Carl grimes imagines/oneshots

We'll be ok (angst/fluff)

Song: Everything works out in the end - Kodaline

WOAH PAUSE WAIT A MINUTE HOLD UP REWIND I KNOW YOU SAW THE SONG BUT I PROMISE YOU THIS IS NOT I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A CARL DEATH ONE SHOT I PROMISE YOU

Ok now onto the trigger warnings
Child abuse, domestic abuse, parental death

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"NO DAD! NO!" Carl held you as you watched your father be torn to shreds. He held you tightly as if you were trying to break free but you weren't. You just stayed there holding onto Carl as you sobbed and screamed. He forcibly turned your head away and buried it in his shoulder. He loved you, he didn't want you to see this anymore.

He kissed the top of your head and held you close. "It's gonna be ok, we're gonna be ok."

He was eventually able to take you away from the scene and back home.

As soon as you left the RV you changed your demeanor quickly. You stopped talking and started walking toward your house, ignoring Carl.

You walked in and a mixture of anger and relief set in. Your father was terrible. Part of you was glad he was dead but the other part was jealous that you weren't the cause. You went up to your room and just started wrecking it. You threw things, ripped others. At one point you threw a vase at the wall and as it broke, the shards bounced off and sliced your arm. "Shit!" You were bleeding pretty bad.

You made your way into the bathroom where the first aid kit was and wrapped your bleeding arm in a washcloth while you pulled out everything.

Usually Carl was the one to bandage you up. He was the only one you trusted to do it, but you brushed him off and he wasn't there so you had to do it yourself.

You winced when you cleaned it but the pain was short lived. You wrapped the wound up tightly and stood up, looking at yourself in the mirror.

You examined your reflection and inevitably, your attention landed on your hair. It was unbelievably long. Your father wouldn't let you cut it because when he got mad he liked to grab it to make sure you couldn't go anywhere.

You hated how long it was. It always got in the way, it made you hot, it got caught in things, it was a pain to brush and it took forever to wash.

You opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the scissors. You looked in the mirror and held up your hair to see what it would look like short before you let it go and just started cutting. By the end of it you were surrounded by hair and what once reached your ass now sat just above your collarbone. You also cut layers and bangs. When you're done, you dropped the scissors on the floor and went back to your room.

You stayed there for days. Only leaving to go to the bathroom or get food but you never left the house. You barely even left your bed and you never cleaned your room from your outburst. Carl came and knocked on your door a few times every day but you never answered.

Today was different though, after the knocking stopped, you heard the front door open, and then close. Then footsteps up the stairs, and then knocking on your bedroom door. You stayed silent.

"Y/n I'm coming in whether you say something or not. I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine." You say in a blank tone.

"No you're not."

"And how the fuck would you know?!" You were getting snippy.

"Because I love you. And we've known each other since we were little." He was being so patient. "Look y/n can I please come in?"

"Yeah, fine. Do whatever you want." He opened the door and leaned against the doorframe, he had so many questions. "Your hair?" He seemed surprised.

"What? I was sick of it getting in the way." You still had an attitude.

"No it looks good, but you know you look beautiful no matter what." You tried to hide your smile when he said that.

He took a breath and looked around. "So what happened to your room?"

"I got angry."

He nodded. Then he saw your bandaged arm and his eyes went wide. "Love did you-"

You cut him off. "No I didn't relapse. I threw a vase at the wall and the glass bounced back and hit my arm. You can come check it if you don't believe me." You held your arm out.

"I- can I come sit with you?" He asks. He was so afraid of saying the wrong thing.

"Like I said do whatever you want." He was getting you to soften up and you tried your best to hide it.

He sat down next to and put his arm around you. You instinctually leaned against him.

"I know you're not ok. Will you please talk to me?" He spoke softly.

"I don't miss him at all. I honestly think I should've killed him sooner. I mean I know he's my father but some of the things he did... the way he treated me, I don't know, he just didn't act like a father."

He pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head. "Love it's ok. Bad people are bad people, blood doesn't change that. You don't have to tell me what happened but I'll listen if you want to."

"After my mom died he changed. He was always angry and I think he needed someone to take it out on and since I depended on him I guess I was an easy target." My voice started to shake. "He wouldn't let me cut my hair because he liked to grab it when he was angry. Especially when I tried to walk away, he'd just yank me right back."

"Love why didn't you tell me about any of this?" He seemed genuinely concerned.

"I don't know. When I'm with you I'm always so happy and I forget all about him. It's like all my problems just get forgotten about. Or maybe I just didn't wanna ruin the moment. Or maybe I still loved my dad and I saw what happened to Ron's dad."

He pulls you close and kisses the top of your head. "I'm so sorry honey." He pauses. "Im just glad that you're safe now. And just for the record, your hair looks fucking hot like that."

You laughed slightly. "Thanks."

He kissed you again. "We'll be ok."

A/N ok bitch I know this sucks but so do you and everyone leaves you alone so I expect the same treatment. Also no I'm not dead although I wish I was. Ok bye also I really wanna cut my hair ✂️

1152 words
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