Because of You | Maggie Greene ¹

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐢.

[ vi. not alone ]

october 10th, 2010

➸➸➸

CARL GRIMES HAD SUFFERED a relapse.

It was one of the most terrifying things for Greyson Hunt to have ever experienced, watching as one moment the young boy was awake and strong, ready to fight for his life, and in the next he was weak and unconscious, resting on Death's doorstep once more. In those few, brief moments when he had been caught between the light and the dark of life, all that Carl had wanted was to tell his mother about the deer in the woods, and instead he was greeted with a traumatic seizure. His little body had shaken so tremendously with pain and all that any of them could do was watch as he went through the motions.

It made Greyson sick.

It reminded him of little Lucy; the way that Lori had held her son's hand when he was there one minute, and then was forced to let go when he no longer wasn't. Lori's sobs had ripped through Greyson's ears and he had cringed painfully at the sound. He knew what she was going through, he knew the agony of helplessness, but no one should ever have been forced to go through such horror in their life.

That small episode was how Greyson found himself outside the farmhouse later that night, sitting on the banister that surrounded the porch. The cold air nipped at his bare and bloodied arms but he kept his narrowed focus on the fields. Greyson could hardly see anything beyond the porch's front, yellowish light and he tried to not let his cruel and sinister imagination get the better of him.

Greyson was not alone in his silence, of course.  Glenn Rhee was sitting on the porch swing behind him as well, currently pouring over a fresh, hot meal and it made Greyson's own stomach rumble again. Even after eating his own meal less than an hour prior, he was still convinced that he was going to starve. All he wanted to do was eat and eat until his growling stomach was content.

Several long moments passed before Greyson opted to look over his shoulder towards his best friend.  "Where are the others?" He wondered, breaking the cool and calm quietness of the porch.

Glenn swallowed another mouthful of steaming food. "Back at the highway," He answered. "They chose to stay with the RV in case Sophia finds her way back."

"Did you not find anything along the creek bed?" Greyson wondered.

"Nothing," He confirmed. "It's like we're hunting a ghost."

Greyson let out a small breath that he had not realized he was holding and clenched his icy blue eyes shut. He did not want to think of what little Sophia Peletier was doing out there beyond the shadows of the woods. He did not want to imagine her huddled beneath a tree, cold, alone and hungry. No child deserved that.

"Are you praying?"

Greyson's tired eyes hastily shot open at the familiar and intruding voice that he had already heard over a bazillion times that day. He swore that he could now recognize that voice from anywhere at that point. He knew that soft and strong southern drawl like the back of my his bruised hand already.