Everything was peaceful. The war against the Governor was over. They had food and a roof to live under. It was as if they were living a normal life.
They all had jobs to do. Wilmur's job was to go on runs with his adoptive father, Daryl Dixon. Carl's job was to stay at the prison and help his father, Rick, farm in order to give everyone enough food. Because of their jobs, Carl and Wilmur hardly got to see each other. Carl was busy farming all day and Wilmur was back from his run after sundown. However, at night, they meet each other in a part of the prison no one had found. They sneak around in there, but they don't do anything sexual. Wilmur would never do that until Carl was ready. Wilmur had attempted it once, but Carl told him to stop.
"Carl?"
The young boy turned his head to look at Wilmur. There was a smile tugged against his lips. His dark blue eyes were glowing in the dark.
"Yes?"
"Open your mouth again. I think I saw something in there."
Carl's eyes expressed curiosity. Was his throat still swollen from those stupid men from Woodbury attacking him? Hershel had told him it was okay for him to talk.
"You mean..."
"Yeah."
Wilmur's lover obeyed and open his mouth wide, exposing his gums, teeth, tongue, and throat. There was really nothing wrong with his throat, but Wilmur was up to something else.
"Wider." Wilmur said as he leaned in closer.
Carl's mouth opens wider.
"Wider."
Wilmur kept leaning closer and closer. He was obviously about to pull a trick.
"Wider.
Carl did as told and opened his mouth wider, only to receive a kiss placed upon his lips. Wilmur tricked him to kiss him. Wilmur laughed and Carl laughed along. However, Wilmur doesn't stop. He grinded Carl down and climbed on top of him, unzipping the zipper on his pants.
Carl quickly placed his hands on Wilmur's.
"Wilmur...I-I'm sorry but...I'm not ready."
Wilmur just smiled and climbed off him, ruffing his hair.
"Whatever you want. Tell me when your ready."
A smile sneaked it's way onto Wilmur's lips. Carl had grown so much. His brown hair was longer to shoulder length, but Wilmur didn't mind. His hair was cute when it was long. Carl's blue eyes somehow sparkle more than usual. Especially when they're around each other. Carl's entire face had grown. It was like he wasn't even the same person anymore. He smiled a lot more ever since him and Wilmur got together.
Rick had approved of their relationship. He said if Carl was all alone, he'd prefer to have Wilmur with him more than anyone else. he trusts Wilmur to protect Carl no matter what. He apologized to Wilmur for everything he's done to him and Carl. When Rick finally recovered from Lori's death, he realized how he hurt Carl. Rick started to go through depression. He was overwhelmed with what he did to his son. Every night, Rick would cry over it. Carl eventually figured what was going on with his father and talked to him every night. Carl comforted him and helped him get back on his feet just like Wilmur did to Carl. Finally, Rick and Carl developed a stable father and son relationship.
It was similar to Wilmur and Daryl. When he came back, Daryl was the one who took care of him. He welcomed him back to the group and made him feel comfortable like Carl did. Daryl had begun to teach him how to track and use a crossbow. Wilmur was like a champion at both.
Smiling, Wilmur stood up an looked at himself in the mirror.
His black hair had grown longer. It was near Carl's hair length, but not exactly. His dark blue eyes had somehow grew more shinier. His facial length had grown like Carl's did. Wilmur was starting to resemble more and more of his mother despite the hair and eyes. Meanwhile, Carl was establishing his own looks. Sure, he had Lori's lips and Rick's eyes, but he was starting to turn into a handsome young man.
Carl had grown stronger. He was becoming stronger and stronger everyday. He wasn't like a kid. He was like a young, strong man. Independence had taken over his childlike personality. Wilmur didn't mind it because he admired it, but Rick had a problem with it. He mourned for his son's childlike personality to come back. That's one of the only reasons why Rick made him farm. Wilmur didn't mind Carl's job, but he definitely needed another job at the prison. Carl was strong than farming.
Wilmur sighed while putting on black shoes with a white lightning strike across them. He was wearing a red long sleeve, simple shirt. His pants were black like his shoes. He never wanted to wear anything fancy. Especially while going on a run. Even before the apocalypse he still didn't wear anything fancy. Cloths wasn't going to tell who he was.
"Already getting ready?" Daryl grumbled.
Wilmur placed a smile on his lips and gave his head a shake.
"No. I always get up early."
"Cause' you wanna see Carl?" Daryl corrected.
A rose color formed on Wilmur's cheeks. There was once a tad bit of rose color present on his cheeks, but it disappeared over time as he grew older.
Daryl chuckled and placed a hand on Wilmur's shoulder. It was rare for Daryl to laugh or even chuckle. Ever since Wilmur came back to the prison, Daryl always smiled a bit more just like Carl did. Wilmur was the complete opposite of Merle. Merle was abusive and insane. Wilmur was loving and smart. Carol and Wilmur were the two people Daryl was closest to.
"Go on."
Wilmur smiled and walked out of the cell and into his lover's. Carl was still fast asleep. Usually, Rick would've already woken him up by now. Instead, Rick was just about to walk out of the cell block.
"Not waking up Carl today, Rick?"
Rick stopped his tracks, turning his head to look at his son's lover. Rick had somehow grown a little, too. Somehow, his blue eyes were smaller and the beard on his face grown. Not only appearances, but his personality completely changed as well. Carl had changed him from an insane and hurt man to a caring and stronger man.
Wilmur still didn't like Rick much, but he liked him better than he did before. Rick still treated Carl like a kid. Like he couldn't handle himself. Carl didn't have a problem with it anymore, but he was still a man. Carl was forced to watch his dear mother die. He was the one who had to put her down and had to deal with her death by himself. If Carl was put through that much, then he definitely wasn't a kid anymore.
"He was up reading comic books all night...he should probably sleep in." Rick said, causing a giggle to slip from Wilmur's mouth.
Carl's love for comic books only grew over time. Every time Wilmur went on a run, he would bring back a present for Carl. Sometimes, it would be comic books. Carl would freak out every time Wilmur brought comic books home with him. Even if it was just one. He'd always laugh at Carl's love for comics, but he actually didn't mind it. It always made the smile on Carl's face bigger.
Wilmur would do anything to keep the smile on Carl's face. He always risked his life for it.
"Hey." Rick said, grabbing Wilmur out of his thoughts. "Be careful on your run."
Wilmur placed on a weak smile and nodded.
"I always am."
Rick smiled, dragging his rough hand down Wilmur's neck, his normal gesture for Carl. He gave Wilmur a simple nod before walking out of the building. Wilmur smiled and sighed, walking into Carl's cell. The boy was fast asleep in his slumber. Comic books were piled on the floor while on of them laid in Carl's hand.
He was breathing peacefully. His breath was even with no snore sneaking in it. Sometimes, Carl would have terrible nightmares. Once, Carl even woke up screaming and jumped in Wilmur's arms. No one could calm him down except him.
"No! Stop it!"
Carl's voice made Wilmur jump out of his bed and onto his feet. His lover's crying voice sounded so heartbroken. The screams were uttered into his ear. Everyone in the cellblock was running to Carl's cell with Wilmur following along. He shoved the people out of the way to get to his lover. Carl needed him right now. More than anyone else.
Wilmur pushed the curtain out of the way to see Rick holding his squirming and screaming son. Rick couldn't calm Carl's heartbroken cries down. His screams were hurting everyone's ears. Wilmur felt as if he was about to go deaf.
"Carl! Wake up!" Rick yelled, shaking his squirming son.
Only Carl didn't wake up. He only screamed louder and squirmed more. His arms were legs were flailing and his arms were fighting against his father. Rick couldn't get him to lay still. Every time he tried, Carl's fight against his father would only grow stronger. Shouts were slipping through Carl's mouth. He was begging for who knows. No matter how loud everyone screamed in Carl's face, he still wouldn't wake up.
"It's just a dream, Carl! Wake up!" Beth yelled, gripping onto Carl's shoulders.
Carl screamed louder and cried harder, his begs only growing.
Wilmur quickly scrambled over to Carl's side, gripping his brown hair and doing the same as everyone else.
"I promise, Carl! It's just a dream! All you have to do is open your eyes!"
Carl tensed under Wilmur's gentle touch. He smacked his hand away and screamed louder. The grumpy people had already placed their hands over they're ears. The caring people stared with sympathy. The children stared with fear. A little girl, Mika, was clinging onto her older sister's hand, Lizzie. Tears were slipping down Mika's cheeks while Lizzie just stared with no emotion.
Wilmur reached for Carl's hand again, but Carl shoved him away, knocking him to the floor. Tears fill Wilmur's eyes. There was nothing he could do to wake Carl up, nor get him to calm down. He's never seen his lover like this, and he certainly doesn't like it. It breaks his heart to see his lover like this. They had a happy ending. Why was Carl acting like this?
"Carl! I promise all you have to do is open your eyes!" Rick said, shaking his son harder, but it only made things worse. Carl was fighting everyone like they were enemies.
Tears streamed down Carl's face like a rushing river. There was no way to stop the tears from pouring or streaming. Carl's cheeks were covered with nothing but tears.
"What do we do?" Beth cried. "If we can't get him to wake up, then what do we do?"
A single tear slipped down Wilmur's cheek. There was nothing to do but sit there and watch his lover scream and cry in fear. Daryl noticed the tear as well as everyone else. Beth stepped towards him, placing her soft hands on Wilmur's. She couldn't count on Rick. The only person who she could count on to calm Carl through his tears is Wilmur.
Wilmur had calmed and helped Carl through everything.
"Please, Wilmur." Beth whimpered. Carl meant so much to her. Before Carl met Wilmur, he had a crush on Beth. Before that, they were like brothers and sisters. She helped Carl when he got shot. She always donated food to him on the road. She helped get passed his mother's death. But now she can't help him...only Wilmur can.
Tears slip down Wilmur's cheeks as he gave his head a shake.
"Please. You're the only one who can help him."
Wilmur curled up his knees against his chest, clutching onto them, tear drops landing on the surface, creating damp spots.
"I can't. Screaming won't wake him."
"Then comfort him. Let him know you're here. Like you always did."
Wilmur stared at Beth with his teary eyes before darting them to the screaming Carl. Everyone's eyes were pleading him. Even Daryl's. Rick's eyes were filled with tears like his. They both hated seeing Carl like this. Wilmur was inexperienced with Carl's depressed side, but Rick's seen it before.
Rick's eyes were filled with sympathy as he stared at his hurt son. His eyes filled with plead when he looked at Wilmur.
"Please, Wilmur."
Carl screamed louder. Tears suddenly just bursted from his eyes. Packs of them were being loaded in his eyes and delivered on cheeks. It was as if a balloon busted. Not just his tears, but his squirming insanely increased. He was now slapping everyone who was touching, including Rick.
Wilmur sighed nervously, slowly pushing himself off the floor before walking over to Carl. He couldn't touch him yet. He'd just end up on the floor again. Instead, he placed a hand on Rick's.
"Carl, please." Wilmur said with calmness instead of yells. "I promise it's just a dream. It's all in your head. You're not there. You're here. In your cell. In your bed...with your family gathered around you. Just open your eyes, and you'll be here."
Slowly, Wilmur gently placed a hand over Carl's. His lover flinches, but doesn't smack away. If Wilmur kept it up, Carl's eyes should open in no time!
"I'm here...no terrible or disgusting person is here. You know I would never let anyone hurt you. They'd have get through me first. Probably even kill me."
The tears stopped bursting from Carl's eyes. The only tears were the ones that were left on his cheek, dripping down it slowly. The screams turned into small cries. Then the small cries turned into whimpers. Then the whimpers turned into quiet sobbing. Then the quiet sobbing turned into sniffles.
"I love you, Carl. You know that. I love you so much that'd I kill myself if it meant saving your life. Just open your eyes. I'd rather die than see you like this. Please, just open your eyes...please."
Slowly, Carl's eyes flutter open. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen. Any tears could spill again any second. A tear escaped Carl's eyes as he turned his head slowly to look Wilmur in the eyes. He had heard his voice in his nightmare and now he was sitting beside him, stroking his cheek to brush the tears away.
Rick's tears fell on his son's face. He thought he'd never wake up. No one's ever seen him like that. Carl was always such a strong boy. He was always courageous and braver than anyone in group. Even more than Wilmur. Fear was never an option for Carl. It was either be strong or be weak.
"Wilmur..." Carl sobbed, trying to sound strong but failed.
Wilmur smiled and wrapped his warm arms around Carl's shivering body, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead and leading up into his hair. Carl buried his face in Wilmur's chest, inhaling his sweet scent. Wilmur gently stroked his back and hair. He didn't care everyone was watching. He needed Carl to stop crying and calm down.
Tears slip down Rick's cheeks as he watches Wilmur and Carl embrace. Rick should be embracing Carl. If he hadn't walked out on Carl after Lori died, Rick would be the one embracing Carl, but he understood. Rick had left Carl behind and put himself first. Wilmur hadn't done any of that. Rick would understand if Carl wanted someone actually there for him.
Wilmur gently pulled away from the embrace, placing a gentle kiss on upon Carl's lips. His lips tasted salty from the tears, but it was good enough. Carl's lips will always taste bitter sweet. Wilmur would never be able to get enough of it.
"Ugh." Said a bunch of people that weren't even from their cellblock. A lot of people in the prison had a problem with them being together. Mika did. She always complained to her daddy about it. Though Wilmur can't actually defend for them because she's a little girl.
Rick and Wilmur gently lay Carl back on his pillow as everyone left the cell. Rick tucked Carl in while Wilmur softly mummered gentle words to Carl. The tears from Carl's eyes were gone, but were still staining his cheeks.
Carl wouldn't be able to fall asleep peacefully. Not after what happened.
"Away...away..." Wilmur sung. He always sings when someone he loved is upset. He did it to Penny a lot.
"I love you like you never felt the pain..." He continued singing. "Away...I promise you don't have to afraid...away...love is here and here to stay so you lay your head on me..."
Carl looked up at his older lover, his breath starting to even out from Wilmur's voice. It sounded so beautiful. He couldn't believe Wilmur never sang to him before.
"Little do you know I know you're hurting while I'm sound asleep..." He continues. "Little do you know all my mistakes are slowly drown in me...Little do you know I'm trying to make it better piece by piece...Little do you know I...love you till the sun dies."
Carl's night terrors were over. It was so terrible a little while ago. Wilmur ended up needing to sleep with Carl just to get him to calm down. When Wilmur started sleeping with Carl, his night terrors slowly calmed down. When his night terrors completely calmed down, Wilmur was forced to sleep in his own bunker again. He couldn't help but feel sad that he couldn't sleep with Carl anymore. It felt good.
The night terrors were terrible. It only got worse before it got better, but Wilmur helped. He helped make it better. It was a terrible time for them all. Especially Rick and Wilmur. All there was tears. He would always refuse to tell anyone what they were about. Not even Wilmur.
During the day, all Carl did was sit on his bunker and cry softly. Wilmur would always wipe away the tears, but it was hopeless to stop the tears from streaming. Wilmur would hold him in his arms and sing and whisper comforting things to him. At first, Carl would shriek under his touch. It always made Wilmur cry because there was nothing he could do to make his lover feel better.
Eventually, Carl got used to it, but it still didn't get any better. It made Wilmur feel terrible because if he hadn't came, Carl wouldn't be having all the night terrors. Soon enough, Rick would decide to let Wilmur sleep with his son, hoping it would make him feel better, and it did.
All of the night terrors, the screams and cries, it slowly got better. Every time Carl woke up screaming, Wilmur would drag him back into his arms and comfort him. When Carl tensed in his sleep, Wilmur would whisper things in his ear. When Carl completely recovered, he still slept with him for a while just in case it happened again. After three weeks of waiting for nothing, Rick made him sleep in his own bunker again.
"Wilmur?" Daryl said. "You ready?"
Wilmur sighed and smiled.
"We leaving already?"
"I mean for going to see Carol." Daryl corrected.
Wilmur looked to Carl's cell and gave a slight nod.
"Yeah, just a sec."
Daryl watched as his adoptive son walked in Carl's cell. He had everything he wanted. Daryl didn't expect to find a family who cared for him unlike Merle, nor did he expect to adopt a son. Daryl was satisfied with his family and son. He couldn't ask for anything more.
Like Daryl, Wilmur had everything he needed. His true love, a new loving father, and a caring family. It didn't matter if Wilmur was under a roof or not. As long as he had his lover with him, Wilmur would be satisfied.
Wilmur smiled as he looked at Carl's sleeping form. His eyes were still gently closed. It wasn't closed tight like Daryl's. When Carl had his night terrors, they're were always closed too tight. Sweat would always be dripping and soaking into his pillow.
A kiss is gently placed on his cheek, making Carl smile. Asleep or not, he would always feel Wilmur's presence. It was the exact same with Wilmur. His lover's presence walked out of the cell, gun in his holster.
"Okay, I'm ready."
Carl's eyes greeted the bright sunlight when he opened them. It shined right through his white curtain. Part of it was opening, letting the sunlight slip through. He didn't appreciate loud alarms. The sun was his alarm just like the moon was. The moon alarmed him that it was night.
Night time was his favorite time of the day. It always gave him a break and time to spend quality with Wilmur. They'd always meet in their secret spot in the prison when it was night. No one knew about the spot. It made it special. It made their private moments special.
They had stopped going there when he developed night terrors. It was one of the most horrifying things in Carl's life. Yet, he couldn't tell anyone about what he dreamt of. He was already stuck in a nightmare. Wherever he went, the darkness followed him. Wilmur had tried to get rid of it, but it took a long time to do so.
Wilmur even went through PTSD because he couldn't help Carl. Carl then realized how selfish he was being and tried to help himself, but it didn't work. His broken heart just refused to defend for itself. Him and Wilmur were both in terrible conditions then. However, over time, Rick let Wilmur sleep with him.
The day Wilmur started sleeping with him, the night terrors immiedently started to slowly get better. Every time he woke up from a night terror, he was secured in Wilmur's arms. His arms would keep him safe. His hands would soothe his body. His fingers would wipe away his tears. And his lips would give him the warmth of comfort.
Everything about Wilmur got rid of the horrifying night terrors.
"Dad?" Carl said, stepping out of his cell with his blanket wrapped around him.
The only thing that met him was the bright sunlight. It shined through the window bars and onto Carl's gleaming skin. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight. If it was the moon, his eyes would shine. Wilmur thought it was beautiful. Wilmur's eyes would glow. It made them both part of the moonlight. If it was a new moon, they'd be the moonlight.
Rick wasn't in the same room. It was probably sometime around ten o'clock. Rick would usually wake him up at eight. They'd work in the fields all day long until it was a little bit passed sundown. Carl would be exhausted by the end of the day, but not too exhausted for Wilmur.
Carl yawned before grabbing an over shirt and throwing it over his t-shirt. Then he put on blue jeans along with belt to hold stuff in. He didn't have a gun anymore. His father took it away after the war with the Governor was over. It was because he killed the young boy in the woods, but he only did it to protect his family.
Wilmur had tried to get Carl's gun back, but either Rick or Hershel caught him every time. It lead to nothing but arguments between Wilmur and Rick. All they did was argue. Most of the time, it was over Carl. It was as if they were fighting over him all the time. He knew Wilmur didn't like Rick much. It didn't bother him, but he wished for the two people he loved more than anyone to get along.
The thoughts followed Carl all the way out of the cellblock and building. The thoughts disappeared once he noticed his father working with the pigs. Hershel had found them in the woods. Daryl and Wilmur went to get them and brought them back along with a horse. Ever since then, the pigs kept breeding. When the piglets were old enough, they took their parents away and ate them. Then the piglets would grow up and mate. It was like a cycle.
"You didn't wake me up." Carl said when he was close enough for his father to hear.
"Cause' I knew you were up all night reading comics with a flashlight."
Carl shrugged and smiled. Ever since him and Wilmur's first kiss, he smiled a lot. Wilmur made him feel like the happiest man alive no matter how much pain he's been put through. Wilmur killed his darkness and brought back happiness to Carl. He's never been happy since before his father got shot.
The young teen looked to Violet, one of the pigs. She was laying on the ground, barely moving. The pig was a little bit paler and it's breath was hitching. All the other pigs and piglets were fine. However, Violet usually got sick easy. They don't ever want to eat her because of how much she gets sick.
"What's up with Violet?"
But he knew what was up. Violet was obviously sick. She got sick all the time, but never like this.
"Carl, I told you not to name them. They're not piglets anymore, they're food."
Carl frowned. His father usually had a problem with the most simplest things. He can understand why Wilmur doesn't like him. However, it wasn't something to get mad over. He didn't want to act childish, although he tried to be a child again. All his father wanted for him was to be a child. He wanted him to do teenage things like hang out with friends and read. Rick didn't mind if he didn't do school, but he at least wanted him to have a happy childhood even in the destroyed world.
"I just thought...you know, until..." Carl trailed off when he looked at his father stern face. "Okay."
Rick replaced the stern look with a look of worry. He didn't like being strict towards his son. He loved him too much to be strict toward him. It was impossible to stay mad at Carl.
"I don't know what's goin' on with her. Could be sick, could be nothing."
The pig looked as if it was dead. He wondered if it died, would it come back? If everyone was infected, didn't that mean animals were, too?
Rick clicked his tongue, trying to grab the pig's attention. "Get better...Violet."
Rick took a look back at his son, chuckling. Carl smiled again, making Rick happy. He didn't like the frown on Carl's face earlier. The smile didn't fade off Carl's face like it used to. Before Wilmur came along, Carl barely smiled. If he did, it would be the weakest and tiniest and shortest smile. When Wilmur came, the smile grew larger and longer.
"You know, you were distant before. Wilmur helped, didn't he?"
Carl smiled at the mention of his boyfriend.
"Yeah...yeah, he did."
The smile still didn't fade from Carl's lips, but his cheeks somehow grew rosier. Rick chuckled at Carl's blush.
"C'mon, let's get to it."
Wilmur and Daryl walked to Carol, who was cooking pig meat. The delicious smell filled Wilmur's nostrils. Before the prison improved, the only smell was blood and the dead. But now it was the smell of the regular prison and people.
Daryl handed Wilmur a plate with pig meat and lettuce on the side. He grabbed a water bottle and took a few sips before placing the first bite in his mouth. Pig was usually for breakfast, dinner, and lunch. However, Wilmur and his run team wasn't usually back for lunch or dinner. They usually have to eat while on the run.
"Smells good." Daryl said, grabbing his own plate.
Carol smiled, a smirk sneaking into the smile. "Just so you know, I liked you first."
"Stop." Daryl said and Wilmur chuckled.
Wilmur thought Daryl and Carol would make a good couple. After all, Daryl really cared for Carol like Wilmur did for Carl. Him and Carl and Daryl and Carol were the same. Once, him and Carl put Carol and Daryl in the same room alone together. Dinner was set on a clothed table along with candles. Wilmur and Carl were peaking through the door crack.
It was really awkward. Daryl and Carol were both blushing. They talked, but didn't confess their feelings. Wilmur and Carl had bursted into laughter. Then they both chased Wilmur and Carl down the prison, but they hid in their little, secret spot. They laughed so hard, their faces were too red.
"You know, Rick brought in a lot of them, too." Daryl said, talking about their newcomer, Bob Stookey.
Wilmur, Daryl, and Glenn ran across Bob alone on the road a week ago. His entire group died and then the next group died out. Bob was one of the few lucky ones. Bob was in a terrible condition when they brought him in. He was far too skinny due to starvation. The run team fed him everything they had. Each new day in the prison, he grew more weight. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
And now, Bob thought he was healthy enough to go on a run. Everyone, especially Sasha, was uncomfortable about it. But it was his choice. Everyone in the prison has a choice. It was Hershel's motto.
"Give the stranger sanctuary, keeping people fed, you're gonna have to live with love. You can ask Wilmur for advice." Carol teased, smirking.
Wilmur smiled, giving Carol a knowing look. Carol usually teased around about him and Carl's relationship.
"I need you for something." Carol said, paying her attention to Daryl again. "Wilmur, can you take care of this?"
Wilmur nodded, taking the washrag. He stepped in front of the cart, smiling.
"Patrick can help, too." Carol said before walking away with Daryl.
Wilmur rolled his eyes when Patrick stood beside him. Patrick got on his nerves. During the day, when him and Carl found a rare moment to share, Patrick always interrupted. He would stick his childish nose in their business. Because of him, Carl and Wilmur never found a moment alone anymore besides in the night.
Patrick smiled at him, holding his fist up for a fist bump. Wilmur looked away and shook his head, rejecting the fist bump. Patrick was even annoying to touch. Before Patrick came to the prison, he was in Woodbury. Patrick still got on his nerves then. He always stalked him with a bunch of questions. When he was Justin, Patrick was probably the third most annoying person in Woodbury. The first was the Governor and the second was Andrea. However, when he became Wilmur again, Patrick was the second most annoying one, and he still is.
"So, how's you and Carl going?"
Wilmur exchanged him a little glare. It wasn't his business to ask about Carl. He wouldn't even tell Patrick if him and Carl got in an argument. He won't tell a total stranger! What was Patrick thinking?
"Why do you care?" Wilmur asked with an annoyed voice.
The same, stupid smile stayed present on Patrick's face, annoying Wilmur. He could never wipe the smile of Patrick's chapped lips. It was impossible. Patrick was just too happy.
Patrick doesn't answer, he just asked another question. "When did your relationship with Carl begin?"
"It's none of your business! Why are you always asking about Carl? Do you like him or something? Because if you do, he's taken. He's mine!"
Of course, Wilmur wanted Carl to be happy, but he couldn't stand Carl with someone else. Carl was his and no one else's. It would be too impossible for him to let Carl go to someone else.
Patrick did like Carl. Why else would he ask so many questions about him? Why else would he interrupt him and Carl's time together?
"I don't...I don't-" Patrick cut himself off. He couldn't let Wilmur know he actually liked Carl. Some part of him wished Wilmur never came along so Carl would be single, but that was just cruel. Carl was happy with Wilmur. Not Patrick.
"Then leave him and me alone." Wilmur threatened, still glaring.
"But-but...Carl's my friend." Patrick cried, making Wilmur scoff.
"I would allow him to be your friend if you didn't interrupt us so much. You get on Carl's nerves, too, you know?"
And it was true. Carl would sometimes complain about Patrick when they were in their secret spot in the prison. Wilmur would complain about him, too, but he wouldn't talk bad about him. Even though Patrick gets on Carl's nerves, Carl still cared for him. Not much but more than Wilmur did.
"If I got on Carl's nerves, he would be staying away from me." Patrick defended and Wilmur scoffed again.
"He already is."
Patrick froze and Wilmur chuckled mischievously.
"Just go back to doing your own, weird thing. I can handle the cart." Wilmur said.
Patrick smiled bigger and shook his head. "Nah, I can help."
Wilmur sighed with annoyance. Once Patrick wanted to stay where he was, there was no you could move him. It didn't just annoy him and Carl, but it annoyed everyone in the prison. He would walk up on anyone making out and he would refuse to leave. Even Hershel talked to him about privacy, but he still wouldn't listen.
Wilmur thanked the lord when Daryl and Carol came back. Daryl gave him a look to go away, but like usual, it didn't work. Daryl rolled his eyes and motioned Wilmur to follow him. Wilmur sighed with relief and threw the washrag in Patrick's face, but Carol made him apologize, but then he did again and ran off.
Daryl turned around when he heard Wilmur's loud, fast footsteps. He was glaring at Daryl.
"What?" Daryl asked.
"Where were you? Do you know how torturing it is to be with him?" Wilmur responded
"I've only been gone three minutes."
"Every minute is torturing with him."
"So? You stay with Carl like that all the time."
Wilmur froze, a pinkish color forming on his cheeks. Daryl laughed and placed a hand on Wilmur's shoulder again. It wasn't like Daryl to laugh or joke around. But it was a happy, bright day. Not just a day. A whole month. They've went 30 days without an accident. At least that's what Beth's record said.
"C'mon. Let's go." Daryl said, still smiling.
The father and son walk to the car. Wilmur threw a couple bags in the trunk and helped with the gasoline. Meanwhile, Beth walked up with another gasoline bottle in her hand. She placed a gentle kiss on her boyfriend lips, Zach. He was a part of their run team. Beth and him been boyfriend and girlfriend since the third day Zach was brought in the prison.
Their relationship didn't bother Wilmur like it did with other boys in the prison. Their relationship reminded him of him and Carl's relationship. Every time he thought about him and Carl, his heart warmed up. Beth and Wilmur understood what love was.
"Hey." The newcomer, Bob, walked up. "I'd like to start pulling my weight around here."
"Bob, it's only been a week." Sasha said.
"That's a week worth the meals, roof over my head. Let me earn my keep."
Wilmur sighed and looked at Daryl. He could tell his adoptive father wasn't too comfortable about letting Bob in. No one really was. Zach didn't seem bothered about it, but that was just because he wasn't showing his concern. He knew they couldn't tell Bob no. It was his choice and his only.
"You were out on your own when Daryl found you." Sasha said.
"That's right." Bob replied.
"I just wanted to make sure you know how to play on a team."
Bob stared at Sasha, searching for any emotion. Wilmur always studied Carl's emotions. It was hard because his normal expression and sad expression looked similar. Sasha, however, was just uncomfortable like everyone else. When she was sad, she was frustrated. When she was angry, she was frustrated again. When she was happy, she looked normal. When she looked normal, she looked in a down mood. Her emotions were different than others, but Wilmur knew how to read them.
Everyone struggled to read Carl's emotions except him and Rick. Rick just doesn't push further. When Carl says he's okay but isn't, Rick would be okay even though Carl's not okay. Wilmur, however, would push further until he figured out what was bothering Carl. It was impossible with the night terrors, but anything else, Wilmur could figure it out.
"We ain't gonna do it unless it's easy." Daryl said.
"You know, he was in the medic army." Glenn mentioned. He was trying to get Sasha to agree. It was Bob's choice to go or not. Sasha just couldn't accept it yet. She didn't even like Bob that much. It wasn't just because she felt too uncomfortable about it.
"Okay." She finally agreed.
Wilmur sighed and mummered a finally. He grabbed Glenn's bag and threw it in the car before Daryl stood beside him, looking at him with worry and concern.
"You ready."
"You've asked that question three times now." Wilmur joked. "Yes, I'm ready."
"There you go, buddy." Carl said, throwing pieces of bread to Violet. The poor pig slowly pushed itself up and barely made it's way over to the bread. Gently, it nibbles on the bread. He wasn't suppose to be feeding it, but he couldn't help but feel bad for it. If he's honest with himself, he actually grew kind of close to it.
If Violet ever stopped getting sick so much and was healthy enough to eat, he would end up begging his father to keep it alive just like the little girl did to Wilbur in Charlotte's Web. He would be embarrassed if it ended up happening, but he knew his father would still love him no matter what he acted like. Weak or strong, he's the same person.
Violet looked up and bubbled a sick sound passed her mouth. She was smiling at Carl and he was smiling back. It was a weird friendship Carl would definitely keep a secret. He might tell Wilmur though. Wilmur wouldn't make him feel embarrassed about it.
Michonne's whistle snapped Carl's attention away from the pig.
Carl looked ahead to see Michonne riding back on her horse Daryl and Wilmur found. Michonne goes outside the prison to search for the Governor. Even though the war was over, the Governor's fate still remained unknown. He could very well still be alive. And Michonne's job was to find and end his life.
However, she hasn't found the Governor. Not even a clue or track of him.
Carl made a run for the gate and opened it for Michonne, pulling down the rope to open it. Ever since the Governor smashed a hole in it, they've had to find something else and they did. The prison was much more improved. Everyone loved it, but a lot didn't love it as much as Woodbury. At the prison, you barely get any privacy. Woodbury, you can get all the privacy you want.
Michonne and her horse ran in the gate with a full bag. While searching for the Governor, she found some really good stuff Carl always wanted and something Rick desperately needed.
"Somebody hit the jackpot." Michonne said, pulling a whole series of comic books out. Carl placed a bigger smile on his lips and took a hold of the comic books. It was a series Carl never got to finish reading before the apocalypse began.
"No way. Awesome! Thank you!"
Michonne smiled. She loved it when Carl was happy. He was like her son. "I get to read them when you're done."
"No, Wilmur reads them when I'm done." Carl teased.
"Wilmur doesn't even read comic books!" Michonne said, laughing.
"Yes, he does!" Carl argued, laughing as well.
Rick laughed as he watched his son laugh. It always warmed his heart to see his son happy. He needed to thank Wilmur for making Carl happy again. Carl's still laughing when he took the horse away. He gave it a pat on the back after tying it back to the wooden rail.
A motorcycle could be heard up ahead, making Carl turn around. Wilmur and his run team were about to leave. Wilmur never left without saying goodbye. He quickly ran over to Daryl's motorcycle. Wilmur was sitting with Daryl on the motorcycle. It was his favorite spot to sit at.
Wilmur smiled when he saw Carl standing beside him. However, Carl wasn't happy. He didn't like it when Wilmur left to go into danger. Carl wasn't allowed to. Why was Wilmur? He wanted to protect Wilmur like he protected Carl. All of Carl's thoughts were focused on his lover in front of him. He wasn't listening to Daryl, Michonne, and Rick's conversation.
"Be careful out there, okay?" Carl whispered, not wanting to interrupt everyone else.
Wilmur smiled and stroked Carl's rosy cheek. "I always am."
Rick, Michonne, and Daryl's conversation is ignored. The two lovers stare and look each other in the eyes. It felt like Carl was saying goodbye to Wilmur forever. It always felt like that. He never knew if Wilmur would come back or not.
The two boys snap out of each other's eyes when Daryl started his motorcycle. Before Daryl took off, Wilmur stood off the motorcycle and placed a gentle kiss on Carl's lips. Carl never blushed when Wilmur kissed him. He was so happy to be with him that he didn't have time to blush. The only time he blushed was when Wilmur said something heartwarming to him.
"I'll be back."
Those were Wilmur's last words before they took off.
Carl watched as they drove off into the long distance until eventually, he couldn't see them anymore. It made him sick how everyone was willing to sacrifice Wilmur's life for supplies but wouldn't do the same for Carl. He would like to spat that out to everyone, but Rick would just get him in trouble.
He was growing tired of Rick being all protective over him. Sometimes, it even made him feel like a weakling.
Carl sighed and walked back to the horse and pigs. He snuck Violet a little bit more bread before his father walked to him. He knew his father was going to tell him to do his childish chores, but then again, he was trying to be a child.
"Going to check the snares?" Carl asked. He wanted to go with him but...
"I am. You're not. Do your chores."
Carl sighed. He never got to do anything. He wanted to help, but he guessed he was too weak and small to help. Everyone, besides Wilmur, thought he was too weak to handle himself. Of course, Carl still loved them all but...he wished everyone would realize how strong he was.
"Read comics. Maybe some books, too. Hang out with Patrick."
Carl didn't mind being Patrick's friend, but he did get on his nerves. Every time him and Wilmur were able to find quality time together during the day, Patrick interrupted. Then Patrick would try to push Wilmur away and move in on Carl. He knew Patrick liked him. Often, Patrick would attempt himself to Carl, but Wilmur would always shove him away.
He tried to make Patrick understand he didn't want to be with him. He loved Wilmur and wanted to be with him. He only sees Patrick as a simple friend, but Patrick didn't seem to understand. He wanted Patrick to leave them both alone just as much as Wilmur. If he tried to explain to his father what Patrick was doing, he probably wouldn't believe him. He would say 'you need to hang out with someone else other than Wilmur.'
"Maybe go to story time."
Now you've gone too far.
"Dad, that's for kids."
"Y-yeah." Rick smiled.
Carl sighed and shrugged. His father just wanted him to do as much kid stuff as possible so he can be a kid again. Carl didn't mind acting like a kid, but he wasn't a kid. His father needed to accept it.
"Dad, can I just go out there with Wilmur."
"Carl-"
"Dad, I'm sick of letting him put himself at risk every single day. I want to protect him. He protects me all the time. I would never live with myself if I didn't protect him if he dies!"
Rick sighed and placed a hand on Carl's neck and gently rubbed it. He hated getting his son in trouble. He understood why Carl wanted to protect Wilmur, but he couldn't lose him.
"I would get sick of you going out there and Wilmur would, too. This is your job anyway." Rick reassured, trying to make Carl feel better.
"My job is to farm?"
"Yep."
With that, Rick walked off to do the snares, leaving Carl to take care of the animals and plants. Carl sighed and threw the whole piece of bread in the pig's pin. He had to save some of it from the other pig's so Violet could have some. Violet was barely alive. He needed all the food he could get.
After taking care of the pigs, he walked to the growing plants. They were growing carrots, cucumbers, lettuce, beans, wheat, and broccoli. The cucumbers were ready to be collected, but he wouldn't collect without his father's permission. The carrots were halfway done as well as the lettuce. The beans, wheat, and broccoli still needed time to grow.
He watered the plants and thickened the soil before walking back to the pig's pin. He watched the still Violet. She was still alive, but barely. She was half-dead.
"Hey, Carl." Patrick walked up to him and he rolled his blue eyes. All he wanted to do was to watch Violet and think about Wilmur, but Patrick always interrupted everything.
"What?" Carl accidently asked with an annoyed voice.
"What's wrong?" Patrick asked.
"Just go away." Carl said. Normally, he would suck it up, but he really didn't want to deal with Patrick right now.
Patrick didn't go away. Instead, he stepped closer to Carl, close enough to feel Patrick's warmth transfer to Carl. Uncomfortable, Carl pushed away, but Patrick wouldn't let him go. He touched Carl's slim side, feeling him. An unfamiliar feeling was sent through Carl's veins. He didn't know what it was, but he certainly didn't like it.
"Patrick."
"Yes?" Patrick said in his ear, still smiling.
"Let go of me." Carl said, trying to pull away, but Patrick wouldn't let go.
Patrick took a hold of Carl's hand and squeezed it gently. No one did that to Carl. Only Wilmur. Wilmur was the only one allowed to touch him like this. Anything else is just a force. Patrick gently pushed Carl up against the pig's pin wall. Carl was now facing him. Carl was glaring at him, still trying to pull away.
"Stop. Let go of me." Carl snapped when Patrick touched his neck.
Patrick didn't listen and leaned in, but luckily, Hershel interrupted.
"What's goin' on?"
All Hershel saw was Patrick forcefully pushing Carl against the wall. Carl was trying to pull away and he was angry. Patrick was too close to Carl's lips. Carl was trying to turn his head to block the lips. He was pinned against the wall.
Hershel hopped with his prostatic and actual leg. He grabbed Patrick and gently pulled him off Carl. Patrick looked disappointed while Carl looked relieved. Carl was never touched like that before, besides Wilmur. But no one ever forced him to do anything. Wilmur had tried to have love with him, but Carl said he wasn't ready and Wilmur listened.
He would never force Carl to do anything.
"Go back to the prison. I'll be with you soon." Hershel demanded and Patrick obeyed.
Carl watched as Patrick went on his way. If Carl's honest with himself, he was shaking. Touches from someone else made him feel uncomfortable. He can't help but think what would've happened if Hershel hadn't came.
Hershel looked at Carl, who was shaking. Patrick had frightened the boy a little. Hershel doesn't know what Rick would do if he figured out, but he knew Wilmur would kill Patrick if he found out.
"Are you okay?" Hershel asked, placing both of his hands on Carl's shoulders.
It took a minute for Carl to answer. He was still shaking. It actually wasn't surprising Patrick done something like this to him. He wanted to be with Carl for a long time.
If only Wilmur were here. He would've probably already killed Patrick. He would be holding Carl right now. A kiss would be placed on his lips, but Wilmur wasn't here. He never really was anymore. If only he went on the run with him...
"Why don't you go play around. I'll take care of the farming."
Carl smiled weakly and nodded before walking across the field. He wondered if he should tell Wilmur or not. It might be a mistake. It might not be a mistake. With Rick, it wouldn't matter. But with Wilmur, it will. It wouldn't just cause huge conflicts between Patrick and Wilmur, but it would also cause many arguments Rick and Wilmur.
Rick doesn't do anything about Patrick, Wilmur would be mad.
The shaking teen picked up a soccer ball and kicked it around. Without Wilmur and not doing his job, there was really nothing to do. All the kids here were younger than him, besides Patrick. Wilmur was older than him as well, but he didn't count.
With rage, Carl kicked the ball so hard that it flew far in the distance. Then he stormed off after it again. He kept doing the same thing over and over again until Patrick catched the ball.
"Hey, Carl."
With more rage, he yanked the soccer ball away from Patrick. He couldn't stand Patrick anymore. He could now understand why Wilmur was so protective over him when Patrick was near them.
"Get the hell away from me." Carl snapped walking away with Patrick following.
"Where you goin'?" Patrick asked.
"It's none of your business!" Carl snapped.
"It does. Come here."
"No! I don't wanna be near you ever again!"
"Come on, Carl!"
"No!"
The two boys ended up near four kids named. Three of them were girls. Two of the girls had blonde hair while the other one had brown. The other one was a boy with curly, brown hair. They were naming walkers piled up against the fences.
"Nick, look over here."
"This one's Wayne."
"Nick."
"Nick, over here."
"Hi, Nick!"
Carl sighed angrily. He's already dealed with enough. He needed to take his anger out on someone. He couldn't do it to Wilmur because he loved him. Rick would get him in trouble. Patrick wouldn't care. Hopefully, the kids would work.
"You're naming them?" Carl walked up on them.
The youngest blonde smiled and turned around. The youngest blonde was Mika. Wilmur collected barbies to give her while on runs. Lizzie, the oldest blonde, was Mika's older sister. He didn't know the other two children.
"Well, one of them has a name tag, so we thought all of them should." Mika responded.
"They had names when they were alive. They're dead now."
"No, they're not. They're just different." Lizzie said.
What was she thinking? Did she not understand they were dead? Has she not seen anyone die like that? Was it too much for her to accept? Does she know what those things do to other people?
"The hell are you talking about?! Okay, they don't talk. They don't think. They eat people. They kill people." Carl said angrily. If he wasn't angry at Patrick right now, he wouldn't have even bothered them.
"People kill people. They still have names." Lizzie pointed out.
"Have you seen what happens? Have you seen someone die like that?"
Lizzie glared at Carl. She couldn't stand the people who acted like they were all smart. She couldn't stand it with Justin. People were much better when they were walkers. They didn't act like Justin or Carl.
"Yeah, I have."
Carl glared at Lizzie. She was acting smart as well.
"They're not people and they're not pets. Don't name them." Carl growled.
Lizzie looked at the other hurt children. Carl's anger worked. He just needed to get it off his chest. Or else Wilmur would know something's up when he gets back.
"We're suppose to go read. Come on." Lizzie said, walking off with two children but Mika stayed behind.
Carl's eyes softened when it was just her. She was the innocent one. She was the smart one. She knew what walkers were. He could tell. All she was is an innocent, scared child in a scary world. One of the rare ones. He wasn't directly talking to her.
"You coming to story time tonight?" Mika asked Patrick, forcing Carl to hold back his giggles. A fifteen-year-old listening to little kid stories.
"Uh, yeah."
Mika smiled a bright one like the moon. No one really has a smile that bright anymore. Sometimes, Carl and Wilmur can smile brightly, but not as much as Mika. Wilmur always said Carl's smile is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, but Carl denies it.
Patrick looked back at him after Mika walked away. His cheeks were covered with pink. It wasn't just from being discovered he goes to story time, but also because he loved Carl.
Carl couldn't help but smile at Patrick. It was funny that he was going to story time. Wilmur would laugh at Carl if he figured he was going to story time. Same thing with Carl.
"I go sometimes. I'm immature."
Carl stopped smiling when he heard Patrick's voice. His voice made him sick. Patrick was nothing but a stubborn rapist who tried to force Carl to do things.
Wilmur would be angry if he figured it out. But it would continue while Wilmur and Rick wasn't there. Carl would have to be prepared for it to happen again.
"Army came in and put these fences up. Made it a place for the people to go to." Daryl said with Wilmur and Bob standing beside him. "Last week when we spotted this place, there was a bunch of walkers behind this chain-link keeping people out like a bunch of guard dogs."
Sounds like Woodbury.
Wilmur was still recovering from his father did to him. There was a lot of scars left from his father. Carl had helped get rid a whole ton of them, but many were still left. Every time he sees Carl, his world would be focused on nothing but him. Carl's arms would hold him when he cries. Carl's hands would soothe his entire tensed body. He would look into Carl's eyes for reassurance. And his lips would tell him that everything was okay. Carl's lips would remind him that he gained another person to love.
"Give a listen." Sasha said.
He suddenly heard music in the distance. He smiled and gave his head a shake before looking at Sasha. She was always good at sneaking around. She had good ways to survive.
The music suddenly gave him a memory. He remembered a month ago how he got Carl a MP3 player. They played it really loud and danced to it all night. It made all of the people in the prison mad.
"I don't know if it works or not." Wilmur said, staring down at the blue MP3 player. "But I got a battery for it."
Carl smiled and took the MP3 player from his hands, smiling before placing a kiss on Wilmur's lips.
"I love it. Whether it works or not, I love it."
Wilmur smiled and wrapped his arms around his lover's body, placing a kiss on his soft hair, dragging the kiss all the way down Carl's face and to his lips. The kiss was gentle at first, but then it grew into an intense and rough kiss. Their tongues were fighting like wrestlers do, refusing to give up.
Sadly, they had to pull away for breath. They're faces were just barely away. All they could see was each other's beautiful eyes.
"I love you so much." Wilmur whispered.
Carl smiled and placed his lips back on Wilmur's lips. However, before the kiss could grow stronger, Wilmur pulled away. He always did it to tease Carl around.
Carl whined and Wilmur laughed.
"Sorry, but we have music to dance to." Wilmur laughed, placing the new battery in the MP3 player.
Carl smiled and placed a kiss on Wilmur's cheek. Wilmur smiled and kissed Carl back on the cheek. Carl did the same thing again and then Wilmur did the same again.
Just as he was about to do it again, music busted out loudly. Wilmur laughed and walked over to a table with a Bluetooth on it.
"Oh, God." Carl said, widening his eyes a little.
Wilmur laughed. "This is gonna be loud."
And it was true. The second Wilmur plugged the MP3 player to the Bluetooth, it busted out louder than last time. It was so loud, it vibrated the floor and caused Carl to stumble backwards. He accidently tripped over his own self. He could feel himself falling to the ground, but arms wrap around him and pulled him right back up.
"My life flashed before my eyes." Carl joked and Wilmur laughed before placing his lips back on Carl.
"Shall we dance?" Wilmur asked.
Carl laughed and placed one more kiss on Wilmur's lips before nodding. Wilmur shifted him all the way back up and wrapped his arm around Carl's waist, pulling him closer. Their faces were just inches away.
"There's a place..." The song sung.
"I've been looking for That took me in and out of buildings behind windows, walls, and doors
And I thought I found it"
"This song is already reminding me of you." Wilmur said, placing a gentle kiss to Carl's lips before they continued dancing.
"Couple times even settled down
And I'd hang around
Just long enough to find my way back out
I know now
That the place that I was tryin' to reach was you right here in front of me"
The song was telling to truth. Wilmur had been lookin for a place. The right place to settle down. Of course, he found the prison, the right place he was looking for. But what he was really looking for was Carl Grimes. The boy right in front of him.
"And I wouldn't change a thing
I'd walk right back t hrough the rain
Back to every broken heart on the day that it was breaking
And I'd relive all the years
And be thankful for the tears
I've cried with every stumble step that led to you
And got me, here"
"Yep, this song definitely reminds me of you." Wilmur said, smiling.
Carl blushed, but it faded away once everyone in the cellblock started to scream. Everyone was angry. Did they not realize how hard they have to work during the day?
But they were the ones who didn't understand. Wilmur and Carl barely got to see each other. It was important to have private moments like the one they were having right now.
"It was amazing
What I let my heart go through"
That part surely showed what Wilmur and Justin's heart been through. It was shocking that the heart of Wilmur turned into he heart of Justin, but then Carl came into it and got rid of Justin's heart and threw Wilmur's back in.
"To get me where it got me in this moment here with you
And it passed me by
God knows how many times
I was so caught up in holding what I never thought I'd f ind"
Everything in the song was true about Wilmur and Carl. Wilmur was so caught up in Justin. Yet, he'd never think that he would find love again. He never expected to find Carl.
"I know now
There's a million roads I had to take
To get me in your arms this way"
The song was right again. It took a million roads for Wilmur to get to Carl.
"And I wouldn't change a thing
I'd walk right back through the rain
Back to every broken heart on the day that it was breaking"
A women suddenly busted in their cell and turned the Bluetooth off before grabbing the MP3 player and throwing it in Carl's face. Carl just laughed and Wilmur did, too.
"Hey, we were dancing to Rascal Flatts." Carl said, laughing.
"I don't care! We were sleeping!" The women yelled before walking out. Everyone else had gathered around their cell with grumpy and angry faces. As soon as the women walked out, everyone else followed her.
"Well, that sucked." Carl said, bowing his head to the ground. The laughter and music and dancing was over.
"Hey, we can still have a good time."
Carl laughed and pressed his lips against Wilmur's.
"Having you here is enough for me."
Wilmur laughed at the memory. Everyone's faces looked so funny! He can still remember how that lady smashed on their Bluetooth and how she threw the MP3 player at Carl. The women was so angry. How could she be so angry when him and Carl were so happy?
"What's so funny?" Daryl asked, noticing his son's laugh.
Daryl's adoptive son shook his head. "Nothing. Just remembering something."
Daryl chuckled and placed a hand on Wilmur's shoulder. It must've been something about Carl. He's he only one who always is able to make Wilmur laugh. He was happy to have a happy son. He was happy him and Carl were together. If him and Carl weren't together, then Wilmur wouldn't be Wilmur. He'd still be Justin.
Bob's whistle brought Daryl back to reality.
"Alright, let's make a sweep." Daryl said, stepping through the hole in the fence Sasha had cut. "Make sure it's safe. Grab what you can. We'll come back tomorrow with more people."
Wilmur held his gun up, clicking the safety off. When he stepped in one of the many military tents surrounding the place, he sees five dead bodies. Two of the soldiers had ammo. It was three guns and two knives. Wilmur placed the weapons in his bag before stepping out into the hot sunlight again. Another tent had another dead body with one bullet. After taking the bullet, he jumped out again like he did with the other one.
It's not that he's scared, they just reminded him of Milton. His dead friend who tried to save Andrea. He missed Andrea. He missed how she always tried to avoid violence. He missed how she tried to protect him from his dangerous father. He missed how she treated him like a son. If she lived, she'd see the success the prison made. She'd be proud.
Wilmur flinched when someone tapped on his shoulder, making him spun around and fly his gun up, but lowered it when he realized it was just Zach.
"Whoa. Whoa. It's just me." Zach smiled and Wilmur smiled, too. The two teenagers make their way over to the storage building. Wilmur took a seat on the left side of Daryl.
Daryl banged on the window. It was to attract walkers if there was any in there. It was to check for walkers. "Just give it a second."
"Okay, I think I got it." Zach said, taking a seat on the right side of Daryl.
"Got what?" Wilmur and Michonne asked at the same time.
"I've been trying to guess what Daryl did before the turn." Zach replied.
"He's been trying to guess for, like, six weeks." Daryl said.
Wilmur laughed. If Wilmur was in the game, he'd probably already guessed it.
"Yeah, I'm pacing myself." Zach joked. "One shot a day."
"Alright, shoot." Daryl said, causing Wilmur to chuckle. Zach couldn't do it.
"Well, the way you are at the prison, you being on the council, you're able to track, you're helping people, but you're still being kind of...surly."
Wilmur chuckled again and shook his head. Zach was such a funny guy. No wonder Beth liked him so much.
"Homicide cop." Zach joked again.
Michonne suddenly started to laugh, making everyone smile bigger.
"What's so funny?" Daryl asked.
"Nothing." Michonne replied, still laughing. "It makes perfect sense."
"Actually, you are right." Daryl said. "Undercover."
Zach and Wilmur give Daryl a disappointed look.
"Come on, really?" Zach asked, disappointed.
"Yep."
"Dude, come on, really?"
Daryl gave off a serious expression. Undercover really was it. Wilmur couldn't wait to tell Carl about it if he gets home.
They sit in awkward silence before clearing their throats and shifting slightly.
"Okay." Zach said. "I'll just keep guessing, I guess."
A walker suddenly slammed against the window. Wilmur doesn't even flinch. He knew it was going to happen when their conversation was over. Everyone pushed themselves off their sitting position and clicked the safety off their guns.
"We're gonna do this, detective?" Michonne teased Daryl.
"Let's do it."
Sasha and Tyreese open the door, holding their guns up. Tyreese pulled a body out of the way to clear the view. Wilmur looked in and smiled when he saw the perfect for Carl. It wasn't comics, but it's something he will like.
"Alright," Sasha began to say. "We go in, stay in the formation for the sweep. After that, you all know what you're suppose to look for, right Wilmur?"
Wilmur blushed. She knew he was going to sneak out a souvenir for Carl.
"Hey, I do it because-" Wilmur's interrupted.
"We all know." Sasha interrupted, giggling. Everyone else giggled with her. Glenn did the most. Glenn understood Wilmur's love for Carl. Glenn felt the same toward Maggie. They both try to sneak out things for their lovers. Sasha usually teased about Carl, but she loved the relationship between him and Carl. Love was one of the rare things left from the old world. It made Sasha happy every time they found one of those normal things.
"Any questions?" Sasha asked before they step in the building.
Each of the partners take their turns stepping in. Sasha and Tyreese went first. Next, it was Glenn, Bob, and Zach. Then it was Daryl and Wilmur. The first thing Wilmur headed to was the gift for Carl. It was a camera, and it actually worked. Wilmur and Carl can take pictures and post it on their walls. Their lives could now be written in pictures. If him and Carl's love story was recorded in history, he'd want a picture of them together.
A noise is followed by after stuffing the camera in his bag. Wilmur flinched and yanked his gun out of his holster and aiming it toward the noise. He sat there for two minutes before accepting nothing was there. He placed his gun back in his holster and walked over to the shelves canned food.
Wilmur grabbed the cans with food in them. That was corn and beans. He stopped when he ran across something he liked himself. Smiling, he grabbed the can and looked down at it, chuckling.
"It's been awhile." Wilmur chuckled.
"What is it?" Daryl asked.
"Nothing. Just my favorite canned food."
Daryl smiled and took it from him, looking down at the label.
"Peaches?"
Wilmur smiled and grabbed the can from him and threw it in his bag. "I love peaches. I haven't eaten them in forever." Wilmur said. Daryl smiled and gave his head a shake before walking to his own little shelf. Wilmur stopped along a shelf with a frame with a picture of a family in it. There was a mother, a father, an older brother, and a younger sister.
It reminded him of his family. He missed his dear mother and loving sister. Usually, Wilmur was too busy to think about them. He was either busy on a run or busy with Carl. He didn't take time to realize the objects that his family liked. His mother liked jewelry and his sister liked dolls. Everyone would find it weird that he would be keeping this stuff in his cell, but he didn't give a damn. He needed something to remind him he still had a family.
He walked to shelf with toys. He grabbed the barbies and stuffed them in his bag. They were for Mika. She loved to play with barbies. He ran across a shelf with a ton of dolls. Penny liked porcelain dolls. She liked the type of stuff from the past. He had to find the perfect doll though. Penny didn't just like any doll.
Finally, he found the perfect one and gently placed it in his bag. Then he made his way over to the shelves with jewelry. His mother liked diamonds and rubies. He grabbed a ruby necklace and a diamond bracelet.
"Wilmur?" Daryl said, walking up on him.
Before Daryl could say anything else, a loud crashing noise can be heard. Glass could be heard shattering all over the floor and wood was slamming on the floor. A scream of pain was heard. Wilmur and Daryl looked at each other with wide eyes.
"Shit." Wilmur said before him and Daryl run to the noise.
Everyone ran to the same shelf. It had beer bottles on it, but the shelf had fell down and the beer bottles did, too. Bob was stuck under the shelf with shattered glass stuck in his skin. Wilmur bended down to see Bob with his eyes wide open in fear.
"You okay? Did you get cut?" Wilmur asked.
"No, man, but my foot is caught!" Bob said, some moans slipping through his words.
"Alright, he's just caught. Come on, help me." Wilmur said, trying to lift up the heavy shelf. Daryl, Tyreese, and Zach help Wilmur push the heavy shelf back up.
"What happened?!" Glenn yelled from somewhere.
"Everyone's alright! We're over here in the wine and beer!" Zach yelled back.
Wilmur grunted while pushed the shelf up, stumbling a little bit under it's weight. Some glass left on the shelf landed on Wilmur's face. It didn't scrape or cut his skin, but some did land on Bob and cut him.
"You okay?" Wilmur asked Bob.
"I was moving fast, man." Bob responded. "I drove right into the drinks."
"Come on." Wilmur said, offering him a hand. Just as Bob was about to grab his hand, a walker fell from the ceiling, getting caught in the air from part of the roof, hanging. Wilmur jumped up with his gun yanked out of his holster.
"No, stop!" Daryl yelled just as another walker fell from the ceiling.
"Bob!" Wilmur yelled, bending to him, desperately trying to pull him from below the shelf. He wasn't going to lose him today. They just got him last week! Bob couldn't die on his first run! They couldn't lose now! They've gone 30 days without an accident!
"Come on, come on!" Wilmur grunted while pulling Bob's arm. Bob yelped in pain when Wilmur pulled too hard, causing his shoulder bone to pop and damaging his caught foot.
"Alright, Bob. I can't do this by myself. You're gonna have to push yourself."
More walkers from the ceiling and land on shelves, knocking them over. Some just splattered on the floor. Some got hung in the air. Eventually, enough walkers would fall down to expose the wrecked helicopter on the roof. And soon, the entire roof would collapse. Screaming and yelping could be heard. The sound of blood was splattering the floor. Walker snarls and moans could be heard everywhere.
"I-I can't!"
"You can!"
"I can't!"
"You can, just do it!"
A walker suddenly fell from the ceiling again and landed right on Wilmur's back, knocking him down.
"Keep pushing yourself!" Wilmur yelled, struggling against the walker. He desperately tried to reach for the gun he had dropped. However, it's hard due to the walker's hands smashing down on his wrists. He grunted and tried his best to shove the walker off him, but it didn't work.
The walker's teeth were too close to Wilmur's nose. All he could see was it's chomping mouth. The only thing he could hear was the walker's angry snarls. He pressed his fingers into the walker's throat, squirting out blood. The throat spewed out blood and his mouth poured blood. Blood was splattered all over Wilmur's face.
Finally, he managed to smash a piece of glass into the Walker's throat, causing his head to fall right off. The body fell off his body. The only thing left of the walker was the head. He scrambled for his knife and smashed it into the walker's soft skull before letting the knife clatter to the ground.
"Idiot."
Gunfire could be heard over his word. Everything always eventually goes bad for them. You couldn't go forever without an accident. Andrea was right. No one could make it alone now.
"Hey!" Bob said, trying to grab Wilmur's attention.
"Keep pushing!" Wilmur yelled, shooting down the walkers, not missing once.
"Hey!" Bob yelled, this time calling for help. Wilmur spunned around and sent a bullet through a walker that was trying to get to Bob. The walker collapsed to the ground, it's hand still clutching Bob's hand.
When he turned around, a walker was on top of him again. However, before he could even fight it, Zach shot it down. Zach's gun was almost out of bullets. He already killed a bunch of walkers hanging from the ceiling and they all landed on him.
"Get Bob!" Zach yelled. Wilmur nodded slightly, turning back to the shelf and lifting it back up with Zach while Daryl desperately tried to pull Bob out of the trap.
"You're okay." Wilmur reassured when he saw the shocked look on Bob's face. He wrapped an arm around him to keep him from collapsing. Wilmur handed another gun to Daryl, nodding to him. Him and Zach had to cover for them, but Zach wasn't able to.
A walker had already grabbed Zach's foot chewed it up.
"No!"
But it was too late.
Zach was already on the floor with the flesh being torn from his neck.
Zach's screams were the last thing Wilmur heard when they run out of the building just before the roof collapsed.
At least he died fast.
Carl just snuck around the prison, thinking about what Patrick did to him. Also thinking about what would happen when Wilmur found out. If he finds out. Wilmur very well might not come back. He can't stand the thought of Daryl coming back without Wilmur. He risks his life every time he goes out there. If Wilmur was allowed to protect, then why couldn't he?
Carl couldn't live without Wilmur. Wilmur was a huge portion of his life and if he died...that huge portion of his life would be yanked away from him. It would be the worst feeling he'll ever feel. A giant hole would be left with no one to fill it back up. No one could ever replace Wilmur. The hole in his heart would kill him.
The young teen sighed and walked to the library for story time. Even though Patrick was there, he still might as well try to be a kid. Besides, his father told him to go to story time. He'll probably ask Carol if he went there.
He stepped in to see Carol talking somewhat suspiciously. Her eyes had a look of worry and warnings. Carol was too strong to be worried about warnings. She had strengthened over time. She somehow was too strong in a way, but you have to be strong in a world filled with zombies and terrible people.
Once the man was out of the room, Carol shut the book she was reading. Carl quickly hid in the shadows behind the bookshelf. Peaking, he can see Carol pulling out a box filled with knives. Why did the box have knives instead of books?
"Ma'am, can I take watch now?" A young boy asked.
Carol gave a simple nod before turning her attention back to the children. "Today, we are talking about knives; how to use them, how to be safe with them, and how they could save your life."
Of course, Carl understood why she was teaching the children how to survive. After all, she wasn't teaching them how to be monsters. She was teaching them how to survive. He would probably do the same.
But...Patrick was in her class. What if he learned how to use a weapon and used it against Carl to force him to do things. Patrick would do anything to get Carl. Maybe it was best to tell Wilmur. The problem was Wilmur would kill him and then there'd be conflict between Wilmur and the prison.
Just as Carol was about to pass out the knives, Patrick interrupted like he always does.
"Ma'am, may I be dismissed?" He asked.
"What is it?" Carol asked.
"I'm not feeling very well."
"Sometimes you're gonna have to fight through it. What if you wind up out there alone? You give up just because you're feeling bad?" Carol said strictly.
She was right. He didn't mind her teaching children how to survive, but how would Hershel react to it? And if he told his father, he would certainly tell Hershel about it. If Rick didn't agree to it, then he should definitely not allow it to go on any longer. He didn't want to lie to his father.
"No, it's just...I don't wanna yack on somebody."
"Go." Carol said sternly and he quickly ran out. He was probably just eager to find Carl.
Once Patrick was gone, Carol continued her lesson.
"Okay, today we're gonna learn how to hold a knife, how to stab and slash and where to aim for-" She cuts herself off when Carl stepped out of the shadows.
Carol sighed. Now her secret was at risk. She had to teach the children how to survive or they would eventually die. She knew they couldn't stay in the prison forever.
"Please, don't tell your father." Carol begged.
Carl shook his head and walked out. He wasn't angry or frustrated. He was just upset he had to lie to his father. He hadn't done it much ever since they started to get along.
"I'm worried about what Beth's gonna say." Wilmur said, still trying to wipe the tears away from his cheeks. He didn't want Carl to see him cry. He just wanted to have a relaxing night with him.
Daryl turned the engine off and stepped off the motorcycle with Wilmur following. He followed Daryl to the cell. His adoptive father was upset. When he was upset, he ignored everyone and kept to himself. When they were in the cellblock, Daryl turned to Wilmur.
"Let me handle Beth. You can handle Carl."
Wilmur sighed sadly and nodded. He walked out of the cellblock and opened a gate that lead to a room with a phone. Turning to the right he squeezed through a small door and then through another one on the left. He walked down the dark hall until he stopped at the window with moon shining through.
There, sat the same boy, Carl.
Wilmur put on his best fake smile, but it was hard because someone just died, and now Carl was going to figure out someone important died. Carl looked up and smiled at the sight of Wilmur. The day was hard and exhausting. He was glad to finally relax with his lover.
The older teen sat next to Carl, wrapping an arm around him. Carl gently rested his head against Wilmur's shoulder as his lover stroke his long, soft hair. Carl closed his eyes at the feeling.
"I have so much I need to tell you." Carl said.
"Me, too. I'll go first."
It was important to get it out of the way. He just wanted Carl to feel better as fast as he can. The night was suppose to be relaxing, but the walkers have to ruin everything.
Wilmur gently rubbed Carl's back, his breath shaking from nervousness.
"Zach...he-he..." Wilmur trailed off.
It took ten seconds for Carl to see what he was talking about. Tears slowly drip down Carl's rosy cheeks, soaking into Wilmur's neck. Wilmur sighed and rubbed Carl's back softer. He hated it when his lover was sad. All he wished is for Carl to be happy.
Carl sobs grew louder in Wilmur's neck. Tears were slipping through Wilmur's shirt, but he didn't care. All he wanted was for Carl to feel better.
Wilmur's hand slipped under Carl's shirt and traveled up his back, but stopped when he felt something big. It was like a bump, but it was much softer. Every time he touched it, Carl winced.
"Stop."
Slowly, Wilmur pushed Carl's shirt up to see the bruise on his back. He let go of the shirt and it fell. Then he rolled up Carl's sleeves to see a few bruises on his arms.
A pathetic idiot in the prison was hurting his lover! No one was allowed to hurt his lover!
Wilmur looked at Carl softly, gently rubbing the bruises.
"Carl, who did this?" Wilmur asked softly. He didn't want to show his anger. He was really mad someone hurt his boyfriend.
His lover pulled away and pulled his sleeves back down. He knew Wilmur would figure it out, he just didn't expect him to be so calm about it. He expected anger and rage.
Wilmur, however, was really angry. He wasn't here to protect Carl from the monster. Someone had hurt his boyfriend while he wasn't there. He wondered how long it was going on.
"I-I can't tell." Carl said, causing Wilmur to lean in and capture Carl's lips. It was to make Carl feel better and to reassure Wilmur. Again, the kiss was gentle but grew passionate and tender. He needed to let Carl know he can trust him.
The taste of Wilmur's lips land on Carl's taste buds, activating them and sending the same warmth down through his steamy veins. The kiss got Carl confidante. No matter what, Wilmur will still love and protect him.
Finally, Wilmur pulled away, resting his forehead against Carl's, looking into his eyes.
"Who?" He asked again.
Carl placed his hand over Wilmur's, letting the warmth of his hand warm his.
"P-Patrick."
Wilmur yanked away, staring at Carl with wide eyes. He didn't expect Patrick to do something to him. Why would Patrick do that to someone he desperately wanted to be with.
Suddenly, Wilmur froze.
There was a reason for it.
Slowly, Wilmur grabbed Carl's smaller hands and pulled them to his face, kissing them gently.
"Carl, he didn't force you to do anything, did he?"
That was when Carl froze, making Wilmur angry toward Patrick.
"What?! What did he do?!" Wilmur yelled. No one was allowed to touch Carl except him!
Carl flinched and shook his head. "N-nothing."
Wilmur yanked Carl's hands back to his face, holding them close. "No! What did he do?!"
His voice just kept growing louder and louder, but he didn't care. He was going to get it out of Carl one way or another. Meanwhile, Carl was sitting there thinking it'd be a mistake telling him.
"Carl!"
"H-he pushed be against the wall and touched me! I couldn't fight him off!"
"Tell him no! Tell him you don't to!" Wilmur yelled, he couldn't believe Patrick touched his lover.
"I-I did! He wouldn't listen!"
Wilmur froze, slowly calming down. Carl couldn't fight off a desperate, fifteen-year-old boy. Carl was under something sexual.
"Carl, that's sexual assault."
Carl bowed down his head shamefully, but Wilmur pushed his chin back up, smashing his lips onto his. The kiss was gentle and no more. Slowly, he trailed off Carl's mouth and kissed along Carl's cheek, leading to his neck. Wilmur gently kissed his neck, rubbing Carl's back.
"Hey, tomorrow I'll talk some sense into him. But anytime you want, you say the word and I'll kill him. I won't though. Not unless you want me to."
Carl nodded and gently kissed Wilmur's lips.
"Why don't we leave. I can tell your exhausted."
Carl shook his head. "N-no. I wanna stay here. Can we-can we please sleep together?"
The older lover sighed quietly and brushed Carl's brown hair away from his face before kissing his forehead. Wilmur laid down and opened his arms, motioning Carl to fall in them. Carl smiled against Wilmur's chest, closing his eyes and falling into a dreamless sleep.
Tomorrow, Wilmur would talk to Patrick. He would possibly have to beat him up and probably get yelled at for it. Then he'd have to talk to Rick about it. Wilmur will stay clear of the next run and stay to shield Carl away from Patrick.
Little did he know, Patrick would be dead in the morning.