I spend the rest of the night watching Carl as he sleeps. As boring this might sound, it´s actually really fascinating and somehow... soothing to me.

As I - being dead and so on - am not able to sleep, I can´t help being a little jealous of him. How peaceful the look on his face is.
Even though I wish, I could see his wonderful blue eyes again - if they wouldn´t be full of hate and anger towards me all the time - right now, I´m absolutely satisfied, that I just can look at him. Through my own, rotten eyes, not through stolen memories of Ron.

How can a human be so perfect? I can´t help wonder this, as I involuntarily lean towards him, my eyes wide open with fascination and ...

affection?

I know, I shouldn´t be able to feel these things. Sympathy, the urge to keep Carl safe, loss for Ron´s brother Sam... I´m dead. And as far as I know, I´ve been dead long enough to know the rules.
But it seems like everything I thought I knew is wrong.

Slowly the night fades and the sun shines through the small windows of my plane; its light makes Carl´s hair less dark.
I have to gulp, when I see how he turns his face in his sleep towards the window. I know, he wants nothing more than to return to his home; to his family.

Well, maybe he also wants to see Ron alive again... My stomach suddenly feels like its in my mouth. Slowly I look away from Carl, as if I´m afraid he´ll vanish when I look away. I hastily check the inserts of my hoodie pocket, even though Carl is still asleep. His boyfriend´s brains are still there, greasy and cold at the touch of my fingers. But surprisingly, I´m not hungry at all. Maybe it´s because I ate yesterday, but...

When I look at Carl, I feel a thousand of confusing things. But hunger is none of those feelings.

Suddenly I hear a small sigh and my head jerks back to Carl. He presses his eyelids together, as if he doesn´t want to wake up. As if he doesn´t want to escape the sweet silence of sleep, as if his dreams are more bearable than the reality.

Which they probably are, I think sadly.

But Carl loses the fight with his consciousness, and he eventually wakes up.

At first, it looks like he forgot where he is - but then, his gaze falls on me and I suddenly realize that I´m staring at him like a complete idiot.

I fall back in my seat and a little groan escapes my lips. I don´t wanna know what he thinks of me now. I still watch him trough the corner of my eyes, I can´t resist.

But he just sighs in exasperation and pushes the blanket I gave him away. He runs his hand through his hair, and I have to look at him properly again. The way his hair now sticks up in all directions...

"What are you looking at, asshole?"

I drop my gaze, unable to reply to this rude question. Not that I don´t deserve this harsh treatment, I did kill his boyfriend.
I feel his eyes on my face, his gaze burns me, it´s like he´s able to read my mind and as if he knows all my dark secrets.

Finally he looks away and my head turns back to him, it moves without my permission. He stares through the window down at the - for now - empty tarmac, and suddenly it´s like I know what he´s thinking. He wants to get away from me as soon as possible.

I don´t know why, but I feel another sting in my chest. Am I that bad of a company? Well, actually I am. But still.
I fill my dead lungs with enough air to speak and say:
"N-not... s-safe."

Carl turns his head and snorts again. "Not safe? Sure. And in this fucked-up plane with a Walker inside it´s totally safe, right?"

I try not to flinch and slowly stand up, raising my hands in a - hopefully - peaceful gesture. "M´not... l-like..." My throat struggles to get the words out and I give up, staring at him unblinking. Even if I could speak, I´m not sure what I´d say. That I´m not like the other Walkers? I may be different, but I´m still killing people, so...

His gaze flies back and forth, from the door to the window and then to me again. I don´t know why, but suddenly an almost... sneaky expression flares up in his eyes. But as fast as I see this, it disappears again.

"But I´m like... starving. You gotta go and get me some food.", he says, slowly, as if I was mentally retarded. Okay, I may be a Biter, but I´m definitely not dumb. I think.
And I know it´s a trap, what else could it be. And yet...

When Carl looks at me like this with big eyes, his lips slightly opened and his hair falling constantly in his eyes - Like my own shaggy hair falls in my eyes all the time - and then he opens his mouth again and says silently: "...please?" - I´m defenseless.

All I can do is nod, turn around and walk towards the airport door. In my head something screams: Are you crazy? He´ll try to run away from you, like every human does. You´ll lose him before you can...

I pause, frowning about my own thoughts. Before I can what?
But I get no answer from my inner voice, so I continue walking.

Before I´m completely out of the door, I turn around once again. Carl is still staring at me with this sharp eyes, but now there´s something else. Hesitance? Remorse?

Maybe he won´t try to sneak away from me. But nevertheless, I raise a shaky hand to express with a gesture what I can´t say with words - Stay here. He doesn´t say anything, but he bits his lower lip, avoiding my gaze. What is he thinking?

With a silent sigh I finally exit the airplane and stumble down the stairs. I feel Carl's gaze on my back, he´s watching me through the windows, but I don´t turn around. I have to get food, human food quickly. Indeterminate I walk towards the airport building, trying to search my hazy memories for something useful - Haven´t I seen some cans of food at the airport bar, where M likes to hang around usually? For a brief moment, I´m wondering where he is. Is he asking himself, why I didn´t come to our usual meetings after hunting trips? No, I don´t think so. It´s not like he would forget me instantly, like the other Biters do. But he gives me personal space, like I do vice versa.

If he knew I´m busy treating a young human male, I somehow didn´t eat and rescued, he would... I honestly don´t know what he´d do. I´m not sure I wanna know.

My thoughts wander without my control back to Carl.

He talked to me. Like... Like I wasn´t dead. Like I was a real person. He said "Please". Why bothering being polite to a - like Carl would say it - fucking Walker? I´m totally confused, as usually. I don´t understand him, even though I want to. I want to get to know him better, not trough Ron´s second-hand memories though. After only one day it feels like he´s the most important thing in... my so-called life.

I want to-

I stop.

This smell... It´s Carl. Outside the plane. Not good. I turn around as fast as possible and awkwardly run back to the tarmac.

Luckily I can track him by his scent, that strange cinnamon but also fresh smell of life - I never met a human who smelled so lovely to me. He´s still alive - otherwise I would smell his blood, not his scent. But for how long? I force my legs to move faster, almost tripping as a result.

I feel extremely relieved but also somehow hurt when I see his blue-brown features - He really tried to run away from me. Am I that unbearable? Probably yeah, but... I saved him, something happened to me, he can´t just leave me...

He´s crouching under a plane next to my own plane, and he looks into the opposite direction. As I come closer quickly I see why - Half a dozen Walkers in the distance, sniffing and groaning softly.

If Carl tries to run away, he´ll be most likely dead in a few seconds. I almost panic when I realize this. But then I finally reach the plane, drop down next to Carl and touch his shoulder without thinking. I startle as he flinches back and jerkily turns around. His eyes are wide open - he´s terrified. But for some reason... His fear seems to be directed more to the nearing Biters than to myself. Or am I imagining things now?

"D-don´t... r-run...", I whisper and my voice cracks, but that´s not so important right now. He doesn´t reply, but he nods shortly.

I know he won´t like this, but I have no choice. For the hopefully last time I smear my now almost dried blood on his face and neck. But he´s brave this time - Carl doesn´t even flinch, but he bites his lips. I check the Biters behind us again - they move less fast, but they´re still approaching the plane, under which we hide.

As I lean in closer, I suddenly notice how close he is - I can see the little freckles on his cheeks and nose.

I pull myself together and sniff cautiously - his smell is sadly yet fortunately gone. Then I hesitantly grab his arm and pull him up, after adding softly: "C-come." I trust him that he won´t try to bail, he´s not stupid. He was just desperate and thought the tarmac was clear...

Now I just have to convince him to trust me. For what reason, I´m not sure, but I feel the urge to protect and look after him stronger than ever. We´ll return to my plane, I can get him some food and then...

But as I guide him up and out from under the plane, and I let his arm go, so that he won´t feel uncomfortable, I freeze - and Carl escapes a little grasp. A whole horde of Walkers are in front of us, staring in space with their strange, grey irises. They can´t smell him, but if he makes any sudden moves...

I swallow, bend down to Carl and say: "B-be dead..." As he´s staring at me like I´m absolutely insane, I stretch my arms straight ahead and moan a little exaggerated. "O-Okay?", I ask, gazing at him almost pleading. He nods again, copies my posture and follows me through the Walkers. Carl isn´t too bad in acting like a Biter, I notice. Did he pretend being dead before? I don´t know what terrible things he already experienced in his short life. I shrug the thought off and instead think of something completely different...

The way he groans - completely innocent, he´s only thinking about surviving right now - remembers me of Ron´s vivid memories. This would have made me blush instantly if I were a human. God, I´m such a freak, apart from being dead.

Occasionally Walkers are bumping into us, but apart from that we cross the Dead without incident. After bringing enough distance between us and the horde, I can´t help but mutter, still a little mad about the fact, he tried to fool me (which he achieved.): "T-told you... n-not... s-s-safe." I´m really not used to speak so much, and now I´m embarrassing myself with stuttering around.
Carl snorts. "Alright..." He shots me a look, then he suddenly lowers his still raised arms and blushes a little, as if he´d forgotten them. I lower them too, and gave him an awkward, lopsided smile. I can´t remember the last time I smiled. Probably it was when I was a human... Again I wish I could remember something from my former life.

He doesn´t smile back, he just looks away to the ground, but I could swear I´ve seen a very small smile forming on his lips.

He sighs silently, looks at me again and crosses his arms while continuing walking. "Okay, but I´m really hungry though..."

We eventually found some food at the airport bar, as I assumed. Luckily M wasn´t there, and the other Corpses passed us without looking at Carl twice.
I´m happy about that, of course I am, but I can´t help wonder - why can´t they see how special he is? How alive, how pretty... and so very not dead?

I found some scissors, a spoon and a - at least apparently - clean bowl in my plane. I can´t even remember picking those things up, but they are quite handy for Carl. I have trouble following his fast movements as he opens a can of baked beans and pours the food out. He sits down on a seat in the middle of the plane and begins eating immediately. "Oh my god, this is amazing.", he says more to himself. I stare at him in fascination.

Suddenly he stops chewing and looks up to me, and I realize I´m standing in front of him and watching him eat, like it´s the most impressing thing that ever happened to me.

Oh no! Stop staring, you´re acting weird again!

I turn around jerkily, then I suddenly have one of my few flashes of inspiration. The refrigerator.

And really, there are still some closed bottles in the small fridge next to the exit, in the rear-end of the plane. Almost determined I take one - without trying to decipher the label; I can´t read anyways. I go back to Carl and offer him the bottle silently.

He looks actually surprises, and I can see the beginning of a grin on his face. "You have beer? Well... Thank you." Carl takes the beer, and I notice how he avoids to touch my hands. I can´t blame him, plus I´m still on cloud nine because he thanked me for giving him a drink. I hesitantly sit down on the ground opposite him and I can´t stop staring at him - how he opens the bottle with the handle of the scissors, how his larynx moves as he drinks...

He sets the bottle down on the little table attached to the seat and wipes over his mouth with the back of his hand. "I can´t remember the last time I had a beer." Now he really has to grin shortly and I feel a warm feeling in my chest as he looks at me like this.
"Guess you can´t be all that bead, you weird Walker."

I lean forward and stutter slowly: "M-my... n-name..."

Carl puts the spoon down and gives me a surprised look. "You have a name?"

I nod, but I already wish I didn´t say anything. When he asks: "So what are you called?", I close my eyes and concentrate.

"Rrrrrrrr...", I mumble and take a deep breath. "Rrrr..." It´s hopeless. I open my eyes again and look at him embarrassed. But to my amazement, he doesn´t look annoyed. He looks... curiously. "Does your name start with R?"

I nod, avoiding his gaze.

But Carl surprises me for the second time. "Umm... Robert?" I tilt my head, think for a second, but then shake my head.
"Richard? Uh, Rick?" I shake my head, shot him a glance. I know from Ron´s memories, that Carl´s father is called Rick.

He sighs in frustration. "Come on, how many names with R are there? Ronald, Ryan? Ricardo?"
I have to disappoint him again as I shake my head for the third time.

I fall back in my seat, a little sad. I really wish I had a real name, not just a dump letter...

I must have looked really depressed because Carl´s voice is softer as he speaks again. "Hey... What if I just... call you R? Better than nothing, right?"

Now I have to look up and meet his gaze, I feel my face light up as another smile creeps on my pale lips. "R...", I sigh.

Either Carl is not noticing that he smiles too, or he doesn´t mind it.