↳ 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 walk back to the other house. Daryl is still sitting on the porch. He watches me climb the stairs and stand across from him. I want to wipe the redness and puffiness from my eyes, but I have no choice but to let them linger. From the expression Daryl gives me, I can tell he notices it, but moves his attention back down to his knife.
I stop, standing across from him for a moment. I don't want to go inside. I know Carl's in there and I know I won't be able to make it past his door undetected again. Plus, there's nothing to do besides sit there and listen to my own thoughts.
"Have you explored yet?" I ask. Daryl shakes his head. "Do you want to?" He shakes it again. "Why?"
"There's no point," he replies gruffly. Maybe Carol was wrong about Daryl being swayed by these people. To me, he seems much more than skeptical. Daryl seems reluctant to even attempt an integration into Alexandria.
"You don't trust them?"
"Why should I?" He has a point. No matter how much convincing the people here have been trying to do, I still don't know how much of it is truthful.
"For right now, we have to stay here. You don't even want to look around a little?" Daryl looks up from his knife and stares me down.
"Fine. Are you going?" I nod. "Just a little bit." He swings his legs off of the railing and follows me down the stairs and onto the sidewalk. We walk together. I make sure to keep the pace slow as we both look around.
"I like that you don't trust these people," I speak honestly.
"Why?"
"I don't like them, either."
Daryl seems anxious as we walk. His eyes scan each direction seriously as if a threat is ready to harm us at any given moment. As we're nearing the front gate, chaos breaks out. Daryl extends an arm in front of me, pushing me to the side and behind him as if it will do anything in the means of protection.
"They killed our friend!" I hear an unfamiliar voice shout.
"Behind me," Daryl orders. He keeps moving forward, making sure I'm close by. I obey, annoyed that I'm still being treated like such a child, but maybe this is the moment Carol was referring to earlier. It would make perfect sense if it was because we've been settled down just long enough that they probably figured some of our suspicions had to have gone away without letting us deplete their supplies by keeping us alive for more than a few days.
I see a man standing very close to Glenn as we grow nearer. From the way he speaks and moves, I can tell he's getting in his face about something. When you get in someone's face about something, it usually means you're threatening them. I'm scared for Glenn.
