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The familiar sound of feet pitter-pattering along the wooden floor didn't surprise him at all. He knew Joanna got tired around this time. Turning around on the couch, he smiled at the 6 year old girl who rubbed her light blue eyes.
"Daddy, I'm tired..." Joanna whined, brushing the light brown strands out of her face. The man nodded, pushing himself off the couch and scooping up his child. Once they got into her bedroom, he tucked her in, pulling the purple bedsheets up to her chin.
"Can you tell me more stories?" Joanna pleaded, eyes eager with adventure. Her father always had stories of the early says in the outbreak.
He chuckled. "Jeanie, I barely have any stories left to tell you." The nickname always made Joanna smile.
"What about the people you met, there has to be more! What happened after you found the prison?" She pestered, almost shaking in anticipation to hear more about her father's crazy adventures fighting the monsters.
Glancing downwards, he took a moment to think. He knew of something. Someone. A pang of sadness seeped into his chest, but he brushed it away, ready to tell her about somebody special. Carl Grimes wasn't done with his stories just yet.
A remorseful smile played at his lips. "There was this one time as the prison that we found this girl...well, grandpa Rick did." He paused for a moment, recollecting at the memory. "Her name was Lauren."
"Lauren what?"
Carl bit his lip. "Lauren Jean Martin."
Joanna laughed. "She has my name!" Carl nodded, remembering wanting to name his child after somebody that he cared about. Joanna was the closest he could get, and the nickname Jeanie was always a way to remember his once loved one.
"And she..." Carl didn't want to continue, but her words replayed in his mind; sometimes he forgot what her voice sounded like. Have a happy life, for me. And that's what he was doing. For her. "She was...irreplaceable. She was strong, smart, but she wasn't happy. Some really bad things had happened to her, and...I helped her get happy again. She was...my best friend. And one day she passed away." Carl's breath caught in his throat, having to swallow to regain his ability to speak.
No matter how long it had been there were times that he thought of her and it suddenly got harder to breathe.
"Did you love her, like mommy?" Joanna questioned, Carl's eyes furrowing at the thought of his 6 year old daughter even comprehending what love was.
Carl nodded. "Yeah. I did." I do, he thought. But he couldn't bring himself to say that out loud.
"Did you go on adventures with her?"
A chuckle escaped the man's lips. "Lots of them."
Joanna's eyes began to flutter shut, letting Carl know that it was time to leave. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips softly to her forehead.
