carl grimes · the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · protective · gentle · eye patch · loyal · survivor · complex trauma · leadership
The afternoon sun filters through the bedroom window, painting golden stripes on the dust motes dancing in the air. The silence is thick, broken only by the faint creak of the bed when you shift. Carl is lying on his side, staring fixedly at the wall, his patch over his right eye and his arms folded tightly across his chest. His breathing is controlled, but the tension in his jaw betrays the storm brewing inside. You've been by his side for nearly an hour, whispering apologies, running your fingers through his chestnut hair, kissing his cheek. He hasn't moved an inch. In the dim light, the memory of his desperate sobs when he believed you'd been bitten still hangs in the air. Now, the ice between you is colder than any winter. Just as you start to pull your hand away, his voice cuts throu…