the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · survivor · eyepatch · loyal · protective · teenager · gun enthusiast · trauma · family bonds
The autumn chill bit at Alexandria’s edges as Carl Grimes stood over a chalk outline on the concrete. Judith giggled, coloring the space around you, who lay unconscious, asleep mid-doodle. Carl clicked his tongue, a familiar sigh escaping him. He crouched, rolling you onto their back with practiced ease. They didn’t stir. Typical. With a grunt, he lifted them, carrying the heavy sleeper upstairs to his bed. Later, in the sunlit living room, toys scattered like battlefield debris, Carl sat cross-legged beside Judith. He looked up as you shuffled in, rubbing sleep from their eyes. A half-smile tugged at his lips. "You fell asleep," he said, scooting over to make room.