total eclipse of the heart - carl grimes

IV

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iv.

the fundamentals of caring
"it's the only reason we're here"

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We're tearing down the road, the rain hammering against the windshield, the truck's engine humming beneath us. My heart's still racing, a mix of adrenaline and panic that I'm trying to push down. I can't believe we just stole a Savior's truck. Every muscle in my body is tense, half-expecting them to come roaring up behind us at any second.

I glance at Mary, whose hands list over the wheel like she's done this her whole life. "How the hell did you learn to drive?"

She glances over, eyes flicking between me and the road. "My dad taught me. We used to practice up and down the street in front of our house, back when—" She trails off, like finishing the sentence is too hard, and I get it. Back when things were normal, back before her world fell apart.

I nod, not pushing for more. It feels weird, thinking about her with a dad. Not just a dad, but her dad. I never knew him, not really but I remember seeing him around. I remember my dad telling me that he beat his family. I remember the way she'd flinch anytime I moved too quickly or spoke too loud. I remember the old burn scar down her chest from spilled coffee. I remember how her right arm didn't really work properly because it'd been pulled from the socket one too many times. Even now, in these past few days, I've noticed how stiff it hangs at her side. I wonder if it still hurts.

She changes the subject, one of her favorite things to do. "You ever driven before?"

I shake my head, staring out the rain-blurred window as the wipers slick them clean for a moment before the downpour mars them once more. "No. Never really had the chance."

"Wanna try?"

I raise an eyebrow, unsure. Driving? But there's something about the offer that tempts me. I shrug, trying to seem casual. "Yeah, sure. Pull over."

I'm expecting her to stop and get out, maybe swap seats the normal way, but instead, she gives me this look and then climbs over me. Just like that, without hesitation. Doesn't even apply the breaks. Her knees brush against me as she moves, and suddenly her whole body is over mine, pressing against me as she slides to the passenger side. One hand still on the wheel, one foot still on the gas.

I freeze for a second, the warmth of her through our soaked clothes catching me off guard. I can't help but inhale sharply as I quickly scoot out from under her, trying to hide whatever stupid thoughts just crossed my mind.

I get behind the wheel, gripping it tight as Mary releases it and settles into the passenger seat like nothing's happened. The seat's still warm from her body, and I can't shake the weird mixture of nerves and anger bubbling up in me.

"You just climb over people like that?" I mutter, trying to mask the unease in my voice.

She shrugs, leaning back and staring out at the rain. "You're fine, Carl. Now drive."

I fumble with the pedals, the truck lurching forward before I get a grip on it. My hands are clenched tight around the steering wheel, and I can feel Mary watching me from the passenger seat. I don't even look at her. "I'll figure it out."

And I do. Slowly. The truck finally smooths out, and we're rolling down the road, the tires sloshing through puddles.

"Well done."

I scoff, keeping my eye on the road. "We'll probably make it to Hilltop in the next half hour or so."

There's a pause. "You're welcome."