Hard Candy [Carl Grimes/The Walking Dead]

What Can You Do?

Snow falls. Rain falls. Leaves bloom, change color, fall off, and bloom again.

Time positively stops.

The world flips the slow-mo switch on its earthly settings and we, the last survivors, our brains and bodies slow down until we've basically stopped completely and can only understand and relive this truth.

Melly is pregnant.

Her words slip out of her mouth and hang suspended in the air for us all to see and hear again and again and again and again.

Melly's voice is crystal clear and rock-steady; there's no mistaking what she just said.

But then the speech bubble pops and the crystal shatters and suddenly the still earth has erupted with noise of every kind: yells of fury, tears of despair, wails of agony.

Weaving in and out of the orchestra of desperate cries are distorted voices screaming ugly accusations I can barely make out...

"....knocked up my little girl..."

"...how are we going to do with another baby..."

"...Lori all over again..."

"...son of a bitch..."

"...God have mercy..."

At the mention of his mom, Carl gets up abruptly and turns to leave the horror. Kemper doesn't let him get more than three steps.

"What do you have to say for yourself, boy?" My uncles voice sounds like a dull razor over rough skin. His face is bright red and streaming with a mixture of furious sweat and continuous tears. "Well? What do you have you say for your disgusting little existence?"

"It was an accident!" Carl shouts hoarsely. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean for any of this to happen!"

"Well guess what?" Rick roars. He clouts his son over the head in a blind rage. "It's happened!"

Carl jumps back, clutching his head, his face twisted like he's trying his hardest not to break down like everyone else. Uncle Kemper massages his fist, swears and curses pouring in a steady stream from his mouth. I can tell he has half a mind to go over there and do a lot more to Carl than just round his head, so when I see him take a step in his direction, it's my instinct that makes me jump between them.

"Uncle Kemper, please," I beg. "Please don't."

"Are you defending this piece of shit who knocked up your cousin?" Kemp hollers. "I oughta castrate the little son of a bitch and feed him his own balls!"

"No, no, wait," I insist, fumbling behind my back for Carl's hand. "Don't hurt him. Please. We'll work this out!"

"What's there to work out?!" Rick spits out savagely. "She's pregnant! Can't undo that!" With that he stalks from the room and out the door, slamming it so hard miniscule cracks appear in the glass of the window.