Alright folks! I finally updated!
This chapter takes place between the re-taking of Alexandria, but before Rick and Daryl meet Jesus. It's in that sweet spot of about two weeks between episodes. It's mostly character advancement between Carl and Jamie, as they realize that they can, even within the walls in some measure, take care of themselves. It's also a little bit of rebellion thrown in.
The clinking of silverware on plates was the only real sound as the dishes were loaded into the sink, the water turned on, and the washing begun.
Walker carcasses, the thirty or so that'd been left lying in the streets, were being dragged to piles to burn during the night, and Alexandria was rebuilding.
"Carl. You need to see Denise today. I made you an appointment for a little after noon, she's expecting you. Alright?" Rick spoke.
Carl nodded silently, his chair scraping the floor as he stood, heading towards the stairs but stopping short when he bumped into the wall beside the staircase. He fumbled for a brief moment, re-adjusted, then climbed the stairs, not encountering any further trouble.
The adults in the kitchen waited until they were sure Carl was out of earshot before Daryl spoke. "How's he doin'?"
Rick sighed. "He hardly talks. Doesn't smile. He bumps into things- I can tell he's frustrated, but he's adjusting."
"It'll take time for him to adapt. It took Daddy awhile to get used to it, with his leg..." Maggie said calmly. "How's he taking it, though?"
"He doesn't talk about it, like I said. Just... pretends it doesn't exist. I know it hurts, it's pretty bad, but he just ignores it. He needs to get it cleaned, though, or it's gonna get infected- I'm letting him be like an adult, here, go to Denise by himself, but you bet your ass I'll meet him there and be sitting through the appointment. He may think he's grown, but he's not. He doesn't have to talk about it, but he at least has to make sure it doesn't get infected."
Carl stepped into his room, sighing.
Jamie sat on it bed, thumbing through one of his comic books. She'd skipped breakfast, instead choosing to sleep in, and she looked up, making sure not to double-take when she saw Carl's face.
It was difficult not to, really- she was so used to seeing him with two eyes, that only having one made most people reflexively flinch, but he'd learned to school her expression so as not to upset him. She'd also made certain not to approach him on his blind side, and would politely ignore it whenever he'd bump into walls, not used to the depth-perception of only having one eye.
"Mornin'."
"Morning." Carl smiled slightly, sitting on the edge of his bed. "That a Batman Comic? I was reading that..."
Jamie smirked slightly. "I found it on the nightstand, so... it's mine now." she flashed him a playful grin, and Carl rolled his eye at her, before he nudged her over, sitting beside her so they could both read it.
It took Carl slightly longer to read than it usually did- he kept blinking his remaining eye and struggling slightly, but Jamie said nothing, simply waiting for him to gently take her hand and turn the page when he was ready. By the time they were finished reading, it'd been a good fifteen minutes.
Carl sighed, blinking slightly and scrubbing at his good eye. Reading was harder, now, it took more concentration, what with having to blink and all...
"You know, you're the only one who hasn't been treating me like some kind of cripple." Carl admitted.
Jamie shrugged. "It bother you? The way people treat you?"
Carl sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "A little, yeah. Like, it's annoying enough to run into stuff, but whenever someone looks over at me, they do a double take and wince. Makes me feel ugly. And my Dad- he doesn't say anything, but he's worried. He wants me to go see Denise today, but he can forget about it- I wish they'd all just stop acting like it's a big deal and leave it alone. It's not that big a deal anyways."
Carl sighed, looking thoroughly frustrated and flopping back on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Does it hurt?" Jamie asked quietly, looking down at him.
"Throbs sometimes. I keep feeling like I have to blink, but it's not there."
"Maybe you should-"
"I'm not going to see Denise." Carl said firmly.
Jamie sighed. "It's gonna get infected. You should at least let someone clean it for you..."
Carl frowned, considering for a moment. "You volunteering?"
Jamie shrugged. "I guess so. C'mon." she'd latched onto his wrist, dragging him across the hallway into the bathroom. Carl hopped up onto the sink, sitting on the vanity as Jamie grabbed some rags and peroxide, swinging the door shut behind them.
She gently undid the bandages behind his head, taking special care to gingerly peel back the gauze over the wound. It'd been two days, the gauze was sticking, and Carl grit his teeth slightly but didn't make a sound.
He watched Jamie's face as she worked. there was no disgust on her face, only thoughtfulness, as she wet the rag and got ready to dab at the wound.
"Sorry in advance." was all she said, before she was going to work, the warm rag touching the tender flesh and making Carl flinch slightly. Still, she didn't back down, instead working to get some of the dried blood off the wound without removing the scabbing.
It took five minutes of careful work to rinse the wound out thoroughly, before she was wetting a rag with peroxide and swabbing it over the exposed flesh.
Carl hissed in pain as it stung slightly, bubbling and turning white as it cleaned the wound.
Jamie allowed the rag to fall to the floor, forgotten, as she used her teeth to open a fresh package of gauze, fingers carefully placing it and securing it with medical tape.
"Done." she announced happily.
Carl merely grunted, pushing himself off the counter and standing, peering in the mirror. He blinked his good eye before he was reaching out, touching the fresh gauze, a bit surprised at the neatness of it.
"Thanks."
"No problem. You'd do the same for me. You've done the same for me, before the walls." she was busy picking up the soiled rags and wrappers from the floor, tossing them into the waste bin.
"Wanna go for a walk?" Carl asked quietly, peering out the window.
He was tired of being inside, of feeling everyone silently watch him fumble.
Jamie ran into her room, grabbing her pistol from her nightstand. Carl's own gun was already at hsi waist- neither of them had left the house without a gun, not since the walls had been breached.
They clambered down the stairs one after the other, Carl heading for the back door, screen slamming shut behind him.
Rick frowned, sitting up straighter. "Should he really be doing that?" he wondered aloud. He wasn't sure Carl should be out and about so soon, it'd only been two days, after all...
Jamie clambered down after him, nodding to Daryl before she too was bounding out the back door, jumping off the porch and jogging to catch up with Carl.
She pulled something from her pocket, and Carl looked over at it, recognizing it and grinning. "Wanna go for a smoke?"
Carl nodded and grinned, and they were taking off towards the abandoned house.
They spent the day talking and smiling slightly. Jamie noticed how Carl had been bumping into a couple things and blinking rapidly, but chose to say nothing. The only thing she made a conscious effort to sit on the side of Carl's good eye. She figured that, were she in Cal's situation, she'd have wanted people where she could always see them.
So she made a conscious effort to stay on his right side, sitting on the musty green sofa and blowing smoke with Carl.
"You don't have to do that, you know." Carl spoke up from where he sat in the middle of the couch. "You've earned it, and I trust you. I don't trust a lot of people- but you- I want you to watch my back. You can watch my blindside." he took a puff of his cigarette, blowing out his smoke. she moved over to sat on his other side.
"The only shame in it is I won't get to keep looking at you" he gave her that flirty grin he had, and she rolled her eyes and socked him in the shoulder.
"You didn't see Denise today." Rick spoke up during dinner, giving his son a serious look. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he scrutinized his son from across the table, looking unamused. "Care to explain why?"
Carl simply shrugged, not looking up from his plate of food.
The rest of the dinner conversation had fallen silent, and nobody really spoke, all watching the father and son converse.
"Carl. You gonna say anything?" Rick demanded.
Once again, Carl shrugged. "Didn't need to go."
"You DO, Carl, and I have half a mind to drag you down there right now. You can't play games with your health, not now, when there's so few supplies."
"I'm fine."
"Really? Because I'm having a hard time believing it right now." Rick glared at the boy, but Carl wouldn't be intimidated. He simply stood, turning. "I can take care of myself." his eyes laid on Jamie for the fraction of a second, and she knew thw words that were left unsaid. I will always watch your blindside.
Carl turned and headed upstairs. Rick sighed, frustrated, before letting his open fist slam on the table. "That boy..." he muttered, frustrated.
Michonne placed a hand on his upper arm in an attempt to calm him, and Jamie said nothing, simply finishing her meal and placing her dishes in the sink and slipping quietly upstairs.
There was a silhouette in her doorway that night. She sat up in bed, careful not to wake Daryl, and cocked her head at Carl expectantly. He simply raised a pack of cigarettes into the air and grinned, his silent question on the air.
She smirked. It was nearly midnight, of course, but she edged off her bed and slipped down the stairway with him quietly, trying to to giggle or alert anyone of their presence and allowing the night to swallow them up, making sure to shut the screen door calmly behind her before they were running, taking off towards that abandoned house with the musty green couch.
There was nothing like a good smoke between friends.
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