Natural Born Leader (Carl Grimes x OC)

Chapter Six: Carl Grimes

Rick leads us down a long path and then to a large house, holding the door for us while we walk inside.  I keep my eyes on all of the kids, making sure that they're all still there and okay.

"You all can sleep on the floor for now.  I'll get some blankets and pillows for everyone," Rick says.

Someone comes down the stairs.  He's got longish brown hair and blue eyes that match Rick's.  He seems to be around my age.

Some of the kids in my group freeze in the middle of sitting on the floor, staring at this new stranger.  I stop moving as well, hand flying to where my gun sit at my waistband.

"Woah, hey, it's alright.  This is Carl, my son," Rick clarifies, holding out his hands in a defensive gesture.

"Who are these people dad?" The kid - Carl - says, his eyes going straight to me.

"The group of kids I've been talking about.  It's alright, they haven't done anything." Rick pulls a chair from a table and sits down.  "Will you go get some blankets and pillows for these kids, Carl?"

Carl tears his eyes away from me to nod at his dad.  He leaves the room.

While the others settle down their stuff and start getting comfortable, I walk over to Rick, hands on my hips.

"Y'know, you're gonna need to be cleaned up before tomorrow morning.  Appearances and everything," Rick says to me, talking about my blood stained clothes.

"Appearances?" I question.  It's the apocalypse.  Blood everywhere is normal.

"Deanna is the real person in control of everything around her.  You kids will have to speak to her tomorrow to see whether you'll be able to stay if not." Rick glances at me, trying to figure out my reaction.  "You'll most likely be the one talking to her.  Do you usually lead this group?"

"I do," I answer.  "Do you guys... have working showers?" If they do, this might truly have been the right decision for us tonight.

Rick laughs lightly.  "We do.  I'll show you and your other bloody friends to the showers."

"No," I say quickly, understand that going to the showers means I can't keep an eye on the kids.  "Take the others.  We cannot all go at once."

Rick has a look of understanding on his face.  "Alright." A beat.  "What's your name?"

"Ashtyn." I don't give him my full name, for fear that might give him some imaginary power over me.

The boy Carl walks back in, carrying a whole arms full of pillows and blankets. "Alright, Ashtyn. Bring me three people and I'll take them to the showers in this house. You can talk to my son in the meantime." Rick stands up.

"Kai, Naomi, and Rodrigo come here," I call, beckoning them over to Rick and me. They walk over, all of them having a cautious demeanor. "Rick is going to show you the showers." I look the three of them in the eyes, making sure they know to call for me if anything goes wrong.

They leave through a doorway, Kai spiking up conversation with Rick on the way.

I go back over to the kids and watch Carl handing out the different bedding. His movements are gentle, as if he's used to working with kids and knowing how one movement can set them off. My group probably has the toughest children out there, but they still revert back to their natural childish manner a lot. One moment they could be taking down a group of walkers, using weapons that wouldn't be available to them in the real world until they were eighteen, and the next moment they'll cry because their blanket is too itchy. I think it gets tiring for the older ones to have to constantly be watching over the younger ones, but in the end it's worth it. We really are just one big family.

Carl hands out the last pillow and turns his body to face me. "I'm Carl," is all he says. He holds out his hand for me to shake, just like his father did. I miss having a father. Or any blood family.

I shake his hand, the blood on my skin now too dry to leave any marks. "Ashtyn." There's an awkward moment of silence where we don't let go of each other's hands for some reason. I let go first.

"Where did you guys even come from?" Carl struggles to ask the question, telling me that he's got lots more to inquire me about.

"We were about three miles away from here," I answer.

"Really? I'm surprised we hadn't found your group on a supply run. How long have you been just three miles away?" Carl seems intrigued.

"About a month. We travel a lot." I'm trying to give up the least amount of information I can, but it feels nice to talk to someone my age outside of my group. Like a breath of fresh air.

"How old is everyone?" Carl's eyes shift from mine over to Lulu, who's asleep on Fernanda's lap.

"Linee, Kai, and I are all sixteen. Jeremy is fifteen. Rodrigo and Fernanda are fourteen. Naomi thirteen. Kendra twelve. Jaxon's eleven. Talia, Elena, and Lina are triplets at ten. Malik's eight. Rachel's a year younger than him. Jesse is second youngest at five and Lulu is two." I think about what Linee told me only a few hours ago. We could very well have a newborn on our hands in a few months.

"Wow," he states, in awe. "How have y'all survived this long?"

I shrug, slightly angry that he seems to be thinking that we're all weaklings. In my eyes, kids are probably stronger than most adults these days.

Someone taps me on the shoulder and I almost flinch. It's just Kai. "You, Linee, and Jeremy can go up and take showers now. We're all back down." Kai's hair is wet and he's got a fresh set of clothes on, something I haven't seen in a long time.

I nod. "Nice to meet you, Carl." I give Carl a stiff smile and follow Kai through a doorway after Kai motions Linee over.

Kai leads us to different bathrooms with showers and I step inside the bathroom, closing and locking the door. Everything is quiet in this bathroom. Strange. Feels like I haven't heard true silence in over a decade. I see a new set of clothes sitting on the floor near the door and I strip myself of the clothes I have on. The person I see looking back at me in the mirror looks unreal. Blood is splattered across my face, mixing with the redness of the scar on my nose. Bruises and small cuts litter my body. My knees are scraped up and ache from the constant walking I do everyday. 

I sigh, turning on the shower.  I search through my bag for some rubbing alcohol.  Once I find it, I clean some of the larger scrapes on my body, hoping to stop infection.

Once I'm done, I step into the shower and close the curtain, soaking up all of the warm water.  I didn't realize how cold I was from the harsh winter air.  My bones feel as if they're rusty and I use the shampoo, conditioner, and soap in the shower to fully clean myself.  I almost want to fall asleep right where I stand.

I wonder if this place is actually safe for the kids.  I know I would do anything to protect them, but I'm scared for the day where I am no longer here or something happens to me and I can't.  I'm determined to not let anything hurt these children.

My mind shifts.  In the back of my head, I'm always focused in on one thing.  My mission from the beginning, before everything went to complete shit.  My dad.  I can't help but feel that I'm my own parent now, but it's always worth a try.  Someday I hope to figure out what at least happened to him.  Maybe he turned into a walker.  Maybe he joined a group.  Maybe he killed himself.  Got arrested again.  Found another little girl to take care of.  I physically bite my tongue to stop myself from thinking about that last possibility.  There's no way he's fully abandoned me.  He's got to still be looking.

I'll find you, Daryl Dixon.