Our Life (Sequel to "Remnants")

Heart

-Carl-

"Riley!" I called, following him at a reasonable distance as he entered his home, paying very little attention to me or anyone else who asked him what was wrong.

He's been like this before. He's fine with killing dead, inhuman creatures - but slaughtering the living really traumatizes him...

Still, if someone can console him, that someone will be me.

He slammed the front door shut behind him, sliding across the locking latch. Having dealt with situations like this before, I knew from experience that knocking on the door and begging for him to open it would prove futile - instead, I would have to find another way in and confront him directly, where we could have a civilized, uninterrupted conversation.

Fortunately, finding a way in wasn't too difficult, since Riley had made no attempt to lock the back door, and as I result I was easily able to enter the living room, where Riley sat staring at the overcast sky through the window.

"Ri," I began, sitting on the chair beside his.

He didn't acknowledge my presence, and I tried to get his attention in a slightly more physical manner, trying to place a hand on his shoulder for comfort.

That apparently was not a good move either, since he responded by forcing it away. His behavior reminded me too much of my own - I would constantly snap at my dad, when all he was trying to do was help me.

"Sorry," Riley apologized with a sigh, "there's, uh... Blood on that shoulder."

I hadn't noticed that until now. It was hard to see, since he wore a garnet-colored hoodie, but I identified a large streak of blood which ran from his right shoulder to his torso.

"It's... Christ, it's not..." he breathed heavily, and I noticed tears forming in his pained eyes, "it's not mine."

I reached over and gently tugged his other shoulder, gradually pulling him toward me.

At first he resisted, pushing firmly but not violently against me, but I insisted, and he eventually relented, accepting my soothing embrace.

"He had a... a wife, and... he was an old man, Carl, he... he wasn't bad or, or nothing, he was just..."

He finally released his tears, sobbing into the crook of my neck. I felt a tear trickle down my chest as his hands gripped tightly against the back of my shirt. Killing humans just seemed to really... screw with Riley's mentality, and I could not avert what battles he fought in his mind. All I could do was try to help him along the way. His crying continued for about half a minute, before a disheveled Riley finally regained his composure.

"Sorry," he swallowed hard, having finally released his emotional burden, releasing from the embrace to meet my eyes, "today's just..."

"Riley," I smiled softly, wiping a stray tear that clung to his cheek, "it's fine. You did what you had to do, that was all. Old man or not, the fact of the matter is that he tried to kill you, and you protected yourself. I'm glad you did, because..."

I stopped for a moment, unsure of what exactly to say next. Riley looked at me intently, and after a moment of thought I finally finalized my sentence.

"Because otherwise he would've killed you, and I don't want to live in a world that doesn't have you in it."

Riley smiled at that, and that smile extended into a grin after a few moments. His smile was humorously contagious, and we were both grinning like utter idiots after just a matter of seconds.

This grin didn't last, however, since it was clear by his expression that Riley had reflected on the previous events of the day.

"Carl," Riley began, his grin fading into a somber smile, "I'm sorry."

No more words...

I placed one hand softly against the side of his face, and my other upon one of his that rested on the arm of the chair. Then, I leaned over toward him, allowing my lips to gently touch his.

It was only intended to be a short yet loving gesture, but then something clicked in the both of us, and it became much more than that.

Before I knew it, Riley was gripping my hand tightly in his, our interaction rapidly becoming more heated. Riley kissed me harder, and I competed to match this gesture, as we both battled for dominance in the fierce moment.

After a few seconds he clambered over onto my chair, straddling my waist.

I breathed deeply as Riley settled himself on my lap, leaning in to kiss me once again, the heat of his breath tickling my skin before his hands began to toy with the buttons of my shirt.

It was very rare that our 'moments' became this fierce, but I could not deny that I loved it when they did.

I showed this involuntarily with a smirk as Riley's hands moved from button to button, his lips still locked against mine. Eventually, my shirt was undone, and Riley assisted me in sliding it off of my body, placing his surprisingly cold hands against the warm skin of my torso.

I shivered at the sensation as Riley parted from our heated kiss to stare deeply into my eyes, his hand softly moving across my skin until it rested gently upon my heart, which beat rapidly.

"It's this," he began, motioning to where his hand was placed, "what I live for. It's this what I kill for - even if I don't want to. This is one screwed up world, Carl, and it's you that makes all of this bearable."

I leaned forward to kiss him once more, when at that moment a familiar figure entered the room, having used the back door as I had done.

"Oh God," Michonne yelped upon discovering us, stumbling backwards out of the door.

"Sorry, sorry," she stammered, "Jeez, I keep forgetting you guys've got hormones now!"

Riley and I chuckled, smirking like 5 year old children who'd just been caught doing something they shouldn't.

"When you're finished, we're having a meeting outside - deciding whether or not these 'runs' we keep going on are still good ideas. I'm guessing you'll both wanna have a say."

We both nodded, still amused, as Michonne left the room.

"Why's it always her that walks in on us?" Riley whined with a smirk.

"Could be worse," I remarked, "it could've been Daryl."