Just Keep Walking

Sixty one

The next day, Mary was awake by three am, nightmares waking her. What she wasn't aware of was that Carl was already awake, frozen in silent terror from his own nightmares. She was practically bouncing off the walls, so Rick took her outside, letting her do cartwheels in the garden before the sun even rose. By five am, she'd had a shower and was dressed, eating breakfast on the porch next to Judith, wearing her dungarees, no shirt, her bandana in her braided hair, and multicoloured wellie boots that Aaron had found her.
"Hey, Rick," Daryl called, as he slowly came past on his motorbike, "I'm goin' on a run. Jus' to see what I can see. You stay, have a day off."
"You sure? You should have a day off. Moo misses her Uncle Daryl."
"Mary jus' cares about what ever it is she's eatin' there." Daryl teased, Mary oblivious to the conversation.
"Alright. Well, I'll see you later."
"Yeah," Daryl nodded, revving his engine, "and Rick? One of your kids is eating some flowers, and the other is putting jam on her boots and in her sisters hair. I'll let you guess which is which."
And with that, Daryl left, leaving Rick looking down at his two daughters in amusement.
"What are you pair doin'?" He asked with a laugh. Neither of them replied, just looked up in amusement, and Rick could help but photograph the perfect moment of them; both of them covered in jam, Mary in her dungarees, Judith only wearing a pair of poofy, cuffed fabric shorts, a flower poking out of her mouth, plucked from a plant pot which Jo had delivered to "make the place look more homely".

It made it all worth it.

"Carl! Wake up!" Mary sang into Carl's ear a few hours later.
"I'm awake." Carl groaned, his voice groggy.
"Wake up!"
"I'm awake!"
"I'll get you some coffee." Mary decided. She ran down the stairs, falling down half of them, then poured him some coffee, spilling half of it on her way up the stairs.
"What are you doing?" Rick asked in panic.
"Making Carl some coffee." Mary answered nonchalantly.
"You know you don't touch the coffee machine. You'll burn yourself. You've already got scars from one burnt hand, do you really need another?"
"I wanna help Carl."
"Well, that's really sweet, but ask for help next time." Rick sighed.
"Shall I make Mishy one?"
"No, I will. No more coffee machines."
"Mean." Mary mumbled, then she went into her and Carl's room, kicking the door open. "I got you some!" She sang, now Carl dressed, and sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. Mary swore she saw a tear on his cheek, and her stomach churned.
"Carl? Carl?" Mary asked softly, putting the coffee down and walking over to him, "Carly, what's wrong?"
"Nothin'."
"Carl. What's wrong?" Mary repeated, crawling onto his lap and nuzzling into his chest.
"I'm just a bit sad." Carl answered, resting his chin on the top of her head.
"Why are you so sad? Does your eye hurt?" Mary asked quietly, playing with his hair.
"A bit, yeah."
"Like how my hip hurts sometimes?"
"Yeah, just like it." Carl smiled softly.
"Me, you and daddy have all been shot, you know. And Mishy, so that's the whole family except Judith, but she doesn't count. She's not an asshole asskicker because she's a baby. We're warrior princesses."
"Thanks Moo." Carl laughed, and Mary kissed his cheek repetitively.
"I love you," She smiled, "and I love your bandage. It's so cool."
"Yeah. I gotta change it. Why don't you go outside?"
"Why?"
"Well, my eye socket, where I was shot, it's really ugly. I don't want it to scare you."
"Why would it scare me?" Mary aske innocently.
"Because it's ugly, Mary. It makes me feel sick. You'll hate it."
"No I won't." Mary insisted. Carl sighed, deciding to not bother arguing, then unwound his bandage. "It's not ugly." Mary said firmly, kissing just above the wound.
"It is, kiddo."
"No it's not!" Mary insisted. "And my say is final. And don't call me kiddo, that's Glenn's nickname!" She giggled.
"Okay." Carl laughed softly.
"Say "I am beautiful.""
"What?" Carl chuckled.
"Say it!"
"Mary is beautiful."
"Carl! That's not right!"
"What?" Carl laughed, tickling Mary.
"Carl. Serious." Mary whined.
"You really want me to say it?"
"Yeah." She pouted, and Carl laughed softly, unable to say no to her.
"Okay. I am beautiful."
"Good! Good boy." Mary praised, using the same tone she did with Bertie.
Carl laughed even more, and then began to redress his wound. "I love you. So much."
"I love you too. And daddy and Judith and Maggie and Glenn and Uncle Daryl and mommy and everyone else."
"How much... Do you remember much about mommy?" Carl asked gently, taping his bandage secure.
Mary bit her lip, an incredibly mature thing for such a tiny child to do. "I remember some. I remember her pretty hair, and her big brown eyes, like me. That makes me feel special. You and daddy have matching eyes, and me and mommy have matching eyes. I remember that she gave really good cuddles, and she was good at washing hair. Plus she had a really kind smile, sorta like Mishy."
Carl smiled at Mary gently, nothing but love in his eyes. "Do you miss her?"
"Yeah. When I think of her I do and I get really sad. But we have Maggie and Mishy and they're sorta like a mommy, I guess. Do you?"
"Yeah, I miss her." Carl nodded sadly.
"I think Mishy is our mommy now. Like a mommy. She is." Mary nodded slowly, and Carl hugged her tightly.
"That's a nice idea."
"And your eye isn't ugly. I think it's cool. We can match, if you want." Mary suggested. Then she brought her knife to her eye.