Things we lost | c.g fanfic [heavily editing bc I suck]

Chapter 23

Everything's gone. The prison, Hershel, Judith...Caden. We don't even know if Daryl survive. He's the closest thing I've ever had to a father figure. And now he's gone. Everything's gone.

"Daryl, Tyreese, Carol; Maggie and Beth, Hershel, Michonne..." Carl mutters under his breath. He's walking in front of Rick and I, leaving only me supporting the beaten man who can barely stay on his feet. Rick hasn't said a word since we left and I don't blame him. I think everyone's just speechless. None of us even know where we're going, we've just been walking. Just walking. I know what Carls doing. He's naming everybody from the group he presumes dead, but avoiding the name of the baby I was supposed to take care of. It's my fault. I handed her to Tyreese, he promised she'd be safe. But now...? It's all my fault. Maybe if I'd stayed with her...

"Carl," Rick mumbles as we reach a cluster of abandoned houses. I can only hope they're abandoned, we can't deal with anything else. We just can't. The brown haired boy in front of us doesn't stop. "Carl."

I put my free hand to my neck, feeling the silver locket from under my shirt. Huh. It's my birthday, isn't it. A sudden wave of rage ripples through me at this thought. "Carl, stop!" I yell. The words sound demanding, as they are. He spins around, obviously agitated.
"What?" He shouts.
"These are as good as any." Rick states, gesturing to a few large panelled houses. The white colour they once were had been mixed with the causality that is life and slowly turned grey. We walk towards one that looks as if it could've been untouched...if the door hadn't been literally smashed open. Carl just pushes what remains f the splintered wood aside and walks straight in, without checking for walkers.
"Shit!" I curse under my breath, pushing Ricks' arm off of my shoulders, making sure he's stable before I run up to the porch. Rick limps behind me and I grab my gun from its holster. Standing at one side of the doorframe with Rick at the other side of it, we count from three.

"Three, two; one-" I throw the door open to see Carl leisurely strolling down the hallway.
"Carl!" I shout. "There could've been walkers! You could've died-"
"Sh!" Splutters Rick. "There might be some upstairs."
"There's not," Carl growls. "They would've come down by now." I shake my head in disapproval.
"Not if they're stuck in one of the rooms." I sigh, placing my head in my hand. "God, Carl. Think these things through."
"We would've heard it!" He shouts, angered.
"Well not necessarily!" I shout back. He cuts me off by banging his fist against the wall, causing me to jump.
"Hey asshole! He shitface! Hey-"
"Hey, watch your mouth!" Rick demands, stepping in again.
"Seriously?" He shouts, laughing in disbelief at the end of his sentence. "They would've come out by now."

An hour and a half later, we had everything set up in our little respite. Much to Carls disagreement, the couch which Rick has passed out on, has been pushed against the door. Carl started shouting about how the 'Clove hitch knot was strong enough to stop the walkers.' I'd called bullshit. It was tied by a wire. That couldn't hold out a fly. So I'm sitting here, basically alone, sitting on the cold floor as Rick is dead to the world on that couch, with Carl upstairs. Who, may I add, has been switching from sulking, to breaking things for the past twenty minuets. I don't blame him, but I can't handle him like this by myself. Shit, I can't even handle him with Rick. He's grieving, I know because I still am from Tom. Losing a sibling... I didn't want him to have too experience that.

I pick up the pristine glass next to me. It reminded me of before. I was going to keep it but instead in a fit of anger I throw it against the wall with a shriek. My face goes into my hands and I curl my knees up to my chest, sobbing. Everything's gone. Screaming; sobbing; gasping for air, that's what the next hour becomes. When I decide I need to get off the floor I walk upstairs slowly, pausing at the top of the stairs to dry my face. Look for a room to sleep in, that's what j need to do. I push open the wooden door to one of the bedrooms to see Carl. He turns his head and just glares at me.

"Get out." He demands.
"Excuse me?" I spit.
"Get." he comes closer to me, so we're inches apart. "Out." I push him away with both hands and glare right in his face.
"We've all lost people, Carl!" I shout. "It doesn't give us the right to act like little shits! Have you even bothered to ask your dad how he is? Or if he's okay? Because, quite frankly, all he has left is you and you're treating him like shit!" My voice rises to a shriek at the end. I walk out and slam the door before giving him the chance to reply. It's hard to believe that only hours ago he was telling me he loved me. That boy can get so cold. I walk down the hallway and push open the door to reveal a light pink room. It looks like it would belong to a seven year old girl. I shut the door and walk over to the bed before wrapping myself in the Disney princess comforter.

And The tears begin again.