Hard Candy [Carl Grimes/The Walking Dead]

For Better or For Worse

"USE THE HONEYBADGER!"

Carl nearly splits his controller in two as he presses his fingers into the controls. "Get the Honeybadger! It's better on ammo!"

It's been a week since we took Melly and Karel out and about the neighborhood. To be fair, it wasn't actually that bad. Karel only opened his mouth to ask questions, where as Melly took every opportunity to point out familiar places to Carl. More than a few times she asked Carl to pass her a water bottle, something she couldn't resist making a show of.

"Oops," She would giggle as water trickled down her chin and into the valley between her boobs. (She was wearing a v-neck deeper than the Grand Canyon. On purpose, I'm sure.) "I'm a little klutzy," She would explain. "Growing up on a farm, I've always been a little messy." Then she would give him those huge eyes of hers and I would tell he was getting turned on. But what could I do about it?

She did keep her hands to herself (thank fucking god, if she didn't, there would have be blood). So I suppose it could have been worse.

Now Carl and I are wasting another lovely afternoon inside, playing first-person shooter games. And failing. Badly. Well, me, at least.

"What the heck?" I shout. "How do I switch guns again?"

"PRESS THE X BUTTON!" Carl hollers, even though I'm right beside him. "And hurry hurry hurry hurry, there's a sniper on top of the strip club!"

He tosses his controller aside and yanks mine right out of my hands. "Give that back," I say, grabbing for it. He leans out of reach.

"Just let me play... one more sec and I got him," Carl begs. I throw up my hands. "That's what you said the last time." He doesn't seem to hear me. He's just been sniped.

He sighs. "Damn it." Then he turns to me and grins. "Sorry." I playfully punch his arm. "Next time, I play the whole time for my character." He laughs. "I don't make promises I can't keep." I roll my eyes.

I grab the remote and pause the game in the middle of a replay. "Why is there a strip club anyway? Isn't this a kid's game, sorta?"

"Um, no." Carl sits up. "COD? Not for kids, even if that's who most of their fandom is made up of. But it's really not for little kids. All the gore and guns fucks with their heads."

"You can say that again," I agree. Oops. Yikes. "Wait, no. I didn't mean it aimed at you. Not that there's anything wrong with you in particular."

He shrugs. "Whatever. It's true, isn't it? I mean, can you even imagine me if I hadn't grown up in the world I have? I can't, even. I can't picture that scenario. Which is kinda sad, but what can I do about it?" He looks up at me, his eyes big and blue and honest. But he's right. I can't picture him at all without zombies and killing and death.

I sigh. "True, very true. I miss the normal world. I mean, I've adjusted to this one but that doesn't mean I wouldn't like my old life back sometimes."

He laces his fingers through mine. "Yeah, but like they say, every cloud has a silver lining. Think about it, and allow me to remind you. If this had never happened, we..." He pauses to kiss my forehead. Chills surge through my body like the very first time he ever did that. "...we never would have met." He smiles. "And I can't imagine that, either."

"Agreed," I smile. He leans his head down to kiss me, but I pull away at the last second. There's just one more thing. He looks at me, hurt. "Is something wrong?" "No," I reply. "Well, sorta. It's about Melly."

He groans, and falls back, his hat covering his eyes. "Please, not again. We covered this! I know exactly what you're thinking, and what you wanna say. Let me spare us both the time by saying she means nothing to me."