↳ it's who we are now...
oc x carl grimes
season 4-7
TW: Mentions of death, gory depictions, suicide, alcohol and drug abuse, language, smoking, violence, depression, and other mature topics.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own or claim to own any of The Walk...
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I used to dream of my parents. I used to dream of my old house and swinging on the worn tire swing while my hair danced in the precarious breeze. Now, I dream of the prison and it's walls and metallic fencing that eventually became home to me. Along with this, I dream of the faces I will never see again. I see Maggie, who is then followed by a glimpse of Glenn. Things shift as I find myself in a dark room, the only yellowish lighting coming from an unknown source around me and hardly illuminating anything. I squint through the shadows as soon as I see a figure on the other side of the room and instinctively head in its direction. I need to. As I get closer, I know who it is.
"Daryl?" my sore voice croaks. Somehow, he hears me, turning around to reveal his face in the shadows of the cold room. I hadn't remembered it being cold, but I suppose it is. I watch as his figure hunches, arms open to give me a hug. He's crouching down to meet my height, a small smile brimming his lips. Before I can process anything, I'm hurried in his direction, my legs carrying me along. As soon as I reach him with my arms extended to accept his embrace, however, whatever made him up before is no longer existent. He dissolves into a cloud of dust that swirls in thick tendrils around me. I feel myself trying to scream, but no sound comes out while I fall to the ground, my surroundings becoming blurry and eventually fading away into nothingness.
Next, I dream of the quiet nook in the library where I used to duck and keep to myself with a book in my lap. I dream of the fenced-in field that was both so open, yet so closed up as the golden rays of sun warmed my face from above.
When I open my eyes it's all gone.
I hear another voice. I turn to see Rick, who's sitting up, his back to the couch with Carl by his side, both of them sitting on the floor. I sit up slowly, hoping that my screams in my dreams were audible to them. My back is slightly sore, but I'm sure a little stretching will fix it up right away. I don't know what to say as I rub the sleep from my crusted eyes. The main thing I'm focused on at the moment is the fact that Rick is alive and he's awake.
"Good morning," he says with a grin.
"How are you feeling?" I ask as quickly as possible, needing to know. I've spent plenty of time worrying about him and I'd love to not have to spend anymore. He deserves some time being pain-free.
"I'm fine." Of course, I think fine is a bit of a stretch. Anybody could determine that from giving him a single once-over. Then again, I'm content with him at least having the mindset to feel that way. I think that's all Rick's gonna say when he continues. "You're the one that's been shot." I had forgotten about it for a split second. Last night, the pain had subsided enough to ignore it as I went to sleep. I'm surprised it didn't come to haunt me in my dreams. Luckily, it seems to still be pretty manageable now. I hope it stays that way. I don't know what I'll do if it doesn't.
