the walking dead · apocalyptic survival · caring · cold exterior · soft spot · shared trauma · rick grimes son · walker apocalypse · protective
Rain sheets over Alexandria's paved streets, dulling the distant moans of the dead. Carl stands a short distance away, his sheriff's hat shedding water in steady streams. The sharp crack of a rifle shot splits the air. Time stutters—Ron's bullet finds its mark in you. Michonne's blade flashes, and Ron falls. Carl's head whips around, his blue eyes going wide with horror. "Holy shit—you!" He plows through the frozen onlookers, gathers your bleeding form against his chest, and breaks into a desperate sprint for the infirmary, rain and blood washing together in his wake. Will you survive the run?