Disclaimer: Not mine

Notes: Thanks to all the readers; we're getting there guys hang in there! ; )

Finryl Forever and Ever! Amen. XD

Chapter Twelve

(Fin's POV)

"DON'T YOU EVER BRING HIM UP CARL GRIMES! EVER!"

"I'm Sorry! Fin!"

Carl lets the Walkie go, practically throws it down on the bed scrambling after me, but he's a lot slower…I don't make it far so he catches up in a few seconds.

He stands a few feet away in the hallway just watching me sob, hands pressed over my knees bent double unable to straighten up; or catch my breath…

I don't think he's ever seen me cry; when I finally look at him his face is pale and stricken.

"I am so sorry, Fin I didn't mean anything by it…I'm sorry."

I know he didn't mean anything; and I also know I shouldn't have screamed at him; I'm pretty sure he was still holding the button down too; I probably just sent Mika into hysterics…God what the hell is wrong with me lately?!

I feel like an emotional yo-yo. I scrub at my eyes, wiping my nose suddenly very tired again. Maybe I'm depressed…I can't stop sleeping…depressed people sleep a lot.

I mean it's normal to be depressed at least to some degree after something like this right? I press my back against the wall under one of the observation windows into a now empty dark room. My feet slide out and I let my back slide down the wall until my butt hits the cool linoleum floor. My skin instantly cold the thin scrub pants offering almost no protection from even something as simple as a cold surface. Too bad my other clothes were kind of destroyed the day I saved Carl…they were a bloody torn mess…just like his.

I glance up at his green hospital scrub clad legs. My lips twitch up. "You look like Doogie Howser."

Carl squints down at me.

Right, I forget he's 14 sometimes, that's definitely before his time. "We have to work on your movie/pop culture education; there are too many great references that go right over your head."

"Is that really important these days?"

I frown up at him, "Hell yes if you don't know who Chewbacca is it takes the sting out of making fun of your haircut…" I stare at him "or you know…lack of one…"

Carl makes a show of tossing his bangs to the side even though the movement obviously pulls at his still raw neck under the gauze wrap he covers the grimace well. "Did I forget to tell you? I'm working on being a teen heart throb."

I snort rub at my eyes with one hand. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

He shrugs. "That's what big sisters are for right?"

Hell yes. He offers me a hand up instead I pull him down to sit next to me on the floor. We stare over the nurse's desk at the broken clock on the wall for a few quiet moments.

"We're not going back are we?" Carl pushes a loose paper across the floor with his bare foot; sends the single yellow back copy of some hand written order long since faded flying across the hall floor to stop against the desk across from us.

"I don't think we can. Mika might accept what I can do without question; without fear…but she's a child. Adults tend to react less 'oh ah' and more 'kill the monster'!"

"Get the pitchforks, gather the villagers?" Carl intones.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"I think you're misjudging my Dad." He looks serious again. Frowns down at his bare feet. "There's nothing more important to him or…" he stops gaze flicking to me for a split second. "There's nothing more important to them then family."

"My mom left me," Carl stares at me. "It was in the very beginning of all this; she took my little brother, and my step dad and they left me behind—I'd been bitten and all they kept saying on the news was to avoid anyone who had been infected; don't let them touch you…My mom jerked away from me like just my touch would kill her…" I swallow, my throat too thick…I clear it.

"I'm sorry." We stare at the tile floor.

I find I need to say; I need him to understand.

"When Abby found out, she wasn't afraid of me; by then It had been a few weeks; I was mostly healed. Abby saw what I could do; I was trying to save her…and she saw them ignore me to go for her. She resented me, hated me…we'd only been together for two weeks but she was all I had…and we got into a fight; she ran and I tried to find her…but they found her first…she died because she got mad at me and left to find her own way…"

Carl still doesn't speak.

"I found this other group after that, and I hid what I was; I hid it for a while. I did a good job of pretending I was just like everyone else; terrified of the monsters; I was terrified…I was terrified they'd show up and everyone would find out what I was…and then one day they did; one of them bit me while I was trying to save Kelly and they all saw this Walker just stop and start to convulse and fall down…and then I thought they were going to shoot me… but they didn't they tied me up instead; forced me to go on runs with them; they weren't nice about it…Thomas…he was the one that found me originally brought me into the group; it was his daughter Kelly I was trying to save…he let me go one night; cut me loose…told me to run…"

"What happened to him?"

"They killed him, I found him two days later tied up with the same ropes they'd been using on me; he let me go and they killed him for it."

"Those people were all dicks." Carl tells me firmly.

I could almost laugh; except it isn't funny; not really. It's incredibly sad what people do to each other.

"Hey, I get it," Carl stares at me expression reminding me of Rick suddenly. "You have every reason to be cautious…I understand being worried about what they're going to say; but you're crazy if you think my Dad or Daryl…"

"Carl."

"No! Listen to me! There is no way that either of them would ever treat you like that! What you can do is amazing! Okay? You're like a superhero or something!"

I roll my eyes. I don't feel like a super hero; I feel tired.

"Just can we give them a chance? Please…Finny…we don't even have to meet in person; just pick up the walkie and talk to them…or I'll do it…just try…do it for me; do it for yourself; because you can't tell me you don't miss them too!"

"I miss them." The back of my head thumps against the wall behind our backs while I stare up at the ceiling.

"Can we please, just try?"

I stare blindly up at the ceiling. Trying to imagine which is worse; Imagining what Daryl might say to me if he had the chance and never knowing for sure; or the possibility of hearing the same words I dread from him and knowing without a doubt that he hates me; wants nothing to do with; regrets every moment we ever spent together…

Would it be better to know?

Or would losing the last tiny flicker of hope I'm clinging to desperately inside finally push me over the edge?

"Finny?" Carl is staring at me.

"I'll think about it, but let's just be careful okay; I also know your Dad and…everyone else are very smart. If we start giving them anything; they could use it to find out where we are… if they did mean to hurt us…"

Carl cuts me off. "They won't, they would never. You'll see. We'll talk to them tomorrow night;" he takes in my expression. "or I'll talk to them; you don't even have to be in the room if you don't want…just let me try Fin. You fixed me, let me fix you."

"I'm not broken."

Carl stares at me those blue eyes exactly identical to Rick's 'Bullshit' expression.

And yeah, okay.

Maybe I am.

:: Walking Dead ::