𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞-𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐭
𝚜𝚠𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐
╚═══════════════╝
H E R
"Carl?" My knuckles rapped quickly against the bathroom door, near panic evident in my voice. I had woken up late to find his side of the bed cold, the blankets tucked in close to me where he should have been.
"Yeah?" He responded with that lovely, husky voice, and I more or less bulldozed through the door, shoving it out of my way. The boy turned away from the mirror, rolling his broad shoulders as his bare upper half faced me. His hand was lifted, placed gently over a clean white bandage taped awkwardly over the bottom of his right rib cage, close to the bullet scar from his youth that never quite healed properly.
I went to him, reaching out to investigate only to have my touch intercepted by his own. He clasped my hands in both of his large ones. "Dumbass, you're hurt?" I fretted, not letting him distract me.
"No, I'm fine." He insisted, tone gentle.
"What happened?" I pressed, knowing it couldn't be too detrimental if he simply covered it himself and was up walking around unscathed.
"Was whittling," He let me go to demonstrate, the lower hand holding an imaginary piece of wood and the upper holding an imaginary knife, pulling the top one in towards himself. "Forgot you're supposed to do it away from you." Letting out a dry chuckle, he shuffled passed me, leaving his dirty flannel and over shirt on the counter.
I followed after him to our room, totally rapt by his appearance of just the belted denim jeans and exposed skin. "I woke up late, you weren't here..." I bit my lip, feeling pitiful, but Carl wasn't one to judge.
"I am here." The boy pulled me into his warm chest, though he cringed a bit when I came into contact with his covered wound.
"Let me see it, it must be deep if you bandaged it. Denise taught me how to stitch..."
He waved me off again. "No, it's really fine. I just don't want to risk infection is all." He reassured.
I shifted on my socked feet, trying to get some of the worry off my chest and figuring it was easier to just confront him. "Hey," I paused, looking up at him with hard eyes. "I just wanted to let you know that I know."
His lone eye narrowed, his face going pale. "You know...?"
I nodded, letting idle disappointment cross my features. "Yeah, I wish you would have just told me. I would have understood; you don't have to hide things from me."
"If you're talking about what I think you're talking about, then you're taking it a lot better than I expected." He rubbed the back of his neck, seeming at a near loss for words, in a state of disbelief though it was so obvious.
"I'm not sure how else to take it." I reached into the pocket of the jeans I was wearing, having pulled them off the floor in my rush to later realize they were Carl's pants from yesterday, and removed the smooshed carton of cigarettes he had been keeping on his person. "But these things are actually bad for you, you know? And look-" I opened it, displaying its contents. "-You smoked almost the entire the pack already. I didn't realize how into smoking you had become."
"Oh," He drew out the word then he laughed, which surprised me. "Right. That. I'm sorry, El. I should have told you it was more than just the one. But I'm done with those, I promise. I'll go cold turkey." Then he chuckled again, almost breathless. I enjoyed hearing his laugh but found something strange lying behind it.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I questioned, finding all his behavior since I came across him a little off.
Instead of answering, he pulled me in for another embrace. "God, Eleanor. Do you know how much I love you?"
I began to move away, suddenly feeling nonplussed. "Carl..."
"Come on, no one's here. It's just us. Talk to me."
I always fuddled through conversations about feelings but Carl's sudden passion perplexed me and I was interested in getting to the bottom of it. "What do you want to talk about?"
He took my hands in his as he sat on the edge of the bed, settling me between his legs and grinning up at me. "I just want today to be a good day." Then he rested the side of his face against my stomach, letting me run my fingers through his dark curls of hair that I always found myself favoring. Then he stood, picked me up, and flopped onto the bed with me in his arms.
The sudden jolt of motion sent our foreheads together in a clash. "Ow, Carl." I rolled off of him, hand to where he nearly cracked my skull with his own incredibly thick one.
"Sorry," But he was sort of laughing. "I just have a crush on you."
I rolled my eyes. "No, really? Since when?"
"Well, I first knew I had a crush on you the night we first spoke. When I found you watching the stars." His reply was immediate, as if he had been thinking it already. "You were the first person I had really talked to in weeks, and there was just something about you. And then I got to know you. Something just... flipped."
I hadn't expected such an honest answer.
Remembering that night, a young Carl Grimes bathed in silver moonlight, his eyes lit icy blue. He looked at me like I was stupid then, a nuisance. Much different than the way he gazed at me in the present. "And suddenly, you just liked me?"
"How could I not?" He rhetorically replied.
"Right, right. I was the only girl around your age and it was convenient."
"Oh, my God, Eleanor-"
"-Oh, my God, Eleanor-" I mimicked.
"-Everyone who comes across you can't help but love you, want to keep you safe."
"I don't need protecting." I tried to keep my voice from becoming sharp but I did feel slightly insulted, although I didn't take in personally. I was not fond of being someone else's responsibility.
Carl, not wanting to pick a fight, smoothed his hand across my cheek. "Of course you don't, but I can't help that every piece of me would do anything to keep you from harm—Oh, your nose is bleeding."
I groaned. Another one. I used my sleeve to staunch the flow, but not before it invaded the region of my mouth, making me taste the iron bitterness of blood.
"Why does it keep doing that?" Carl asked, having noticed that the scenario had become a regular occurrence.
"I don't know. It feels like it started when we got to Alexandria."
"No, no... They started after the run you went on. The one where your heart st-"
"Oh, yeah. That. Maybe. I don't know. But they're annoying." I responded as I accepted the kleenex he pulled from the nightstand drawer. I thought about what Carl told me about his crush on me. "Can I tell you something?"
"Always." He said and when I didn't immediately continue, he asked: "What is it?"
"I don't know. It's stupid..." Then I caved in to share a story with him that I knew he would appreciate. "After the prison, when I was on my own, I carried your duffel with all your crap in it so I would wear your clothes and once it stopped smelling like you I'd change into another one." I shook my head, a small snicker escaping me. "I love wearing your clothes, Carl." Then my smile turned to tears, the old emotions surrounding the memory of that awful period in my life that I had repressed seemed to be making a very late appearance.
"Eleanor, hey..." The boy soothed me, rubbing my back and pressing kisses against my temple. "You can wear my clothes whenever you want, especially since soon they'll be all that'll fit you."
"It's not just about the clothes." I choked out, ignoring his attempt at humoring me. "I thought you and everyone else were dead. I had no one. I was scared to death. And I would sit up in a tree wide awake at night wondering what I'd do when I got down to the last shirt in the bag. What I'd do when your scent was gone. I can't go through that again, it almost killed me the first time and I didn't even know you the way I do now."
I waited for him to comfort me. To continue the joke and tell me that he'd always be around to dirty a shirt for my growing self to wear. But instead he just wrapped me up, rocking me softly against him. I decided just being held, cradled, was enough reassurance than anything he could have said. He used the calloused pad of his thumb to brush the tears away, leaving kisses in their wake.
"Do you think you'll ever regret... us?" He wasn't looking at me, he was watching my hand stroke his side as if he was trying to burn it into his memory. I hadn't even realized I'd been doing it and pulled my hand away shyly.
He knew I hated these kinds of conversations and I was already at the point of tears from the memories being stirred up. But there was something different about this, something deeper than surface. This was a conversation we needed to have, today of all days for some reason.
"Us." I echoed. "I think there's been an us longer than either of us realized. You know what? You're the best friend I ever had."
His face softened, he brushed his fingers along my jaw and I couldn't help but lean into his touch. "Yeah, El. I know."
Despite everything, especially our rocky beginning - he, once having been this cold child soldier who shot and killed my brother without a second thought, and myself, having totally loathed him for it - we had beat the odds. Overcame separate paths, different mindsets, learned who the other really was behind the façades we had created. No, we had definitely not chosen to love each other, it was no decision at all. It was the fate of the universe, something we were hopelessly and irrevocably destined for. We had grown intertwined with one another, nearly one person instead of two. And beneath my flesh, growing inside my body, was a product of that growth. We were healing, we had a future. What could be more beautiful than that?
Then his lips were on my throat, his arm across my back pressing me against him. I realized then that he was hard, intentionally placing the state of his arousal right where I couldn't ignore it. "I want to feel you." He breathed against the sensitive skin of my neck, unrelenting as he tasted my pulse. Then his hand took mine, leading it to his bare abdomen. "I want you to feel me." The tips of my fingers brushed over his smooth, taut stomach avoiding the bandage and feeling as a the muscles tightened beneath my contact before stopping at his belt buckle which we undid together.
Every touch, every movement, was considerate, purposeful, and meaningful. There was no haste, only the need to be with each other, to feel. We were vulnerable, exposed, all was laid bare. It was almost bittersweet in some way, as if he was trying to tell me something without words. Trying to make the most of each second.
No, I did not regret loving Carl Grimes. I only regretted not loving him sooner.
And I should have told the boy so, to completely answer his question, as I was pinned beneath his body, our hands clasped together. But I couldn't bring myself to even speak. He was slick with sweat, trembling, as he contained whatever rampaged him. It was like he had never done this before and never would again, taking his time despite the provoked flames within us.
He was so alive. Every cell bursting with life under my hands as I ran them along his burning skin. He had asked me to feel him and I certainly did, losing myself in awe at his divine existence.
There was longing, palpable and resolute. It shook me to my core and stymied all thought. There was nothing more either of us could want or need; not in this moment and not it all our time we've spent together. It was almost like there was nothing more than the two of us.
I decided maybe luck did exist. We were safe. We were together. We were going to have a future. That being my truth in that moment, was nothing short of a miracle.
x-x-x-x-x-x
Carl carried on in good spirits during our time babysitting Judith with several creative activities, going out of his way to make it a memorable session. I guess he was serious about going above and beyond to make the day good. There was something about him that ebbed at me. Lurking beneath the surface. It belied his precious assurances.
I never liked when he kept things from me, but his positive attitude and attempts at filling the hours with small but special ventures made me assume he had a surprise of some sort. A good one, I guessed, by his mood.
"You seem happy today." I commented as we sat on the porch swing, watching the gates and waiting for Michonne's return. Judith was nestled on his lap, he used one hand to hold her in place and left his other one out across my thigh. I watched his long, pale fingers trace across the inseam of my jeans.
The boy turned his head to me, offering no other answer besides a shrug, a squeeze of my leg, and: "What's not to be happy about?" I noticed then, across his jaw, was the beginnings of facial hair lit up in the fading light. Fine, dark down running along the edge of bone between ear and chin on either side.
I lifted my hand, the hair still soft as it had never been trimmed, his skin heated beneath my fingers. "Look at you," I chided. "You're gonna have yourself a full on beard soon."
Carl offered me a grin, one that nearly looked forced. "Remember my dad's? He must've had something living in it, it was nearly a nest."
"God, that thing was huge. Are you going to try to grow yours out like that?" I hoped not, he had such a handsome face and I didn't want it hidden in any way.
"No, I won't." He assured me. "I definitely won't."
I rested my head on his shoulder, too warm and content to care about who would see be being affectionate. This seemed to please Carl, as he pressed a kiss against my hair and knelt his head against mine. "Good." I responded after a moment. "I'm glad."
He took a deep breath, taking it in almost shakily. "Is there ever a moment you wish you could freeze and live in forever?"
Throughout the day, I had grown used to his continuously asking question after question but this one engendered a memory, something that in the past would have perhaps made me upset but now instead brought a small chuckle from my lips.
"What?" He asked, curious towards my reaction.
"Ok, this is silly but my mom used to say she believed God let's you choose a happy moment to live in over and over again. And that's what she thought Heaven would be like. I don't know if that makes sense-"
"It makes sense." Carl assured. "Do you think she's right?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."
"I hope so." Carl said lightly and in a way I agreed with him. Thinking of all the people we have lost, they all deserved to live in a happy little piece of forever. That seemed like something God would do. "What moment would you choose?"
"Oh, I've got a cheesy answer." I quipped, leaning away to look at him. I lowered my eyelids, lifting my chin. "Any moment with you."
That earned me a laugh, a display of his dimple cut deep into his cheek as he flashed me his teeth. He shook his head, amused. "That's pretty broad."
"It's because we hang out too much. You need a hobby." My response earned me a hearty Carl Grimes laugh.
"Remember how your heart stopped? On that run you went on when you lost your fingers?"
How could I forget? I nodded in response, wondering what he was getting at, why he was bringing it up for the second time that day.
"What was it like...? Being dead...?" It was a slow, soft question. Like he had been waiting to ask for a long time.
I thought it over a moment, knowing this answer was something he had been wondering about and finally had the courage to seek openly. "I don't really know. I can't exactly remember. It was so quick. It was like, one second everything was exploding around me and then the next there was darkness. A warm kind. Like being in tucked your bed while it's raining outside. I thought for sure if I opened my eyes I'd be back at my old house in Montgomery. Then the next second, I was being ripped away from it and I took in a breath and it burned and I was alive."
"That was your moment then? Being in bed?" He laughed.
"I'm not sure. You know what? I used to have this dream all the time where I woke up in my bed at my old house and then I would go downstairs and have breakfast with my family and-" I stopped, remembering that this dream used to be a consistent nightmare that plagued me. That finished with my brother asking if I'd rather stay with them or with Carl, his murderer. I quickly altered my sentence, jumping ahead instead of telling him the full course of the dream. "-And, I don't know. The feeling was different. Not exactly a memory, I guess, but still familiar. It felt like something that hadn't happened yet but was supposed to."
"So, you can pick a moment that hasn't happened yet?" He seemed trivial, like he seriously wanted to know.
I scoffed, amused. "I don't know. There are no real logistics to it. It was just another one of my mom's stories—and she was a little off her rocker sometimes. I think she just liked the idea of it, made her feel more comfortable with dying or something."
"Does it make you more comfortable dying?"
"I've already died, Carl. It was the most comfortable I've been in years. Trust me, living is the part that sucks."
After a moment, he slowly nodded. "I guess."
We were roused from our seats at the arrival of Michonne. Judith bolted from the porch to the woman's arms, Carl and I slowly following after. The boy paused at the bottom of the steps, removing his hat and tilting his head back a bit, letting his face catch a ray of sun. A soft smile crossed his lips as he closed his eye. I watched him glow gold for a moment, totally in awe, before he looked down at me.
"What?" I questioned due to the way he stared. His gaze held something soft, marvelous, bittersweet.
He contemplated a second before slinging his arm around me, the sun still illuminating his features in such a charming way. The hollow beneath his eye was turning ruddy, like a deep set bruise but I didn't mention it. I let him smile at me. "I'm just happy to have today."
x-x-x-x-x-x
Carl Grimes was selfless. He went after the stranger in the woods, the one who gave him a quote. That's where he had disappeared to that morning.
Carl Grimes was selfless. He stood at the gates as a trojan horse sacrifice against Negan while the rest of our neighbors found safety below the streets from the fire and bullets and bombs the Saviors promised then presented.
Carl Grimes was selfless. He was a hero. He was a leader. He was intelligent. He was a clever strategist. He was understanding. Caring. Brave. Strong.
But one thing Carl Grimes was not, was fine. He was all of those wonderful things he had built himself into, only to go and be penalized for it. I always thought no good deed goes unrecognized, but perhaps no good deed goes unpunished.
Carl, in his attempt to be good, to prove that he was not the monster the world had continuously pressured him into becoming, was now injured in a way that was untreatable.
In that last several minutes my world had been turned upside down. Above us, Alexandria was in ruins. Nothing left remained, our home destroyed. And below, where I stood with Rick and Michonne in the dripping sewer, Carl Grimes was lifting up his shirt and peeling away his bandage.
I couldn't look. Couldn't breathe. My entire body felt like lead, trapped in concrete. This was not my life. This was not happening. I watched the night sky through the porthole in the street, the smoke too thick for the stars to shine through.
I brought my eyes back down to the boy and, despite Rick and Michonne kneeling to fret over him, his glazed eye was on me. He waited for my reaction but I was frozen. My vision was blurred and wet, realizing I was still holding my breath. I tried to stop time, tried to make sense of it all, but everything alluded me.
I could not accept this. I refused to allow what was before me to be true. Finally, I lowered my gaze to what he had revealed that could not be ignored any longer.
A bite. The distinct mark, still bloodied, stood out against the pallor tone of his chest. A Goddamn bite.
Carl Grimes was selfless.
And he was going to die for it.
x-x-x-x-x-x
The surviving Alexandrians planned to go to Hilltop but we knew Carl would not survive the journey. Their doctor wouldn't have been able to help him anyway. We got him into the church, once a place that was the eye in the tornado of my life was now littered with debris and shrapnel. How ironic. That I was losing everything in one night? While I could bear the loss of my home in Alexandria, I could not handle the indescribable weight that came with the loss of my home in Carl.
We set him down in the center aisle, right over the spot where weeks ago we were confronted by my pregnancy with his child.
This wasn't happening. This wasn't real. All I could do was stare at him. Watch as the blue leaked from his iris, in a stray beam of moonlight it glistened crystal clear. This boy, so healthy and alive this morning, was fading. Fading. How could someone this young and this smart and this strong who's made it this far succumb to a bite? I listened only to his heavy sighs of breath escaping him. His hard swallows. I focused on that as he spoke to his father, trying to convince him to end the war. It felt like an invasion of privacy to listen in on their conversation, to his dying plea to the man that raised him.
I didn't cry then. Couldn't. I was still confined, eyes wide and bones rigid. Michonne had an arm around my shoulders, but it's more for her comfort than my own. Because I didn't feel anything at that moment. I felt empty. Brain dead. Couldn't process anything happening. My blood was pounding in my ears. Teeth clamped together. I tried to come to my senses, tried to be there for Carl. Yes, focusing on his breathing helped.
His labored, dying breath.
"Carl... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." Rick was clasping Carl's hand, his one and only son. "A father's job is to protect his son."
"Love." Carl replied, his words were labored. "It's just to love... I would have been lucky to be half the dad you are. I would do anything to give the baby the childhood you gave me."
It took a second for Rick to process the compliment before he realized the deeper meaning. "Wait, what? What baby?"
Carl, using the last bit of his strength, sat up to lean against my shoulder. He shut his eye, taking a deep sigh in before glancing back at his father. "Eleanor's pregnant." The bomb drop was more devastating with the current predicament. I took it in fully, like an eruption with the aftershocks rocking me into awareness.
This was happening. This was real.
Carl was bit. I was pregnant.
I had been so afraid of how Rick would look at me once he found out but he won't even spare me a glance which actually felt worse. Michonne, however, was pulling me back into her arms, Carl still rested against me. "Oh, God." She muttered, shocked.
Then Carl, with a shuddered breath, reached down for his gun. Deciding to leave on that note.
"No, no." Michonne moved to block his hand. "It should be-"
"I know. I know... Someone you love." Carl took in a breath between his teeth, he turned his face against my neck, his skin burning against my throat that he had been kissing just hours earlier. "Eleanor..."
I knew what he wanted me to do. Knew what he meant.
Rick left his gaze on his son, not releasing his hand. Michonne, lip quivering and eyelashes thick with tears, nodded in ascent. I sat, holding Carl's limp body up as they said their goodbyes, their 'I love you's.
My chest felt tight. I did not cry. I was stiff.
Then Michonne and Rick were gone, I was alone with the boy.
I realized that we had not spoken directly to each other since the discovery of his bite. And for the first time in a long time I didn't know what to say to him, which seemed ridiculous because with our situation I should be tripping over myself to say everything I never had.
Because there had been so much left unsaid, thinking there would be time someday to say it. When I was ready. When I wasn't scared. When things were better. I had been living life as if I had been guaranteed that someday, and now I was left a fool who had wasted time. I was cruel for it; for holding back thinking I would not face consequence.
And with everything, for the last couple years of my life that I had spent with him, that I had waited for the right time to say, absolutely alluded me. How could I find the words?
"I'm sorry, El." He whispered and I set him down on his back, letting him stare up at me. He was ghostly white, almost luminous, sweating profusely. His eye blinked, it's cerulean hue gone, the dark shadow beneath his eye looked almost like a painful bruise. "I was just... Wanted to do something good for once."
"It's alright, Carl." I responded dumbly, threading my fingers through his. Despite his fever, his hands were icy. "Nothing to be sorry about." My voice was not my own, it was terse and hard. I had to be strong for him, couldn't break down. My shock had subsided my hormones enough that they kept the floodgates of my eyes shut for at least now.
"I am, though. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to be there for you, for the baby. You don't deserve this."
"You don't deserve this." I told him in disbelief. He was the one laying there near death and he was worried about me? "You've survived so much bullshit just for it to... It's not- It isn't- Damn it, it's not fair." Suddenly, I started to fumble with his shirt, desperate. "We could-we could skin it off. It's not-"
"Eleanor." He hushed me, weakly bringing my head down to his chest. The position was familiar, a common way I fell asleep. But the heartbeat that once lulled me was sluggish, unlike the strong thump I remembered so clearly. I never wanted to forget that sound. But along with his slow heart, was his struggle to breathe. He took in air, rasping it into his throat. "It's too late. It's already set in. There's nothing left we can do." My strong, beautiful boy was dying. It was this fact along with his fingers brushing against his holster that finally broke me.
"Not yet, Carl. Just a little longer." I lifted my head and begged, betraying my strength for him, desperately pulling his hand away from his weapon. "Give me more time."
"Alright, because you've already given me all the time in the world," He whispered with a rusty voice. I raised my hand to coddle the side of his face, he closed his eye briefly, relishing in my touch. His skin was clammy beneath mine but I loved it all the same. I leant in to press a kiss against his chapped lips, dry and rough, he returned the simple act of affection. I moved my boney fingers into his hair, thick with grease and sweat, the curls limp. I tried to memorize every detail. Even now with a festering, lethal wound and burning fever, he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Still angelic in every way. And, God, I loved him. Though I knew all along it would be my downfall, I stood by my previous statement of not regretting it. "You've given me more than I ever had a right to and I'm sorry I let you. I'm sorry that all I ever did was set you up to get hurt. I never deserved to have anything to do with you after what I did to your brother. I've never been able to forgive myself."
"No, don't talk like that—"
"I can't help it, I'm just so sorry." He cried out, unable to even produce tears in his state. "...Lift my hand for me, I want to touch you." I did as he asked, his limb heavy as I brought it up to the side of my face, holding it in place. He ran his thumb slowly down my cheek, then across my lips, and to my chin.
"I love you, Carl." I choked out, leaning into his hand, pressing a kiss against his palm. "And I'm not sorry about it. You were right; about the consequences being worth it. I'd do it all over again and wouldn't change a thing. I don't regret you. I don't and never will. I'm sorry for not saying it. I love you so much."
"All this time?" He whispered, pain so clear in his voice.
"Yes."
I loved him. All this time. All this God damn wasted time.
His chest heaved as he mourned, a dry sob leaving him. Then, with the last of his strength, he lowered his hand to my stomach, gently resting it over where it slightly bulged out as evidence that his child resided safely inside. "My sweet boy." He said, testing out the words that I knew held more meaning to him than I could possibly imagine, before he suddenly looked at me with all seriousness. "You have to promise me something."
"Anything."
"Take care of yourself. No matter what happens, no matter what you feel, don't give up. Do it for him." He urged and, for the first time, I covered his hand with mine over my womb. I had avoided my stomach for weeks, keeping my attempts at bringing up what grew inside to a minimal. I had been so unable to accept its existence, and now it was what tethered me. Because it was Carl. He was Carl. For the first and last time, Carl and I cradled our baby together.
Then I felt it. A movement. A flutter. Something rolled inside me. It's small, nothing monumental, but it pressed into Carl's palm. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. The doctor said this would happen soon but I was still not prepared. The baby moved for the first time.
Carl had enough of his wits still about him to feel it, understand what it was. A sob broke through him. He pressed deeper, desperate for it to respond. Through my flesh and my womb, his baby had touched him. "Please. Keep him safe. You have to promise me."
"I promise. I promise." The words tore from my mouth, desperate to be heard. I bent over, kissing his mouth several times before moving on to the rest of his face. Not wanting to leave any inch of him unloved.
"And I never thanked you." His rough voice told me in a hushed tone.
"For what?" I pulled back.
"For saving my life. For bringing me back from the dead. You gave me hope, you showed me what this world could be. And I'm sorry we won't get to really see it together, but I'm glad you'll be there to take it in for the both of us. Thank you."
"Oh, God." I shook my head, fingers wound tight in his damp tresses. I couldn't let him go. "Carl..." His name was all that came to mind, I was struck stupid and wordless.
"And thank you for making me believe again."
"Believe what?"
"Believe in Heaven. That there's more than just this, there has to be. Something kept pulling us back together, we always found our way back. And we'll find each other again, I can feel it. I've never been more sure of anything."
I shattered at that. He closed his eye then, so drained, so tired. The end drawing near but I could not let go. I tilted my head back in reverence and that's when I saw the hole in the roof, the sky, the stars.
"Look, above us."
His eye followed my gaze. "Orion." The name left his mouth hollowly. A memory of times that I can't believe feel so simple compared to this moment. He shifted slightly, his body so heavy, but still alive. Barely alive. I wanted to keep this boy a little selfish time longer. I had to keep him talking.
"What happened to him, Carl?" The question came out so small.
"It's time, Eleanor." He rasped out.
I looked up at the sky, the galaxy, where the universe ended and a new one I'd never encounter began. Somewhere out there, in the vortex of time and space, the sun and all its stars had burned out into nothing. The earth and everything on it had ceased to exist. Where our story had happened so long ago it was forgotten, not a soul remembered our names, like we never existed at all. Where what was happening now was already over and nothing could be done to change it.
"No, please, tell me what happened to Orion."
A tear cut through the ash on his graying face. "I don't know. I don't know. Maybe the original story was right after all... And I always thought the stars were a good place to..." He didn't finish, only drifted once more.
"Carl? Carl?"
I shook him, hard, too hysterical to think of an alternative and he startled back to consciousness slightly. "Sorry, I'm sorry."
"Stay awake, okay?" I pleaded.
His eye met mine, fogged over and ice colored. "We have to do it before I turn. I don't want to be one of them."
Carl was right, he was dimming, growing faint. The infection was running its course. It wouldn't be too much longer. "Tell me, I never asked, what moment are you going to pick?" I took in a deep breath, trying to steady myself, reminding him of our earlier conversation.
He gave me one last smile, weak and tired. "Any moment with you." He engendered my precious quip and I could no longer contain the sob inside me. It erupted, wet and rough, from my throat.
What I had feared all along was Carl living in pain if something were to happen to me, that I had never truly considered the devastation of the vice versa. And this heartbreak, this grief, I already felt... I was glad it was me who would suffer this loss and not him.
And maybe I knew it all along, from the beginning, that this was always going to happen. He's been dead since he met me. No matter how hard I fought it, no matter how my heart denied it. Only for this story to play out exactly as intended and rip me to shreds as fate unfolded.
"Sorry, it's hard to choose one. They were all so lovely." He said, like maybe he was trying to humor me. Now out of all times.
"Even the bad ones?" I asked, since there were honestly too many horrendous occasions to count that we had endured.
"Yes, El. Even all the lovely bad ones."
Then he drifted a little, eye closed. Getting further away with each second.
"Don't go, Carl, don't." But my pleas were insufficient, for there was nothing to be done that could make him stay.
"It's okay. It's okay." He whispered, rambling almost, repeating. "I'm not afraid, Eleanor, I'm not."
I think Carl knew, too. All along. That this was the story we would tell. Although he had accepted it long before I had.
I remembered how I once thought about how he was never afraid, not even when he was scared to death. Carl Grimes, the boy who's faced death so many times and slipped out, now greeting it fearless.
"I-I can't do this."
"I can't do it myself." He gestured to his gun and with the universe's weight heavy on my shoulders, I pulled it from the holster. "We'll do it together."
I took his limp hand and wrapped it around the grip, followed by my own.
"Under my chin, that way it gets the brain." He guided. I couldn't believe he was saying that to me. I couldn't believe I was about to kill my best friend. I shut my eyes tight, knowing I would have to do most of the work as he didn't have the strength to pull the trigger on his own.
"I'll see you soon." I whispered to him, our familiar goodbye.
We would find each other again. He believed it, so must I.
"Not if I see you first." He sounded accepting, almost relaxed. I opened my eyes to find him watching me. In his singular glossed, starry-eye was all the trust, adoration, and understanding that we had spent so long building up together. My boy who was bathed in the moonlight that gave him an ethereal glow, looked like the fallen angel he always had been. And despite everything, I took a moment to appreciate our time together, the fact that I had gotten the opportunity to know this boy, to adore this boy. "I love you, Eleanor Maude. I love you, Eleanor Maude."
He knew what he was saying, what it would mean to me. How he was making a point of his last words. I felt the last of my sanity leak out, listening to his swan song.
"I love you, Eleanor Maude. I love you, Eleanor Maude."
I saw it all flash before my eyes. His eyes lit up electric blue in the moonlight on the front steps of the prison. The gleam of his pearly teeth the first time I had teased a smile out of him. The crease between his eyebrows and gentle hands as he tended to me when I was sick. The smell of his clothes, fragrant and boyish against my skin. The blush on his cheeks when he gave me the necklace. The taste of his ash covered mouth on mine after our escape from Terminus. The feel of his rough hands holding me as we fell asleep night after night. And his name, forever the name on my lips. The fact that when I went to call it again after this, I would never get an answer.
And in the last holy place left in my life, right over the spot where we discovered our future that was now to be destroyed, his mantra was cut off by the echo of a gunshot.
≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪
the end.
ok i always see authors say 'wow that was like hard to write' about last chapters and i never understood why until now
bc after this i was like "wow that was like...
...hard to write"
my intentions were to tie up any loose ends and give this an ending that honored them :')
so
guys
this is one of my life's works coming to an end in an insane 6930 word chapter
but fortunately i've got the social media counterparts
also i have another carl book that's just as intense and heartbreaking/warming ٩( ᐛ )و
and of course i'll bless you all with an epilogue AAANNNNNDDD an alternate ending ;)
edit: just gonna... leave these here...