It took ten minutes arguing with the man on watch at the gate that she didn't need anyone to go with her, as well as mentioning Rick twice, before the man finally opened the gate. What did these people expect? She didn't need a damn escort, she had a walkie talkie incase things went south, and besides that- they'd seen her outside the walls before. They didn't need proof she could handle herself.
Sometimes, she wondered if the walls around Alexandria were ment to keep the dead out, or the people in.
Still- her hunt was nice. Refreshing, even. Being outside the walls seemed to wash her soul- outside the wall, she was just another person, another animal of the woods trying to scrape by. Nobody got upset if she was dirty or smelled like shit, and she could go to the bathroom wherever she wanted. The woods was awesome.
It gave her that feeling- the one she had while she was with Carl, sneaking out or smoking on rooftops. No matter how many baths she took, she knew they inside, she'd always be a hunter- always desiring something more than small talk and safety. She couldn't help it- it was in her bones.
She couldn't help but smile and flip off the man on watch who'd given her a hard time as she strode in with two dead woodchucks less than three hours later. He scowled at her and yelled something, but she just laughed and sprinted back towards the house, feeling light on her feet.
People looked up from where they were tending flowers and walking dogs, eying her warily. She didn't really give a damn, though, and she bounded up the front porch, out of breath and victorious, as she leaned on the kitchen door frame.
"Got somethin'"
Carol looked up from where she'd been at work on something- probably for dinner- to see Jamie, grimy as ever, holding two dead woodchucks by the tails. Her eyes were alight like a dog's- she knew she'd done good. Blood dripped steadily off the carcasses onto the kitchen floor.
Carol took them from her, brushing her grimy bangs from her face and mumbling something about the blood on her clothes. They both knew she didn't mean it- the way she set the carcasses in the sink, being careful not to damage the meat, the way her eyes lingered on them for a breif second- let her know she'd done well.
"Scrub yourself off. You and that father of yours, I swear..." Carol fussed, leaning forwards with a wet dishrag to scrub at some dirt on her face.
"See any walkers?" Carol's voice too on a far more serious tone as she leaned close to her.
"Two. One was dragging itself around- I stomped on it's head." she grinned slightly as she recounted it. "The other one couldn't get up. I left it for the birds."
Carol nodded approvingly, smoothing back her hair. "Your Dad's helping Rick with something. Now go scrub." she ordered, turning back to whatever she was making.
"I'll just get dirty again."
"You're not walking around my house smelling like that, no matter how cute you are. Upstairs- wash." Carol pointed a flour-covered hand at her, eyes dancing, and she did as she was told, muttering all the while. But really, she didn't mind.
Soap was weird- it smelled unnatural, compared the the usual smells- gunpowder, sweat and blood, with a bit of metal thrown in. It always threw her off for a few days, since she'd wash her hair and the smell would follow her around, and she'd be standing in the middle of the street, confused for a moment as she registered the smell and wondered what the fuck smelled like lilacs.
But she scrubbed herself anyways, pulling on a fresh pair of clothes and running a comb through her hair before she was tip-toeing down the hall, ducking into Carl's room.
Said boy was laying on his bed, hand resting on his chest and eyes closed, as though he were trying to sleep. She'd connected the dots when Rick had told her he was sick- he'd probably had a cigarette too many last night.
As soon as she set foot in the room, one of his eyes opened to peer at her before he was giving her a wane smile.
"You smell weird. Carol make you wash?"
She nodded, and he scooted over, making room for her to lay down beside him on the bed. She did, after she pulled a handful of sweet-smelling leaves from her pocket and depositing them on his chest.
"Mint." she explained. "Found it while I was hunting. Your dad told me you were sick- figured it'd help settle your stomach."
Carl nodded appreciatively, begining to chew on a few, before they laid in silence for a few moments.
"I'm kinda pissed at you." Carl admitted.
Jamie shrugged. "Ain't my fault you smoked too many."
Carl couldn't help but crack a smile. "I knew you'd say that. But then I realized- it's not so bad. Another excuse to miss school, for one thing-" he rolled over to face her quietly, scattering mint leaves everywhere in the process, throwing an arm over her and nuzzling into her shoulder. "And an excuse to see you." he mumbled into her shoulder.
She couldn't help but smile slightly. "Did your Dad give you too much medicine or something?" she joked, nudging his shoulder playfully.
Carl looked up at her suddenly, eyes serious. "I heard your Dad talking to my Dad in the hallway. There's talk about you heading out to scout again tomorrow."
She was quiet, staring at the floorboards.
"Tell me the truth." Carl propped himself up on his elbow, blue eyes studying her carefully. "You hate it here, don't you?"
She was quiet for a moment, thinking for a reply. "I- it's nice. The walls are nice. The people are assholes, though- I don't feel alive here. The only time I'm alive is when I'm with you, or when I'm outside."
Carl nodded. "I figured. I wish- I wish you could be happy here, you know?"
"The people hate me."
"You're different, they don't understand you, is all..."
"And different is such a bad thing?"
His lips were on hers a second later, warm mouth tasting like toothpaste and mint. He pulled back a second later, face dead serious. "No. Different is a wonderful thing..."
She could tell her meant it, too. He was reaching for something, strugglign to find words. "It's a game, Jamie. It's all just a game." he admitted finally. "Outside- your survive. That's it. It's simple and cruel and rough- it's everything you can handle. In here, though- the rules change. In here they want to see a girl who goes to school, who doesn't go outside the walls, they wanna see a kid- but we aren't kids."
"You fit in here. You understand what it takes to be outside, but they like you..."
"I play by their rules, Jamie. I go to school and act like I don't worry about things like food shortages and weak points in the wall... I do exactly what they want me to, and they treat me well. I play by their rules. You don't."
"I don't think I can." she avoided his eyes. He was getting to his feet a moment later, pulling a shoe box from his closet. He set it beside her on the bed and pulled it open- inside was the revolver she'd given him, as well as a handful of bullets for it. A few knives, too, and a flare, not to mention a can or two of food.
"You have to hide what they don't want to see." was all he said.
She nodded, before looking at the box carefully. "Where'd you get the can of food?" she asked finally. She hadn't seen canned goods like that in their kitchen.
"The storage room. Same thing with the bullets- it you only take a few at a time, they think they dropped them during inventory or something."
She looked over at him, shocked. "You stole?"
"It's not stealing. It's... preparing." he said. His eyes lit up with that glint she knew so well- the one he'd had at the prison, back when they were just kids and they'd been scheming something.
She grinned slightly. "Alright. Well- nice job preparing. I didn't think you had it in you."
Carl shrugged. "Do you know how boring it is without you here? I have to have something to keep me busy..."
"Are you kidding me? The sheriff's kid, swiping ammo-"
"I'm playing the game, Jamie. They think I'm a kid- they think I'm normal. But if shit happens- I can be ready. I am ready. Just- try to start fitting in a little more. Quit trying to teach the kids how to skin a squirell- it freaks out their moms and they don't wanna learn. I'm not asking you to change- I'm just asking you to act. Act like you're one of them. That way they'll treat you better, and you'll be happier here- all I want is for you to be happy."
She nodded, taking a moment to understand what he was saying. She understood it, and she was plesantly surprised- it was good to know the Carl she'd seen outside the walls, the smart, planning Carl- wasn't gone. He was only hidden in a shoebox in his closet.
She grinned. "You're a terrible influence. You know that, right?"
"I'm a terrible influence? You convinced me to drink Whiskey when we were thirteen. You had me sneak out to smoke with you last night. Not that it wasn't fun, but compared to you- I'm pretty tame."
"Unless you check your closet." she pecked him teasingly on the cheek before sliding his shoebox back into his closet.
He nodded, turning srious on her again. "Exactly. I'm acting while fitting in. You could do it too- just try to act a little- a little less dangerous."
"Oh, so now I'm dangerous?"
"You wear steel-toed boots and you hide a knife in one of them. You carry a pistol all day, every day. And your bow is pretty intimidating- you nearly stabbed someone with one of the arrows... Just act like a normal kid- a few less wepons, soem hidden under the clothes- and you just might like it here. Think about it?"
"I'll think about it." she agreed, looking up at him. He was a good three inches taller than her, and his shoulders were getting broad. They weren't kids anymore.
Carl flopped back on his bed, sighing. "Good. And one last thing."
"Yes?"
"Can you get me a gingerale?"
"God gave you legs for a reason." she said, grinning.
He whimpered pitifully. "Please?"
He was too damn cute. "Pansy." she muttered. But he heard her duck downstairs to grab him a can and grinned from where he laid on his bed. He knew she wouldn't let him down.