1. Life Goes On

It first started with the itching.

He had been on autopilot. Ever since the incident. Ever since the walkers broke in. Ever since Maggie, his mom and he had barricaded themselves in the boiler room. Ever since he'd had to point a gun at the person he loved most in the world.

No. Stop it.

The itching had started moments later, or was it hours? Days? Everything after had just passed in a haze of shouting and running. Idly he wondered if he had caught a rash from the bedbugs and dust mites, his hand coming up to scratch at his neck again.

But worse were the smells. Everything suddenly reeked now. The putrid, rotten smell of the undead, the acrid smoke of their burning carcasses from the pyre outside, the blood coating the walls, floors, ceilings. He wondered why they even bothered cleaning anymore. The stains had long since become a permanent part of the décor.

"Hey, Carl."

He shot out of his stupor, head snapping up abruptly to see Glenn. The beta was standing at the door to his cell, clutching a bundled assortment of sharpened pipes, canes and bars.

"Yeah?" Carl replied.

"We've finished clearing out the compound and the blocks, but your dad and Daryl are handling the fire so we're a little short-handed now. Some stragglers at the east fence need to be dealt with," Glenn explained. He must have seen something on his face because he hastily added, "Unless you feel like you need more rest. If you need another day, I understand. It's fine."

"No, no, sure. It's fine. I'll meet you there," Carl said. Some fresh air would be good. He needed to do something, anything, to keep his mind occupied. Away from the suffocating scents in the cell block. Away from the stifling silence.

Away from what happened in the boiler room.

Glenn brightened. "Great! Um, I'll just go first then. Take a few minutes to freshen up a bit, okay?"

Carl nodded and the beta left. He dug around his bag to retrieve a rag and a water bottle to wipe his no doubt grimy face. The bottle was almost empty and he was thirsty, so he just gulped it down.

On the way out he passed Beth on the catwalk steps. She had fashioned a makeshift crib out of boxes and bedsheets, and was cooing quietly at it. She looked up when she heard him approaching.

"Hey," she greeted.

The young omega had taken over his baby sister's care the moment she'd laid eyes on her. After the months of insanity and the running, hiding and scavenging, she looked relieved to finally be able to do something she was comfortable with. Carl nodded in return, hand going up to scratch at his neck again. He kept feeling hot and flushed, like a fever but just…not. He contemplated returning to his cell again but the thought of going back to that cramped space suddenly felt so wrong.

"Carl? Are you okay? If you're not feeling well you should get some more rest. Don't worry about the fences I'll take over for you," said Beth, who was making her way down to him.

Beth grabbed at his shoulders. Worry evident on her face. She pressed her palm against his forehead and cheek. "Oh my god, you're burning up."

"I-I'm fine," he slurred. He could smell her sickly sweet omega scent. Had it always been this off-putting? "Just gimme a sec-"

"Carl? How long has it been itching?" Beth's voice was tinged with concern. She grabbed at his hand and pulled it away, tilting his head up in the process. A sharp intake of breath.

Carl was confused. Was the rash worse than he thought? "What's wrong?"

Beth was staring at him like he'd grown a second head. She immediately ushered him back to his cell. "Stay here and lie down. Don't go anywhere. I need to get your father," she said as she hurriedly piled extra blankets on his bed. "Daddy! DAD! MISTER GRIMES! RICK!"

"No, Beth, tell me what's wrong. What's happening?" Carl was starting to panic, his abdomen had begun to throb.

"Carl, please you need to calm down. This is all normal, completely normal. You know that itching? That's your omega gland," she said as she came running back with bottles of water in her arms.

What? "But I don't have an-" Carl muttered, confused.

"Yes you do. You're presenting. You're going into heat now and you need to stay in bed." She tilted up her neck to show him the faint mark just below her jaw.

Beth held two white pills and a fresh bottle of water to his lips. "Take this, it'll help with the pain. Rick! Dad! You need to get in here now!"

Carl felt his eyelids grow heavier as he heard the door burst open and pounding footsteps.

But all he could see as he dozed off was his mother's tear stained face gazing up at him.