Anotha one. Based this off Pinterest sentence(s). :) Also I am NOT done with these or almost done, I've just been super busy with school and work.
"Just wait until tomorrow when Rick, Daryl, Maggie, and Glenn are back. They can help you," Beth had said. "Besides, you know Carl wouldn't like this."
I shook my head. "Beth I can do this. I want to prove to them I can do shit on my own. They're always helping me, but I want to show them I can help myself."
Beth sighed, knowing she couldn't stop me. "Just please don't get yourself killed."
I smiled. "Of course not. All I'm doing is fixing the fence, and then I'll be back. It won't take long and I'll be back in my cell before they even get back from the run."
I grabbed my knife and gun from my cell and innocently walked out of the prison so I wouldn't be questioned. I jogged the rest of the way to the part of the fence that is caving in a little bit. All I had to do was lift those logs against it for support. I thought it really wouldn't be hard- I could do this on my own.
There were a few walkers groaning from the other side of the fence, but I knew they wouldn't be able to knock the rest of it down. I lifted up the heavy log and shoved it underneath the caved-in part of the fence, hoisting it up. I felt satisfied and smiled when the first log stayed put. I bent down to pick the second log up, but it was heavier than the first. It rolled onto the ground and a walker pushed harder into the fence, making the first log fall down right on top of me.
A searing pain filled my left thigh and I moaned in pain. "Fuck," I muttered. I peeked up to see if the fence was still standing- thank God it was- and pushed the log off of me to inspect the pain. My stomach flips and my eyes widen as I saw a thick branch lodged into my leg. I ripped my flannel off and wiped the blood around the wound, realizing I'd have to take it out. There's no way I would let anyone know what happened, I'd let it heal on its own. I took a couple deep breaths in and then quickly yanked the stick out, which caused me to scream into my hand. I quickly wrapped the flannel around my leg tightly and limped back to my cell, fortunate enough to not have passed Beth again.
It's been a couple days since the incident and I had lied to Beth, saying I changed my mind and was waiting for help. My leg hurts like a bitch and I've been making excuses to not have to walk anywhere. I only get up at night so I can limp without anyone noticing. So far I've pretended I was sick, and I'm keeping up that act today as well.
"You should go see Hershel," Glenn says, walking into my cell.
"I'm fine," I lie, shaking my head. "I just need to rest."
Glenn sighs. "Y/N, you've been resting for days. At least get some medicine or something."
"No, it's okay. Thanks though." He exits the cell and I sit up on the edge of the bed, wincing in pain.
I lift up the left leg of my sweatpants until I can see the blood-covered flannel wrapped around my wound. I slowly move the flannel, slap my hand over my mouth so I don't make a noise, and notice that it has gotten worse. Swollen, red, bloody, and covered in pus. Not a good sign, but I'm hoping it will go away soon. I try to put pressure on my leg but can't, and I start to panic. No, it's okay. Calm down, Y/N. It'll be okay.
I breathe in and out, then move the flannel back in place and roll my pant leg back down. I jump when I see a figure in the doorway. Carl leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed.
"How long have you been standing there?" I ask quietly.
"Longer than you'd like," he answers. "How long have you been covering that?"
I don't answer and look down at my hands, which are folded in my lap. I hear Carl's footsteps and then the bed sinks down next to me.
"Can I see it?" he whispers.
I hesitantly roll up my pant leg again, but I don't move the flannel wrap. Carl looks at me and gingerly touches the wrap, pausing just in case I cry out in pain. When I don't, he unwraps the bloody flannel ad throws it on the floor.
"Carl, I need that," I say, motioning towards the cloth.
"We're getting you a clean one. And I'm bringing you to Hershel."
I quickly shake my head. "No, please. I'm fine. Please, Carl, don't tell anyone!"
Carl leans in and kisses my forehead, then whispers against it, "I'm not listening to you. I refuse to leave you hurt like this."
Butterflies fill my stomach as I am not used to Carl being this loving since we're just friends. "Please, Carl! Don't! I'll let you help me but please don't tell anyone," I beg, tears filling my eyes.
Carl sighs and wraps me in a hug. "Don't cry, it's okay. Shh, it's okay. You've got to calm down before I can make you better, okay?"
I nod into his chest and he pulls away.
"I'm gonna bring you to my cell and then I can help you there."
"Okay," I say quietly, swinging my legs over to the side of the bed getting ready to stand up. Before I can Carl grabs my shoulders, keeping me down. I look up at him confused.
"Let me carry you."
I shake my head. "Carl I can walk."
"No, it will make it worse. I'm sure it hurts like a bitch, so I'm going to carry you."
"I'm fine," I say.
Carl crosses his arms and sighs. "You wanna walk by yourself? Alright, let's see that."
I roll my eyes at his comment and stand up, wincing in pain and I instinctively stand on my good leg, taking the pressure off of my bad one. I look up at Carl and the small smirk on his face makes me take a couple steps before I can't walk anymore and just stand in place. My face turns red and I can feel Carl's presence behind me.
"Do I have an excuse to hold you now?" he whispers into my ear.
I don't say anything because I don't want to admit that he was right, and because I'm frozen from his words. He scoops me up into his arms and I wrap my arms around his neck. He carefully brings me into his cell and lays me down on his bed.
"I'll be right back," he says softly, leaving the room. A couple minutes late he reappears with some supplies, and my stomach flips wondering how bad it will hurt. Carl must notice my fear because he lightly kisses my forehead and says, "I'll make you better."
He takes a wet towel and gently wipes around the wound to rid the dirt and blood. It's very sore, but I try not to show it. Carl glances at me every so often to make sure that I am okay. He then applies a cream that stings extremely bad, and I can't help but twitch, causing Carl to grasp my hand.
"It's okay, I'm right here," he whispers as I squeeze his hand tightly. I finally loosen my grip when the pain dulls. "I'm just going to wrap it now and we're all done." He carefully places a cloth over the wound and wraps it up. "Can I?" he asks, motioning to my pant leg. I nod and he slowly rolls it back down. "Do you want me to bring you back to your cell?"
I shake my head. "Can I stay here?"
"Of course," he replies, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Promise me something?"
"What?"
"Please tell me if you ever get hurt again. I won't tell anyone as long as it heals, but please tell me, okay?"
I hesitantly nod. "I just didn't want to bother you. I wanted to be independent."
"It's okay to need help, Y/N," he tells me. "Can I lay with you?"
I nod and start to slide over, but Carl stops me and lifts me up himself, gingerly placing me closer to the wall. We lay there in awkward silence for a bit, and before I know what I'm doing I turn to face Carl and rest my head on his chest. He seems surprised, but then wraps an arm loosely around my waist, stroking it with his thumb. "Thank you," I whisper.
He kisses my head in response. "I need to tell you something."
"What?"
"I think you're beautiful and I want to spend every night cuddling with you."
I smile and lightly hug him. "Well I think you're handsome and I want to spend every night cuddling with you."
So I guess this is my cell now, too.
Carl is so frickin adorable. I want him.