Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed and favorited. I appreciate it so much, you have no idea. Oh, and yay! A full Carl chapter just for you guys:) hope you like it!

Carl prided himself in his skills to adapt to situations. It was almost unreal how much he had changed since the beginning. A little boy, frightened and skittish, always hiding behind his mother's legs and peering around them with tearful eyes. Who could blame him? He was twelve, living in a world where the dead walked and the living were feared.

Carl wasn't twelve anymore.

He watched. He learned. He changed. Killing the Walkers became second nature. It was the only way to survive, the only way to be strong, and the ones lost in his life didn't deserve their memory to be tainted if he was scared of what they fought for.

He got stronger, both physically and mentally. He could run faster, use more brute strength in order to thrust a knife into a skull. His senses were more astute.

Which is why he could not fathom how a Walker snuck up on him so easily.

The basement was dingy and dirty, smelling strongly of rotting flesh. That enough was a dead giveaway to turn around and walk back up the stairs, back to Ashley, but one thing about Carl that did not change was his curiosity.

His steps creaked on the wooden stairs, making him cringe. He clenched his gun tighter, peering around the darkened basement with watchful eyes.

There. It was a box, resting on a metal shelf a few yards away, marked 'Snickers'.

His favorite.

He moved forward, smiling at the idea of presenting the box to Ashley. He could already picture the awed and pretty smile spreading over her face-

There was movement beside him, but it was too late to react. A garbled growl right by his ear, a skeletal grip on his shoulder. He could smell the putrid stench of the Walker's breath as it snapped at his neck.

He stumbled back, dropping his gun and heard it skid a few feet away. Crap. He lost his footing as he fought off the Walker's advances, falling backwards.

A sharp pain shot up his leg, making him cry out into the dark basement. Carl scrunched up his face at the unbearable throbbing in his ankle, like a hundred pricks slicing through his bone.

Did he break it? Shit, he had no idea how he was getting out of this one…

What was left of the Walker's jaw snapped open, growling into his face. Carl used all the strength he could muster to hold it away, but it was waning.

Frantically, he darted his eyes left and right, attempting to find a way to escape. He couldn't use brute force to shove off the Walker and make a run for it. He wasn't even sure he could make it up the stairs his foot was hurting so bad.

He spotted something on the shelf a few feet away. There, on the bottom shelf, sat a metal piece of a shelf, undoubtedly broken off one of them. It would have to do.

Carl forced down his panic, pushing it to the back of his mind. He had to focus. Grunting in pain, he kicked at the Walker's caved-in chest with his good foot, feeling the flimsy bone break beneath his boot. He knew it would not kill it, but it bought him a split second to crawl toward the shelf.

He reached out, closing his sweaty fingers around the cool, cylindrical metal piece, right before his jeans were clasped by dead fingers, tugging him down. Carl winced at the pain in his leg, and brought the weapon down hard on its head.

The crack was audible, but not enough. It growled loudly, scrambling up to take a bite out of his jugular, but he continued, bringing the metal and cracking it against its head. Over and over and over.

Blood splattered all over him, pooling around the floor at his back and drenching his entire body in thick, dark gore. Finally, the Walker stilled, slumping onto his body with a beaten head turned into mush. It slid onto his chest and neck.

Carl sucked in a gasp, trying to catch his breath and calm his racing heart. That was too close. Way too close.

He expected to hear Ashley's footsteps any second, coming down to scold him for taking too long and accuse him of eating all the candy without her, but that was nothing like what his ears caught onto.

More groans. More creaks and hungry growls deeper into the darkness of the basement that his eyes could not see.

How big was this freaking basement?!

A few shuffled closer, sliding footsteps echoing into the darkness. He was still trapped beneath the Walker.

"Carl?"

Oh no.

She ran down the stairs, two at a time, and he watched her eyes grow wide as she registered the scene before her. "Shit, are you okay?"

She pushed the Walker off of him, and he tried to stand, but his foot simply would not support his weight. He fell onto the cement with a startled cry of pain.

"My ankle," he grunted. "Ashley, get out of here. There's more."

"I'm not leaving you," she shot back sternly, her cheeks flushed with panic.

Carl could hear the shuffled steps come closer, hear the hungry moans. She had to get out, now.

"Ash, please," he begged. "I can't get up the stairs, and you can't carry me. Go back to my dad and Michonne."

He could smell them they were so close.

"No," she spat, eyes glistening. "Damn it, I left my knives on the counter."

"Leave!" he ordered. She would not die here.

"Not without you."

He could see the approaching Walker's silhouette over her shoulder. He could feel the blood soak into his back, and the putrid scent reach his nose. Wait…

"Agh," he hissed, flying up to his feet, ignoring the excruciating pain shoot up his leg. He gave no warning to Ashley before he grabbed her body and slammed her against the wall between two shelves, caging her between his arms in their little alcove.

She gasped at his sudden movement, wincing when the back of her head hit the cement wall. He'd have to apologize to her for that later, but now, they had more pressing issues to worry about.

"What are you-" Ashley began to say, but Carl cut her off by pressing closer, his mouth at her cheek.

"Shut up," he shushed. "Don't move."

He didn't turn to look over his shoulder when the Walker passed. He could sense when it got close; the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Please work. Don't notice them.

He held his breath, choosing to peer into Ashley's eyes instead to calm himself. Her silver orbs were blown wide with a mixture of fear and determination, looking over his shoulder at the Walker while slowing her breathing. Their bodies were flush together, leaving no space to move.

Carl felt his cheeks burn, and then cursed himself for it. There was absolutely no way he should be thinking about how close he was to her when a Walker was freaking four feet away.

The Walker blood soaked on his flannel and skin masked the human smell on him, and by covering her, hid Ashley from their attention as well.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins when he heard the Walker shuffle past, pausing right behind him. Ashley's fingers gripped the front of his shirt, and pressed their cheeks together.

She would be okay. If the Walker grabbed him, he'd distract it enough to give her room to escape. He wouldn't let her get caught. He couldn't.

"It's gone," Ashley whispered breathlessly against his grimy cheek, sending tingles down his spine. "It worked."

"There's more," he murmured back quietly. "I hear them coming."

"What do you want to do?" she asked. Before he could open his mouth, she immediately protested. "I'm not leaving you, so don't even ask me to."

"Ash-"

"Carl."

He sighed, defeated. "You're impossible."

"Shh," she hissed. "Two more."

He unconsciously pressed closer to her. Something in his subconscious told him he needed to save Ashley, protect her. He couldn't explain it, but the thought of a Walker tearing into her flesh made his skin crawl and blood boil.

He prayed the blood on his body transferred enough to hers to mask her smell. His shirt stuck uncomfortably to his form, coated in the thick blood.

"Carl," Ashley whispered, almost silently. He blinked his eyes open, not realizing he had even closed them, and met her stare. She glanced down, and he followed her gaze.

Oh. Crap. His hand was clenching the curve of her hip, almost too tightly. He didn't mean to. He cleared his throat lightly and weakened his grip."Sorry."

"I think they're gone for now," she murmured, peering over his shoulder. "We have to get out. Like soon."

"I know," he huffed. "Help me walk up the stairs?"

"Of course, but we have to go now."

They moved at once. He pulled away from her, their shirts sticking together for a moment from the blood, and he suddenly felt the pain coursing down his ankle. He nearly collapsed, but Ashley caught him.

"Come on," she said, tucking herself into his side and holding him around the waist. He thankfully draped his arm across her shoulder and limped quickly toward the stairs.

No Walkers were in sight. They were all probably at the back of the basement. Perfect.

They got to the foot of the stairs when he stumbled, banging his knee loudly on the first wooden step. Of course, this daring escape wouldn't be complete without him royally screwing up.

The sound reverberated, making him and Ashley pause in shock.

The groans were closer than he anticipated.

The first Walker made its appearance by the side of the stairs, another one right behind it. Lifeless, sunken eyes fixed on the both of them, and the first grabbed at Ashley.

No. He shoved her up the stairs, forcing her to have higher ground while he was left to face it. He kicked at his stomach, feeling it give away while it stumbled back into its friend.

Adrenaline continued to pulse through him, temporarily lessening the pain in his foot. Before he had a chance to get up the stairs, the fallen Walker moved to grab his foot. The injured one.

He screamed in agony, kicking at it head. Suddenly, he felt a whirring by his ear, and the Walker was down with a wooden piece sticking out of its head.

He gasped, glancing up at Ashley, with her splintered hands and wide eyes. She had ripped off a part of the railing beside her with her bare hands.

"Carl!"

He turned around and saw the second one crawl over its buddy, jaw snapping hungrily. Rags hung off its rotting frame. Suddenly, something glinted a few feet away, catching his attention.

His gun.

Huh, maybe some things were going his way today.

He dove for it, doing his best to ignore the strain of his injury.

His fingers curled around the trigger once he got to it, twisting onto his back and aiming at the approaching Walkers head. A clean shot.

He caught his breath, glancing up at Ashley, but she wasn't there. The staircase was empty.

'Good girl,' he thought to himself, but still, a part of him felt oddly empty at the thought of her being gone. It was okay though, she was safe. That was all that mattered.

More Walkers appeared around the corner. Jesus, what the hell were they even all doing down here?

He shot at another one, watching it go down and knock a few others along with it. He didn't have enough bullets; he couldn't walk on his own.

Things weren't looking too good for him, huh?

When the fifth Walker shuffled forward, he aimed his gun, but it only clicked. Empty.

Just when he thought he was done for…another whirring sound. Another fallen Walker.

A shining knife stuck out of it, and Carl lifted his eyes to the staircase.

Ashley was back. Ashley had her knives, and she was ready to kill.

She flicked her wrists and let the blades whip at them, plunging into their skulls right between the eyes.

She ran to him when the area was clear for the moment, helping him to his feet and stumbled toward the steps. He caught sight of his hat sitting by the shelf, and picked it up on the way, plopping it on his head.

"I got you, come on," Ashley chanted, rushing to help him up. Walkers followed behind them, stumbling clumsily as they attempted to get up the old steps.

They reached the top, and Carl collapsed on the tiled floor of the candy shop while Ashley rushed to shut and lock the basement door.

Fresh, non-decaying air flooded his lungs, which Carl sucked down greedily. They were okay. They were safe.

He saw her lay down next to him in fatigue.

"All that for a piece of chocolate?"

He peered at her at the corner of his eye in amusement, before feeling the chuckles rise up in his throat. He didn't know what was so funny, because really, nothing was, but he couldn't stop. The adrenaline was fading, his ankle was throbbing, and he couldn't help but laugh in pure relief.

She joined along after a moment, her soft giggles filling the small shop and laced with his deeper chuckles.

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist after a minute, the warmth of her skin going through the cloth of his shirt. "I'm glad you're okay. How's the ankle?"

"We'll deal with it later," he answered back tiredly. Now that the danger was gone he felt so tired. "Come on, we should go."

She rose to help him up, but his eyes caught on something on the floor. There was blood all over them, but the blood left behind where her head had been laying was different. Walker blood is a rusty brown, but this little stain was bright red.

"Ash," his voice was low. "Let me see your head."

She blinked at him, turning around. He touched her scalp, and felt her wince and pull away.

"Did you hit your head?" he wondered, worried.

"When you pushed me against the wall," she mumbled after a moment. "I'm fine though, seriously. Let's go home and get that ankle looked at, 'kay?"

With slight hesitation, he nodded and allowed her to help him to his feet.

They had been in that basement longer than he originally thought. Wisps of orange and pink crossed the Georgia sky, signaling the end of the day with a beautiful sunset. The air was warm on Carl's skin as Ashley helped him walk across the street, drying the thick deposit of Walker blood on his clothes and flesh.

"Still want to grab a few apples?" he asked.

"It's probably a good idea."

They walked, well, Carl limped, toward the tree across the street. He was glad Ashley wanted to show him the apples; they were beautiful.

In his old life, a plain old apple tree would never have caught his attention like this. Yet, it was hard to find something that remained pure and alive after the last two years. The red, ripe fruit shone prettily against the splash of color in the sky beyond it, swaying delicately in the breeze.

Ashley plucked one from a low branch, looking for a place on her to rub it on, but in the end, shrugged and took a big bite out of it.

"How is it?"

"Delicious," she grinned. "Come on, grab a few and we'll head back."

As they gathered a bagful of apples, Carl let his curiosity show.

"Hey, so how'd you learn to fight like that?"

"…Like what?"

"In the woods last week. Y'know, with the sliding and kicking and all that. Pretty badass."

She chuckled beside him. After a few more apples made their way in her bag, she shut it and turned to look at him fully. "My brother."

"Your brother?"

She smiled softly, looking over Carl's shoulder at the sunset. "Yeah. My dad made him get into martial arts classes and stuff. And then he passed it on to me."

They began walking back.

"What about the knives?"

Ashley sighed, absently playing with the handle of one sheathed at her waist.

"I never learned how to use a gun right. I saw a bunch of knives in a house one night, and figured I'd teach myself."

Whoa. "You taught yourself?"

"It's not hard. I can show you sometime. Only if you teach me how to use a gun."

"Fair enough."

They chatted aimlessly as she helped him made the rest of the trek home. Nothing too deep or personal, but enough so their conversation was never dull. Fortunately, they didn't run into any Walkers.

He liked her. Ashley. She was funny and knew how to hold her own in this world. She knew how to make him smile, something he thought only Michonne could do now, and after she stayed by his side in that basement, he felt even more appreciative of her.

He knew why he was so closed-off to her when they first met. He just…needed something to place his anger on; anger at everything: Losing Judith and their friends, the Governor… He was so lost and broken, and he still felt that way. He knew the immoral thoughts drifting through his head at night. He tried so hard to keep himself sane and principled.

Carl didn't need to hate Ashley. She was already making him better.

He wanted her to stick around.

"Can you get up the stairs?" she asked in concern once they approached the porch to the house.

"Yeah," he huffed. It was difficult; he could feel his ankle swelling immensely in his boot. When they reached the door, Ashley seemed to sway a little in her place.

"You good?" he held her steady, furrowing his brows in worry. She nodded firmly and opened the front door.

His dad was on them in a second.

"Where in the hell wer-"

His voice trailed off, blinking at their appearances.

They were both completely covered in dried Walker blood, from head to toe.

"We got apples," Ashley held up the satchel proudly, but her voice wavered, alarming Carl.

He glanced at her. The skin visible under the brown blood was paler than her usual olive complexion, and her eyes drooped.

"Ashl-"

The apples fell to the floor.

And that was when she collapsed.

Uh oh :o Well you got to see heroic Carl in this chapter! Next one shows the two teaching each other how to throw knives and shoot a gun, so keep an eye out for the next update. I'll probably post it by next week. Personally, that next one was my favorite to write (slight fluffiness) hope you don't mind that hehe

Review please!