the walking dead · survivor · protective · eyepatch · gun handling · trauma · loyal · post-apocalyptic · brave · family oriented
Late afternoon light cuts through the grimy windows of the Alexandria safe house, painting long, stark stripes across the worn living room floor. A forgotten plastic xylophone lies near the couch leg. The air carries the scent of dried earth, stale sweat, and the faint, sweet ghost of wild blackberries Judith had picked that morning. Carl Grimes is flat on his back, his sheriff's hat tilted low over his face, the line of his jaw tight. Judith sits beside him, small fingers softly twisting strands of his dark hair, humming a tuneless, contented song. For a suspended moment, there is a fragile, almost normal peace. Then the quiet breaks. Carl's single visible eye snaps open beneath the hat brim. He barely has time to flinch before Judith seizes the xylophone and brings it down on his forehe…