★。＼｜／。★
｡☆✼★━━━━━━★✼☆｡
❝ heart made of glass, my mind of stone ❞
𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖎𝖎

CARRIE SAT, AWAKE with Maggie on the front porch, with her bed being occupied, and little to no tiredness in her ( as it seemed the same for the rest of the house ), she had nothing else to do, but to sit on the porch, in the night air, with Maggie by her side.

Two beams of car headlights shone in front of them, from a far, getting closer and closer, before the car came to a stop in the yard, two men stepping from it. As the two got closer, Carrie recognized one of them to be a Asian man that she and Maggie had seen when they went found Lori. 

He held a shot gun in his hands and had came with a dark skinned man, who was wrapped in a grey towel. The two eyed the house as they walked closer to it, standing under the porch light that hanged above, they didn't seem to notice the two girls who sat sectioned off and away from the light.

The man she recognized eyed the steps, that had accumulated some drops of blood, before turning to the man she didn't, "So do we ring the bell?" He turned back to the house, "I mean it looks like people live here." 

"We're past this kind of stuff," the unknown man spoke up, "aren't we?" The two began to walk up the steps onto the porch, "Having to be considerate."

Once they made it up in front of the door, Maggie spoke up, "Did you close the gate up the road when you drove in?" The two turned to them, finally noticing them sitting next to each other, hidden in the shadows.

"Uh, hi." The Asian man stepped forward a bit, "Yes," he looked behind himself, to where he came from, "we closed it. Did the latch and everything. Hello." He gave a small wave to them. "Nice to see you again. We, uh, met before briefly."

"We remember." Carrie nodded.

"Look, we came to help." The black man spoke, causing the two to stand up, "There anything we can do?" The man grunted, causing the two's eyes to trail down the the mans bloodied and bandaged lower arm. Seeing their look, the man explained himself, "It's not a bite. I cut myself pretty bad though."

"We'll have it looked at." Maggie spoke to the man, before look at the both of them, "We'll tell them your here."

"We have uh-" The Asian reached into a bag hanging on his side, "-some painkillers and antibiotics." He pulled a pill bottle out, "I already gave him some. If Carl needs any."

"Come on inside. I'll make you something to eat." Maggie told them, opening the door, leading them inside the house.

The two lead them to the room Carl was staying in, and upon entering, Glenn took his hat off, and scratched the back of his head, speaking up, "Hey."

"Hey." Rick acknowledged him.

"Um," Glenn paused for a second, "We're here, okay?" He assured.

"Thank you." Lori thanked, while Rick put a hand to his head, his other hand clutching Carl's.

"Whatever you need." The black man said, and after a moment, the two turned and left the room, Maggie and Carrie following after them.

CARRIE SAT IN a corner of the room as Maggie held the man, now known as 'T-Dog''s arm down, while Patricia sewed the wound shut. The man was grunting in pain as the needle and tread got woven into his skin, a heavy sweat visible on his forehead, but Patricia payed no mind, and continued sewing.

"You got here right in time." She said, "This couldn't go untreated much longer." She peered at the orange prescription bottles, reading a name off them, "'Merle Dixon.' Is that your friend with the antibiotics?"

"No ma'am." The man known as 'Glenn' answered from his place in the doorway, "Merle's no longer with us. Daryl gave us those, his brother."

"Not sure I'd call him a friend." T-Dog groaned out though his pain.

"He is today. This doxycycline might have just saved your life." Patricia informed, "You know what Merle was taking it for?"

"The clap." Glenn answered, causing Maggie to look up at him, and Carrie to raise a questioning brow, not quite understanding, "Um, venereal disease. That's what Daryl said."

"What's venereal disease?" Carrie questioned, causing the group to look over at her, Glenn scratched the back of his head, as Maggie gave her an awkward smile.

"We'll talk about that when your older." Maggie told her.

"Well..." Patricia spoke, causing the group to turn back to her, "I'd say Merle Dixon's clap was the best thing to ever happen to you."

"I'm really trying not to think about that." T-Dog groaned once more.

Glenn moved from his place, crossing the room and exiting from the other side, Maggie's eyes following him as he went. Noticing this, Carrie rose a brow, suspicious look growing on her face, as Maggie's head turned back forward.

SHANE RETURNED ALONE. Breathing heavy, and panting , he returned with a bag slung over his shoulder, but Otis wasn't by his side. They emerged from the house at the sound of the truck engine, a relieved look appearing on Ricks face at the sight of the man.

"Carl?" Shane questioned as he passed the bags over to Hershel and Glenn.

"There's still a chance." Rick told him.

Hershel had almost walked into the house with the bag he held, eager to carry on the surgery, but stopped and turned back noticing Otis wasn't in the car, nor beside Shane, "Otis?" He questioned, looking to Shane.

Shane breathed heavily, looking at the man before giving a response, "No."

At the response, the group paused, the loss saddening them.

"We tell nothing to Patricia." Hershel spoke of the mans wife, who was still inside with Carl's body. "Not till after." He reasoned, "I need her." Hershel then turned and began to rush back into the house, with Glenn, who was holding the other bag, following.

Shane opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to speak, but no words escaped his lips. Noticing, Rick took the man into a hug, allowing him to gather his thoughts.

Once he was released, Shane spoke, explaining himself, "They kept blocking us at every turn. We had nothing left. We were down to 10 rounds. Then he said-" he paused, "He said he'd cover me. And that I- I should keep going. So that's what I did. I just... I kept going, but I-" He trailed off, lip curling, "I looked back and he-"

Maggie's mouth was open as she looked to the ground, processing the words Shane was saying. Noticing her reaction, Carrie went up to her hugging her side, as Lori rubbed her back.

"I tried." Shane's voice was as low as a whisper, but Carrie heard his words.

Rick grabbed his friend by the shoulder, "He wanted to make things right."

Shane rubbed the lower half of his face, looking behind Rick seeing as tears began to fall from Maggie eyes.

THE SURGERY WAS successful, for the most part, and the boy was asleep getting rest. Rick and Lori sat on the porch steps, huddled close together, in the night air, waiting for the news. Behind them the front door slid open, and Hershel stepped out from the door frame.

Upon his arrival, the two turned to the man, who whiped his hands with a rag, "He seems to have stabilized."

Rick let out a relieved breath, putting his hands on his knees as he hunched over, "Oh God." Behind him, a smile appeared on Lori's face, as Hershel smiled down at them.

Rick straightened and walked up to the man, wrapping him in a hug, before letting him go and walking backwards, back to Lori, who spoke, tears of joy on her face and in her tone "I don't have words."

"I don't either." Hershel looked down, "Wish I did." He paused, looking at the excited couple, "How do I tell Patricia about Otis?"

The two's excitement faltered as they thought back to the situation. Looking to his wife, Rick spoke, "You go to Carl." Lori nodded at his words, running a hand along her mouth, as Rick turned to look at the man before them, "I'll go with Hershel."

Hershel turned, causing Rick to follow. He opened the door and walked inside. Rick departed with him, his wife grabbing his wrist in a short hold, before letting it go, watching as Rick and the group that came out with Hershel went back inside. She looked back at Shane, who had been leaning on a car, silently watching the interaction, before turning and walking up the porch steps herself, heading inside to Carl.

Carrie somberly strided towards a oak chair, that sat lonely in a corner of the living room, only accompanied by a coffee table, just as tall as the chairs arm rest, with a small, shade covered, table lamp on top of it. 

She sat cross legged, in the dim orange light, to not let her feet touch the ground. Her hand was to her mouth, her teeth softly gnawing at the hard nails that stretched just a bit longer than the tip of her fingers.

Carrie stared blankly down at the wooden floor below her, finishing with her pointer finger and moving on to her middle, as the wails of the mourning widow protruded through the silence within the house's walls.