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Fix It All

Carl groaned as he began removing his flannel once Enid, Maggie, and he had gotten back to the infirmary.

"Need some help?" Enid offered.

"No, I'm fine," Carl declined as he sat on the white sheets of the bed. "Thanks."

Enid moved to a bed parallel to her long-haired friend. With both of their legs between the two beds, they talked, facing each other, legs slightly swinging.

"How's your head?" Enid asked. 

Before he had a chance to reply, Maggie announced that she would be upstairs if the pair needed anything. She ascended, and Carl continued.

"I think it's getting better, but I can't really tell. I can thank modern medicine for that," he commented. "I just wish that feeling better meant that I was better. Then maybe my dad would let me help find Judith."

Enid chewed on that a moment and watched her legs sway. "You have every right to be upset. She is your sister after all, but maybe you're needed back here for a different reason. Do you believe in fate?"

Carl's eyes widened at her words. This was the apocalypse where fate, destiny, or any other belief had to be put aside. There was no time for hypothetical questions or philosophical debates - only survival with loved ones. "I don't know what you mean," he claimed. 

She sighed. "Work with me here. Haven't you ever wondered who or what ultimately makes the decisions in our lives?"

"I guess."

The curious girl continued, "Well, my parents were Catholic and believed that God does things in our lives for a reason. Whether or not you believe that is up to you, but sometimes I think that odd situations happen for a specific purpose. Maybe those bandits in the woods attacked us so that you would be unable to go with Rick and possibly end up being in the right place at the right time."

The faded wallpaper of the infirmary seemed to scream in agreement at the words Enid spoke. The lights shone a bit brighter, and the dusty medical books on the bookshelves stacked across the room looked brand new. It was as if Carl had been looking through all of the possible explanations only to find the right one now.

"Perhaps you're right," the young man contemplated, trying to be optimistic, "but I still can't help but feel useless right now. I want to fix this."

Just then, Fawn and Michonne walked into the infirmary, wiping their boots on the mat as they finished a conversation they had. 

"And that's how we got to Alexandria," Michonne ended.

Enid and Carl both smiled at the pair.

"Denise, Tara, and Maggie are upstairs," Enid informed.

Michonne thanked them and proceeded to show Fawn to the upstairs of the house that doubled as the infirmary. Isn't it odd how an intimate conversation can be so quickly disrupted and thrown away like how a child finds delight in taking a forbidden cookie but tosses it as soon as someone walks into the kitchen? The teens' discussion quickly turned from a serious heart-to-heart to a light-hearted chat. They remembered stories from when they were young and laughed at embarrassing moments that they'd experienced. Their troubles melted away as they relived the past together. About an hour later, everyone who'd been upstairs walked down the steps and into the open room.

"Rick should be ready to go now," Michonne stated. "Thank you for the supplies, Denise."

Michonne slung two backpacks over her shoulders and picked up a duffel bag, all filled with supplies that the offensive team would need.