𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐡 | 𝐂. 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

𝟣5

An alarm rang, causing the sound of its ringing to fill Blake's ears as he stirred around in his bed, growing frustrated at the noise. He grabbed his pillow and planted it on the back of his head as he lay facedown, burying his face in the mattress, hoping to drown the obnoxiously loud noise out. He suddenly wished he wasn't sleeping on the top bunk, not bothered to make an effort to reach down and try and kill the sound, resorting to Carl doing the work for him, hoping he'd deal with the sound considering it was right beside him. The two boys did not stay up late reading comic books as they were too exhausted from the previous night of staying up, so Blake had some hope that Carl might not be sleeping in like usual.

Carl groggily and lazily reached for the button to turn the alarm off, eyes still closed with his arms dangling off the side of the bed. Blake let out a relieved sigh once he heard the painful ringing come to an end, adjusting himself to get comfortable again, hoping he could lay in bed for an extra hour, even though he knew that his duties of helping Rick started early in the morning. The parallel reminded him of when he used to wake up early for school and how much he loathed the morning routine for years on end, never getting used to it. "Carl, Blake," Rick whispered, peaking through their door which was nothing more than a large piece of cloth blocking the doorframe, providing the two the privacy they needed. Upon hearing no answer nor experiencing any reaction from the two boys as they lay there sleepily, Rick spoke a little louder which brought some reaction upon hearing their names being called.

The two boys with their messy bed hair slowly peeked their heads up to look over to Rick, curious to know what was going on as the two felt somewhat disoriented; needing a moment for their brains to fully wake up. The man glanced at the two of them, holding their sister in hand as he nodded in a whisper to "come on", followed by letting the fabric fall back and giving the two some privacy as Rick retreated away from their cell once he was sure the two were awake. Blake took a moment to wake himself up, trying to fight the urge to lay in bed a little longer. He found it amusing how prison beds were never that comfortable, yet the same feeling of reluctance to leave a bed—no matter the bed—is universal. He was the first to get up, sitting up and rubbing his eyes alongside stretching a little. He peaked his hand down to check if Carl was still sleeping in or not. Blake climbed down, wearing nothing but a white tank top and some blue boxer briefs while rummaging through their tiny drawer of mixed clothes. He needed to remember to request Michonne to bring back a fan the next time she goes on a trip. Yawning a little, he separated his clothes from Carl's, making sure he was wearing his clothes and not Carl's.

He heard a snicker, followed by legs stirring against the bedding which caused the boy to turn around. "I can see your crack, do you mind putting some pants on?" He pointed out shamelessly, causing a blush to form on Blake's cheeks out of embarrassment. The boy, visibly sweaty had a smile and a hand covering his face, turning around so he wasn't facing Blake anymore. He didn't bother responding, simply grinning a little and shaking his head. "We need to get a fan for this furnace of a room," he mumbled, realizing he had no shorts either, just pants. Sighing quietly in annoyance, he began to change into the clothes that appeared the cleanest. He really needed to get most of his clothes clean. "Carl," he called out after a moment, walking over to his bed and shaking the boy. "Your turn." The boy let out a yawn, eyes still closed as he turned over towards Blake, slowly sitting up and resting his back against the wall. Rubbing his eyes, he slowly let his feet dangle off the edge while he took his time letting his body fully wake up.

"Careful out there," Rick called out towards Michonne who was a few feet away, holding the reins of her horse as it walked beside her. "Always am," she confidently stated, turning to the two boys beside Rick. "Any requests? Books? Comics? Some stale M&M's?" She asked the two, causing the boys to grin as they glanced at each other. Blake spoke up, looking back at her. "A fan would be a godsend," he groaned, still feeling some of the sweat linger on his body from last night; the sun's heat radiating down on him not helping one bit. He planned to shower once he was done helping out with Rick; deciding it was best to get dirtier and then clean rather than the other way round. Michonne was a little surprised by the request, but nodded, a grin on her face as she looked over at Carl. "Since Blake pointed out the need, I'll point out the want and it's not stale M&M's," he grinned, looking over towards Michonne as the group walked down the gravel path, toward the prison gates. "Seriously, how can you like those Michonne?" Blake asked, visibly disgusted at the thought of eating expired M&M's, astonished Michonne didn't mind one bit. "Stomach of steele, Blake, the stomach of steele," she mumbled, a cocky grin on her face as she looked ahead. "I'll definitely be looking for some," she laughed after a moment; it was no secret Michonne enjoyed seeing Blake and Carl's reaction as she downs the M&M's with no negative reaction, despite their age.