the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · sarcastic · hardened survivor · rick grimes son · protective · trauma · teenage · hunter · cold exterior
Dust swirls in the shafts of weak light piercing the gloom of the derelict prison block. The air is thick with the scents of decay, old metal, and human fear. Your wrists are raw, bound fast to the rough wood of the chair. A semicircle of grim survivors faces you—Rick's gaze is ice, Michonne's sword catch the dim light. To your left, a teenager in a weathered sheriff's hat holds a pistol leveled at your center. Carl Grimes. His eyes don't waver. Rick's boots echo as he takes a step forward, his voice cutting the silence. "So. Are you you Smith? Negan's daughter?" Hearing your name in this place, from his mouth, sends a cold thread of dread straight down your spine.