» Time Is Dancing « | » Carl Grimes «

» ADAPTATION PT.2 «

Good News Comes In All Shapes And Sizes

All I had to do was take Henry some food, that's all I wanted to do. But being in the cells, knowing she was there, made my blood boil in an unstoppable way.

My fingers brushed the metal bars, gripping them as the girl met my eyes. Her wide, panicked ones to my narrowed, suspicious ones.

"How many of you are out there, really?" My voice was steady but I knew she could sense the venom dripping from each syllable. I wanted her to be scared of me, I wanted her feel like she was running out of options. Truth be told, I wanted her dead.

Her mouth remained tightly shut, the lips trembling against each other with fear. My hand skimmed the blade at my belt, begging to be used.

'All in good time.'

"One way or another, we're gonna get an answer. So, you might as well give it now if you want a quick death." I hissed, keeping our eyes connected. But still, even with all the dread inside her, she kept quiet.

The knife was out with a sharp whip, metal clanging on metal as I slammed the bars. The girl jumped at the loud and sudden noise, her arms tightening around her frame as she cowered in the corner.

"You killed all my people, I told you. They're all dead because of you. We only killed one of yours." She wailed, fresh tears on her face.

My tone was laced with irritation. "He was important here, he was our leader. The whole community is in mourning now, who's fault do you think that is?" My raised voice caused her to flinch, her determined front finally crumbling.

"My mom. She's the only one left, she's just one woman. What could she do by herself? Please, just leave her alone." She begged, her lips parted in a sob.

I sighed with frustration, my fingers running through my hair. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

My knife was returned to its sheath, boots stomping on the gray floor as I made my way back to the steps.

"Michonne told you stay away from her." I groaned at Daryl's commanding tone, noticing him leaning on the brick wall of the house. I frowned when I saw how close he was to the cell window, obviously having heard my conversation with the girl. I joined his side, keeping my eyes front.

I couldn't stop the break in my voice. "Jesus is dead. The people here just lost their leader, a good man." My back slid down the wall, my legs folded up to my chest as I held back the cries. "He's gone."

Daryl sat next to me, allowing me to curl into his arms for comfort. My whole body shook with emotion, quiet weeps escaping my lips as I tried to suppress them. He didn't need to say anything, just being here was enough.

I sniffled shakily, my hand wiping against my nose and my voice thick with tears. "This doesn't mean I forgive you, by the way. You're still on my shit list."

Daryl let out an amused chuckle and I couldn't help but matching it, my face still damp with tears. I rubbed my fingers in my cheeks harshly, drying them off.

"Why did you do it?" I asked in a hushed voice. He hung his head with shame, biting his lip as he hesitated. He knew exactly what I meant. It had been so long since I saw him, and it almost offended me that he would rather be alone than with family. I couldn't help the feeling of abandonment that weighed in my chest.

He shook his head, sighing instead of giving an answer. I felt my eyes water again, taking a good look at his face. It was grief-stricken, his eyes distant as he thought about the past.

"Heather missed you." I told him, seeing the way his expression softened. "She can't remember you, not really. But I told her all about you. She still calls you papa." I breathed out a laugh.