Carl watched as Arlet pulled the gun away from his face.

The look she was giving him happened to be very confusing to the teen, but he eventually shrugged it off. "So, you're not here to kill me?"

Carl shook his head and smiled softly. "No. I'm not here to kill you. I'm here because I'm looking for my dad."

"You said he's missing. Do you know where he might've gone?" Arlet asked.

Desperate sadness seemed to well up from inside him. Carl shook his head once again.

Arlet sighed and gave a deep wince. "Oh f-fuck."

"You alright?" Carl asked with concern. He tried to get a good look at the girl's back, but she pushed him away.

"Don't even think about touching me!"

"Wha? I-I'm just trying to help." He breathed, taking a step back. "I know a little about first aid. If you'd let me, I can patch you up."

Dangerous brown eyes met cool blue ones in a battle of glares. Carl could see the utter pain she was in, but knew that badgering her about it wouldn't achieve anything.

"No. I'll do it myself."

Arlet shakily stood, her legs quivering. The teen couldn't see any visible injuries except for a few minor bruises. Everyone had a couple of those.

She tried to walk away but doubled over in pain. All Carl could do was watch helplessly as she clung to the bedpost for dear life.

"Where are you hurt?" He asked once again. "Tell me so I can help you."

The girl continued to writhe in pain but eventually pushed up her shirt so he could see the injury. It was located on her sensitive lower back, so it was no surprise she was freaking out. Arlet cursed deeply before uttering a sincere warning.

"If you try anything..."

"I won't." He said, grabbing some medical supplies from his own bag. He knew he should keep it for himself but the girl needed it more than him. "I promise."

Carl pulled away the bloody bandages and winced at the cut. It wasn't deep, but it was longer than he'd expected. It looked like someone had dragged a knife over her back while she was squirming around. More than likely, that's what happened.

After cleaning and dressing the wound, Carl stepped back. He took a good look at Arlet who was half-standing half-sitting on the bed with her shirt rolled up. A stray tear of pain rolled down her cheek and she suddenly relaxed. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." The teen said, putting away what was left of his first aid.

Arlet breathed deeply, glancing out the dark window. There was no way Carl would be able to go back to get his other supplies and check for his father again. He'd have to stay with Arlet. There was no other way around it.

"You're thinking about staying here. Aren't you?" Arlet asked, curling up under her comforter. It looked so soft. The teen wondered how warm it felt underneath the blanket, since the room felt extremely cold.

"Yeah." He swayed, feeling his tired legs twinge from overuse. "You don't mind do you?"

Carl watched as the girl seemed to mull it over in her head. "I'll let you stay if you cover up the window and get me some food from my pack. I don't feel like getting up."

He noticed the dark colored knapsack earlier but thought nothing of it since had an even better idea than just letting her have stale old food.

"Alright."

Carl searched through house and found a couple dingy blankets that made wonderful blinds. They blocked out almost all light, and the teen felt somewhat satisfied. "What would you like me to get for you?"

"I don't know. Probably the beef jerky." Arlet replied sitting up in the now dimly lit room. The teen just laughed at her request. "What's so funny?" She asked.

"Now, this might sound crazy, but I have chocolate pudding. I'll trade you it for the jerky."

Arlet nodded and immediately took Carl's offer. He knew it had probably been a good while since she'd had anything sweet.

"Can I stay now?"

"Yeah."

The teen just snickered and watched as she practically shoveled the treat into her mouth. He couldn't help but find it slightly amusing yet also gross.

"Uh, you're not sleeping with me." She added with a look of disgust. "Just letting you know."

"I kinda figured that out already." He admitted, licking his lips of the salty snack he'd just finished. "I found a cot downstairs. I'll bring it up in a minute."

"Don't make too much noise. They'll hear."

"You mean the walkers?" Carl whispered. "Yeah, I know."

A few minutes later, the teen had set up a makeshift bed. It wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, but it would do for the night.

"Can I please have my knife back?"

"No."

"Why?"

Carl obviously knew why, but he hated being defenseless. He figured Arlet wouldn't try to kill him since she had no real reason to. Then again, you couldn't trust anyone anymore.

She already made that quite clear.

"You might try to kill me." She scoffed. "I don't want to die because you don't trust me."

"Yeah, same here." Carl replied. "Except I can't protect myself."

"Touche, Cowboy."

She tossed the weapon at him and he caught it easily. With a smirk, the teen slipped it into his belt loop which made for a great sheath.

"If you wanna thank me, please don't stab me while I sleep." Arlet mumbled, laying her head on her pillow.

"By the way, it's a Sheriff's hat. Not a cowboy hat."

Arlet mumbled something under her breath which kind of hurt Carl's pride. "Whatever."

He was so used to hearing people say "Cool" or asking "How'd you get it?" which he would always reply with "My dad gave it to me".

It was weird having someone not care for once. Then he had to remind himself he was on his own and Arlet wasn't his friend. That made him curl up a breathe softly, a few tears burning the corner of his eyes.

No crying. No crying. NO CRYING.

He bit his lip hard, took his hat off, and cuddled up against it. Now the old, worn thing, was the last memento of his father.

At that second, the teen vowed to find Rick Grimes even if it killed him.

The next morning Carl was given an extremely rude awakening. One leg had been swept out from underneath the cot, which spilled him onto the cold hardwood floor.

"Fuck." He muttered, scrambling to his feet.

"We've got a serious problem." Arlet whispered, poking his chest.

"Wha-"

Arlet cupped a hand around his mouth and motioned for him to be quiet. Carl flushed and pulled her fingers away from his lips.

"What's wrong?" He stage whispered. This garnered a defiant glare from his temporary companion.

"Take a look for yourself."

She slowly undid the corner flap of Carl's blanket blinds. With one glance he realized exactly what she was talking about.

Down the crumbling asphalt road, in the house Carl had previously occupied, he saw movement and a flash of metal.

Shit.

Carl knew that couldn't be a walker. That was a man with a gun.

A second later, a huge group of armed men filed out of the house. He recognized the extra holster that belonged to him, being held by the obvious ringleader. They knew someone was close and were probably going to search for them.

"We need to get out of here." He breathed, feeling his heart pound. "They're gonna try to raid every house and then they're gonna find us."

"I already figured that out, Dummy." Arlet said in exasperation. "I don't know what you're gonna do, but I'm leaving."

He watched as the girl picked up her knapsack and stepped casually across the floor. Before she could unlock the door, Carl called after her.

"You're just gonna leave me behind?"

"Carl, you seem alright." Arlet admitted. "The thing is, I like being alone. You can follow me if you want, but I'm not stopping for you."

The teen gave a soft smirk and swung his canvas bag over his shoulder. "Okay. Let's go."

As much as Carl hated going with a stranger, but he didn't see much of a choice. If those men found either of them, there was no telling what they'd do.

At least Arlet seemed prepared. That was something he wasn't at the moment.

"Hurry your ass up then." Arlet cursed. "I don't have all day."