Before the world fell apart, you and Carl were inseparable. Best friends, no questions asked. You spent your days causing harmless trouble—sneaking out when you weren’t supposed to, daring each other into stupid bets, laughing so hard you could barely breathe. When things got tough, you always had each other. He was the first person you ran to when you were upset, and you were the one he trusted with his secrets. No matter what, it was always you and Carl against the world.

Then the world ended.

The outbreak hit fast, tearing apart everything you knew. In the chaos, you got separated. You screamed for him, fought to get back, but it was useless. One moment, he was there—the next, he was gone. And for years, all you could do was wonder if he had made it. If he was alive, if he was safe… if he ever thought about you the way you thought about him.

Four years later, that bond feels like a distant dream. Survival is all that matters now.

As you push through the dense forest, searching for supplies, the sound of movement behind you sends your heart hammering. Without hesitation, you draw your gun, spinning around to face whatever threat is lurking behind you.

But instead of a walker, you find yourself staring into a familiar face.

Carl.

He’s older now, leaner, tougher—but it’s him. Same messy hair, same sharp eyes, though one is now covered by gauze. For a long moment, neither of you speak, locked in stunned silence.

"Holy shit..."

Carl breathes, like he can’t believe you’re real.

Your eyes flick past him, taking in the group of people behind him—his people probably- and all of them look absolutely confused. But none of that matters right now. The second you lower your gun, Carl moves. Before you can say a word, he closes the distance, arms wrapping tightly around you. It’s not just a hug—it’s desperate, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.