Sorry I haven't been able to update in a few days. My family went skiing this weekend, and I didn't have the time, or good connection to continue this. :)
• Rain's POV:
Of course Carl insisted on checking the house by himself first, so as he entered, gun raised, Rick and you waited for a bit before hobbling in behind. Rick lets go and you all search the first floor, Carl running upstairs, "Carl!" He calls after his son as Carl ignores him, ducking around a corner.
Snooping through the kitchen, you collect some food, and after organizing it all on the counter, hear Carl's loud footsteps travel down the steps like a stampede.
"Nothing upstairs," he speaks at a high volume, or at least louder than what we're used to. But no matter his volume, he still sounded pissed.
Rick responds quickly, his voice scratchy, and his temper also coming to a steady boil, "hey, keep it quiet." Carl then walks into the hall towards you, Rick returning to looking through drawers in the living room.
You manage a small smile, hoping to lighten Carl's spirits, but he returns only a slight scowl. Huffing and rolling your eyes, you head back into the kitchen, Carl going his separate way down the hall.
All is silent until Carl smashed his fist into the corridor wall, "hey asshole!!," you freeze, "hey shitface-" What the hell is wrong with that kid?
"Watch your mouth," Rick yells back, you only sitting at the table alone, listening to their argument. Things were going very bad very fast.
Carl laughs sarcastically, "If there were any walkers here, they would've come out by now." He storms back up the stairs, and once you can tell he's finally gone, you escape to the living room slowly, assisting Rick.
"Here, help me with the couch, let's prop it up against the door over here," You and Rick, both in pain from bullet wounds, push the couch against the door, making sure it's secured.
Collapsing on the couch heaving and aching all over, you and Rick sit next to each other, unaware of what to say. He places his head in his hands, leaning over the edge, "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with him, I-"
"Don't apologize for Carl, I don't know what's wrong with him either. I want to talk to him but every time I even try to get close, he just gets more and more pissed."
"Go upstairs and talk to him, I'll be down here on the couch, he can't really run away, Carl's probably more upset at me than you so he won't come downstairs," You nod, help get Rick get comfortable on the couch, and make your way to the staircase.
You walk up the stair slowly and cautiously, not wanting to screw anything up further between you and Carl. All of the doors were open upstairs except one... wonder which one he's in?
The door creaks as you swing it open, revealing Carl sitting on the bed, facing the wall. It was a teen boy's room by the looks of it, had a huge stack of video games, comic books everywhere, and, something a bit more out of place, a large bloodstain on the back wall. Ugh, the world is shit.
Lowering yourself onto the foot of the bed, Carl is suddenly aware of your presence. You see a different Carl that you know and have grown to love. Not the person who only a day ago would kiss you the second you stepped in a room, or help you reach corn on the top shelf, something's wrong. His eyes, that once had looked directly into your soul, his smile, that made everything else just melt away, were both gone.
"I-" you can't form the words, how do you ask someone who's home was just destroyed and family separated what was bothering them? You don't know, all you know is that you can't ask him now, "um... goodnight."
The setting sun shining through the window, burns into your back as you leave the room. You walk into the next bedroom over, a master, with the most comfortable looking bed you've seen in years.
You get a running start and leap onto the bed, getting swallowed by its massive comforter. You take off your outer layers and find some lighter clothes in the dresser. Getting comfortable under the sheets, you shield your wounded body from the chilly night air, fall should be coming soon, and that would not be fun.
Yet after a few seconds of a peaceful daze, the day's events sink in. Hershel is gone. Judith is probably dead. Everyone may as well be on opposite sides of the earth. Rick is practically dying. And Carl may as well be a walker. A pissed off, jackass of a walker. You cry.
You fall into a panic attack, becoming short of breath, and out of fear, stumble out of bed. For a while you have no idea what to do with yourself, between pacing in place and banging your head into the door's frame, you start to work up a sweat.
This is what happens when you care about people, you dig a hole even deeper and crash from even higher.
What only calms you down are Daryl's words, "Being alone is easy, but being with others is how you'll survive." This thought relaxes you for a short moment, but only until you realize that Daryl's gone now too.
You have to leave.
You have to get out of here as soon as you can, before Rick gets better and Carl gets tolerable again. Before you care about them again. Before you head out to look for the others who are obviously dead again. To have your heart broken again.
So quickly, you begin to scramble around, gathering together all of your, "shit!" You can't help but scream, immediately latching your hands over your mouth afterwards.
Still crying, you stumble to the wall against Carl's room, you can't go, you just...can't.
• Carl's POV:
Rain was crying too, I could tell. I heard her breaking shit in the other room, packing her things, but I didn't stop her.
My feelings and actions right now could not be explained, I didn't butt in because part of me was begging her to leave, but part of me knew and hoped she didn't have the guts to go. Maybe it wasn't that Rain didn't have the guts, I mean, damn, she's been through hell and back, but I just knew that she couldn't go. I knew because that's what I've been feeling too.
I hear her slam into the wall attached to mine, her back sliding down, hopefully calming down. Going against all of my instincts, I get out of bed and put my back against the same wall, her warmth somewhat resonating from the other room.
-
Wether it was the middle of the night or the early hours of the morning, I didn't care, I just knew that I was awake. And stupid. And angry. Really, really angry.
Trotting down the stairs, I only kept quiet not to disturb Rain, my dad, not so much. I looked down on him in disgust, he is weak, he is the reason we could die any day now.
"Wake up!" I scream at my father, unconscious, and unresponsive to screams, "Wake up!! Wake up, wake up, wake uppp!" Dad just lies there, the sun now peaking in from the window, rising over the roofs of nearby homes, shining light over his screwed up face.
I nearly jump out of my shoes when I hear scratching and banging on the wall. Damn walkers.
• Rain's POV:
You woke up in a sitting position, back leaned to the right against a wall. Looking yearningly at the bed in which you wished to have slept on, you get up, moaning, your back twisted from last night.
Slipping on fresh clothes from the dresser, you also find a new shirt and pair of pants for Rick, hopefully Carl found something he liked in the other room. Gathering your weapons and backpack, you run downstairs, the clothes folded neatly under your arm.
Carl walks in, slamming the front door behind him s you reach the stairs' last landing. Confused, you ask him, "Where where you?! Why didn't you wake me up?"
He ignores you, taking off his belt, and staring only at Rick, still on the couch, unprepared and unaware of what's coming his way next.
