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BabySlothXYaoi- Thanks for the corrections, I can be blind sometimes! The bible verse is lifted from an episode, Gabriel quotes it to Deanna to explain how everyone from Rick's group is pretending to be good and can't be trusted. I do plan for Gabe to be a much bigger part, way later in the story, but who knows, he might get some big parts here and there before that. Carol and Rhys being uncomfortable around each other is my favourite part of writing this sometimes (sorry Carl!). I do love Yoshi, always picked Dry Bones myself, though! I loved writing that last scene, always hard to write those scenes but that one felt like the right amount of emotional for it being their first time. Thanks for reading!

I can hear the rain beating the glass pane of my bedroom window. It's heavier now. The storm Mikey mentioned has situated itself above Alexandria, turning the community into a snow globe, only thunder and downpour replacing those gentle white flecks.

I'd forgotten about Carl's fear of thunderstorms, the last one feeling like such a distant memory. But now, as we lie tangled together in my bed, our clothes scattered around the room, I talk to him, calming his nerves.

"Tell me about this one again," I request from him, my head rested on his upper arm as I thumb at the healed bullet wound in his side.

Carl lies with his hands behind his head, focusing on the story, blocking out the booming thunder striking out above us every few minutes.

"It was this deer," he starts, staring at the ceiling as he recalls the story I've made him tell so many times before because I like the way he tells it. "I was in the woods with my Dad and his best friend Shane, and we were looking for Sophia. I knew they didn't think we'd find her... but I did." Carl looks at me out of the corner of his eye, smirking at how I'm watching him, my arm across his chest as he talks, rising and falling with his breathing.

"Anyway," he goes on, "this deer came out of nowhere. It was so quiet." Carl whispers the word quiet, and it binds me to the story. Gripping me to a tale that I already know backwards. "I don't know why, but I jus' wanted to touch it. I wanted to reach out and pet it. It was so beautiful and so calm, and so... ah, what's that word?"

Carl turns his head to look at me, our faces inches apart, his head slightly higher than mine.

"What word?" I hum up at him.

"The one you used when talking to Enid the other day about being outside the walls."

"quintessence?"

"Yeah," Carl nods, his nose bumping my forehead. "That's what this deer was. It was so pure and in the moment... like it was the forest. Like it was the forest's way of telling us that we would find Sophia."

Carl traces a lone finger along my collar bone, reaching my far shoulder, where a faded, small, round scar lies. "This one?"

"That's from before," I tell him.

Carl keeps his fingers against the scar, pressing on it.

"I was at my friend's house, and his little brother, Flint, had this BB gun," I snicker, covering my mouth with my hand as I think back to the details of the story, shaking my head. "Sean... um, his older brother... my friend- he could be such an asshole to Flint, and one day he said something to him, I don't even remember what. Flint just had enough, grabbed his BB gun and shot it at his big brother."

Carl is laughing now, softly. "Wait," he chuckles, "how did you get the scar?"

I can't stop giggling into my hand, trying to get words out. "Flint- he wasn't- he wasn't a good shot."

We both lie there, grinning and giggling at the images conjured by the story.

"Fuck," I sigh once we both return to normal. "I miss him."

"Sean?" Carl asks.

"No... well... yeah, I guess. But I meant Flint," I hug Carl's middle, squeezing gently. "I hope he made it."

"Me too," Carl agrees.

Another crack of thunder makes Carl jump. An eruption of light outside the draped window lights up the dim room for a moment, returning us to the more humble light of the clouded sun after.

Once Carl calms down, I get up, scanning around the room for clothes, managing to dress below the waist after a few seconds of searching, not certain whose clothes I put on. I check Ron's watch.

"We've got babysitting in an hour," I tell Carl, who's hugging my pillow and staring at the window, scared the thunder might rumble its way into 99. He nods, not taking his eyes off the window.

I open the curtains, letting more light into the room, "Tara said she'll take over once they get back from the run. I thought maybe you, me, and Noah could go play pool next door once she does?" Carl breaks his gaze away from the window, still nodding as he stares at me with wide-open eyes.

I keep talking, hoping that Carl doesn't realise that I'm trying to distract him from his anxieties, pretty sure that it's working because his shoulders drop a little. I tell him, "I got the key for 105 from Mikey earlier, so we can go over the road, play some pool or snooker, eat some of your endless chocolate supply. Maybe you could bring your birthday mix? Pretty sure I put some Bowie on there. Noah loves Bowie."

Carl's relaxed now. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"brilliant," I move to the bed, kissing him. "I think we need a shower."

Once we've showered and changed, we move downstairs, sitting on the couch. Carl's jotting something down in a small notebook that Mikey had given him as a second, late birthday present. I finally finish War and Peace, my legs pulled to my chest after I put it down.

The thunder gets louder as the hour passes, Carl seemingly getting less afraid of it with each crack that crashes. That, or he's just too enthralled in his writing to care. My book is finished, so I just start picking away at my guitar, trying to make up a song in my head.

"Is it sad?" Carl asks me over his scratchings when I start humming the song out loud.

I ponder over that question for a few seconds, not sure I know the answer yet, but I guess I do because I shake my head. "No. I think it's more reflective, maybe? I don't know yet."

"How do you hear it," Carl flattens his notebook to his chest.

I hum it to him, the tune off as I try and play the guitar with it. "Clockwork under your skin... something something... finish the drops from my glass of gin... uh, something about a taxi... take me for a swim where the light grows dim, oh, you can sing your hymn, and let my clockwork skin feel again."

Carl's resting his head against his fist, listening to my off-tune singing.

"What were you writing?" I ask him before he can give his thoughts on it.

"The storm," Carl hums. "Jus' how it made me feel," he pauses, "and how you made me feel the opposite."

I grin a stupid grin, and Carl laughs at me for it.

"Can I hear it?"

Carl lifts his notebook up, scanning the page with his eyes, clearing his throat. "Like the strings of his guitar, I'm drawn taut. Uprooted from my place of rest, only to be brought back home. The journey away is normally painful, but the trip back is always music."

You wrote that?" I ask, still grinning.

"It sucks," Carl shuts the book, flicking his feet off the floor and onto my lap, "It's jus' an idea. I'll get it there... or... somewhere."

"Sounds perfect to me," I shake my head. "Didn't know you've been writing poetry."

"It's not," Carl snaps, like what I said was an insult, despite me meaning for it to be the opposite. "It's jus' words."

"Nice words," I correct him.

"That reminds me," Carl changes the subject, clearly embarrassed. "I still need to teach you to swim."

"What reminded you of that?" I tilt my head, not sure what words have to do with swimming.

"Your song," he points at my guitar, then he looks suspicious, his eyebrows knitting together. "Don't change the subject. I will teach you."

"Uh-huh..."

"Ron said they swim in the lake in the summer," Carl tries. "It's in the walls, so it's safe."

I snort, shaking my head franticly, "What, so everyone here can see me drown? Nope, not happening."

Carl lies his head back on the sofa's arm, "fine," he shrugs, "be stubborn."

Rolling my eyes, "Fine, maybe."

Carl lifts his head back up, glowing, "Really?"

"Maybe," I tell him, "I said maybe."

"Okay," Carl nods at me coolly, "I can live with maybe."

I check my wrist, realising the time. I nudge Carl's face with my sock wearing foot, his attention already back in his book.

"We're swapping out with Carol in ten," I tell him, tapping a finger against my watch's glass window. "We should probably head next door."

I can tell he's almost forgotten about our babysitting job after today.

"Yep," Carl shuts the notebook before heading to the door and slipping on one of Glenn's oversized raincoats.

"Just gotta get my coat from upstairs," I tell him, getting up and climbing the stairs. "Meet you in 101?"

Carl nods, opening the door and running into the rain. The wind, whistling through the house and slamming the door shut behind him.

I trot up the stairs, reaching my room and grabbing the sleeveless jacket from my barren wardrobe, pulling the extra layer on. After being in the fresh air of the living room, I realise how stuffy this room is. Moving to the window, I crack it open, peering out onto the community.

I'm taken aback by what I see.

Over the neat rooftops and parked near the lakeside, I see the top of a red painted eagle.

The run truck is back.

A/N

The talking about scars bit was shamelessly inspired by The Last Of Us. I love Dina and Ellie... What can I say?

Thoughts and Reviews are always welcome!

:)