↳ 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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Bowls of oatmeal topped with fresh apples or dry cereal is served for breakfast. I opt for a small bowl of oatmeal, making sure to put extra apples and a few dashes of cinnamon on top.
Once our meal is finished, everyone moves back to the living room to begin cleaning up the sleeping bags and rearranging the pillows on the couch and chairs.
Still in the same outfit as yesterday, I head out the door. The day is young, but the heat has already started to instill itself i to the air. It's not hot, but warm. It's comfortable. "They said explore," Rick remarks as he motions for everyone to walk off the porch and into the sun. Carl helps strap Judith into a stroller. She babbles delightfully. I'm glad someone is happy.
Carl and I take a different route than the others once we reach the pond. A few stop in the middle of the road, pointing to the water. I still make note of it, but we turn and stray from their path. "It's a nice day," Carl comments.
"It is." I look down to the stroller at Judith's face. She's focused on a colorful rattle in her hands as Carl pushes the cart along. "I'm happy you're here. It'd be way too lonely if I didn't have a friend," I say. I'd been thinking those words for so long, but I never knew the right time or way to say them.
"It's good to have you, too."
"I just feel like everyday, we're thrown into a completely new situation. We're forced to figure out our lives all over again. It feels more bearable when you have someone by your side that you don't need to figure out anymore. You know them. That's it. They know you, too. You don't have to explain anything to them or find a way to justify yourself. They get it. You can be who you want to be."
"I'm lucky to have you," Carl says. "You're the best post-apocalyptic friend anyone could ever ask for." The second sentence has pieces of sarcasm inside of it. I press my palm to my heart dramatically as if capturing his words in my hand.
"Same to you," I say, matching his sarcasm. We laugh for a moment as we round the corner, hanging a right. "By the way, it's about time they get Daryl hunting because I'm officially never eating SPAM again," I announce, adding a gag in between my words.
"It can't be that bad," Carl protests.
I shake my head. "Oh, it was that bad. I will never put a piece of that in my mouth ever again, let alone look at it." I pause. "Well, unless we find ourselves out there again." I point to the walls in front of us. "I guess I'd do about anything out there."
Just like that, we throw ourselves back into a rut of silence. Even when you're not in death's arms, abiding by death's very demanding rules, it feels like you're sitting in death's waiting room, ready at any moment for your name to be called. That's why you're on the edge of your seat, bouncing your knee up and down - you know there's nothing you should be scared of, but you're frightened all the same. Right now, death doesn't have its grip on me, but I'm waiting. We all are. You never truly escape it all. You never will.
