This is the sequel to Stale M&M's. I suggest reading that first if you haven't already, but it's not terribly confusing to go ahead and start here, you'll eventually get filled in.
The drawing above was by train-wreck101 on Tumblr.
Following the show, season 5 part 2.
Chapter warnings will be disclosed.
Welcome back into Oliver's head.
Struggling man has got to move
Struggling man, no time to lose
I'm a struggling man, and I've gotta move on
I'm a struggling man, and I've gotta move on...
I jolt awake. The air inside the van smells musky and stale, like feet; I take it in to get rid of the smell of blood — ghosts don't just trick your eyes, they trick your nose, too.
Do nightmares kill you?
No, that's stupid.
I listen to Carl's chest beating because it's easy to. His is speeding up, or mine is slowing down. That happens. Sometimes Carl and I are like anatomy mirrors. We'll reach for the same cup or glance at each other at the same time. He'll yawn and I'll yawn. I'll reach for his hand him and he'll reach for me.
Stupid.
His breath is warm inside my beanie hat. I can see, across from us, Michonne's necklace — the silver M catching the moonlight. I reach into my pocket for a small pink watch and hold it. Mika and Lizzie died months ago. Beth, about a month, I think. I still dream of them, always at the grove, always running, always chased by the dead. I'll find the house. They're waiting for me inside, but they don't let me in. I'll just hear Beth singing.
It's better now...
And the walkers get me.
"Nightmare?"
Startled, I look up and abandon the watch in my pocket again. Carl pulls me to him, clumsy from sleepiness but careful about his fractured knuckle, which is still healing, like my injuries. His chest smells of sweat and dirt and sweetcorn.
Carl sighs through my beanie. "Hope you sleep soon, Oliver."
Hugging him close, I shut my eyes and wait for him to fall back asleep.
About half way to Noah's place, Shirewilt, Virginia, and running dangerously low on supplies and food, we decide the next morning to loot a small mall in a town in South Carolina.
Once we make sure the place is clear, we split up into groups. Michonne, Maggie and Glenn take the grocery store. Sasha, Tyreese and Gabriel take the clothes store. Daryl, Carol and Noah take the armoury store. Eugene, Rosita and Abraham go to a home depot. Then finally, me, Carl, Rick, Tara and Judith loot the bath and body store.
"Toss in a few soap bars," Tara tells me.
"We'll need a whole fire-truck full."
"Ah..." She sighs. "I miss that thing."
I drop several colourful bars into the shopping cart Judith is sitting in. Rick pushes it, and has to stop her from grabbing things and trying to eat them:—"We'll get you some food soon, baby."
We keep scoping through, wandering past walls of strange smelling lotions and bath bombs. Rick checks in back for anything, and Tara decides to go outside the store to look over the empty mall from the railing, and since Carl and I are alone for the first time since the hospital, I decide to cross the room and ask him, "Kiss me?"
"What?"
"Before they get back. Velocemente!"
"Wait, I know that one. It's..."
"Quickly," I say.
"Right, right. Velocemente — quickly. Got it."
I'm hopping on the spot and he laughs at me, so I grab him and we're kissing and it's better than I remember. Then Rick is coming back from the staff rooms, Judith giggling from the cart, and Carl and I turn to separate shelves, catching our breath.
"Find anything?" Rick asks.
"Nope."
"Niente."
Rick goes outside. "Think we're done here. I'm going next door to the grocery store, see if I can find any more medicine."
When we're alone again, Carl turns to me. I think he might kiss me again but instead he asks, "Thought any more about what we talked about?"
"Err."
"You know..."
"Well, we talk about a lot of things," I say. "Science Dog, corn versus one-hundred-and-twelve-ounces of pudding, when it'll rain next — soon, by the way, I know."
"How do you know that?" Carl insists.
"I grew up in this climate. I know rain."
Carl waves his hands. "Anyway, I'm talking about Lorton."
I roll my eyes because I knew this.
"Well?"
"'Well' what?"
He sighs. "Going back to your home?"
We discussed it recently: going back to put down my parents. Turns out, one day might come closer than I was expecting.
"Look," Carl adds, "if you're worried about what my dad's going to say—"
"I'm not. I'll ask, okay?" I say.
"Good," he says, "because I'm not handing over the pecans this time."
I roll my eyes. "I'll do it when he's in a good mood. Or... tired, you know? Suggestible."
Carl snorts. "Ask, man... or you never will."
We head for the store exit.
"For the record," Carl says, "I think he'll let you do it. It's on route. What difference is two walkers? I mean... I know they're your parents. I just meant—"
"It's okay," I say.
My eyes roll and I turn and leave the store. Some of the others are gathered by the escalators. We meet them. Tyreese hands me a book he found; August by Bernard Beckett.
"Saw that you were getting close to the end of Tom Sawyer, so I figured this'd hold you out for a little while after."
"Thanks, Ty."
Everyone's here, so we head back for the van.
"I still feel weird walking out without paying," Tara admits.
"As a former cop, I'll let you off," Rick jokes. He holds the van door open. We get in the back, stuffed together like sardines. I get car-sick, so I sit closest to the backdoor — I already beginning to feel queasy, even before the engine starts. If it weren't for it, too, I would have already finished Tom Sawyer.
Before dark, we stop the van for the night by a lake, off road. Rick and Michonne set up their snares. Daryl goes off for a perimeter check and to hunt, and Carol joins him, and the rest of us set up camp by the shore and take turns to wash in the water. Privacy is a privilege around here, especially lately, so it's pretty normal now to see more than just a side boob or someone's privates if you aren't always checking where your eyes wander to. When it's my turn to wash, the lake water is freezing and I get told off for swearing about it, but it's good to get clean again; I mostly just try to do something about my hair, which is so long and messy that it hurts my fingers trying to brush it. I know that it's a dumb thing to be vain about, considering, but being a kid, it's hard for people to take me seriously anyway, and it doesn't help when on top of that I look like a pre-pubescent Neanderthal.
"Crap, that was cold," Carl says, mostly to himself, shivering beside me after his own wash, with a towel wrapped around his shoulders and another around his waist. He doesn't have hair issues, even though his is longer than mine. It's always so smooth. He turns to me, lips blue.
"Cold?" I joke.
Carl shoves me.
I put my damp towel around him.
"I don't think I'll ever see my balls again after this." His teeth are chattering. "They're hiding up under my lungs from now on."
"Aw, no."
He shoves me again and I bust up laughing.
Later, we eat around a high-walled fire. I picked up a can of cherries. "Ugh. Gross..."
"Swap?" Rosita offers. "I've got soup."
"Okay." Quickly, I sniff my cherry can. Rosita frowns. "Oh..." I hand it to her. "Sorry. I like the smell."
"And not the taste?"
I shake my head. "Thanks for the soup."
She begins eating slowly. "No... problem."
I have this pun book that I picked up a while back, and Tara's reading it, grinning and laughing to herself. She pushes the book into Eugene's lap and says, "Oh, man, you gotta read this one..."
By now, we're all used to her enthusiasm of puns, but Eugene still looks confused when he glances up from his mixed vegetables, mouth full. "What is it?"
She points at the page. "This one, please?"
Everyone's watching, smirks or confused expressions plastered over their faces, apart from Tara. Tara's already laughing her ass off.
Eugene huffs. "I'm not sure I'm willing to consent to this kind of highly personal ridicule."
"Oh! It's not 'highly personal ridicule'," she argues. "It's funny."
He narrows his eyes. Tara's still laughing, making "K" noises. It's making some of the rest of us laugh too.
"Come on, Mr. Porter?" I beg. "Read it..."
"Yeah, c'mon, Eugene?" Rosita says, then Glenn, and then Maggie.
Eugene sighs at us all, puffing out his cheeks. He's always a good sport, even if it might just be because he's working so hard to get back on our good side again.
He clears his throat. "Hmm. That's a good question, let me mullet over."
Late at night, I'm found reading under a blanket with a flashlight, by Carl, who pranks me by pulling the blanket up and growling. I almost stab him in the eye.
"Shit, dude," I hiss, shoving him. Shore pebbled crunch and crackle under us. Some bodies sleeping nearby shuffle and turn over, and Noah and Gabriel, on watch, look over at us.
"Your torchlight is coming through the blanket a bit," Carl says.
"Sorry," I say, "did it wake you?"
Carl shrugs. He looks tired. I shuffle to lie down with him, switching things off and shutting my book on a page number that I spend a few minutes making sure I'll remember.
"Love you," Carl whispers, suddenly.
I look at him. His eyes are shut, face pale under the moonlight.
"Love you, too, man."
Notes
I hope that was a nice welcome back. Here's to the sequel of Stale M&M's!
Happy reading.
