Hello! I know, I haven't written on in quite a long time. Almost two years, huh? Well, here's a Carl Grimes fan fiction for you!

I was listening to Dead Hearts by Stars and it made me think of Carl. I totally didn't cry, pfft. So, yes! Much of the dialogue within this fiction is based upon the lyrics from the song, so I suggest you listen to it while reading so you receive a much better dramatic feeling.

watch?v=JGHfIR6PK7M

Anyways, please enjoy and leave a review or rating if possible! ^.^

The sound of boots marching back and forth between the halls had caused the brunette to rub his hands together in a rather nervous manner, his dirty brown hiking boots going on to make it's own rhythm as he tapped them lightly against the tile floor. Carl was the last one. Everyone else had already received their turn of being able to speak with the psychologist in order to make sure they were stable enough to stay in this safe haven the military had now begun providing; stable enough to see if they could fix them or just shoot 'em dead instead of tossing them back out there to the land of where the walkers had wandered.

Mercy of the living? It didn't feel like, but it was.

The brunette had nervously licked his lips as he glanced around the small room, his blue peepers fixating out of the inside window by the door that would lead you back into the hallway, the group of military men conversing just making his stomach turn into knots much more.

Daryl, Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Eugene, Abraham, Tyreese, Sasha - everyone; how had it gone with them? Were they accepted in? Were they provided 'mercy?' What happened to them?

Carl had only seen a few of them that had went inside come back out into the small waiting room before being ushered back out into the hallway, but after that he didn't see them again. In fact, he didn't see some of them that had went in come back out at all, and that didn't leave a good feeling to rest inside of his stomach.

Reaching a hand up to scratch the side of his neck, Carl had let out a faint sigh before he went on to stand, soon walking over towards the window next to the door that lead into the hallway, his blue peepers curiously cruising over each and every single soldier that stood there and shared conversation and the few that had just continued to stroll by until he couldn't see them anymore. It wasn't like they really saw him, anyways. The room he had been in had been rather dimly lit, and not one of those military men had spared him a second glance as they continued on with their business.

Just as Carl had placed his hand on the doorknob and had been on the verge of opening up the door despite restrictions, he had felt a hand suddenly touch his shoulder, but he didn't flinch since the weight from it had been familiar. Turning his head, the young man had stared up at his father who had soon gave him a small nod of their head.

"They wanted me to tell ya' to head on back there. It's your turn to talk."

The door gave off a small thud as Carl shut the door behind him, his baby blue colored depths gazing around the room in curiosity and fascination as he subconsciously held his breath, not a spec of dust to be found. Not even an ounce of it resting upon the half empty book shelf blocking one of the windows that allowed you to gaze outside.

It was as if while everyone was out there struggling to survive, they were busy playing a game of house keeping.

"Please," The woman in the white jacket at the desk had suddenly spoke, causing Carl's gaze to snap over to her. "Take a seat."

Mumbling a small 'of course,' the brunette had sauntered over to one of the faded green colored chairs, a dry and what had appeared to be an old coffee stain resting on the right upper corner of the cushion. Normally, this would have bothered him; but that was in another life, another time. Things changed. Everything changed.

What didn't change?

"Tell me everything that happened," The psychologist had spoke. "Tell me everything you saw."

The brunette's blue peepers continued to wander around the room as he rubbed his unsteady hands together, his eyes soon landing on the woman momentarily as he gave his answers. "They had lights inside their eyes," He had said, soon continuing after a few seconds due to the puzzled looked upon her face. "Life. In their eyes. They had it." They had it.

"Metaphors?" The woman had said in a questioning tone, soon giving a small nod of her head before pausing for a few seconds, though she had quickly picked up pace afterwards. "Well, did you see the closing window? ..Did you hear the slamming door?"

Carl had found himself glancing downwards, staring at the dirt decorating his hiking boots before he had looked back up, his eyes just know noticing the door on the other side of the room? Is that where the others had went? Is that why he hadn't seen 'em again? "...They moved forward and my heart died."

"Please, please tell me what they looked like; did they seem afraid of you?" The woman had questioned, scooting forward in her seat, obviously interested in what the young man had to say.

"They were kids that I once knew." Carl had simply answered in a mumble, obviously growing uncomfortable with the topic.

After this answer, the psychologist had fell silent; not a word being uttered from either on each side of the room.

"Did you touch them, did you hold them? Did they follow you to town?"

With the sheriff hat resting on top of his head, Carl had peered at the woman sitting at the desk knowing she wouldn't be able to see his face entirely. His silence remained as he thought about some of the children at the prison; Lizzie and Mika. He had enjoyed their company and overall they had enjoyed his, but they did make him feel rather bad whenever he had to show that he was a figure of authority.

They're not people. We don't name them!

"They make me feel I'm falling down.." They made me feel. Past tense.

"Was there one you saw too clearly? Did they seem afraid of you?"

Carl's lips had formed into a firm line, his mind racing with one name over and over again, filling him with anxiety; Beth, Beth, Beth, Beth, Beth, Beth, Beth. "They were just kids that I once knew." Carl had said, agitation clearly filling his once hushed tone. "They were just kids, alright?! They were just kids that I once knew!"

"You need to calm dow-."

"Don't you get it?!" Carl had shouted, quickly jumping to his feet, his fist angrily shaking at his sides. "They were kids that I once knew! THEY WERE KIDS." The brunette's face had became red as he continued shouting, soon pointing an excusing finger at the psychologist. "I KNEW THEM. I FUCKING KNEW THEM, DON'T YOU GET THAT?! I FUCKING KNEW TH-." Rough hands quickly wrapped around Carl's waist and begun dragging him away to the door on the other side of the room, and despite his kicking and flailing; he was not set free.

"THEY WERE KIDS THAT I ONCE KNEW! KIDS! AND, NOW THEY'RE ALL DEAD HEARTS TO YOU!" With tears freely flowing down his cheeks, Carl had found himself prying at the arms laced around his waist, but there was no point. They wouldn't budge! "THEY'RE JUST DEAD TO YOU!" He had shouted, his view on the female becoming few as he was drug inside the room. She hadn't even been paying him attention now. "THEY'RE JUST DEAD HEARTS TO YOU, BUT THEY WERE KIDS THAT I ONCE KNEW."

Sophia. Lizzie. Mika. Patrick. Beth. Zack.

They're just all dead hearts to you.