CHAPTER SIXTEEN,
greene

SAMANTHA FELL IN love with track when she was only ten years old. She had been watching the olympics with her big brother, her eyes glued onto her screen and her heart soaring when she watched the candidates running.

After Cathy Freemen won the gold metal, she felt inspiration blossom in her chest. She wanted to race the speed of light, feel the wind blow through her hair and adrenaline course through her veins.

Shane had noticed her desires, soon to become not only her biggest supporter but her greatest motivation.

Track was something she was good at, her favorite thing. It was a good thing needed in times, especially dire ones like these.

Tall weeds brushed against her ripped jeans, tears running down her cheeks and making her face feel numb. The weight in her arms was heavy, but she dared not to let go, not even when Rick wanted to hold him.

She clutched onto the life as if it were her own, but as of right now she wish it had been her own instead of his. Her godson had been shot, and she wished the bullet had gone through her instead.

"How far? How far?!" Rick screeched, Carl Grimes's blood splattered against their shirts

"Another half mile, that way!" The man who had put the bullet in Carl shouted.

Samantha glanced at the unconscious weight in her hands, his blood staining her clothes and her skin, the gunshot still ringing in her ears. She remembered everything; the gunshot; Carl falling; Rick begging her to let him carry his son but she dared not to let go. She knew she was faster than Rick - her godson would have more of a chance if she held him. He needed that chance, he deserved that chance.

In the center of a field was a house, next to it a barn. None which seemed touched by the cruelty of the world - almost as if it were normal.

Samantha zoomed past a wired fence, quickly adjusting Carl in her arms. She was remembering everything about him, trying to keep the thoughts that consumed her head. Hope had to be kept alive to endure in moments like these.

She threw a glance at his frantic father, who's eyes were glued on his son, so many different emotions tearing through his face and mixing with all the tears and the sweat and the blood. She couldn't fail him, she couldn't fail Carl.

Strangers exited the house. In front of them was an older man with white hair sticking from his head; behind them was a boy a few years younger then Samantha, clutching a bat; Two his left were two blondes, one the same age as the boy and the other older; To the right of the blondes was a pretty brunette with a short haircut.

These people were Samantha's saviors - Carl's saviors.

She almost fell to her knees when she reached the porch, the older man giving her questioning, guarded eyes. "M-my godson," She breathed, trying to keep the boy in her arms as breath failed her. "Your m-man - shot him. P-please help us, help him!"

"Otis?" The older woman repeated with shock.

"Get him inside, quickly!" The older man ordered. Samantha ran up the porch, her bones beginning to ache and her lungs burning from both air and relief. She wanted to so badly rest but the sight of Carl kept her going.

Samantha carried him into a bedroom and set his body on the bed. Rick rushed through the door not even a moment after, his watery eyes never leaving his son. The twenty year old didn't know where Shane was, but she came to the conclusion he was still running to the house.

"Pillowcase." The older man demanded, directing it at Rick, who was lost in his shocked daze, still trying to process what had happened minutes before. Samantha collapsed into the armchair, her sweat drenching her.

"Is h-he alive?" Rick stammered, his voice quiet and shaken.

"Pillowcase, quick." The man repeated sternly, and Rick finally obliged.

Samantha looked at Carl.

Color no longer existed on his skin, which was only now layered with sweaty. He looked dead, completely unmoving and showing no signs of life. The old man placed a stethoscope on Carl's chest, and the room seemed to go quiet, Samantha's heart pounding in her ears and her blood pumping rapidly.

Carl was a fighter, just like his father.

"He's got a heartbeat," The older man confirmed. Samantha felt her body release a breath she didn't even know she was holding. "Your name?"

Rick was unable to comprehend or form words, his mind on pause, his emotions taking control of his body and shutting everything else down. Samantha glanced at him before at the older man. "Rick," She spoke up. "That's his son, Carl, and I'm Samantha."

"We're going to do everything we can, okay?" The man assured loudly, knowing that the father was in a state of shock. "You need to give us some room, now."

The father stood there limply, so Samantha stood up from her seat and taking a final glance at Carl, she led him out of the room. "C'mon." She urged through a whisper, bringing him to the open door and outside.

Samantha could still smell the blood.

She gazed at her hands. They were stained with red - but they weren't simply hers.

Not walker's, not anybody else's, but Carl's.

She could feel the vile rise up to her throat and she felt her body fall to the steps of the porch - she hated blood, she could never stand blood.

Her brother and the man, Otis, finally made it. Shane had almost blown off his head if it weren't for his knowledge of the farmhouse.

Shane had worry etched on his face, his expression matching Otis's. "He's still alive?" Came her brother's voice, searching his sister and best friend's eyes. Rick was still lost, his mouth opening and closing again.

"He has a heartbeat." Samantha answered, rubbing her head with trembling hands. She could feel the blood sticking to her hair.

Rick lifted his hand and accidently smeared blood on his forehead. Shane looked through his bag and pulled out a rag, beginning to wipe the blood off of his best friend's face. The three men went inside, but Samantha couldn't. She could smell the blood, it filling the house like a bad odor.

But the blood on her hands - they wouldn't come off.

It felt like her brain was stuttering, every fiber in her being going on pause. She was slowly piecing together what had happened. What had happened to her godson, the boy who she watched grow up as if he were her own.

The deer.

The bullet.

Otis.

Running.

Blood.

Blood.

Blood-

His blood shouldn't be on her hands, it should be in his body. Carl shouldn't have gotten shot, he shouldn't have been on that bed clinging onto life - none of that should've happened. He was just a boy.

Samantha begin trying to wipe the crimson off her flesh. At first her movements were slow, but then blame and anger took over. It should've been her, she should've gotten shot, she should've bitten the bullet, she should've-

Hey, hey, hey," Warm hands clasped her own, and forced her to to stop. Her body was completely shaking as she met the eyes of her brother, who was absolutely devastated but he kept it more under control than his baby sister. "He's going to be okay, Sammy."

"It should've been me," She whispered frantically, her green eyes filling up with hot tears. "I should've been the one shot, I've should've-"

"Stop," Shane hushed her, bringing her into his arms and cradling her. Her tears were running down her cheeks and leaving cold trails. "Nobody should've gotten shot, you hear me? This shouldn't have happened."

But it still did, and now Carl Grimes was close to being kissed by death.

Minutes turned into an hour as the survivors sat in the front room quietly, no words or sounds leaving the dry barrens of their mouth. They were all consumed by their emotions, drowning within them in the silence.

"I wanna be my dad for Halloween - I wanna make him proud."

A weakened smile formed on her trembling lips, going back to the day where she had lunch with Lori Grimes at the Grimes residence. She remembered at how they laughed, a sad smile pinned on the mother's face. After Rick was put into a coma, Samantha and Shane Walsh visited them everyday, their presences comfortingthrough the tragic time.

Once the memories became too painful, she listened in on the hushed voices from the bedroom, the aching in her bones almost being louder. Shane and Rick weren't sitting too far away, her brother keeping an eye on him and trying to bring assurance to him.

The Walsh siblings had to keep a watch on him. The father could break any moments, and they needed to be the ones to put his pieces back together.

The bedroom door opened and the brunette, who Samantha remembered her name had been Maggie, stepped out. Her father, Hershel Greene, was the one working on little Carl.

"Rick." She said hurriedly, the anxiousness laced in her tone making the three survivors spring from their seat.

They followed her into a room, and Samantha held back a gasp at the sight before her. Carl was struggling, writhing in pain under the metal tongs that were in his stomach, beads of sweat ran down his face like heavy rain. He was screaming for his dad as Patricia held him down - at that moment his godmother wanted to shove all these strangers away, she wanted to protect him from the pain.

But the pain demanded to be felt as Hershel dig for all the fragments, so she restrained herself.

" You," Hershel ordered Shane. "Hold him down." Shane rushed passed Samantha and went to Patricia, holding the screaming boy down as she watched on , it being excruciating to watch.

The screams took a toll on Rick, and he stepped forward with anger. "Stop!" He roared. "You're killing him!"

"Rick, do you want him to live?"

Rick's eyes darted to his son, then to Samantha. It was as if he was looking for comfort in her eyes - guidance. She needed to help him."Rick, do it!" She shrieked and at her demands he finally held out his arm, wincing when the needle broke skin.

Samantha knelt at the side of the bed, her face wet from all the tears as her godson screamed more. "You're going to be okay!"

Then suddenly, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and they closed, his body stilling and his screaming ceasing. Samantha felt her eyes go wide and her stomach drop to her stomach. Shane had a look of shock, looking to his baby sister before trailing towards Hershel.

"He passed out," The older man assured, before pulling out tongs from the boy's bloodied stomach, revealing a piece of metal that appeared to be one of the many fragments. "One down, five to go,"

Hershel turned to the young adult. "You're lucky you got here so quickly. The boy was losing blood by the second," He then looked at the father. "That gave him a chance."

Samantha felt relieved at his words and removed some of Carl's hair from his head, placing a kiss to his forehead. He might've been sweating, but his skin was ice cold. If Lori saw him-

Lori.

Her name made Samantha choke back a sob, a feeling of revelation punching her in the gut. His mother was looking for another child while her own was suffering. She needed to know. She needed to be here.

"Rick," The twenty year old whispered. His eyes barely hers mine but she knew he was listening. "Lori doesn't know."

Realization dawned on his face, color leaving his skin and he fell back into the chair on the side of the bed in shock. "My wife..." He uttered, Shane hurrying to be by his side. "Lori needs to know, she needs to know that her son is lying here."

Hershel understood, but was against it. "You can't go more than fifty feet from this bed." He stated sternly.

Rick stood up stubborn, his weariness causing him to stumble and Patricia was quick to help him. "She needs to be here. I need to get her."

"Man, I would break your legs before you even reached that door," Shane stated. "Carl needs you here - he needs your blood. Be smart about this, Rick."

His words hung in the air and it was quiet for a few moments. Samantha could hear the slow ticking of a clock, it seemingly bouncing off the walls throughout the whole farmhouse.

"I'll go." A voice offered.

They all turned, glancing at Maggie at the entrance of the bedroom, determination crossing her face. "Maggie-" Hershel was immediately cut off by his daughter.

"I'll take the fastest horse. Lori will be here in no time."

I like her already.

Hershel was conflicted as he stared at Maggie, but then his features visibly softened and he finally gave in. Rick peered at her, gratefulness evident on his tired features. "Thank you." It was quiet, but the brunette had heard it, and responded with a sympathetic smile.

After he told her his wife's location, she leaped into action and was already bounded out the door. Shane brought Rick into the frontroom, and Samantha placed a hand over Carl's, sniffling at the sight of his weaken body.

She wanted to be brave like her big brother, she wanted to be brave for both Rick and Carl, but fear consumed her and she couldn't control her emotions as much as her brother could. She wasn't Shane Walsh, and maybe if she was it would be so easier for her - maybe she wouldn't so terrified as she is now.

━━━━━

The sweat and the humidity make Nathan Barton's clothes cling to his skin and his hair become greasy. It hung in his face and made annoyance flutter in him, so he turned to the pretty blonde next to him with hope. "You got a ponytail?" He questioned.

A smirk grew on Andrea's face, but seeing the expecting look on the soldier's face she pulled one from her wrist, watching in amusement as Nathan threw his midnight hair into one of the manliest man buns she's ever seen.

It had been an hour since a gunshot momentarily interrupted they're search, an hour since they heard anything from Rick, Carl, and the Walsh siblings. The sun was going lower and the survivors were becoming more tired - all they saw were trees, and the trees saw them.

Sophia was out there however, and it was all Nate's fault. If he had only listened to Rick, this wouldn't have happened. The dread that filled his stomach when him and the cop had made it back only to find out Sophia never returned was still lingering there, refusing to leave him and only producing more guilt.

Nathan Barton was nothing but a failure, a fuck up.

"You still worrying about it?" Andrea asked Lori, who would pause every now and then.

"It was a gunshot." Lori stated the obvious.

"We all heard it." Daryl said impatiently. Like Nate, Daryl wanted to find Sophia as soon as possible. He attached himself to this mission, and the soldier admired the redneck for it.

"Why one? Why just one gunshot?" Lori demanded. Nate rolled his eyes, knowing it was just a wasting of sunlight.

"Maybe they took down walker." Daryl muttered, his eyes scanning his surroundings.

"Please don't patronize me," Lori snapped. "You know Rick couldn't risk a gunshot to take one walker, nor would Shane or Sam. They'd do it quietly."

"Look, ma'am," Nathan stepped in, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice. "Instead of wasting our time, we could be finding Sophia. Shit happens, lets move on."

The brunette turned her glared to him. "I don't wanna hear anything from you, either," She said. "If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be in this mess-"

Andrea stepped forward. "Lori." She said sharply, her eyes narrowing at her. The brunette rolled her eyes but still shut her mouth, and the blonde gave Nathan an apologetic smile - to which he responded with his own.

"Shouldn't they have caught up with us?" Carol asked timidly, the sound of her voice making Nathan shift his eyes away. He couldn't even look her in the face anymore, because every time he did, he saw the pain he has caused her.

"There's nothin' we can do about it anyway. Can't run around through these woods chasin' echoes."

"So what do we do?"

"Same as we been. Beat the bush for Sophia, work our way back up to the highway," The Dixon instructed.

"I'm sure they'll meet us back at the RV."

They continued through the trees, Andrea noticing how silence the solder has gone. He was in his own head while on the outside he was on autopilot. He felt all his emotions eating up from the inside and out, like his very own walker, except it was inside his head. "You alright?" Andrea questioned, matching his pace as she walked beside him.

Nathan glanced at her. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine." She didn't believe him, but she didn't press it any further.

There's more to worry than Nathan Barton.

"We'll be losing light before too long," Daryl stated to Carol, who had a look of dismay on her face. "I think we should call it."

"Lets head back, we'll pick it up again tomorrow," Lori added gently. "And we'll find her tomorrow."

Nathan wanted to correct her on her statement, but he knew better. He had to learn the hard way of making promises he couldn't keep.

As they stalked through the woods, Nathan turned once he heard Andrea cursing. She had stumbled through a spiderweb, grumbling to herself.

"As the crow flies my ass..."

Suddenly, her mumbles turned into terrified screams. "Andrea!" Nathan belted, bolting into her direction, refusing to lose her like he had lost Amy.

He had made it, but someone else had too.

A horse trotted across the clearing, a pretty woman wielding a bat and a unmoving walker laid across a horrified Andrea. "Lori? Lori Grimes?" The woman asked, her country accent seeping through her words.

"Im Lori!" The mother identified herself.

"Rick sent me. You gotta come now."

"What?" It was clear that something was wrong. Perhaps her worried about the gunshot was right all along.

"There's been an accident. Carl's been shot." Nathan felt the color leave his face. One child missing, and the other having a near death experience. Fate was really shitting on them this week.

Without an ounce of hesitation Lori climbed onto the back of the horse. Daryl stepped forward. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, we don't know this girl," He protested. "You can't get on that horse!"

"Rick said you had others on the highway?" The woman disregarded the redneck. "That big traffic snarl? Back track to fairburn road, two miles down is our farm, you'll see the mailbox - names Greene!"

Without waiting for any response she trotted off, leaving the group behind with racing thoughts and pounding hearts.

Carl Grimes had been shot, Sophia Peletier missing.

It was a lot to digest.

Little Carl's face flashed in his mind, before it slowly trailed to his best friend, Samantha Walsh - his best friend of fifteen years. She needed him now more than ever, Nathan needed to know if she was safe.

Either it was a stupid decision or not, he had made it. He wanted to search for Sophia, but his brain kept repeating Sam, Sam, Sam. He turned to Glenn Rhee, who had a dazed expression while staring off where the country woman had came from and left.

"Glenn," The moment he said his name he jolted out of his thoughts. "You have the keys for that jeep cherokee?"

Glenn furrowed his brows. "Yeah, why?"

"Give them to me." With confusion bubbling in his stomach, his friend obliged and dug through his pockets.

Daryl overheard their conversation and whipped around, his glare hardening at the soldier. "Where the hell are you goin' now?" He demanded, his words not fazing Nathan Barton as he broke through the trees.

"Hey, I'm talking to you man bun!" Daryl Dixon yelled, when suddenly the same walker that attacked Andrea rose form the ground with a groan. The redneck scoffed. "Shut up." His arrow made the corpse fall for the final time.

━━━━━

Lori Grimes was crying against her son's chest the second she entered the bedroom, tears streaming down her face and her sobs making Samantha's heart clench. The mother has done some questionable things, but her love for her first born and her only born son had never been the one questioned.

"My baby boy, my baby boy," The mother crooned, her husband's hand in her back.

"If it weren't for Sammy being so quick," Rick started. "His chances would been...

Lori turned to younger Walsh with her caramel eyes, all bloodshot and full of sadness. One second she was near her son, the next her arms were wrapped around Samantha. The actions of the mother shocked the twenty year old, trying to remember the last time the two had embraced.

"Thank you." She whispered, her words overwhelming Samantha so she pulled away, trying to muster all the strength in her to smile, but she just couldn't.

Shane noticed his sister's shaking, so he took her by the shoulder and left the two parents alone. He sat her down at the couch, gazing at the stained red on her hands and clothes before back at her.

"It's a good thing I've pushed you to take track."

"Please, don't, not now." Samantha whispered, looking at her brother.

"You heard that man, he said if you weren't quick enough - Carl would've lost so much blood."

Samantha let out a shaky sob. "I should've pushed him out of the way, I should've-"

"Sammy-"

"No, Shane," Samantha interjected. "I was right there, I heard it before it hit him. I had time. Rick and Lori don't deserve to see him like that, none of them deserve that."

Instead of saying anything, Shane grabbed the back of his baby sister's head and brought his lips to her forehead, croaks leaving her throat as the siblings sat in the loneliness of the front room.

It seemed that tragedy kept befalling the Grimes family, as if they were cursed. How many times could they stay strong until they were officially broken.

Shane wanted to take her away, for them to survive on their own - just Shane and Samantha Walsh against the world, but she cared too much for all the others in the group around her and maybe that was her weakness.

The sound of engine lifted both of their heads, and Shane got up to investigate. He went outside, and came back in with a small smile. "It's for you." He announced.

With furrowing brows paired with confused eyes, she got up and stood next to him. The sight of the jeep cherokee wasn't what interest her, but of who was in it.

Her best friend rushed out of the car and onto the porch, throwing his arms around her and causing her to stumble back. Samantha smiled into the hug, before she realized something and pulled back. "But, Sophia-"

"I know," He cut her off. "The others are looking for her, and I know damn well that Dixon won't stop searching for her either. I just needed to know that you were safe."

Samantha patted his shoulder. "I'm a professional badass, nothing can kill me."

Their discussion ceased and the three walked back into the house. Nathan bowed his head at Lori and Rick, before taking a seat next to his best friend. The sun was slowly falling behind the horizon, darkness creeping up and causing the colors to shift colors.

Hershel soon stepped into the room, his presence making everyone stand. "Is he alright?" The mother was the first to ask.

The older man sighed. "He's out of danger, for the moment." For the moment. Samantha couldn't figure out if that was good or bad. "But I need to remove those remaining fragments." He added.

Her shoulders tensed up. More pain for little Carl. "But, that would mean-"

"I know," The elder cut her off. "That was the shallowest one. I need to go deeper to get the others."

"There's more to this, isn't there?" Nathan said, running a hand through his greasy hair.

Hershel nodded. "His belly's distended, his pressure's dropping, which means there's internal bleeding. A fragment must've nicked one of the blood vessels. I have to open him up, find the bleeder and stitch."

They were far from being out of the woods. Carl was struggling, but he was a survivor just like his dad. Samantha know deep within her heart he would make it.

"And he can't move while I'm in there, I mean at all," Hershel added. "If he reacts the same as before, I'll sever an artery and he'll be dead in minutes."

"Okay, so what you're trying to say is that you need to put him under," Nathan pieced together. "You need a respirator. Do you have one?"

"Unfortunately, no."

Otis stepped forward. "Okay, respirator. What else do you need?"

"The tube that goes with it, extra surgical supplies, drapes, sutures."

"If you had all of that, you could save him?" Rick asked hopefully, his wife moving close to him and grabbing his hand.

"I could try."

"Nearest hospital went up in flames a month ago," Otis murmured, then his eyes widened as if a light bulb went off in his head. "The high school."

"That's what I was thinking. They set up a FEMA shelter there. They would have everything we need."

This was the chance they were looking for. Carl would be out of the woods in no time.

"The place was overrun, last time we saw it. Maybe its better now."

Samantha eyed her brother, noticing the way his expression twisted up in contemplation as his dark iris were clouded with intense thought. She's seen this before countless times. He was thinking about going.

"I said, leave the rest to me," Shane chuckled. "Is it too late to take that back?" His sister knew he was referring to his and Rick's conversation from before.

"I hate you going alone."

"He won't be," Nate suddenly piped up. Samantha looked at him in shock. "I was trained for combat. If anyone should be going, it should be me."

The sight of the graditure that spread across her brother's features was new and quite shocking. It surprised her that for once in her twenty years of life, they weren't at one another's throats.

And then a stupid, but brave idea lit up in her head and she threw a quick glance at the room where her godson was. He needed all the help he could get, but before she could speak up Shane had beat her to it,

"Sammy, I get it," He spoke with parental authority. "I know how much you want to help him, and under different circumstances I probably would let you but - I can't worry about you risking your life right now, alright? Not this time," Samantha found that familiar stubbornness within her, but it was a small spark because she was far too exhausted. Her silence was enough for him to nod at her.

"We need a map and a list."

"You won't need a map," Otis retorted, bravery in his attitude. "I'll take you both there. Ain't but five miles."

"Otis, no!" His wife protested.

"Honey, we done have time for guesswork and I'm responsible. I ain't gonna sit here while these fellas take this on by themselves," Otis reasoned, guilt on his face. "I'll be alright."

The resentment that was alive within her died a little. She's realized she couldn't blame him for a hunting accident - they were just all in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Soon after, Shane and Otis prepared things as Samantha stood with Nathan outside. He had a cigarette hanging from his lips as he stared off into the horizon. It was beautiful.

She had to admit she envied these people - to have a place so untouched in a world like this was rare.

"Nate," Her voice traveled to his ears and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. "You're doing this to redeem yourself, aren't you?"

A sigh rocked his shoulders. "I'm doing this because its the right thing to do. I fucked up so many times, Sammy. I have to do a right. I won't be a failure again."

"You aren't a failure." Samantha protested indignantly.

He chuckled dryly. "If I weren't such a failure Sophia would be in her mother's arms, princess."

Samantha bit her lip and turned away from him, watching as the sky turned into a cotton candy pink. "Carl needs to live," She whispered. His grey eyes were hot against the side of her face. "He needs to beat this world, Nate - he needs that chance."

"I'll sacrifice everything I got to make that happen," He pulled the cigarette from his lips. "I won't fail the mission."

Mission. The way he said it made her glance at him. It was as if he were back on the battlefield again, back across the seas and fighting for his country.

The front door opened and the two men stepped out. Shane carried a large bag and Otis carried a rifle - the same one that shot Carl. Behind them Rick and Lori trailed behind. Nathan dropped his cigarette to the ground and then looked at her with a slight smile, as if saying a silent farewell before going over to the truck.

Shane walked back to the porch once everything was loaded, and before the little sister even realized she had jumped forward and wrapped her arms around him. "Promise me you'll come back." Samantha demanded quietly.

Her big brother chuckled. "I promise." Shane said, reaching forward to wipe the tears that had fallen from her eyes.

The Walsh siblings pulled away from the hug, and as he went to turn around Lori called to him. Shane looked over his shoulder with furrowed eyebrows.

"Thank you." The words were forced from her throat and it came out hoarse.

They both shared a look. It was not only a look of tension, but secrecy, a history that can never be spoken. A history that hasn't been forgotten between them.

Once Shane had entered the truck, it immediately roared with life and they began to drive away. Samantha Walsh watched them leave, waiting until it was nothing but a far off dot.

Unknown to them, Rick was staring at his wife.
He had noticed it all.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟnote

THE GRIMES FAMILY DESERVED BETTER

I PUT THAT ON EVERYTHING

words ; 5213
edited ; ✔️