Carl Grimes Imagines

Imagine: Sleepless Night

You were pretending to sleep--you both were.

With your backs facing each other, you stared into the dark atmosphere around you. Trying to forget.

Trying to forget the two people who died only a week ago. The two people who you couldn't believe were just... Gone.

There was a tightness in your chest waiting to be let out, but you kept it in, allowing it to escape through a few silent tears that rolled across your face. It was painful to think about their deaths--the way Negan brutally killed them. A bat to the head, not stopping until their brains were a mushy puddle on the ground.

Blinking, you tried to collect yourself, knowing that you should be sleeping like the rest of Alexandria. But you knew that nobody was; Maggie wasn't, Rick wasn't, and Carl surely wasn't. You could feel it behind you. The question was if you should say something, although it was nothing he already knew.

Would it be awkward? you thought, thinking of what he would most likely say. What would you even say? 'Why aren't you sleeping?'

You knew that Carl was slowly drifting away from you, gravitating towards something you knew you were already against. Even if you didn't know what it was yet. Since the deaths--murders--of Glenn and Abraham, you could feel the change in Carl, notice it in the way he sometimes got lost in thought, a lot of the times ignoring you. You were worried and had before thought it best to leave him to figure it out on his own, but now found it a plan failed.

"Carl?" you dared to whisper. Your voice was a knife to glass, shattering the fragile silence. There was no response. "I know you're awake."

You could feel him shift beside you, and when you turned to look at him, he was facing towards the ceiling. He reminded you of a mummy in a glass casing, still and silent save for the breaths that made his chest rise and fall.

"So?" he said. "Why does it matter?"

Your eyes tried to connect with his, but throughout the time you tried, his were always attracted to the ceiling. Avoiding.

There was continued silence once again, one that you couldn't bear. It was impossible to find words for him, all of them seemed like useless antidotes to his changed self.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you whispered. You sat up in the bed, curling your legs to rest your chin upon.

"No," he retorted. "I don't."

"You can't just avoid it. It's been a week and a half and you haven't even mentioned it. That's not healthy, Carl," you tried to reason, placing a hand gently on his arm.

He jerked away as if he'd been poisoned from your touch. "I don't give a shit if it's not healthy. It's none of your business how I feel. It's personal."

"And you don't think it's personal to me too?" your voice gradually rose, not caring about Judith, Michonne, or Rick who also occupied the house. "I care how you feel. Why wouldn't I? Why wouldn't I want to know if you're okay?"

"We're not talking about this right now," Carl grumbled, turning on his side towards the other side of the room. You pursed your lips. Your heart was aching for him--you loved him, but you were worried. Maybe even scared, but that part was in vain.

Would he be okay? When would he get out of the funk he was in? Why was he being like this? He knew you loved him, but you didn't know if he was still loving you. That was the pain that started to escape through the cracks in your heart.

"Then when can we? You hardly ever talk to me anymore since--"

"Don't say it," he hissed, startling you by abruptly sitting up, his eyebrow furrowed. "There's nothing to talk about. Glenn and Abraham are dead. It's done."

"No it's not, you can't just push this aside!" You faced him, pointing a finger to his chest. "You and I both know you are not okay. I'm worried about you, but you don't seem to give a damn about this." your voice ended with a whisper, yet it was all the more powerful.

"There's nothing to say because it's none of your business, (Y/N). Stop trying--it's pathetic," he sneered, finally--once again--laying back down on the bed, facing away from you.

You were infuriated at how stubborn he was being; saddened at how distant he had really become. It felt as if your heart had taken a dive into the depths of your stomach.

Slowly, you laid back down, eyes not leaving the ceiling. There was a burning behind your eyes, a blur in the vision, until you shut them. Tears slipped through the cracks, rolling down the sides of your face.

There was a different sort of sadness that overwhelmed you, except the tears were for a different reason than before. These were for Carl.

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I wrote this MONTHS ago though I never posted it. It's actually really good, I hope you liked it :)

~ The Author