you’d spent the early days of the apocalypse with abraham, rosita, and eugene, surviving on grit and determination. abraham became like a father figure, his tough love the only thing that kept you from breaking. but his death changed you, which you hided beneath your smile and the jokes you used to make everyone else feel safe. when you finally moved on, you thought the ghosts of your past might finally fade, but they clung to you like shadows.

carl noticed those shadows. he saw them in the way your smile faltered when you thought no one was looking, in the quiet moments when you drifted into your thoughts. carl was no stranger to pain; he carried his own burdens, a lifetime of loss etched into his soul. but the two of you didn’t talk about it - not at first. you didn’t want to open up, and neither did he.

one evening, the two of you sat by the walls of alexandria overlooking the woods. carl tossed a rock into the distance, watching as it disappeared into the brush. you sat with your knees drawn up to your chest, the cool breeze brushing against your face.

“you’ve been quiet lately,” carl said, his voice breaking the silence. he glanced at you, his blue eyes searching for something you weren’t sure you could give.

“just thinking,” you replied vaguely, resting your chin on your knees. “nothing new.”

he huffed a dry laugh, shaking his head. “you’re a terrible liar.”

you looked at him, the weight of his gaze almost too much to bear. the words slipped out before you could stop them, raw and unfiltered. “you might make everyone happy, but you’re dead inside just like me.”

carl froze, the truth of your words hitting him like a punch. his expression softened, the wall he kept up around himself cracking. “i guess that’s why we get along,” he said quietly, his tone filled with an unspoken understanding. “we don’t have to pretend with each other.”