#corralgrimes

                                 Though blue hues didn’t say way from the other for long, no they darted to look at Daryl when he wasn’t looking at him. He was pretty sure he never really looked at Daryl before. But he was looking now, even though Daryl’s hair was growing out long now. The dark strands covering up most of his face which didn’t seem right to Carl for some reason. Without thinking he sat up in his seat and leaned over to tuck the hair behind his ear, Daryl’s hand coming to curl around Carl wrist however, dark blue looking to him with a frown. Though Carl just smiled, “-- much better.” He says softly. “-- stop.” Daryl says but his voice held to malice or actual want for the boy to stop. “-- whatever.” Carl hummed and pulled his wrist through Daryl’s hold and sat back. Both of then quietly finished eating. 

                                Carl then stood and grabbed their bowls putting them in the sink, “-- we should see if we can find more food and water in the other houses.” He then says turning back to look at Daryl who had pushed the other half of his hair behind his ears. Letting out a small breath he looked at the older man for a moment, leaning back against the counter. “--huh.” He says which would have been followed by more words but Daryl was standing up and cutting him off. “-- we also need ta’ secure the doors and windows better if we’re gonna’ stay here a bit longer.” Nodding Carl pushed off the counter and moved to pull his gun from his holster to see how many bullets he had. 

                             “-- fine then I’ll go look for food and you stay here and you secure the doors.” Carl says pulling the mag out counting six rounds. “-- or we can do it together.” With a huff Carl looked up to Daryl as he shoved them back into the gun and heard it click. “-- we’ll get more done if we split up.” He offers in a slightly irritated tone. Daryl pressed his lips together, “-- besides you’ve seen it out there, it a ghost town.” “-- ‘cept the ones hiding in the shed outside.” “-- then I won’t go near any sheds, I’ll be fine.” 

                                Silence passes between them, “-- ya’ don’ go no further then three houses down, then ya’ head right back or I’ll come lookin’.” Carl smiles knowing he won and tucks his gun back into his holster. “-- thank you.” Daryl shakes his head and sighs, as Carl walks over to him and takes his hand. His feeling so small in Daryl’s, fingers curling so he could give it a squeeze before he was letting him go ad heading back upstairs to get his hat. And grab a backpack from the kids room, dumping out old school books.

                            Daryl rubs his temples before grabbing his crossbow and heading to the front door so he could  look outside, it seemed quite out there and he certainly fucking hoped it was. He didn’t think he would survive the guilt of letting Carl go of on his own and he got hurt. He then turns to look around for tools that might be in the house, maybe he could add extra locks to the doors and maybe get up a small fence. He finds a small tool box but figured the bigger shit might be out in the shed where he killed the walkers. Heading out onto the porch he looks around again, sighing and moving to sit. 

                        Carl practically jumps down the stairs and heads out the open door to see Daryl outside. “-- I’m going.” He says and starts to make his way down the steps, “-- remember not anymore then three houses down Carl.” Carl give a  thumbs up but doesn’t turn back, “-- yeah, yeah or you will come kick my ass. I’ll be careful.” Daryl watches him leave with a frown, having to fight himself from following after. He wouldn’t be gone long, just three houses down he tries to reassure himself. 

                         Carl was at the second house and still it was quite, the door was lock so he shimmied his way into through an open window. His bag was half way full and if he was lucky he wouldn’t have to go to the third house. It was liberating to be out on his own, helping, doing what needed to be done. But another part of him wished Daryl was there, not that he would ever admit that out loud. Making  his way to the kitchen he checked the cabinets, finding a few thing that seemed good and not to far past the expression date along with a few bottles of water. He filled up his bag and sighed rubbing forehead, which was sweaty from the heat. 

                            A shuffle came from behind him and he thought it was Daryl, “-- c’mon I wasn’t even gone th-”Upon turning around Carl came face to face with a walker. It snapped his jaws and reached out or him. “-- s-shit.” He tried to grab for his gun but it got stuck and fell out of his hands. Before he could reach for it the walker was on him, hands grabbing at his arm which caused his shirt to tare. Pushing it away he turned to run around the kitchen to try and put some space between them, so he could think. It snarled and snapped it’s jaws at him once more. He looked around but couldn’t find anything that he could use to kill it.

                          Turning his back he saw the back door in the kitchen and tried to get out that way. It was locked and there wasn’t enough time to get it unlocked, panic and started to fill him to the point there where hot tears falling down his cheeks. The snapping get’s closer to him so he makes a b-line for the next door which only lead into a walk-in pantry room. He turns, tripping with his hand on he doorknob trying to get it shut. Though the dead thing wedged itself between it, make Carl try to kick it away but all it did was grab for his pants. He sucked in a sharp breath and choked out a small, “-- Daryl.” Before his foot found perch on the wall he he held the doorknob with both hands.  Tugging as hard as he could, seeing the flesh fall from it as he tugged harder. Trying to crush it between the door and the door frame. 

                            It would have worked to if the doorknob hadn’t broken off. “-- no, no, no.” Carl choked out as it fell on him, hands wildly reaching out to try and grab for something, anything. But found nothing, soon he needed to bring his hands back so he could try and push it’s head up so he could keep its mouth away from him. This couldn’t be it, he didn’t survive everything to just die in a pantry, with Daryl waiting for him to come back. He used his foot that still planted on the wall to kick off it so he could roll them over, sitting on top of it. He punched it in the head, over and over, thinking about all he lost to them. He was angry and still crying as he punched, thinking about his dad and his sister. He didn’t stop hitting until its head caved in and his hand was covered with blood, his face and shirt and pants covered and smeared it it as well. 

                             He huffed a breath and moved back away from it, letting out a ragged breath he curled up and cried. “-- I win.” He huffed out sniffing and letting out another breath. Looking to one more before he moved to stand up. his backpack was still on him, and he felt pain in his back from where it dug into his skin. He reached for his hat and placed it back on his head before sighing . He stepped over the walker and slid slightly in it’s blood. Grabbing his gun off the floor before heading towards the front door and leaving. Dried tears on his cheeks and tiny smile on his lips. 

                                                                     He won. 

                        Making his way back up the block he was quite and still holding his gun in hand. The sun was starting to set as he walked up the front steps, sad not to see Daryl outside. A bloody hand comes up to knock on the door, “-- Daryl.” His voice was small and horse. Licking at his lip as he waited, though he didn’t have to wait long. There he was, opening the door and looking at Carl with shock on his features. Which Carl could actually make out as Daryl hand pulled his hair back into a pony tail. It was that for him? Because he said something. The thought made a small sob rock his throat. 

                                                                                “-- Daryl.” 

                      Daryl tugged the smaller male inside as Carl dropped the book bag on the floor along with his gun. Turning around and didn’t have time to say anything as Daryl was now tugging him off the ground and hugging him desperately. Sniffing Carl curled into him, arms wrapped around his neck as a sense of safety washed over him. It made his chest clench and his limbs tingle.“-- we do things together from now on.” Carl says and closes his eyes burying his face into the older mans neck. Feet dangling as Daryl nodded, still holding him up. 

                                 “-- together.”