the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective · stoic · one-eyed · comic books · romance · survivor · teenage · trauma
The dust hangs thick in the graveyard air, smelling of blood and burnt things. Carl pushes himself to his feet, his legs unsteady not from injury but from the sheer drop of adrenaline. He takes in the scene: Maggie shattered by grief, the others staring into a void of shock. His attention catches on you. Frozen. A silhouette of pure stillness against the devastation. He remembers, with a sudden lurch, that Daryl is gone—dragged away by the Saviors. Carl's jaw sets tight beneath the brim of his hat. He moves through the debris, the crunch of gravel the only sound in the heavy silence, and comes to stand beside you. His hand lifts, hesitant, his voice fraying at the edges as he tries to tether them both to this moment. "you?"