𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐪
𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍
╚═══════════════╝
H E R
Maybe it could work. Maybe Carl and I could be friends.
It wasn't going to be too hard. His company was actually quite enjoyable. He could actually be funny at times. I never knew how light hearted he could be
I guess I hadn't really seen him as a kid my age, he had been a part of the original prison group which gave him some kind of heightened status, thus making him appear more mature and, in general, badass. But once I went to inquire with Rick as to where Carl was as he had missed breakfast (which I had saved him a plate) and he was supposed to help me with the laundry (which was a tedious labor best done in pairs), and the boy's father informed me that he had stayed up late helping reinforce a weak spot in the fence and had been allowed to sleep in. Rick then suggested I go wake him up which I was a little nervous about, but I didn't want to go against the man so I went into the unfamiliar block. I remembered which cell was Carl's from the tour we had been given months earlier so I approached, finding his sheet was pulled back and he was still resting.
"Carl." I had called out to him from between the bars.
No response, I stepped in.
I saw how young he was then. Carl was a pretty tense guy, and it surprised me to see him in such a relaxed state. His face was smooth, the crease that was a constant between his eyebrows vanished as he dreamt peacefully. His hair tousled, dark curls strewn this way and that. Eyes closed and full lips parted. Freckled cheeks rosy and soft. He looked like a boy. A simple boy. I realized then that he and I were maybe not so different as I had always assumed.
I hadn't wanted to wake him, as he looked so comfortable and warm, but we had chores.
"Carl," I kept my tone even, despite the urge to whisper, and I rapped my knuckles against the bars of his bunk bed.
Nothing.
Impulsively, muscle memory of how I would wake my brother, I placed my free hand on his chest and gently jostled him. A shriek of surprise almost left me when a warm hand took hold of my wrist with a vice like grip, moving my palm to his left, right over his heart. I felt the rapid beat of it through his ribs, his shirt, against my skin. I had pulled away immediately, upon lifting my eyes to see his own slowly blink open, a pale blue velvet in the dusty morning light.
"What?" His voice had been a little rough, deep and heavy with sleep.
I swallowed, trying to remember how to speak. "I saved you some breakfast."
His tired eyes had drifted down to the plate in my inoffensive hand, then back up to mine, a soft smile formed across his lips. I suddenly felt overwhelmed. Warmth flooding my body at it all. The simplicity of this boy, nestled in bed and smiling at me. Nothing rough or coarse about him, he had almost been dreamlike. I flushed at the then recent memory of his heart beat against my palm. So ethereal.
"Also, it's laundry time." I had added, trying to bring reality back into the conversation.
"Ah," He murmured, sitting up, the softness he had displayed now volatile as he became more alert. Still, the boyish charm remained, as did the flutter in my chest it gave me. "So, breakfast is your bribe?"
And the corners of his lips lifted in the impertinent ghost of a soft smile, like the sun shining small beams through the clouds after a heavy rain. I wish it was something I could save and share with the world so I could tell the universe that this was what it was like: getting to know Carl Grimes.
But I just shook my head. "No. We're scheduled and I'm not going to let you screw me over. The breakfast is so I don't have to hear you bitch the whole time." This was a little untrue, he didn't exactly whine but he easily became annoyed which was easy to poke fun at him for.
"I'm gonna bitch either way, if you don't want to hear it just ask to be teamed up with Patrick or Lizzie or someone." His voice had been teasing but it was almost like the look in his eyes was asking me a question. Wanting to see if I'd take the offer and do my chores with someone else.
Of course, I wouldn't want to do chores with any of the other children. Carl was the only person I didn't have to go back and redo the work for. He usually did everything right the first time, which made us a pretty good team.
Carl and I were the only two kids who didn't attend Story Time and for some reason, we always ended up together. Washing dishes. Hanging clothes out to dry. Almost like the adults were pushing us towards each other. They probably were.
We talked a lot during those times. At first, I thought it was best to steer clear of topics that might be sore to him which made it rather difficult to hold a substantial conversation but I soon realized he didn't really mind too much talking about the past. About Before. We both had charmed childhoods full of colorful characters but truly, we were only really telling ghost stories. Tales of a life gone by, of people we once knew who were dead and gone. While we never mentioned it, the fact of it clung to us, was intended.
However, we mostly just bantered back and forth. Arguing and teasing, never really crossing into serious territory. Keeping it light. Almost in our own little world.
From the time the morning sun would ascend, casting its gentle rays upon the prison, I found myself engaged in the timeless ritual of domesticity alongside Carl. With deft hands, I gently unfurled the wet linens and the boy, being that he was now taller, would suspend them upon the clothesline, where they billowed around us like ghostly sails in harmony of the wind. He didn't wear his hat much anymore, leaving his dark curls unruly, framing his sun-kissed freckled face. His hair had gotten so long, he could tuck it behind his ears easily. I wondered when he would get a haircut.
Then there was dishes after meals, the porcelain vessels awaiting their baptism in the cool embrace in the sea of suds held by the metal industrial kitchen sink. In rhythmic motion, I'd wash, he'd dry. Wash, dry, wash, dry, wash, dry. My wet, soapy fingers brushing his dry ones as they met on the crested rim of each plate, each bowl.
In this simple choreography of daily life, amidst the serenade of chirping birds and the rustle of leaves, Carl and I had somehow managed to find camaraderie in the unspoken communion of shared labor.
I enjoyed those short hours with the boy.
And when Carl went to work in the gardens, I kept myself busy in other ways. I mean, it wasn't like he was the only person in the whole world I had left to talk to.
Lizzie slept in my cell often so it was nice to have company. Her attempt at stealing a piglet proved a total failure, we barely made it passed the cafeteria before Carol stopped us with a stern face, wondering why one of the blankets in our laundry basket was moving. When we told the story to the other kids at dinner even Patrick was laughing, so hard a bean shot out of his nose, which only caused another round of laughter that almost hurt my ribs. It felt good to sit with friends and just laugh. Carl didn't think the story was that funny, mostly because Lizzie was involved and I don't think he wanted to give her the satisfaction of him finding her antics comedic.
But besides chores, I was helping Beth in anyway I could. Braiding Molly and Mika's hair. Doing crunches, sit ups and push ups in the shower as to avoid being seen making an effort in front of anyone. Anything to keep my mind off of the horrible world outside the fence. Or the thought that my brother was wandering around, bloodied from his death and craving flesh.
Sometimes, when I had time, I'd take a book or notepad out onto the veranda and read or draw, like one specific day for example. I had the perfect view of the gardens from my spot.
And Carl.
Like any teen girl, I was naturally curious about boys my age. And Carl was definitely a boy if there ever was one.
And it was definitely hard not to notice him. As much as I embarrassed myself with these thoughts, I knew I would be just fine if I kept them safe to myself.
I made a concerted effort to observe him covertly, mindful of the delicate balance in our budding friendship. Like approaching a skittish animal, any hint of unease could send him retreating. So, I masked my interest with casual glances, careful not to betray my keen scrutiny, lest it spook him away.
Every once in a while, I'd glance up from my book and Carl would look up at the same time, and our eyes would meet across the distance. And since I wasn't exactly, uh, suave, as I would jerk my head away, I'm sure made him either very annoyed or very confused.
In the end, I knew it only made the situation worse, as if anything he was doing was worthy enough to stare. The idea hadn't occurred to me until then that he had actually caught me doing it had me internally berating myself, hoping that he hadn't gotten the wrong idea.
I made the mistake again of glancing up, only for a mere second, and it happened again.
He was taking off his gloves and he was glaring right at me. The animosity in his eyes startled me, but I shrugged it off.
Nobody was exactly in a good mood that day. Worried because the group had went on a run. As in the group. The badasses. Daryl, Maggie, Glenn, Michonne, Sasha, and Tyreese.
All the others were scattered around doing odd jobs or relaxing, like me.
I kept my eyes focused on the book, but the words floated around and bored me as I had read the same paragraph over and over but couldn't not seem to comprehend what I was reading. And suddenly the page darkened as a shadow blocked out the sun.
I looked up, frowning only to meet eyes with Carl's narrowed ones.
"You know, instead of staring at everyone else doing work, you could actually help out." He said, pretending he was all disgruntled by me. "There's so many more helpful things you could be doing. Like collecting pig shit for the fertilizer bin."
I closed my book on my lap, neatly folding my hands on top of it and tucking my feet in. Curling my lip and pulling my eyebrows together in false disgust to make it appear like I loathed his presence and annoying tendencies, when truthfully, I was thankful he had taken his time to speak to me. Usually I was the one initiating any of our interactions.
In fact, and I feel strange admitting this, but he looked good.
Even if his dark hair plastered to his face with sweat and his lips were pulled into a tight frown, no one could deny the blueness of those eyes.
I don't know if I've mentioned it before, probably not, but Carl was well... handsome. It had taken a long time for me to notice and even longer to admit it to myself that I had, afraid it would make things weird. But in that second, the sun spilling over his shoulders and an eyebrow lifted in question while his eyes sparkled with mischief, I felt as if someone taken my heart into their fist.
Ugh. Because he had such a roguish smile. Unruly dark curls. Only a few inches away from being the height of a man. It wasn't fair. He couldn't possibly know how stupidly-boyishly-good-looking he was.
I knew that I was prone to it, whether I liked it or not. In this case not. The foreign feeling of awe discomforted me and I shifted under Carl's careful watch.
But then my mind settled and I realized that he had come over here with the intentions of bickering with me. How could I refuse?
I was never one to turn down a battle of the wits.
Nor the opportunity to speak with Carl.
(Although, I was a little embarrassed that he was calling me out for being caught watching him.)
"Come down from your soapbox before you share your infinite source of wisdom." I replied, standing up. Glad I had the upper hand due to the fact I was on the cement patio of the veranda and he was standing in the ground. "Do you have a problem with me reading?"
"I didn't know you could read. I mean, when you first arrived I thought you were a little doltish, but I'm thinking that you might be redeeming yourself...what's that? War and Peace?"
"Yes." I tried to stay even but my words came out from between my teeth anyway. The book was given to me by Jody who teased me endlessly about it, how I would never finish it.
I suddenly didn't want to banter with Carl. I didn't want to joke around. I wanted to throw the damn book from me as far as possible then curl up and cry. Which was completely absurd. I took a deep breath, struggling to find my mental footing.
His eyes crinkled at the corners were mirth that suggested he enjoyed tormenting me. Although he had been the one to walk over to me, I had taken the time to close my book just showed that I had been preparing for this conversation as well. Just not like this. Not to be reminded of Jody. But Carl didn't know. He couldn't know how pathetic I internally was. I had to follow the modus of operation. Stay true to our bickering format as to lead him off of my scent.
"Just because I don't do what you do doesn't mean I don't help out." I told him simply, pretending that his words didn't affect me. Going along with the simple banter we usually spoke in. "I work."
"Oh, yeah. You look like you've been working really hard." Carl went as far as to fein sympathy, talking slow like he was trying to make me understand. "You must be exhausted. Reading must be pretty difficult, you know, for you."
He used his boot to toe my own, kicking at the side of instep casually. His eyes lifted to meet mine, the corners of his lips twitching as he contained a laugh. God. He really thought he was the funniest person alive. He waited for me to respond. To bitch back at him and play our little game. But I wasn't in the mood to be toyed with. To be humored.
I know he was teasing me. I know he didn't mean it. We teased and bickered and bantered all the time. But I was feeling particularly sensitive because for a moment, he was just like Jody. Teasing me about stupid War and Peace. And I knew that I couldn't cry, never in front of Carl.
I was too caught up thinking about my brother. I backed away from him, dropping my eyes to my feet, tucking my book under my arm. I turned towards the door, planning on getting as far as I could from him.
I could only hold it together for so long.
"Where are you going?" Carl asked from behind me.
"To see Beth." I told him, my voice cracked and I felt like beating myself up. Don't let him know. Don't let him see. Glare at him. Something. Anything. Don't cry. Tell him to screw off.
It was then that he realized that this wasn't our usual superficial caustic conversation, that I wasn't playing around. He immediately went on the mend, which was surprising.
"I just got finished in the fields. Could I come with you?"
"Sure. I don't care." My tone biting as I shrugged dismissively, striding purposefully through the heavy doors. Inside, the prison's chill embraced me, a welcome reprieve from the oppressive heat outside. I quickened my pace, sensing Carl's presence close behind me, his footsteps echoing mine in the corridor.
"I was only messing around." He said but I pointedly ignored him. He was confused, I could tell. We constantly teased each other, it was common ground for us to poke fun. But the stupid book Jody gave me was cold in my hands and I hadn't finished it and probably never would.
As much as I feigned indifference to the memory of my deceased brother, I couldn't shake off the icy weight that settled in my chest at Carl's thoughtless jest about a trivial object linked to my brother's memory. I felt a surge of pathetic embarrassment wash over me, my attempts to mask it with irritation falling short. It was unbearable, knowing that Carl was witnessing my vulnerability, compounded by his well-intentioned efforts to lift my spirits.
"I'm having a conniption fit." I said plaintively, almost deadpan.
"A what?"
"That's what my mom used to say." I responded, not sure exactly how to clarify. "When she wanted alone time."
Alone time. That's what I needed. A good old pity party.
But then Beth sprang out of her cell block and into my path, the baby in her arms, stopping me in my tracks. Her face lit up and I knew there was no way to avoid her.
"Hey, Eleanor." Her smile widened when she noticed Carl beside me. "And Carl." She gave me a look and I just rolled my eyes, while only made hers crinkle with excitement.
"Hi." I said, trying to not feel overwhelmed. The waves of emotional disrupt were beginning to cease, Beth had a natural aura of spiritual goodness that could calm anyone that comes in contact with her. "What's up?"
"I just finished feeding her and-" Beth was interrupted by the sounds of Judith coughing. "Oh, no. Here, take her for me." She held the baby away from her, revealing green colored spit up over her shoulder where Judy had just been.
It took me a second to realize she was holding Judith out to me. The baby's legs kicked in the empty air, she was teething on her chubby little fingers.
"Oh, uh..."
I had never actually held Judith before. I had sat with her on the floor or patted her head, simple stuff, but never held her. She was this soft, breakable little thing and I feared hurting her unintentionally.
Carl seemed to notice my hesitance. "It's okay, I got her." Carl reached out for the baby. It was hard to ignore how his eyes lit up as he made contact with his sister. He pulled Judy into him, letting her head rest on his shoulder. Making sure he had a good grip on her. He, too, must have saw her as a soft, breakable little thing but as the loving and doting big brother he was completely gentle. It was sweet and I almost forgot that I was upset with him.
Big brother with his little sister. How ironic. When will the parallels end?
After Beth had disappeared behind the curtain of her own cell, Carl looked over at me. His face confused.
"Why won't you hold Judith?" His voice was hushed, as to not let the other girl completely overhear, despite the fact she was definitely eavesdropping.
"What?"
"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. Why don't you want to hold her?"
I had never held a baby before. Never really been around one. I had been the youngest sibling, youngest cousin. Babies had never been on my radar nor in my interests.
And I had seen Judith vomit and shit all over Beth enough times to know I wasn't keen on having one-on-one contact with the infant. Plus, what if I dropped her? Or if she started screaming because she didn't like me?
Honestly, I could not believe I was admitting it but... I think I was afraid of the baby.
However, I didn't want to insult Carl. This was his sister.
"I don't know what you mean." I lied.
Carl held Judith out towards me and I involuntarily backed away. Carl smirked, showing that I had been caught (for the second time that day). "I know you have a thing for hating people for no reason, but she's just a baby." I turned to him slightly, staring at him. He stared back, his words strung out in the air between us.
The truth was, I didn't hate him. Maybe I disliked him a little at times, but liked him enough to enjoy his company. I liked his voice, at times I yearned for the huskiness of it. I liked his hands, although I had only felt their coarse, roughness a meager amount of times. I liked his presence, the sense of security he brought with him.
What I didn't like was his random spouts of anger, his attitude, and his sharp all knowing gaze.
But I didn't hate him, as much as I'd like to.
In that strange way of his, he was admirable.
Carl sighed and rolled his eyes. "What's wrong with her? Why don't you like her?"
"I do like her. I'm just... not good with babies."
"Not good at reading either." He was testing the water, seeing where the landmine was. He stepped right on it.
Jody had said the same thing, accompanied by a ruffle of my hair. I couldn't help but visibly wince.
"Come on. I pissed you off, like, for real. Are you actually illiterate and that's why you're being such a little bitch about it?" He was teasing me again but in a way that pried for a true answer, he raised an eyebrow and waited.
I shrugged, brushing him off quickly, feeling humiliated. "Yes. I just stare at the pages of a book and hope no one notices I'm faking it. Oh, no. You caught me. Ahh." I held up my hands to emphasize my monotone yelp.
"El." Was all he had to say. That stupid, sweet nickname dripping from his lips like honey.
I attempted to steel myself, projecting an air of toughness, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that Carl Grimes saw right through my facade with his perceptive gaze. Despite my efforts to appear unyielding, I found myself drawn into conversation with him effortlessly, realizing that he had become remarkably easy to talk to. "The book... It was from my brother. He always said I would never finish it, that I can't read, just stupid teasing. God, it's so dumb. Hearing you say the same stuff, I don't know, it struck a cord."
"Damn, I didn't know." He watched me steadily for a moment. "You don't really talk about him. Were you guys pretty close?"
I scoffed a little, shaking my head as it filled with memories. "He was like my best friend, you know? He wasn't the kind of big brother who didn't want anything to do with their kid sibling, he really went out of his way to include me, make me feel like I mattered. It's just hard sometimes, I guess I don't like being reminded that he's gone... Jesus. You sly dog, you had me monologuing like an idiot."
"What? Oh, please. Don't act like one of your only talents is never shutting up." The banter immediately returned, as if the sensitive moment never happened, and I was grateful.
"You're starting to talk as much as I do, if you haven't noticed. You're actually kind of annoying."
"Bullshit."
"Don't curse in front of the baby," Beth scolded as she appeared in the entrance of her cell in a clean T-shirt.
"Her name used to be Little Asskicker. I think saying the s-word isn't going to make much of a difference." Carl insisted, handing the baby off to the older girl.
"You shouldn't be saying words like that either, Carl."
His jaw twitched. "Why?"
"Why? Don't get me started with why," Beth cleared her throat dramatically as if she were to list off reasons why Carl shouldn't be cussing. I smiled at the two, quarreling like brother and sister. Like Jody and me.
But I guess Carl didn't see it that way, because he was scowling. "Hey, Beth? How about you do me a favor and stop acting like you're my mom? Thanks." His voice was tight.
The sudden change of mood shocked me. I bit my tongue, eyebrows raised at his sullen remark. I realized I had been reading their entire conversation completely wrong. They had definitely not been bantering.
Beth narrowed her eyes. "Carl. Stop. You know I'm not trying to—"
"Whatever." Carl shrugged her away and stormed out of the cell block.
I stared at his retreating back, still surprised at the interaction. It was the first time Carl had ever referred to his mother.
"I'm so sorry, Beth." I wasn't sure why I was apologizing for him, perhaps I simply did not know what else to say.
"God. He can be such a pill." Beth sighed. "The worst part is, that wasn't the first time he's said something like that to me. You literally can't tell him anything. Or, at least, he has an issue if I try."
"Why?"
Beth leaned in towards me slightly. "Well..."
This was how I knew I was about to hear some gossip.
"Things were really rough between everybody when his mom died. Everyone was always at each other's throats. He really held on to that. Lori, his mom, was definitely not the group favorite at the time and the only person she could be hard on was Carl. She never really knew when to be assertive and when to let things slide. He took everything she said and would throw it back at her." Beth pressed her lips together. "When Daddy lost his leg, Carl went into the infirmary and brought back med supplies. I think he was expecting praise and instead she went off on him. He flipped. Threw a little tantrum. I couldn't help myself, I called him out. He's been stiff with me about that kind of stuff ever since. It's a little awkward."
Awkward because he likes her and she tries to parent him.
"I just try to watch out for him." She smiled softly. "But I get where he's coming from. How it must feel to have everyone older than you correcting you, even if they're just messing with him."
"I noticed he's kind of angry about some stuff." About everything.
"Exactly." She let out a breathy laugh. "I think it's just a guy thing. I'm just hoping someone will set his head straight one day."
≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪
YOOOOO I HAVE GONE THROUGH AND ADDED SO MUCH STUFF TO THIS CHAPTER TO MAKE IT FLOW AND MAKE ELEANOR LESS OF A BITCH UGH JUST BECAUSE EVERYONE WAS LIKE 'why's eleanor being such a bitch unstanning' LIKE SHES NOT BEING A BITCH SHES ALLOWED TO HAVE FEELINGS AND BE ANNOYED AND UPSET LIKE CARLS GOAL IS TO ANNOY HER BUT HE KNOWS WHEN HES GONE TOO FAR THUS THEY MUST REACH A RECONCILIATION UGH SHES NOT CRAZY JUST BECAUSE SHES A GIRL WITH FEELINGS
AND LITERALLY NO ONE SAID ANYTHING ABOUT CARL SNAPPING AT BETH BECAUSE SHE REMINDED HIM OF HIS MOM
LIKE THE PARALLEL WAS THERE BUT ALL ANYONE WANTS TO CALL OUT IS ELEANOR
TFFFFF
RANT OVER IM SORRY ITS TWO AM AND I HAVE TO BE UP FOR SCHOOL IN FOUR HOURS IM SORRY MY BEAUTIFUL READER BABIES I LOVE YOU WONDERFUL BITCHES WITH ALL MY HEART
IM A DUMBY SILLY GIRLY BECAUSE IM I STAY UP LATE WRITING BUT THEN STILL WANT TO WAKE UP AND GET ALL CUTESY AND READY BECAUSE I HAVE A ~crush~ AHHHH
SHUT UP HEATHER
SORRY HEATHER
DANG DANG DIGGITY DANG DANG DANG