Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead
Here's chapter 2. Rick has just woken up in his own son's body. What'll he do now? And what about Carl?
Chapter 2: "What Happened to Us?"
Rick stumbled backwards in shock, unable to grasp it; unable to believe that he had somehow transformed into his own son. His breathing was coming in gasps as he continued to stare at his reflection from a distance.
"Carl." If he needed any more confirmation that he wasn't himself, it came from hearing his voice, which was that of his son's. "Carl…Car…C..c…"
His heart was racing.
He couldn't think properly.
He whirled about for some explanation for why this was happening, but all he saw was a walker pacing not too far away. Rick looked down at himself again, then stumbled around behind the car. He was not used to moving in a body so different from his own.
When the driver's side of the car came into view, he froze. It was an out-of-body experience as he stared at his real body slumped forward over the steering wheel. Rick couldn't stop staring as he feared the worst.
Maybe he was actually dead. Maybe instead of passing on like his wife, someone or something decided to stick him in his son's body as a way to live on. Rick stumbled back again feeling light-headed. If that was the case, then that meant that Carl was dead. His son was dead, and now he would be forced to live the rest of his life as his own offspring which was very unsettling.
But then a new thought occurred to him. Maybe he hadn't died. Maybe Carl was occupying his body.
As much as he was disturbed by the idea, he hoped it was the case.
He hurried over and wrenched the car door open. He experienced a moment's hesitation before he grabbed his own shoulder and pushed his body back against the seat. Rick took a brief moment to stare at the dead look on his face before he started shaking his shoulder.
"Carl! Carl! Wake up! Wake Up!" He cried, while feeling foolish and terrified of the thought of his son being in his body. "Please…Carl."
A familiar raspy growl caught his attention. It was coming from the lone walker who had taken notice of him and was heading his way.
"Carl," Rick gasped while he continued to shake the limp body.
He looked at the walker who was getting close, growling and ready to reach out for him. For the first time in a long time, Rick felt powerless. Here he was in an eleven year old's body. He barely registered the fact that Carl had been capable of handling walkers at this stage.
He looked at the limp body of himself, wanting it to spring up and take care of the walker for him whether it was Carl or not, while he continued to try and grasp the current supernatural phenomenon.
"Carl," he cried one last time, before he realized he wasn't coming. The walker was merely three feet away and closing in quickly, mouth opened ready to bite.
With the start of tears in his eyes, Rick turned away from the walker and released his grip on his own shoulder. He pulled the gun from the holster on his dead body and took aim just as the walker lunged.
The shot rang out and the walker fell at his feet. Rick was shaking now, feeling lost and utterly alone. He wondered why he couldn't have just ended up as that corpse rather than in the state he was in. He didn't know whether it was vulnerability or terror that had him at the point of choking back the urge to cry.
Then a new sound stole his attention. He turned sharply as he witnessed his own body stir and moan. He jumped back and raised the gun on himself, certain it had turned. The surreal-ness of it all was overwhelming. All he wanted was to wake up from this horrible nightmare.
The gun trembled in his hand. He did not want to do this. He could not. But then the body groaned and vocalized a single word.
"Dad."
Rick gasped and dropped the gun as his body started to come to life. It was the most fascinating and frightening thing he had ever seen. He stood like a statue, watching as his own hand reached up to his forehead. Without really looking, he moved a leg outside of the car and sat still for a moment.
Rick did nothing to break the moment. He was simply far too stunned. But when nothing happened for a while, be broke it quietly.
"Carl?"
And Rick forced himself not to step back as his own eyes settled upon him, widening in shock.
Carl's head was pounding. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so out of it. He ran a hand across his brow and turned in his seat, unaware of where he was, and not exactly caring at the moment.
He had unconsciously called out to his dad a moment ago, but somehow the action left him feeling dizzier. So he had to stop for a bit.
He didn't know what it was, but in-between the dazed feeling he was having, he felt something was very wrong. Something, somehow, was unnatural amongst the pain and the headache. And then he heard his own voice call his name. And there he stood—himself, gazing at himself in a mixture of horror, relief, and confusion.
He was at a loss for words.
He watched as the hallucination or impostor raised his hands as if in surrender.
"Carl," it said, "it's..it's okay…just…"
Carl didn't know what was going on. The only thing his mind registered was, 'Get the hell away from that thing!'
He quickly and shakily got to his feet, momentarily forgetting he was in a car. He slipped alongside it and fell to the ground.
"Carl, it's…"
But his attention wasn't on the figure anymore. Carl's gaze had fallen to his arms. A shock of panic struck him as he moved his gaze further down his body and noticed it looked an awful lot like his dad's.
"What the hell…what the hell!" He cried, while noticing for the first time that he even had his dad's voice. In his terror, he tried to jump back, forgetting he was on the ground and forgetting he was already against the car.
"Carl," Rick continued as he attempted to close the space between them.
"Get away from me!" he shouted.
"It's me, okay, it's me…it's dad." Carl stared at him, disbelievingly. "It's me…it's me."
"D-dad?"
Rick swallowed hard and nodded slowly. And for a moment they simply stared back at each other.
"D-dad…" Carl glanced down at himself then looked up at his own body, occupied by his father. "What happened? What happened to us?"
Rick moved forward slowly and dropped to his knees before his son, feeling sick and still very frightened.
"I…I don't know Carl…I don't know."
They resolved to stay still, staring at each other, as if waiting for the answer to suddenly appear.
I think I read that Carl was 13 during the prison stuff, but I wanted him younger, so like eleven maybe going on twelve. So now they're both aware of what's happened, and they'll have to figure out what to do next.