[Carl Grimes x Female! Reader]
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Carl and (Y/n) met on her families farm when they were only 12. She was given the task to look after the young boy who had been shot, she was there when he woke up and a beautiful new friendship bl...
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It was dark in the library, due to the room not having many windows, the very few windows were covered with a thin material which acted like a curtain. Carol sat in the middle of the room on a closed chest, a book in hand as she read it to the group of children in front of her.
The children sat in a semi-circle around her on the floor, (Y/n) and Patrick sat in two chairs beside the nearby table. The girls eyes would constantly flicker between Carol, the man behind her and the door.
She began to fiddle with the hem of her flannel shirt, which acted as a jacket, occasionally letting her foot tap the floor as she counted down the seconds.
"The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and watched it melt slowly and pitilessly away," Carol readjusted the book in her hands, "Saw the half inch of wick stand alone at last. Saw the feeble flame rise and fall."
The man behind (Y/n) gestured towards Carol that he was going outside, mostly likely to attend to some other business due to his rising boredom. "Climb the thin tower of smoke. Linger at its top a moment and then..." The older woman's eyes followed the man's figure until he was out of the room completely. She waited a couple of seconds before slamming the book closed with a sigh.
"Ma'am, should I take watch now?" Luke, a young boy, one who was previously stood at the fence teasing the helpless walkers, asked. "Yes, Luke, you do that." Carol nodded her head, the curly haired boy eagerly shot up from his spot on the floor and made his way over to the door.
Whilst this happened, Carol opened the chest she was previously sitting on and pulled out another item, a smaller more compact one. It was a wooden crate with a checkered blanket inside, on top of the blanket were multiple different varieties of knives. Placing it down in front of her she spoke, "Today, we're talking about knives, how to use them, how to be safe with them, and how they could save your life."
"Ma'am, may I be dismissed?" Patrick asked rather hastily, his entire body was shaking and sweat trickled down his forehead to his neck and into his black shirt.
(Y/n) looked over at the boy in concern as Carol asked what was wrong, "I'm not feeling very well." Patrick responded, he gulped slightly and fiddled with his fingers.
"Sometimes you're gonna have to fight through it." The short haired woman stated, "What if you wind up out there alone? You just give up because you're feeling bad?"
The boy sighed and looked around, "No, it's just I don't want to yack on somebody." The girls in front of him shuffled away slightly. Carol sighed and allowed him to leave, Patrick stood up and began to walk away until (Y/n) grabbed his hand.
"Go and see my daddy, you don't look good at all and I want you to be alright." Patrick nodded his head and finally left the room. Once again, Carol watched him leave the room, she gave (Y/n) a reassuring look before continuing on with her lesson, "Okay, today we're gonna learn how to hold a knife, how to stab and slash and where to aim for."
As Carol demonstrated how to handle a knife she looked upwards, her eyes caught sight of something - or someone - behind the bookshelf's. Her eyes widened as her body froze, the children followed her gaze and caught sight of Carl. He stared at her with large eyes which traced over the countless knives she had.
"Please, don't tell you father." She begged, giving him pleading eyes. Carl stayed silent as he continued to look around the room, his eyes met (Y/n) who stared at him in surprise. The young boy looked back at the woman and shook his head before quickly leaving the room.
Carol gulped and looked over towards the (H/c) haired girl, "Would you—"
"Already on it." (Y/n) cut Carol off, standing up from her spot she quickly left the room in search for her brown haired counterpart.
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Night had fallen over the entire prison. Everyone had retired to their cells to begin their much needed slumber. However, in one particular cell block the silence was disturbed by a young boys coughing.
Patrick ripped open the curtain to his cell, his eyes wide, his body drenched in sweat. He began to stumble towards the bathrooms, his body occasionally hitting into walls as he repeatedly coughed up his lungs.
The young boy reached a water bucket in the bathroom, he began to pump the water slightly before reaching up to the metal shower head. He turned the nozzle which caused the water to pour all over him.
Patrick still let out pants and coughs as he tried to rid himself of the overwhelming heat which took over his body.
The only sound which echoed around the entire bathroom was the running of water. It was so loud that it muffled the thump of a body hitting the ground.
