain.
"You're bleeding," she says, looking at the wound on his head as she saws the rope in half.
"So are you-"
"I'm fine. Let's just get you up, I think you're concussed." She tells him, in a rushed tone as she holds his wrists, helping him up.
"Now, you stay beside me no matter what alright? You're not leaving my side."
"But Judith-"
"We're going to get her. We will."
Jane knows it, only because she would kill everyone in this building to get Judith Grimes back. She'd do anything.
When they all manage to leave the room, they're met with four spiking hallways, and decide to split. And when they finally reunite, through battles and frantic searches, they're outside, and Michonne and Judith have reunited. Only there's something else, something sinister lurking. Because what she had to do that day was truly unspeakable. Yet, any four of them would've done it if she hadn't.
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guys I am so so sorry it's been over a month since I've posted just like so much has gone on lmao😭 TYSM for 20k?!?!?!?!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME THATS AMAZING