So… It's been a few years since my last update. I'm not sure if I should offer an apology.
I've started this story back in 2017, during what had probably been the most difficult period in my life. My sister passed away after a long battle with cancer, and I realize now that I was using this piece to work through my grief. I guess that's why family is so central to the story, angels and zombies aside.
I've let it go for a while, but the story still lived on in my brain. I just couldn't get the words out, somehow. Now I'm once again going through a rough patch - nobody's dying this time, thank God - but I figured, writing has helped me before - why not pick up where I left off?
I know there are probably very few people reading this, especially after all this time, but it's good just to get it out there. There's so much more to tell! I know I'm not that much of a writer, but maybe I can still tell a good story.
I'm going to try for regular updates in the upcoming weeks. If you're reading this - I appreciate it. Thank you.
Reminder - continuity wise, the story picks up around TWD mid-season 6, right around when the Saviors plotline picked up. Cas and "his kids" were on their way to Alexandria when they stumbled on a group of walkers and got stranded.
Chapter 24: The F Word
It was a scorching hot day.
Enid wore her tan-colored jumpsuit zipped down to the waist, with the sleeves tied around her middle. She liked the jumpsuit. Enough to have washed it a few times already, though there was not much she could do about the paint splatters. The jumpsuit was comfortable and came with deep pockets.
In a kinder world, Enid would have filled those pockets with snacks, fit for a trek in the woods on a hot and sunny day. She would have carried fresh water sealed in a leakproof bottle, a fat tube of sunscreen, and top-of-the-line mosquito repellent.
In a kinder world, she wouldn't have a rash building up from excess underboob sweat.
Their world wasn't particularly kind, but that was all right. Her pockets had plenty of room for the black walnuts she and Carl were picking off the forest floor, plus however many they could fit into Carl's backpack.
Enid had expected a token of resistance when she'd dragged Carl away from the others. Everyone was still so riled up after all the drama, and they had only just begun to settle in their lakeside camp. Carl had joined her easily enough, however, leaving Judith in their friends' care.
It had been one hell of a day. They'd lost their ride and most of their supplies in an ambush, surviving only thanks to Castiel's unique brand of justice. Saving their lives had come with a cost, since Castiel had crashed hard afterward, and they'd left a big, conspicuous mess behind them.
Luckily, they had managed to put some distance between them and whatever was left of their poor van. With a bit more luck, they'd be able to lay low long enough for Castiel to recover.
The fresh air was a nice change, at least. The woods were quiet, save for some chirping insects and the wind rustling among the trees. Enid and her friends had spent far too long cooped up in the old van, bumping elbow and teetering with every bump in the road.
Enid picked up another black walnut off the ground. She grimaced at her stained hands. She knew it would only get grosser once they dehusked and boiled the things. Black walnuts were messy.
"I don't know, Enid. They look kind of rotten," Carl said. He crouched a few feet away from her, inspecting a pile of black and green balls. "Are you sure we can eat them?"
"Totally," Enid replied cheerfully, thumping her bulging pocket. Walking back to camp was going to be awkward as hell, but it was going to be worth it. "I used to pick these up with my dad all the time. I'm surprised you haven't, what with your gardening thing and all."
"We grew food," Carl grumbled.
"This is food." Enid rolled her eyes. "You gotta cook 'em, and um, my dad liked to dry them out first, but they should still be alright without." Apologetic, she added, "Just maybe a teeny-tiny-bit mushy."
Carl snorted. "Sounds delicious."
Enid shrugged. Mushy walnuts weren't her idea of a snack, either, but she could cope without too much whining. It wasn't as though they could afford to be too picky.
Of all days to miss breakfast! It happened in spite of Castiel's usual insistence ("I've been reliably informed that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Enid.")
It was only one meal. It wasn't like they were starving.
But they were hungry, and it was going to get worse.
They were supposed to be on their way to Alexandria, not scrambling for supplies in the middle of nowhere. But whether they liked it or not, circumstances had left them stranded - with two young children in their care. They simply couldn't afford to tiptoe toward real hunger.
Enid managed to squeeze one more walnut into her pocket before closing the flap. "We're gonna need to figure out how to crack them open. We used to run them over with the car, but I'm not sure the truck's up to it." She mused. They had stolen a truck off their attackers before the piece of shit had died on them too. "Cas probably could've helped with that," she said, making a crushing gesture with her fist.
"We can always crack them against Jake's head. His skull's thick enough," Carl joked as he stood, zipping his backpack closed. "I think that's all I can carry. Do you wanna head back to camp?"
Enid sighed. There was actually another reason why she'd asked Carl to come foraging with her. A reason that didn't have anything to do with walnuts.
That morning, the twins had offered a disturbing piece of information. Apparently, they'd belonged to the same group Alexandria had gone against most recently, as part of the deal to get supplies from the Hilltop people.
The Saviors.
Enid didn't know much about them. She didn't care to. When Rick had called a town meeting to talk about a possible deal with Hilltop, Enid hadn't been invited. Nor was Carl. The adults hadn't wanted them to know all the gory details.
It didn't mean she didn't know. At least, she knew the rough outline. Alexandria had "taken care" of the Saviors, in exchange for food and supplies. Whatever that meant - it hadn't been pretty. Enid knew it had hit Glenn particularly hard. Whatever Glenn had seen, whatever he had to do, he wasn't at peace with it. And maybe the twins wouldn't be, either.
After a long sigh, Enid said, "Actually, there is something I wanted to talk to you about."
Carl's head tilted her way. It was something he'd taken on doing more and more often since he'd lost his eye. "You want to talk about the Saviors." He smiled a little at her look of surprise. "I figured you didn't drag me all the way out here for walnuts."
"It's complicated," Enid said, unhappily, shifting from one foot to the next. "I- look, Carl. I hate to say it, but we may need to rethink Jake and Scott coming to Alexandria."
Carl looked as though she'd slapped him.
"Nothing's changed," he said tersely before pushing past her, back toward camp.
Enid grabbed his arm. "Carl-"
Carl came to a stop but shook his arm out of her grip. He turned around to face her, for once not slating to hide his injured side. "Jesus, Enid. They're Scott and Jake. They're our friends. More than that, they're family. After everything - after everything we've been through together - you want to cut them loose now ?"
"Of course not! They're my friends too. But, Carl-"
"What? Do you really think I would've left Judith back there with them if I didn't trust them?"
"Will you just listen-"
"And how come you didn't ask Mikey out here? Hmm? He's from Alexandria, too. Doesn't he get a vote?"
"It's not about who gets a vote, dumbass. " Enid shoved him. Not very hard, but enough to shut him up. "It's about Rick."
Carl's angry frown melted to confusion. "My dad-"
"Scares the shit out of me," Enid interrupted, holding Carl's gaze.
Carl, caught off guard, took a step back. "What's that got to do with anything?"
A gust of wind rustled the branches overhead. In spite of the heat, Enid shivered under Carl's accusatory glare. But she refused to back down. It wasn't a lie. Enid had been wary of Rick Grimes since the beginning. Ever since he'd pummeled Ron's dad before freaking out at Deanna, unhinged and covered in blood, waving his gun around, till Michonne finally had to knock him out.
As gently as she could, Enid tried to explain. "Look, Carl, your dad's-" disturbed, psychotic, off his nut, "-not all the way there. You said so yourself." She gazed at Carl evenly, willing him to understand. "And we've been gone a long time ."
Carl frowned. "So what? We've taken in all sorts of people before, even Tara was-" He shook his head. "I mean, it's not like the twins even liked the Saviors. They wanted to leave."
"But they didn't, Carl." Enid pointed out, not unkindly. The creature who'd abducted them all might've done Jake and Scott a favor, but it wasn't like they had actually run away from the Saviors. "They got taken away. Just Like us."
Carl's mouth thinned unhappily. "So it's like that."
Enid wanted to scream in frustration. "It's not that. Look, the Saviors… I heard Maggie talking. Before we left. She wanted to put up extra guards, more patrols. She was worried. Everyone was worried. They thought the Saviors might hit us back. So when we disappeared, when you and Judith suddenly vanished, who do you think got the blame?"
"We don't even know there are any Saviors left ."
"But if there are? Whatever happened with Hilltop was bad enough. What if, since we've been gone, your dad's on a rampage? What if he's picked up an all-out-war with the Saviors?" She grimaced. "And yeah, I know they were shitty people. And Jake, Scott, they wanted to get away from that. With good reason, probably. I mean, Glenn was all torn up about it, coming back from Hilltop."
Carl opened his mouth to speak, but Enid interjected, "And the thing is - the twins, they lived with the Saviors for who knows how long. Maybe there were people there they'd actually cared about? People they don't want to see getting burned alive? Don't you think they deserve to know what kind of shit they're walking into ?"
A heavy silence hung between them. Finally, Carl nodded. "I'll talk to them."
Enid eyed him warily. "You'll talk to them?"
"Jake and Scott. You're right, they deserve to know what happened. I don't know what dad is doing, if there really are any Saviors left… We'll figure it out, whatever happens." He adjusted the grip on his backpack. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
Enid nodded slowly, though her stomach sank.
They trudged along in silence back to the camp, leaves crunching under their feet. The conversation went better than she'd expected, but the sick feeling lingered. It was difficult to make sense of.
Enid didn't want to say goodbye to the twins. Or anyone else, for that matter. But maybe that would be for the better?
Carl had said that they were family. It was so easy for him to throw that word around - he still had his father, still had his sister. But Enid? She'd already lost the only family she'd ever had.
The telltale sound of a walker's hoarse moan pierced her thoughts. It dragged itself toward them, a pitiful creature with two broken legs and paper-thin skin. Carl ran his blade through its skull with ease. Out of habit, Enid rooted through the dead walker's pockets. There was nothing in there except for an old photograph; a smiling family from another lifetime.
Suddenly exhausted, Enid slumped to the ground beside the dead body.
"You okay?"
"Family, huh?" Enid chucked as she returned the photo to the corpse's pocket.
Carl shrugged. He cleaned his knife with a handful of dry leaves before resheathing it. "You don't think so?"
Enid bit her lip, contemplative. She definitely felt something for Carl. Claire was her best friend. Glenn and Maggie had taken her under their wing like a little sister. She cared. Of course she cared. More than she wanted to.
But family?
Enid thought of her funny old dad, a middle-aged chemistry teacher who'd used to let his eight-year-old daughter cut his hair, and had gone out to forage for them even though he himself was allergic to nuts. She thought of her fierce mother, the smartest woman she'd ever known, a woman who had worn the ugliest cardigans in all of creation, and had once killed a walker with a nail file.
Enid opened her mouth to tell Carl all that, but instead said, "They were Atheists, you know?"
"Uh, who?"
"My parents." Enid smiled sadly. "They would've really liked Cas."
"Everyone likes Cas," Carl replied easily.
Carl sat down too, just on the other side of the carcass. The body smelled like rot and decay, but the smell of death had already permeated everything in their lives. They were used to it.
"It's stupid," said Enid. She picked up a small leaf and absentmindedly rolled it between her fingers. "I know there's an afterlife. I mean, I know it for a fact. How many people get to say that and mean it?"
Carl grinned a little. "You know I'm from Georgia, right?"
Enid flicked the leaf at him. "I'm serious! Losing people-"
"I know. It doesn't make it easier."
"I don't know if I can do that anymore," Enid admitted. "And I feel like we're walking toward a powder keg, Carl."
Carl's jaw tightened. "Yeah, well, world hasn't changed just 'cause you did. We're always walking toward something . But you're still going to keep on surviving. Because that's who you are . You're a survivor, Enid." He gave her a raw, open look. "And you will lose people again. And again, and again. That's just the way it is now. Not… not everyone gets to have miracles."
Enid reached over the corpse, taking Carl's hand in her own. "I'm sorry - you're the one who's almost lost Judith today, and I'm here being all dumb and weepy."
Carl smiled softly. "Judith's been through more scraps than most of us," he said quietly. "But that was… that…"
The ambush. Judith's dying in Carl's arms, her miraculous resurrection. Enemies, dead and alive, dropping like flies all around them.
"It was magic," said Enid.
And Castiel had paid the price.
Whatever curse Tlaloc had laid on Castiel back at the ship was still very much affecting him. As far as both of them knew, Castiel still hadn't regained consciousness. Enid didn't know what might've happened if Claire hadn't talked Castiel down, right before he'd collapsed, but it obviously could have gone a lot worse.
Enid had a sudden sinking realization.
Bullets didn't hurt Castiel. Scribbles made out of cheap red paint, however, had kept him locked up and immobile for well over a year. And fixing Judith - that had hurt him a lot, too. Getting close to people, to them , that was a weakness.
Castiel was an angel, but he wasn't all powerful. And clearly, he wasn't at all invulnerable.
How many people out there knew the right wards, the right spells, the right weapons to hurt an angel?
"We can't let anyone find out about him," said Enid, anxiously.
Carl frowned. "Huh?"
Enid told him everything. "Cas - we have to keep him a secret. What he is. Think about it - if people found out what he can do, the wrong people, even our people - " people who suffered, lost loved ones, risked getting bit every single time they stepped outside "-imagine what that'll do to him, what they'll do to him."
Carl gripped her hand tightly. "We won't let that happen."
Enid said, "We have to protect him."
They sat there in silence for several long minutes, holding hands over a desiccated corpse because neither one of them wanted to be the first to let go. Finally, Carl stood with a sigh, pulling Enid up as well.
"Come on," said Carl, picking up his backpack that was stuffed full of black walnuts. "Let's get back to the others. We still need to figure out how to cook these godawful things."