A bond where a father dies, but the son lives on, carrying the guilt of his father over the damage done to his best friend's father. Playing the hero, the son severed ties and a best friend's trust. As he tried to mend the damages done, he also tryi...
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"I can't believe Patrick's gone, I mean... he was just fine the other day..." Blake started, sitting on the metal benches with his head resting against his hand, watching as Carl was kneeling against the dull, gray concrete flooring, hammering nails against wooden planks in the shape of a cross. Carl simply nodded, appearing unphased and emotionless over the mention of Patrick's demise, which raised questions in Blake's mind. Was this Carl's way of coping with the loss? H knew many people coped in different ways, and it might've been because they weren't really close to the boy, he didn't make much of an emotional impact. "People die nowadays. It's just the way it is," he mumbled, causing Blake to furrow his eyebrows a little. "I mean, yeah, but so unexpectedly, just like that? I guess it's a wake-up call that walkers and people aren't the only things we should worry about..."
He heard footsteps against the metal steps, a failed attempt at staying quiet as the two boys' attention turned towards the staircase to see Carol standing there, hand gripping the railing as she looked towards them. Walking over, she seemed more interested in Carl as she headed towards his direction. Carl resumed his work, grabbing a nail from the box. "You know if Patrick was Catholic?" He asked, sitting up and turning towards the woman while holding up the cross he had made. The woman shifted her weight onto one leg and responded, "he said he was a practicing atheist." Sighing, he set the cross down and grabbed the hammer, and used the backside to remove the plank that was nailed perpendicular, voiding any sort of religious affiliation from the tomb marker.
Amongst the sounds of the wooden planks moving around echoing in the cell block, Carol toyed with one of the nails lying on the table, attention briefly focused there as she asked, "did you tell your dad what you saw in the library yesterday?"
"Nope," was Carl's simple reply. After a long pause, Carol continued by asking, "are you going to tell him?" Blake caught Carol's glance towards him as well, deciding he should add something to the conversation. "We've been talking about it," he nodded to the woman. "We haven't really reached an agreement though." In a way, he understood why Carl was so double-minded about whether or not he should tell his father. He agreed with what Carol was doing but knew she was breaking the rules. Blake, on the other hand, knew the right thing would be to tell, even if Rick wouldn't understand. However, if Blake was being honest, he wasn't agreeing on much with Rick's decisions, such as neglecting the growing concern of walkers against the fences, the lack of weapon usage or training, and not letting Carl have his gun back. Carol was looking out for the kids and understood that in this new world, learning about survival was important. This safe zone shouldn't act like they were safe, even with these fences, even if the Governor was gone for months, even if things had been peaceful for a while.
Carl, on the other hand, ignored the woman's question, letting the silence linger. Carol took the opportunity to explain herself, hoping to help justify her reasoning and allow Carl to feel comfortable with his decision to keep it a secret from his father. "I have to keep teaching those kids how to survive, you know that." Carl glanced back at her before focusing back on his work, asking, "did you tell their parents?" Shaking her head, she answered, "no." He looked back at her, visibly annoyed, and asked, "are you going to tell them?"
