The boy's moment of peace ended shortly after, hearing heavy yet quiet footsteps approaching the cell. Ford shuffled away a bit. Hoping Carl got the hint that the group didn't exactly like that they were 'together'. But Carl reached out and grabbed his shirt, waiting for the person to enter the cell. They both looked up once they did, seeing a gruff man with Georgia blue eyes shining as he stared at the young boys. Carl and Ford stilled, staring at Daryl, who looked on the verges of anger and disappointment. Ford finally spoke.
"What happened to him..?" He asked, referring to the man that hurt him, Daryl stared a moment longer before responding. "He's dead... Rick took him out." Ford was about to question why Daryl didn't. But got an answer before he even opened his mouth.
"I ain't gonna protect some nasty as faggot. Even if he is my brotha." Ford's heart crumbled. Eyes dulling before he simply nodded. "If that's your final word. Go away.." Daryl turned on his heels and walked off. Ford let a shaky breath out as he turned to Carl again, undamaged arm wrapping around the boy.
"I'm sorry.." he whispered quietly, getting a slight nod in return. "It's ok"
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The night passed slower than normal, the boys arms around one another until dawn broke and the smell of food came through the air. The two boys slowly got up and shuffled through the cell. block, rubbing their eyes slightly. Everyone they passed seemed to inch away. The talker's eyebrows knit together as this continued through breakfast, nobody sat with them.
The two boys quickly became two loners in a group of people that shunned them. The two were confused, they hadn't told anyone and Daryl found out about them last night. Ford let his mind click the pieces together, eyes darting across the room to stare at his older brother who held a neutral, but disgusted, face on as he stared back at Ford. "God damnit.." Carl looked at him, hand resting on his lap as he ate his breakfast. "I... it's nothing, Carl." The younger was oblivious to the staring. He knew full well they were staring at them, they were judging them. He knew but didn't say anything. He wanted Carl to stay clueless to it all. Wanted him to still talk to everyone like normal and hope they did the same.
Ford was fuming. Angry and upset with the world. In a zombie-ridden world, one would think nobody would care who dated who. But apparently they did. It was nonsense. Garbage. Bullshit. And that's what Ford said.
"Bullshit... This is bullshit.." He mumbled, finishing his food and moving to wash his plates. Shuffling away from everyone and waiting for Carl to finish his own meal. Once both were done they walked back into the cells. Looking toward Hershel's cell, Ford swallowed thickly.
He wanted everything to go back to what it was before zombies. Before everyone was in fear. Before everything. He didn't care if his father would beat the shit out of him. Or if his brothers didn't know he was gay. He didn't care if he went to care with bruises. He didn't care if he had never met Carl.
His mind backtracked before holding that thought of Carl and crumbling the words up. He rewrote it mentally.
He's care if he had never met Carl.
He'd hurt. He would be in so much pain. Everything was easier with Carl. Talking, listening, smiling, laughing. Everything was so much easier with him.
Everything.
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Ford's shoulders slumped as he walked into his cell, hands moving to peel his shirt off his sticky skin. Groaning in soft disgust before he felt a hand brush against his back. Everything froze up. Every muscle every thought. Then the hand moved till it rested on his lower back.
"Jus' me.." Ford slowly nodded and started to relax a bit. Just a little. Then Carl guided him to the bed before nudging Ford for him to sit. So the older did as asked. Sitting and letting Carl touch and rub his back.
Everything was so much easier toward Carl"
[Word Count: 699]
EDITED
GRAMMAR, SOME SPELLING, ADDED CHAPTER NUMBER TO TITLE.
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F O R D|| L O N E L Y ||(TWD)
Fanfiction!!!PREVIOUSLY!!! DIXON'S YOUNGER BROTHER --------------------------------------------------------------- Ford Dixon was the youngest of the three Dixon brothers, just barely twelve years old when the world went to shit. A stubborn, quiet, almost shy...
