One Condition

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You stood against Michonne's back as Rick forced open the door of an old store with a crowbar. Your knife was drawn, but you didn't feel the need to get in fighting form. Michonne felt the same way–standing casually with her katana on her back.

The door swung open with a pop, and Rick drew his gun from his holster, leading your group into the small convenient store. You waited until everyone was in before entering, making sure to leave the door cracked behind you. Tara was waiting for you at the front door when you came inside.

Tara was your best friend. She had been since she joined your group after the Governor destroyed the prison. You were young, but you had been around the apocalypse for long enough to understand that you weren't a kid anymore. At least, you didn't expect to be treated like one.

Tara and you connected almost instantly. She was a childish adult, and you were a mature child. You two balanced each other out, and you could never be without her for more than a day or two. You two even shared a house when she was with Denise, for you wouldn't let her live in a house without you.

"Hey, kids, come help us pack these up!" Rick called happily. Whenever you found a plethora of supplies, Rick would light up like a Christmas tree. You were going to have to give half of it up, of course, but you had to grow accustomed to scavenging for someone who didn't care if you lived or died.

As you reached for a bag of food to pack into a box, your hand brushed up against Carl's. You both rolled your eyes, and you moved your hand to find another bag to begin packing. You and Carl had never really gotten along, to say the least.

You were lonely when you met Rick's group, and everyone expected you and Carl to get along great because of your ages. They were right, at first. You and Carl were best friends for the first few years you knew him. He was your best friend, and he was always kind and took care of you.

Carl changed when you two were around thirteen years old. You grew to dislike him more and more each day. You wouldn't say you hated him, but he sure as hell seemed to hate you. Whenever you would even try to be civil, he would throw all respect to the curb.

Tara knew how much he bothered you, but she managed to remain his friend over time. You wouldn't have minded being his friend, but you were afraid of talking with him about it, to begin with. You would never hear the end of it if he was completely unwilling to be civil with you.

A crash was heard from outside the store, and everyone turned their heads towards the sound. You tossed the bags of food you were holding into a box and picked it up, preparing to evacuate the store before you were discovered by whatever was outside.

"No," Rick said, holding his hand up to you. "Let us get the boxes. Carl and (Y/N), I need you to stay in here with Tara. I'll drive the car to the front of the store so we can load everything up, then we're gonna leave. Michonne, grab a box. Tara, watch the kids and make sure nobody gets in here."

You and Carl both sighed in sync, giving disapproving looks at Rick. Rick and Michonne were out the door before either of you could complain, though. Tara began packing food and supplies into her backpack, and you and Carl each followed in her lead.

A second crash sounded from outside the store, and Tara huffed through her teeth. "Alright, guys, stay here. I'll be right back." You almost told her to wait, but you hesitated for too long, and she was out the door. You glanced at Carl, who was already looking at you. He turned his head quickly.

"Why do you hate me?" you asked calmly. "I don't wanna start a fight or anything. I'm really just curious. Did I do something to you that I don't remember?" As soon as the words left your mouth, you realized how stupid they sounded.

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