Carl Grimes Imagines

Imagine : Closer (Part 2)

When you woke, it was sudden.

The first thing you saw was the white of an unfamiliar ceiling. The atmosphere was silent, save for the disruptive ticking of a clock somewhere in the room. When you brought yourself to attempt to sit up to observe your surroundings, a slice of pain crossed over your rib cage, leaving you breathless at the agony.

Oh my God, you thought.

You had fallen right on your back, but this time you clenched your teeth as you slowly sat up. This time, successfully, with a grimace to your features.

You recognized the place you were in--it was the infirmary. You assumed Denise took you in, the doctor of Alexandria who had recently taken one large scaring once an arrow had whizzed past her head. You remembered her as the one who saved Carl, and the one who healed Daryl once he got one of his arrows that a Savior shot stuck in his shoulder.

Very slowly and cautiously, you pushed yourself off the bed you had used, clutching your stomach and creating soft grunts. As you stood up, you realized how weak your legs had grown. It was hard to stabilize yourself because of the jelly your legs seemed to be made from.

As you took in your surroundings, you noticed a body on the other side of the room. At first you were horrified that it could be dead, but you soon came to realize what it's name was. He was Rick.

Covered in the thin white sheet, it was unmistakable. From afar, you could see the fresh white bandage that wrapped around his left shoulder, and his head that was covered in the same material. You gulped hard, realizing that you all had managed to somehow get released from Negan's grasp.

Your head was swooning, nausea taking hold of your mind and sinking into the pit of your stomach. Instead of settling gently back on your bed as you planned, you ended up falling on top of it, your side exploding in pain as it hit the surface with a thump.

You stayed in that position for a while, waiting for the pain to die down.

--

Three days later you were able to go back to your house, you needed rest, but all you wanted to do was see Carl. He didn't visit you and you never saw him at the side of Rick's bed.

In honesty, you were worried about him. Probably more than you've ever been before. Being in your house all
day and night wasn't helping.

It was when you first stepped outside to sit down on your porch to soak in the sun that you've been in hiding from for over a week that you noticed the note. It was wedged in your doorway and fluttered to the ground once you opened it.

Clutching your side wearily, you knelt down to pick up the tattered, half sheet of notebook paper. On it was messy handwriting written in blue ink, and once you red the words, your stomach flipped with nervousness.

You didn't want to waste any time doing what the note required, especially since you seemed to have waited a lifetime for this. You quickly jumped off your porch and broke out in a jog, ignoring Denise's instructions of bed rest and no exercise.

Meet at my house - Carl.

--

Your jog had slowly turned into a weak gallop once you were outside his front door. You knocked hard and eagerly four times before stepping aside, waiting for the door to open.