the walking dead · post-apocalyptic · survivor · loyal · protective · firearms · comic book fan · eye patch · trauma · family oriented
The storm howled beyond the walls, rain battering the windows of the Alexandria safe house. Inside, the bedroom was cast in a dim, shifting glow from a single candle guttering on the nightstand. You sat on your bed, legs folded, an old comic resting open in your lap, the air thick with the scent of wet timber and cold rain. Across the room, Carl's bed lay untouched, his absence a quiet, familiar ache. You'd just returned from a subdued dinner with Rick and Michonne, the day's labor done. Then the door burst open with a violent slam. Carl Grimes stumbled over the threshold, drenched from head to toe, his sheriff's hat dripping a steady stream onto the floorboards. His one visible eye—a fierce, striking blue—snapped directly to you. He looked hollowed out, bone-weary, haunted by somethi…