Carl Grimes Imagines

Imagine: Talks

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"I'm gonna have to cut short today," you told Maggie after you sat down beside her on the adjacent metal chair in her kitchen.

You'd been helping her for quite some time because of her pregnancy that limited her. You didn't mind at all, it gave you something useful to do with your extensive time, and it gave you a purpose for someone. And that wasn't something that you were before.

Maggie had her chocolate hair cut short to her temples, and the large baby bump had already made itself the star of the show. Since Maggie was kind to you, and you were willing to attend to her needs, you helped her almost everyday, wether she needed it or not. On the times she didn't, she kept you company. It was something you wouldn't have if you stayed cooped up in your house, a typical uneventful day for you.

"That's fine, I wouldn't need much help today. Wasn't planning on much," she reasoned, her country accent still thick on her tongue.

You stared at your hands that rested on the table top. People were heading out to a pharmacy today, someplace far, but also a place that promised the items the infirmary needed. Every time that people went, the ones who knew how to fight, who were smart, needed, you felt useless. And you were in those situations, you didn't deny that. But there was always a longing, tugging feeling that sank to the bottom of your stomach in those days, the feeling of uselessness. You weren't allowed to help in the ways that others were, others like Rick, Glenn, and Daryl (Alexandria's most needed people) could. And it pained you that when your society was in need of something, you couldn't do anything to provide it for them. You couldn't fight or properly use a weapon, it was a weakness to you.

"What would you be doing?" she asked, and you were in such a deep part of your mind, that you almost didn't hear her, even though she was right next to you.

You stood up on the tile, going to the sink for a glass of water. You were slightly embarrassed to admit it, but Maggie was a good person, and she wouldn't laugh at you for your reasons. "Carl's gonna teach me how to fight."

You were slightly nervous for later that day, not because you would be around weapons, but because you'd be spending more time with Carl. You had a strong feeling towards him, one that you tried to hide from him as much as possible because you knew for a fact that he didn't feel the same way. The only thing that hurt worse than the inability to serve for Alexandria and liking Carl Grimes when his feelings aren't mutual, is rejection. If he knew about your feelings and he disapproved you for it, ruining your friendship, you'd be devastated.

"You don't know how?" Maggie asked, and even though you couldn't see her, you could hear the mild disbelief in her voice.

You couldn't help silent agreement that formed inside of you. Most survivors of the apocalypse knew how to fight, or at least knew how to handle a weapon. It was a strong burden towards you because you were a survivor who lacked a mandatory skill. You hadn't been out in the world for long at the start of the apocalypse because you had people to support you, and after them, walls to block out the harsh reality.

Carl was very well your only hope, he was understanding because you knew he'd been in your situation before, even though he was at a much younger age at the time. It would be stupid if you to not reach out to him.

"Not to be rude, but how old are you?" Maggie questioned. It may have sounded as if she was surprised that at your age you couldn't defend yourself, but it was anything but.