Quick note from the author - this is my first attempt at writing fanfiction. I've done roleplay before, but nothing more than that, so I'm open to suggestions as to what you would like to read in this, and ways I can improve it. I'm a HUGE Catrick shipper (ultimate OTP XD), and though I've never tried writing a fanfic before, I hope you enjoy it all the same.

Patrick sat against the watchtower's wall, his back warm against the metal. Although there were several people out farming, it was fairly quiet today. Not that he was complaining, of course; when his group, the remains of Woodbury, had first come to the prison, everything had been so busy all the time. People finding jobs, cell blocks being cleared.. but now, just a couple of months later, everybody seemed to have settled in, finally feeling safe. That was a good feeling.

He was one of the eldest kids here, of course, at sixteen. There were a few from his old group, but none older than the age of about eleven. The only other teenager already at the prison had been Carl, Rick's son, who was fourteen, fifteen, perhaps? Though a good deal shorter than Patrick, and clearly a lot more confident. Carl was cool, though, and Patrick was becoming pretty good friends with him, enough so that he was no longer quite so awkward around him as he was with other , he was kind of cute, but Patrick turned a little red at just the thought of that, sitting up properly again. The light began to reflect off of his glasses, which he pushed up his nose again as he glanced over at the fences. There were walkers there, but that didn't make a change. In fact, there were half as many as usual, meaning that fewer people were left to the job of stabbing them at the gates. With a slight sigh, he stood up, not moving from the spot for another minute or so.

...

"Go.. play soccer or something, I don't know!"

"Dad."

Rick sighed, getting a little agitated with his son now, but Carl still wanted to stay alone. He was always being told to go play with the Woodbury kids now, perhaps one of the few downsides of letting them join the prison group. Honestly, he didn't mind being with them at times, but the majority were younger than him, and the boy was beginning to miss the adult conversation that he used to have before they were here, often being treated older than he was.

"Just let me read my comics, do some writing, whatever, just leave me alone." He tried again, looking up at his dad, who was clearly irritated now.

"Ten minutes. Talk to some other kids for ten minutes, and then I'll leave you alone."

"Dad-"

"Don't even start with the 'They're all younger than me' crap. Go talk to Patrick or somebody. Might do you some good to talk to somebody your own age."

The man looked down at Carl and then at the floor, shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. When he lowered his hand again, he turned back to his son. "You're stubborn. I'll give you that." And then, he left.

Frowning again, Carl groaned and leant back against the wall, fully aware that his dad would be back in a few minutes to check if he was still there. He rested his head against the wall for a few seconds before actually getting up. Patrick wasn't that bad. A little dorky perhaps, and kind of awkward, but at times that could be pretty entertaining. As he stood up, the boy picked up the sheriff's hat from the table, looking at it for a short second before placing it on his head and walking out from his small cell.

Outside was the first place he went; the majority of the prison's people were out there most days, either farming or killing walkers at the fence, while kids were left to entertain themselves. The light was actually pretty blinding after spending the rest of the morning inside, but Carl just stood by the doorway for a second, letting his eyes adjust before quickly spotting Patrick over by the watch tower.

...

"Hey, nerd."

Patrick glanced over at Carl and grinned slightly at the nickname.

"Geek, actually. Good to see you,too." He watched as the smaller boy smirked slightly, sitting down in the spot where he had done so a few minutes beforehand.

"Enjoying watching the walkers?"

"Enjoying being a sarcastic asshole?"

It was Carl's turn to grin now as he shrugged, Patrick taking a couple of steps before sitting beside him, looking at him for a second before the smaller boy turned back around to face him.

"What?"

The younger boy was looking at him in slight confusion, leaving Patrick to realize that he had been staring. Mentally cursing himself, he looked back to the floor, flushing slightly red as he shook his head. "Nothing.. Nothing." There was an awkward silence between the two which lasted a few minutes, before Carl finally sighed and stood up, looking around and then back down at Patrick, who was still sitting. "Soccer?" He nodded, also getting to his feet "Soccer."