"Remember the first time you kissed me? It was on the cheek, outside of Hershel's quarantine zone. I remember feeling conflicted, because, I couldn't enjoy it. You were about to step into danger, and could've died. That's the first time I felt it, a...
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JANE PELETIER WOKE UP in the arms of Carl Grimes, as usual. She had been sleeping in his room ever since that night, because her slumber had been plagued with bad dreams ever since.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Glenn. Or Abraham. Or negan. And a new addition: Oceanside. She saw them lying everywhere with holes in their chests. She had done that. She had killed them.
When Carl wrapped his arms around her, it was like all the bad thoughts in the world couldn't penetrate his embrace. It was too powerful, and too full of love to allow any of her dreams to come back to her. It felt the same for him, because he too had terrible thoughts. Thoughts that he couldn't run away from - unless he was with her. Her hands held onto him, creating a spell-like barrier between them and the world.
She broke free of his grasp, getting up and sitting on the edge of the mattress. The floorboards creaked as her feet hit the floor, and she winced at the sound.
"You okay?" Carl said, in his groggy morning voice. "mhm," she hummed, turning to face him. She started to stroke his hair back with her fingers as his eyes drifted in and out of sleep.
She decided to leave him alone and let him get some extra shut-eye. After all, it was going to be a big day.
She went downstairs, Michonne and Rick undoubtedly gone again. They were always off fetching things for Negan like servants. Some people didn't like what Rick was doing - how he was giving everything to the saviours. But Jane never questioned him.
She always trusted him, even back at the quarry. If Rick grimes was around, there was no need to worry. Because he always had some plan - some malevolent way to get them out of a situation.
Years ago, when she was small, she had wanted to be like Carl - he was bigger, stronger, braver and less emotional. Now, being 16 and on the same side of the wall as him, she knew who she really wanted to be.
She wanted to be like Rick Grimes.
She groaned, rubbing her head with her hands as she realised she'd actually have to go back to her old room to get clothes. Everything still hurt, her throat not so much - but now the bruises everywhere else were pulsing with a horrid pain.
She forced herself up, and got to her old room successfully. It smelled slightly of Ellie, which made her feel horrible.
She looked through the drawer of clothes that people had donated to the both of them, most of it being Rosita's.
Shit. There was only three things left in the drawer. Some really, really short mint green shorts and a low cut top that would fit tightly to her figure. There was a belt there too, one hatched with intricate X's and O's.
