walsh ❈ carl grimes gay

seven.

"Moving again?"
I groan.

"Imagine how everyone else feels, son, they've been here for awhile."

"I don't really care."
I say.
"To be honest..."

"Yeah, I don't either."
Carter shrugs.

"The one time I try to have a different outlook on life, y'all wanna play the Walsh card?"

"Daddy, I don't wanna go."

"It is a run, Sage."
He huffs.
"Put your clothes in your bag!"

"Negan isn't gonna appreciate Commander Queen."

"I don't appreciate Negan."

"How many shirts do I take?"

"Buddy, just take three."
Carter says.
"It's only gonna be a couple of days."

"Just put your goddamn clothes in the bag and sit down!"

"Don't yell at him, Shane, he doesn't go on runs, he doesn't know how they work."

"And that's my fault?"

"Yes, dumbass!"
Carter scoffs.
"You put him in the corner like a toddler."

Daddy scratches the tip of his ear and looks at me.
"You get your socks, bubba?"

I stand there, pursing my lips.
"...Three pairs."

"Okay."
I nod.
"Now I do."

After another hour and a half of packing, Daddy grabbed my hand and led me outside with Carter right behind us. It was really dark outside, so the only light we had was from the dim street lights.

"Daddy, what if I don't do good?"

"You're a Walsh, you'll do great."

"Okay..."
I sigh, nodding even though he couldn't see me.
"What color is your shirt?"

"You wanna take a guess?"

"Red."

"And black"
He says.
"Good job."

"I've been practicing."

We walk up to the tall man who was named Commander Queen. He stood confident with great posture and a puffed out chest.

"Name?"

"Shane Walsh."

"And the boy?"

"Sage Walsh."

The man in the hat clears his throat and opens the door to an armored truck.

"Let's go."

Once we were inside the vehicle, no one was speaking. I was sandwiched between daddy and Carter, so I felt safe and protected, but it was still a little eerie because I didn't know anyone else.