This chapter is a little slower than the others, but I hope you still like it! Enjoy:)
Her whole body was numb.
No. It couldn't be. Nonononono.
Her chest felt tight, like she was struggling for air and walls were closing in on her. An uncontrollable chill ran up her spine, rendering her motionless.
She didn't realize she was mumbling under her breath as her horror-stricken eyes latched onto one specific Zack.
"No. No…"
He looked so heartbreakingly the same as when she last saw him. With the unruly mop of brown hair atop his head that she always bugged him to cut, and his favorite red t-shirt adorning his torso.
Not anymore.
He hobbled toward her across the water, his skin a pasty gray from decomposition, flaking over certain areas.
This couldn't be happening.
Her vision blurred. She couldn't find her breath as she met his blank gaze.
The once friendly green eyes that crinkled at the corners were milky white, focused on her hungrily. No.
"-shley! Move!"
She blinked. The vision of Dylan in her mind suddenly turned to another Zack, reaching out toward her with bloody, decayed fingers. Her mouth opened in a silent scream when another body flew into it, knocking the both of them to the moist earth.
Carl struggled with the Zack, an incomprehensible tangle of both living and dead limbs on the ground. He growled, grabbing a nearby rock and smashing it into its head repeatedly until it ceased moving.
Ashley couldn't find her voice. She was frozen in place, her legs turned to stone as her gaze returned to the very familiar Zack stumbling in the stream, moving closer and closer…
Oh, Dylan.
Blue lights filled her hazy vision, shining through and piercing her soul. They made her feel calm…made her heavy heart feel lighter. So pretty.
Not lights. Eyes.
"Ashley." Carl pleaded. His hands cupped her cheeks, forcing her to focus on him. "Ash, please. We need to leave. I don't have enough ammo."
She couldn't respond.
It was impossible. How could he be a Zack? Her mind wouldn't accept it. No, impossible.
Yet, the evidence was visible right over Carl's shoulder. Closer.
"Ash. Ashley, look at me."
She gasped, sucking in a lungful of breath. Carl didn't move, pressing his forehead to hers while his eyes flicked back and forth between her wide, unseeing ones.
"Please. We have to go."
He didn't give her a choice.
Carl grabbed her waist, pulling her with all his strength in the other direction. Their bag was over his shoulder already.
Suddenly, she snapped out of it. She could feel the protests exploding out of her throat as she was dragged away.
"NO!" she shrieked. "No, I can't leave him like that!"
Carl wouldn't listen. It was at that moment she noticed how many Zacks had come out of the forest. There were at least ten, half of them already across the river and hobbling after them. Carl had taken out one that got too close to her.
Dylan wouldn't want that. No, she couldn't leave him like that, just wandering as a Zack. Nononono.
She was frantically trying to escape Carl's arms as he limped through the grass with her.
"Please, Carl," she cried, hysterical. "Let me go."
"No," he snapped. His expression then softened a bit."There's too many. I'm sorry, Ash."
She wanted to explode. She wanted to cry. God, she just wanted to hug Dylan again.
They arrived back down the street of the house within fifteen minutes with no trail of Zacks behind them. When Carl stopped running, she slumped to the hard gravel.
Her limbs felt like rubber, and her chest filled with lead. Her knees scraped against the street, but she didn't care. Oh, she didn't care about anything.
How could she have left him like that?
Ashley hated Carl right then. She loathed him. He made her leave. He forced her to leave Dylan back there with the other Zacks. His fault. All his fault.
Proper reasoning came through her anger, however. She very well knew it wasn't Carl's fault at all; he was just trying to protect her. But, God, why did everything hurt so much?
She dropped her head into her hands.
And then she let it all out.
She cried, deep, heart wrenching sobs escaping painfully from her throat into the quiet neighborhood. She couldn't remember the last time she cried like this. She cried for everyone who lost everything in this goddamn world. She cried for her mom.
She cried for Dylan and what he had become.
Ashley felt warmth on her back, rubbing soothing circles against the thin cloth. Her sobs turned to weeps, which eventually diminished into occasional sniffles.
Hesitantly, she lifted her head, blinking through her tear-soaked eyes to peer right. Carl sat there beside her; his eyes dulled with compassion and sadness, looking more the shade of a stormy sky. He had no idea why she was so upset, but she knew he understood. He always understood her.
"Let's go home," he muttered softly, helping her off the dirty road.
Rick took one look at her face and immediately knew something was wrong. He was silent when Carl helped her through the front door, nodding once to Carl, exchanging a look that Ashley didn't bother trying to interpret. She felt so tired all of a sudden.
Hours passed, and the once exciting, hopeful day turned into a somber evening. Carl had helped her into a bedroom upstairs, tucking her into the twin-sized bed and giving her space to think.
She spent hours burying her face into the stark pillow, wishing the memory of Dylan's putrefied and rotting face would disappear. Now that she knew he was out there, wandering the streets looking for flesh to tear into made her want to cry all over again. She was so frantic and frenzied earlier, when now…she was so tired and lonely.
She just needed someone to hug.
Ashley remembered Carl. He protected her earlier that day, not letting any Zacks come close to her, while he was weaponless and injured. He understood her, not asking any questions and doing what needed to be done by making their escape.
The least she owed him was an explanation.
Silently, Ashley urged her sore muscles to lift her from the bed. She padded down the empty hall, feeling the cold wood permeate through her thin socks, until she carefully pushed open the door to where Carl was staying.
It wasn't that late in the night, but when Ashley peered into the room, Carl was asleep.
He was slumped against the headboard of his bed, an open comic book splayed open on his lap with a lit flashlight beside him. His hat was propped on the bedside table, displaying his newly washed, soft-looking hair.
Despite the storm of emotions running through her, Ashley couldn't help by smile softly at the sight.
It would have been smart to just let him sleep and go back to her room, but the overwhelming need to be near him took over. Ashley entered the room, walking closer to his sleeping form. The position looked uncomfortable, so when she carefully sat on the bed beside him, he stirred at the movement.
"Ash?" his voice was hoarse, and he rubbed at his eyes before blinking up at her.
"Hey."
"How are you feeling?" he asked immediately, looking more attentive now that he was more awake.
She ignored his question. "I figured we should talk. That I should tell you…"
"Tell me?"
"About Dylan," she murmured softly. "My brother."
Carl couldn't think of anything worse than seeing Ashley cry.
Sure he'd experienced a countless amount of tragedies within three short years, but after everything that happened to him, he figured he was tough enough to handle anything. Well, at least most things.
One of the things that rattled him more than he'd ever admit was the sound of those wretched sobs coming from her mouth. It killed him to see her like that. Ashley was so strong, so collected and sure of herself, but when she saw that Walker earlier that day, he couldn't comprehend how much she had broken down.
It would undoubtedly take a while for her to open up. He expected her to remain in her room for a good amount of time, to recuperate until she felt good and whole again.
Which is why it surprised him so much when came to his room hours later asking to talk about it.
"Yeah," he blurted, shoving his comic to the side and scooting left to make room for her. "Sure, we can talk."
She gave him this sad smile and slowly crawled in beside him to they were side by side on the small mattress.
Carl watched as she tried to find a comfortable position. Ashley shifted her legs; bringing her knees up to her chin for a moment, before sliding them back down shakily. She was nervous, revealing this information to him, he realized.
"So," he began. "Dylan's your brother?"
"Was," she spoke sharply. "He was my brother. Yeah. We were inseparable."
Carl listened attentively as she told her story.
"It was just three weeks before I met you guys. We were all together: Mom, Dad, me, Dylan," she explained. "We…got into a bit of trouble after raiding a store."
"What happened?" he asked carefully, peering at the girl beside him. She stared forward, mind engrossed in the memory. Her gray eyes flickered, and her long lashes cast a shadow across her forehead from his flashlight.
"There were a few Zacks coming after us. Mom…she was pregnant, she couldn't run for that long. Dad refused to drop our bags to carry her. Son of a bitch."
Her hand clenched into a fist between them, and Carl didn't think twice before placing his palm over it and lacing their fingers together. She squeezed his hand tightly, gratefully.
"They were too close. We wouldn't be able to get away," Ashley's voice wavered. "But then…Dylan, he stopped and…"
She sniffed, turning to bury her face into Carl's shoulder. He could feel her breath on his neck as she continued.
"He said he'd lead them away and meet us back at our hideout. I begged him not to go, Carl, but he wouldn't listen. Mom did too, but he just said he'd see us later and ran off in another direction, shouting and throwing rocks at the Zacks…"
She was quiet for a moment, and Carl thought she fell asleep or something, until she shifted beside him. Carefully, he lowered until they were properly lying down on the bed.
"We got away," Ashley said softly. "I waited at the camp for him. I sat there, day and night, but it was the last time I'd see him. Until…"
Carl shut his eyes at the sound of the pain in her voice. He wanted to take it all away from her.
She clenched the fabric of his shirt between her trembling fingers.
"I thought he was off somewhere else, maybe," she cried. "Alive. Or…maybe the worst would be that he died. For good, I mean. I never thought…"
She wept softly, and Carl quickly maneuvered her so she was pressed into his chest, holding her to him in a tight embrace.
"Shh, it's okay," he whispered into her hair. "I'msorry, Ash. I'm so sorry."
His heart went out to her. She's gone through hell, just like the rest of them had. He wished there was some way to help her pain, to make that confident twinkle in her eye come back again like when he first met her.
He listened silently as her cries weakened, not minding in the slightest when she dampened his t-shirt. Carl only wished he had someone to cry to in the past.
"Thank you," her voice was a whisper. "I'm sorry. I don't usually cry this much."
"Hey, don't worry about it," he rubbed her shoulder with the arm wrapped around her. "Cry all you want."
"I'm probably all cried out now," she chuckled, but it was a sad sound.
They lay there on his bed quietly for a few minutes as he listened to her even breaths. He remembered the two of them lying on the bank of that river, similar to this position, and a small smile spread over his cheeks.
The memory would become one of his favorites, he knew that for sure, but it was bittersweet. It was tainted by her brother arriving, and Carl had no idea how long it would take for her to recover.
A knock sounded at the door.
He glanced up as Michonne poked her head in.
"Hey," she greeted softly. "She okay?"
Carl looked down to see Ashley had fallen asleep on his chest. The sight made him smile again, and he watched the peaceful look on her face for a brief moment before responding.
"She'll be fine, I think." He hoped.
"I'll tell your dad you both fell asleep before he gets any ideas," she winked. His cheeks burned, and he hoped the dim room would mask it. Unfortunately, Michonne had razor-sharp senses, so she simply chuckled under her breath and bid him a goodnight.
Carl carefully leaned over and turned off the flashlight, basking the room in inky darkness.
He lay back, thinking about the girl lightly snoring in his arms. His life couldn't have gotten any better without Ashley entering it. She was like a burst of hope in his world, something he only thought Judith would be. Now that his sister was gone, he could see Ashley taking over that position.
And he'd never forgive himself if he let something happen to her. He wasn't losing anyone else. Never again.
With that final thought, Carl felt his eyes shut on its on accord, and his head dropped softly atop Ashley's as he drifted to sleep.
He sensed movement in the dark room, and Carl slowly woke up, accessing what was happening.
His arms were empty and cold, signaling Ashley was up and out of bed. He opened his eyes just a sliver, watching as the small room flooded with extremely faint early morning light. It seemed to be about 5 in the morning, way too early to be awake, but there she was, slipping on her boots as quietly as she could be the door.
Ashley's movements were precise…silent. She was on a mission.
To be honest, Carl saw it coming.
He quietly watched as she gathered her knives, tucking several into her boots and belt. After some consideration, she grabbed a gun and also tucked it into her holster.
What did she think she would do? Go out at dawn by herself and finish off what she wanted to the day before? It was crazy…a suicide mission.
She glanced at Carl after standing still for a second, and he quickly shut his eyes to feign sleep.
He heard footsteps getting closer and closer, and then her voice.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. Soft lips pressed against his forehead. It felt really similar to a goodbye.
Then, the room was silent.
"Yeah, right," Carl scoffed to himself, hopping out of bed with a purpose. He grabbed his gun and hat, plopping it on his head before hurriedly exiting the room.
He'd have to be crazy before he'd let her out on her own.
She didn't get very far. They were halfway down the street before she heard his running footsteps.
She whipped around with skillful precision, pointing her gun in his direction with narrowed eyes. They popped open when they registered it was him.
"Carl? What are you-" they narrowed again, her expression tightening. "I have to do this. You can't make me go back."
He didn't answer. It was still dark out, the hints of the sun barely peeking over the horizon and casting faint orange and blue light over her beautiful face. Carl saw it in her appearance: the fierce determination, her strong exterior. But he knew how broken she was inside.
He found his voice. "I'm not."
Her eyebrows furrowed further in confusion. "Then why are you-"
"What does it look like?" a lopsided smile stretched across his cheeks. He spun his pistol around his finger. "I'm coming with you."
Again, sorry that this chapter wasn't as action-packed and a bit on the short side, but the next one will hopefully make up for that:) And we finally know who Dylan is!
Sadly, I'm thinking the next chapter will be the last:( I don't have any other ideas/situations for Carl and Ashley to get into, so if you have any, let me know and I'll make the story longer!
Thank you so so so much to all the reviewers out there! I appreciate all your support, and you're all the reason I continue writing this story:)