In the hour that followed, after I'd pulled out the wood that impaled my leg through gritted teeth and groans of pain and been hauled out of the cupboard beneath the stairs, I explained to Carl all about my bite wound and the aftermath.

I told him all about my amputation, my arrival in Woodbury, my initial trust of the Governor, my prosthetic arm, the betrayal at Alexandria and finally my plan to kill him.

Carl simply... Sat. He let me tell him everything. He didn't object to anything or correct anything I said; for once he just listened - something we both could have done a lot more of in the past few months - as though he was trying to see the situation from my point of view.

And I think he now believed me, at least to some extent, although whenever I asked Carl would always shamefully avoid my question.

In fact, I think shame may have been the primary cause of all of this. I think, in his mind, that trusting me and believing my side of the story meant betraying those whose lives had been lost to the Governor and his men.

But if the relationship between Carl and I had taught us anything in these last few months, it was that blaming yourself never accomplished anything, and hopefully that reflected on him now.

At the moment, the two of us were sat at the table in the derelict living room, cautiously regarding a large spider that had taken shelter in the top corner of the room.

"I'm gonna kill the damn thing," I grimaced at the creature, "it's scarier than that walker beneath the stairs. Just... Look at the way it's watching us."

"You know where it's looking? How can you tell? Are you part-spider or something?"

"If I was part-spider I think I'd turn that gun on myself. But seriously, just look at it. It's deciding which one of us to kill first, I know it."

Carl chuckled, "I don't think so, Riley."

"Oh I do. I think I'm gonna have to kill it first."

"Really?" Carl eyed me skeptically, "and how the hell do you plan on doing that?"

"I don't know. We can't shoot it; that'd waste ammo. How about... pulling off it's long damned legs one by one?"

"You haven't got the guts to even get close to that thing, let alone pull of its legs."

"True," I admitted with a sigh of defeat.

"Besides... You can barely stand up as it is," Carl frowned at me, regarding my wounded leg. It had been messily bandaged, but it certainly hadn't been given the medical attention that it needed.

"I'm sorry we couldn't find any medicine or anything," he apologized for some reason.

"Don't be," I smiled sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "it's not your fault, Carl."

"I know, but... We should at least wash it, disinfect it. Hell, there's cuts all the way up and down your leg. You could really do with a bath."

"Was that an insult?"

"N-No, I mean--"

"I know, Carl," I chuckled, "it was a joke. But you do too. I mean you're the one with a sprained ankle."

"It's just twisted, Riley."

"Carl... You're walking like a 70 year old. You've sprained your ankle, just admit it."

My boyfriend sighed in defeat. If there was one thing I admired about the similarities in our personalities, it was definitely our tenacity. It would always take a long time before either of us got our way in an argument.

"Fine," he grumbled, "it's sprained. You win. But even so, it's not like there's a conveniently placed bath-full of water we can just climb into."

"We?" I smirked at his remark, "you've missed me that much, huh?"

Carl blushed bright red at that; something I hadn't seen him do since the first few times we kissed, and that was several months ago. I couldn't deny it was adorable as hell, and it only made me that much more satisfied with my response.

"I-I didn't mean--" he stammered awkwardly, his voice trailing off.

"It's okay. I did," I replied, taking on a more serious tone now and gently taking his hand in mine, "I mean... If you want to. It's been a few months, right? And maybe, especially after all this shit that's happened in the last week, we could use something to just... Take our minds off it all."

"Y-Yeah," Carl replied with a nervous smile after several moments, "yeah I'd like that."

"You would?" I repeated for reassurance, "you sure? Because I don't want you to feel under pressure or anything."

Once again, Carl nodded, firmer this time.

"Well that's good," I smiled at him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze in mine, "because it was raining like hell last night, and I'm pretty sure it'll have filled up that rainwater tank outside."

"There was a rainwater tank?" Carl sighed.

"Uh huh," I chuckled to myself, "you gotta pay more attention to these things, Carl."

---

Not long after, and the bath was full.

We had used various bottles and buckets found throughout the abandoned cabin to extract the water from the large tank and transfer it to bath upstairs, that was in surprisingly good condition compared to some areas of the house.

The water was not freezing cold, but it was hardly the greatest temperature to have to climb into without any clothes on.

And that, for us, was definitely going to be the most difficult part of the whole thing: sitting beside each other without wearing our clothes.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't somewhat excited about the prospect, but it wasn't one that the two of us had dared to talk about much, and we certainly hadn't considered doing it before, mainly because we hadn't the space in Alexandria.

But now, as the two of us stood in the bathroom, staring at the shallow bath of water in a house in the middle of nowhere, there was no denying that we certainly had the space...

---

About a minute later, and Carl and I were sat in the bathtub.

We had given each other strict instructions not to look as the other undressed, of which I had been simultaneously grateful for and frustrated by.

At any rate, here we were, breathing shallowly and shivering at the temperature of the water.

Carl sat facing the same direction as me, his naked back mere centimeters from my skin. But I could tell that this was a deliberately kept distance.

"This is... Strange," Carl muttered, clearly still stunned by the reality of the situation.

That makes two of us...

"It is," I nodded meekly, returning his sentiments, "but it feels... Nice, right?"

"Yeah," Carl turned slightly, the water sloshing about as he adjusted position, "yeah it does. I'm sorry, you know, if it's... Awkward."

"It's not your fault; I'm the one who suggested it in the first place," I reminded him reassuringly, "why are you apologizing so much recently, anyway?"

"I'm not," Carl defended himself.

"Carl," I sighed, "you can tell me."

At that moment, I dared to place a hand on his shoulder. He shivered briefly at the touch, but relaxed after a few seconds.

"I just... I feel guilty. Like I've let everyone down. I mean, I... I hit you."

"What do you think about that? Still think I'm lying?"

"I told you," he sighed, "I don't know yet. I want to think you're not but, after everything that's happened in the last few days, it's... Hard, you know?"

All I could do in response was nod in understanding,

"But that's not the only thing," Carl continued regretfully, "I let you run off, Riley. Back in the forest outside Alexandria, I just let you sacrifice yourself. Hell, I thought you'd died. And I didn't even try to save you... Not to mention the fact that I was in the church with the Governor at Alexandria; in the same God damn room. But when the shooting started, I took cover behind the pulpit instead of standing up and firing back. I could have killed him, Riley, and then none of this would have happened."

"Hey, listen to me. That wasn't your fault, okay? The Governor had an army, Carl. This would have happened with or without him in charge. But he's dead now. He must be."

Carl nodded uncertainly in response, but now I could tell from the way he hung his head slightly that he was silently crying. I hadn't seen him do that for weeks, perhaps even months. Ever since we reunited with Daryl, Sasha and Tyreese and learned that Bob had not survived.

He's blaming himself. We all go through that phase after something bad happens - some people longer than others - and it's an awful thing to think.

I considered how I should react for a moment, before daring to ask him in a whisper, "lean back."

He didn't even object. In fact I think he'd been waiting for me to ask, just so he could feel less alone. I reached out and gently took hold of his shoulders, easing him back slowly until he was now positioned between my legs, his skin - still warm in spite of the cool water - softly touching mine, with his head rested back against my chest.

"It's gonna be okay, Carl," I whispered to him, wrapping my arms around his torso for comfort, "we're gonna get back to Alexandria. You're gonna see your dad, and Carol and Daryl and Michonne, and we're both gonna be fine."

"Thank you Riley," Carl smiled softly to me, "I love you."

We stayed like this for several minutes, my hand combing gently through Carl's hair, until - primarily out of a fierce curiosity - I dared to look down for the first time since he had leaned against me. At that moment I realized my more intimate area was resting right in the grove of his butt.

"Riley," Carl sighed with a chuckle, "I'm feeling something, and since you're not wearing any clothes, I'm pretty sure it isn't a pen in your pocket."

"Sorry," I apologized with a smirk, "I guess you just have that effect on me."

"Lucky me."

We chuckled to one another, before silence fell once again. It was not a depressing or foreboding silence, however. Instead, it felt more like one of content; simply appreciating one another's company and warmth.

We stayed like this for ages - perhaps hours - simply motionless, enjoying the peace and tranquility of our situation; luxuries that we were rarely granted these days, with people like Simon and Phillip around every corner.

It was truly beautiful what effect love could have in such a hellish world.

What I had said to Carl was right: we would get back to Alexandria soon. I would make sure of it, if it was the last thing I ever did. After what I'd done; giving the Governor information about Alexandria that contributed to the deaths of innocent people, I owed it to him - to all of them - to see this through.

But I also knew, deep down, that it wouldn't be easy.