Play Crack The Sky

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"What they call love is a risk 'cause you always get hit out of nowhere by some wave and end up on your own."

I awoke the next morning with every fiber of my damn being in pain. My head pounded, my eyes felt sunken, my stomach was a wreck. I wished I didn't remember anything from the day prior, but I did. I remember Merle, I remember Daryl, I remember telling him I love him, I remember drinking. Everything got fucked up pretty bad and I can't tell who's to blame. Me? Merle? The Governor? Or maybe no one's to blame.

I eventually stumbled out of bed, avoiding as many members of the group as possible. I made my way to the upper catwalk-type thing outside the prison--what the guards would use to supervise the whole yard. I sat in the center of this one section as I watched the walkers surrounding the fence. Some of the group was dealing with them while others did their own housekeeping tasks. And here I was, sitting alone.

I couldn't help but think back to the events of yesterday. To think about the anger in Daryl's eyes as I bad-mouthed his brother, and how that quickly changed when I said those three stupid words. To remember the way he looked at me before he left for who knows how long. Consumed with my thoughts, I paid no mind to the new tears that resurfaced. They were just there and gone, a vicious cycle I couldn't seem to break.

After some time, I heard the door that led to this pathway open. I turned to see Carl timidly sneaking past the doorframe. I gave a weak smile while wiping my cheeks. 

"Hey, Squish," I said. Carl smiled and sat next to me. "Your dad send you after me?" I asked playfully. Carl giggled. 

"No," he said, "I wanted to see you." 

I couldn't help but smile at his words. My chest rolled with butterflies of love. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," I apologized, looking at my fumbling hands in my lap. 

"Don't be. A lot happened, I get it." I looked over at the boy to find he was already looking at me. I nodded, silently agreeing with his statement. "Do you miss him?" Carl asked. 

I nodded, quietly mumbling, "Yeah." 

"Are you mad at him?" 

"No," I answered with a shake of my head, "it's all Merle's fault. If he wasn't such a fucking douchebag-" 

I stopped myself when Carl placed his hand over mine. I looked at our joined hands before taking a deep breath to calm down. 

"I'm sorry," I mumbled in a whisper. I rested my head against Carl's shoulder. He took off his hat, laying it beside him.

"I'm scared, Carl," I admitted. 

"About what?" he asked. 

"I don't want him to die." 

"Daryl's strong and smart, he won't die." I sighed. 

"There are very minimal things that make a Dixon do something stupid. Daryl has two: his brother and me." Carl was quiet for a moment as he carefully maneuvered our hands so our fingers laced. I watched as he did so. His hands were still so small in mine. 

"He's not gonna die," he stated. I sniffled and nodded, leaving it at that.

I lifted my head off Carl's shoulder, shaking lone straggles of hair out of my face. Our hands were still held together. 

"What was your favorite thing about your dad?" Carl asked. I looked at him, seeing the curiosity swimming in his blue eyes. I smiled, looking back out to the field. 

"He never gave up on me," I said. "That was all I ever needed from him. I just hope that, wherever he is, he still hasn't given up on me." Carl stayed quiet, taking this all in. I looked at him to see him smiling. "What was your favorite thing about your mom?" I asked in return. He chuckled to himself. 

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