#it's probably some kind of bullshit brain thing to help us defend our own sense of self or something similar

[quinloki]

*sigh*

A lot of y'all gotta stop treating groups of people like some kind of homogeneous hive mind collective, and not a series of independent and wildly different people who just happen to have one or two things in common.

[internalsealpanic]

Cosmonauts

Summary: You always call Tim space related nicknames. No one knows why.

A/n: This is technically a follow up to Art Gallery Smile but it can be read on its own. This was posted on mobile so Idk how bad it got formatted. Will edit when I get to my laptop.

Warnings: mentions of panic attack and anxiety. No graphic detail but just in case. (Yes, I gave Tim anxiety. Fight me.)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

“IT WAS ZOMBIE ADJACENT,” Roz protests, shoving another one of Tim’s fries into her gaping maw in a vain attempt to stop the petulant pout retching its way to her lips. You roll your eyes hard enough that your entire head follows along with their movement, taking a nibble of your own fries. Roz scowls, mouth twitching the way yours does (4 times to the left and 4 and a half times to the right) it was honestly the only way to tell that you two were related in any shape or form. 

“It wasn’t even close, you deep-fried stick of margarine,”

“It shambled, didn’t it?”

 

“So does Space Case over here when you don’t funnel enough caffeine into his system, what’s your point?” You bite out leaning back, slinging your arm over the back of the bench and over Tim’s shoulder making his breath hitch. Tim can feel his skin heat up. For once, he’s thankful for just how much Roz hordes your attention.  He’s starting to run out of excuses for the color of his cheeks. Not that you ever fell for any of it from the way you hummed every time he stammered out his excuse. 

 

Based on the way your hand flexes and not so subtly moves away, you noticed his flush but made no comment. Instead, you grin- all sharp teeth and cocksure and smug bastard- leveling your older cousin a look which roughly translated to ‘Checkmate, motherfucker’. Despite his apprehension, Tim can’t help the smile that twitched on to his lips. Your eyes flickered to him. It might just be his imagination but Tim was pretty sure he saw fondness chip away at your smug grin. Tim kind of wants to lean into your arm but instead, he leans forward pretending to pay attention hiding his smile in his hands. His face is gonna get tired from smiling too much around you. 

"It wasn't even close,"

"It was freaky looking,"

"Damn woman, you're being real judgy there,"

“Back me up here Duckie!” Roz screeches, shoulders hiking up making her look like a frazzled cat about to hiss pulling Tim away from his reverie. You roll your eyes all the way to the back of your head while Steph just snorts. Tim sighs. None of you have stopped calling him ‘Duckie’ or ‘Ducktective’ after that stint of being ‘Drake’.  Admittedly, it wasn’t his best idea but you didn’t have to laugh that hard and slap your knee. When you were done laughing, you vehemently protested the name change by wearing your precious, well-kept, one of a kind Red Robin hoodie for the duration of the ‘Drake’ thing. You had said it was to bring him back to his senses (sense of fashion).  Maybe you just wanted to fluster him. He certainly couldn’t put it past you. It worked. Oh, it definitely worked. Now, all he could think about was how nice you looked in his colors which inevitably lead him to think about how nice you would look in his shirts, in his clothes- Damn it. He’s doing it again. 

Roz clears her throat. It is loud and rough and it makes all of you wince despite the already loud atmosphere of the cafeteria. Really what does Roz expect him to say? One, Tim wasn’t fully paying attention. How could he when you two are smooshed together on a cramped cafeteria bench with you still wearing your Red Robin hoodie? Tim’s surprised he isn’t keeling over. Two- 

 

“See! Even our darling-” Tim’s brain short circuits. “Space Cadet can’t even defend your bullshit,” you laugh reaching over to Roz’s drink leaning a little too close to Tim’s face. He can almost feel the heat radiating off your skin. 

 

If I lean in just a little more, I could probably…

 

“It isn’t bullshit!”

 

“You’re right! Bullshit has more substance-”

 

“Sooooo, what’s with all the space nicknames for Tim? When do I get one?” Steph asks casually, popping another of Tim’s fries into her mouth. 

 

Has he even eaten any of his fries? It’s almost gone and he’s eaten at most one.

 

You choke making a pained noise, likely due to said carbonated drink going into your nostrils (and possibly your lungs), as you turn away. Your neck visibly red from where Tim is sitting. Based on the sparkle in Steph’s eyes, she can see it too. A manic grin spreads on Roz’s face wide enough that Tim legitimately worries that it’ll split her face wide open. A shrill sort of giggle escapes her which has you whipping your head to her direction to scowl at her. It does absolutely nothing to deter the sheer glee on her face as she sneers back to you. Some secret conversation passes between the two of you. Tim and Steph watch in slow motion as mortification creeps on to your face. 

 

Suddenly (not really), Tim’s thankful that his only sister is practically a saint. At least compared to the horror that is Roz. 

 

Actually, now that he thinks about it, you have a plethora of space-themed nicknames for him when you aren’t busy calling him whatever endearingly aggravating name Steph came up with that week. 

 

Cosmo

 

Space Case

 

Space Nuts

 

Rocket Man

Martian Manhunter

 

ET

 

Marvin (the Martian)

 

And your favorite, Cosmonaut.

 

At first, he figures it was because of his obsession love for Star Wars and Star Trek but no, that couldn’t be it since you had started calling him that long before you two ended up marathoning the entirety of Star Trek instead of working on your project. He can still remember just how engrossed you looked while watching as you hugged your knees to your chest leaning forward as you waited for the next episode to start up with bated breath. Your features highlighted by the glow of the laptop screen making it very easy for Tim to memorize the contours and angles of your expression. Yet another moment Tim really wanted to capture with a photo. You even did your mouth twitch thing without noticing.

 

 He really wanted to just keep an entire album of all the different expressions you made. Wait. That sounds weird. Does it sound weird? It probably does.

 

 Then again, maybe you called him those because of just how much of a weirdo he was. He couldn’t blame you if you did. But he found that highly unlikely. Sure, you can be mean at times (a lot of times) but you were too oblique for that. Years in customer service made sure of that. Your jabs were usually of the subtler, more needling variety. The type that makes you pause for too long.  Plus, you said every nickname with a fondness that made his heart skip a beat. It was like when you called Roz or Steph ‘Fucker’. Maybe a little warmer. Or he could just be imagining that. Probably. Hopefully not. It was hard to get the honey-sweet way you said them out of his head.

 

Maybe they were just jabs. Lighthearted one. They could have just had easily been comments on just how much he spaced out. Tim has a tendency to live in his own head and it shows especially when he’s stressed or tired or both. Sometimes he would completely shut down as a result of excess anxiety. He can still remember the number of times he had let his anxieties run rampant letting them drag him away from the moment. His breaths were too quick to back then. He felt like he was gonna faint but then you just smiled at him like you were there for him which as it turned out you were. You gently squeezed each segment of his fingers until his breaths slowed. Even when he did fully calm down, you didn’t relinquish his hand. You held them firmly in your own even as you looked entirely unsure of what to do and what to say. You didn’t whisper the usual ‘you’re ok’ or the classic ‘you’ll be fine’. No, you just sat there with him quietly. Letting his feelings ebb and flow as he needed them to. 

 

Tim really isn’t sure what he did to deserve even knowing someone like you but he would do it again and again if it meant being able to stick close to you. 

 

Roz, ever the agent of chaos, throws a conspiratorial smile around the table like a flail. You look like you’ve been hit by one.

 

“Sorry, Steph. You won’t get one,” she says glancing at you. Steph pouts before she and Tim follow Roz’s gaze expecting you to glower or snarl or get up to deck her. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. You just kind of sit there frozen and mortified with a face that simply says ‘Oh. God. This is happening.’. All you can really do is mouth a ‘fuck you’. This obviously pleases Roz. Say what you will about Roz, but there is abso-fucking-lutely no denying that she is petty as hell when it comes to revenge. Nothing is sacred to this woman. Nothing.

 

“Why’s that?” Steph asks innocently, smiling around her bendy straw also enjoying this rare chance to torment you. 

 

“I’m so glad you asked!” Roz answers her voice twisting into a horrifying facsimile of a daytime talk show host. You peel your arm away from the backrest and place your arms over your head and neck as you do in an earthquake drill bracing for impact. By the way, you were shaking, you’d think there was an actual earthquake. Your reasoning can’t be that stupid. 

 

“My dear Stephanie-” Steph scrunches her nose at the overly sweet tone Roz lathers on her name but makes no move to interrupt. “(y/n) only uses space-related nicknames for people they think are- and I quote- ‘waaaaaay outta their league’,” You let out a pained groan and Steph’s face unfurls as she lets out the loudest snort, loud enough to draw the attention of several tables around them. 

 

Tim’s mind is still reeling, still trying to process what Roz just said. 

 

Him?

 

Out of your league? 

 

Excuse him, isn’t it the other way around? 

 

What the hell? 

 

“Tim, for the love of Alfred, please unhear that,” you plead wetly, parking your head out just enough for Tim to see just how red your face has gotten. “God, please unhear it or I might just die,” Tim kind of didn’t doubt that you would. Steph somehow laughs even louder at this. Roz, not one to miss pouring salt in the wound, laughs along with her. You look like you wanted to implode out of existence.  You could certainly try but Tim seriously doubts the universe is kind enough to let you escape. 

 

Yeah, Tim’s brain has officially left the building. He’ll be back at 9 o’clock sharp tomorrow. Promise. 

 

“You mean to tell me that-” Steph chokes, unable to control her laughing fit. “-You’re telling me that you’ve been watching them pine for each other for over a year now and you just let them?!” Steph wheezes still holding her stomach.  

 

Roz looks offended and makes a whiny little noise. “Weeeell, technically I offered to wingman-”

 

“YOU WERE GONNA CHARGE ME FIFTY BUCKS,” 

 

“Hey, matchmaking is hard,”

 

“It isn’t worth fifty bucks!”

 

“You’re right! It is worth so much more,”

 

“God, I hate you,” you groan into the table. 

 

“God can’t help you now, kid,”

Tim frowns, mind backtracking to dissect the information. Apparently, his brain decided to clock back in. 

 

They knew. Even Roz ‘I don’t give a shit what you do as long as it doesn’t affect me’ Andrada, noticed. Was he that obvious?

A year? Wait. No. Over a year. They knew about this for over a year. 

Lastly, what do you mean each other?! As in mutual? Mutual pining? 

As if reading his thoughts, you ask “Wait… what do you mean each other?”

 

Roz blinks at you not entirely sure if you’re being funny. When you give her a look, she slumps back in her chair. “I’m related to a dumbass,”

 

“That you are. Speaking of dumbasses-” Steph whips her attention to Tim giving him a shit-eating grin.”-You said you were waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask (y/n) out, right?” Steph waves her hands doing jazz hands as she points at your still dumbstruck figure. She’s smiling as if she was the world’s best wingman at the moment.

 

 Tim suppresses a groan. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured it,”

 

Roz reaches into her pocket and produces a lighter. Grabbing the last of Tim’s fries and lighting it. “There. Mood lighting. Do the thing.”

 

“Ah yes, because surely the scent of burning potatoes is gonna sweep (y/n ) off their feet,”  Tim said flatly crossing his arms. He knows he’s definitely focusing on the wrong thing but as with all things it was easier to procrastinate. This is especially true when you’re afraid of the outcome.   

 

Roz huffs, waving the fry to extinguish it and muttering something about beggars and choosers. “Trust me kid that isn’t hard to do. Besides, did you not hear the part where I quoted (y/n) about you being ‘outta their league’,” You open your mouth to protest but slam it shut when Roz gives you a lopsided grin looking like she had a mountain of dirt on you which she likely did. He was definitely thankful that she has never met his family. He’s pretty sure Gotham wouldn’t survive. 

 

“How could I possibly be out of (y/n)’s league. I- I don’t- I mean- I’m not-”

 

Your body twists his way fast enough that he’s sure you either have whiplash or a twisted spine. Your eyes are set on him glowering as if he’d said something wrong. He’s pretty sure he didn’t although he did have a talent for putting his foot in his mouth. Your jaw is set tight, your teeth almost grind. He could see the tight hitch in your shoulders. He is 100% sure you’re going to deck him. 

 

“Do you want it listed alphabetically or what?”

 

“What?”

 

“Structure it like an argumentative essay. Speak nerd.” Roz instructs, earning her the full force of your glare. Your face pinches even more. Maybe this was the part where you implode. 

 

You suck in a calming breath before turning back to Tim. 

 

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you are a fucking moron, and here’s why:” Taking another breath, you turn to face him fully your cheeks reddening but you press on either from pure unadulterated spite or determination. 

 

“You quite literally co-run a multibillion-dollar corporation. You’ve been doing that since you were seventeen apparently. You know several languages and you are not only fluent but proficient. You’re well versed in an insane amount of fighting styles. You are the smartest dumbass I know-” 

“Preach!” Steph jokes. 

 

“-You can basically operate any machinery I put in front of you. I have no doubt you can Macgyver one up if you fucking wanted. You could hack into any system you want just as a joke. You could probably throw the entire global economy into the toilet just for shits and giggles. Need I go on?”

 

Tim looks at you wide-eyed and speechless. You shrink a little as he continues to gape at you but you keep looking him in the eyes daring him to refute your claims. Really what was there to say? As much as he wants to come up with something witty to snap back at you, his chest is too crowded with warmth from the absolute sincerity of your voice. He knows you didn’t set out to make him fall deeper in love with you but he feels like he’s in free fall with your gravity pulling him downwards. Tim can feel the heat rising to the tips of his ears. 

 

You shrink again, your mouth twitching. “I-” Another calming breath. “I said too much. But my point stands!” The infinitesimal gap he felt between the two of you practically vanished. Still, he could do nothing but stare. Words fail him in the most inopportune moments even when you look so desperate for any kind of response.  You swallow thickly looking like you think you’ve ruined everything when the fact was you haven’t. Quite the opposite really. Tim feels like he could take on the entirety of Gotham’s rogue gallery right now. Still, his brain was drawing a blank. 

 

“Mood,” His brain has short-circuited and is now beyond repair. His palm is in his face before he even sees your reaction. You give him an entire speech about how great he is and all he can say is ‘mood’. Looking over at Steph and seeing her phone on her hands, he can tell she’s already transcribing the events to the group chat. Well, It can’t get any worse. 

 

You giggle snort eyes slamming shut from the force of your laughter. Joy suffuses throughout your tense body, loosening your tense muscles. “Thank you for proving my point,” you say between gasps.  

 

Tim falls victim to the infectious smile spreading on your face. He feels the warmth crowding his chest grow fuzzy. 

 

Now’s your chance.  

 

Tim takes a steadying breath. He rolls his shoulder back to straighten his posture. He waits for you to calm yourself a bit. When you do, he asks as confidently as he can “Are you free this Saturday?”

 

“No,”

 

Oh crap. He knew he screwed up. He feels cold seep into his feet.  

 

You shake your head at his panic. “I work Saturday, ET,”

 

“Oh, I-”

 

“I have all of Sunday off though,” A hum of excitement spreads through his limbs. “Name your time,”

 

“9 AM?”

 

You give him a look roughly translating to ‘You aren’t going to lose sleep over a date, so help me’.

 

“11:30?” He corrects. You smile and hum seemingly making the oxygen in the atmosphere disappear. He finds that he doesn’t mind, not when he feels like he’s floating on zero gravity. 

 

-------------------------------------------------

Bonus: 

 

Steph: Tim’s a dumbass😌🙃

Damian: Thank you for stating the obvious, Brown. 

Step: 🙄 Do you wanna hear about it or not?

Dick: 👀We’re listening…

Steph: (Y/n) made this whole speech about Tim and all Tim could say was 'mood' cycgu9c8ychic8td 5d8fcouv9ygpuv

Jason: F

Duke: F

Cass: F

Babs: F

Dick: F

---------------

Thanks for reading!!!!!

Taglist:

@idkmanicantenglish, @batarella, @batarella-mini, @birdy-bat-writes, @anothertimdrakestan, @founduebitches , @lucy-roo

[dweetwise]

yes hello i am back on my bullshit again, presenting you yet another felix x ace! (also i’m taking the creative liberty to call the ship riconti because it sounds like a cheese or something and i found it funny) anyways, this one is just me thirsting over the oktoberfest skin through ace, ft. some suggestive language but no nsfw!

word count: 2781

Felix X Ace: Clothes make the man

The whole thing starts as an offhand comment.

"—I mean, it's clearly tailored. He pulls it off,” Ace is telling Meg, who has been complaining about Felix's stuffy suit and even stuffier attitude for five minutes straight. “But it's so impractical!” the girl argues. “Wasn't he on some kind of field trip when he was taken? What kind of guy wears a suit to that?” “I don't know, but I'm not going to complain about free eye candy,” Ace smirks, and Meg rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah, I forgot rich snobs are your thing. Sucks you can't scam him for his money in here,” Meg snarks. “Excuse me for having taste,” Ace shoots back. “I wish I had a suit like that. Do you think it's Gucci?” “Burberry,” an increasingly familiar voice answers from behind him and Meg whips her head around to look at its owner, eyes wide in shock at having been caught gossiping. Meanwhile Ace, liking to think he has more self-control, schools his face into a pleasant smile and slowly turns around to face Felix. “Would have been my next guess,” Ace says, trying not to let it show that he's mentally slapping himself for essentially thirsting over Felix when the other was within earshot. “I like the cut. You've got good taste.”

He’s feebly trying to save some of his wounded ego, but probably ends up laying it on too thick. Felix fidgets a little, maybe not used to getting compliments, before he seems to catch himself. He meets Ace's eyes and the hint of a smirk tugs on his lip.

“Wish I could say the same,” Felix says, pointedly looking at Ace's flamingo sweater, before turning around and walking away and leaving Ace to gape at the unexpected sass from the normally serious man. “I take it back, I like him!” Meg snickers beside him.

The Entity seems to share Ace's enthusiasm for Felix's fashion sense, and only a few trials in Felix is already in a different suit, this one a grey plaid.

“Hmm…” Ace pretends to mull over when they're working on a generator together. “Did you see something?” Felix asks, hurriedly glancing over the top of the machine to try, in vain, to spot the killer. “I think the navy blue suits you better,” Ace smirks at his own pun. “Though the plaid certainly makes a statement. Shame that statement is ‘I'm a grandpa at thirty years old’.” “You know, in my job, gold is really only used for trims. Any more than that is just tacky," Felix deadpans, not even sparing a glance at Ace's obnoxiously golden silk outfit. “And it's thirty-eight.”

Ace doesn't bother suppressing his grin over the fact that Felix seems happy to go along with his silly banter.

It becomes sort of an inside joke between them, and when Felix shows up to the campfire in a porn stache and driving gloves, Ace chokes on a laugh.

“I’m sorry, is this an 80's theme party?” Ace jokes. “Careful you don't end up on a propaganda poster with a stache like that.” “Why are you wearing an eye patch?” Felix immediately shoots back. “Is this the 16th century? Should we break out the rum and set sail?”

Ace hears Quentin snort beside him.

“It's a pilot outfit,” Ace argues, pulling his jacket with the pin-up print tighter against himself defensively. “No, mine is a pilot outfit,” Felix deadpans, and Ace can't really argue, not when the other is wearing a bomber jacket and pilot glasses and leather gloves. “Yours is a blind truck driver.”

Bill coughs out something akin to a laugh on the other side of camp and Ace bites his lip to stop himself from doing the same.

“Can I borrow the shades some time?” Ace forfeits the argument, and Felix smiles just the tiniest bit. “Sure.”

And Felix actually follows through with the promise, switching sunglasses with him when Ace later complains his own don’t go with his outfit. It’s a pretty cute gesture, like they were close friends or even a couple, and when Felix snorts and tells him he looks ridiculous it just serves to make Ace smile brighter.

It’s not like the exchange or the ones before it mean anything, it’s just harmless joking with the occasional flirt. Ace still thinks Felix is attractive, but he doesn’t have any illusions that the man would be into him like that, with what having a girlfriend and unborn baby back home, not to mention Ace having a good ten years on him in age. Still, he appreciates that Felix goes along with his cheeky comments, at least not grossed out by or taking offense to Ace’s flirting.

He only gets to keep the shades for one trial, because the Entity has blessed Felix with another outfit for Ace to offer his unsolicited opinion on.

“Oh my god,” Ace comments when he spots the horrendous, grease-streaked mop in place of Felix’s normally expertly styled hair. “Are you a closet hipster? Is an avocado smoothie going to fall out of the hat?” he quips, eyeing the fedora that is, in Ace’s humble opinion, vastly inferior to all of his own hats. “I needed a disguise to lay low for a while, and what better way to hide in plain sight in a big city?” Felix defends his unkempt hair and dirty t-shirt. “What’s your excuse?” he shoots back.

Ace glances down at his generously open shirt—gold again, just to annoy Felix—and tacky sequin pants.

“Vegas, baby,” Ace grins. “If you’d ever been, you’d know.” “I’ve never been happier to say I haven’t,” Felix chuckles. “I don’t think I could handle more of… whatever this is,” he says, gesturing to Ace’s outfit. “When we get out of here, I’m definitely taking you,” Ace quips. “I just want to see you cry over all the flashy satin and fake gold.”

Felix doesn’t roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment like Ace expects. Instead, he stares blankly in confusion for a few seconds, before his expression settles into a smile Ace can’t quite place.

“Alright,” Felix simply says, and combined with the soft smile it’s enough to make Ace nervously look around camp for a distraction. “Hey, Kate!” he hollers, spotting the songstress braiding Meg’s hair. “You got a hairband for our friend and his questionable hair style over there?”

He ends up regretting the question as soon as Kate insists on braiding Felix’s hair and the normally standoffish man, somehow, goes along with it. He can’t believe he’s jealous for someone getting to touch the grimy, unkempt strands, and it sure as hell doesn’t help that Felix seems to like it. Kate looks thrilled to get to spend some quality time with the man, chatting about this and that and taking way longer than necessary to make the hairstyle, and Ace ends up walking away and pestering Dwight to play some cards with him so he can at least win at something.

His win streak over the poor boy is interrupted when Felix later sits down with them, gesturing for Ace to deal him in, and Ace can’t quite hide his pleased grin that Felix would rather spend time with him than the beautiful girl who just played with his hair for half an hour.

“Better?” Felix asks him, turning his head to display the most pathetic French braid Ace has ever seen, ending in a ponytail that’s barely an inch in length. “Much better,” Ace says, definitely referring to the company and not the state of his hair, and even the normally diplomatic Dwight gives him a weird glance over his cards after taking in Kate’s handiwork.

Only a few trials after the incident, Ace has the pleasure of spawning together with Felix in one of the Yamaoka maps. When he sees a horrendous checkered pattern from the corner of his eye, he knows he’s in for a treat.

He quickly turns to face the man, nearly tripping over some shrubbery as the Entity decided to place him in some inconvenient bamboo. He meets Felix's eye, opening his mouth to start a snarky comment, when his thoughts come to a complete halt upon seeing the entirety of the outfit.

“Well? Get it over with,” Felix demands, crossing his arms self-consciously and—lord have mercy—blushing a little.

Ace's brain is reduced to white noise in the equivalent of ‘hhhHhhHHhh’ while he just stands there, feet still in the stupid bamboo, and stares.

Felix's hair is now an impeccable undercut, a few loose strands framing his features beautifully, and the perfectly trimmed stubble adds a rugged charm to his handsome face. The vest is stylish, a navy blue similar to the suit Ace likes, and the checkered shirt shouldn't work with it but it does, and there's even a matching handkerchief in his breast pocket. Ace's horny brain immediately goes to hanky code and shut up brain it's in the wrong pocket—

Ace mentally shakes his head and looks at Felix's pants instead. And that was a bad idea, because he’s wearing fucking. Leather. Pants.

Again, it should look ridiculous, but Ace feels himself start salivating at the idea of them hugging Felix's ass—ugh, focus!

The pants have small ribbons on the sides and the entire ensemble is so goddamn adorable and sexy that he can't even deal. And Ace has seen a lot of handsome men during his life, mostly in the mirror, but right now, Felix takes the cake.

Felix's attitude shifts from embarrassed to curious when Ace isn't immediately opening his big mouth like usual.

“If this is how all Germans dress, it’s a tragedy I’ve never been,” Ace flirts, his dick having taken over his brain and his mouth running on autopilot.

Instead of insulting Ace's panama hat and favorite pink shirt, Felix clears his throat and averts his eyes.

“You don't look too bad yourself,” Felix mutters, cheeks heating up again as he twiddles with the cuff of his shirt.

Ace idly wonders if the bamboo bush is big enough for them to make out in without being spotted—brain, focus! The guy is just being polite, no need to jump his bones!

They've got the usual back-and-forth out of the way, but Felix still isn't moving to start the trial, regarding Ace warily and fidgeting, and he's just so fucking hot—ugh, he needs to say something, doesn't he?

“God, the things I'd let you do to me," Ace thinks while he says ‘We should find a generator’ because he's not going to creep Felix out any further—

Felix chokes on nothing and his face flushes bright red, and Ace belatedly realizes his brain got its wires crossed and he definitely said the first bit out loud. Shit, that was definitely out of line, and if Felix hasn’t been offended before he sure as hell should be now.

There’s a screech from his left and Ace has never been so glad to take a bonesaw to the shoulder as when the Nurse teleports next to him and interrupts their awkward conversation, Ace finally running out of the goddamn shrubbery while clutching his injured shoulder. Strangely enough, the Nurse doesn’t follow him as he runs up to the temple, and soon after he hears Felix yelp instead, the killer chasing him around the shack.

Damn, now he somehow needs to make it up to Felix both to apologize for his foot-in-mouth syndrome and for him taking the Nurse off Ace’s back.

Unfortunately for them, the Nurse isn't playing around this match, and when she returns to tunnel Felix right off the hook, Ace barely even gets the chance to yell out a “Move!” and throw himself in the way of the attack, much less talk to him about what happened earlier.

Soon Ace is walking back into camp, the second to last to have been sacrificed, only Claudette remaining in the trial and trying to find the hatch. He's already prepared an apology, and hopefully he'll be able to joke it off and Felix won't be weirded out by him. Well, at least not more than usual.

But then he spots Felix talking to Dwight by the edge of the camp, and Dwight freezes mid-conversation upon seeing Ace, before his face twists into a—smirk? Since when has Dwight smirked?—and he says something to Felix before taking off, walking over to where Steve and Ash look to be engaged in a game of tic-tac-toe.

Ace doesn't even have time to ponder why Dwight suddenly seems like he knows way too much, because Felix is approaching him and he knows this is a make or break it situation.

“Dwight seemed awfully smug, huh?” Ace jokes to buy himself some time after his carefully crafted apology flies out the window when he sees Felix’s serious expression. “We need to talk,” Felix says, looking and sounding every bit the stern businessman Meg thinks he is. “Yeah, alright,” Ace agrees and tries not to deflate too much upon essentially being shut down before he can even try to make things right.

As he follows Felix out into the woods away from prying eyes, he considers whether it's even worth apologizing if their friendship is done with anyway. He just hopes this won't cause unnecessary drama within the group, the others sure as hell don’t need to get involved.

His train of thought is interrupted when he's suddenly pushed against a tree, letting out a startled yelp that he’ll later vehemently deny. Shit, is Felix going to beat him up?

An arm wrapping around his hip is finally enough to pull Ace out of his racing thoughts, and when he looks up at the man he finally realizes that Felix is definitely not upset with him, and his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline upon seeing the clear bedroom eyes thrown his way.

“Is this not okay?” Felix asks, his dark gaze faltering from insecurity. “Naw, baby, just took me by surprise,” Ace practically purrs, a lazy grin spreading over his face as the familiar confidence returns, his hands running over Felix's shoulders appreciatively. “I thought you were upset with me from before, not that you'd take me up on the offer.” “Well, I—” Felix starts, clearing his throat self-consciously. “I've wanted this for quite some time, and Dwight said you probably wouldn't be opposed, so…”

That's what they were talking about? And Dwight convinced Felix that Ace is down to fuck? Shit, he needs to get the kid a fruit basket or something to thank him.

“He's definitely not wrong,” Ace says, trying for a seductive look but probably ends up leering stupidly from the anticipation instead. But apparently it gets the job done, because Felix pulls him tighter against him and leans in for a kiss.

And okay, wow, apparently he wasn't lying about really wanting this, because there's an urgency in the way he practically devours Ace's mouth, letting out an appreciative groan when Ace parts his lips and encourages him to deepen the kiss.

So maybe he should be worried about Felix's girlfriend or his sudden interest in men or whether he's looking for more than a casual fuck. But Ace has never been good at thinking certain things through and he's not about to start now, not when he has a breathless and flushed Felix pulling away from the kiss and looking at him with lust-blown eyes.

“I've wanted to do that for a long time,” Felix breathes, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a half-smile. “You really should have just asked,” Ace smirks, a little amazed that he managed to miss all the signs, because there’s nothing subtle about the way Felix looks at him now. “I was working up to it,” Felix argues. “But then you started practically eye fucking me—” “I was looking respectfully,” Ace corrects, causing Felix to snort. “You stood in a bush and drooled, and then propositioned me,” Felix points out. “Yeah, and you liked it so much you blushed like a virgin and started flirting and took the killer off of me—which, thanks for that, by the way—” Ace starts. “You're welcome.” “—and… why did I think you were mad at me again?” Ace realizes. “No idea. I thought it was pretty obvious why I dragged you here to ‘talk’,” Felix emphasizes, gaze roaming appreciatively over his body. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Ace encourages, flashing his signature smirk in challenge.

And Ace learns that no matter how much he likes Felix's outfit, getting to help Felix out of it is even better.

[theateared]

It’s Fine.  I Can Wait. ❜

Summary:  Certain things make Moxie a little less angry.

    “You’re being moody again.”

    Since Edgar had returned from hunting, Moxie hadn’t spared him a word.  His place behind the bar was begrudging, back remaining to him as he scrubbed the surface with more force than necessary.  Edgar briefly considered telling him to watch for scratch marks but promptly decided that it didn’t matter.  To hell with it.  People are drunk here anyway.  They’re not going to notice an imperfection that small.

    Still no response, he thought to himself as he watched his packmate busy himself with meaningless tasks.  He flitted around the counter like a fly, cleaning already-washed surfaces, moving things slightly to the side, skirting around tables as if he’d kick up enough dust to warrant wiping them down for a second time.  The Alpha barely held back a chuckle of amusement, tall form hunched over the counter as his cheek nestled into his palm.

    “Moxie.  I know you’re upset,”   he tried again, voice light, almost sing-song, as if it was being carried by a breeze.   “Are you going to speak on your own terms or should I pry until you snap?  Because you will snap.  Like an itty-bitty twig.  Tck!  Just like that.”

    Briefly, his friend’s shoulders squared, though his back remained to him.  Edgar smirked, head tilting against his palm.

    “It’s fine.  I can wait.”

    All at once, the hunter whipped around and flung his rag in the Alpha’s direction. Edgar watched with an aloof smile as the material gathered air, fluttering to the ground some distance away from the counter.  His eyes shifted from the spot it had fallen to Moxie’s face as his hands slammed against the solid oak that formed the bar-top.

    “I’m PISSED OFF, Edgar--”

    “Mhm.”

    “-- this fuckin’ bullshit, livin’ here in Huron--  even if it’s only temporary, I feel like a goddamn CIRCUS ACT!”   Although he was angry, he had the sense not to bare his teeth at the other lye.  The last thing he needed was to provoke his leader.  Quickly, he reared back, before he could make a mistake that he wouldn’t be able to rectify.   “Don’t you feel STUPID?  We’re dancin’ round these motherfuckers like fuckin’--  ballerinas, or some shit!  It’s really gettin’ on my NERVES!”   His arms extended high above his head as if he was about to scream, though all he did was stare at the ceiling for a few seconds before continuing on, leaning close.  His voice dropped to a low, raspy rumble.   “Do you know how many fights I’ve had to not have just to stay doin’ this shitty job that nobody wants to fuckin’ do?  This shit’s embarrassin’, Edgar.  Y’hear me?  Embarrassin’.  We’re fuckin’.  Lyes.  There’s no reason we should be pussy-footin’ like this.”

    “Hm.”   Though he hated to admit it, he harboured some similar frustration.  However, the one thing he had above most of his kind was his brain.  In general, lyes were an aggressive specie; they would rather fight to the death for something than work out an arrangement.  Naturally, a lot of weight fell on an Alpha’s ability to defend their creed members from harm.  The way Edgar saw it, it was better to minimise threats than it was to craft plans to combat them. With less enemies to deal with, the creed’s safety naturally increased.

    Slowly, Edgar stood up straight, turning around and locating an all-too-familiar bottle of whiskey.  He may as well have renamed it at this point -  Moxie’s Kryptonite.

    “Tell me something,”   he said levelly as he began to pour his frustrated friend a drink. Despite the serving regulations, Edgar filled the glass until the liquid sat just shy of the brim. Putting it down gracefully, he turned back around to look at him.   “How long have we been friends now?”

    Moxie huffed, a hand wrapping unceremoniously around his drink, bringing it close to his lips. �� “Too fuckin’ long...”   he muttered before downing the contents of his glass.  Only when it was empty did he continue:   “I don’t know.  Centuries, probably.”

    “And in all that time, how many times have I done something that has put my creed in jeopardy?”

    “...”   Whether one liked him or not, Edgar was a respectable leader.  In fact, Moxie would hazard a guess and say that he was the best he could have wound up with.  In his previous creed, his Alpha had been a flight risk.  Though his strength was impressive-- he had once killed a band of six rival hunters single-handedly-- he’d been nothing short of a moron.  His foolhardy ways had cost a lot of his own their lives.  It didn’t help that his means of compensation was mating with those that remained in exchange for their silence.  Edgar, on the other hand, was different.  Not only did he possess a great deal of power, the way his mind worked was unheard of in their community.  To him, he resembled a renowned chess player - a renowned chess player with a body count.   “...’s not like I can say...”   he finished lamely.

    “Yes.  I suspected as much,”   Edgar replied, re-filling his glass.   “And so with that in mind, I would implore you to have a little more faith in me.”   His hand wrapped around the stool tucked beneath the counter, drawing it close enough to sit on.  Slightly more comfortably, he once again leaned on his elbow, head cocked slightly to the side as he stared at the other.  In a patient tone:   “Rest assured, there is a reason for every decision I make.  It pays to be  CLEVER  in this day and age, not a barbarian.  This truce with Huron serves a practical function.  While it continues to do so, these people are not our enemy.”

    Less enemies, less trouble.  That was the way the wild worked.  He doubted many understood that, though he suspected he was only privy to such a thought because he had existed in a different way before this.  Had the No-Mans been all he knew, he likely would have striven for brute strength and nothing more.

    Moxie sighed softly.   “I dunno, boss.  What happened to all the fun we used to have? Tearin’ out throats, takin’ names later?”

    “Don’t talk about the glory days as if they’ve long passed, friend,”   Edgar tutted, reaching forward to pat his arm.   “We’ll have our fun, just in the proper way, at the proper time.  Like gentlemen.  Understand?”

    Sullenly, Moxie nodded his head.

    “Do cheer up,”   the Alpha continued, rising from his seat.   “I have a surprise for you.”

    He watched the other lye’s head incline, normally squinted eyes round with curiosity.  After a moment of silence:   “You know I hate surprises.  What is it?”

    “Ah-ah-ahh!”   Edgar all but sang, ever-present smile splitting into a fully-fledged grin.  He whipped around the bar like a falcon, taloned fingers resting atop Moxie’s shoulders and pulling him up to his feet.   “This was the reason I came looking for you.  It would be senseless to give it away just like that.  Put on your dancing shoes.”

    “My what?”

    He didn’t get the chance to ask anything else as Edgar pushed him along.

                                                                     _____

    “... the fuck am I lookin’ at?”   Moxie asked, eyes squinting hard at the foreign object.  It was tall, and he wondered briefly how he had missed it.  Edgar must have had it moved to the tavern that day while he’d been out hunting for food.  It stood in the corner, arched shape casting an ominous shadow onto the ground.  Pronounced decals lined its edges, a peculiar blend of red, yellow and green, and when Edgar shifted forwards to press one of the many buttons, it made a noise.  Moxie’s ears stood straight up, as if startled.

    “This, my friend, is a jukebox,”   Edgar said, gesturing for the hunter to come closer.  He did so hesitantly, eyes moving across the new object with distrustful fascination.   “It plays music.”   Gently, he pressed another button, the screen lighting up.  The song selection jumped straight to titles that began with L in accordance to what Edgar had selected.   “I figured we could use some ambience for this place.  Nothing livens a scene up quite like music.”

    Moxie watched with a hint of interest.  Edgar knows which buttons to press already…  I have to learn too.   “So what, y’thought a bunch’a noise would help soothe my headaches?”

    “Oh, come.  Don’t be so sour!  I know you love music!”

    It was a strange truth, but a truth nonetheless.  Lyes didn’t often have access to things like that.  There was no such thing as ‘art’ when you came from the wild.  The closest thing you could get to that was a fresh corpse.  Nevertheless, he had heard guitars in the woods before. Ambitious campers or Edgar’s weird friend, he wasn’t sure,  but the point was that he enjoyed the sound.  Though he hadn’t been vocal about it, he knew that his Alpha was likely to notice. He often did, for reasons that escaped him.

    What do you care?  You’re the one with the power.

    “Choose a song!  Any song?  Let’s dance the night away!”

    “I ain’t dancin’.  Especially not with you,”   Moxie huffed, though a hand had already stuck out to toggle with the arrow keys.  He recognised none of the titles, selecting one at random, seeming to jump slightly when the device began to make noise.  Despite being told what it did, it still surprised him to be so close to something so loud.   “Woah.”

    “Grand, isn’t it?”   Edgar exclaimed, spinning in a circle as if inviting him into his personal space.  The hunter scoffed, moving away, though his tail began to sway without his say-so. While he couldn’t see him, Edgar gave him a puzzled kind of smile;  the sort that expressed a deep confusion despite its contentment.  Truthfully, he didn’t understand why Moxie was so standoffish.  He likely had his reasons, but he had no clue what they were.  He felt as if there was a tragic sort of distance between them, one filled with a daunting vacancy that lingered long after a stale goodbye.

    Why do you refuse to have a good time?  Why do you only let pleasure visit you in small, controlled doses?  Why are your claws drawn around somebody who has sworn to protect you?

    He watched as Moxie trudged back behind the bar, half expecting him to begin working again. However, all he did was slump against it, tail swinging from side to side like a macabre metronome;  jagged point catching the lamp-light, glinting like an age-old dagger.  This was as calm as he could get.

    “... decent investment,”   he allowed, hard stare fixed on the wall.  The last thing he wanted to do was feed an Alpha’s ego.  In his experience, the more you did that, the harder you fell when it inevitably shot to their head.  They abused their power almost as easily as they fucked  -  without reason, without warning, and wholly in their best interests.   “It’ll drown out these lousy drunkards’ voices a little.”

    “That it will, my friend!”   He was already busy flipping through tracks on his own accord, grin now eager, genuinely invested.  If there was one thing he would always have room for, it was music.  From the moment he’d decided that a tavern was the establishment that worked most in favour with his desires, he’d known at some point that he would invest in a player of some sort.  Failing that, he would have talked to his talented musician friend about playing live on certain nights.

    Perhaps I should still do that.  Murr would probably be over the moon about it anyway.  It would give him another distraction  -  and me a source of pleasure.  Everybody wins.

    So focused with the jukebox, he missed the slacken of Moxie’s jaw;  the way he nuzzled his cheek into his palm, ears bent in the direction of the sound as his Alpha flitted through song previews, tail swish-swish-swishing like a reed behind his head.  A rare tranquillity had befallen him, one that only visited people in their dreams.

    You’re a weird Alpha, he thought to himself, watching Edgar’s face light up as he found a ragtime track that seemed to resonate with him.  It’s almost as if you care about us.

[enixamyram]

Hey, guess what, I’ve found another screen rant I want to react to! I wasn’t planning to do any more but, reading through this article, I just have SO many problems with it... So Let’s do another, agree or disagree with a Screenrant article made by someone with no bias at all. (Sarcasm for the last part by the way.) So let’s see:

Agreed with this point. People act like, if the characters weren’t on screen then they disappeared or something. Maybe they were just living their own lives?

... I don’t even understand this article. Apparently this is 20 things people get wrong and this point is that the timeline can make sense, but then OP goes on to say “However, the more characters were introduced and the more worlds the characters ventured into, it became clearer and clearer that time didn't work the same way everywhere... However, in a world of fairytales, expecting anything more than that is simply asking too much. What does it matter, exactly, when some of these events took place as long as we know that they were a long time ago in a universe not at all like our own?”

Like, so that means this isn’t something people get wrong - the timeline DOESN’T make sense - so what the hell is it doing in this article? You can’t claim you’ve solved it just because you shrug and go “yeah but it’s magic so what do you expect?”

I mean the text directly conflicts the title/bullet point. Luckily I can still safely say I disagree, both with the title and the text because the timeline became f*cked, and just making an embarrassed shrugging face doesn’t change that.

I can’t even say disagree because this is just plain wrong! I don’t quite understand this writer. I can’t tell what they’re deal is, like did they just give a poor title to their article?

Season 1 - The Original Curse Season 2 - Belle and Sneezy lost their memories. Season 3 - Everyone lost a year. Season 5 - Camelot Season 6 - Emma lost her memories Season 7 - Another Curse.

Notice how I left out 4? Well this is where I’m getting confused because this is what OP had to say about Season 4: “While season four dabbled with alternate universes, memories were never wiped or reset in the way they were in every other season.”

... But their memories WERE wiped! They were essentially in a curse because their memories WERE wiped and they WERE given new identities just like the original curse. So yes, memory wipes did in fact happen every single season!

So I can’t agree or disagree because maybe some people do call Ruby a lesbian, but most everyone I talk to calls her bi... So I’ma just skip this one.

Note: She’s bi people. This is canon. If you don’t agree then tough shit.

Agreed, there’s plenty of other ways true love can be proven. TLK is probably just the most convenient, lol.

Kind of agree? I mean I think most people do know and acknowledge this but I guess it can sometimes escape people without realising in passing sentences?

This is true. It was a lame and terrible reveal that made no sense but it was revealed.

... Like, I’m getting confused again. Because this title either doesn’t fit or the writer lives under a rock because no one get’s this wrong! Everyone - rightfully - calls out Zelena for what she did. Even Zelena fans admit what she did was messed up!

... I do agree, I don’t think she made up for all the awful things she did and she definitely became “one of the team” way too quickly for my liking. (I’m hesitant because I suddenly have an idea what side of the fandom wrote this article and I can pretty much predict where it’s going.)

AND THERE IT IS!

DISAGREE.  DISAGREE. DISAGREE. DISAGREE. DISAGREE. DISAGREE.

“Nothing says good guy like being an older man who takes advantage of a young girl, impregnates her, and lets her go to jail for crimes you yourself committed.” First off, we don’t know his age. Second, he didn’t ‘impregnant’ her. She got pregnant. It takes two to tango though I doubt the writer knows this. And third, Emma went to jail for HER crimes. Sorry, dear writer, but let me just fill you in. Aiding and abetting a fellow criminal IS A CRIME! Emma did wrong and she was punished for it. I don’t necessarily agree with what Neal did but he is not responsible for where Emma ended up.

“Even further, nothing says good guy like someone who mocks the woman he allegedly loves for the years of trauma, suffering, and scars she endured as a result of your callous, selfish behavior.” ... WHEN?!

“... Neal Cassidy became more and more like the selfish, frequently malicious parents who raised him.” ... Again, WHEN?! Like seriously, selfish maybe but malicious?!

“In no world would he have been the right man for Emma or a good father to Henry because he could never accept accountability for any of his many wrongdoings.” Except, you know, Neal knew Henry all of five minutes and was already dedicated to being a great dad to him and literally was WAY better at being a father to Henry than Hook ever was to the kid. And I added the Hook part because my God, the writer of this article couldn’t be more obvious a CS shipper if they had every sentence end with swans and pirate flags.

It’s amazing how, even dead, they’re still threatened by Neal’s character.

Maybe this was true in S6, but by S7 they had clearly retconned it, making the Wish Realm a very real place. Otherwise there’s a ton of plot holes and you’ve got to be a real idiot to say you’d rather accept plot holes than that the Wish Realm might actually be real.

(Also, just saying, another terrible title because what happened to Emma and Regina when they were in the Wish Realm very much DID happen. So again, really poor titles for this article that clearly doesn’t know what it’s point is.)

... She VIOLATED everyone’s minds by erasing their memories and TRIED TO MURDER ZELENA!

She may have had good intentions but that doesn’t change the fact that she was a villain for a season! Dude, have you never heard the phrase “the road to hell was paved with good intentions”?! I’ll defend Emma turning Hook into a Dark One for sure, but trying to completely ignore the awful things she did?! Jesus Christ!

Again... What? OP... Everyone already KNOWS this. This article is meant to be things people gets wrong but, honestly, I think OP’s the only idiot who gets things wrong at this point. So I’m once again torn because I agree with the statement but I don’t agree that this is something people get wrong.

*Sigh* OP’s giving me a migraine. Not because their statement is incorrect, but because all their reasoning is!

“Regina, as we know, went back and forth to points outside of Maine many times during the preceding 28 years.” It was actually explained, by Regina herself to Hook in Season 2, that because she (and he) had no cursed memories, crossing the town line would not affect them.

“Greg and Tamara are also able to cross the town lines, with Greg even remembering the tiny town for years and years after a traumatic encounter within it during his childhood.” Again. The town line affects people who ARE CURSED! This is made very clear! Henry can also cross the town line when he went to get Emma.

The title, once again, is misleading. People are able to leave - so long as they don’t CROSS THE TOWN LINE. That’s the part CURSED people are not able to do.

I’ve given up Agreeing and Disagreeing at this point. OP’s points are making my brain hurt so let’s just move on.

You’re right OP. It did serve a purpose. It’s purpose was to be a cash grab!

Apparently OP’s excuse is that Anna and Elsa helped Emma come into her own as a magic user? Like yeah, I’m calling bullshit. Emma had no problem using her magic until they brought Frozen in, then they made a whole storyline of Emma having problems just to justify having Elsa struggle and then help her with it.

And after they left they were barely even mentioned. So, again. NO PURPOSE. (Apart from a cash grab.)

Okay, so actually, I do agree. Regina is still Henry’s mum but the fact is, his adoption can’t be legal because Regina would need to have lied on her application and all the usual checks usually done for people wanting to adopt couldn’t possibly have happened.

I was going to agree on technicality but you know what? No.

DISAGREE!

Just because the couples aren’t perfect doesn’t make them toxic. (Using OP’s examples:) “Robin's relationship with Regina results in his being repeatedly assaulted and fathering a child as a result of that assault.” Wow, dude, wait to blame the girlfriend for some of the bad stuff that happened in Robin’s life. I sure feel sorry for whoever you end up with if this is how you see it. “Hook and Emma frequently lie to one another as well,” Lying does not equal a toxic relationship! Certain lies, maybe, but general lying is just what people do when they’re embarrassed or ashamed or upset. What counts is what you’re lying about and also whether or not you come clean about it.

The only one I’ll agree with is RumBelle but even then OP completely misses the reason WHY they’re a toxic relationship. Instead they generalise it into very un-toxic details.

... Again... Like... I agree with the statement but NO ONE GETS THIS WRONG!

OP is clearly just using this article as an excuse to bash Regina. And I’m not a Regina fan, but no, dude, if you’re gonna do this then make a “20 of the worst things Regina ever did” list. Not a “20 things people get wrong” and then list a bunch of things that one in ten people gets wrong!

And now OP’s repeating. Because I’m pretty sure this was covered in the 4th one? Like, agree. I guess. But it feels like OP was running out of things and figured Regina bashing again would be too obvious or something.

Okay. Now this is something a lot of people won’t agree with but... I do.

I agree the show was intended to be Emma’s story and that it then got popular and other characters got popular and it branched out into something more.

... However OP is still a colossus idiot because they ended on this sentence:

“It's what made the concept of a seventh season without almost any of the Charmings such a laughable concept - and such a colossal failure, as well.” And while Season 7 may not be the masterpiece I pretend it is to piss of anti’s, it is also far from the worst. OP just hates it because their fav wasn’t centre stage and they’re bitter as hell.

Wow this was probably the stupidest article yet. OP either clearly doesn’t know what they were meant to be doing (a list of things people often forget about the show) or they just wanted to make a list where they bitched a few points and couldn’t be bothered to think of a catchy title or reason why. Either way, OP’s an idiot and most of these points are ridiculously dumb.

[fromtheringapron]

Reviewing Google Audience Reviews of WWE Raw

One day, I searched Monday Night Raw on Google for reasons even unbeknownst to me. What is it out of boredom? A sliver of hope that I’d discover Raw had been canceled and replaced with a rebooted Prime Time Wrestling? I don’t know, but I did stumble upon some treasure in my aimless journey: Google Audience Reviews of Raw! This is apparently a new feature to Google. It allows people like you and I to give our baseless, uninformed opinions on any TV show at any time. Isn’t the Internet great?

But, man, if that wasn’t good enough, the real treasure are the reviews themselves. Such an intriguing look into the jaded, ignorant, infuriating, hilarious, and naive group of folks who make up WWE’s fanbase. The thing about the Internet, for better or worse, is that it gives a platform for all sorts of people to voice their opinion, even on a silly wrestling show. However, I’d like to think that also means it gives me the platform to give my opinion on their opinion. There are countless Raw reviews in this new section of Google, but here are a few that have really caught my eye:

Review #27: The AEW Truther

Okay, I’ll start out by sussing out some bullshit: All Elite Wrestling has a lot of promise, but we need to stop with the narrative that they’re going to be breathing down the WWE’s neck right out of the gate. They haven’t even put on their first show and don’t have a TV deal. In addition, outside of the diehard Internet fans and wrestling journalists, the casual fan who tunes into Raw isn’t going to give a fuck about AEW, mainly because they haven’t heard of it. So, no, “us Pro Wrestling fans” aren’t just going to turn to that. Again, it’s got potential and the excitement over it is valid, but I can’t help but feel the ones hyping it up the most will be the first to voice their disappointment when it doesn’t match even a fraction of what they expected.

With all of that said, I absolutely agree with this fan on the egregiousness of WWE putting an actual fascist dickhead and a convicted rapist into their Hall of Fame, especially when there’s inexplicably more rage geared toward the likes of Koko B. Ware and Torrie Wilson getting inducted, two people who were company employees for several years. I’m usually never the one to be up in arms over who gets inducted in the Hall of Fame because it’s a fake hall for a fake sport at the end of the day, but I do earnestly believe the focus should be on the workers who clocked in the hours.

Review #352: The Benoit Truther

Look, even though many will disagree, it’s okay for you to think Daniel Bryan sucks. Everyone has their own unique set of faves and least faves, and yours is no less valid than anyone else’s. Consensus in the fan community is boring, anyway.

Well, within reason anyway, because I’d like to think that the probability of Chris Benoit rotting in Hell right now is something we can all agree on. And, honestly, still listing Benoit as the greatest of all time feels wrong on a deep, moral level. The dude did some great things in his career, yes, but that’s besides the point. That doesn’t cancel out that he murdered his wife and son. Is defending the name of someone who will always be associated with a slaughtered family a hill you really want to fight on?

I don’t want to make it seem a comment like this is totally uncommon. It’s not much different from the various Youtube comments that linger on to this day about how Benoit should be inducted into the Hall of Fame. It still infuriates me though, largely because it feeds into the cesspool of Benoit apologia that’s only swelled since that fateful weekend in 2007. It’s the kind of language that words Benoit as ultimately a tragic figure whose poor brain was so damaged that his crimes were practically unavoidable, an explanation that wouldn’t be afforded to him if he weren’t so widely regarded by smarky wrestling bros. And that’s a bunch of shit.

The first half of the review isn’t so bad, which is why I didn’t include it. Maybe this fan just isn’t aware of what they’re saying, and I get that, but intentions can only go so far with me. The scariest part though? 78 people found the review helpful. The most of any review I’ve seen so far.  Fuckin’ balls.

Review #658: The Anti-Bullying Crusader

Okay, so I kinda love this. It’s such a nice reminder in a time where kayfabe is long dead and the WWE roster, regardless of heel/face alignment, will post pics with each other out in the town on social media that there are still fans who eat all of this shit up. I obviously know nothing about this person, but the review conjures up the image of an ornery senior citizen sitting ringside ready to whack those dastardly heels with a cane.

The bullying argument is hilarious. We all know WWE’s anti-bullying campaign Be A Star is hypocritical, disingenuous bullshit, largely birthed out of Linda McMahon’s failed run in politics. Like, how many of their storylines involve and normalize bullying? How many times have guys like The Rock and John Cena engaged in homophobic and misogynistic taunting on-screen over the years? There’s nothing wrong with informing your younger viewers on why bullying in real life is wrong, but you can’t deny the WWE has certainly trivialized the message. 

And it’s even more ridiculous when someone stops watching because of all the fake, scripted bullying on the show. Honestly, my friend, what are you expecting out of a wrestling product then? Bobby Roode vs. Heath Slater in a Handshake Contest? Also, this fan has been watching since they were five years old, no doubt remembering a more innocent time where Steve Austin would give the Stunner to someone who completely didn’t deserve that. 

I also love the last line. After bashing Raw for its bully-enabling platform, they at least concede that the ladies are killing it right now. Such an encouraging feminist stance!

Review #229: Everyone Had Fun and Nobody Got Hurt

Um, what? I do get what this fan is saying in the sense that, yes, wrestling is just play fighting, but “their policy of no violence”? Do I need to bring up that Roode/Slater handshake battle for the ages? And the wrestlers may sell fake injuries on TV all the time, but they can sustain injuries that are real as hell and carry some severe long-term repercussions. I feel like I’m being way too harsh, but come on now. If you’ve been watching since 1999, you’ve probably seen plenty of guys take unnecessary, dangerous bumps that shorten their careers. Watching even a small bit of Mick Foley’s work can probably tell you that.

With that said, I do love the refreshing stance in loving wrestling because it’s scripted. People usually hate on wrestling for that reason alone, largely because the business has historically gone to great lengths to make it seem real. It’s great to have someone who basically says, “You know, this is scripted bullshit and I’m okay with it.” And honestly, girl, I feel the same way. We need more people like us.

Review #44: Garden Variety Lapsed Fan #15,712

This certainly is a take. I can’t comment on what it’s like in other fandoms, but so many wrestling fans love to engage in the narrative that WWE stopped being good a long while ago and the current product is the worst it’s ever been but because they’re such a diehard fans they’ll stick around until it gets good again and willingly suffer through all of it due to the innate goodness in their hearts or some shit. The only difference in each of these arguments is that the date of the tipping point always changes. There are fans right now who’ll tell you WWE circa 2019 is the worst it’s ever been, but this was also true back when I first started traversing the Internet back in 2004 or 2005 and fans then were talking how that period was the worst it had ever been.

With that in mind, I find this review a bit refreshing in the face of Attitude Era truthers, who’ll repeatedly tell you wrestling, and seemingly all of pop culture, stopped being good sometime in the early 2000s. But as we near closer and closer to 20 years since that era ended, the more likely we are to see younger fans who have no real nostalgia for it. It won’t be long until we hear more and more talk about the salad days of Roman Reigns, Braun Strowman, and others. This fan says WWE stopped being good in late 2016/early 2017, which obviously wasn’t that long ago. I’m sure some fan daydreaming about the days of the Monday Night Wars would find this completely baffling.

It begs the question: when exactly was the WWE good? Has it ever been good? I don’t think any one answer is the sole correct one. None of these perspectives are invalid by any means. Every era of wrestling has had its pros and cons, and everyone has their own set of standards on what they consider a quality wrestling product. And, to be real, I don’t want to excuse the WWE of their shitty, at times irredeemable, booking and creative decisions. Fans have been driven away for numerous, valid reasons over the years.

But there’s that whole notion that nothing can ever bring back those early feelings of puppy love, and that’s just as true with the way wrestling first captivates you. Perhaps the constant frustration with present day WWE is partly the inability to rekindle what first hooked you in and never being able to recapture that feeling because, well, it’s simply not possible.

Review #788: Our Savior

We are not worthy of this review. A true diamond in the rough. So many good bits here. The prediction that Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose will compete in a “no holes barred” match, which sounds like something out of a Sean Cody wrestling parody. The invention of the “Tang Tang Championship” featuring the likes of “Pop Scott Dulson and his tag team partner." The referring of Baron Corbin as not only “Barry Korgan,” but also as “Brian Corbin.” The passage that merely says “All winding.” The passage that merely says “Bobby Lashley.” That it’s not even a review of Raw, the TV show, but more a comment on the existential nihilism we feel in the Trump era.

I’ve never seen a review that makes no sense but also says so much. I love the complete refusal of punctuation marks. Who needs those archaic things, anyway? It just makes it all one, continuous thought, a stream of consciousness that could make even James Joyce blush. I also dig the experimentation with spacing. After all, why do we need to just one space? Why not several? It’s important to give our thoughts the space they need and this fan understands that. Plus, it makes for poetic reading.

The review ends on an ominous note, with the fan’s last message being “My name Matthewhisee.” Is this meant to be a threat? A coded message of some sort? Matthewhisee, if that is your name, please let us know more. The world needs your insight. Oh, and to the 7 people who found this review helpful, you are the vanguards of the resistance. Bless you all.

[obsidiancorner]

Tag Meme

I was tagged by the stellar @astroshorts. Thanks for the tag, my lovely. xoxo

The last…

Drink: Pomegranate Seltzer Water

Phone call: I missed a phone call from my boyfriend earlier when he was at the store. The last person I actually talked to, though, was my beloved little sister (I don’t care if I’m only a minute older. She’s the only little sister I get dammit.)

Text message: Also my sister

Song you listened to: Semi Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind

Time you cried: two words: Story Core. That shit had me in tears.

Have you ever…

Dated someone twice: I have, in fact, dated Rob twice. 

Kissed someone and regretted it: yep.

Been cheated on: Yep

Lost someone special: Yes. Both grandparents on my mom’s side were incredibly special people and I miss them both dearly. 

Been depressed: short answer- yes

Gotten drunk and thrown up: Yep. In my early-mid twenties, I was friends with a functioning alcoholic and she would always con me into trying to keep up with her... because I was stupid, I tried. It never ended well. DO NOT DO IT. Your liver will thank you. 

Three favorite colors: Blue, purple, and green

In the last year have you…

Made new friends: I joined Tumblr this year, so all my mutuals count (I think?) but I’m especially close to a few of them. 

Laughed until you cried: In this house and/or with the sister I have? Absolutely. There is a lot of laughter in this house, despite the chronic depression that my entire family is plagued with. 

Met someone who changed you: Yes. They didn’t make me. They just inspired me to be better and I changed for the better as a result. 

Found out who your friends are: the ones who constantly support me and push me on, despite my insecurities. 

Kissed someone on your facebook list: Aside from Rob (because duh), no. 

Do you have any pets: A beautiful dilute torbie (cat) named Kokomo and a Shi-chon named Sadie. 

Do you want to change your name: My last name eventually... maybe? I don’t know if Rob and I will ever marry... but aside from that? No. 

What did you do for your last birthday: Sat at home, probably perusing Tumblr.

What time did you wake up: I’m a parent of a child on the Spectrum who keeps absurd sleeping hours... I couldn’t even begin to tell you. It was still dark and I hadn’t had my coffee yet so brain functions were at a bare-minimum, so there’s that. 

What were you doing last night at midnight: Watching That 70′s Show with Rob before bed.

Name something you can’t wait for: the day I can get my drawing tablet

When was the last time you saw your mom: I live with her because Rob and I need help with Jenna. She requires constant supervision and is usually a two adults to one kid ratio requirement. 

What are you listening to rn: Rob is watching Season 2 of The Walking Dead right now so lots of screaming and zombie gurgles?... it’s just kind of on in the background. So is the home screen tinkling of the PS4, the occasional popping of the carbonation in my seltzer water, and the clickity-clack of my typing. 

Have you ever talked to someone named Tom: There were several “Thomas” boys in my school growing up... So occasionally from elementary school up until high school graduation. 

Something that gets on your nerves: people that bully others online.     -> this was astroshorts’ answer and I’m leaving it there because I’m the one who argues for or helps support the one being bullied. Anon posters get argued for because they probably won’t come out to defend themselves... hence anon to begin with... but if it’s someone who will fight back on their own? I just give support. 

Most visited website: Tumblr, my Google Drive, and my Redbubble store after I’ve posted anything about it. AO3, as well, when I post stuff. What can I say? I’m addicted to the sinking feeling when a piddly amount of views come in... That’s a lie. I’m usually painfully optimistic only to have that optimism squashed. lol *shrug* oh well. 

Hair Color: a medium brown.... It’s my natural color. 

Long or short hair: I usually keep my hair long. an inch or two below the shoulders at a minimum. Usually it’s around the small of my back. 

Do you have a crush on someone: Rob, I guess? Does it count if you’re in a committed relationship with the person? 

What do you like about yourself: I’m opinionated... And whichever person hit my inbox with that comment about loving reading my opinions on stuff, I freakin’ love you. Your Anon comment made me cry. 

Blood type: A Negative. 

Nickname: Beccaboo. Got it in band in high school and it’s just sorta stuck. 

Relationship status: Long-term committed relationship 

Zodiac: Cancer sun, with Mercury and Gemini heavily influencing my whol chart. 

Prounouns: she/her

Favorite tv shows: iZombie, The Walking Dead (and Talking Dead), That 70′s Show, 

Tattoos: 4- A gemini sign (gemini/cancer cusp but mercury is heavy enough an influence that my cancer sun doesn’t show much) on my right shoulder, a star pattern on the small of my back, an autism one on my left side, and a locked heart on my left wrist.  

Right or left-handed: depends on what I’m doing. For writing, right. For almost everything else, left.-> oddly enough, astroshorts, same. 

Surgery: Tonsils when I was 6. 

Sport: Horseback riding and Marching Band. Anyone who says people who march don’t have any athleticism, I call bullshit. Marching Band members put in long hours of constant marching and playing through a week. They work not only arms and legs, but lung capacity as well. It takes an incredible amount of effort to be a good marching band. That means keeping up top lung performance at the 7:59 time mark as you did before the first minute of an 8-minute show is through. I can promise you that after having marched, sometimes with ungodly spiteful step size, for that long, even a football player would be saying that what band members do takes athleticism. Fact. We had several football players in our band who had to skip their halftime talk with their coach to march with the band. And that’s not even mentioning constant playing through parade routes that can range anywhere from one to three miles in length on average. Marching Band is a goddamn sport. 

Vacation: I’ve been to Australia, the Continental Divide in Colorado, all over Ohio, Washington D.C., North Carolina, New York City, Illinois, Lake Huron in Michigan, Illinois, Indiana, and the Great Smoky Mountains in Tennessee. I want to go to Greece though.  

Pair of shoes: My Converse sneakers. They have a nifty design on them. I also have a super-comfy pair of stilettos that I love dearly. 

Eating: what about it? I used to not and was in the “target weight range” but looked sickly because of malnourishment. Now I do eat and am somewhat overweight but look and feel much healthier. For clarity, it wasn’t really an eating disorder. I ate when I was hungry but was always stressed so I almost never ate. I would go days without eating before realizing I hadn’t eaten in forever and would eat a bowl of cereal or a couple slices of pizza. 

Drinking: only on select nights when I “wine and write”... alcoholism runs in my family so I definitely don’t make a habit of drinking too much. In my youth it was something to do with the crew... now it’s just me and my characters every so often. Never to handle a problem. that’s a slippery slope I have no business being on. 

I’m about to: go to bed, probably. it’s 10:58 pm at this moment. 

Waiting for: the day I can get a better computer for art and my drawing tablet. 

Want: the drawing tablet, in the most immediate sense. In the long term, though, it is to know that Jenna will eventually be able to make on her own. Rob and I won’t be around forever and I worry about what will happen to her when we are gone. If we can’t get her current path altered to one better suited for her needs, I’m terrified of what will happen to her if something were to happen to me and Rob prematurely... even more so when we are all older. 

Get married: Maybe someday but Rob and I are in no rush to even get engaged. We love each other deeply and are in a committed relationship and that is good enough for us. 

Career: Right now I’m a stay-at-home mom. But I would love to get an art career to take off... though the odds of that are slim to none. 

Which is better:

Hugs or kisses: hugs. I’m picky about who touches me at all... so I’m especially picky about who is kissing me. 

Lips or eyes: eyes

Shorter or taller: I’m 4 feet 10 inches tall (1.47 meters for my metric friends) so take a guess... I need someone taller to help me reach shit.

Older or younger: older

Nice arms or stomach: arms. Dear god, arms. 

Hook up or relationship: relationship

Troublemaker or hesitant: Hesitant... I guess? I tend to keep my nose pretty clean. 

Have you…

Kissed a stranger: No

Drunken hard liquor: I’m 29...

Lost glasses/contact lenses: I don’t have either... though I probably should... It’s getting harder to see some things clearly. White lettering on a tv’s guide screen? difficult from too far away. Digital clocks? tough to decipher from too far away. I used to be able to read that stuff from another room. 

Turned someone down: Yes

Sex on the first date: Yes.... but we had been friends for years so it wasn’t exactly the same as, say, a blind date that ended in a one-night stand. (No judgement. You all do you... just make sure you’re protected.)

Broke someone’s heart: Yes. Bonus points for me for two people breaking each other’s hearts simultaneously. I’m an over achiever and he was too. But I miss him, even though it could never have been... both of them, actually. timing is a bitch sometimes. 

Had a broken heart: Yes... see above

Been arrested: Nope but I did grow up in a small town and worked as a third shift server at a local restaurant so they let me sit in the back of their cop car while they chatted with me while I was on break once. They were fun cops... went to high school with one. 

Cried when someone died: yes... isn’t that fairly commonplace when someone who is close to you or you love dies?

Fallen for a friend: Rob was a friend for years before we started dating. I’ve known him for almost 15 years and we’ve been together for 10. Other than Rob, though, a couple times. See mutual heartbreak comment a few bulletpoints above.  

Do you believe in:

Yourself: No

Miracles: I believe stuff happens that has no viable explanation at present. That doesn’t necessarily equate to a miracle though. It just means it can’t be explained right now. 

Love at first sight: No

Santa claus: Who made this meme?

Kiss on the first date: Of course.

I’m going to be a fun-sucker and not tag anyone else because my primary circle is in the Dragon Age fandom and I know most of them have already done it. If anyone WANTS to do this, of course, feel free and say I tagged you so I can see your answers! <3

[blyanten]

THE DUCK AVENGER PK2: #7 ONE MORE DAY

This is the issue for those who have yet to realize that the Ducklair Family Civil War hurts people! It’s also a very interesting look at that fact.

“Clean.” Guess Hobey’s off the drugs. Mid-rape is a terrible way to do it though, 0/10 would not recommend.

Our friend Hobey is sleeping in the park, having a nightmare, while the narration boxes ominously talk about things going back to normal, IF something haven’t changed you in the meantime. Unfortunately for Hobey, he had an unstable, psychic woman scramble his brains for a while, so he’s started hearing voices.

Other hobo know where this is going :(

Later, the Avenger is once again trying to figure out Everett’s mysterious antennas. He’s brought tools, and the first one, a meter, apparently registers zero voltage. Which seems odd for such a large installation.

Meanwhile, Everett is being Everett. Vaguely creepy and kind of a dick.

GET A HOBBY!

This is so amazingly, hilariously petty, I keep re-reading it just to laugh.

The Avenger jokes to himself, thinking it only, that the antennas might be microwave ovens, and Everett decides he doesn’t need to worry about the Avenger.

That wouldn’t be a problem at all if you hadn’t behaved an idiot, but okay, sure.

Time for the robot-instects of DOOM.

The Avenger is immediately blasted down onto the street below. Where he meets Hobey. This meeting goes nowhere this time, as the Avenger realizes he’s late for work and has to run.

He shows up half an hour late, and this time the boss isn’t buying his lies. Understandable, as Donald is covered in soot, but claims he had problems with the water heater. Show up on time, or else! Is the message this time.

Which is fair, really, but it still sucks.

And then it’s time for a flashback to Hobey’s past. We find him in an office, where he’s busy getting fired. Not for doing a bad job or anything, it’s just hard times and people with more technical skillsets are more valuable than the creative types at the moment.

Hobey decides this is bullshit and decides to sue. This goes… well, we all know where we first met Hobey.

And now he’s started to hear voices.

Aw, Hobey, no.

At work, Rupert has taken pity on Donald and sent him off to “patrol” the sofa department. Rupert himself however, gets stuck cleaning up a vaguely alive failure in the frozen food department, as Stella goes looking for Donald. Finding him asleep, she start talking about Feng Shui and something called Iridology, which is apparently reading of the eyes. She does correctly diagnose him with stress, stress and more stress.

This is when Rupert arrives and gets jealous. Donald tries to explain it’s nothing, but Rupert walks of muttering about people who can read eyes and people who can read thoughts.

Pretty sure there’s only one of those around this issue, and it’s not Donald.

Stella makes one last suggestion to what might be causing Donald stress, and accidentally strikes gold: The antennas might be the problem.

And a lightbulb switches on for Donald. What if the antennas are psychic? Or rather, what if the antennas are designed to sense the intentions of the people around them, in order to protect themselves?

Considering who made them, that’s a really good guess.

With this working theory, the Avenger gives it another try, this time thinking positive thoughts!

It works, right until the Avenger lets his mind wander to the actual task at hand, disassembling the antennas, and the one he’s working on explodes.

Shield’s getting a workout today.

Elsewhere, some technicians who were supposed to be working on a different antenna get told to go and fix the one that exploded. Exactly how they’re going to do that, considering that size of the explosion…

But before that they have a different problem. Hobey is asleep right next to their antenna. And what do you know, head technician recognizes him! Roger, as he’s named, quit their old company right before it shut down and started working for Ducklair Enterprises again.

Hobey gets some satisfaction out of those news, and Roger offers him breakfast too. And then, joy of joys, Hobey realizes the voices are gone! For about five seconds, and then the antenna gets turned back on.

Hobey asks Roger if he can hear the voices, and Roger, thinking Hobey’s gone screwey, offers him his card, so he can call if he needs help. Hobey accepts, but tells Roger that he’s not as screwey as he thinks.

So psychic powers are infectious. Who’d have thought?

Actually... *glances at One* 

I mean, it could be that Hobey had some latent telepathic ability that Korinna woke up, we know there are other humans with psychic powers. But I kinda like the idea that this is a thing? Because I seriously doubt One was programmed with telepathy, but assuming prolonged contact with the Ducklair’s family brand of telepathy messes with someone’s head in a specific way...

It’s an out there theory, I know, but I’m keeping it.

While Hobey is having his little revelation, Angus Fangus is going to try and dig up some dirt on Everett. Who is in a meeting with his top people, so he’ll have to wait a bit.

Those top people are Birgit Q, Anymore Boring and Lyla. The main point of the meeting is the Everett want to ensure that everyone gets that the image of the corporation is very important right now. The competition is worried about how this might upset the market, the suppliers are worried about new demand, the customers are just worried apparently.

Lyla, in addition to her actual job also gets to be responsible for Juniper. Not sure that’s normal, but considering that the entire cast have changed, not adding yet another person is probably a good idea, yeah.

Lyla thinks Juniper is doing fine, being a sweet and sensitive girl. Everett thinks she’s a bit too sensitive, and not ready for the stress that comes with being his daughter, which… well, Juniper doesn’t look too good here, so he probably has a point.

This is the kind of look my father has named “Comaroad 4″.

Which is too bad, since Agnus is waiting for them right outside the elevator.

Lyla immediately kicks him out, and that’s that.

On the dangerous side of town, Hobey is giving every indication of having lost it completely.

That is a stabbing motion. You need a slicing motion to cut those bonds, just saying.

Hobey has gone from realizing the antennas make him hear voices, to realizing what those voices are to actually using the psychic web to his own advantage. That is some learning curve there, I’m impressed!

Everett is less so, but despite knowing what Hobey is doing, he can’t actually find him.

At Century, Lyo and the Avenger discusses the antennas. Lyo mentions another superhero, who faced a similar enemy. In 1949 Astrongman faced down the Perciever, who could anticipate his opponent’s every move… then reality interfered and it turned out that you also need to be fast enough to react to those moves, and Astrongman knocked him of a building before he could.

Ouch.

The Perciever survived though, because a few years later, Astrongman faced him again. Which is where this becomes relevant, as Astrongman used an anti-psych cap to keep his thoughts safe. The Avenger is free to borrow it.

Your name is the DUCK Avenger and you’re a duck. I’m not sure you get to criticise.

Hours later, Hobey is busy mindreading in a bank. He’s also being terribly rude to the staff, but whatever, he does get blackmail material on the governor. He wonders how much cash the various news would pay for that.

Speaking of news! Angus is about to run a story on Ducklair Enterprises, despite having zero information. Except the is one thing they do have a tiny bit of information on, and that’s the antennas. Angus begins a little tirade about why the exist, and the comic goes from Angus’s news to the Avenger making a plan to blow up every antenna in a chain reaction.

... so about that secret identity you erased from your memories... how’s that holding up?

After this strange outburst, Everett calls on Lyla to inform her about Angus’s story and implies she better deal with it. Before going right back to whatever psychic connection is tying him and the Avenger together.

The Avenger is currently Donald and at work, where Stella, once again concerned about her friends offers him a massage.

Why does anyone listen to this guy, anyway? 

At the governor’s residence, Hobey is ready for some blackmail. The governor is naturally not interested at first, but when Hobey lays out the evidence along with the standard “I have copies and they will be sent to everyone if I don’t get back home safely” speech, he folds like a house of cards.

It turns out that the governor’s crime is that he requested kickbacks from the company that installed the Ducklair antennas. The governor tries to deny that he has any relationship with Everett, apparently the governor doesn’t like him, but Hobey isn’t buying it. Or rather, he is, but that’s because the only reason the governor would go down the supply chain to ask for kickbacks is if Everett told him “no”.

Unlike the governor though, Hobey does like what Everett does. He understands it.

I’m gonna take a stab in the dark and say no, no, you don’t. Wow, Korinna did a number on you.

Meanwhile, Angus has managed to trigger entire demonstrations against the antennas. Damn. Duckburgians are easily riled.

Anymore Boring is very concerned about this, but Everett takes it very calmly, saying it’s time to teach everyone a lesson.

And in the third line, the Avenger has fixed Astrongman’s hat and is blowing up antennas like a champ. Three down, hundreds to go. Too many, so the Avenger tries to tell the angry crowd to stay away from the antennas as they are pretty dangerous.

Luckily for everyone, Everett turned off the self-defence systems hour ago.

Hobey tries to defend the antennas, but the angry crowd has reached critical mass and can not be stopped.

Do Not Tangle With A Mob.

Angus worries about the very likely lawsuit coming from him having riles up the city, while Hobey makes a run for the main antenna. He thinks he can keep the crowd away from it, but Everett is skeptical.

And, shockingly, he underestimated his opponent. Well, I never.

Robot-Bugs of DOOM.

The fight rages on until…

This has been one hell of a spectacle.

And with that, the antennas are gone, and everything goes back to normal. All according to plan!

Look at you, Boring, reacting like a normal person! You’re in for a wild ride.

No, really. Everett foresaw that something might happen to the antennas, and built them so that the cables, AKA the important stuff was still safe even with the antennas blowing up. And now that people have rioted and destroyed some stuff they’ll forget about it and not think about the cables.

As for the actual events, that was improvisation. 

And so it’s all over as Hobey gets arrested, and that kinda pisses me off. Give the man a break and get him so actual help! 

So the Avenger goes back to his dayjob for now, and Everett won the battle.

A rather important battle, since he’s got the mind-reading system up and running and no one knows, dun dun duuun.

What I’ve always liked about this issue, other than the focus on the poor guy who got caught up in this mess through no fault of his own, is that even knowing the above, I am always left feeling like that was a lot of spectacle over very little. Why not go for cables immediately? 

But thinking about it... The very visible, very obvious antennas distracted the Avenger, distracted Angus, distracted basically everyone from whatever else Ducklair Enterprises might be doing, including the main purpose of the antennas. And now they’re gone, seemingly because Angus whipped up a freaking mob. 

So the people involved in that would probably not dig too deep, because they’re at the risk of getting arrested or sued, Ducklair Enterprises removed the problem so they look good (though the method was, uh, questionable), and the very visible antennas are gone, so who cares?

So now Everett has a very useful telepathic network up and running, and no one knows. Victory!

[trumpetnista]

CMW2/Trumpetnista: Harvest

Summary from FFN: UNABASHEDLY CARNID!;"Things break but they can grow again"-H.G.: In this Season 5B-6A AU, 17 year old Enid Mackenzie has put down literal and figurative roots in the ASZ but feelings of sadness and isolation still plague her. Enter Carl Grimes; Rated for language, TWD typical & potentially triggering gore towards the end, & first relationship tenderness;3rd in my 2018 SSS Project

Words from the Hooded Walker Stalker:  I am no stranger to showrunners fucking up. I'm not. Calling them out is a big part of my brand recognition but what Scott Gimple did? That is on some next level shit. I never thought anyone could fuck up worse than the folks at SCANDAL and Sleepy Hollow but I was wrong. I give TWD another full season, maybe 2 before it's gone and that is both tragic and excellent karma. Everyone talked a big game about how killing off Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Carol, Glenn would be the coup de grace for TWD but it was killing Carl Grimes that did it. "The annoying kid that should've BEEN gone" was the shatterpoint to the show and for someone who has adored Carl from GO, the karma is so damned gorgeous. 

It's not enough to ease the pain but at least I and other fans have company in our misery. Honestly, they've been playing Russian Roulette with the show since Season 5 but the introduction of Negan, the deviation from both Comic and TV canon in 8x08? It's over. The Walking Dead is coming to an end too soon yet not soon enough. Does that make sense? I think it does and so do a lot of other people out there. Seriously, it's over. It's DONE. 

Anyway, I am just gonna use my stories to NOPE all that fucking bullshit. As far as I'm concerned, Carl Grimes is alive and well and kicking evil's ass and he's gonna get to be happy with his family and his Enid. Carl and Enid didn't get nearly enough time together. We were robbed of 3 more years of Carl Grimes (Gimple did Chandler so fucking dirty, y'all!) and of seeing Carl and Enid really get to be happy together. They're gonna get to be happy together here and in all the rest of my TWD stories, Carnid and also when I eventually expand into writing for Mom and Dad AKA Richonne. That's how it's gonna be. When a Fave gets done dirty, whether by bullshit death or character ruination, it's up to the fic writers to fix things. Feel free to join me in my delusional world and enjoy the latest! 

Disclaimer: “Honestly, it’s not mine!”

"...you've been through a lot, haven't you? Spencer said that you were walking alone out there. Is there anyone looking for you now?"

She shook her head no, keeping a tight grip on her bag and her gaze down. Ingrained manners had her wanting to take her boots off but she undid the double knots instead. The red jacket she had salvaged from the snarling car Chomper was unzipped and the house was elegantly cozy. It looked like one of the places featured in Architectural Digest. Her father loved that magazine. Her mother preferred to read Cosmopolitan and both of them loved cars. It made perfect sense given where they were from and...

"How old are you?"

"...15. No, 16. My birthday was June 11th. It's not summer anymore. The heat feels different."

"It's September 15th. We kept track of time. How long have you been on your own?"

She shrugged and watched warily as a man exited the kitchen, holding a pitcher of water.

"That's my husband, Reg. He was an architect and he designed the Walls. Spencer is our youngest son who is our Gatekeeper and Aiden is our oldest. He's on a Run with his Crew right now but he should be back soon. I'm Deanna Monroe. I was a Congressperson from Ohio. Are you from around here?"

She shook her head and glanced towards the camera, scooting further away from it.

"Where are you from?"

"...Michigan...what used to be Michigan..."

"Upper or Lower Peninsula?"

Instead of replying verbally, she slowly turned her hands around the represent the state before pointing to the fleshy part underneath her right thumb.

"Southeastern Michigan. What city did you live in? Detroit? Warren? Flint?"

"...Novi. I had friends in Hazel Park, Royal Oak, and Warren because of band, parkour, and ballet but they're probably all dead now. My parents are dead. They got swarmed and Chomped."

"I'm sorry to hear that...you were a musician?"

Partially unzipping her bag but still holding it close to her chest, she showed one of her most prized possessions. The black case was decorated with shiny stickers and various felt flowers, mainly sunflowers in bloom.

"That's a clarinet case. You played?"

"First chair. I did color guard with the upperclassmen, too. My clarinet was my mom's. My knife was my mom's, too. I still have daddy's Zippo lighter and-"

Her face crumpled and instinctively, her hands came up to muffle her sobs. She felt the urge to flee. Why she had decided to return to the large Gate was anyone's guess, really. It seemed to be the right thing to do at the time, the most logical thing but now, she wasn't sure. The Walls were decent, the homes beautiful, but the people inside them were weak.

They were sheltered. They were complacent.

They didn't know what it was like to be hungry. They didn't know what it was like to be thirsty. They didn't know what it was like to be cold and wet at night or baked from the sun during the day. They didn't know anything! They didn't understand just how cruel the world had become. They had put up Walls to keep out The Dead but they were still very vulnerable to The Living. They had the Walls, a Gate, and guard posts but they were mainly empty. Anyone who could climb or had a vehicle to ram the gate could easily get in.

The place was big, way too big. There were blind spots and they had running water? That meant a sewer system. Anyone who could find a way to get down there would have free reign up top. There had to be some people who knew how to fight or shoot a gun but likely not well. It was very rare that a few people could take down a pack of assholes, especially if they were organized.

The Living were far more dangerous than The Dead.

The place she was in right now was supposed to be her salvation. She should be ecstatic to have found it and that it was being ran by decent people. However, there was a feeling of impending doom in her gut that wouldn't go away. When the doom came, it would be catastrophic. Where it would come from, she wasn't sure. Threats were everywhere. No place, no direction that a person went in was ever safe. It was even possible that a threat would come from within the Walls themselves and when it did...

The kind eyed woman stood up, moving as if to hug her but she was faster, putting the chair between them. Her zipped bag returned to its rightful place on her back. If either of them came any closer, she would unsheathe her mother's knife. She didn't have a gun with her. Guns and ammo were getting harder to find. Somebody out there was starting to hoard them and she really didn't want to know why. Also, without a silencer, guns made way too much noise. She preferred to use blades and blunt objects like bricks. She preferred to make traps or use vehicles when she could find one that worked.

The Monroes needed to back off. They needed to turn the fucking camera off and let her leave, if not The Walled Place altogether then at least leave their house. She didn't feel right being there. Everything felt so wrong. Everything was wrong and would never be right again.

The global spread of the Virus and the Walking Dead that it produced saw to that.

"...it's okay...you don't have to be scared anymore. You're in a safe place, now..."

But for how long, she wanted to shout at Deanna but couldn't. Her voice was lost to tears. Some landed on the back of the recliner she was hiding behind, staining it with more dirt. It likely wasn't the first time it had happened. It wouldn't be the last and eventually, the stains on the chair would be blood. Blood, brains, and so many other disgusting, horrible, terrible things.

"Deanna, I think you've gotten enough for now. She needs to rest. Olivia will be able to get her some supplies, a hot meal, and Denise is a psychologist. She may be able to help her."

She doubted it.

"You're right, love. I'm sorry, young lady. Sometimes, I get so focused on the big picture that I forget about the present. Luckily, I have Reg here to remind me. Can you tell us your name?"

"...Enid."

She wouldn't tell them her last name. They didn't need to know. They didn't need to know that she was The Last Mackenzie. They just needed to know that she was orphaned and nobody was looking for her. Enid had been tempted to give them a fake name but that would've been problematic later on. She didn't want them to become suspicious of her. She was just a girl...a woman on her own, trying to make it from sun up to sun down.

Could she be dangerous? If the situation warranted it, absolutely.

Enid wouldn't hesitate to defend herself or the resources she found. Nobody else was going do it. Even if someone offered to, she wouldn't let them. After what happened to her parents, she didn't want that on her conscience. Most of all, Enid didn't want to owe anyone anything. Having people think that she owed them something led to all sorts of problems...

"Hello, Enid. Welcome to the Alexandria Safe Zone."

The camera was turned off after that sentence and she sat back down, picking up the pitcher of water to drink deeply. The water was cool and crisp, free of debris. It tasted so good!

What a name for the place: The Alexandria Safe Zone. The bitch of it was that they really believed it. They really believed that they were in a safe zone. They really believed that they had everything under control. They really believed that they could handle every crisis that erupted and everything would be okay. They were wrong, tragically wrong because this couple were genuinely good people. Deanna and Reg Monroe were genuinely good people. Enid knew that. She also knew that genuinely good people were among the first ones to be killed when evil came knocking, if not the first. That was just how things worked now. It had been like that in the Beforetime, too.

If Enid tried to warn them, would they listen? If she tried to warn anyone here, would they listen? Would they change their ways? Would they add more guards to the Gate and platforms? Would they add more layers and reinforcement to the Walls? Would they learn how to fight? Would they even be willing to try? Probably not. If they didn't succumb to despair immediately, they just would dismiss her as a traumatized, paranoid little girl. They'd try to hug her and pat her head, saying that everything would be all right. She was just a baby scared of the monster in the closet, that's all. If she calmed down and trusted the Walls, everything would be hunky-fucking-dory...

Hell, even if she were grown, they still wouldn't listen to her until it was too late.

Something and someone horrifying on all levels would have to make them see truth.

Even after that happened, they likely wouldn't change. They'd just give up and die painfully.

Enid knew that she was being unfair. She knew that these Alexandrians deserved the benefit of the doubt but her gut instincts rarely steered her wrong. She knew what time it was and what time it would be sooner rather than later. It was the calm before the storm. The East wind was blowing. Clouds were on the horizon and with their arrival would come pain and bloodshed.

The bubble was going to pop.

Did she want to be around to see it? Did she want to risk being hurt or killed because of these Alexandrians' ignorance and inevitable cowardice? Were the resources inside these Walls worth it? Her parents had laid down their lives to keep her safe. Enid owed it to them and everyone else like them to not squander that sacrifice but at the same time...

Looking at the letters she had traced onto the back of her hand, she made her decision.

JSS

Just Survive Somehow.

Staying the Alexandria Safe Zone and in the LEADER's good graces was her best chance of survival at the moment.

And as awful and lonely as The Fucked New World was, Enid wasn't ready to die. Not yet.

She would stay. She'd keep her guard up and sharpen her skills so she would be ready. Just because these Alexandrians were weak didn't mean that she had to be weak, too. She would rest before finding something productive to do while waiting for evil to come knocking. When it did, Enid would fight to win or go down swinging.

When Alexandria and its people Fell, either to The Dead, The Living, or a delightful combination of the two, Enid would do her best to be one of the last ones standing, if not the last.

On her parents' graves, she swore it.

10 Months Later...

"What are you doing?"

"Plants need to breathe just like we do. I'm drilling holes in the bottom of this kiddie pool so it'll be easier for them later. I'm going to put holes in the others and then place them all at the same time. Once they're set up in the backyard, I'll take my nap before filling them with soil, fertilizer, mulch, and water. I'll give them a day to chill out before I start planting."

"What are you gonna put in them?"

"I don't know. It depends on what I feel like dealing with and what seeds we've got left."

"...my brother says that what you're doing is stupid. He says that you're stupid."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. I heard him talking to Mikey about you while they were shooting pool yesterday. He says that you shouldn't be spending so much time doing this because in the end, it won't matter."

"It's funny that he says that while happily stuffing his face with the food grown here. Asshole."

"Ron's always been like that. Is he right, though? This doesn't matter? Nothing we do matters?"

"Sam, your brother is wrong. Everything that a person does in this world, whether they're behind Walls or not matters. Every. Single. Thing. And you know what? Someday, Runs aren't going to happen anymore. Everything that can be found will go bad or be found first by someone who will say no and start shooting if they're asked to share. We have to be strong. We have to be smart. We have to be willing to fight to live. We have to be able to make and grow what's needed to keep this place going like the Monroes want it to. What I'm doing here will help make sure that people will be able to have healthy and enough food to eat no matter what or who happens. Having Walls doesn't mean a goddamned fucking thing if the people behind them could end up starving to death. Your brother is very wrong and very rude. Don't listen to him."

"I'll tell him all of that next time he says you're stupid. You're not stupid, Enid. You're smart."

"I am. Tell Ron the truth but don't say the Fuck word to him. You're too young for that shit."

It wasn't just nihilism that had Ron Anderson dismissing her efforts and insulting her. Enid knew for a fact that he was holding a torch for her. With her luck, he probably fancied himself in love with her. He wanted her and saw all of her activities as a roadblock to getting close to her. That hadn't been her plan but it certainly came in handy. If Ron or anyone else tried to get her to hang around longer, Enid always had a solid reason for going away. She always had more work to do.

Since what Enid did was important for the ASZ, nobody could complain when she decided to throw herself into doing it for weeks at a time. Many were actually grateful. She was stepping up. She was fitting in. In their eyes, she had made the ASZ her home and that was good. She was a valuable resource. Enid produced whatever she could and what she produced was awesome.

To go along with her diligent work behind the Walls, her solo supply Runs and foraging/hunting trips in the forest were consistently successful. Interfering with her business would be stupid. She had found something to do and didn't cause trouble so they left her in peace. She could stand to be a little nicer when she talked to people but overall, she was a good girl doing good things.

Enid had free reign to come and go as she pleased, which she adored.

She had the best of both worlds now: freedom and (relative) safety.

Ron would just have to stay mad about it because Enid wasn't interested in romance.

Why bother setting herself up for heartbreak and disappointment? Why open herself up to the possibility of being betrayed and abandoned later? The closest ones to you could and would become the biggest threat under pressure. It would be a very bad idea to get emotionally/physically attached to anyone with the world being as cruel it was now.

It would be an even worse idea to get emotionally/physically attached to Ron.

He was book smart, funny on occasion, and decent looking but he was just so damned weak. God, he was fucking pathetic! Ron was one of the weakest Alexandrians she knew, even weaker than some of the elderly and little kids! It was hilarious and horrifying all at the same time.

If (and it was a very big if...) Enid ever got into a relationship, she wanted a companion that she wouldn't have to constantly protect. She wanted someone who stood a fighting chance against The Fucked New World instead of just a running one. She wanted someone who had a backbone and was adaptable. She wanted someone who didn't spend more time complaining than solving problems. Ron didn't fit any of that criteria. Even if he changed for the better tomorrow, she still wouldn't want to be with him because he and his family were dangerously sick in the head.

Enid wanted to stay as far away from them as possible. The Anderson family was going to self-destruct any day now. They were a ticking time bomb and when the clock hit zero, it would be horrible. Every single Anderson had problems. Ron was full of anger and angst. When he wasn't faking a smile, he was lashing out before shutting down. Enid didn't need that aggravation. She didn't have the patience for it. Dealing with her own anger and angst was enough.

Pete and Jessie were far from a loving couple. People learned how to be in relationships from the ones around them. Enid didn't want to be in a relationship where Ron had learned from his parents' example, even if mustered up enough gumption to do the opposite. Pete and Jessie Anderson were a textbook case of domestic violence and the vicious cycle of abuse. Pete was the bully and Jessie was the punching bag. They were a toxic pair. They were a desperately unhappy pair. Their marriage was as dead as the endless mass of Chompers that roamed over and rotted underneath the earth. They were a walking Murder-Suicide pretending to be in love and Sam?

Honestly, he was the best of the bunch.

Sam Anderson was very immature for his age. He acted more like a 5-year-old than the 10-year-old he actually was but he wasn't a bad person. He was just emotionally stunted from being stuck with people who were too caught up in their own misery to look after him properly. The End had exacerbated the issues they all had and things got worse for them every day.

Jessie tried her best. She really did but it wasn't enough. Between constantly taking Pete's abuse and dealing with Ron's various issues, the blonde was at her breaking point. She was weak and desperate for someone, anyone to save her. She refused to save herself because she honestly felt like she couldn't. Pete had drilled that idea into her head over the years. He had broken her spirit.

It made sense given that he had certainly broken at least a third of her bones over the years.

Jessie babysat the Community's kids with Shelly Neidermeyer, who ran the ASZ's school. She threw herself into being the Den mother for Alexandria and as perfect of a housewife as she could be. Jessie also threw herself into making unique (ugly!) owl themed sculptures to cope with her misery so her youngest son slipped through the cracks.

Sam was very much on his own so he started seeking validation and protection from other Community residents with mixed results. Some coddled him and others told him to go away fast. Enid was one of the main people Sam reached out to. She didn't mind indulging him. She even let him help her out sometimes. Not for very long, because Sam could be a whining pain in the ass after a while, which she had little to no patience for, but he was a good kid who deserved better.

Enid couldn't save Sam from the absolute clusterfuck that his family was but she could be kind.

She could teach him about how The Fucked New World worked.

That was the best thing Enid could do for him. Knowledge was Power.

Ignorance may be bliss but it led to painful death nowadays. It couldn't be allowed.

Deanna and Reg knew all about the Andersons' ugly situation. Due to Pete being the only Alexandrian with full medical training, they decided to turn a blind eye for the sake of the Greater Good. That decision disgusted Enid to the Core. It made her sick! Having an alcoholic surgeon was worse than having no surgeon at all! Having an alcoholic surgeon who mistreated the family he was lucky enough to still have was completely unacceptable! What the hell were they thinking?

Fortunately for the sloppy, ungrateful son of a bitch, Enid wasn't the one in charge of the ASZ.

If she was, then Pete would've been sent packing or just shot dead like the dog he was ages ago.

Overall, her assessment of The Monroes being genuinely good people in charge of things still stood but Enid would never trust them fully. Their permissive attitude towards Pete's bullshit set an unspoken Community rule that she took full advantage of: If someone had a skill that nobody else had, they could do whatever they wanted, sans murder, without getting kicked out.

With that in mind, Enid had taken the time to become Alexandria's main farmer and sole beekeeper. Now, they couldn't kick her out. She could still leave if she wanted to, though.

The beekeeping had been an accident. Enid had stumbled upon four large hives while cleaning out the house she had moved into after healing physically. The Monroes had tried to convince her to keep living above the Pantry but she wanted her own space. She wanted and deserved to have some privacy. Olivia was a nice person. Really, she was and she was easy to live with. However, Enid didn't want or need a babysitter. Enid could take care of herself and those around her easily. She didn't need a babysitter nor did she need another obstacle to get past when she had to make a run for it. Always having a clear escape route was critical to survival.

Instead of killing all of the bees, Enid had decided to relocate and nurture them. Not only was it a practical choice, it was a way to remember her father. Liam Mackenzie had been utterly fascinated by bees. He would always bring home fresh honey, beeswax, and royal jelly when he could. Bees made those and after harvesting them, the products could be used to help in so many ways. Bees were worth their weight in bullets. Finding the hives was good luck that needed to be capitalized on. Along with her fond memories, a Run to a library had given Enid the information she needed to do it right and three more to various hardware stores had given her the supplies to get started.

After building and connecting five large sheds, Enid had transferred the bees into the hives she had assembled. It had taken a while (and lots of stings! So many stings!), but Alexandria's Apiary was stable and starting to thrive. There were currently eight hives with both in and outdoor plants to support them. According to Enid's research, the best time to harvest was between late July and up to the middle of September so soon, she would begin to reap the rewards of her hard work.

The apiary was her domain. Nobody else was brave enough to try to help her out with it, not that she would've let them. Beekeeping was her way of meditating, her special quiet time. Enid didn't want that sense of serenity ruined nor did she want her work destroyed by ignorance or malice.

The farming had started as a way to remember her mother.

Madeline Mackenzie used to grow herbs, flowers, fruit, and vegetables for farmer's markets. Enid used to help her out all the time and make local deliveries. She had never forgotten the lessons she had been taught. Enid had started out with fresh herbs to help with Olivia's pickling and smoking efforts while planting flowers to help the bees produce what was needed. After finding a gardening book in the Monroe House filled with detailed instructions for large scale agricultural projects, Enid had decided to go All In. Crops needed to be planted sooner rather than later.

So much time had been wasted. The Alexandrians should have started planting as soon as the Walls were up. Someone had to step up and get it done. Enid had enlisted Reg Monroe's help in designing the garden's layout. After settling on it and choosing the best place for it in the Community (smack dab in the middle), the construction crew had helped her with fencing and plowing rows.

Other Community members would pitch in for easy parts, like building boxes, pulling weeds or watering plants but like the apiary, the garden was her responsibility at the end of the day.

Enid had asked Heath and his Crew to bring her the things she needed to keep going and they did. She still made solo Runs on occasion. Olivia would help her out with maintenance after she was done working in the Pantry. Aaron and Eric Raleigh would help between their Recruiting trips.

Of all of the Alexandrians she had to live with, Enid liked Aaron and Eric best. They were smart and kind. They weren't weak. They were still a bit naïve but they weren't weak. They were strong and they were an excellent couple, despite the shit people gave them for being so openly loving.

Some of the Alexandrians were hateful and stupid. The sort of ideas they spewed like bloody diarrhea had carried over from The Old World. Homophobia, Racism, Classism, Sexism...none of it should matter anymore. It hadn't mattered to sensible people before The End but it certainly shouldn't matter to anyone now.

They had much bigger fish to fry. All that mattered at the end of the day was who was Strong and who was Weak, who was Useful and who was Chomper Chow.

Most of all, it was critical to know who was an asshole and who wasn't.

Other than how to take down Chompers, knowing that was the most important information.

"...w-what's going on?"

Enid turned off the electric drill she was using and saw people looking towards the Gate. Some braver ones were already walking towards it and she could hear vehicles entering Alexandria slowly. Had Aaron and Eric finally made it back? Were they hurt? Did they find new people to bring in? They had been gone for almost a week and after the nasty but needed thunderstorm that had blown through, Enid had been ready to go looking for them. Had someone found them? If so, were the someones good or bad? Had they been taken hostage? Were they Turned and roaming around? If they were, they needed to Put Down and not everyone had the skill or stomach to do it. Aaron and Eric were genuinely good people. They didn't deserve to roam...

Enid set the drill down and took off running. Her mother's knife was sheathed on her right thigh. A small machete was sheathed at the small of her back and she wore brass knuckles on her gloved hands. Sam followed until she stopped abruptly at the T-shaped intersection 5 blocks away, making him run into the back of her. Enid steadied him before turning him to the right, giving him a light shove to get him moving.

"Enid?"

"Go home. Hide there and keep quiet until we know what's going on. Find your mom."

"But, Enid..."

"I said go home and hide, Sam. Do not follow me."

The last thing Enid needed was someone getting in her way if there was a threat to be handled. Although she had laid both literal and figurative roots in Alexandria, Enid hadn't forgotten the Vow she made. She was still ready. Enid was still strong and if she had to fight, she would win.

She would win or take the threat with her.

Stopping in an alleyway, Enid watched as Aaron and Eric led a group of exhausted people towards the Monroe House. There were 14 of them of various ages and races and was that a baby?

They had a baby with them!

The baby was napping in the arms of a man who looked like Moses. There was a gorgeous black woman with long dreadlocks walking next to Moses. She was helping a tall black boy with a hurt ankle walk and she had an actual fucking katana on her back. She was a Samurai! Was she Moses' wife? His lover? His best friend? She was definitely his Second in Command, rightfully so.

The brunette supermodel and the Asian man behind them were definitely married. Their left hands were entwined and they had wedding rings on. Making up the rest of the new Group were a man with a mullet, a Hell's Angel with a crossbow, a BAMF grandma with a Joan Jett haircut, a Nirvana fan complete with a flannel shirt, an Army Barbie, an Army Sniper, a Priest in all black, a big red giant that looked straight out of The Hurt Locker and...

A boy in an actual fucking cowboy hat stopped in the middle of the street and tensed. Who wore cowboy hats outside of what used to be Texas? What the hell was that all about? Enid's pounding heart slammed into the back of her throat as his head started to turn towards the alley and she moved just in time. None of the others had noticed her but he had. Why?

"Carl? You okay?"

"...yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

The boy continued on but Enid knew that he was glancing back at her hiding place. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she found the loose far corner panel and nudged it aside just enough for her to slip through. She needed to clear her head before taking her afternoon nap.

Running would do that.

/

"I found this in the house. Is it yours?"

"No, that's Enid's."

"Who's Enid?"

"She's our age. She came in last September. She didn't talk for a month but now, she farms and does stuff with bees. She'll show up looking for it and the rest of her stuff soon. Just keep it."

"I can take it to her. It sounds like she's busy."

"She always is. If you want to go and bug her, be my guest. I'm gonna go get some lemonade. Mikey, you want anything while I'm downstairs?"

"No, I'm good."

16-year-old Carl Grimes' brow furrowed as Ron left the room, stomping down the stairs. Apparently, he had just said something wrong. Either that or these Alexandrians were even weirder than he thought. No, that wasn't fair. The Alexandrians weren't weird. They were just normal. It was like the world had never changed for them. Most, if not all of them, had been behind the Walls from the beginning and it definitely showed. They weren't scared. They felt totally secure behind their Walls and Carl both envied and pitied them for it.

They were in for a very rude awakening.

A part of him wanted to be the one to wake them up, to make them see, but a larger part was just happy that Alexandria was real. It didn't feel like Terminus. Deanna and Reg Monroe weren't like The Governor. There were actual houses with running water. There was food and weapons here. When he had turned in his gun to follow the rule, he had glimpsed one hell of an arsenal. Carl didn't agree with the 'no guns behind the Walls' rule. At least they could keep their blades but he still didn't like it.

Yes, knives and other blades could work well. Michonne and her katana had proven that fact tenfold. It was still a really bad idea to cut people off from their best defense, even in the name of order. Although, what happened at The Prison proved that even guns could be useless if the people attacking were strong enough, ruthless enough, evil enough...

"Don't mind him. Ron's just...he likes Enid. A lot. A really whole lot but she's not into him. He knows that and he's pissed off about it. Ron wants her to change for him, which is bullshit. Enid's doing fine as she is. She still doesn't talk to a lot of people and when she hangs with us or with the others, she doesn't stay for long unless she's reading one of her books."

"How come?"

"She usually says that she has work to do but she was all by herself when she came up to the Gate last year. No parents or Group so she's been through hell. Maybe she feels like she shouldn't get close to anyone because it would hurt too much if she lost them. That makes sense, doesn't it?"

"It does. I'm gonna go now. I need to check on my sister."

"Okay. It was nice to meet you, Carl. I hope you and your family get to stay here."

"So do I. See you later."

"Bye."

Carl left the Anderson house and heaved a big sigh of relief as he got away. Jessie, Ron, and Sam were all right but Pete made his skin crawl. There was something more to the man, something sinister like The Governor. Even when he laughed and joked around, his eyes stayed dead. Carl also smelled alcohol fumes coming from his skin despite it being pretty early in the day. He remembered the scent being on Bob during his early days at The Prison and on Shane towards the end of their time on The Farm. Abraham had started to smell like it while they were on the journey towards D.C. The smell only showed up when people chugged booze like water on the regular.

But wasn't Pete supposed to be the Community's doctor? Eric said that he was and he kept a fully stocked Red Cross duffel bag in his living room. Why the fuck was Pete chugging booze like water if he was the Community's doctor? That wasn't good. Also, the way that his family looked at him? The way that they flinched before and after he touched them? That wasn't good at all.

Carl's gut instincts were screaming at him to get away from the Andersons and to keep Judith far away from them. Pete may be the bad one but the others were too weak and sheltered to look after her. They couldn't even take care of themselves properly. They would definitely get her killed.

Jessie had offered to babysit but Carl would make sure that his dad didn't let her or any other Alexandrians do so. All of them were too weak and naïve. Until they got stronger (or were killed), Carl would continue to watch Judith or let one of their Group members do it. People like Maggie or Daryl. That way he could be sure that Judith would be as safe as the world allowed her to be.

Just because they were behind Walls now didn't mean that they didn't need to be careful.

Noah's Community had been behind Walls. The Prison had Walls and Fences but...

Carl's dreams were haunted by the sight of his sister's empty and bloody pink carrier. He was still tortured by that feeling of certain loss. His sister had been blown apart by the tank or Devoured by Walkers because he hadn't been there to protect her. Along with that lingering demon, Carl had nightmares about Gareth and the Termites eating her like they did to Bob's leg. All of his nightmares involved his sister, father, Michonne, his whole Group dying painfully and him being helpless to do anything to help them.

They had lost Amy, Jim, and Jacqui. They had lost Dale, Patricia, Merle, and Andrea. Shane had gone crazy and had to be killed so his father and the rest of the Group could keep living. His mother had died in childbirth and Carl had to be the one to Put Her Down. The Governor had murdered Axel and Oscar. They had lost Hershel right in front of their eyes, cruelly executed by The Governor. All of the Woodbury Citizens they had taken in were dead, lost either to the mass sickness that had infected the Prison or to The Governor's Last Stand. They had lost the Kids of the Prison like Luke, Molly, and Lizzie and Mika Samuels. They had just lost Bob, Beth, and Tyreese back to back to back, unable to help any of them.

So many people were Gone!

Carl didn't want to lose anyone else.

With the world being like it was now, Carl knew that death could and would return to his Group. It was inevitable but couldn't they have a break for a while? He was sick of burying people he loved. He was sick of having funerals and then having to go kill the assholes, Living or Dead, who had taken his friends away. He was sick of the world always trying to destroy them, destroy his sister...

Judith was alive. They had found her. Carol and Tyreese had kept her alive. Against all the odds, Judith was still alive and Carl was determined to be a better big brother to her. He wasn't going to let other people take care of and protect her like he used to. She deserved way better than that. Judith deserved to have a big brother who she could count on to always be there to protect her, especially when the shit hit the fan. She deserved to not just Survive but to Live.

Judith deserved to have a chance to grow up and be happy, just like he used to be. She deserved to have birthday parties and pizza and to have an actual childhood. His dad would hold his hand and walk with him when he was a toddler. When he did so, Carl felt like nothing could hurt him because his dad was right there. He felt safe and like he could do anything, be anything.

Carl wanted that feeling of safety for Judith.

He wanted to give that gift to her more than anything.

Helping Michonne and Aaron convince his dad to come here was a good first step but...

His dad was holding Michonne's hand.

They were sitting on their new house's porch swing. Judith was playing with a new pair of Dixie cups in Michonne's lap and Rick Grimes was holding her hand. He had shaved his beard off and taken a shower while waiting for Michonne to finish her Interview with Deanna Monroe. Carl met him on the sidewalk and he had seen the way they looked at each other when Michonne came outside. Judith had immediately reached for her and Michonne had taken her, kissing her brow tenderly before drawing him into a tight hug. Carl had been grateful for it.

His Interview had gone well but left him feeling raw. Talking about what they had been through lately, telling Deanna about what happened to his mom...he had needed the hug badly. His dad had removed his Hat and kissed the crown of his head before putting his arms around all of them.

Nearby Alexandrians and their Group had watched them and Carl knew what they were seeing.

In their eyes, the four of them looked like a family. They certainly felt like one.

Lately, his dad followed Michonne like he was her shadow and vice versa. They were talking about something right now and Michonne's smile was soft. His dad blushed and smiled back at her, twining their fingers together. Michonne looked down at their hands and nodded to herself before giving the swing a nudge to put it back in motion, making Judith squeal happily.

Were they...if they were, that would be amazing! After everything that happened with his mother and Shane, his dad and Michonne getting together would be perfect. Michonne was awesome. She was his best friend and kept his dad mostly sane. She kept all of them mostly sane. She came up with the best ideas to keep them on track and somewhat happy.

Michonne was the heart of The Group after Glenn. She would be perfect for anyone who wanted her but Carl was hoping that she would choose his dad to be her boyfriend. They made sense. Not to mention that if she made his dad her boyfriend, it would make them an official family.

In his heart, Carl had considered Michonne to be a part of the Grimes family for a long time. Everything that happened after The Prison cinched it. She was his stepmom and best friend. Judith knew her as her mother. Michonne held them all together. The four of them were good together, stronger and happier. Maybe his dad was catching up with the facts. He hoped so.

Knowing his dad and Michonne, if they thought he wouldn't be okay with them being a couple, then they wouldn't even bother trying so Carl would have to set the record straight with them.

He would take care of that before the end of the day. Right now, he had a comic to return.

Carl was really glad that he wasn't seeing ghosts like his dad used to after Lori Grimes passed away. When they were walking into the Community, he had felt someone watching them from an alleyway. They had been well hidden but Carl was hyperaware of his surroundings, despite being bone tired. He had to be. Before he could get a good look at them, they slipped away. Tara had asked if he was okay before he could follow and not wanting to alarm anyone, he had said yes.

The someone had probably been Enid.

Turning a corner, Carl stopped. In front of him was large fenced yard with an open gate. The tall fence was made of wrought iron and sheet metal panels. The open gate was made of the same tarp covered chain link fencing and heavy metal that the main Gate was. Entering, Carl was reminded of the garden that had been at the Prison, only much, much bigger.

There were wooden boxes of vegetables and fruits in various stages of growth. A plot of dirt was surrounded by white picket fencing and a large sign read: 'PUMPKIN PATCH COMING SOON...HOPEFULLY', making him snort. Carl could see cabbage, lettuce, and the tops of carrots in some boxes. He smelled onions and garlic, along with lavender and mint. Apples trees were blooming and in the sunniest areas there were lemon trees in large pots. Tomatoes and sugar snap peas climbed trellises. There were strawberries growing in large wicker containers, their leaves spilling out in every direction. The garden was amazing. Had Enid put it together all by herself? Likely not but Carl was sure that the lion's share of the work had been done by her.

Behind the yellow single-story with a basement house's backyard were 4 plowed and fenced off fields with their own heavy, tarp covered gates. A small tractor-plow and a green pickup truck were parked nearby. Each gate had a sign with a picture labelling what they were. If he had to guess, two of the fields were corn and potatoes. Carl wasn't sure what the rest were. The grain in the ground looked like wheat but it was too dark. Maggie and Eugene would definitely know. He would ask them later. Bunches of lavender were hanging to dry on the enclosed porch and there was another porch swing wedged in the left corner. Porch swings were everywhere, it seemed.

Reassuring Carl was the red boxing bag hanging on the right side and the jump rope draped over a weightlifting bench. Barbells, several free weights and a bright pink medicine ball was next to it. There was also a chin up bar that could be attached to wherever she wanted it to be. Carl recognized all of the equipment because his dad and Shane used to work out in the garage together before everything changed. Enid wasn't just a farmer and a beekeeper. She was a fighter. She had taught herself how to fight and kept herself ready for anything. That was good.

She was one less Alexandrian that they would have to protect and teach things to.

Walking further, Carl saw all sorts of pretty flowers in bloom and heard the buzzing of bees. A few of them were hovering near the sunflowers and roses. A large rolling container full of farming tools was next to a white wooden bench. There were several stacks of fertilizer, mulch, and wooden pallets behind them. Five sheds like he used to see at hardware stores were the furthest away, shaded by oak trees. They had their own fence and tarp covered gate. The five sheds been connected into one. Was that where the bees were kept? Was that where the honey was?

Looking around and not seeing any sign of human life, Carl decided to try the house.

The bottom stair creaked underneath his foot and Enid was immediately in the doorway, ready to defend herself. Her raised fists were covered by black leather fingerless gloves and brass knuckles, even as she napped. She also slept with a knife. Carl ignored the urge to smile at her. He didn't know if doing so would make her attack him. Everybody had their Triggers and a smile could be one for her. He didn't know if that was true in her case but Carl did know that had respect for her already. Enid was definitely someone who knew how to survive with and without Walls.

"Who the hell are you? Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

Her voice was soft with the promise of power and she sounded like she was from the Midwest.

"Hi, Enid. I'm sorry for waking you up."

"That's mine."

She was pointing at the comic and he held it out to her immediately.

"I found it in the house. Ron and Mikey told me it was yours so I wanted to give it back."

"...thanks. Did you like it?"

"It was really good. Kind of confusing in places but really good."

"It's the ninth one in a series of 20. I have them all. You gotta read the rest so you can get it."

Enid came outside and sat down on the top step, sizing him up. She had celery colored eyes and she squinted against the sunlight before yawning loudly. Her gray combat boots were dirt stained with doubled knotted black laces. She had on a pair of dark wash jeans and one of those blue sleeveless button-up tops that his mother used to wear all the time. A large red bowling jacket was tied around her waist and her honey colored hair was pulled into a low side ponytail. Slowly, Enid took her knife and stabbed it deep into the railing. The blade left a crack in the white wood and Carl was impressed by the detail on the hilt as she twisted it slowly.

"Cool knife."

She flipped it into the palm of her hand and sighed wistfully as she looked down at it.

"It was my mom's. Pass me my comic book, please. Thank you. You got a name, Scarecrow?"

"My name is Carl. Carl Grimes."

"Hello, Carl Grimes. You already know my name. How old are you?"

"I'm 16. How old are you?"

"I turned 17 last month. It's July 19th."

"It is?"

"According to Olivia and Spencer's calendars, yeah."

"Then I'm 17, too. My birthday was on June 27th."

"June 11th. I'm from what used to be Michigan. I hear Deep South in your voice."

"You should because I'm from what used to be Georgia."

"Are you for real?"

"Most of my Group lived in and around Atlanta before everything went to shit. Noah's from around here. Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene are from Texas. Houston, I think."

"Wow. Most folks nowadays can't even make it across the street safely much less all the way up here from Georgia and Texas. Good job, Sport. If I had a gold star handy, I would give it to you."

Carl chuckled and her lips curved upwards in the faintest of smiles. He had made her smile!

After stretching and yawning again, Enid grabbed her things and headed for the front door.

"...you knew my first name already because you were in the alley watching us. I saw you."

She froze in the doorway but didn't turn back around.

"I saw you, Enid. You were there. You were. Don't lie to me."

"...I was there because I had to make sure that your Group weren't a bunch of assholes."

"What do you think of us so far?"

"The jury's still out. You just got here, after all. Go on home and make yourself look spiffy. The Monroes are gonna be hosting a welcome party for you guys tonight. Any excuse to get everyone crammed in a room like sardines together and they'll take it with both hands. I guess it's part of how they cope with how fucked everything is. The food will be good. The music will suck dick."

"Will you be there, too?"

Her reply was a hastily slammed and locked door. Carl laughed and walked away, shaking his head. Enid wasn't as nice as the rest of the Alexandrians he had met so far. A strong case could made for her being downright rude, especially with the nickname she had chosen for him, but she was real. What she said was what she meant. What you saw was what you got.

He liked that.

/

"Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?"

"No. Where's Carl?"

"Who?"

"Carl Grimes. New kid. Southern, skinny, nice with questionable taste in headgear? Where is he?"

"Why do you want to know where he is? What's going on?"

"Ron, do you know where he is or not? If not, can you go get someone who does?"

"...he's in the guest room watching his little sister. She just learned how to crawl."

"Thank you. Try the salad. It's really good. The squirrel jerky gives it a nice kick. Sup, Mikey?"

"Hi, Enid. Come on, man. Aiden brought back more games. He's got the PS2 on downstairs."

"No, thanks. I'm gonna go check on my mom and Sam. See if they're ready to go yet."

Enid rolled her eyes after Ron left the kitchen in a snit. She hadn't been to one of the Monroe parties since she found the gardening book. Now, she remembered why. Being surrounded by so many people, people who had absolutely no clue about what the world was really like now had been like listening to nails being scratched on a thousand chalkboards.

Who cared if someone needed their braces off? Who cared about pasta makers or mostly dead cellphones? What did any of that matter when they were surrounded by danger? The naivety was just too much, not to mention all of the looks she got, the sad whispers in her wake. Poor little orphan girl, all by herself and so angry. God, it was like she was made of ice. She would look at you and let you see just how disgusted she was. She didn't even say hello when approached. It was always 'what do you want?' or even just 'what?'

It was such a shame because she was really pretty and damned good at farming. If she would just learn to relax and open up, then maybe she would be able to have a good life like they did.

All of them could take their "concern" and fuck right off!

Enid didn't want or need their pity and judgement. They were the ones who needed to be pitied. They were the ones who needed to be judged. Just about every person in Alexandria was nothing but a sheep waiting to be slaughtered. It was only a matter of time and...

"Be careful, Enid."

"Why?"

"Because of Ron. He's my friend, don't get me wrong, but there is something that's just not right inside of him. He's on the edge and I don't want him to come after you when he loses it."

"I'm not his mom and he's not his piece of shit sperm donor. No one hurts me and gets to walk away. When it hits the fan and splatters everywhere, I'll be fine or I'll go down swinging."

"I know you will. I just wanted to warn you anyway because you're my friend, too."

"...you're good, Mikey. Don't let The Fucked New World and this place's bullshit ruin that."

"I'll try."

The Monroe House's guest room was upstairs at the end of the hallway. When Enid stopped in the doorway, she felt what was left of her heart soften. Carl's sister was speed crawling now, babbling joyfully. She had on a pink dress, black tights, and a pair of gray Mary Janes that matched her hooded teddy bear sweater. Carl was on the carpeted floor playing with her, following her closely without interfering with her progress. His Stetson was off and his mahogany hair was falling into his eyes, eyes that were the same color of his flannel shirt.

The periwinkle flannel was layered over the gray thermal he had been wearing earlier and he had on different jeans than before, black instead of dark wash. His brown boots were tied tightly but Enid could tell that they were two different shoes. There was also duct tape in strategic places but the soles were solid. He really could use a new pair of shoes, though...

The baby was heading straight for the door and Enid immediately sat down to block her exit. She didn't want to risk the baby falling down the stairs. That wouldn't be good. Enid set aside the gray document pouch she held just in time. A surprised huff of laughter escaped her as the baby boldly crawled into her lap. She didn't even hesitate.

Not only that but the baby grabbed two fistfuls of her beige sweater and leveraged herself up, getting right in her face. Big hazel eyes looked at her with no fear and her triumphant grin was broad, showing off a few teeth and nubs that would be teeth.

Before she could stop herself, Enid returned the gesture and gave the happy baby a squeeze. She smelled like soap, applesauce, and baby powder. Carl's little sister was absolutely fucking precious. She looked like the Gerber baby or a little blonde cherub come to life. She was also a very good sign regarding the Grimes Group's overall dynamic. Bad Groups never took good care of babies, kids, the injured, or the elderly. Even if they were blood family, in a bad Group, anyone who was seen as a burden was left behind or sacrificed as soon as possible.

The Grimes Group wasn't like that. They were good people. They were strong and smart.

"Judith, come back here."

The baby's response was fascinated cooing and gentle tugging at Enid's necklace.

"Judith..."

"Don't worry about it, Carl. She's fine where she is."

"Are you sure? I can take her if you need me to."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Hi, Judith. You're mobile now, huh? You gonna help fuck some shit up?"

"Probably. Her nickname is actually Lil' Asskicker."

"Are you for real?"

"Yeah. Daryl came up with it when we were at The Prison."

A Prison? They had been in a Prison? How had they gotten in without being killed and why did they leave? Who and what had made them leave such a good stronghold?

"I like it. It gives her a good goal to strive for...yeah, so I was looking for you downstairs."

"Why?"

"I told you earlier. You read the ninth one. There's 20 so you have to read all of them. I'm re-reading the other half but I brought you the first half so you can like it and understand it. Here."

Enid nudged the document pouch forward with her boot and Carl accepted it shyly, making her purse her lips against another smile. Apparently, Judith didn't have a monopoly on being precious.

That was both good and bad to know.

"Thank you."

"Don't lose any of them and don't bend the corners while you read. That's the worst."

"I know, right? Michonne likes comics, too. Is it okay if I share these with her?"

"She's the pretty lady with the katana, right?"

"Yeah. She's awesome. She's my best friend and Judith loves her."

"Is she your stepmom?"

"She asked my dad to be her boyfriend earlier and he said yes so I think she will be eventually."

"Cool. I think Judith wants to get moving again. I'll guard the door. You two have fun."

"...thank you, Enid."

"You're welcome."

/

The Next Morning...

"We just got here and Slim already has himself a girlfriend. That's some good work right there."

"Who?"

"The angry farmer girl. She showed up to last night's festivities looking like a walking middle finger but after she spent some time with your boy and Lil' Asskicker upstairs, she was glowing like a firefly. Plus, she shared her comic books with him. That's as huge as horse dick."

Everyone looked at him expectantly but Carl continued feeding Judith. She needed to eat and the oatmeal that Carol had made was delicious, which was saying something. Carl hated oatmeal. He always had but after being so hungry On the Road, having it to eat was amazing. Having oatmeal and options that weren't dog or rain water was amazing.

He was sharing a bowl with Judith but made sure that she got most of it. His sister needed the food more than he did. She was crawling like a champ already and with crawling came walking, then running. She needed all the nutrition and energy she could get and...

"Carl?"

He sighed and replied, "Enid was just being nice."

"Scuttlebutt says that nice ain't a part of her DNA. She's more like Wednesday Addams than Strawberry Shortcake so you must've made a hell of a good impression on her. I'm proud of you, kid. Do you need The Talk? Some rubbers from the Infirmary?"

"Anybody getting The Talk from you needs to do the exact opposite, you big red pendejo."

"You wound me deeply, Ms. Espinosa!"

"Not deep enough. You're still talking."

Carl grinned as Rosita and Abraham continued their playful bickering, thankful that she had stepped in. One of the problems in their Group was the lack of privacy. Being so close was key to Survival but sometimes, there needed to be boundaries. He didn't really mind the teasing but he knew that eventually his dad, Michonne, or someone close to him like Glenn would be looking for answers. Carl didn't have them yet and he deserved the time needed to figure things out.

How did he feel about Enid?

Obviously, he liked her. Carl knew when he had a crush on someone. He had felt those feelings for Sophia, Beth, and Lizzie before it became clear that she was the bad kind of crazy. He was definitely feeling that but in a deeper way. There was something about Enid that drew him in. She was strong, stronger than the majority of the Alexandrians, but she was fragile.

There was deep hurt inside of her, a hurt that he recognized in himself. Bad things had happened to her, too. If anything, whatever happened to her was worse than what happened to him because she had been all alone during and after the trouble. At least he hadn't been alone. Even when things were at their absolute worst, Carl had someone with him to protect him and to help him heal. Not Enid. What had happened to her?

Who had happened to her?

Carl wouldn't ask, no matter how much he wanted to. The hurt Enid felt was too big to put into words right now. He understood so he wouldn't push her. She would talk about it when she was ready to talk about it and not a second before. Besides, Carl knew full and damned well that if he pushed her, she would definitely push back and it would hurt like a bitch.

Firm knocking on the yellow side door broke through his reverie and everybody tensed up. A lot of Alexandrians had shown up to drop off supplies and to introduce themselves but it was instinct to tense. Just because they were behind Walls now didn't mean that assholes couldn't get inside of them or weren't already living inside of them. Pete Anderson was a good example of that. Seeing his dad, Daryl and Michonne move, he stood up to join them. They fought best together and...

"Enid?"

Carl stepped forward and opened the door for her, blocking her way inside.

"Good morning, Carl. Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Grimes. Sup, Hell's Angel. Here."

A large shoebox was thrust into his arms and Carl looked between it and her with wide eyes.

"If you don't like them, pay them forward and I'll find you a better pair when I go out again."

"You didn't have to do this."

"I don't do anything that I don't want to do. You need new boots for winter because if your feet aren't protected right, you end up dead faster. Carl, your parents need you to live. Judith needs you to live. Your whole Group needs you to live so quit arguing with me, take the goddamned fucking boots, and say thank you, Enid."

Usually, if someone spoke to him in such a bossy tone of voice and swore at him outside of a crisis, he wouldn't listen. He would shut down or he would do the exact opposite of what they wanted but in this case? Carl just shrugged and obediently tucked the black shoebox under his arm. It wasn't like she was wrong and like when she shared her comic collection, Enid was being nice to him in her own way. To ignore her reaching out to him would be rude and stupid.

If he didn't open up, then she wouldn't either and Carl didn't want that to happen.

He wanted them to be equals.

He wanted them to be friends.

"Thank you, Enid."

"You're welcome. Anybody in your Group who knows how to farm or wants to learn how should come over to my place around noon to help out with planting, watering, and weeding. Normally, I'd do it myself but it's time to start getting product out of the hives. I have to harvest, strain, and jar everything so I can start making stuff like soap and candles. I need help."

"Maggie knows how to farm. My dad does, too. He used to do it at the Prison."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. Later, Scarecrow. Merry Christmas."

"Wait!"

"What do you want?"

"Are you hungry? Carol made oatmeal and it's really good."

"...I could eat."

/

The plan had been to drop the boots off and get gone.

It was simple. Carl needed new shoes. Enid had seen the sizes on his mismatched pair, realized that they wore the same size and had decided to give him one of hers. It wasn't a loss at all. Enid had another pair of combat boots, a pair of green floral print high heeled boots she would likely never wear, and two pairs of black Converse high tops to go along with her current boots.

Feet were one of the most important body parts to protect from getting hurt, right up there with eyes and hands. If a person's feet weren't properly protected, if their shoes didn't have enough traction...Carl deserved better than to go out or get hurt like that. He was a good person and Enid wanted to help him stick around.

Carl Grimes was a genuinely good person.

Him not being in the world anymore would make it even more fucked than it already was.

Why she felt that way so soon after meeting him was anyone's guess.

Anyway, a task that had been supposed to take 5 minutes, maybe 10 at the most, had turned into 45 minutes and counting of her explaining just how she got the garden and apiary started while stuffing her face with the most amazing oatmeal. What did Carol put in it, magic?

It had also led to her getting vital information about Alexandria's new residents.

Rick and Michonne Grimes were definitely the LEADERs of their Group but they were far from tyrants. Everyone got a say in decisions and everyone was important. Yes, Carl and Judith were their top priorities, rightfully so since they were their blood and step family, but Enid knew that every member of their Group was considered to be part of a whole. They were in this world together for the long haul. Rick and Michonne were strong, the strongest of them all, but the same organic type of goodness that she sensed in Carl came from them. Enid liked them.

Maggie was the brunette supermodel who could farm and Glenn was her husband. Both of them were genuinely kind and Glenn's optimism was refreshing to hear. They were good people and an excellent couple. Mullet Man's name was Eugene and he was pretty much a mad scientist. He was easily one of the most awkward people she had ever met but he was intelligent, making him more of an asset than a liability in the long term, even with his lingering cowardice.

Carol who had made the glorious oatmeal was the BAMF grandma of the Group or more like the BAMF aunt. Stress and lots of sadness made her look older than she actually was. She wasn't to be fucked with, though. Underneath that shiny happy homemaker exterior was a Warrior. She had been through hell and back again but she was still standing tall. She hadn't given up yet.

Enid already respected her.

Hell's Angel's name was Daryl. He was gruff but warm and he knew how to hunt well. Enid would show him the main routes local game took at a later time, if he didn't figure them out on his own. His crossbow and various foraging skills had gotten the Grimes Group through many a jam. Army Barbie's name was Rosita and Big Red's name was Abraham. They were more than capable and provided a lot of comic relief, especially Big Red. Some of the phrases that came out of his mouth would've fit right in on an HBO stand-up comedy stage.

The Priest who had left after a particularly vivid word picture's name was Gabriel and he reeked of cowardice. He wasn't malicious but he was definitely scared and carrying a lot of guilt inside of him. Why? Enid didn't know but she was sure that a crisis of Faith was at the center of his inner turmoil. Gabriel was weak like many of the Alexandrians but if he had managed to survive after being On the Road for so long, then there was hope for him yet.

The Army Sniper who had headed for the Gate after cleaning her dish's name was Sasha and she was heartbroken, almost spirit broken. She had lost someone recently, likely more than one someone who had meant the world to her. While she was legitimately angry and prone to lashing out at people, Enid knew the truth about her. She lived that truth every day.

The same deep heartbreak was felt by Noah with the healing ankle. Carl mentioned that he was from around the area and he was only a year older than them. The fact that he wasn't with his family right now spoke volumes. They were either missing or Gone already. Nirvana fan's name was Tara. Like the rest of the Group, there was sadness inside of her but like Glenn, she had a refreshing sense of optimism and she was fucking hilarious. Tara did Runs with Glenn, Daryl and Noah. That was good. Enid had been thinking about joining a Crew or forming her own long before the Grimes Group arrived but her options had been less than ideal, to say the least.

Aaron and Eric could definitely get it done but they were already swamped.

Heath and his Crew were capable but they were a little too naïve for her tastes. They wouldn't get her killed or anything like that but she would have to spend a lot of time explaining The Order of Things. Doing so with Sam was one thing. He was 10 and on his own. Doing it with adults who should know better by now was not her cup of tea. Enid knew that she didn't have the patience and the last thing she wanted was to hurt their feelings. They were the Crew that got things done.

Aiden and Nicholas got people killed or injured. There had been 4 people lost on one Run recently and usually, somebody would come back hurt. The world they lived in was unpredictable and dangerous. Enid called it The Fucked New World for good reason. Any and everything bad could happen but there was only so much blame that the world could take on. Aiden Monroe was bold, brash, and more than a little stupid. Nicholas was the typical Yes Man and they were a recipe for disaster. Not to mention the way that Aiden looked at her sometimes made her skin crawl.

He was likely counting the days until she turned 18, if he even cared about that anymore.

Enid knew that she was the only viable option for pussy in his eyes. Everyone else in Alexandria was already taken, too old, too young, not pretty enough to be considered or related to him. That was a big part of Ron's fixation on her, too. Ron and his awful sperm donor...

"Do you guys have a doctor in your Group?"

"We used to. Why?"

"Because Pete's a piece of shit drunk bastard that's gonna drink himself to death or get stabbed before winter, that's why. Denise has medical training but she's a shrink, not a surgeon. She's also really shy. When she comes out to get more books to read, Pete makes sure to keep her away from the Infirmary and talk down to her because he's a dickhead. Having a drunk surgeon is worse than having no surgeon at all. You'd be better off letting a Chomper patch you up but the Monroes haven't accepted that yet. I hope they do before it's too late. We've got Denise and I know how to cut off limbs, do small stitches, fish out bullets, and catch a baby but if someone ever ends up needing real surgery, they're screwed. How are the boots, Carl? Are they okay?"

"They're awesome."

"Good. Thanks for breakfast everybody but I've got a lot of work to do."

"Hang on. I'll walk you home."

"I don't need you to do that."

"...I know. Dad, Michonne, I'm going out."

"All right. Be safe and have fun."

"Keep your guard up and be back before sundown."

"Okay, Dad."

/

"I had a bad feeling about Pete but I thought I was just being paranoid."

"Not this time, Sport. He's bad. Stay away from him."

"Does he...I know he drinks too much but is his family...does he hurt them?"

"All the time. It sucks but since he's the only doctor, he gets away with it. It's not fair."

"Carol's husband was like that. His name was Ed and he used to hit her and Sophia all the time."

"Sophia?"

"Carol's daughter. She was my best friend. We met after everything changed."

"How did she die? Was it Chompers or Humans?"

"Walkers. She got separated from us when a Herd came through the highway we were on. We tried to find her alive, we really did but she was Bit and she Turned. Dad had to Put Her Down."

"I'm sorry that happened to her."

"Me too. She deserved better."

"People will always die but that doesn't mean that it ever stops hurting."

"I wish it did."

"...Chompers ate my parents. They were trying to fix our SUV and two swarms came out of nowhere. Before I could even finish warning them, they were Gone. I couldn't help them."

Carl nodded solemnly and stretched his legs out, still relishing the feel of his new boots. They were camo green and steel toed with plenty of room. The black rubber soles were thick and had great traction. He could no longer feel every pebble, root, and twig try to poke through the bottom of his feet. Mud wasn't an issue, anymore. The laces were dark brown and the insides of the boots even had special massaging supporting insoles, making him feel as if he were walking on cushions.

Instead of going back to her place, Enid had decided to walk around the ASZ for a while. Carl had stopped briefly but when she gave him a confused look over her shoulder, he jogged to catch up with her. After about an hour, Enid had led him across an overgrown field of grass and had calmly pulled two pieces of L-shaped piping out of her backpack.

To his amazement, she began to use them as a moving ladder to scale the Walls. She slid the pipes inside of the columns and pulled herself up with ease. When Enid got to the top, she gave him another look before abruptly sliding out of sight.

Carl's heart had stopped at the sight and it took every bit of his control not to call out to her. Enid obviously knew what she was doing. She wouldn't have lasted an hour by herself if she didn't. He just needed to calm down and wait. Plus, if she landed wrong, Carl would've known by the ugly sound of breaking bones. Sure enough, after about 10 seconds, Enid started directing him towards a weak spot in the Walls via tapping. Once he had found the place, he had carefully slipped through and she had been waiting for him.

They walked and ran through the woods together, Enid leading the way. She had shown him a grove of trees with the leaves already turning in places. There was a barn similar to the one that Aaron found them by a small but deep river. Using an egg timer, they had baited several Walkers and she had taken one out with her mother's knife, thrown over her shoulder without looking.

The longer Carl knew her, the more convinced that Enid was a badass with a heart of gold.

God, she was so fucking cool!

The day had heated up and he tied his jacket around his waist, resisting the urge to offer it to her. After playing Follow the Leader for a while, he fell into step beside her and Enid's free hand brushed against his questioningly. Surprised but pleased, Carl accepted it immediately and twined their fingers together. Once the breeze picked up, he put his jacket back on. Once he was set, they had started running again afterwards, side by side with the wind blowing her hair everywhere.

Running with her was so much fun. It had been a long time since he felt so free and happy.

Enid wasn't wearing a pair of gloves or brass knuckles at the moment so he could feel just how soft her hands were. Even with the calluses from farming, they were still so soft. Enid's hand could fit in his with room to spare. Both of them could probably fit and Carl was struck by just how small she really was. Not to say that he was a giant but Enid had a personality and aura that felt much larger than she actually was.

Turning his head, Carl saw that she was watching him closely but he didn't feel uncomfortable. Enid was looking at him with curiosity, not judgement. There was a maple leaf caught in her hair and he gently removed it, passing it to her shyly. She accepted it and the lingering sadness in her verdant gaze, the raw heartbreak...

"What else happened to you? Before you got here?"

Carl had told himself not to push her earlier but he couldn't help it.

He wanted to know why she was so sad and if anything could be done to make her feel better.

He wanted to be her friend. Enid needed friends.

She was all alone, even behind Alexandria's Walls, and that just wasn't right.

"...it doesn't matter. Not anymore."

"It does. I know. Bad things have happened to me, too."

"Bad people, too?"

"Bad people first. Some of the worst people in the world."

"The Living are more dangerous than The Dead. Chompers will just eat or Turn you and go away. Humans will stay and have so much fun hurting you that you would let yourself get Eaten just to make the pain stop. It's not right or fair but it's how things are."

"Enid..."

The all too familiar sound of snarling wet moans had them on their feet, looking around warily.

"We need to go. It sounds like a lot."

It smelled like a lot, too. Walkers always smelled awful but when many would roam together, their combined scent was choking. Walkers smelled like every bad thing anyone could imagine.

Enid led him to a nearby hollow tree and they got inside of it quickly. Carl had to take his Hat off so he could fit better and she shifted closer to him. Her mother's knife was in her hand and she was shaking slightly as Walkers began to appear. Again, Carl felt the urge to give her his jacket but he ignored it in favor of watching the passing Herd closely. As long as they were quiet, it was likely that they would be ignored by the Walkers but Carl knew better than to drop his guard. It only took half a second for things to go wrong. One wrong step or decision and...

"It's their World. We're just living in it."

Although Enid's words were bitter, the wistfulness when she told him about her mother's knife was present. Looking at her, Carl could see tears threatening to spill out of her eyes. She was shaking harder and he wasn't sure if it was because of their close call or from something else. Slowly, Carl pulled her into a hug, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to. Shocking him to the bone, Enid immediately buried her face in his chest and held onto him.

It was like after his Interview with Deanna. Enid needed to feel safe. She was feeling raw and exposed. She was strong but she was still 17. She was only 17 and she had been through hell. A lot of people forgot that about her. Enid wanted people to forget that about her but he couldn't.

Carl couldn't forget anything about her if he tried.

Why he felt that way about her so soon after meeting her, he couldn't say but it was the truth.

The truth was still something to be cherished, even when it turned out to be sad and ugly.

After a minute, he tried to pull away but Enid held on tighter, shaking her head.

"Don't let go."

Nodding, he carefully moved them backwards and when the tree held his weight, relaxed.

They would be there for a while and that didn't bother him at all.

Carl was willing to hug Enid for as long as it took for her to start feeling better.

She needed it.

When was the last time someone had hugged her?

When was the last time someone had listened to her feelings without judging her?

Her trembling fingers slid through his hair and he leaned into the touch, wanting more of it.

Enid made him feel better, too. She helped remind him that there was still good in the world.

"You're gonna be okay, Enid."

"...you don't know that. No one knows that."

"I hope you'll be okay."

A long beat of silence and then, "I hope you'll be okay, too, Carl. You deserve that."

/

Two Weeks Later...

Fear was an emotion that she was used to feeling now.

Fear had kept her alive and smart.

Fear was something to push through to make her stronger, to keep her ready for anything.

Anything except for Carl Grimes, apparently.

"Damn it."

Enid sighed and turned onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Instead of using the rooms on the main level, Enid used the basement as her living space. The basement was finished. It had a kitchenette with a large bathroom attached. There was also a second exit that led directly to the backyard that she barricaded. She used the main level for her projects, indoor workouts, and for her afternoon naps. Once she and Carl had gotten back safe, Enid had told him that she had work to do, wanting to get away from him. He had looked at her for a long time before his lips quirked in something that looked like a smile but wasn't.

He had simply nodded and headed home, leaving her staring after him.

Her heart had screamed at her to follow him but she ignored it.

She needed to stay away from him. She needed get her mind right.

Carl didn't push her when he saw her. They saw each other at The Pantry or by the gazebo that he liked to sit on top of. He didn't bring up what had happened between them. He didn't tell any of his Group members or his parents about it. Enid knew that because none of them had confronted her about it. Carl didn't ask what their interlude meant. He didn't try to convince her to hang out or to let him save her. He gave her all the space she needed, the hug that she...

Giving up on going back to sleep, Enid swung her legs over the side of her bed and went upstairs. She didn't need to turn any lights on or light a candle to get around. She could get by on her own.

After all the shit that happened to her, she had no choice but to learn how do so.

Enid hadn't been hugged by anyone since before her parents died. She had spent so much time on her own afterwards that she had become fiercely protective of her personal space. Anyone could be hiding a weapon on them. Anyone could be waiting to knock her out, stab her, or gun her down to take what little resources she had. Anyone could be looking to cop a feel or to try and force themselves on her. Pretty Young Thing, all by herself, no parents or Group in sight? To some out there and inside of Alexandria, it made her the ripest, juiciest target.

After all, the world needed to be repopulated. She should be willing to do her part and god knows with that shitty attitude of hers, she could use a good, hard...

Shaking her head, Enid sat down in the grass, gazing up at the night sky.

Even though it was partially covered by clouds, the full moon was still bright and beautiful.

Carl treated her like she was a person, not a conquest or a lost soul that needed saving.

He had been shy while reaching for her. He touched her like she was made of glass. He didn't want anything from her. He just wanted to try and make her feel better. They had been talking about heavy things before the Chompers came. Enid had said more than she meant to. He knew that. Carl understood her so letting him hug her, letting him touch her felt good. It felt right. Interacting with Carl and his Group felt right. Enid wasn't sure what to think about that. She was definitely scared, though. She knew that for sure. Carl scared the living shit out of her. What he represented, how he already made her feel scared her and now, she had a decision to make.

Would she face the fear or would she run away?

Nothing was really keeping her in Alexandria. Yes, she was a farmer and a beekeeper but that could be done anywhere. She had made connections with people but none deep enough for her to miss them when they were gone. There were more humans around. There were other Communities out there. There had to be. She could join them. They would be lucky to have her. Not only could she fight, she could grow things. That made her invaluable.

If joining another Community or Group didn't work out, she could go back to being nomadic. Her survival skills were top shelf. She could make it on her own.

However, Enid had created an identity for herself by being strong. Enid was known to take nobody's shit and to never ever back down from a challenge. Would she really let herself be culled by Feelings? After facing down Chompers and various kinds of assholes with little to no fear, would she really let a teenage crush make her run away like a coward? Having a crush on Carl could prove to be a problem but it wasn't the end of the world. Why was she acting like it was? Why was she being so melodramatic and...

The garden's locked gate rattled and she unsheathed her mother's knife. What the fuck? It was past 3 in the morning. What the hell was anyone doing up and walking around at 3 in the morning? The gate rattled harder and Enid stood as the sound of someone about to scale the fence replaced it. What was going on? Coming to the fence, she watched as a pink bedsheet rope was thrown over and as soon as the person landed heavily on the ground, Enid made her move.

She grabbed the intruder by the throat and the moonlight revealed their identity.

Sam Anderson was looking at her with wide eyes that were already spilling over with tears.

Not only was he terrified because she was pointing a blade in his face but because he had dropped his duffel bag of tools. Enid saw a lighter, cans of spray paint, toilet paper and a crowbar inside of it. Rage burned like acid in her veins. Going after his mother's sculptures was one thing. The owls were ugly and made way too much noise when the wind blew. Were they supposed to be wind chimes? If they were, then they didn't work because the racket they made wasn't even close to pretty. The owls were truly awful and Sam destroying them was honestly a public service.

Whatever he planned to do to the garden, to the bees? Was unacceptable. It was unforgiveable. Sam would damage or destroy one of Alexandria's primary sources of food. A person, a Community, couldn't survive without food. It had taken so much time and effort to get everything right. Enid had worked too hard for too damned long for his bullshit to ruin everything. Okay, Sam's actions were actually a cry for help and attention but in the current context, it was bullshit.

Having something happen to the crops and bees because of outside invaders or a drought would suck but it would be okay in the end. She could adapt to those situations easily. Enid wasn't sure if this would be okay in the end. She was not only angry at the attempted sabotage but very hurt. Of all the people that Sam could've lashed out at, people who actually deserved it, why did he pick her? Had his older brother put him up to it? That sounded like something Ron would do. Ron or another Alexandrian who was weak and petty like him...

Disgusted, Enid released him and Sam grasped the sleeve of her robe, trying to keep her from walking away. She swatted his hand away and the look she gave him when he reached for her again could have felled a red oak.

"Enid, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you really are. Leave and don't ever come back. You come back here and you're dead."

"But..."

"Take your sorry ass home, Sam. Now."

"Enid, please..."

"Leave!"

Sam ran off crying but Enid didn't care about his hurt feelings. Not anymore. Grabbing the bag of evidence, she stalked back to the porch. She threw her mother's knife into one of the porch's columns before going back inside. Sam's bag of tricks was slammed onto the plush floral print couch. The main level was still dark and Enid knew that she was shaking too much to get back to the basement safely. With that in mind, Enid sat down in the furthest corner of the living room and grabbed the gray duffel bag she always kept ready to go.

Moving aside her clarinet case, she pulled out a large gray stuffed cat. His name was Chairman Meow and she had kept him from the age of 2.

Holding him to her chest, Enid buried her face in the plush and started sobbing.

/

"Hey."

"...hey."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure. Close the door behind you."

Carl came to her and watched as she fiddled with the long silver necklace she was wearing. The ASZ had been rocked by the news of Sam Anderson's failed raid on the garden. Enid had shown up to the Anderson House as soon as the sun was up with his duffel bag. The yelling from Pete had woken everyone up. Jessie had taken Sam into her arms to protect him and Ron had just stood there. Eventually, his dad, Michonne, Maggie, and Deanna had gone over there to calm things down but Carl doubted that anything would change quickly. Pete was the only doctor around and that gave him, as well as his family, some protection from consequences.

Something needed to be done, though. There was only so much bullshit that could be ignored, even for the sake of the Greater Good. The Anderson family, Pete in particular, was starting to become far more trouble than they were worth. All of them were unstable and it would only take one big crisis for them to buckle under pressure. None of them needed that happening.

"...he didn't get to do anything. I stopped him before he could but I'm still mad."

"Walls don't mean anything if the people behind them don't have anything to eat. You're trying to help and Sam wanted to mess that up. That's not right. He's not right."

"I know why he did it. His family sucks and he can't do anything about it so he wrecks shit."

"My dad and Michonne are gonna to talk to the Monroes. See if they can make things better."

"It won't work."

"It will."

"The only thing that's gonna stop Pete is a bullet to the head. The Monroes won't go for that."

"They can make Pete move out and threaten to kick him out of here if he doesn't leave them alone. Just because he's the only doctor around doesn't mean that he can treat his family like shit. He wouldn't last an hour out there and he knows it. He'll stay in line to save his ass."

"Doing stuff like that didn't work Before. You think it'll work now?"

"Probably not but we still have to try. Enid, we can't just leave it."

"I know. I'm sorry. I know that I sound like a heartless bitch but I've been here for a while, Carl. I know exactly how this place works. Nothing is going really to change until someone and something fucked up happens. The best thing you can do is keep yourself, Judith, and your Group in one piece when it does. You guys are really cool. You've already survived so much and you don't deserve to die or get hurt because of these people's weakness and bullshit."

"These people?"

"These people. I may grow the food and keep the bees around here but Alexandria isn't my home and most of the people here aren't worth the time or effort of giving a damn about. I'm not going to pretend that they are."

"I get it. I don't like it but I get it."

"Just as long as you get it."

Enid let go of her necklace and started drawing 3 familiar letters on one of the windows.

"What do they mean? The letters? You put them everywhere."

"...Just Survive Somehow."

"You came up with that after your parents died, didn't you?"

"I did. What happened to your mom?"

"Her name was Lori. She went into labor with Judith while the Prison was under attack from Walkers. An inmate got mad at us for coming in and set off all the alarms to try and kill everyone, including his friends. Well, that and my dad beat his ass but he had it coming, I swear."

"I believe you. Scorched Earth Play: if I can't have it, then you can't either. Fuck you."

"I don't remember his name. I just remember him being an asshole that we should've made sure was dead but didn't. It cost us big. We lost a good man named T-Dogg because he got Bit while trying to close the fences. He saved Carol from getting Eaten, too. While we were looking for someplace safe to hide, we got separated from our doctor. His name was Hershel. He was Maggie's dad and awesome. Anyway, me, Maggie, and Mom ended up stuck in the Boiler Room and Judith was on the way. Mom tried to push her out but she couldn't so Maggie had to do a C-Section. She went into shock from losing so much blood and...I shot her in the head. I killed my mom in cold blood."

"No. She was already Gone so you did what had to be done. If you love someone, you don't let them Turn. You don't let them roam. You free them. You let them have peace. You did good."

"My brain knows all of that but my heart?"

"I get it."

"God, I was so fucking mad at her before it happened. I wanted to hate her but I couldn't."

"Why were you mad at her? What did she do?"

"She cheated on Dad with his best friend. She thought he was dead because he was in a coma before everything changed..."

"Seriously? How the hell did that happen?"

"He was a Sheriff's deputy and got shot in the line of duty after a high speed chase."

"I figured that he was in some kind of law enforcement. Deanna wouldn't have made him Constable if he didn't have the skills to do it right. So, your mom hooked up with his best friend afterwards, thinking that he was Gone but he really wasn't? There was a triangle?"

"Yeah. It was a huge mess. Shane lost it when mom chose dad over him so dad had to kill him. I had to Put Him Down afterwards and all the noise from it drew a huge passing Herd from Atlanta so we had to leave The Farm. That's how we ended up at The Prison."

"Fuck."

"Judith is probably my half-sister but I don't care about any of that DNA bullshit. No matter what, she's a Grimes and she's my heart. After The Governor's tank destroyed The Prison, I found her carrier. It was covered in blood and I thought she was Gone. I thought that she had been blown up, shot, or Eaten and everything just..."

Carl swallowed thickly and looked down at his boots. Reliving that moment, both in his dreams and waking thoughts, always took the wind out of him. Looking at the empty pink car seat, he had felt like a complete failure. His little sister had been depending on him to keep her safe and what did he do? He went off playing soldier and it had been for nothing. The Prison still ended up lost to The Governor's madness and his sister, his sweet and innocent sister...

Enid's hand rested on his shoulder and Carl shuddered, refusing to look at her.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not! I should've been there for her and..."

"Carl, Judith's alive. She's not dead and you can be here for her from now on. You're a good big brother. She loves and trusts you. Your parents and your Group love and trust you so you're not a useless piece of shit. You're a good person. You're strong and kind and good. You're too good for this Fucked New World, to be honest and that's why you..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. What?"

"...you scare the hell out of me."

He looked at her and Carl's hurt was immediately replaced with understanding. Enid wasn't scared of him because she thought he was an asshole that would end up hurting her. Enid was scared of him because she was afraid to get close to people. She had lost her parents and all of her friends from Before. Unlike him, she had been all alone or surrounded by assholes afterwards so she had to come up with a way to keep going. Just Survive Somehow had come from that as did her way of speaking to people and dealing with them.

Enid was harsh so people would stay away from her. They wouldn't try to get close to her therefore she wouldn't have to open herself up to more pain. It was an elegant solution but a lonely one. Enid was hurt and lonely. She wanted to be included. She wanted to belong somewhere but...

"I get it."

"Do you?"

"Yeah, I do and if you want me to leave you alone from now on..."

"I don't want that."

"Then what do you want?"

"...can you hug me again? Please?"

/

Enid wasn't sure which one of them was more surprised by her request.

She stood her ground, though. The fear she felt around Carl was starting to become a challenge to conquer instead of a huge crisis, which made her happy. She already had so much to worry about. Carl didn't deserve to be lumped in with all of her nightmare fuel. He was too good for that.

The soft yet confused look he had given her when they returned to Alexandria was back in full force. Seeing it again was good. Enid wasn't the only one feeling something between them. Carl didn't see her like she saw most males. She wasn't a nuisance or a potential threat. She met him halfway and hid her face in his chest again. Carl smelled like soap, grass, and something uniquely him, something that made her feel safe. He was also very warm. He was a lot stronger than he looked, too.

Carl's left hand rested on the nape of her neck and his right was where her bra band was. Enid was wearing a pair of black overalls and a long-sleeved gray top. She still had the beige gloves she used while handling bees on but her safety googles were tucked in the front pocket. Her hair was down. After finishing her collecting for the day, Enid had added a bit of lavender to the smoker so she knew that she smelled like it. Like she had in the tree, Enid let her fingertips slide into his long brown hair. He liked it when she did that. Enid still marveled at how nice his hair was, how soft and thick. Carl had Disney Princess hair during the Apocalypse and it was hilarious.

"You don't have to be scared of me."

"I don't want to be but I am. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"I meant what I said, Carl. You're a good person. Don't let this world fuck you up."

"It's a little too late for that."

"Don't let this world fuck you up and make you into an asshole. That would suck."

"I'll do my best. So, how does all of this work? The bees?"

Grateful for the change of subject, Enid stepped back and knocked on the nearest hive's lid.

"All of these boxes are hives. There are 8 boxes with 5 slots in each and the bottom two are where the Queen is. She lives there with the pollen and all the larvae. The rest of the hive is where the honey is and I harvest from the top. One hive can give more than enough stuff for everyone around here. If I don't mess things up, there can be up to 60 pounds of product in one. I have to collect from all of them so mold doesn't set in and ruin everything but the main one I get stuff from will be changed every season, provided that this place is still standing and I'm not dead, of course. You follow me so far?"

"Mm-hm. So, there's the Queen Bee..."

"Then, the worker bees. They're all girls. They do the collecting, the pollinating, the storing, the stinging, and all the good stuff. Boy bees? They're called drones and they don't do shit."

Carl's laughter was loud, warm, and wheezy. Hearing it made her grin. There was a constant soft rasp in his breathing and Enid wondered why. Did he have asthma or something?

"Okay, they have one very important job."

"Which is?"

"They get to bang the Queen and then they die right after they're done with her."

"They're living a pretty good life, then."

Enid looked at him incredulously and he grinned at her, actually making her laugh.

When was the last time she had really laughed? It had to be before The End...

"No, but they really do help keep things going. You see, the more boy bees that get at the Queen, the more diverse the gene pool is going to be later on and the better health the hive has. The lion's share of the work in a colony is done by girls. Girls run this bitch from pollination to harvesting."

"The best moves happen when girls take control of things. Trust me, I know. Michonne pushed for us to keep heading towards DC after we couldn't get Noah back home and now, we're here."

"Mm. So, there's honey and then there's the wax they use to seal the comb and if you're careful, you can score some royal jelly but you've got to be careful or you'll screw the Queen over because that's what she feeds on. If the Queen dies or leaves, the bees lose it until a new one comes."

"That makes sense. Why the smoke? What does it do?"

"Using the smoker is the best way to make the hive chill out. You're going to get stung regardless but the smoke stops their pheromones from realizing that there's a threat all at once and it makes things a lot easier."

"What happens after you get all the stuff out?"

"I put it in one of these big buckets and everything gets separated and jarred in the kitchen. After getting the honey where I want it to be, I start making soap, candles, candy, and booze."

"How?"

"I'll show you. Come on."

Enid opened the apiary's sliding door and came to a startled halt in the doorway.

"Ron? What are you doing here?"

How long had he been standing there waiting for her to come out?

Had he seen anything? Heard anything? It was doubtful that he had seen anything. The way she had built the apiary had most of the windows facing the house. The rest were shooter's nests. All of the windows had dark blue blinds that she kept tilted in a way that she could see outside but nobody could see in. As for hearing things...

"I just wanted to say sorry for what Sam tried to do yesterday. He shouldn't have done it."

"No, he really shouldn't have."

"You're doing good things here and he could've ruined everything like he always does."

That statement was telling. Enid knew that Ron was full of anger and angst but apparently, there was resentment festering inside of him, too. The 6 year age difference between Sam and Ron meant that he may have been a surprise. Ron had been an only child for a long time and apparently, he wasn't happy to have to share Pete and Jessie with another kid. With Sam's constant neediness and tendency to whine in play? It was yet another ugly element in the Anderson family.

Also, him saying that she was doing good things when she knew for a fact that he felt otherwise rankled. Ron was a liar. He was a liar and a manipulator. He was trying to get in her good books so he could get in her pants later. He may have convinced himself that he was in love with her and maybe he was in his own way but Enid knew what his goal was.

His goal was pussy. He wanted to get inside of her and claim her like she was a prize.

Ron wasn't getting in her pussy.

She didn't want him there.

She would never want him there.

Enid wasn't a carnival prize to be won and gloated about. She was a person with valid feelings.

She deserved to have a mature and rational companion, one who would try to understand her.

She deserved to be respected fully and cared for properly. She deserved to be nurtured.

Ron would never be able to do that. His upbringing and angst had ruined any chance of that.

"Sam didn't ruin anything because I stopped him before he could. It's cool."

"I'm still sorry."

"Apology accepted. Come on out, Carl. Everything's okay."

"What's he doing in there with you?"

"I was showing him how the bees work and how I harvest. You can hang out if you want."

"...no."

"Fine. Tell Olivia that I'm bringing more comb and candles over later. The soap isn't done yet."

Ron looked between her and Carl suspiciously before leaving. He slammed the gate as hard as he could behind him. Enid jumped at the loud noise and pinched the bridge of her nose. Word would spread about her and Carl being alone together within the hour, probably less than that. Juicy gossip was always appreciated, especially in The Fucked New World.

Unfortunately, some things never changed.

She and Carl becoming friends quickly definitely counted as juicy, especially given her reputation for being a cold hard bitch. Knowing how the Anderson "men" worked, there would be a lot of innuendo woven in Ron's words. Hopefully, The Grimes Group wouldn't get pissed off at her because of them. They were very protective of Carl, rightfully so. They didn't know her from Adam, Eve, or Steve. They could see her as trying to take advantage of him and that would suck.

"Enid..."

"He's not my boyfriend but he acts super jealous over me and I don't like it."

"I know. Mikey told me all about it when I first got here."

"I don't want to be Ron's girlfriend. His family is bad and he doesn't...it just wouldn't work out."

"You don't have to explain."

"Will you please tell your Group and parents the truth? Ron's gonna twist shit and I don't want them to get mad at me. They'll say that we shouldn't be friends anymore and I don't want that."

"We're friends now?"

"I really fucking hope so."

"We are."

Enid gave him a shaky but genuine smile, one that he readily returned.

"Come on. I'll show you how I make everything and you can take some stuff home with you."

"I'd like that. Thank you, Enid."

"You're welcome."

/

Later That Night...

"Carl?"

"Hey, Dad."

"Can you stop reading for a second? I need to talk to you."

Carl slid the Princess Daisy bookmark he had found in place before sitting up. He was halfway through the twelfth comic in the series and Enid had been right. Now that he understood every plotline and recognized all of the characters, reading the comics was so much better. He looked forward to finishing up the series. Finishing the series would give him something good to talk about with her. Plus, if they kept doing the comic book swap, Carl would get to see her more often. Seeing Enid was a high point in his day and it had taken lot of patience not to seek her out.

Their talk in the woods and what happened in the tree had changed things between them.

Enid needed time. She needed space. Enid hurt like he hurt and Carl knew that she was reeling. Leaving her alone was the best course of action. He didn't want to pressure her or spook her further. He had to think before doing, just like his dad had told him when they were on The Farm.

Still, Carl couldn't help but feel grateful to Sam Anderson.

If he hadn't done what he done, then Carl would have eventually had to come up with an excuse to go see her. That wouldn't have worked. He was a good liar, an excellent one when things got intense, but Enid could see right through him already and...

"Michonne told me that us coming this way was our best option. Heading for DC meant that we would have a chance to have real lives and to be happy again. She was right."

"As usual."

His dad laughed and nodded in agreement as he sat at the foot of his bed.

"...yeah, as usual. Anyway, part of having a real life is making new connections with people."

"Like you and Michonne?"

"And like you and Enid."

"Me and Enid are just friends, Dad. Really."

"I believe you when you tell me that but there's something deeper there for you, isn't there?"

"Yeah but she's been hurt a lot and I don't want to make it worse. She needs a friend, not a boyfriend. I mean, if she ever wants me to be her boyfriend, I'll do it but right now? We're just friends. She said that we're friends and that's cool. Enid's awesome."

"That's the best attitude to have."

"I like her because she's honest. She's a hard worker. She's smart as hell and she's funny. She knows how to make it and she was on her own for a long time. She could've stopped and given up. She probably wanted to a few times but she didn't. She pushed through and kept fighting. That means that she's strong. I respect her and she's more than a little scary. She could totally kill me but that's okay. That just means that she can take care of herself. That's good. That's really good..."

Carl looked down at his socks shyly, knowing that his face was beet red. Said face went completely pale as his dad tentatively put something on his bed. He looked between the item and his dad's embarrassed grimace before burying his face in his hands with a pained groan.

Goddamn it.

"Dad!"

"Look, I know that I am in no position to lecture anyone since I have a baby sleeping down the hall right now but you're my son. You're a man now and what you're feeling for Enid is..."

"I get it. Please stop. For the love of God, stop!"

Could someone actually die from embarrassment? Was that even possible? Fucking hell...

"Be smart. Always keep your guard up and if things go further between you and Enid or with someone else later, please use these."

"Why did you get such a big box, though? There's like 100 in there!"

"72."

"What the fuck, Dad?!"

"Hey!"

"Sorry. But, seriously, why did you do this?"

"You have to be safe and I'm too damned young to be somebody's grandfather right now."

"No, you're not."

"...yeah, well, Michonne is definitely too damned young to be somebody's grandmother."

Carl snatched the giant box of condoms up and threw it into his nightstand, slamming the drawer firmly. Instead of looking at his dad again, he laid down and hid his face behind his pillow.

"Did you get a box for you, too? Judith's not potty trained yet and I know how things work. You and Michonne are boyfriend and girlfriend now so that means you're going to be..."

"I know what we're going to be doing, Carl. It's all handled. I promise."

"Good. Oh, my god. Why?"

"I don't know, son."

Both of them laughed and Carl threw his pillow at his dad, laughing harder after he hit the floor. Nearly everyone else on the receiving end of Rick Grimes' annoyed glare would be cowering but Carl just kept laughing. It was great to laugh again. His dad stood up and Carl caught the pillow, putting it back behind his head.

"Need anything else?"

"I need you to stay close to Judith while we handle things with the Andersons. Pete isn't gonna go quietly. He's dangerous and I don't want him trying anything with either of you."

"Enid said that the only thing that's going to stop him from being bad to his family is a bullet to the head. I think she's right. Do you remember what Ed was like? If he hadn't gotten Bit..."

"I remember. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"I got Judith. I'll make sure that she'll be okay. I promise."

"I know you will. Good night, Carl."

"Good night, Dad."

/

5 Days Later...

"Enid..."

"Everyone can see that I just got back from a Run, Spencer and aren't you supposed to be guarding the Gate right now instead of watching this train wreck? It was wide open when I got back. I killed all of the Chompers before they could get in but still...come on, man."

"You won't shoot me, Little Girl! You don't have the guts!"

The gathered Alexandrians screamed as the light fixture exploded precariously close to Pete Anderson's big fat head. If it came down to it, Enid would definitely shoot him. She would take him down, let him Turn, and not lose a wink of sleep over it. As much as Enid hated to use guns, she knew that they were the best weapons available outside of grenades or other explosives like dynamite. Her Glock 19 was well taken care of and always silenced to keep The Dead away. Enid was a decent shot, an excellent one when it counted, and Pete deserved to be pumped full of lead. He deserved to be humiliated and scared for his life because he was just so damned cruel.

Not only was he cruel, he was stupid. He was so fucking stupid!

"He used to be a Sheriff. His wife is a literal Samurai. He and his Group managed to get all the way up here from Georgia and frickin' Texas. What did you think was gonna happen?"

Before going out, Enid had heard about Pete being moved to a house at the back of the ASZ. Jessie had finally given him the boot with the help of the Monroes, Daryl, and Carl's parents. Mercifully, his new place wasn't near her turf and his sons would stay, which was good.

Of the two of them, Jessie was the better parent to Ron and Sam. They would be better off staying with her. Pete had been surprisingly agreeable to the divorce-custody arrangement but instead of being relieved like almost everyone else, Enid had been waiting for his true colors to show.

For once, Pete didn't disappoint.

Not only did he lash out, he lashed out in a big way.

The metal bat that Pete had tried to swing at Rick Grimes' back was currently laying in the grass.

Pete's nose was bleeding everywhere and he was wheezing from being punched in the kidneys.

"He's trying to steal my family! He and his People wants to take over this place and..."

"Mr. Grimes doesn't want to steal your family. Nobody in their right or wrong mind would want to steal your family. Everybody knows what you've been doing to them. Everybody's seen and heard about it and The Powers that Be are finally gonna make it stop. Better late than never."

"You can't stand there and judge me like you're some goddamned saint! You're not a saint or a Princess! You're just an angry little orphan bitch that looks down on everyone around here!"

"Really, Pete? What the hell, man?!"

"Don't even worry about it, Aaron. Is that the best you can do? Ooh, she's an orphan. Ooh, she's a bitch. She doesn't deserve to be a part of this Community. She doesn't care enough...meanwhile, I'm one of the main reasons that there's usually enough food to eat around here. You're an asshole and you are getting way more mercy than you deserve right now. If I were running this place, doctor or not, I would have kicked you out months ago and made sure that you got ripped apart by Chompers. You deserve to die that way. You really deserve to die that way because you allowed booze to be more important than your job. And worse of all? You still have your family after everything that's happened and you hurt them. You're supposed to protect and love them and all you do is hurt them. You suck."

Another bullet was loaded in the chamber and almost everybody started backing up. Aaron, Eric, and The Monroes didn't. Glenn, Noah, Sasha, and Daryl stayed by The Grimes' sides and surprising her, Eugene held fast, flanked by Abraham and Rosita. Maybe he was braver than she was giving him credit for.

Everyone else was on the verge of bolting. If she could land a shot so close to Pete's head, she could do it to anyone, they figured. Her aim was very good and she was apparently that done with everyone's bullshit. They figured right but unlike Pete, the Alexandrians as a whole hadn't done anything to deserve bullet wounds.

Yes, they were still weak and sheltered but their deaths wouldn't come from her hands.

"I tried to tell that idiot boy of mine to stop rubbing himself raw over you but-"

His alcohol and vitriol fueled tirade abruptly ended at the sound of a katana being unsheathed.

Pete wasn't saying anything that Enid hadn't heard hissed behind her back before.

He wasn't saying anything worth listening to at all, really.

He was beaten and he knew it. Now, he was just trying to save face and play the victim.

If he really wanted to be a victim, Enid knew that the ASZ's constables would be happy to oblige.

Pete blanched at the amount of rage in Michonne's usually serene amber gaze. Enid grinned as the big bad bully immediately lost all of his machismo like the sniveling little rat he truly was. He looked like he was about to start blubbering in front of everyone. He had been exposed for the monster he was and he couldn't handle the consequences. It was his own fault.

He should've treated his family right and just what did he expect to gain from attacking Rick other than embarrassment and a stomping anyways?

Rick Grimes was very precious to every member of his Group. He was a genuinely good man, father, and LEADER. Messing with him meant messing with his whole family. If anyone messed with Rick, they would promptly rise up and unleash hell, especially his wife.

Pete should count himself lucky that Michonne didn't decapitate him on the spot. Enid would have. Either that or she would have stabbed him through the heart so he could drown in his own blood before Turning. Pete deserved to be in pain when he was inevitably killed because of all the physical, mental and emotional hurt he had inflicted on his family and others over the years.

It was only fair.

"Shut up and walk. Rick, are you okay?"

"I'm all right."

"Good. Walk, Pete. I won't tell you again."

Rick picked the bat up and the pair of them quickly took the idiot away, followed by their People. Once they were out of sight, Enid holstered her Glock and walked back to the green pickup truck she had claimed for herself. Inside of its hold were 10 out of 20 coils of barbed wire. She had dropped half of them off with the Wall Crew and the rest were for her. There would not be another raid on the garden and bees without the hostile getting cut to shreds for their trouble.

The only things more important than food were water, weapons, and transportation. Everything needed to be done to protect those things.

Enid was going to do her part and do it well, no matter who got pissed off about her methods.

Somebody was going to get pissed off about the barbed wire. Somebody always had something to say about her. There was always judgement to pass and the verdict never went in her favor. The Court of Public Opinion had spoken and she would be forever known as Not Normal.

She was too damned cold.

She was too damned mean.

She had gone insane from being alone out there for so long.

She was a ticking time bomb that would snap and kill them all!

Enid chuckled as she watched Jessie sweep up the remains of the light fixture from inside the truck's cab. Her actions against Pete had been right but they would definitely add more fuel to that particular dumpster fire.

With a melancholy sigh, she turned the truck back on and the crowd parted for her immediately.

Enid could feel their gazes on her as she drove. The gossip was starting and it would soon be followed by warnings to stay away from her unless it was absolutely necessary.

So, nothing new, really.

At least no one stupid, evil, and weak would be bugging her anyone.

Only the genuinely good and brave people in Alexandria would come near her now.

Hopefully.

/

"...I'm just saying that maybe Pete had a point earlier."

"About what?"

"All the new people...Enid..."

"Carter, don't go there."

"Somebody has to!"

"Rick and his Group are nice and Enid hasn't done anything bad. What's your problem?"

"Carter, if Abraham hadn't stepped up when he did, Francine would've been Eaten last week and that would've been on us, on me. Glenn, Tara, Eugene, and Noah found the parts we needed without anyone getting hurt or killed. Daryl's teaching people how to hunt. Rosita and Sasha are teaching people how to fight. Rick and Michonne have done more for Jessie in less than a month than any of us. Maggie's helping with basically everything and...Rick's Group has good people in it who can make this place better than ever. They're earning their keep and yeah, Enid is definitely mean as hell but she's not going to go after anyone who doesn't deserve it. Pete deserved to get shot at and you know it so leave it alone. Leave them alone."

"Did you see how happy that girl looked to be using that gun? Did you hear what she said to Pete? She's sick! And as for Rick's perfect Group, The Priest doesn't trust them. How can you say that they're good people when their own fucking Priest doesn't trust them? He's terrified of them."

"I can use my eyes and my brain to make my own judgements. You should do the same."

"Leave them alone, Carter. Don't do anything stupid. It's not worth it."

"You don't get it! They're gonna take over and then what's gonna happen to all of us? Huh?"

"We'll live."

"All right! All right, fine! Be that way but when they start shooting us like dogs in the streets later on, don't say that nobody tried to warn you..."

Disgusted by what he just heard, Carl turned to leave but he tripped on a snag in the rug, falling down. He recovered just in time for Carter to try and grab him but he juked, unsheathing his Bowie knife to stop him in his tracks. If he had to, he could and would stab him. Carl had no intention of letting Carter hurt him or anyone that he cared about.

He had to warn everyone as soon as possible.

More Alexandrians weren't happy about them being behind the Walls with them. Pete wasn't the only one with a problem. They still needed to watch their backs and apparently, someone needed to keep a close eye on Gabriel. The cowardly Priest had been looking at them all differently since they dealt with The Termites. He was jumpy. He would disappear for hours and Carl swore that if the man did anything to endanger their safety in Alexandria like he had at the Church, he'd...

"Stop it! Carter, you stop it, right now!"

"Leave him alone, Carter! Trying to beat up on a teenager...what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Olivia and Tobin. Olivia ran The Pantry, inventoried the weapons and smoked meats, mainly boar. Enid liked her like she liked Aaron and Eric. Tobin was now a senior member of the Wall Crew instead of the Foreman. He had willingly stepped down so Abraham could run it after Walkers invaded the main site and he panicked. He was open to learning how to Survive and Enid had spoken well of him, too. Both of them just stood up for The Group and Carl would remember their loyalty. They were good people, more than a little sheltered and naïve but good all the same.

"He was spying on us, goddamn it!"

Carter wasn't worth the time or effort of stabbing. He really wasn't. Putting his knife away eased some of the room's tension and Carl stared the man down until he looked away shamefaced. It didn't take long for him to do so. He remembered Enid's declaration in the apiary. He still didn't like it or her overall attitude regarding Alexandrians but Carter? Carter was definitely someone not worth giving a damn about. He was a waste of space and resources. Who else was like him besides Pete? Who else was scared and ridiculous? Who else's issues would they have to deal with?

"I came here to get more red cups and clove oil for my sister just in time to hear you talking shit. If you've got a problem, then why don't you come say it to our faces? To my dad's face?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you! You're just a kid and I'm not afraid of your damned dad!"

"Okay. Prove it. Go and say what you were just saying to him. I can take you to him right now."

Carter looked like he was either going to pee his pants or start crying. Carl wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that if the man got anywhere near his dad, he would pass out or run away screaming. How Carter had lasted as long as he did was anyone's guess, even with Alexandria's Walls and resources in play. His mind was still stuck in the Old World and its ways of doing things. When things happened that didn't fit that mindset, he panicked and lashed out.

Like it or not, everything had changed. The world was completely different now. The Virus and The End had wiped the slate clean. Instead of accepting the truth, Carter and many other Alexandrians had built themselves a comfortable bubble of denial. Bubbles popped eventually, though. Carl knew that when Alexandria's did, it would be fucking awful.

It wouldn't even be a popping bubble. It would be a lanced boil.

Carter left The Pantry as quick as he could without running and Carl felt the urge to go after him. He wanted to take the spineless bastard to his dad. No, he wanted to just punch his lights out. Who gave him the right to judge his family so harshly? Who gave him the right to judge Enid so harshly? He didn't know shit about them or anything else for that matter! He was useless! Carl wanted to make Carter swallow his teeth and puke them out. He wanted to break his jaw and...

"Carl, he doesn't speak for all of us, all right? Neither does Pete."

"I know. Thanks for sticking up for me, Tobin. You too, Olivia. Can I have the stuff for Judith?"

"Sure. Coming right up."

The night was cool and breezy, which helped him calm down faster. Beating the hell out of Carter, as satisfying as it would be, wouldn't do anyone any good. In fact, it would make his and Pete's rants against them seem justified. It would put The Group in danger of being kicked out of the ASZ and that was the absolute last thing that Carl wanted to happen. They had to stay put. They had to rest, heal, and Live again. On the Road, they had been Surviving and barely at that.

If the scorching heat and Walkers hadn't done them in, then sadness would've gotten them. Even the strongest people broke down eventually. Aaron's arrival to the Barn had saved them. Carl didn't want to be the one to ruin things. He didn't want to be the stupid Dead Kid Walking that caused nothing but problems. He had been that way before and it had led to so much pain.

He had to think before doing. He had to be smart.

The smart thing to do would be to let his dad and Michonne know what was going on. They would fill the rest of the Group in and then, they would all figure out how to make things work.

Carter could still go fuck himself, though. Him and every other person who thought like him.

Returning to the house, Carl was pleasantly surprised to see Enid standing by the porch swing.

After what went down with Pete earlier, he had been expecting her to be hiding again.

He was glad to be wrong.

Carl had spotted her on the way out early that morning. She had been guiding her pickup truck forward with it put in neutral and with a guiding rope. That made sense. Every drop of gas was precious. Instead of her usual clothes, she had been dressed in all black. Black cargos, tank top, boots, and a large zip up hoodie. Her hair had been in two long braids and she had her gloves on. Like Michonne's katana, she carried a Grim Reaper's scythe sheathed on her back, its blade catching the first rays of dawn. Her knapsack was full and in the passenger's seat, along with a wooly blanket and large gray duffel bag. She had been ready to go out there and kick some ass.

She had been a woman on a Mission and it would be accomplished, come Hell or high water.

Enid yawned softly and stretched her arms above her head. She was still in her tank top but a pair of beige sweatpants replaced her cargos. She was still wearing her boots and her pink bathrobe's sash blew in the breeze. How long had she been standing there waiting? Why hadn't she knocked on the door? His dad, Michonne, and Daryl liked her. They would've let her in.

"Hey."

"...hey."

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"You did?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Let me put this stuff in the kitchen and I'll be right back."

"I'll be right here."

Before returning, Carl turned the porch light on. Enid made room for him to sit next to her and he did so happily. Quick nudges from their boots put the swing in motion. She was still wearing her gloves but her brass knuckles were in her front pocket. He could see their outline above her knife sheath. Her hair was down now and was that lipstick? And eyeliner? It was!

Why was Enid wearing lipstick and eyeliner?

The thick liner was black and slightly smeared, reminding him of Joan Jett. His mom had loved Joan Jett. Madonna, too. Her lipstick was a deep shade of red. The color reminded him of apples and strawberries. She looked good with the makeup on but why was it there in the first place? Enid didn't strike him as the type of woman to want to wear makeup outside of very special occasions but people had layers. He had only known her for a little while. There was still so much that he didn't know about her but he was willing to learn.

Hopefully, Enid would let him learn. So far, so good...

She pulled a compact out and checked to see if she still looked the way she wanted to.

Nodding once in approval, she put it back in her robe's left pocket before turning to face him.

"When I know that I'm gonna be out there for a while or if I have time before I have to fuck some shit up, I put it on. It's my war paint and if I end up dead or Turned, I want whoever finds me to be like: "awww, she was pretty" before they deal with what's left of me. Dumb, huh?"

"No."

"Speaking of dumb things, you missed one heck of a show earlier."

"Noah told me. He says you should be a sniper like Sasha. My Dad and Eugene think so, too."

"I should've shot Pete in the head when I had the chance. If I had, it would be over. It's not over."

"Losing his kids and his job could make him stop drinking and start being a man."

"Carl..."

"It could."

"He's not going to change. He's going to keep getting blitzed and being a jerk until he decides to blow his brains out. He'll try and take his family with him but I'm pretty sure they'll be okay."

"Are you?"

"They're just as dead as he is, even if he keeps his bullets to himself. It's only a matter of time."

"Goddamn it, Enid..."

"You asked for what I thought and I told you. Sometimes, the truth is ugly."

"It is but would it kill you to try being positive every once in a while?"

"I'm pretty sure it would. Sorry."

"No, you're not."

"I'm really not. I don't give a fuck."

Carl rolled his eyes and Enid shrugged before looking up at all the stars. One of the few good things left in the world nowadays was how easy it was to see the stars. Everything else had changed but the stars hadn't. Carl could still find all of the constellations he used to look at for hours with his telescope in King's County. No matter where he went, he could see them and take comfort from them.

"I put barbed wire on the garden and apiary fences. People are gonna be mad at me when they see it. They're going to say that it's ugly and unnecessary because of the Walls. They'll tell me to take it down and I'll tell them kiss my ass. The food needs to be protected no matter what and if somebody else wants to try and pull a Sam, they're going to have to bleed for it first. You know I actually promised to kill him after I caught him?"

"That doesn't surprise me at all."

"He's 10 years old and he's been dragged through a lot of shit. I get that he's sad but there are lines that you just can't cross. He could've screwed a lot of people over. The only things more important than food are water and having something to keep the assholes away. He was wrong."

"...no more kid's stuff."

"What?"

"Before we had to leave The Farm, my dad sat with me in the hayloft and explained how things work. One day, he'll die. My Group members will either die or make a home somewhere else. One day, I'll be on my own. One day, I'll have my own Group and family to take care of and I have to be able to Survive. I have to know how to keep them safe. I have to know what to do and when to do it. I couldn't always depend on other people to get me to sundown. I had to learn."

"So, you did it. You started learning. You know how to Survive."

"For the most part. I still mess up sometimes."

"Everyone does. You're still here and you're still human. You did good."

Hearing praise from Enid made Carl feel 20 feet tall. She called it like she saw it. No matter who got pissed off or hurt by her words, she spoke her mind. When she said that she was impressed, that he did good, Carl knew that she meant it. Enid had told him that he was strong, kind, and good. She wasn't the first person to say that to him and hearing it always helped him keep going.

His mother had told him to be good before she died and he wanted to honor that wish as best he could. He wanted to be a good son, older brother, and person.

It was so hard to be a good person. It had been hard Before but in The Fucked New World? It was always an uphill battle. Situations and morals changed by the minute, by the second in some cases. All of the Rules and Laws of the Land were gone. Humans were making things up as they went now. What was right? What was wrong? What was overkill? What was justice? The best way to handle things was to take it a moment at a time. Things would still go wrong. Bad calls would be made with the consequences felt but the struggle was better than just giving in.

Carl didn't want to give into the darkness that lingered in his spirit. He didn't want to let the ruthlessness he had become capable of over time to take full control of him. There was a time and place to be ruthless. With Walkers? It was always time. Walkers needed to be destroyed by any means necessary. The less Walkers around, the less of a chance there was to be Bit or ripped apart. Less Walkers meant less Herds to overrun Communities and Camps.

When dealing with twisted people like The Governor, The Claimers, Dawn, or Gareth, being ruthless was the only way to handle things. Evil and crazy like that couldn't stick around because people would always be in danger from it. Those types of people didn't deserve to live. Their cruel ways and selfish decisions just made things worse than they were already were. They had to go.

However, there were still times to show mercy and kindness. Not every person was a piece of shit. There were still good people in the world who needed help. They just needed a friend or a Group to get by. If a person could help, they should. One didn't have to be cruel to be a Survivor, even in times of trouble. Carl had forgotten that after The Governor's first attack on the Prison.

He had gone cold but had managed to come back in the end. With the help of his family and friends, he had come back before it was too late.

Carl didn't want to lose the ability to come back.

If he did, he would willingly eat a bullet or slice all of his veins open.

Staying alive wasn't worth it if you ended up becoming a monster in human skin to do so.

"Carter was trying to recruit Tobin and Olivia. He thinks Pete is right about you and my Group."

"They're cut from the same cloth of scared shitless stupid. I should've shot him, too."

Carl snorted ruefully at that. If Enid shot every idiot that came across her path, both inside and outside of Alexandria's Walls, she would run out of bullets before the sun came up.

"I'm scared that they'll try to fuck things up for us with Deanna. Get us all kicked out."

"Don't be. You're a good Group and you're giving to this place, not just taking. She sees that."

"It's getting worse out there, Enid. If Aaron and Eric hadn't found us when they did..."

"You guys are in a safe place, now."

"But for how long?"

"I can't tell you that. All you can do is enjoy the safety now and be ready to fight to get it back."

"We thought we were ready at The Prison. We weren't and a lot of people died. Good people."

"You can come up with good plans. You can have the right skills and people to pull off miracles. You can have back up plans ready to go when things don't work. You can do everything right and still end up getting screwed over. It was like that Before. It's just worse now."

"I know. I hate it."

"You should. It sucks dick but there are still plenty of good things in this Fucked New World. You just got to know how to see them. The good helps you get through the bad times. After the bad times happen, you bury your dead, stop crying, patch yourself up, find whoever's still standing and keep moving. You can't ever stop moving and you can't spend all of your time looking back and regretting. Doing that will kill you faster than a Chomper, bullet, or blade."

She understood.

She understood.

Carl was used to people his age not getting it. He was used to having to protect and teach them. He was used to having to Lead but he didn't have to with Enid. She understood what life was like better than he did. She wasn't weak. She wasn't a damsel in distress. She was smart. She thought before doing and then some. She was her own Leader and just...

Her hand slid into his again.

Immediately, Carl twined their fingers together and squeezed. Turning his head, he saw that Enid was staring like when they were in the woods. There was a look in her eyes that he didn't recognize. It was an odd look. It wasn't a mean one but he was still confused. Why was she looking at him like that? What did she want? Did she want another hug? He hoped so. Carl liked hugging her. Hugs made her feel better and she always smelled good...

Enid shifted closer to him and her gaze lingered on his lips, making his heart go into double time. It was pounding like it did when he had to flee or fight for his life. The world sped up and slowed down around him as she bit her lower lip. What was she doing? What did she want? Did she want what his instincts were saying she did? Carl didn't want to assume anything.

Slowly, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. Both of her hands went to his shoulders and his went to her waist, drawing her even closer to him.

Their lips met and immediate warmth tunneled through him, as well as a healthy dose of shock.

Enid was kissing him. Enid was letting him kiss her. She tasted like honey and he could feel her lipstick smearing on his face. Carl cupped the back of her head and followed her lead, matching her pressure for pressure. The tip of her tongue traced his lips and he parted them immediately, letting her in. The honey flavor of her lips mixed with mint, walnuts, and something else that was spicy-tangy-sweet. She was so soft and warm. If he wasn't mistaken, she was smiling into their kisses and that made him feel like the King of Everything. He had made her smile again!

A sharp gasp escaped her as he bit her lower lip and Carl pulled away immediately.

"I'm sorry!"

"Don't be."

"Enid, I'm sorry..."

"Shh...I'm okay. Better than okay, actually."

"I've never kissed anyone before."

"I didn't want to kiss anyone until I met you."

"I was okay?"

"You did good. Really fucking good."

"Th-thank you. Are...are you sure you're okay? I didn't hurt you? I didn't force you?"

Enid kissed his forehead and cupped his cheeks, making him look deep into her eyes.

"I don't do anything that I don't want to do. Ever."

After one last peck, she was on the move, leaving him reeling in the best way. Enid just let him kiss her. He was her first kiss and Carl wanted more. He didn't just want to be her first kiss. He wanted all of her kisses but that decision was up to her. Whatever Enid wanted next, he would follow her lead. Carl didn't want to make her feel trapped. He didn't want her to feel like she owed him something. He didn't want to take her choice away. The Claimers had tried to do that to him and Michonne. Thankfully, that hadn't happened but Carl still remembered feeling dirty and ashamed. He remembered feeling angry and disgusting. Enid didn't deserve those bad feelings.

He didn't want to hurt her.

She had already been hurt enough.

Standing, Carl cleared his throat and looked out at the neighborhood only to see Sam Anderson standing across the street. How long he had been there was anyone's guess but judging by the panicked look on the kid's face, he had seen what just happened. Carl started walking towards him and he took off, heading home. Sam would tell someone what he just saw, most likely his mom. Word would spread and with that word would come even more problems from the Alexandrians.

He wasn't worried about The Group or his parents. His dad had made himself very clear. He was cool with whatever went on with Enid as long as he stayed smart about it. Michonne was in the same boat and his growing bond with Enid had become a nice inside joke with everyone. They were in his corner, just like always, and that was awesome. Their Group was a good Group, even after all of the shit they had seen. Hopefully, Enid would be willing to become a part of it, regardless of if they stayed together or not. Were they even together? Just because she had let him kiss her didn't mean that she was open to letting him be her boyfriend.

Of course, the Alexandrians wouldn't see it that way. All they would see is their resident Angry Farmer Girl hooking up with the New Kid after less than 3 months of knowing him. They would judge her. They would call her all sorts of awful names and the rage that he felt in the Pantry threatened to return at the very idea. Carl never liked bullies and Enid was surrounded by them.

Alexandria was supposed to be a big, loving Community but they kept her on the sidelines. She said that she didn't give a fuck but Carl knew better. Not everyone was like that, though. Aaron, Eric, and Olivia were good to her. Tobin obviously respected her, as did Deanna and Reg, but the rest of them were bullies. They had their cliques and their gossip and...

Shaking his head, Carl put a pin in that train of thought and went inside, turning off the porch light. The Alexandrians didn't matter. The gossip that would come didn't matter. What mattered was that Enid trusted him. She kept reaching out to him. She put faith in him and Carl didn't want to let her down. He would do everything in his power to not let her down.

Getting to the bathroom, he looked in the mirror and couldn't help but laugh. As he had felt earlier, his lips and cheeks were covered with lipstick. There was also a perfect print on his forehead. Part of him wanted to just leave it but he knew it would be best to clean his face. Explaining what was going on was going to be uncomfortable enough without adding fuel to the fire.

Still, he didn't throw away the baby wipes he used. It felt than a little weird to hold onto them but he wanted to have a physical reminder of what happened. After securing them in a small Ziploc bag, Carl put them in his nightstand and laid down, turning off the lamp.

Enid had kissed him.

She had kissed him with tongue and given him one of the softest smiles he had ever seen in his life. Of all the people she could've chosen to kiss and smile at, she had picked him. Him!

Wow.

He fell asleep with a huge smile on his face.

/

4 Days Later...

"Mrs. Anderson? Wait, are you still an Anderson or did you go back to your maiden name?"

"I'm a Miller again but... you can just call me Jessie. It's less confusing that way."

"Okay, then. What's up? Do you need more honey? I just took some jars to Olivia so..."

"No, nothing like that. I need to talk to you if you have a minute."

"All right. Come on in."

Enid knew exactly why Jessie was approaching her. She had noticed Sam lurking by the Neidermeyer House while waiting for Carl. He kept his distance from her now, which was bittersweet. He was still a good kid that deserved better but Enid wanted nothing more to do with him. What he had tried to do burned that bridge. Why Sam was spying on the Grimes House was anyone's guess. Was he spying on just the Grimes' or the whole Grimes Group? What did he want from them? Was he jealous like his dad and Carter or was he just looking for someone new to latch on to? Regardless of his motives, he had been there and he had seen everything.

Sam told his mom. Did Ron know? Would he be showing up next? Would he try to start some shit with Carl later on? Most likely, yes and she was not looking forward to that.

Enid had absolutely no regrets about kissing Carl Grimes. He was a good, strong person. He fit all of her criteria for a companion and then some. He had good parents and an excellent Group. He saw her. He got her and he was damned nice to look at. Most of all, he was kind. Even after all the shit he had started and ended, he was still so sweet. He was gentle and loving. He would be good to her and she would try her best to be good to him.

"What are you making?"

"Sauerkraut and lemon marmalade. They'll be ready soon and it's time to start harvesting the fields. The sorghum and potatoes are fine but I'm not too sure about the corn and barley. I'm going to have to ask Maggie and Mr. Grimes to take a look. Even if they are dead, they're still useful. The barley can be excellent mulch and the corn can be used to make gasoline. Well, ethanol."

"That's good. You've built something really good here, Enid."

"I didn't do it by myself. Jessie, why are you here? What do you want?"

The blonde looked uncomfortable but Enid didn't give an inch. She just continued turning and burping the sauerkraut jars. The burping process was important during fermentation. If too much gas built up, then the containers would explode. The marmalade had cooled off enough to be jarred so she put it in the fridge for safekeeping. After she took her nap, Enid would spend the rest of the day making batches of lavender and mint oil for the Infirmary, along with poppy syrup. The oils could be used for treating muscle strains and the syrup could be an anesthetic when the time came.

Denise mentioned that they were running low on painkillers and while finding more on Runs was still possible, it was good to have other options. Maybe Eugene could make them some Ether or Chloroform. He definitely had the smarts to pull it off and...

"I know about you kissing Rick's son."

"We kissed each other. His name is Carl, by the way. His little sister's name is Judith."

"I know that and I just want to make sure that you're being smart about things."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you just met him. What do you really know about him?"

"I know enough about him to let him be my boyfriend."

"So, he is your boyfriend?"

"I hope so. I have to talk to him about it. Do you think he'll treat me like Pete treated you?"

"No! Of course not! He's a good kid."

"Then, what's the problem here? Who do you really want to protect me from?"

"...please don't make me say it."

"Oh, I'm going to. Who do you really want to protect me from, Jessie?"

Jessie's eyes welled with tears and Enid sighed before tossing her a striped kitchen towel.

"I'm not interested in Ron. I never was, even before Carl and his family got up here."

"I know that but..."

"But what? You want me to fake feelings? Do you really think that would do him any good?"

"He's so much like his father..."

"...and you want to put me in a situation like you were in?"

"No! I thought that maybe if he had someone, he'd feel better. He's a good kid but he's sad and just so damned angry all the time. It's like..."

"I can't fix him."

"I'm not asking you to do that. I'm just asking you to consider..."

Jessie trailed off and her eyes wouldn't meet hers. As a matter of fact, Jessie hadn't really looked her in the eye at all. She was jumpy, shaky, and reeking of guilt. Why? She and Jessie had barely said 50 words to each other during her time in the ASZ. Was she feeling guilty because of Sam? She should but only to a point. Sam was 10 years old. Even with his emotional stunting, he was still smart and old enough to make his own decisions. Plus, he had snuck out at 3AM when everyone with sense was sleeping if they weren't on Watch. She couldn't be everywhere.

As for Ron? Well, Ron was Ron. Jessie couldn't stop him from being the way he was. All she could do was show him love and try her best to find a way to make him happy. If he was happy, then...

It dawned on her and Enid pointedly put the cleaver she had been using earlier far out of reach.

"...you want me to fuck him. That's why you're here. That's the solution you've come up with."

The shame and desperation on the blonde's face said it all. Now, Enid just felt disgusted. There was pity and anger in the mix, too but mostly disgust. So much disgust. The absolute gall!

"You have got to be shitting me right now."

"Enid, it doesn't have to be a big deal. I know that you and Carl are already close so..."

"This is not a cathouse and I am not a whore. Stop talking to me like I am."

"Enid..."

"Carl was my first kiss. I haven't been with anyone else, not for a lack of trying on some people's parts. They didn't like me saying 'no' so they tried to change my answer to a 'yes'. Violently."

"Oh God, I didn't know...Enid, I'm so sorry!"

If she never heard an apology from an Anderson again, she would be ecstatic.

"Don't even worry about it. I handled them in the way that they needed to be handled and they won't get to hurt someone else. Jessie, I am not going to fuck your son. I don't want to. I don't see him that way and all that faking those feelings for him would do is hurt him more in the long run. Not to mention that it would end up putting me in a place that none of us need me to be in."

"What are you saying?"

"You just told me that Ron is a lot like Pete, right? Okay. That makes sense. Boys usually learn how to be men from their dads. Say I went along with your idea. What do you think would happen to him when tried to put his hands on me? You know he would."

"Ron would never..."

"Don't even finish telling that lie. What happens next, Jessie?"

"...you would kill him."

"And I would make sure that it would hurt the whole time. Do you want to lose him like that?"

"No, but...I think...I think I've already lost him. I think me and Pete ruined him. Him and Sam!"

Enid wholeheartedly agreed with her on that but she wouldn't say so out loud, even now. Jessie was already in enough pain. It would be cruel to add to it. Although Pete was finally away from her, the wounds he left behind lingered and festered. Everyone knew that she had been a battered wife. Everyone had seen the end of her marriage. Her oldest son was known for being sullen and the youngest one was known for being annoying.

Sam was still catching hell for what he tried to do to the garden so that meant that Jessie caught hell, too. After all, if she had been a better mother, then her sons wouldn't be such bad seeds. She was surrounded by people who judged her and found her to be lacking, including her ex-husband. She was still looking for someone to save her and make all of her problems disappear.

Jessie coming to her this way, as disrespectful and tone deaf as it was, made sense.

Enid waited until the woman composed herself before asking the critical question.

"Does anybody outside of his Group and you two know about me and Carl?"

"...not that I know of. Sam told me while I was tucking him in and Ron had his music on so..."

"Right. It's not a secret but I'd like it if you and Sam could keep it to yourselves for as long as possible. Our relationship is very new and neither of us deserve to be judged while we figure things out. His family won't do that. Everybody else will."

"I understand. I'll let Sam know."

"Good. Go away. We're done here."

"I really am sorry, Enid."

"You're trying to help your son as best you can. I get it. Now, go away. Go far away."

There was only so much patience Enid had left. The longer Jessie stayed, the more tempting it was to pick up the cleaver and go to town. Once the door closed behind the blonde, she took several deep breaths and let them out slowly, mentally counting down from 20.

It had been part of band, learning how to regulate her breathing, but the various exercises also came in handy for reeling in her temper. Just because she understood where Jessie was coming from didn't mean that she wasn't angry. Honestly, Enid was more hurt than angry. The fact that Jessie assumed that she was so detached from her humanity stung. Just because she played her cards close to the vest didn't mean she was a robot. It just meant that she was smart.

Letting just anyone see the real her could lead to trouble. Enid didn't want to be taken advantage of. She didn't want to be used and she didn't want to do that to someone else. It wouldn't be right. The world operated in many shades of gray but there were some things that a person just didn't do, even in the name of "saving" them.

Having sex with Ron wouldn't save him. Being his girlfriend wouldn't save him. No sort of romantic relationship with her or anyone else would save him. Not even sending his scumbag sperm donor to hell where he belonged would save him at this point. The only person who could save Ron Anderson from his demons and angst was himself. It was up to him and Jessie just couldn't see it. Either that or she didn't want to accept the truth, which was so much worse.

Living in Denial could only work for so long, especially with the teeming mass of Dead ambling around and most humans being assholes now. Most humans. Not all of them.

There were still good people.

They were outnumbered 10,000 to 1 by Chompers and 100 to 1 by dickheads but they existed.

That made her feel better.

Deciding to leave her next project for the morning, Enid exited the kitchen and headed for the laundry room. Opening the silver dryer, she put her clothes in the basket to fold later before pulling out the best item she had picked up on her Run.

While looking through the office of the auto shop that she had found the barbed wire in (why a mechanic had kept so much barbed wire on hand was anyone's guess but she was grateful for it...), in the bottom drawer of the desk had been a large stuffed elephant. It had been covered with cobwebs but still very soft, still viable. All it needed was a good wash and a couple of stitches and it could be used again. It could be loved again.

Enid knew the perfect person for the job.

/

"Every kid needs a stuffed animal, especially now. I saw him while I was out scavenging and I just...I grabbed him and some new storybooks for Judith. I already named him but you guys can change it if you want. He's Harry Elephante. You know like the musician? I-I played the clarinet before things changed. I still have it actually and I like puns. I named my stuffed cat Chairman Meow when I was 6 and...do you think she'll like it?"

"Let's find out."

It was taking all of his strength to play it cool.

Just because Enid had let him kiss her didn't mean that she wanted him to be her boyfriend. Just because she had shown up with a basket of food and gifts for Judith didn't mean that...god, she smelled good. She always smelled good but she had put some kind of perfume on before coming over. It was flowery and mixed up with the usual scent of honey that lingered around her and...

Carl pushed Judith's bedroom door open and was pleased to see that she was still napping. His sister was finishing teething and it was rough on her. She was drooly, feverish, and cranky. All the teething rings had been a godsend. They kept a bunch of them in the freezer door. Everyone carried at least two with them in case they had to take her. Judith didn't cry anymore. She had learned that crying was dangerous but her whimpers broke his heart every time he heard them.

The last thing Judith deserved was to be in pain.

As had become habit, Carl gently checked her pulse and smiled as a loud snore escaped her. Judith was sprawled out on her side and had her knuckles in her mouth to suck on. She would still take a pacifier but her knuckles were her favorite.

"She's beautiful."

"She is."

Carefully, Enid set Harry Elephante in the crib and both of them held their breath as Judith shifted. She wrapped her arms around the plushie and slept on, sighing happily. As Carl put the storybooks on the bottom shelf, Enid carefully pulled Judith's pink blanket back over her. His heart threatened to burst out of his chest at the sight. Enid was anything but cold. Once you got past her shields, she was one of the warmest, kindest people around and seeing her be so tender with Judith? Damn.

She would be an excellent mother.

Carl quickly slammed the brakes on that train of thought. He still didn't know for sure if they were together and if they were, it was way too soon to be thinking about that stuff! They had only kissed for the first time 4 days ago. Neither of them was ready for more than that. Plus, they were only 17 and did Enid even want kids? Carl was open to the idea. He knew how to take care of a baby.

He was also scared of the idea because of what happened to his mother.

Every woman was different.

Every pregnancy was different but the very idea of losing his girl because of something he was responsible for was unbearable.

Enid may not want kids. Or maybe she did. That didn't mean that she would want his kids in particular, though. She could be with anyone she wanted and tomorrow was never promised. Something bad could happen to him. He could end up captured or dead. If that happened, then he hoped that she would be able to be happy again with someone else. She deserved that. Enid deserved a family, a Community, and every good thing that the Fucked New World had left.

"Are you hungry?"

"Huh?"

"Are you hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Come on. We'll make some food and then we'll talk."

"Okay."

Other than Judith, the house was empty. His parents were walking the Perimeter. Daryl was out in the woods and Carol had disappeared again. Something was going on with her. Carl knew why his dad had made her leave The Prison. Everyone had tried to keep the facts from him but he knew. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. What Carol had done to Karen and David had been brutal but Carl could understand why she had done it. The sickness had started ruining the Prison and she had tried to get rid of what she thought was the source. She had been trying to protect all of them.

She had tried to protect Lizzie and Mika on the road to Terminus but obviously, something had gone very wrong. Carol had lost Sophia before all of that happened. He would never forget the sight of his best friend coming out of that Barn. He would never forget the way that Carol screamed and cried. Everyone, even Shane, had been heartbroken at the sight of what was left of Sophia: the Bite on her neck, her blue rainbow shirt covered with dried mud and blood.

His dad had to Put Her Down. His mom had told him not to look but he had still heard.

Carol was hurting badly. She knew how to put up a brave front but...maybe Michonne could talk to her. Michonne and Daryl and Glenn, too. Carl would try to do it but he wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to make her pain worse like he had on The Farm. He still felt like shit for that, even though Carol had obviously forgiven him.

Sasha had lost Bob and Tyreese back to back. Her brother had been her best friend in the world from childhood and not only did he die, she hadn't even been able to say goodbye. She had been able to say goodbye to Bob but he had suffered so much. He had been Bit and then Gareth and the rest of his twisted followers had eaten his leg. Sasha was a Protector. She was a Planner and she hadn't been able to save them. She was alive and they weren't. On the surface, she was pissed off but the hurt? Carl wanted to help her but he didn't know how. He didn't know how to help Carol and Maggie? Jesus God.

Her whole family was Gone. Hershel had been murdered right in front of her and Beth had almost made it. She had been so close to making it but Dawn had stolen her from everyone. Maggie had lost her home, her mom, her brother, Jimmy, Patricia and Otis, almost everyone she ever loved was Gone. Thank God Glenn was still standing. Thank God she still had the rest of the Group but that didn't make the hurt go away, just bearable.

It wasn't enough for them to be someplace safe. They had to start healing, too. Carol was hurting. Maggie was hurting. Sasha was completely devastated and...

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Try again."

"...Carol's in a bad place. Sasha and Maggie, too. I'm worried about them."

"They've lost people, haven't they? People who meant everything to them?"

"Yeah. I want to help them feel better but I don't know where to start."

"All you can do is be there for them. It's always gonna hurt but with time and with people who give a damn about them around? They'll get better. You'll see."

"I hope so. What do you need me to do?"

"See if there's a cast iron skillet around here and get the venison. Are you allergic to anything?"

"Walkers."

"Fuckin' A. Anything else?"

"Bullshit."

She giggled and shook her head while pulling things out of the picnic basket.

"I brought some honeycomb, tomatoes, mushrooms, and sauerkraut and Olivia made more bread for toast. I'm thinking that we could make Philly cheesesteaks without the cheese and then have the honeycomb for dessert, maybe with some applesauce to dip it in. What do you think?"

"Sounds good. Definitely better than dog and rainwater."

"You ate dog?"

"Yeah. Dog food, too before we found The Prison."

"I've eaten turtle, snake, possum, and cat. Turtle actually tastes pretty good. Cat, not so much. Better than starving but if I've got a choice? Never again. You chop, I cook, and if you steal any of my ingredients, I may or may not cut you."

Carl laughed and after washing his hands, got to work beside her. Enid had on her usual jeans and boots but a different kind of shirt. It reminded him of the shirts that Beth used to wear. It was dark green with little gray butterflies printed on it. The sleeves went to her elbows and every time she leaned forward, he made sure to keep his eyes up. He had only slipped once and the sight of white lace made his mouth go bone dry.

Was she trying to kill him? If she was, he would die happy!

He also felt like a huge asshole for looking. What the hell was wrong with him?

Women were supposed to be respected. Women weren't objects to claim or to drool over. Plus, he was pretty sure that Enid wouldn't appreciate him looking at her breasts. They were really nice breasts but still, it wasn't right to look at them without permission. He was supposed to be a gentleman and...

"I don't mind if you look at them."

"What?"

"My boobs. I don't mind if you look at them. That's why I put this shirt and bra on in the first place. I wanted them to look their best for you. I guess it worked."

His face was almost as hot as the pan on the stove and Carl knew that Enid was enjoying making him feel uncomfortable. He could hear laughter in her voice and it was a sign of how far gone he was that he wasn't even mad. A happy Enid was always good, even if she was laughing at him.

Looking at her, she grinned and Carl rolled his eyes, even as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm not going to look at your...um, woman parts until we talk about us."

"...and that right there is part of the reason why there is an 'us' to talk about. I guess the Southern Gentleman isn't a myth after all. Get the applesauce out of the fridge, grab two waters and sit at the table. Don't forget the baby monitor."

They ate in warm silence and Carl appreciated how Enid kept glancing at the baby monitor between bites. She also looked towards the street every once in a while. She had her mother's knife with her, her brass knuckles were on, and he had spotted a larger blade sheathed at the small of her back. Enid was ready to protect herself and those around her at all times. Just because things were calm and quiet now didn't mean it would stay like that forever.

Her gun holster was empty but that would be changing soon. There were more Walkers roaming around and 19 had gotten inside 2 nights ago. Somebody had left the Gate open again. It had been Gabriel, which pissed a lot of people off, especially his parents. What good was having Walls and a Gate if they weren't used right? Amazingly, nobody had been hurt by the Pack but there had been a cry for guns to be allowed behind the Walls, a cry that Deanna had listened to since one of the Walkers almost gotten Reg. Noah had taken care of it and Deanna had nearly broken him in two with a hug before latching onto her shaken but still alive husband.

Leadership of the ASZ had officially gone to his dad, who quickly put a Council together like he had at The Prison. That was good. Trying to do everything by himself had led to nothing but trouble in the past. Along with Deanna and Reg, Tobin, Denise, Aaron, and Olivia were a part of it. The rest of the spots were filled by Maggie, Michonne, Daryl, Sasha, and Glenn. It worked out. The Council was split equally between the Group and Alexandrians. While his dad (and Michonne) had final say for Big Moves, everybody got to share ideas. Everybody had a voice.

There was still an Us and Them mentality but it was getting better. Things were looking up.

Of course, with the Gun Ban gone came the need for shooting lessons but that was being handled well enough. His dad had asked him to help with them and Carl didn't mind doing it. The Walls were being reinforced every day. Walker traps were being built outside of them like they had at The Prison and more Watch shifts had been added. Anybody over 18 (or who had the right skills) was added to the schedule and if their talk went as well as he hoped, Carl would make sure that most, if not all of his lookout shifts would be with Enid.

"Enid, I..."

"We kissed 4 days ago and it was great. I would like to keep doing it."

"Me too."

"I also like talking to you. You get me and you keep me from being too much of a bitch."

"Please don't call yourself that."

"I'll try not to but facts are facts. Are you okay with us being together?"

"More than okay. I really like you, Enid. I want to see where this thing between us goes."

"I want that too but us hooking up is gonna cause a lot of drama. Are you ready?"

"I'm ready and don't worry. The drama won't come from my family. They like you."

"They like me as Enid the Person but what about Enid the Girlfriend? What about your parents? I really like you, Carl but not enough to get shot in the face or my fucking head chopped off."

"My dad and Michonne are cool with us."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. He uh...the same day we talked in the apiary, we talked about girls and he gave me a really big box of...goddamn it..."

"Trojan?"

"He gave me a giant box. There's like 100 in there!"

"That must've been hilarious..."

"Not really, no."

"I drink Queen Anne's Lace tea. The seeds work like the Pill but it's good that you're covered."

"My dad's his own man but for Big Moves, he always talks to Michonne first. He wouldn't have given me the protection if she was worried that we'd be a bad idea."

"Good. I-I'm not ready to have sex with anyone yet but..."

"I'm not ready to do it either but when I am, I-I would like it to be with you, if that's what you want. It's okay if you don't. Kissing and hugging you is great."

She nodded and sighed softly, looking troubled.

"What's the matter?"

"I have to tell you something."

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine but Jessie showed up at my place earlier. She asked me to fuck Ron."

"...are you serious? You can't be serious."

"I wish I wasn't but I am."

"What is wrong with her? How could she come to you like that? Did you tell someone? Deanna? My dad? Michonne?"

"No."

"This is bullshit. She can't just do that and walk away. Where is she now?"

"Probably off crying in the corner someplace. I shut her down, Carl so don't be mad, okay?"

"How can you ask me not to be mad when she came to you like you were some kind of hooker?"

"Because it doesn't matter."

"It does matter, Enid! You matter!"

"I'm really glad that you want to stick up for me but Judith is still napping. Chill out."

Carl let out a loud breath through gritted teeth and lowered his voice. The nerve of Jessie! Carl understood that she was hurting. He felt for her, he really did. She was sad and beaten down. Her two kids were even worse off. Pete had spent years bullying them and putting them through hell. Jessie making crazy choices made a lot of sense but still! Still!

"What was she thinking? Did she tell you?"

"I figured it out. Ron's miserable and Jessie is trying her best to find a way to make him feel better so he doesn't off himself. He wants me so she decided to go for it. Any parent worth a damn will do anything to keep their kid alive, no matter how ridiculously fucked up it is."

"The only person that can fix Ron is Ron, not you or anyone else and you have the right to choose who you want to be with. Nobody should take that choice away from anyone. It's not right."

"I know that."

"Somebody...after we lost The Prison, my dad, Michonne, and me were on the road heading for Terminus and one night, we ran into a Group of guys that called themselves The Claimers. Daryl was rolling with them but he didn't know what kind of assholes they really were until it was too late. Dad killed one of their guys who attacked him earlier so they wanted payback before killing him. Me and Michonne were supposed to be payback."

"D-Did they...you weren't..."

"Almost. Dad bit the Leader's throat out and gutted the guy that wanted to do it. Michonne and Daryl took care of the rest of them. They're dead and they won't get to hurt anyone else."

"Good. I'm sorry that happened to you."

"I'm fine, now. Michonne helped me get through it but the idea of that happening to anyone pisses me off. Let me know if Jessie or Ron try anymore bullshit with you, okay?"

"I can take care of myself, Carl."

"I know. Let me know if Jessie or Ron try anymore bullshit with you, okay?"

"...okay."

He stood up and Enid watched warily as he approached her. He wasn't mad at her. Even if he was, Carl would never, ever put his hands on her. Men who did that to women and children weren't men. They were monsters. Carefully, Carl rested a hand on the nape of her neck and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Relaxing, Enid leaned into him and he hugged her, burying his face in her hair.

"You smell really good. Like flowers."

"I found perfume in the back of the Pantry. It's supposed to smell like Elizabeth Taylor."

"She smelled good."

Carl cringed at that but her fond sigh chased away any embarrassment.

"...you're weird."

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

"Don't be. I don't mind."

Enid stood up and yawned, stretching like she had the first time they met. Unlike that time, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before giving him the softest smile again. Carl knew that if he were a cartoon, big pink hearts would be floating above his head right now. Hell, he was tempted to check for them anyway. Enid was his girlfriend, now. She had chosen him to be her boyfriend. As long as he didn't fuck up, he would get all of her kisses and most of her smiles from now on.

"I usually take a nap around this time but there's a mess and..."

"I got it. If you want, you can nap here. You don't have to go home yet."

"...all right, then."

Instead of going for the couch like he figured she would, Enid went upstairs. Was she really going to...she wouldn't, would she? Carl hoped that she would but...

After cleaning up, Carl grabbed the baby monitor and headed for his room. Sure enough, Enid was curled up in his bed. His favorite pillow was under her head and she had made a nest out of the blankets. Her mother's knife was centimeters away from her left hand and he knew that if she felt the need to throw it, it would fly true. She was in his bed. She was so pretty and in his bed and...

"Come lay down."

/

Usually her afternoon naps only lasted for about an hour but when she woke up, it was dusk.

Enid blinked once, twice before sitting up slowly. Carl was gone but she could hear music and voices downstairs. She could also smell more food cooking and her stomach let out a loud roar. Checking the clock, she saw that she had been sleeping for 5 hours. Getting up, she put the blankets back in place and lowered the hem of her shirt. Carl had spooned up behind her and his hands ended up on her abdomen, stroking gently. Instead of pulling away, Enid had shifted as close as she could get to him and relaxed. Carl wouldn't hurt her. He wouldn't take advantage of her. She was in a safe place with a safe person so she slept with no bad dreams.

Turning on the bathroom sink, Enid splashed some water on her face before taking a deep drink from the spigot. Few things tasted better than cold, clean water. Enid was all too aware of how much of a luxury it was. After drying her hands thoroughly, she headed for the stairs and conversations stopped as she came into view. Carl's whole Group was there for dinner.

They had moved to different houses after settling in but they still made sure to stay connected. That was good. That was smart. Just because they were someplace safe now didn't mean that they were going to be safe forever. They had to keep their family and friend ties strong. It was possible to make it alone in the world. Sometimes, doing so was necessary but it was a lot harder, a lot sadder...

"Hey. You're awake."

"I am. Hi, everybody."

"Come sit down. We're about to eat. Carol and Maggie made dinner."

"Okay."

As soon as she sat next to Carl, Judith reached for her. Enid took her immediately, smiling at the sight of Harry Elephante on the table. His upraised trunk was a little damp. Once Judith was comfortable, she grabbed the plushie and continued gnawing at it happily.

"Did you get that for her?"

"Yes, sir. Every kid needs a stuffed animal."

"Thank you. You can call me Rick, if you'd like."

"Can I stick with Mr. Grimes for now?"

"You can."

Dinner was boar noodle soup, salad, and toast with honey for dessert. There was a pitcher of lemonade on the table and Enid chopped up some of her food to share with Judith. The baby had turned so her head rested on her shoulder and her free fingers played with her necklace. Carl also shared his food with his sister and Enid could feel everyone watching them. He must have let them know what was going on. Not like she had given him much of a choice since that she had taken over his bed like Goldilocks earlier.

Enid wasn't uncomfortable with the knowing looks and smiles, though.

Carl's family wouldn't hurt her unless she tried to hurt them first. She and Carl were a couple now. She wasn't ashamed about that. Neither was he. They had talked about their feelings and decided to move forward together. What would happen? Who would happen? Neither of them could say for sure but Enid knew that she had made the right choice today.

As much as Carl still scared her, being friends and more with him was a good idea. Not only had she gained a companion, she had met a whole Group full of genuinely good and strong people. They accepted her. If they didn't, they wouldn't have let her within 10 feet of Carl or Judith. For the first time in a very long time, she felt like she belonged someplace. She felt like she could let her guard down, just for a little while, and nothing bad would happen to her. She...she...

"Enid? Are you okay?"

She could feel the hot pressure building behind her eyes. Someone took a now sleeping Judith off of her lap as they shut tightly. Her face crumpled and the tears came out like an erupting volcano. Loud, body wracking sobs took her voice away. She put her hands over her mouth to muffle herself as she sank to her knees by her seat. As sad as she was, she still had to be careful. She couldn't make too much noise. Too much noise made The Dead come and when The Dead came, bad things happened.

Why was she even crying right now? It didn't make any sense.

Crying didn't solve anything. Crying took up too much energy and wasted precious bodily fluids. She was secure in a sturdy shelter. She had a good hot meal in her stomach and she wasn't thirsty at all. She wasn't injured. Assholes weren't trying to rob or kill her. Chompers weren't in Alexandria's Walls anymore or if they were, they weren't near her. Even if they were behind the Walls, she knew how to get rid of them. She wasn't helpless. She wasn't useless. She was doing fine right now, better than fine, so why was she crying? Why couldn't she stop crying?

Warmth engulfed her from behind and she collapsed into it. Carl. Carl was hugging her again. Enid liked it when he hugged her. When Carl hugged her, she didn't hurt. But she had just knocked him on his ass so maybe he was hurt. Honestly, Carl didn't have much of an ass to be knocked on but still, she wasn't exactly petite. She was a goddamned fucking mess. She was being a big crybaby in front of his whole Group and parents. She was being clingy and now, she messing up his shirts with all her blubbering. That wasn't good. She needed to stop crying right now!

"...I-I'm sorry..."

"I got you."

"I'm sorry..."

"I got you."

/

He didn't know what to do other than hold her.

Dinner had ended after Enid started crying. Most of the Group left but Glenn, Maggie, and his parents had stayed. That was good. If he couldn't find a way to make her feel better, then Carl knew they could. Maggie and Enid had gotten really close, bonding while helping the garden, so maybe they could talk about things. Carl was more than willing to listen but there were some things that he just wouldn't understand. Woman things and the type of loss she felt. Carl had lost loved ones and friends but compared to Enid, who had lost everything? He just...god, he was glad that she had stopped crying. The fact that she felt safe enough to cry in front of him was good but hearing her in pain, seeing her on the floor?

He wished he had a target. A human threat, a Walker, anything that he could take on so Enid wouldn't hurt anymore. She was in pain and it wasn't right. He had to do something. He had to help her feel better. He wouldn't feel right until he did and was that what being a serious boyfriend, being a husband felt like? Did Glenn feel like this all the time with Maggie? Did Abraham feel it towards Rosita? Aaron to Eric? His dad with his mom and now with Michonne?

Carl would have to ask him about it later.

He would know. He would help him.

His dad always helped him.

Slowly, Enid turned around, and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I got you. I'm right here."

She nodded.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head.

"Okay. Are you ready to go home?"

Enid nodded quickly and they got off the floor. Carl's arm was wrapped around her waist and she wouldn't look up from her boots. He understood. Enid was known for being a strong woman. She was known to take no one's shit. She felt bad for crying in front of everyone. He had felt embarrassed that way before and after The End so he wouldn't judge her.

"Would you like someone to stay with you for a while?"

She nodded.

"Maggie? Glenn? Do you want me to go get Aaron?"

She shook her head.

"Me?"

Her face twisted and she moved away from him, scuffing the floor with the toe of her boot.

"Enid, do you want me to stay with you?"

"Yeah, but I just finished crying all over you. I'll be fine if you want to stay here."

"If you want me to stay, I will. You shouldn't be by yourself right now."

"...go check on Judith first. Are you done with the comics yet?"

"Yeah. I'll grab them and we'll go."

"Don't bend the corners."

"I won't. I promise."

"I believe you. Hurry up."

/

"I didn't start crying earlier because something was wrong. It happened because for the first time in a long time: everything felt right. I know that sounds dumb but..."

"It doesn't. I get it."

"...you do, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"I gotta get used to that."

As they walked through Alexandria, clouds rolled in. The storm arrived just after they got inside. The wind was howling and the rain was driving. Even if she wanted Carl to drop her off, it would've been impossible for him to get home without getting drenched. If that happened, he risked getting sick. Getting sick wasn't a good idea. Denise had officially taken over as the ASZ's doctor and she was doing a great job but it wasn't like Before. Everybody's immune system was different now and Enid didn't want to risk losing him already. She had just gotten him, damn it.

More importantly, she just wasn't ready for Carl to go home yet.

Enid had eaten some honeycomb, wiped her face, and headed for the basement door. Carl being Carl had stayed still, making her sigh with fond exasperation. It was a good thing that he never assumed anything. It was wonderful that he didn't feel entitled to her at all times but sometimes, he could be fucking oblivious. Patiently, she had come to him and grasped his wrist, leading the way.

A part of her had cringed that the mental image of her tugging him all over the place like some of the girls used to back home. The boys rarely looked happy when they did that. They looked embarrassed at best and at worst? Well, that was what led to tears falling, juice boxes being thrown, and teachers having to call home. Looking over her shoulder, the nerves drained away. Carl looked surprised. He looked like he could've been knocked over with a feather but he wasn't embarrassed. He wasn't trying to flee. After the surprised look came one that was happy and more than a little grateful. Carl really wanted to stay with her. He had said so earlier and meant it.

Currently, they were resting in the lounge area of the basement. She was laying on her back and he was on his side. There had been couches and chairs but Enid had used them to help barricade the second exit. The door was always locked and she had put a trip line trap there to send anyone or thing breaking in tumbling. Whatever furniture that wasn't absolutely mandatory went to that staircase. If things got hairy, the staircase could still be used as an escape route but really, there was only one way in and out. That was for the best.

The lounge area now had several rugs, faux furs, blankets, cushions, and beanbags that she had scavenged. Her old room had a big nest, too. She used to spend hours reading, drawing, and playing puzzle games on the internet. She had also had an entertainment system, which the house she had now did as well. It was filled mainly with books and comics but there were DVDs. VCR tapes, too with the machines to run them. Did he want to watch something? Read something? She should've offered him some dessert or maybe some tea...

"I'm fine, Enid."

"...you reading my mind, now?"

"Just a lucky guess."

Enid nodded and stood, looking at him. Having learned his lesson, Carl got up and followed her to bed. It was a Queen size bed with a wrought iron frame high enough off the ground for a person to comfortably hide underneath. Soft sheets, thick blankets and faux fur covered the bed's surface, along with several pillows. Enid had taken off her boots and changed into pajamas in the bathroom. Now, she had on a pair of red basketball shorts, a black t-shirt, and a pair of pink fleece ankle socks. Carl had put his boots next to hers, took off his flannel of the day (brown plaid with white detail), and underneath his beige thermal was a white undershirt.

The nightstand on his side of the bed soon held his Hat, Bowie Knife, and Beretta.

The other one had her Glock 19, alarm clock, and a desk lamp. The flowery perfume she had put on earlier was next to a bottle of cucumber scented lotion. Her mother's knife was underneath her favorite pillow and she got into bed. Instead of cocooning herself, she immediately made room for Carl. After swallowing thickly, he climbed in. He had changed into gray sweatpants before dinner so she knew that if he felt uncomfortable, it was because of how intimate they'd been already.

There had been hugging. They had held hands before hugging. Their first kisses had only been days before and now they were sharing beds? They weren't going to have sex in the beds but still! They were going at warp speed. Was it inappropriate? Were they being inappropriate?

She couldn't speak for Carl but Enid honestly didn't give a fuck if they were. Not anymore.

Life was far too short and fragile for bullshit, especially when it came to good things.

Good things were rare. She and Carl were a good thing. They were a damned good thing that neither of them had seen coming. Enid wouldn't ruin it. She would make sure that Carl wouldn't ruin it and she would be damned if she let anyone else do it. Things happened. Sometimes, relationships didn't work but if she and Carl couldn't manage to stay together as a couple, she would make sure that they would stay friends. Friends were hard to come by and...

"...is it okay if I hold you?"

She nodded and smiled as he kissed her brow again, listening to the driving rain and thunder.

"Will everything be okay with the plants and bees?"

"Rain always helps and if something does go wrong out there, between me, Maggie, and your dad, we'll be just fine. I like Maggie."

"She likes you, too. So does Glenn."

"They're perfect together. Like soulmates. Did they know each other before The End?"

"No. They met on The Farm after I got shot."

"Wait, what? Somebody shot you? Why? What happened?"

"It was an accident. A man named Otis was hunting near where we were looking for Sophia and the bullet went through the baby deer and into me. That's how we met the Greenes."

"Oh, my God."

"Getting shot didn't really hurt after the first 10 seconds. It was like BOOM and all the breath got knocked out of me before I hit the ground. The last thing I remember before waking up for the first time was my dad screaming and a lot of blood in my mouth. The blast got me in the chest and left a bunch of bullet fragments in me. Hershel took them all out and dad gave me blood transfusions until I could get better. He gave me his Hat after I woke up for good. He said that we were part of a Club now and that I was the new Sheriff in town."

"That's why...I thought you had asthma because there's always a rasp when you breathe but...oh, my God, how are you alive right now? I'm glad you are but Jesus Christ..."

"Luck. Just plain luck. We found the right people in the right place who knew how to help at the right time. That, and I guess I just wasn't ready to go yet."

Enid squeezed him and after a second, scooted away from him. Opening the second drawer of her nightstand, she pulled out something that made him grin broadly.

"Seriously?"

"Hell, yeah. I got a bunch for the school but I kept a few sheets for me."

Carefully, Enid peeled off a shiny gold star sticker and put it on the bridge of Carl's nose. His periwinkle eyes crossed as he tried to look at it and she smiled, ducking her head shyly.

"Good job, Sport."

"Thank you. How do I get more?"

"Keep living and keep kissing me. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Good. Bedtime."

/

"...so, how was it?"

Turning slowly, Carl took in the sight of Ron standing in the street, smirking at him.

"What?"

"Enid...you were at her place all night, weren't you? She's always hanging around your Group now and Sam told me that he saw you two making out. He didn't want to but I made him."

"Ron..."

"How was it, man? Was she good? I bet she was..."

"It's not like that and even if it was, it's none of your business."

"Bullshit!"

"What? What's bullshit?"

"This whole thing! Her and you. Why you?"

"I don't know."

"She...she had to know how I feel about her. She had to see it but...she barely knows you but she picked you like it was nothing. I've been right here in front of her since she got here but she just...I don't fucking get it. What did you do? What did you say?"

"I don't know."

"You have to know!"

Carl met Ron on the sidewalk, blocking him from getting closer to the house. Judith was already up. He could see Michonne and his dad in her room. Daryl would be coming out to take his guard shift soon. If Ron was going to start acting like Pete, then he wouldn't get anywhere near his family. Carl wouldn't let him. He didn't like Ron's body language or his tone of voice right now. He looked like he was going to explode at any second and the look in his eyes? God, it was so...

"Don't look at me like that! Everybody looks at me like I'm just like that asshole and it's not fair!"

When Ron made to rush him, Carl did one of the tackles Tyreese had taught him at The Prison to stop him. It was best to get someone coming at him off of their feet by going for their middle to use their speed against them. If a tackle was done right, 9 times out of 10, the asshole would go flying. If they didn't go flying, it would definitely slow them down long enough for Carl or whoever was with him to take them down for good. Waiting to see what he would do next, Carl saw that Ron was looking at up him with shocked fear.

"I'm sorry, man."

A noise that was between a scoff and laugh escaped Ron. Instead of anger or fear, there was nothing now and Carl was more unnerved by that than anything. Was Ron crazy like Lizzie?

"You're not sorry at all. You don't give a fuck about me or my family. No one in this place does. We're on our own and as soon as something bad happens, we're gonna be the first ones left behind or killed. I know what everyone says: the washed up, wasted surgeon, his weak little ex-wife who needed a Group to save her instead of doing it herself, and their two fucking demon kids making life harder for everyone. It's cool, though. See, we're all dead already. We're just not buried, yet."

Ron was definitely crazy like Lizzie but in a different way. She had thought that Walkers were alive and misunderstood. Ron just...he wasn't sure what Ron was but Carl knew he was wrong.

"It doesn't have to be like that."

"Yeah...right. Whatever."

Carl kept a close eye on Ron until he was gone and adjusted the brim of his Hat. Even with Ron's raised voice and the small scuffle, nobody had come out to gawk at them. That was good. There was less chance of people getting hurt that way. Also, he was sick of being watched like he was in some sort of soap opera. He was sick of his Group being judged and found lacking. What did they know about anything? Things were getting better but the Alexandrians as a whole still had a long way to go before they could really make it in The Fucked New World.

One thing for sure: he was definitely going to have to watch his back around Ron from now on.

Not only was Ron jealous about his relationship with Enid, he was jealous of his family. Jealous feelings could become deadly actions. Shane had proven that on The Farm and the assholes who attacked The Prison had, too. Good and dumb luck could only last for so long. Eventually, Carl knew that he'd end up dead but he would be damned if he went out without a fight first!

And Ron definitely seemed like the kind of person to try and take him out with his back turned. Either that or he'd get someone to do it for him or he'd trap him with too many Walkers around.

Ron Anderson could talk all the shit but he wasn't brave enough to back it up.

A big part of that attitude was because of Pete's bullying so Carl felt for him but only to a point. Ron was far from the first person to have a fucked up childhood and family. He didn't need to get over it but he didn't get to keep being a brooding brat because of his trauma.

The Andersons continued to be a problem, even after things changed.

Pete was still drunk and angry, despite him keeping to himself now. Jessie was still depressed and desperate. While he still felt sorry for her, Carl was still angry at what she asked Enid to do. Sam was a hermit like his dad and Ron? Goddamn it.

Honestly, every Anderson just needed to stay away from him and his family. They would get his family members hurt or killed in a crisis or during their breakdowns and if that happened? Carl wasn't sure how much mercy he would be able to show them. Probably none...

The front door opened and Michonne came out in her Constable uniform. He knew that he should stand up from the wicker chair or at least say good morning but his mind wouldn't stop racing.

"Carl? You okay?"

"...no."

She was in the chair next to him immediately and Carl looked up from his boots.

"What's the matter?"

"I've got a bad feeling about Ron. I don't want him to hurt any of us."

"You think he would?"

"I think he would try. Michonne, he's not right. A lot of it is because of his dad being an asshole but there's something else there. Something..."

"I know. All of us see it. Deanna, Denise, and Maggie are trying to figure out a way to help him."

"I don't want him to hurt Enid. I know that she can take care of herself but..."

"If something happens, we'll make sure that she'll be all right. She's one of us, now."

"She is?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

/

9 Days Later...

"The next one's going in your head. Come out with your hands up. Nice and slow."

The stranger was dressed in black and gray: most notably a leather duster and gray winter's hat. He had a white bandana covering half his face. His hair was the same shade of brown as hers and shoulder length. Even with a gun pointed at him, his crystalline eyes were kind, amused even, and that added to her wariness. He was clean, armed with a gun but he wasn't carrying anything with him. Did that mean he had a friend nearby? A vehicle or maybe a horse? He was definitely from a Camp or Community. Was he a part of a good one or was he a spy for assholes?

What did he want?

"Go inside and get Mr. Grimes. Hurry up."

Glenn and Eric quickly ushered the students away. Daryl had his crossbow up and Carl came up next to her, pointing his Beretta right in between the stranger's eyes. When neither of them said anything, Enid realized that she had been picked to take point. That made sense. She was the one who discovered the potential threat, after all. Enid lowered her gun but kept it unholstered, just in case the stranger tried anything stupid.

"Who the hell are you? Why are you watching us?"

"I'm a friend."

"Friends don't lurk in the woods watching people like a creep for the last 2 days."

"You noticed me?"

"Yep. You got a name, Friend?"

"Jesus."

"Your parents didn't name you Jesus. They loved you. Try again."

The stranger laughed and clarified, "My name is Paul Rovia. My friends call me Jesus."

"I can see why. Aren't you hot? You're wearing a ton of leather and black..."

"I'm used to it. You want to tell me your name? Your friends' names?"

"Not yet."

"Fair enough. That was a nice shot. You almost got me."

"If I wanted to get you, I would've. I didn't want to."

The sound of running didn't make her turn but her eyes widened as Rick Grimes' Colt Python slammed into the stranger's temple, knocking him out cold. Carl chuckled and rolled his eyes fondly before holstering his gun.

"Really, dad? Again?"

"Hush."

"...I don't think he's an asshole, Mr. Grimes. You-you didn't have to hit him so hard."

"Better safe than sorry. Good job spotting him, Enid. Daryl, help me with him. He's not coming in the Walls. Glenn, Sasha, go and check where he was. See if you can find anything. Michonne?"

"I got them."

Them meaning her and Carl. Seeing that Carl was about to protest, Enid grabbed his clenched fist and squeezed. After a couple of seconds, he placed his hand in hers. She gave him a pleading look as they walked behind Michonne. No, they weren't helpless. No, they weren't useless and no, they didn't need to be coddled but appearances could be deceiving. If this Jesus fellow turned out to be an asshole, the best thing they could do was to get inside. They knew how to defend themselves and protect others. If the need arose, Enid knew several hiding places inside, underneath, and around the ASZ. They would get answers later. Protecting the Community came first.

An expression that was precariously close to a pout crossed his face before he nodded.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. What do you think he wants from us?"

"I'm not sure. He doesn't look like he's been living rough. He's clean, he's got at least one gun, and he kinda sounds like an ambassador."

"There have to be other Communities and Camps out there. Maybe he's from one of them."

"I hope he's not an asshole. He really doesn't look like it."

"Looks can be deceiving."

"True."

"He was right about one thing though: that shot was sick."

"I do what I can. You're a good shot, too. Of course, you have to be. You're the Sheriff's son."

Carl grumbled at her cheeky reply and put a hand at the small of her back to guide her through the Gate. She liked it when he did that. It felt good. They waved to Michonne as she headed back to help Rick before making sure the Gate was shut behind them. Eugene would be there to take his Gatekeeper shift soon so Enid sat down to wait for him. Even though David and Betsey, Scott, and Bruce were on Watch, it was never a good idea to leave the Gate unattended for too long.

"What else are you doing today?"

"Maggie's finishing up the harvest so I was going to hang out at the Infirmary with Denise. You?"

"Playing with Judith, folding some laundry, and then I've got Watch tonight from 10 to 6."

"You want me to keep you company?"

"You don't have to."

"Carl, do you want me to keep you company?"

"Yeah."

"All right, then. I'll show up around midnight."

"Cool. Here come Eugene and Tara. Walk me home?"

"Sure."

While passing Tara, Enid accepted her fist bump before giving the Vulcan salute to Eugene with her free hand. Her other hand was in Carl's and she grinned at Tara's wolf whistle at the now common sight. The more time passed, the more open the Grimes Group became with her, even Carol. They exchanged a recipe nearly every day and Enid could tell that the woman genuinely liked her. She was still fighting off her demons but she was getting better or at least she wasn't on the verge of breaking anymore.

Sasha liked to read in the garden and when Enid had shyly asked her to help with her shooting, she had agreed. That was why she was able to spot Jesus in the woods so easily. Sasha was one of the sweetest people around and Enid was glad that she was finally starting to settle into Alexandria.

How much that settling in had to do with Abraham, she didn't want to dwell on. As far as she knew, Abraham and Rosita were still together as a couple but...well, it wouldn't a normal life without a bit of drama, would it? Whatever happened, Enid hoped that it would be okay in the end. Rosita deserved to be happy just as much as Sasha did and she swore if Big Red handled things wrong, she would stomp him. Not too hard because that was for Sasha and Rosita to do but still!

"Carl, I..."

Whatever she was going to say was lost to the all too familiar sound of gunshots.

They looked at each other with alarm and took off running down the street.

They met Aaron on the way and he looked very grim.

"Where did they come from?"

"Pete's."

Enid blew out a breath and nodded, unholstering her gun again. After his fall from grace, Pete put himself on House Arrest. He decided that if he couldn't have his job in the ASZ anymore, then he didn't want to be a part of the Community at all. He wanted people to feel sorry for hm and to be sad that he was gone. Instead, things kept going without him, adding to his foul attitude.

Carter would bring him supplies every week and Ron would visit him every day. It was a cause for concern but nobody had stopped him from doing it. If Ron wanted to see his sperm donor, that was his choice. Why, Enid didn't understand. Jessie and Sam, as miserable as they still were, wanted nothing more to do with the bastard, much to his displeasure. In Pete's eyes, everything was just a misunderstanding and...

"Hi, guys."

"Ron, what did you do? Where's Pete?"

An eerie smile was his reply but given that his face was splattered with blood, Enid could connect the dots. Ron was still holding the gun and she backed away slowly, bringing Carl with her.

"What's the matter, Enid? Are you scared of me?"

"Right now? Yeah. You just killed your dad, didn't you?"

"He had it coming for being such an asshole. Don't worry. I shot him in the head so he won't Turn. When I pulled out the gun, he started laughing at me. He said that I didn't have the guts to do it. He said that I was weak and useless just like my Mom but he was wrong. I'm strong and now, he's gone forever. I did my job and took care of my family. Aren't you proud of me?"

No, she really wasn't. Yes, Pete Anderson being dead was a good thing. It was one less threat to Alexandria's future. One of the biggest sources of nay-saying and potential rebellion was gone. No more resources would be wasted on him. Denise would no longer wince every time the Infirmary door opened. Sam and Jessie would no longer have to worry about the Boogeyman coming back to get them but it seemed that Ron had taken on the mantle. His smile was bright but his eyes were as dead as his dad. Enid knew that he had been teetering on the edge for a long time. Him losing his shit was inevitable but she had expected him to kill himself, not this!

"Ron, please give me the gun."

"How come, Aaron? Everyone else has guns, now. Why can't I have one?"

"Ron?!"

"Hi, Mom. Where's Sam? Still hiding in his room listening to that stupid fucking Tulip song?"

"Baby, are you okay? What did you do? Whose blood is that?"

"I did what I had to do. You wanna see?"

"In a minute. Listen, Deanna and Reg want to talk to you. You're not in trouble but..."

"I better not be. They knew what he was doing to us but they wouldn't do shit, not until Saint Rick made them. Where is he at, anyways? He's supposed to be in charge, isn't he? That's why you like him so much. You dream about him and give him Bambi eyes but it's not gonna happen. He's with Michonne so it's never gonna happen just like me and Enid because she's with Carl. Typical."

"I'm so sorry."

"You should be. It's your fault that she doesn't want me. Yours and Pete's. You both ruined me."

"If I could do it all again..."

"Save it."

The eerie smile was gone and the gun was up again, now pointing directly at Jessie's face. The blonde cringed at the sight of it but stood firm. More people were coming to help. Enid could hear them running and Carl put his arms around her, shielding her with his body. His pulse was pounding in his neck and she patted his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

"You're not gonna say anything? You're not gonna try to stop me?"

"If...if it's what you feel like you have to do, then okay. I just want you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted and I kept fucking up. I should've been stronger. I should've left him a long time ago but I was too scared to do it. I was a coward and you and Sam paid the price for it. I'm sorry."

"...me too."

Everyone screamed as another shot rang out but instead of Jessie's, Ron's brain took the bullet. Enid heard the body hit the ground and retched. As if released from a puppeteer's strings, Jessie went to her knees. The guttural wail she let out was heart wrenching and Carol knelt with her, hugging her from the side. Enid was shaking and everything was just so bad, terrible...

"Go. Carl, take her and go. Now."

Rick. That was Rick's voice. He was back inside the Walls. Deanna and Reg were with him, too. They were crying. Everyone was crying. Where was Jesus or Paul or whatever he called himself? Where had he come from? Was he an asshole or a good person? Was anyone going to tend to Ron's body? Pete wasn't worth more than the bare minimum but even with all of his issues, Ron didn't deserve to just lay there like roadkill or a downed Chomper. That wouldn't be right.

What was going to happen to the ASZ? What was going to happen to Jessie and Sam? Why had it come to this? Knowing that something bad happening was inevitable didn't make it any easier to endure. It just made it hurt more and...and...

Was she a terrible person for being relieved that Ron was dead?

The situation was beyond fucked up. It should've never happened but Enid knew that it could've been much worse. More people could've been hurt or killed if he continued his rampage. Ron would've come after her next. In his mind, she had broken his heart, after all. If not her, then definitely Carl or another member of his family would've been targeted. Now that Ron was dead, those fears had been put to rest. She had said that she was willing to kill him if he tried to do anything to hurt her and she hadn't been lying at the time but...oh, god...

"Carl?"

"I'm right here."

They were at the Grimes House. Carl had taken her home with him. They were actually in his bedroom. When had they gotten there? Had she been that out of it?

"He...he..."

"I know. I saw him do it."

"You made sure that I didn't."

"Yeah."

"...thank you..."

"I'm gonna take care of you as long as I can, Enid. That's how this works."

"I-I wanna take care of you, too."

"You do. Every day. Stay here, I need to check on Judith."

"There's still the stranger to worry about. Jesus or Paul or whatever the hell his name is..."

"I'll be right back."

"I'll be right here."

"...you promise?"

She nodded.

A part of her wanted to run away and never look back but what good would it do? It wouldn't make the pain stop. Running away would actually hurt her more than staying. Alexandria was home base, now. There were people who she would miss terribly behind its Walls. People like Maggie, Glenn, and Aaron. And Carl. She didn't want to leave him behind. Also, Enid knew for a fact that if she ran away, he would chase her to the ends of what was left of the Earth. There would be a whole search party put together, which would waste resources and time. She didn't want to cause trouble. She didn't want to put anyone in unnecessary danger and...

More tears spilled out of her eyes as the bed shifted and Carl spooned up behind her. He buried his face in her shoulder and Enid could feel him crying, too. They laid there for a long while, trying to process what had happened. The day had started out so normally and now it was a huge tragic mess, all before noon. Christ, it wasn't even noon yet! Slowly, she turned around and he held her tighter, rolling onto his back. Reaching, she found the pulse point in his wrist and he found the one at her collarbone. Ron was dead but they weren't. They were still breathing and...

"Why did he do it?"

"Sometimes, the sadness is just too much."

"No, that I get. I just want to know why he did it like that. Why did he make everybody watch? Why did he make his mom watch? What...was it supposed to be like one last 'up yours' to everyone? A 'look what you made me do' type of thing? And as fucked up as it is, I can't help but be glad that he just went after Pete before doing it. He could've done way worse."

"We're both fucked up because I feel the same way. I thought...I've been scared he was gonna come after you. I had dreams, nightmares of him coming after you."

"Same. I was scared that he'd hurt you or your dad or even Judith."

"Someone needs to go check on Sam."

"Someone needs to stay with Jessie. I was pissed at her for asking me to use my pussy as a band-aid. I really was but she meant well. She just wanted everyone to be okay. She tried."

"She did."

"...life can be a real bitch, sometimes."

"Yeah."

/

The Next Evening...

It wasn't the first and unfortunately, it would be far from the last sunrise funeral he had been to.

The rest of the day had been spent in near silence. Everyone that had a job to do still did it but there was so much gloom in the air. Carl knew the feeling all too well. It had been at The Camp after the Walker attack, on the road from the destroyed CDC, The Farm after Sophia, The Prison...it only made sense that it would come to Alexandria. Bad things happened. Bad people happened and it couldn't be avoided.

Still, the pointlessness of it burned. Knowing in his mind that Pete and Ron had made their own choices didn't stop his heart from screaming for a better answer. It didn't stop him from feeling guilty for not trying harder to get through to Ron. Yes, the only person that could've saved Ron was Ron at the end of the day but could he have said something, done something differently? Half of a family was Gone and given how they looked during the service, the other half didn't have much longer to stay. Jessie had laid down on Ron's grave and Sam was mute, staring but seeing nothing. Carol and Denise were staying with them but the sadness...god, the sadness...

"He spoke well. Gabriel."

Enid was standing by the pond near the gazebo and he jumped down to join her.

"Giving a good eulogy's the least he can do after the shit he tried to pull."

Maggie had overheard him talking to Deanna, calling the Group nothing but monsters and sinners that the ASZ needed to be protected from. Thankfully, Deanna hadn't listened but the damage was done. Gabriel was persona non grata among them and it would be a long time before Carl forgave him, much less his dad. It had taken a lot but Michonne had stopped everyone from ending him. If they did, it would prove him right and risk their place in Alexandria. The best thing to do was to keep showing Deanna that they were good people and to let Gabriel stew in his own juices. If he saw them as monsters, then he could go back to being on his own or look to the Alexandrians for protection and friends. To the man's credit, he at least seemed genuinely sorry now.

"Jesus isn't an asshole. He's from a place called The Hilltop 10 miles West from here. It was a museum before The End. Now, it's a Walled Place like here. There's a big brick house, lots of FEMA trailers, a doctor, livestock, blacksmiths, and tons of crops. Way more than I can grow, even with your dad and Maggie helping me for years. He wants to take a squad to his Leader to make a trading and protection deal. They've got another one with a place called The Kingdom about 8 miles North of there and it's working out. You were right about more Communities. There are definitely assholes out there that we'll have to deal with but right now? We found new friends."

"Wow."

"Yeah. The Council's going to let everyone know tomorrow morning and get on the road. Your dad told me what's going on now because he wants me to come with them. I'm the main farmer and the beekeeper so I guess that means I'm important."

"You are. I'm going to stay behind with Judith if he asks me to come with you guys. I want to see the other Communities and meet new people but I...I'm not ready to be far away from her yet."

"I get it. Maybe one day we can go on a Run together or something. A road trip would be fun."

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

"After we get the deal done, I hope we can bring back a cow. I fucking love cows."

Carl laughed at that and she punched him in the shoulder, thankfully without her brass knuckles.

"Shut up, cows are great and oh my god, we're gonna have cheese again! And real eggs and milk, too. I'm gonna make you and Judith grilled cheese. I make the best grilled cheese..."

Even if it tasted awful, Carl would love it because she made it for him. He still felt the gloom but Enid was making it better. She always did. Talking to her, listening to her, just holding her hand helped him remember the good before the bad. She was like Michonne, Judith, his dad, all the people he was close to. He wanted to live. That was plain truth. He was willing to fight to live but having people close to his heart, people who wanted and needed him to stay alive? It kept him from giving into the lingering demons inside of him. Everyone had their demons. Everyone had their monsters and not everybody could hold them off. Ron, Pete, and so many others had proven that. But, for the time being and hopefully well into the future, Carl could.

And Enid should be a part of that future. He really wanted her to be part of it.

/

"Olivia helped me put it together. It's a Best of Alexandria box. It should make the negotiations go faster and every road trip needs snacks, you know?"

"I do. Good job, Enid."

Hearing praise from Michonne Grimes made her feel 20 feet tall. Her and her husband, not just because they were Carl's parents but because they were the Best. Rick and Michonne were what every Survivor should strive to be, every LEADER. They knew what to do and when to do it so if they said that someone was on the right track, they were.

"Carl's not coming with us."

"I know. He told me yesterday. He wants to stay close to Judith. He's a good big brother."

"He's a good man in general."

"Just like his dad. That's why we're with them."

"...that and they're cute."

Enid laughed and Michonne beamed at her before climbing into the RV. Carefully setting the crate down, she watched as Rick and Carl talked on the porch. The two of them hugged tightly before Rick got in the RV with Michonne and Jesus. Abraham and Tara were putting the last of the gas in the RV. With Rick, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Abraham, and Michonne all being part of the delegation, Carl was going to be in charge of the Grimes Group. If need be, he would also be the one in charge of the ASZ's defense and a voice on the Council with Sasha. Deanna and Reg would visit The Hilltop and The Kingdom after everything was set. For now, both Monroes would stay behind and continue concentrating on expanding the ASZ's territory.

With the addition of livestock and horses would come the need to clear more area before building more of the Walls. More solar panels had been found and were already being installed in people's yards, as well as the common areas. Deanna also wanted to build a playground and Enid was already planning her Run to help. That would be the Run she would take Carl with her on. Carl was creative, resourceful, and just the idea of getting to spend so much time with him without adults? Yeah. It was happening. Maybe not before spring but it would happen and it would be...

Carl carefully passed a drowsy Judith to Olivia and headed right for her. Passing the crate of goods to Tara, she met him halfway. Gathering her in his arms, he pressed a deep kiss to her lips. Surprised but pleased, Enid immediately responded, standing on her tiptoes and embracing him tenderly. Dimly, she registered catcalling and a couple of honks from the RV's horn but she could barely hear it over the pounding of her heart.

When had Carl gotten so bold? Who or what had inspired him and how could Enid thank them?

Her eyes drifted open and Carl kept cupping her face, looking at her as if were memorizing her.

"You come back home to me, all right?"

His voice was husky, filled with more Deep South than ever, and it made her knees wobble, as did the fierce look in his periwinkle gaze. Carl Grimes may be precious and adorable like his sister. He may be a sweet Southern Gentlemen with a heart of gold but he was very much a grown man, now. Enid wouldn't be forgetting that fact anytime soon and neither would anyone else.

"I'll do my best."

"Then, I'm not worried. Stay close to my parents and get it done. I know you can. "

"I'm gonna bring us home a cow and some chickens, Scarecrow. Just you wait."

"Hell, yeah. Go, so you can come back and I want that grilled cheese. You promised."

"I did. I gotta go. Everyone's waiting..."

"Come back to me."

"I will. I...never mind..."

"Say it."

"It's too soon."

"No, it's not. Say it. Please say it?"

"...I love you. I love you, Carl. So fucking much."

"I love you, too. Go."

Carl pecked her lips, gave her behind a quick squeeze, and headed back to the porch. Once Judith was back in his arms, he used the giggling toddler's hand to wave to her. Enid smiled as she waved back, getting into the RV.

That was her future. Everything that had just happened was what she wanted her future to be. She wanted to be a part of a Community. She wanted to be part of a family and she wanted it with Carl Grimes. Anything could happen. Anything and anyone bad could happen at any time. Tomorrow was never promised. Hell, with The Dead roaming around, the next hour was never promised but if Enid had a choice, she would fight to stay as long as she could.

After losing her parents, Enid never thought that she would feel happy again. She never thought that she would feel like she belonged anywhere. As time passed behind Alexandria's Walls, she had resigned herself to the fact that she would be alone for the rest of her life. She wouldn't have friends or family again, both by choice and by circumstance. She would always be too hurt to try and nobody would be brave or patient enough to try.

She had been wrong.

The Virus, The Spread, and The End had changed everything, broken everything.

But just because things were broken didn't mean that they couldn't grow again.

All it took was time, patience, and a bit of luck.

All it took was someone to care.

[crossfitkodiak]

Let Them Keep It

I don’t really know what I’m going to say here. So if it’s okay with you all, I think I’m just gonna talk for a little while.

Cool?

Cool.

I usually wish I had better news for people. Not that I go around reporting on all the bullshit happenings in everyone’s life’s, but rather, I truly wish sometimes that I didn’t feel the impulse towards honesty.

This year is going to be like a lot of years before it. Someone is going to hurt you. Someone will break someone else’s heart. And it may not be a relationship, friendship, or even an acquaintance, but someone this year will show each of us that not all humans show compassion and that it tends to be saved for someone else.

My goal most days is to just be someone that sixteen year old me would be proud of. Proud to see. Proud to know. Proud to be. And sometimes I fail in this. A lot of days I do, honestly. I find myself angry or getting worked up for minuscule reasons. I find myself forcing patience when I wish it was just a natural state. Patience and compassion are both learned behaviors for me.

I think there’s a reason we don’t have all the answers to all the stories we tell ourselves to get by. It’s that blind sort of acceptance of the fact that, “no, this is true.”

But, no it’s not. That wouldn’t make any sense.

“No, still true.”

Oh, c’mon, man. Really?

“How are you this naive?”

I’m not, I’m just saying...

We run. Hard. We run from things that we shouldn’t and I’ve always found that kind of fascinating about humans. About people. They will run so hard and fast from those that treat them well and show them the love they deserve. They will defend to the end people that manipulate and run around them. We will do anything to play devils advocate for the assholes and the users and be the first to point out the flaws of kindness and even making an attempt at understanding.

I find myself back up here, in my brain a lot throughout the day. I think. Probably a little too much and too often. I’ll find myself zoned out, a thousand yard stare on my face, just... thinking. Never with a ton of direction and never with any real sort of intent. Just a wild flashing of thoughts and sounds and yeah, yeah, yeah okay I’m back now, what was I doing?

Burn it up. I tell myself that a lot.

It, for whatever reason, always brings me back to my center. Always shows me how to get back home. Before a heavy lift. Before a MetCon that has me worried. Before a difficult conversation. Before telling someone something I’m scared shitless to say. It’s a reminder.

A reminder that honestly... fuck this. To hell with the hate. The negativity. I don’t make resolutions. Or, I haven’t before... but, what the hell, I could try to call this something other than what it is... and it is that. Sticking feathers up your ass doesn’t make you a chicken and saying, “This isn’t a resolution,” before you make a resolution doesn’t make it anything else.

Let it go, man. Just let it go. People are going to make the choices they make. They’re going to choose the people they choose. And they are going to do the things they do. That’s the thing about people: at the end of the day, people do what they really want to do. No more. No less.

One of the best pieces of advice my mother has ever given me about relationships, in any capacity or form, is, “If someone leaves you and says, ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ believe them. Because they’re right. Fuck yeah it’s them. Let it be theirs.”

When people show you what you mean to them, believe them. Let them keep it. That’s their choice, not yours. They have, with that decision and in that moment, shown you what you mean to them.

Listen me to. You are fucking glorious. You are full of light, regardless of whether or not you see it. You have something to offer everywhere and in every spot you find yourself. You’re going to stumble. Your light will tremble. Don’t let others dictate its brightness. That’s not up to them.

Don’t take on the bullshit of others. I know people want to. I know, because I do it all the time. There is something strangely enticing about the stress other people feel. Always something just a little bit curious about it. Something interesting about why this causes that, but with you that does not cause this.

Be there. Let them vent it. Let them breathe it. Don’t take it home with you.

Leave it in that tiny notebook on the bar in your head. It’s after hours and last call has come and gone. You’ve had your bourbon. The ice is melted. Your bottle is empty. And you will never solve the stress of someone else. You will never truly figure out why we do what we do.

It’s time to go home.

Time to take care of yourself.

All we can do is be there.

All we can do is be kind.

Show compassion.

Be understanding.

And it’s hard.

Believe me, I know.

I know of plenty of people that do not like me and lord knows there are plenty of people I do not like. But in those moments, when we could exchange a scowl or sneer or snarl, I always just feel this tiny reminder and push against that bar in my brain.

... Compassion is a learned trait with me.

I just smile and nod, even if it’s not returned.

That’s not the point.

... Being understanding towards others is something I’ve built.

I leave it alone.

I leave it where it is.

I let them keep it.

It is theirs, after all.

Please remember that we are more than the experiences we have in our tool belts and more than the actions of others. We will still be here long after we have become an after thought to the uncaring and ignorant.

Allow ourselves to find compassion and understanding within ourselves when we have a tough day, week, month, or even year. Let us not jump to the conclusion that we are weak or failing or ill equipped for this life set out before us simply because it can at times be a heavy thing to carry. I don’t have all the answers for my own life. Nor do I want them. Life should be more than a series of guesses you have about what’s around the next bend in the road. It’s more than just waiting for something to begin or end.

Someone told me one time that the only thing you can really depend on are the thoughts you have and the actions you take. When I have a thought, I hope I’m brave enough to give it real consideration. When I move, I hope I can move with some poise and effort. No laziness. No lack of want or need. The world deserves better than your half assed attempts at whatever you’re dancing around. Stop. Grab it by the fucking lapels and drag it somewhere new. Somewhere better.

Let it in. Feel it. This is one I’m bad at sometimes. I sometimes lack the courage to really feel what’s circling above my brain stem.

Let this be an honest moment. Move ahead.

Move with intent. Gnash your teeth and pound your chest if you need to. Scream as loud as you can, if that’s what it takes. Do what you need to do. But, it’s time to start taking care of yourself.

If you’re looking for bravery today I hope you find it. And if you’re looking for someone to just give a shit, hopefully you find that here.

A friend of mine told me recently that what makes me a good person is that I only want to help. I only want to add to. He also told me that it’s okay for me to look out for myself.

And that I should.

Burn it up, man.

Let it go.

Let them keep it.

It is theirs, after all.

[redlemonz]

Day #3

Fuck everything. I can’t deal with this, what’s even happening. Ugh, all I have is this continuous warm, stabbing-like pain inside me which won’t just go away, following what felt like a bitter end to last night. Being human absolutely sucks to begin with, but even more so when you’re just a sensitive and emotionally vulnerable asshole with a chemical imbalance in his head which tells him everything is way worse, and you should deserve to feel way worse.

Day 3 - upside down & inside out

The above basically sums up the morning so far today. I woke up and punished myself, and will probably continue to, (trust me, it’s not really a choice I can make) for my actions last night. I’m an on-going detriment to myself as it is, so the real question is, why am I being one to her - even more than I already was. Just leave her alone & stop finding literally any excuse to contact her, even if it’s with good intentions - It’s not about you and it doesn’t matter anymore. Give her what she wants for a change - not you. She put up with your bullshit undeservingly for long enough.

Work. It’s a Thursday.. inching closer to the weekend - ugh, screw the weekend. Finding it difficult enough today to keep myself in tact at my desk as it is, let alone in my own lonely presence at home. I even shifted my scheduled yet unscheduled shower crying session to a different location - my car during the drive to work. Gotta change things up after all. Prior to leaving though, for some unknown reason today I decided to reattach my detachable hood to the coat-jacket-thing I’ve been wearing to work for the last couple years. Of all days, I feel like I needed it today. Not because it’s raining or anything - it’s actually a beautiful day (in which I picture myself walking BBT with her at One tree hill after work, hand in hand - great). Aside from being a wondrous fashionable alteration, I believe it’s probably more the fact that the hood gives me a false sense of security, as it shields me ever so slightly from the cruel world. I can keep to myself, only looking ahead and not having to expose myself to more, unnecessary features of society in what’s around me. Fashionable change aside, a change in myself is what I need fullstop to try get use to life without her. I can’t be the same guy I once was, as it’s all too familiar to my daily life with her. I have to be someone else.. I have to be something else (homage to the fictional guy who’s identity I’m saved on her phone under as). Which brings me to the daily cup of coffee I drank at work with the other two. No sugar or milo mixed in today (self made mocha recipe). I wanted to hate myself like the rest of the world and taste the absolute bitterness of life literally, and it definitely didn’t disappoint in that regard. I don’t deserve the sweetness. During this coffee time, I was also now starting to fail in my facade of chipper-ness. In fact I couldn’t help but openly admit to the other two, that unlike yesterday where I was trying my best to be upbeat and fine about things, that I’m not. I’m broken. I know it’s what thy wanted to hear as they saw right through me the last couple days anyway - and it’s time to start facing my own truth.. even if it’s slowly and steadily. Thankfully I was able to contain the tears. Im getting by through making small talk with other colleagues who don’t know about these circumstances, and being genuinely happy for them where I can. Glad to hear that your back injury is improving and that you’re attending all your medical appointments. Glad to hear your pregnancy is going swell as ever now, after everything you’ve been through. Glad to hear you’ve finally promoted to another team - you deserve it. Glad to hear that you think the new Doctor on the show being a female isn’t actually a problem - you’re fantastic. And so on. I just want to be able to be glad for her. Which once again it dawns upon me the constant emphasis and repetitive reminder that I need to exit her life.. to make things easy for her. Considering easy is what she wants. Pretty sure it’s quite distinguishable by now with everything written thus far that I don’t fit that/her criteria. I’ve never really been good enough when it comes down to it. I feel exhausted. It’s been a long as hell day at work & my anxiety has picked up, though still controlled as it’s still a small dose (which I am extremely thankful for). Somewhat ironically she’s actually helped me gain enough strength during our relationship to battle it - for now anyway. Let’s see, another memory to blabber on about just sparked (obviously it did - because this whole damn thing is about her and almost anything, as insignificant as it may seem, can form a link or be symbolic if your mind & heart are assholes to you) as a result of a colleague asking one of the ‘the three’ to borrow his umbrella as she broke the other one of ‘the three’’s umbrella and still owes him a replacement. Back when I was still stuck in the friendzone yet still head over boots for her, I had this cool umbrella with a samurai sword handle. She accidentally broke it through tripping down a small, not-very-steep hill on one of our many mountain walks together. I was just glad that she was alright. Then she stabbed me with said broken part of umbrella. Yup. Another accident (I hope), which caused my left thumb to continuously bleed. Never in my life I was so psyched to have brought an umbrella, and especially have the events follow in the way they did (with the exception of her falling). She so cutely wrapped up my thumb and first aided me with her scouting skills, with a bunch of leaves and whatever else she could find. My heroine. To top it all off, my thumb received a couple kisses from her, and eventually so did my cheek when we parted ways that beautiful day. From that day I still have a voice recording of her at the summit of the mountain as she was singing/shouting out the lyrics to Kelly Clarkson’s “since you’ve been gone”, of which the lyrics are now more than appropriate (yes I know, most songs are about relationships and love, if not bitches and money - which in a way are also their own relationships?). Her hair tied, black and white polka dot top & light blue jeans with a purple cardigan wrapped around them - looking as beautiful as always.. but nevertheless, back to the point at hand - She still owes me an umbrella. Though not really - the kisses I received that day and her company make up for it pretty well, and can generally make up for anything she breaks.. even a heart.

Back home (yes I’m currently living a very exciting life as you can tell). Just watched a bit of an episode of Friends - Ross still in denial though clearly crazy about Rachel, whom is unaware and worried about their history together being weird if she were to consider moving in as his flatmate (which he desperately desires). The ultimately classic television adaption of the most special kind of love between two human beings - a balance of being best friends, lovers, partners and perceptively & potentially, even soulmates. Looking back again at my recent wonderful weekend (+sick day monday) in which my failed attempts to win her back for longer than that precious time we had cherished together, I sunk low, although true to my own geeky belief, by utilising that very TV reference of us being Ross & Rachel. Definitely didn’t click straight away as to why she bursted out laughing about my overly geeky and lame reference comparison, until she made me realise I admitted to being Ross. Fuck. Long ago my group of friends had this ongoing debate with me that I was the Ross of our group, which I took as an insult at the time comparative to the other characters, cause well, it’s Ross. I overly defended my case for ages, and to this day am still firmly of the idea that I’m a combinative representation of all the main characters. Let’s break it down. Like come on - the under-appreciated punny comedy of, yet easy to pick on, Chandler (obviously my favourite as mentioned first). The obsessive Monica who can’t handle dirty dishes & has to make scheduled plans. The mainstream, basic bitch, Rachel (oh shit, please note this definition does not at all apply to 'her’ being Rachel as per my geeky romantic acclaims above. She is waaay more). The randomness and open weirdness offered by Phoebe. The comic idiot, Joey (although I don’t even have to act the part). And fine yes, the hopeless romantic, and sensitive Ross. Wow - What an positively arrogant bastard I just became during my usual scheduled time of despairing and regretting stuff. Though I don’t mean to be arrogant - as the point I was trying to bring across is that we all have various qualities and attributes from each of the Friends. They all reside in each of us to some extent, so you can’t just be fitted to one. Back to her - she just snapped me? What in the world? Okay calm down dude, relax you idiot. Don’t ruin this moment - it’s not a big deal - it’s just a snap (even though it visibly means so much considering your little bit of anxiety subsided without you initially even noticing, and you’re grinning like an idiot at her name popping up on your phone). And open! Oh the absolute bloody hell. It’s a snap of the same episode I just watched, on the plus one channel certainly enough, because it’s an hour later. The caption - “hi friend” on top of a very distinct character’s face. I’m Ross. That cheeky yet adorable little minx (Minx? What? So I tend to say non-sensical stuff & my brain freezes more than usual quite often when it comes to her). So I switch over to the same channel, grab my phone & send her a “hey friend” snap right back - and you can probably guess quite easily.. that it was on top of a portrait view of Rachel. So we snapped and chatted ever so slightly more this evening - and my whole day turned upside down - which means I’m the right way up now.

Finished writing up my little pub quiz for tomorrow at work. Snuck in a question right at the end about the snowy mountain I was at with her on the weekend, which I couldn’t resist. Well I mean I guess I could have, but didn’t want to. It just felt right and left me with blissful content, ending the quiz on such a beautiful note. Just like us. It all get quite unintentionally poetic, and I loved it. Plus people need to learn more about the Country they live in, so I’m really doing everyone favours here (says the hypocrite). What makes this night even better is that she just did my quiz. I know she didn’t probably care to talk to me or anything, which doesn’t matter because she did my quiz & I’m full of smiles as a result. I kept to my word and didn’t call her though. We made it work as I sent her real time snaps of each question on my TV, blanking out the rest of the background or hiding other questions with various random emojis. One by one. She even cutely reaffirmed the 10 second rule of answering without me having to mention anything. The smartypants ended up with 6/10 (even a 6.5 really - heh, as she chose correctly on one of them the second time but I strictly took her first answer). I can guarantee its gonna be higher than the average amongst large groups tomorrow when I conduct this live. She even cracked a few of her classic puns for one of the questions which wasn’t surprising at all, and kept this stupid smile glued to my face. Then we wished each other a nice weekend and night ahead & parted our ways. Though it was a simple experience, it was a momentous feeling - especially with that last question. I wonder if she thought back to our weekend also because of it. Maybe it made her smile? I hope so. It certainly made me.. did I already mention that? Well shit, this can’t be good.