"There." Carl said.

Both he and Riley had spent the last fifteen minutes walking to the abandoned shopping center they'd seen on the way to the house they'd claimed as their own for the next few days. They'd cleared a few walkers and dirtied their clothes a little more, but besides that there seemed to be no trouble. The area seemed absolutely empty.

Riley glanced over to where Carl pointed, a deserted grocery store laying plainly underneath the warm sun. The girl swept over the whole shopping center, trying to make a mental list of the places they should go to before night fell and they had to get back to Rick. The places deeming most necessary were the grocery store Carl pointed out, a drug store, and a clothing store. The rest were places that used to sell what Riley guessed where pleasure items, like comic books or jewelry. Nothing that could aid them in surviving their misfortunate fate at the moment.

The pair set toward the door to the market, and Carl removed his gun from the holster.

"I'll open it, you follow after me. Okay?" He turned around slightly to make eye contact with Riley.

"Mhm." Riley raised the axe in her hands, moving to prepare herself incase a sea of walkers came out of the building.

Carl, with his gun in one hand and the other reaching out for the door handle, braced himself readily. He turned the handle with a harsh force and tried to slam the door open, but it wouldn't budge. Frowning, he tried again, to no avail.

Riley watched him with a funny look across her face. She dropped her arm to her side. "You got it?"

"Yeah, it's just being a little stubborn." Carl grunted, beginning to lose focus on holding up his gun and now trying to push the door open.

With failure drawn across the wood like bright red spray paint, the boy stepped back a few steps, coming closer to Riley. "I have an idea."

"Oh?" Riley glanced at him, not quite sure that she trusted whatever he was about to bring up.

"I'm going to run at it, the force will probably break it down. But it'll be loud, I need you to cover me fast incase any walkers are behind it. If you're too slow they might get me first, and then you'll have to watch me get eaten alive. Don't screw it up." Carl slowly laid the plan onto her, watching her facial expressions to be sure she was completely on board.

"I've just waited my whole life for someone to say that to me." Riley smiled, eyes crinkling from the sun.

"Seriously. Get ready, they could come from anywhere." Carl fixed his hat, looking pointedly at the stuck door.

"Aye, aye, Captain." Riley murmured under her breath. She held the axe up again, following Carl as he charged straight for the door.

Slamming his body against it, the Grimes practically ricocheted off of the wooden surface, flying backwards until he landed unsuccessfully on the ground. His head tipped back in defeat, gun dropping from his hand and onto the pavement.

"I think you need to hit it a little harder." Riley walked up to his body which laid lazily on the floor.

"Stop." He rolled over on his stomach, picking his gun up and brushing his pants off.

Riley looked over to the stores on either side of the market, seeing both the clothing store and a toy store. One of the two was already a mandatory stop for them, and there was a good chance that there was a door somewhere in there that lead into the grocery shop they needed to get inside of.

"Check this one out." Riley suggested, making a move for the clothing store.

Inside the glass windows, mannequins were positioned fashionably wearing a wide variety of fancy materials. Some had no heads or limbs, some had clothes falling off of their sleek bodies, but all of them resembled the fair and etiquette theme that Riley hadn't seen in so long.

"A dress shop." Carl deadpanned, coming up beside her.

"There could be other things inside, we could use the fresh clothes." Riley stated. She walked up to the door, twisting the handle and watching the frame pop open easily. "Look, this one's open."

Carl's face flushed red with embarrassment. He brushed past the girl and walked into the building, gun raised. Riley followed him, axe in hand but not as worried as the boy. No walkers were in sight from what she could tell when peering through the glass before. She was proved correct when the two of them swiftly skimmed the whole store and they were confirmed alone.

"Are there lights in this place?" Carl asked, lowering his gun as he looked around.

The store was fairly large, although easy to move around in. The main room had a register in it as well as tables covered in neatly folded clothes and hooks carrying different shirts and jackets. The whole place had an off white theme to it, and it definitely didn't look cheap. Riley checked the price tag of a nearby skirt, eyes widening before she left it where it was.

"There's probably a switch somewhere." The girl replied to Carl's previous question. She walked over to a wall that had a hole in it, following a path of wires that were visible thanks to the gaping space that eventually led her to a panel containing multiple regulators. She flipped one, but nothing happened. She tried a second, and then the lights flickered in a dangerously unkind manner. After a moment, all light ceased before majority of the panels along the roof lit up, except for one here and there and the occasional flickering one.

Carl picked up a flannel nearby, examining it with narrow eyes. It was blue and white, just like most of the ones he owned. The fabric looked airy, soft, like it was gentle and comforting to the touch.

"Remember the rules." Riley chimed as she walked over to the table he was at. After receiving a skeptical look, the girl grinned. "Everything has a price."

Carl frowned. "I'm broke."

"How much you got on you?"

"Not a lot." The boy dug into his jeans pocket, pulling out a bundle of quarters. "I only had time to grab some of my stash before we had to go into quarantine."

Riley inspected the change in his hands. It was unfortunate, really. He would be in debt if they weren't in an apocalypse. There was probably about a dollar and sixty cents in his palm, averaging.

"You're fine, I'll cover it." She smiled faintly, patting his hand and closing it over the money.

"What- how much do you have?" Carl asked, eyebrows furrowing as he glanced at her pockets.

Riley pulled her flannel over her jeans as much as she could to hide any hints. "Don't worry about it. Come on."

Leading them over to an area in the back, Riley began to brush her fingers along coat hangers, eyes wandering over each clothing article hanging from the plastic. Her eyes showered the store with awe, viewing every single detail in it until they landed on another area in the back. A fitting area, to be exact.

"What do you think about a little clothing haul?" Riley called over to Carl as she held up a fur coat.

"A what?" He snapped back.

"You know, try stuff on. See what we like."

"This is a supply run. Not a fashion show."

"Loosen up a bit, we have time to kill. You think you can just walk out of here without even seeing if these things fit?" Riley held up two different tops, both being completely different sizes yet, if she had looked at each of them alone, she would've thought they could both adjust onto her frame perfectly fine.

"Yeah, I do." Carl said, walking over to her with a roll of his eyes.

"Right. Well, I'm not letting you." Riley turned around and walked toward the dressing area in the back, a soft grin of achievement gracing her lips when she heard Carl sigh and follow behind her.

There were multiple different areas where people prior to the apocalypse could've tested out different clothes, and each of them were pretty big. The whole back wall had dressing rooms caved into it, a fancy lace curtain covering the entrances to each. Facing the rooms was a cushioned couch long enough to fit at least a few people on it. There were lamps on small tables at each side of the furniture, and Riley turned them both on. She looked around again, noticing large mirrors that lined both of the walls on either side of the dressing rooms.

"Whoever owned this place must've been loaded." Carl shook his head, catching onto the rich designs printed onto the lace curtains.

"Do you think everywhere in the center is like this?" Riley asked, leaning against the back of the couch.

Carl raised his eyebrows. "Maybe."

Riley hummed, turning around to a dressing rack already piled with old clothes. "Say hello to our test subjects."

She held up a pair of pajama pants in one hand and jeans in the other. They were specifically made for younger boys, maybe a little younger than Carl, but the match still clicked. The boy in the sheriff's hat eyed Riley in a violently uncomfortable manner.

"No."

"Yes." Riley scoffed, as if the debate was closed without even starting. "You can't expect to walk into a dressing room and not try things on. It defeats the whole purpose."

"I thought this was for you." Carl gestured to their surroundings desperately.

"Later." Riley said. She threw both pairs of pants to him, watching as he caught them with distaste. "Try the jeans on first. We'll take baby steps."

Grumbling his unsatisfactory opinion, Carl stepped behind one of the curtains, the sound of his belt coming undone echoing around the room.

They could use some music in here, Riley thought to herself as she pushed off of the wall. She looked through some nearby racks, every now and again picking up a new piece of clothing for Carl to try on. Her favorite by the time he had finished was dress suit, definitely made for fancy occasions. But, when there were no fancy occasions to tend to, couldn't those elegant clothes be used for anything?

"God." Carl muttered.

Riley spun around, biting her lip to stifle the laugh aching to come out of her mouth. "Would you look at that? Throw on a pair of glasses, get a little business man action in there."

"You didn't want to tell me they were going to look like this before you made me try them on?" Carl's face was red with embarrassment. He purposely angled his hat down to add shadow to his features.

"Turn to the mirror." Riley nodded toward the wall, not even bothering to fight the smile off of her face.

"I don't want to see them."

"If you say so." Riley walked over to Carl, handing him her new finds. "I'd say the blue right? The green's too bright."

"They're both ugly." Carl made a face at the two shirts she held up. "I'm not wearing that."

Riley hushed him. "Just accept your fate. You already complied."

Carl groaned. "What else do you have?"

Riley dropped the shirts on the floor, kicking them away with her foot before picking through the clothes in her hands. She held up a dusty colored pair of cargo jeans and an oversized shirt that pictured a music group she'd never heard of before.

"Here," She handed them to Carl, who held the clothes in his hands like they were about to set fire at any minute. "I should've given you something to match it with last time. These will be better."

"I'm not sure if I trust you on that one." Carl said, turning around to go back into the dressing room.

"Go. And no complaining this time." Riley grinned with a shove to his shoulder. She sat herself down on the couch and waited until he came out again.

When he did, his hat wasn't on his head anymore, instead hanging on a hook inside the room. The pants were a little long, but besides that, everything else seemed to fit.

"Ooh," Riley teased, watching the way Carl eyed her with annoyance. "Very nice, very nice. Turn around, let me see the back."

As the boy obeyed, Riley faked a gasp. "Wow, Carl. I think we found you a new style."

"I look like a hippie." Carl faced the mirror, kicking his leg a little to even out the material.

"More like a band member from a really long time ago." Riley walked over to him and fluffed the shirt out a bit. "You look like you're about to drop a really awesome mixtape right now."

"Moving on." Carl put his hands on his hips and looked toward the pile of clothes he had yet to try on.

Riley grinned, turning back to the widespread variety of genres lying on the couch. In the end, she'd dressed the boy up and a pageant's worth of fancy clothes, the majority ending up with Carl flushing a bright vermillion and refusing to look in the mirror.

"Who the hell designed this?" Carl scoffed, looking down at the thin, white, button up hanging on his upper body along with a pair of slacks that were clearly too large for him.

"You look like you're about to make me some mean pasta." Riley tilted her head. She'd taken on the job of assigning roles to each outfit she put him in. "The Batman pajamas beat that by a long shot, though."

"Oh, definitely." Carl nodded, turning back to the girl with a faint smile painting itself along his lips. "You're buying those for me, right?"

"That depends. Are you getting the suit, too?"

"Absolutely not."

"Then no Batman pajamas."

"No Batman pajamas?"

"No." Riley shook her head with a grin, watching Carl's frame droop dramatically.

"Fine. Maybe I will. But, on one condition." Carl decided, crossing his arms with a challenging look cast upon his face.

"Continue." Riley raised her eyebrows.

"I get to dress you up now." The boy's eyes bore a twinkle in them, a flash of excitement gleaming in his face.

"Show me what you got." Riley stood up, walking into the dressing room Carl had used before and pulled the curtain shut.

She looked around the small area. There was a dusty and cracked mirror on one wall, a wooden bench on the other. The room was pretty small, but seemed easy enough to move around in. She would know, she used to go clothing shopping with Maggie all the time before the outbreak. They'd have their own fashion shows for hours.

"Incoming." Carl called from the other side of the curtain.

Riley looked up, and a dress with blindingly shiny sequins fell onto her head. "Ouch."

She pulled it off, eyes running all over it. It was hideous, she wouldn't even have given it a second look if she saw it draping on a hanger in the main room of the store, but after everything she had made Carl try on, she wasn't in a position to reject anything. It had only taken her a few minutes to try and figure out how to pull it on, but she clearly didn't do a good job based upon Carl's expression when she pulled back the curtain.

"How do I look?" She asked, stepping out with a flip of her hair.

"Interesting." Carl decided, his mouth pulling into a broad smile. "Give me a spin."

Riley did as told, forcing away the embarrassment as she glanced in the mirror. "Jesus, where'd you even find this old thing?"

"There's a lot more where that came from. Let's see what's next." Carl flipped through a bunch of dresses, some not quite as destructible to the eye as the one Riley had on currently.

"What's that one?" She asked, nodding her head toward a piece of material that shone a midnight blue.

"No peeking. I get to decide. Get back in the changing room." Carl warned, fanning her away with his hand.

Riley rolled her eyes, sticking the tip of her tongue out of her mouth as she drew the curtain back and stepped inside, beginning to pull the dress above her head.

"Round two." Carl threw a new article of clothing into the room again, this time landing it successfully on the bench.

It was a navy blue dress with a belt loop around its waist. There were no sequins on its cloth and the material seemed much more fitting compared to the other attire.

Better, Riley thought to herself. She'd fit her arms through the holes when something prodded at her foot. She looked down, seeing a brown belt sneak its way into the dressing room from underneath the curtain.

"This belt looks like Michonne's katana. Hiyah!" Riley flung the belt around after stepping out again, opting to that rather than sliding it into place along the curves of her hips.

"Watch it, you're gonna poke my eye out with that thing." Carl laughed, bringing his leg up to put something in between himself and the flying material.

"You're very dramatic, has anyone ever told you?" Riley asked as she turned to the mirror. She liked the blue on her, it made her seem more appealing to look at compared to the red.

"Maybe. I like to forget things I don't want to hear." Carl said, balling up a fluffy white dress and throwing it at her.

"Give me something fun after this one," Riley stepped back into the changing room again, closing the curtain as she did so. "These dresses look like the ones on scary magazine covers from a beauty store."

"What, you didn't like the red one?"

Riley stuck her head out of the dressing room with a glare. "Nothing like that one again."

Carl pushed her head back inside. "Hurry up. I'll look around."

Riley unzipped the back of the dress, stepping into it and then pulling it up around her waist. As her arms slid through the soft fabric of the material and the structure tightened itself around her torso, she came across a small issue. Her hand found the zipper in the back, but could only pull it up to around the middle of the back, failing to reach even half of the way up it needed to go to in order to close correctly.

"Carl?" Riley called out to the boy. She felt an awkward touch gather itself in her stomach, and she squeezed her eyes closed momentarily. "Can you come here for a sec?"

"Yeah, what happened?" Carl pulled back the curtain, eyes falling to the dress along Riley's body.

"Can you zip me?" Riley glanced over at Carl, who hesitated before nodding.

"Yeah. Sure."

Carl shuffled into the dressing room behind her, and because of the small proximity was forced closer to her body than what either thought was necessary. His fingers held the zipper between themselves steadily, and they paused there for a moment before his opposite hand hovered over Riley's lower back carefully, as if afraid it didn't belong there. The tips of his fingers grazed the material of the dress softly.

"You can do it." Riley turned her head toward him slightly, keeping her gaze angled downwards toward their shoes.

"Are you okay with that?" Carl asked, eyes following her side profile to try and detect any signs of discomfort that might make a presence.

"Are you?" Riley tilted her head up the tiniest bit, a small thought that maybe the boy was hesitant to laying his hand on her lower back with their bodies at such a short distance popping into her head.

Carl furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah."

"Stupid question. Sorry." Riley laughed nervously, quieting once she felt the warmth of Carl's palm placing itself gently yet firmly on the dip of her back. His fingers curved around her side, molding with the swoop of her waist as he clung to her hips.

She barely even felt the way the dress tightened around her torso as the zipper moved higher up her body, all she felt was the way Carl's hand consolidated on her middle. When there was finally no space left for the zipper to go to, the boy's hand dropped from the tiny metal piece, the hand that embraced her lower back slowly melting from her touch soon after. He took a step back, his frame colliding smoothly with the wall behind him as he did so. Riley turned around, catching his eyes and hearing the strange silence they stood in grow uncomfortably loud.

"What do we think?" Riley's voice sounded awkward as it stood out as the only voice in the empty dressing room, her face tingling with heat as she spoke.

Carl cleared his throat. "It's nice. Blue one was better."

Riley turned back to the mirror, fighting to see the way the white material fit against her skin in the dusty glass. "Really? I kind of like this one."

"The style is fine, the darker color just matched your skin tone better." Carl said decisively, as if he were a professional fashion designer for a living.

Riley grinned. "You and Nessa would have a field day in this place together." She thought back to the female twin that took part in their group ever since they had found her and her brother on the road after the farm wiped out. She remembered how Nessa would try and scavenge for 'clothes that made her eyes stand out', as she'd said. Shirts that weren't ugly and jeans with the perfect wash. Riley used to find entertainment in watching the older girl become a picky mess over the garments she had to wear despite the shortages thanks to the apocalypse. Even if Riley found Nessa extremely high maintenance and a little too dramatic, there was truly never a dull moment with her.

"God, don't ever say that again." Carl scoffed, leaning against the wall of the dressing room as Riley turned to face him. "It was just an observation. The white makes you look like a snow bunny."

Riley raised her eyebrows as her lips parted. "Say that again, but flip your hair a little and make your voice whinier."

"Why?"

"Because then you and Nessa will be, like, identical siblings. Duh."

"Stop trying to make us related. I'd rather die than be her brother, I don't know how Sam puts up with it." Carl shook his head, his hair becoming a little messed up in the process.

"What? You guys are like sisters from another mister." Riley offered, her grin outshining the unamused expression plastered onto the boy's face.

"I'm not even a girl."

"Says who?" Riley swung open the curtain, walking back out. She decided it was probably a good time to look for actual clothes to stock up on now, ones useful enough to bring back to the house.

"I'm assuming you're not keeping any of those." Carl gestured to the dresses laying on the couch and the floor.

"What are you talking about? I need to have something to wear for the next home abomination I have scheduled." Riley nudged a skirt out of the way with her foot as she walked over to pile of henley shirts and began to sort through them.

"Haha." Carl's tone was completely flat, but when Riley glanced up at him a small beam was tugging at the corner of his lips. "Get the blue one."

"This one?" Riley held up a dark blue shirt, the soft material rubbing against the pads of her fingers. It radiated a warm feeling, like some sort of protection against the chaos that creeped out of every sliver of the earth and caught the ankles of innocents by the hundreds. Perhaps it was just the cleanliness of it, or the faint smell of laundry detergent that lingered on its cloth. Riley felt an odd clinginess to it out of the random.

"Yeah." Carl closed his lips pointedly, leaving the word alone in the air.

"It matches my skin tone right?" She teased, holding it up against her chest.

Carl shook his head, and a small chuckle was pulled from his mouth as he did so. It seemed so strange to hear him laugh, especially when he did with her. Usually, when Carl was around Riley it was like his whole world turned upside down, and he was stuck in an atmosphere of bitterness. Hearing the short yet sweet sound elicit from him was such an out of the place thing to fall upon the girl's open ears. But, at the same time, it felt so natural. So right.

"Maybe the black, too." He suggested.

"That's gray." Riley picked up the shirt he was looking at.

"That's definitely black."

"Mm, I don't think so."

Carl snatched the long sleeve from her hands and balled it up, throwing it at her head and walking away. He'd seemed to be picking up a strange habit of doing so.

"Okay." Riley mouthed, a grin peeking out from the areas of her face visible under the cloth. She shook her head, the shirt falling from her skull and leaving her hair a mess, but she didn't mind. She walked around the store, picking up random shirts and jeans that she thought might fit her, or at least ones she'd grow into. She didn't know how long it'd be until she saw another one of these places again.

"Hey, don't forget a jacket." She called to Carl, wherever he was. "It's going to get cold soon."

"We still have a few months." The boy said, walking up to her. He had a tote bag with the Eiffel Tower printed on its fabric in his hands, no doubt holding his finds in it.

Riley snorted at the sight. "Those months will pass by quicker than you think. Did you get anything for your dad?"

"Yeah, a few things." Carl said, peeking into the bag and digging around. "Enough."

Riley wasn't quite sure if the boy was still upset with his father, or at least as much as he was before. She didn't know if 'enough' meant a good amount to sustain him a little while or 'enough' as in he'll end it up dealing with what he gets.

"So, we're good then?" Riley grabbed a few pairs of socks and threw them into Carl's bag, only one falling out beside the rest.

He kicked it with his foot before it hit the ground, not high enough for him to catch and put back into the bag, but high enough that Riley could see it pop up before disappearing to the floor again. She raised his eyebrows, watching the instinctive reflex.

"I used to play soccer." Carl shrugged. "You know that, though."

"Yeah, we used to play on the farm by the horses. Remember?" Riley's voice was contaminated with an air of nostalgia, a warm feeling wrapping over her like an invisible blanket.

Before he'd started playing with Patrick and ignoring her everyday.

"Yeah," Carl said, voice quiet. He looked over at Riley, a strange expression on his face. "We named one of them."

Riley wrinkled her nose with a laugh. "Wafflecone the horse. Yeah, I remember her."

"She was my favorite." Carl smiled, though his tone carried a shred of sadness to it, like the memory was an injection that carried longing with it. The feeling of yearning for the times where life was so simple and sweet that one could have a casual day hanging around a horse named Wafflecone pulled at them desperately.

"Me too." Riley watched Carl's expression, her gaze following each step his face took. From happiness to wistfulness, from gratefulness to disappointment. Each little flicker of emotion cast upon the highlights of his features was like an open storybook. He was so easy to read. At least to her.

Carl glanced up at her, no shock or reaction coming to his face once a fierce second of eye contact settled between them. He stared into her eyes for a moment, possibly trying to unlock the chest secured tightly inside of her which shielded every savage feeling that tore her insides apart. Riley wouldn't let him, though, she wouldn't ruin the moments they'd managed to salvage from the pain just a thin layer outside of their little bubble.

"Let's go see a few more places. We still have time." Riley turned away, walking in the opposite direction Carl faced.

"Yeah. Good idea." Carl adjusted the bag onto his shoulder, following after her with no words left to say.

"You have the Batman pajamas in your goto bag, I'm assuming?" Riley didn't bother looking back, letting the tease scatter across the room and into Carl's ears. Although, she kind of hoped he really did stuff the matching set into the tote bag he carried.

"Hell yeah, I do."

Their dusted shoes stepped over an array of clothing items which littered the dirty floor. One store was done, checked off of the list. Only a few shops left in the center would prove useful to the pair now before their precious hours of daylight would cease to make an appearance, and they would be left inside the walls of the house they claimed while the dead sought them just outside. Riley pushed open the door in the front, the direct rays from the sun illuminating the scratch marks and dried blood along her fair skin. She missed five minutes earlier when she forgot about that. Feeling the ground beneath her feet shift from a shiny smoothness to rough asphalt, she turned on her heel, making eye contact with Carl, who leaned against the open door behind her.

"Where to next?" She asked, head tilting as she awaited his answer.

"Now grocery store." Carl said decisively, pushing off of the door frame. "But let's make it quick. There's another place I want to stop at on the way back."

"I cover top, you cover bottom?" Carl glanced over to Riley, who nodded as she swept her gaze all over the house they'd broken into just a minute prior.

With the confirmed yes, Carl left the room Riley was in, being the kitchen. It was a cluttered mess, pots and pans strewn about with dust collecting by the pounds on nearly every surface, but the girl had a small feeling it was a cozy place to be in before the start of it all. Thinking like that made the room a little more welcoming. The house they were searching was only a few down from theirs, and Carl had said he wanted to run this one through before going back to Rick. With no reason to object, Riley agreed.

She began opening cupboards, searching through them and smelling cans of food to make sure no distasteful scent lingered on them. Her mood was strangely pleasant, a sweet after effect of the day rolling by fascinatingly well- at least better than she thought it could've gone. Instead of fighting for her survival with the hands of grief tearing through her skin with polluted nails in attempt to put out the little fire she had left, she actually somewhat enjoyed the hours she'd been awake for so far. Thanks to the entertainment she'd experienced during her and Carl's short lived moment of fun in the clothing shop, her mood was lifted and the sorrows from the day left behind lingered farther from her mind than she thought they would. And it truly was because of Carl. Because, for once since the prison had thrived, he was treating her quite close to how he used to. He was laughing around her, he was smiling, he was letting himself go and acting like how friends act. Riley was a little ashamed at how desperate she was, milking each second she saw the grin on his face for everything it was worth, but she missed it. She couldn't help the relieving warmth embracing her with pride today. She just couldn't.

She opened a few more drawers, humming a soft tune to herself as she searched the kitchen and stacked cans of beans and corn on top of each other in rows. It was the same song she'd been singing that first day she'd hung out with Lucas. Unconsciously, a lot of things that she'd seen and done reminded her of him, of all of the people from the prison. She saw a butterfly print on the face of a sweater in the store earlier, and Beth instantly popped into her mind. Her and Beth used keep track of all of the different butterflies they'd come across during the premature eras of the prison. There were so many different colors and sizes and shapes, yet somehow Riley remembered each one. Beth never quite forgot either. At the thought of the young blond, Riley's imagination found its way over to the girl's boyfriend, who was in fact Riley's brother. In honest and blatant truth, there was not quite a second that passed that the brunette didn't think of him. After the loss of Meg, she couldn't help but stress herself until she felt exhausted from overthinking about whether he'd survived the fall or not. Losing Meg already drained her of all contentment she'd possessed before, every step she took made her feel like her body gained another hundred pounds of distressful agony. Sure, the day so far proved to heighten her spirits, but that didn't mean the reminder of her family didn't lurk in the shadows and catch her eye every now and then.

It was always there.

Riley was positive Sawyer was still alive. She didn't have it in her to lose faith in him. He'd always been so strong, in every aspect the word could be thought of. Especially mentally, as he'd already struggled with topics so complicated and detailed it hurt Riley's brain to try and understand. He'd been burdened with those 'issues' per say since he was young, and the outbreak only worsened them. Most of it was usually guarded from his sister her whole life, as Meg and their father had reasoned she was too young to be exposed to it. They did a pretty good job of it, because Riley never uncovered more than an inch of a mile-wide world of the damages covering him. Regardless, that wasn't the only way he'd pushed through the life he'd been granted. He'd survived this long, Riley was sure he could survive just a little longer. Just until she got back to him. She didn't even let herself think he was dead, in her mind, he was already proven alive.

Riley pulled herself out of her thoughts, running her eyes over the stacks of cans she had. It took her a moment to completely pull herself back to the present, but once she had, she'd silently concluded her findings were pretty substantial. She turned, examining the whole kitchen to see if there was anything else that could be of use to their small group on their trek through the deepest points they'd reached in a while. Riley was close to calling it a day in the kitchen and leaving when something on top of a cabinet caught her eye. A large canister of chocolate pudding stood lone on the dusty wooden surface. It was sealed shut, completely unopened, completely blocked from any dangers creeping their way in to intoxicate the substance inside it. It seemed perfectly safe to eat. Making the decision in half of a second, Riley walked over to the counter and pulled herself up, getting to her feet and peeking over at the can. She reached her arms up, wrapping her hands around the bucket and holding it to her chest. Dusting it off to rid it of any grime it might've collected on its long period of abandonment, Riley inspected the thing closely. Her eyes lingered on the printed list of numbers and words stuck onto its side for just a second before she began to look around the kitchen for a can opener. She frowned when none came to sight, opting to look throughout the drawers instead when a shout and a crash echoed from the upstairs.

Riley's head shot up, stomach dropping. "Carl?"

Two gunshots pierced the air like a knife through flesh, setting off an internal alarm in the girl's body. Throwing the can of pudding to the side with no clue to where it landed, Riley jumped off of the counter and ran around to the front of the house where the staircase loomed. She could barely see the tip of Carl's hat from her position, but the hand holding a gun desperately up and pointed toward a growling walker gave her a pretty good insight to the picture. Riley ran up the stairs and unsheathed her knife. Carl, who'd still not seen her coming shot at the walker a third time, sending it flying backwards into a pile of books and a filled hamper. Reaching the top of the stairs, Riley glanced over at the boy, who was sat on the floor, breathing heavily.

"Carl! Are you okay?"

"Watch out!" Carl ignored the girl's question, pointing to the walker. "It's not dead yet."

Riley's head turned toward the creature who'd stood up, half of its head blown apart as a result of Carl's gunfire. It threw itself onto her before she could plunge the blade of her knife into its decaying skull, although her disadvantage was prominent still as she'd stood on the last step of the staircase and it was already on the top floor, giving it a elevated height paired with the way it already stood towering over her as a grown man. Trying to sidestep the walker out of instinctive, Riley's back pushed against the railing as her arms shoved at the being, attempting to angle its fall down the staircase to buy both her and Carl time. Her strive reached only a halfway mark on the scale of success, as its rotting body tripped over the steps and went tumbling down, yet not before it caught its nail on the hem of her shirt as it tried to make a grab for her.

Riley dropped her knife as she felt her own figure lose balance and begin to fall down the steps, a gasp being pulled from her throat as her stomach flipped. She'd been an inch away from crashing onto the sharpened edges of the stairs below her when a hand grasped onto her wrist. Her whole frame jerked harshly as Carl gripped her forearm tightly, preventing her from collapsing from her standpoint and down with the walker. Squeezing the railing frantically, Riley regained her footing, turning her head back to glance at Carl. His chest was heaving, his face red and covered in sweat from his own fight with the walker. Not wanting to waste any time, the girl let go of the railing and sprinted up the rest of the steps, legs moving in the direction Carl pulled her in with no objection, the sound of the walker's growls growing louder from behind them.

"Wait!" She cried out, glancing back. She couldn't see the thing, but she could hear it. "My knife, I dropped it. It's on the stairs."

"What?" Carl turned around, facing her and then the stairs. "Riley, the walker's still over there. We have to get out."

"From where? The windows? You're out of bullets, we'll be trapped in here." Riley reasoned. She tried to tug her wrist out of his hold and head back for the stairs, but Carl pulled her harder, closing the distance between them more.

"There's no time! We'll figure something out."

"Just let go, I can make it there and back before it get's to us." She said, glimpsing back toward the stairwell again. The walkers are slow, if they can't walk fast they certainly couldn't climb stairs efficiently either, but the clock was ticking. "Come on!"

"Let's just go! We can find something else." Carl yelled. His eyes were trained on her with an expression of desolating panic in them. He moved his focus from the girl's face to behind her body, the twist of dread in his face dropping as he startled slightly.

Riley's eyebrows furrowed, eyeing the boy for a moment before beginning to turn her head. Her action was stopped midway as her body was thrown once again, but this time by Carl. She landed behind him, turning onto her back from her current position on all fours to see him shove at the walker, who'd found its way up the stairs while they argued. The being stumbled slightly before gnarling at the boy with a hunger in its empty eyes, advancing yet again. Carl cried out, trying to push it back again with failure beginning to dim on him.

Riley got to her feet quickly, tripping as she did so in her fast speed and running past the two. She appeared at the top of the stairwell once again, looking down to try and find the shimmering glint of her blade on the staircase. Her gaze fell upon it about six or seven steps down, and she made a beeline for it immediately. She grabbed it by the tip of its cutting-edge the second she reached it, turning around instantly as she took two steps at a time to get to the top once again. The walker stumbled into her view, Carl achieving his goal of pushing it backwards successfully. It swiped at the boy again, grabbing firmly onto his shoulder and leaning in with an open jaw. Riley slammed the blade of her knife onto its wrist, slicing the hand clean off its body and stuck onto Carl's instead, who jumped at the sight and brushed it off hastily. With a nasty scream of impatience, the walker turned back to the two, preparing its next attack when Carl kicked it in the stomach, sending it flying backwards into the open doorframe and inside a room with a nameplate reading 'Sam.'

It began to crawl forward once more, its head and arms through the threshold when Riley grabbed the handle and swung the door shut, catching the skull of the walker between it and the wall. Blood splattered both Riley and Carl, littering the floors like a crimson paint. She repeated the action again and again until the walker stopped moving, the only thing left in sight being the mushy remains of its beaten down brain.

"That's disgusting." Riley said after inhaling a deep breath, stepping away from the sight.

"You're the one who did it." Carl sassed as he glanced sideways at her.

Returning a look and nearly another insult, the girl paused, noticing his lack of footwear on one side. "Where's your shoe?"

Carl looked down at his foot. "Walker took it off. It's covered in guts now, though."

"Oh, nice." Riley nodded, averting her gaze back to the dead walker they'd just killed as her brain tickled with the sensation of faint remembrance. There was something she'd wanted to say to him, and she scratched her head with her pinky finger before remembering. "I found something I think you might like."

"Yeah? What is that?" Carl turned to her, still heavy breathing a little bit.

Riley grinned. "Come see."

Riley and Carl sat at the edge of the roof, an open can of chocolate pudding next to them with an array of spoons in the mixture. They'd lost count of whose was whose by now, but it didn't really matter. They were full anyway.

"Pass me that." Riley ordered Carl, pointing to a bottle of rubbing alcohol they found in the bathroom.

The boy obliged, handing it to her and leaning back as she unscrewed the bottle. He ran his tongue along the silver surface of a spoon, devouring every drop of pudding there was left on it.

"Lean back and lift up your shirt." Riley said.

On their way down to the kitchen to retrieve the chocolate treat, the girl had noticed a pained expression on Carl's face, to which he revealed a scratch wound he'd received after being dragged across the floor by the walker while she went to retrieve her knife. They'd stopped by the bathroom, grabbing a few supplies as Riley had insisted they needed to clean it before it became infected.

"Is this going to hurt?" Carl asked, tugging his shirt up a little as he glanced at the scratch along his stomach. It wasn't too high up, but that was possibly even worse, hence the fact that every time he moved the hem of his shirt brushed against it.

"Yes. Just, bite your spoon. On the count of three." Riley doused a cotton ball in the alcohol, the harsh scent stinging her nostrils as she bent over Carl's injury.

Carl nodded, beginning to count with her for his own sake of closure. He squeezed his eyes tight, biting the metal of the spoon handle without really knowing what for. He was quite positive he'd seen it in movies though, and despite the fact he'd never admit it, Riley was smarter than him. He trusted her guidance at least a little.

"You ready?" She asked, to which he nodded. She smiled a little at the sight of him, eyes clenched with a spoon sticking out of his mouth. She wished she had her camera, if she still did she would definitely catch the moment in a picture. "Okay. One, two-"

She pressed the wet cotton pad onto the scratch marks before hitting the final number. It was a trick Carol had taught her. If you catch the person off guard, it'll make the pain less noticeable, at least at first, because the shock will reach them faster than the pain.

Carl shouted, spitting the spoon out as he tried to inch away. Riley placed her other hand down on his stomach, stopping him from squirming as much as he could. He slapped at her hand, a grunt escaping his lips as tried to shove her wrist away.

"Excuse you." Riley didn't bother to move her head, glaring up at him through her eyelashes.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Carl squeezed his eyes shut as she began to pat down onto the wound again.

"My God. You act like a child." Riley shook her head, placing the cotton pad down and picking up bandage and a roll of tape they'd found in an office.

"I know. Sorry." Carl took a deep breath, shutting one eye so he could examine what she was doing.

"Okay. You're done." Riley sat up straight after taping on the bandage, giving it a pat for extra lengths and watching him wince with a glower.

Carl grunted, sitting up and straightening his spine a bit, testing the way the bandage felt against the now clean wound. Once he was satisfied with a comfortable position, he hung his legs off of the roof ledge, dipping his spoon into the bowl of pudding again which sat between him and Riley. The girl swung her legs a little as well, mimicking his position. Her gaze was angled away as she took in the view they had. It felt like time had stopped, giving them a moment to rest. She was silently grateful for it.

"What are you thinking about?" Carl asked. He wasn't look at her, just out at the open lands and trees, but his words rang pristinely throughout the blank air.

Riley sighed, turning her head to look over at him. "Just... I don't know. What happened to us, how we got here."

"Ah. The deep stuff." Carl nodded, licking the spoon.

"Oh, yes. The very deep stuff." Riley replied with a small beam on her lips.

"What parts of the deep stuff are you thinking about?" Carl prodded.

"My mom." The girl stated plainly. There were a few topics her mind was stressing over, but the most prominent one was that woman. It was possibly the easiest too, as she knew the boy next to her could relate in a way.

"I thought you didn't like calling her that." Carl said, eyebrows furrowing as he turned to her.

Riley shrugged. "I didn't. But I guess losing her kind of made me realize how much I took her for granted. If I knew she was going to die I would've treated her how I should've the whole time I had her."

Carl swallowed, blinking rapidly. "I get that."

"I know." Riley's tone was gentle, voice a little quiet as she sat deep in thought. After Lori had died, Carl was submerged in an era of self hatred and guilt. He turned stone cold towards everyone and anyone for a long while. Riley wasn't blind, she saw the way he treated his mother before her death, with attitude and unfairness. But then again, he was just a kid, and the penalty shouldn't have been being forced to kill her to put trust in the fact that she wouldn't come back in the worst possible way one could. There was a moment Riley remembered, where he found her sitting alone on a rooftop edge, just like they were now. They sat in silence for a good while before Carl spoke up. He didn't rant, he didn't say much actually, but he did mention how incredibly culpable and remorseful he felt for the way he'd treated his mother in those last few months. How if he could go back and change it all, he would. Riley never understood what he felt, but she got what he was saying. Now, she understood one hundred percent. And it hurt. It hurt a lot.

"I miss her." Riley said quietly, voice cracking. "She hasn't even been gone three days and I already miss her more than anything."

"I know." Carl whispered. "I did too. You learn to live with it, though. All of it, I mean. The guilt, the pain. It doesn't get easier, but eventually it'll feel less like you lost her and more like you have her by your side all the time. It feels a lot better when it happens. Trust me."

Riley nodded, eyes stinging with tears. She inhaled a deep breath through her nose, forcing away the threatening drops of distress and the burn in the back of her throat. When she finally trusted her voice to come back to her, she spoke again. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Go for it."

"Did having the rest of your family with you help at all? Like, Judith and your dad?" Riley scratched at her ankle with the tip of her shoe, her legs ceasing their swinging.

Carl paused for a minute, debating how to answer the question correctly. "Are you asking me that because you think you lost the rest of yours?"

The girl blinked, staring down at the ground. "Yeah."

"It helps a little, having the support. But they don't really do anything besides be there for support. All of that other stuff is too personal to have other people help you with. Like, when I had to kill her after the way I treated her, my dad and Judith couldn't do anything about that for me. I just had to deal with that on my own."

Riley didn't say anything. So, regardless of having Sawyer or Maggie or Beth around, all of that weight she felt wouldn't be picked up and off of her shoulders if they were there. In a way, hearing that made her feel better and worse at the same time.

"Do you... think he's dead?" Carl asked quietly, quite clearly referring to the girl's older brother.

Riley shook her head. "No. I think he's alive. I just don't know where he is." She felt a little sense of relief after speaking the words aloud, as if saying them helped her to believe it a bit more. She looked over at Carl, noticing how he said nothing. "Why? Do you think Judith is...?"

Carl nodded, a clear hiccup forming in his throat. "Yeah. My dad and I found her baby seat. It was empty, and there was blood everywhere."

Riley felt her stomach drop as she heard the news. Even if the child wasn't her own sister, she spent every day since Judith was born by her side. The thought of the little girl dying- especially where she had- without the chance to even learn to walk yet made her feel sick.

For about five minutes, neither teen said anything, sitting in the silence with their legs hanging over the edge of the roof, indulging themselves in their own thoughts. It was a comfortable silence filled with uncomfortable imaginations. For that time, that was truly all it was. Easily difficult.

"Can I... ask you another question?" Riley said, her voice shaking ever so slightly as if nerves tickled it to the core.

Carl nodded.

"Why did you do it? Treat me the way you did for so long? I mean, I get it. You were going through something really hard and I- I gave you your time and your space, but even when you started to open up to everyone else again you just acted like you hated me. You completely shut me out and- I still don't even know why." Riley felt her insides churn with nerves, praying silently she didn't run down the tranquility and mutual kindness they'd already built up that whole day. But, she couldn't let the question go unanswered. The part of her who spent hours each day wondering what she did to make the boy face her with such an ugly mask settled onto his face deserved to finally know what went wrong.

Carl's head visibly dropped. His frame was tense with what was either disappointment or shame, or maybe both. He took a deep breath, lifting his head up higher and then letting it fall again. "You didn't do anything."

"Then what happened?" Riley's voice carried a distinct air of desperation, but she didn't care.

Carl sighed, growing insanely uncomfortable with the confrontation. The girl beside him didn't keep talking, only stared at him with eyes full of hurtful question as she awaited his answer.

"After- after everything that happened with my mom, I couldn't handle being near anyone. It was too much, all of it. But there was that one time with you- remember? And I told you about all of it, how guilty I felt, like such a bad person, how I wasn't ready to let go of her yet. You stayed with me there for hours, and you never once made me feel bad about opening up or anything, it just felt- I don't know, normal with you." Carl's words were coming in strange spurts, like he was forcing the words out, like he knew he owed her an explanation and was fighting to pull it out of him too early, like he wasn't quite ready yet.

Riley's gaze was trained on him, face contorted in deep concentration as she took his sentences in an ran over them, draining them for all that she could. Any little sense of understanding she could grasp, she tried to hold on to.

"I was starting to get more comfortable, I guess. Not with the rest of them, just with you. I just needed to take it slow, and it was easier starting with you because you were my best friend, you know? I- I knew you, I trusted you. It just didn't feel as hard if I took it one step of the way. And it was starting to work, and then we brought the new people in, from Woodbury."

Riley noticed the shift in his voice, the way it dropped a little with a taste of resentment, like the memory inflicted pain on him just by the thought of it. His face was pointed down, purposely avoiding her gaze as he let the words spill out of him more naturally each time.

"I saw you, talking to all of them and becoming their friend. You were moving on, and I just... I felt like you were moving on from me too. Like- like I was left behind while you were ready to just let everything that happened go. I guess I kind of felt like I was losing you to them, and I got upset and blamed it on you because I couldn't accept the fact that you were ready to start a new life when I wasn't."

Carl took another breath, this time to make up for the air he lost in his rant. He picked his head up, the outline of his hat against the late afternoon sun gleaming with a magnificent shine. His face bore an expression of acrimony.

"You were like my person, you know? And it just felt like I lost a part of me to something I wanted but couldn't have, and I let it all fall on you because I couldn't tell you about any of it. I just let you go without making an effort to try and keep you anymore. So, I'm sorry."

I'm sorry. The two words Riley never expected to hear come from his mouth and into her ears. She never thought she would experience the moment where she got a true explanation to why she lost her best friend out of the blue one day, to why their whole friendship collapsed like dust in the wind. She never thought she'd be able to tell him she understands him, she forgives him, she wanted him back more than he thought she did. But here she was, sitting right next to him on the roof of a house in a rundown neighborhood after their home was destroyed and their friends and families were torn to ruins, nothing but a bucket of pudding and a good foot of space separating them.

Her lips split into a tiny half-smile, her mouth opening as she tried to test the right words to leave it. "So you never hated me?"

Carl shook his head, his eyes softening like ice cream under a warm sun. "No. Never, I cared too much. And I let myself get hurt by something I created in some fake reality I made for myself as a coping mechanism. And I made you apart of it without realizing."

Riley inspected his face, feeling a little sorry for something she hadn't ever realized she'd done in the first place. "I never left you, Carl. I would've spent every second with you if I knew you needed it."

Carl shrugged. "I don't know if I did. I think I just needed someone to stay with me while I healed at my own pace. I kind of realized how selfish that was later on."

"It's not selfish to look for support in other people, Carl. It's not like a choose one option or the other, like either have someone or don't. Everyone reacts to things differently, I mean, it's not your fault for wanting some extra help while you took your time." Riley said. She moved the bucket over and slid herself over to take its place, closing the gap between them.

"Yeah." Carl nodded, his voice cracking. "I just felt like I failed her, you know? My mom, I mean, how I was so terrible to her and then I wasn't able to save her. She protected me my whole life and I couldn't do the same for her. Having someone to lean on that didn't just pity me felt like something I needed a bit more then." He explained himself further.

"Failing every now and then doesn't make you a failure. It just makes you real." Riley pointed out. "And besides, you didn't fail her. You gave her a better end than any other alternative there could've been."

"Yeah." Carl said again, looking down at the ground.

"And that's not me pitying you." The girl said in a stronger voice, knocking her foot against his in attempts to lighten the mood just a bit. "It's just me telling you what you need to hear."

"You always do." Carl said with a half sigh. There were times Riley had given him the blatant truth, the things he needed to understand rather than wanted to, and whether or not it made him feel better or worse it usually ended up benefiting him in the long run. Riley was appreciative of her own honesty, it was a quality she felt she possessed that some people didn't have, and could quite use too.

"It's what friends are for." Riley turned to look at him, a soft smile coming to her face when he turned to look back at her again.

He didn't say anything, instead just observing her face with a look of faint wishfulness. He allowed the corners of his mouth to raise the tiniest bit. "I'm sorry."

Riley's smile lessened, biting her lip as she blinked. She didn't want to tell him it was okay, that it was forgettable and manageable, all that he did. But, when she'd heard and acknowledged the side of the story he contained with deep care, she couldn't help but feel as though she could understand the way he'd acted- of course, not excusing it. He'd always had a very different reaction to things, his own way of protecting himself with a barrier. He put on the cold face and the brutal veil before the other person could hurt him more, so that he could beat them down until they were too weak to fight back at him. Perhaps he didn't mean to hurt their feelings and make them feel valueless, but more so found it easier to put up a wall with a mean coverup so that they couldn't find their way through the cracks in the cement. He'd done this with his mother those few months before her passing, with Riley ever since Woodbury had joined their community at the prison, even now, with his father who laid dying in the house a few homes down. Riley wasn't a petty person, she wasn't going to hold a grudge so Carl would feel the hurt she felt all those times she faced a blank slate where her best friend was supposed to be. But, she also wasn't going to let him get a free pass after all of it, the whole ordeal wasn't just a bump in the road- at least not for Riley. It felt more like a dead end with the entry way blocked so there was no return possible, she felt stuck in a secluded area of silence, alone, like he'd left her there by herself. But then again, that's exactly how he'd felt too. It was like they stood in the same four walls, nothing but a mirror in between them, so all they saw was themselves locked in solitary instead of their best friend only a thin glass wall away.

"I forgive you, Carl." Riley said. Her voice was steady, not quite loud, but not quiet either. Her tone carried no sense of wit or fun anymore, the seriousness flooding the four words like an open dam. She meant it, even if there was a single, tiny, part of her that wanted to make him understand the confusion and perplexity that ate away at her day and night during that period of abandonment he'd shut her in, it was gone now. She was willing to move past it for the sake of the light in their nearly diminished friendship that flickered in their dark surroundings.

"You do?" Carl asked, a bewildered expression overcoming his face.

"Yeah." Riley nodded, watching the relief that cast over him and feeling it unravel in herself as well. "But pull shit like that again and I won't next time. I'm serious."

"Yeah, no, of course. That's- that's completely understandable." Carl stuttered quickly. He swallowed and looked into her eyes, into the forest of hazel complexity he'd grown so accustomed to living without for so long. He felt his muscles relax instantly upon the sight. "And I get it if you change your mind or something."

Riley shook her head, pursing her lips to fight the grin off of her face. Of course, she hadn't wanted him to suffer in the torment she had- that was a whole main reason in itself as to why she was forgiving him. But she couldn't lie, seeing the uneasiness in his face satisfied a small piece of her that she wasn't willing to unearth.

"So, this means a second chance, then?" Carl's voice was a little misguided, like he was testing to see if the grounds he was stepping on were safe to approach.

"You have your second chance." Riley shrugged with a small grin. "I'm just waiting for you to take it."

Carl raised his eyebrows, nodding as if considering her words carefully. "Alright then. This time I'll make it worth it. Promise."

"Good. I'll be holding you to those expectations."

"I'll meet them." Carl said more to himself than anything. "I'll try."

Riley gave him a side-eyed look, the warning glare being a silent message she hoped he could read clearly in between the light of the sun's rays.

"I will." He confirmed, receiving a satisfied nod from the girl in reward.

The silence fell again, comfortably, though. Like a warm bed by a toasted fire after a long day in the chilled atmosphere of an icy winter. The feeling of their legs hanging off of the roof's edge gave a sense of freedom, almost, like there was no limits to be held to. All there was, was just down, there was so much space. So much space to make amends, to start over, to make up all the time that was lost. Riley took great notice of this. She turned her head a little to glance at Carl so that he wouldn't notice her stare. He was peering at the treetops, and he looked almost happier. Like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, a weight he'd been burdening himself with for a long time. Riley let her hand fall atop his, her soft eyes already waiting for his when he turned to meet her gaze.

"You were my person too."

Night had fallen by the time Riley and Carl came back to the house they were staying in. The air was wrapped in a frostbitten chill that whistled with the wind and threaded itself into the branches of the trees. The day was at its end. Although it proved to be a good one, a useful one, Riley was quite thankful for its closing, as exhaustion was tugging at her ruthlessly, and all she craved was a drink of water and the soft cushions of the pillows she'd slept on the night before.

Carl shut the back door quietly, locking it tightly and securing it with a chair underneath the knob. They dropped their bags of clothes and food by the kitchen table, too tired to put anything away now and instead saving it for tomorrow's day. They walked into the living room, footsteps eerily silent and breaths shallow as not to make too much noise. It was dark, only slivers of moonlight slipping into the house and offering up a blue tint. Nothing had changed since they left, nothing at all. That fact stood lonely and gruesomely plain in sight, offering Riley's subconscious a worrisome feeling.

"Carl-" Riley whispered, her eyes trained on a figure in the dark. Sprawled across the sofa, Rick still laid there completely unconscious.

"I know." He cut her off quietly. His tone carried no sense of harshness or annoyance, but instead possible disappointment, maybe even fear.

Before either could ask what they should do or offer any sort of solution, a wheezing cracked the silence in half like the split of a rock. It was choked, it was inhumanely scratched and strained, and the sound tore through the air like nails on a chalkboard. Riley's skin crawled. She glanced over at Carl, who shared a look with her willingly. It was strange, this new sense of a healthy friendship they had began to grow that day, but Riley wasn't complaining. She was just trying to get used to it.

They stepped forward carefully, Carl taking off his hat and setting it on the ground below. He leaned over to try and peer at his father's face when a hand shot up to try and grab hold of his wrist. With a gasp, Carl jumped backwards, pushing Riley farther behind him to the opposite couch to which he'd stood by in the next second. His legs began to shake as he stared at the pale and bloodied frame in front of him, letting his knees fall weak as he sat down. Riley looked between the two uneasily, silently praying that the benefit of the situation would fall on their side. Just for that one night. She sat down next to Carl, dropping her arm to her side so that she could grip the handle of her knife. Her palm was slick with sweat.

A crash sounded loudly as Rick's rasping body fell from the couch, the fall discouraging his failing breaths. His arm reached out toward the two, fingers achingly weak in the shine of the moonlight. Rick groaned, his throat scratching the soft breaths of air and turning them into monstrous hisses. Riley felt all the blood drain from her face. She hadn't considered it, hadn't even thought it possible throughout the day, but now it was beginning to dawn on her. Had Rick possibly ran down his life for all it was worth while his son and the girl were gone? Had he fought as hard as he could to keep the reigns of his survival in check but eventually fallen victim to the addictive coos of death? Did his heart finally stop beating and allowed his spirit to leave the world he tried so hard for only to face disappointment yet again? Was Riley left facing the empty carcass of his body now possessed by nothing except the savage drive to kill even his only living child left?

A sob mixed with the broken gasps of air throughout the night. At first, Riley thought it might've been her, but her face felt abnormally still, not worked up with tears and the stinging of fear and pain. She looked to her left, and saw Carl, gun up and pointed at his father. The liquid of his tears were glimmering against his skin, the strong front he'd forced himself to hold up since the fall of the prison shattering like glass on a stone pavement. His arms began to tremble with fatigue and defeat, his cries becoming more childlike, more heartbroken, exactly like a little boy who'd just lost his father.

"I can't," He sobbed. The gun fell, clattering onto the floor and stuck loosely in his hand. His head was drawn down like gravity was dragging him to the earth's core as another bawl racked his body. Rick's wheezing grew louder, his hand grasping Carl's foot with earnest intention.

Riley looked over at him, her own self frozen in fear and distress. Carl picked his head up, turning a little towards her but not making eye contact. His face relaxed as tears streamed down his cheeks like an overflowing river.

"I was wrong." He whispered. "I can't do it."

The girl instantly was swept under a wash of understanding. Putting down one parent was hard enough, but a second? She didn't know if it was possible for anyone. She slid her palm over the gun's cold surface, the texture bringing goosebumps along her skin. She gently tugged it out of Carl's grasp, and he let her. His eyes flitted open widely, staring at her with a broken expression of loss.

"Just do it. Don't make me." His voice was a plead, the whites of his eyes turning red from the tears that overworked them.

Riley looked at Rick, a nauseous feeling grasping her in a chokehold. No. She thought silently. She didn't think she had it in her to put him down. Not now, not ever. Never would she try and force Carl to do something anywhere along the lines of that, but she couldn't force herself to either. She felt an unbeatable amount of pressure, like a suffocating weight was dropped onto her and she couldn't move it with anything she had in her. First Hershel, then the prison, then Meg, then the rest of her family and friends, now Rick? Pain was inevitable. Everyone experienced it, no one had a choice. But was there ever a limit? Wasn't there a point when the universe decided you've had enough guilt and sorrow to deal with? Didn't the world ever think to itself, enough is enough, any more of this unspeakable pain will crush them to the point no amount of time or support will heal it again? Because that's what Riley felt like. Losing Rick, putting him down whether it be her or Carl would be the endpoint. After that, there was nothing. Nowhere else to go and no one else to lean on but each other.

Riley shook her head, eyes stinging with the burn of tears she refused to let fall. Her eyebrows pinched and her throat grew tight as she gripped the gun forcefully, knowing damn well she wouldn't put it to use. "I can't."

"Carl." A shredded murmur rose from the deafening silence. Both teens snapped their focus to the body crawling on the floor in an instant. "Riley... don't go outside... stay safe."

Those were the only words Rick could force out before his whole body grew limp, collapsing like a sack of dead weight on the cold wooden floors. Riley felt a hot breath of air escape her mouth, hands dropping the gun without hesitation. She turned to Carl, a part of her wondering if she'd just imagined the whole thing in desperate attempts to save herself any more grief than she could handle. But there the boy sat, staring at his dad, a hiccup departing from his lips before he broke down into a fit of sobs. Almost instinctively, Riley slid her arms around his shoulders, feeling the way his body melted into hers like they were one. His face was hidden in the crook of her neck, his tears wetting her skin and bleeding through her clothes, but she didn't care. His arms wrapped around her waist, although they didn't tighten, just hung there loosely like the contact itself was enough to sustain him the mobility to allow himself the comfort. Riley held his frame close to her, her palm tapping slowly yet rhythmically to his back to provide the support she offered him like a safe haven bearing open arms to those who'd reached their own happiness after a life long sentence of suffering. Her eyes stayed focused on Rick, making sure his chest still heaved- even if shallow- to make sure he was still alive, still breathing. She stuck her foot out, laying her ankle in the man's open palm, trying to gain a sensation of connection to him after the bloodcurdling fear she felt when his life nearly tumbled from her hands like a rock down a cliff. When Riley felt secured enough in both Grimes' men's touch, she let her body drain of any stiff stress that she'd held onto, leaving her focus on cradling Carl's figure like her life depended on it.

Again and again like soothing clockwork, Riley's hand tapped the same rhythm repeatedly onto the boy's back as her other appendages wrapped themselves bindingly into his hair. Soon enough, his sobs stopped, his body ceasing its shaking. His uneven breathing tickled the hairs on her neck and his head stayed resting on her shoulder, but even after his whimpers and shedded tears fell off with discarded time, he stayed laying in her embrace.

Riley sighed, eyes closing with an overpowering sensation of peace, a break from the chaos she'd been drowning in for what felt like forever. Everything was finally okay.

a/n - this is by far the longest chapter i've written oml. if ur still here and reading this note i'm actually impressed and love u sm. as clearly shown carl and riley are moving back toward the friends path, and it only goes uphill from here!!

- i can't wait to start getting into the love trope BUT this is still a slowburn so it won't be right away unfortunately :( regardless, carl + riley content will be deliciously pure from here on so don't worry. i wanna make a ship name for them but i'm not sure what yet tbh, i was kind of thinking of carley but what do u guys think?

- i also feel like i didn't go enough into depth on the rockiness in carl and riley's relationship in the earlier chapters, so i might add a flashback scene to try and give that more detail !!

- lastly again thank u guys sm for the kindness and patience u show me it gives me sm motivation and i can't tell u how lucky i am to have such supportive moots on here and tiktok <33 comments and votes are appreciated and next chapter will come soon:)