Hope || Glenn Rhee x Reader

15 || steps

You, Rick, Shane, and Carl wandered the woods to look for Sofia. It wasn't long before you came across a deer in the middle of a meadow, sunlight sparkling on its fur. It was beautiful... probably one of the last beautiful things in this world.

Carl looked at it with sparkling eyes and unadulterated child-like wonder. He looked to Rick.

Rick smiled. "Go on."

Carl smiled and walked to it slowly, marveling at the deer's beauty. His hand was outstretched and he was a few feet away from the animal.

He was still smiling when the bullet shot through the animal and into Carl's stomach.

Rick ran to him.

Shane looked around with his gun raised, ready to shoot whoever did it.

You stood there in shock as a man bounded out of the forest.

"Oh my-"

"What the-" Shane stomped up to the man, ready to swing.

"I didn't see him, I swear!" the man said. "Come on! A doctor! We have a doctor! His name is Hershel!"

In seconds, Rick was carrying Carl and we were running. You stayed in pace with Rick. Shane and the man fell behind.

Tears and sweat fell down Rick's face. Carl's face wasn't smiling anymore. It was pale and... It didn't look like Carl.

A farm came into view. You kept sprinting.

"There! I'll run ahead and tell them!" you told Rick, running faster. Your heart beat against your chest and your body was drenched in sweat. You saw a girl on the porch of the house. She yelled for someone, and a man came to the porch.

"A little boy is shot!" you yelled. "A man said find Hershel!"

Rick ran into your shoulder as he ran onto the porch. "Help him!"

You grabbed your shoulder. It hurt a little, but you were fine. Rick and who you assumed was Hershel ran into the house.

You lingered on the porch. It wasn't your place to crowd Carl. You were barely a friend of his parents. Even though you cared greatly about him, you knew you needed to give everyone space.

You sighed, easily placing your trust in these people. That was one of your flaws. You trusted people too easily. You somehow always convinced yourself that even though the world sucked, the people who you met had good intentions.

Shane rushed onto the porch as Rick came outside, taking off his hat.

"I-Is he alive?" the man who shot Carl asked.

Rick wiped his hand across his forehead, dragging Carl's blood across it. Shane sighed and sat down his backpack. He took out a piece of cloth and wiped away Carl's blood, comforting Rick in hushed tones.

That type of friendship... It reminded you of one you had, before the outbreak. You and Felicity were close. She was really one of a kind. She was kind and intelligent. She was going to Yale. It was something she'd worked so hard for. Her green eyes lit up every time she talked about her dream. You wondered if she was still alive.

Shane and Rick went back in the house. You followed them into a room where Carl lied on a bed, his face pale and sweaty.

"Do you know his blood type?" Hershel asked Rick.

"A positive," he answered. "Same as mine."

"That's fortunate," Hershel replied. "Don't wander too far; we're gonna need you. Otis, what happened?"

"I was tracking a buck," Otis answered in a broken, meek voice. "I didn't see..."

"Lori doesn't know," Rick cried. Shane stood right beside him, hand on Rick's shoulder. "My wife doesn't know..."

You went to sit in Hershel's dining room. Shane and Rick followed you. Rick mumbled to Shane about how he thought he was at fault. It made the situation even worse.

"Rick," one of Hershel's daughters said as she busted in. "He needs blood."

Rick and Shane got up immediately, running to Carl. You followed, more slowly. You got there a few seconds after them. The sight was awful.

Carl was writhing on the bed, crying for his father. They held him down as Hershel dug surgical tools inside him. Rick's arm was being sterilized.

Your stomach fell. All the blood... When you'd met Rick, you thought you'd never have to see it again. You were wrong. So, so wrong.

You ran out to the porch and began heaving. The fresh air didn't seem to relieve the smell of blood and gore and...

You threw up over the railing on the porch. You weren't normally squeamish. You guessed it was the stress.

You looked out onto the farm's fields. You imagined what it might look like before all this. It was probably gorgeous.

"Oh!" a voice said from behind you. It was one of Hershel's daughters; the older one. "(Y/N), right?"

You nodded as she extended her hand. "I'm Maggie."

You took her hand. "It's really great what you guys are doing here for Carl. Thanks."

She nodded. "Well, I'll be back."

She bounced off the porch. You looked at your hands. You felt like you weren't human; like you weren't actually standing there. You felt wrong.

Everything was gone. Step one: a little girl goes missing. Step two: a little boy gets shot. Step three: this is just like what happened with your family and everyone's gonna die except you.

Tears pounded down on your hands like a storm before you even knew they were falling.