Just Keep Walking

Thirty

"You're home." Mary grinned as Carl came inside.
"I'm home." He smiled back, going up the stairs to one of the bedroom, and flopping on the bed, Mary laid next to him on her stomach, her chin resting on his chest.
"Did you have fun with the big boys?"
"Yeah. And there's a girl too. Ron and Mikey and Enid."
"Enid's a old name. Just like Mary." Mary smiled happily.
"Yeah. She's quiet like you too." Carl nodded.
"What did you play?"
"Some video games."
"What are they?" Mary asked innocently.
"Games I used to play. You need electricity for them." Carl explained.
"Can I play?"
"Sure, next time I go round, I'll take you."
"Can I wear the hat?"
"Yeah." Carl smiled gently, putting his hat on her tiny head. He took her bunny off her, holding it between his forefinger and thumb. "Can we put this in the wash? Yeah?"
"No."
"Oh, I think we can."
"No!" Mary hissed suddenly, angry and annoyed.
"Why?" Carl challenged.
"Because it smells like home."
"What if this is home now?"
"I don't know. But everything's too different."
"Yeah. Yeah, it's different. But different can be good. And hygienic. This still has blood on it from when you were shot. And it really smells."
"You smell." Mary retorted childishly, but Carl saw the hurt in her eyes.
"You're really not gonna let me wash it?"
"No." Mary said firmly.
"Don't be grumpy with me." Carl pleaded.
"I'm sad now. And you are smelly."
"Hey, hey, what's with the insults?" Rick asked with a laugh, walking into the room and sitting on the end of Carl's bed and jokingly pulling Mary away from Carl.
"Carl is trying to wash Carl Bunny." Mary muttered, and Rick laughed, then put his hand on Carl's shoulder.
"Hey. How was Ron's house?" He asked softly.
"What do you think of this place?" Carl questioned, ignoring Rick's question.
"Well, I think it seems... Nice."
"Yeah. I like it here. I like the people. But they're weak. And I don't want us to get weak too."
"Hmm." Rick nodded, his thumb stroking Carl's jawbone once, then once again.
"They even have school here. Mary? You hear that?"
"Really?" She whispered quietly.
"Yeah. Little kids in the morning, older kids in the afternoon. I mean, the next youngest kid is ten though, so I don't know how Mary would go."
"I'll just go. They'll like me." Mary shrugged, and Rick and Carl both laughed.
"Alright, Miss Popular, let's go eat, yeah?"
Mary grinned widely. "Yeah."

"Look. North Star." Rick whispered into Mary's ear as he stood by the window with her, everyone else asleep.
"Brightest one." Mary smiled, and Rick kissed the top of her head.
"See, you don't need school to be a clever kid."
"I'm really smart. I know. I use words like anxious and dumbass and exciting." Mary grinned.
"Okay, but we don't use dumbass."
"No, it's okay, because it means you're friends with them if you say it in a nice way. Glenn does."
"Okay," Rick laughed quietly, "okay, you weird little girl."
"Like you!" Mary giggled.
"Shh. Everyone's sleeping." Rick soothed, and Mary giggled quietly.
"Hey." Michonne whispered, walking over to the pair.
"Mishy." Mary grinned.
"Hey, Mary Moo." Michonne half laughed, "Why are you awake?"
"I can't sleep because I had a bad dream. And daddy is stressed. So we are looking at stars."
"Ah. Got it." Michonne nodded seriously.
"What are you worried about?" Mary asked Michonne, her eyes deep and wise, wise beyond her years.
"Well, Deanna hasn't given me a job yet."
"You want one?" Rick half scoffed.
"Yeah. Do you?"
"That's signing the papers. That's saying, yes, this is how it is."
"You afraid to do that?"
"Aren't you?" Rick shrugged, Mary looking up at him in sadness.
"No."
"So then why are we both awake? I'm gonna take a walk. Baby, stay with Mishy."
"No." Mary replied firmly. Rick couldn't be bothered to argue with her, and put Carl's jacket on her, then put his own on.
"You gonna walk?"
"Yeah. Until it hurts." Mary nodded. She reached up and grabbed Rick's hand, her other hand holding her bunny. "You know that girl?"
"Which one?"
"The one that gave me clothes. What's her name?" Mary questioned.
"Izzy."
"I don't want to be her friend."
Rick sighed, annoyed that Mary never wanted to be friends with children, that she hated socialising. He knew that she was socially delayed, and probably delayed in many other ways. That she seemed younger than she was because she hadn't socialised with children her age, and she didn't go to school, and she hadn't had proper health care or immunisations or dental checks. He knew she wasn't a normal, heathy five year old. He knew she probably never would be.
"Why don't you want to be friends with Izzy?" Rick asked softly.
"Well, because all of my friends die. All my friends who are kids. I don't want anymore kids to die."
Rick stopped, and knelt down in front of Mary, his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes. "You think you're saving her? By not being her friend?"
"Yeah."
"Mary," Rick sighed, his heart breaking, "your friends don't die because they're your friends. They die because... It's not your fault, Mary. Your friends died because this is a hard world now, you know that. All your friends who are children died because this isn't a world for children anymore."
"Then why am I alive?" Mary asked in confusion, her voice a ring, fragile whisper.
"Because you're not a child, Mary. You're not. You may be five, but you're not a child. You're not weak. You have fire and strength in your blood, and that makes you so amazingly powerful that you don't die like other children. Because you're strong. And you kill. And you survive. And that's not something to be ashamed of."
"Daddy? Be honest. Do you think I'm gonna survive?"
Rick put his hand on Mary's cheek, smiled proudly at his daughter. "I think you're gonna outlive us all."