Sequel to: As one. (I recommend reading that first.)
[SEASON 4 ONWARDS]
[UNEDITED]
In which the group have been split up after the attack on the prison.
I do not own any of the twd plots, scripts or characters other than my own. I do not own any GIF...
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FLASH BACK : THE PRISON.
A LIGHT EMITTING through out the hallway, Ophelia kept her torch low and was careful not to wake anyone up from their sleep. It was the middle of the night, and outside her cell she had heard gentle weeping, and so untucked herself from her blanket, unraveled herself from Daryl's arms, and investigated the source of the sound.
She edged down the hallway and walked down the stairs until the weeping became louder. At the bottom of the stairs, she saw a still figure and slowly approached the being until it was in touching distance. She reached out her hand and tapped their shoulder, and her eyes met with another blue pair, watering and broken.
"Carl." She whispered. "What are you doing down here?"
The boy quickly wiped his eyes and shuffled to his feet, sniffling. "N-nothing. I just, I couldn't get to sleep. I'll go back to bed, just forget you saw me."
The boy then went to run up the stairs, but Ophelia quickly grasped his hand within her own and pulled him back, so that together they were sat on the bottom step. She didn't let go of his trembling hand, and with a worried expression asked the boy, "Carl - whats wrong?"
"I'm fine." He shrugged, dismissively.
"Carl." She urged, raising her brows. "I know you're not fine. I hear you wake up in the middle night and run down here. And today I catch you crying - what's wrong?"
His cheeks becoming flustered, Carl hung his head low in embarrassment. He'd just been caught crying, by Ophelia of all people - one of the strongest people he knew. And here he was, crying like a little weakling in front of her, he didn't blame her if she called him weak.
Ophelia quickly noticed his cheeks becoming a warm pink and gathered that, perhaps, that was embarrassing for the young child. She should know - she'd always hated crying. Slowly, she then placed the torch down in between them and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, offering him a comforting smile.
"I'm not gonna tell anyone, kid." She reassured. "What you say is between you and me. Think of it like a....sibling to sibling conversation, okay?"
Carl looked up at then, and even Ophelia was surprised at the words that had rolled of her tongue like silk. None the less, she'd said them now, and something seemed to soften within Carl's blue eyes, as though the brick wall he'd built around himself had collapsed, and he'd permitted the girl into his very thoughts.
"I just..every time I close my eyes she's always there, staring back at me." Carl began to explain, inhaling a heavy breath. "And it always ends the same way - me shooting my own mom in the head. Every night, I have to re-live that day, and then every day I have to remember what I did, who I'm becoming."
