Hard Candy [Carl Grimes/The Walking Dead]

Trust Me

The rest of the night is quiet, with Carl and I keeping to ourselves while Beth and Judith play together. I'm tired, but Carl insists we stay awake until he group returns. I reminded him they might not be back till tomorrow, but he just brushes that off and says we'll stay up till noon tomorrow if we have to. I've never seen him so intent on welcoming his dad back. Then I realize Rick has never gone on such a long run before.

Carl decides we should watch as many scary movies as we can, "Because all the scares will keep us alert," He reasons. I'm too tired to object. We've been watching movies since after dinner, and now it's almost 3 am. I want to stay awake, but I'm giving into my drowsiness. Carl tries to rouse me, shaking the arm he has wrapped around my shoulders, but I eventually just collapse into his lap.

"OUCH!" We both scream as my head collides with something hard. FUCK, that hurts like a bitch!

"God damn it, Yara..." Carl mutters, gingerly rubbing his crotch. "Keep your head up!"

I massage my forehead, which much have a goose egg swelling beneath it. "Oh shut up," I snap. "I'm tired as fuck! And why are you even--" I gesture helplessly to his crotch.

He burns deep crimson. I raise an eyebrow. "Do these slasher films turn you on or something?"

"No!" He exclaims defiantly. "But... you sleeping does. You're just cute when you're tired."

I shake my head. "You sound like a rapist when you say that."

I look back at Carl, who looks surprising really pissed off.

"Don't call me that."

I'm surprised. I've called him way worse things than that. Why? I want to ask.

He scowls bitterly. I touch his hand, but he pulls away. Now I know I've made a major mistake. "Carl? Geez, I'm sorry, I didn't know that word... bothered you so much."

His eyes meet mine, and to my great regret I see their stunning blue hue has been replaced with an almost-black shadow.

"I was almost raped when I was fourteen, alright?" He shifts over to the right side of the couch, giving me a wide berth. "I don't want to talk about it. Just... don't say that word."

I'm stunned into silence. I feel absolutely awful.

I drop my face into my hands. How could I say that. You are the most awful girlfriend in the world.

I peek at him through my hands. His head is down, and his elbows are on his knees with his fingers laced behind his neck. He doesn't say anything, just exhales slowly and softly. He's strong, a survivor, but at the same time so gentle and sensitive. The thought of someone taking advantage of him... at fourteen...

I scoot back over to him. This time he doesn't move. He's retreated back into his memory. I gingerly touch his shoulder, before moving my hand down his back. I look him right in the eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't... I should have thought."

He shakes his head sadly, and it breaks my heart."How would you have known? I never told you," He says, almost regretfully. "I-I wanted you... I just wanted to keep you separate. From all the bad things. I wanted you in the good part of my life."

I want to cry, he sounds so miserable. "You did," I say. He looks at me. I smile sadly. "You kept us happy."

The corners of his mouth slowly lift up, but unsurely, as if he's not sure to trust me. I've broken our trust, I realize. I've broken the unbreakable bond.

He looks like he wants to kiss me, but he holds himself back. I'm on the verge of tears. Please don't tell me I've lost him.

I can't help it, the tears start flowing. "Don't cry," Carl says soothingly. "It's not your fault."

These words just make me cry harder. "I'm so, sorry. Sorry that happened to you. I can't even imagine... I'm just sorry." I choke on my sobs.

Carl shakes his head. "Don't start beating yourself up over this. He didn't actually... you know, do anything. But it was scary. So scary. I was just a kid. He... he dragged me from a car. They had guns against my dad and Michonne. I was asleep..." He trails off.

I cover his mouth with mine, partly because I need to make sure he's still mind, and partly because I really can't bear to hear it. "Shhh," I murmur into his mouth. He relaxes against me. "Past."

I ease a leg over his waist so I'm straddling his waist. He sits up straighter, never once disconnecting our mouths. His hands tighten around my hips as I run my fingers through the hair peeking out from below his hat. He lets go of me to remove his hat. He's only taken it off in the past for two things I can remember: when we're about to go to sleep, and when we're about to get intimate.

And we're both wide awake now.

I lift my hat and give my hair a toss before crossing my arms and lifting my shirt over my head. He undoes his shirt buttons. I slide his belt out from the loops while he fiddles with my zipper. His hands trail along my back before finding my bra clasp, and it falls apart like butter. He's a pro at this.

Carl lies down and pulls me on top of him, as we pull off our jeans. He yanks the blanket over us as we connect, slowly, taking our time. No rush. I sigh softly, relieved.

It looks like trust is back. For now, at least. Forever, I hope.

* * *

We wake to the sound of people crashing through the front door. I only stir a little, but Carl sits bolt upright. He shakes me awake, the afghan falling away and exposing my breasts. I pull it back up, freezing. "What?" I croak. "They're back!" Carl shouts. "Hurry, get dressed."

We sprint hand in hand down the stairs and are welcomed by the wonderful sight of the entire group, alive and well, as well as a number of new people.

These people look vaguely familiar, but I can't remember where I've seen them. Suddenly it hits me. I can't believe I didn't recognize them at once. I cannot believe who Rick has brought back.