FIFTY TWO. through the valley

THEO had started to become accustomed to the overwhelming feeling of fear. You're a crybaby. At least, that's what she told herself every time she felt the warmth of tears welling up in her eyes at the sight of something grim. Her father called her the term at the beginning of the end, forever drilling it into her mind that the only thing she was ever good for was crying. And she believed him. For the longest time, she agreed to the words he said to her. And it wasn't until he died and she became alone when she began to question what he said and if it was true. Was she really weak?

There was only one person in the decaying world that believed in Theo; Adeline Grimes. And right now - the little girl that was once left in her care had no clue if she made it out of the prison alive. Theo survived, she couldn't even remember how, because for some reason everything that happened within the span of the fifteen minutes was all a blur to her. All she could gather was that she was alive. She survived. It was the one thing that every non rotting person had in common. They survived. They were alive.

Not many had a choice. She knew that, too. And Theo also knew how to survive - how to make it out alive. She had been doing it since the start, she saw no reason to give up now. She couldn't. For the sake of the two she was left to survive with. Rick and Carl Grimes. Father and son. One was beaten down to a pulp, which from the stories Adeline had told her, seemed to be an occurring thing in the man's life. And the other, he was angry. Carl Grimes was mad at everything and everyone around him, everything that had happened to him finally piling up and suffocating his mind.

There were days at the prison when Theo would spend time with Carl, they got along quite well - but a minor inconvenience would always disrupt the peace. It didn't matter how serious it was, or if it was serious at all; Carl was like a ticking time bomb. And Theo never understood why, not even Adeline would tell her the reasons of his short temper. The widow would always say the same thing when she started poking around for answers,

"You have to understand that Carl is a lot like you in some ways, Theo. He's witnessed stuff and experienced some of the worst pains... Things that no child should ever have to go through. When he wants you to know, you'll know. He's a good kid. A great one."

And that was all Theo could get out of the woman. And she knew that if Adeline wouldn't tell her, no one would. But now, without having to ask, Theo gained access to one of Carl's reasons. He lost his little sister. The one thing he had sworn to protect and keep safe, he lost. So when he snapped at Theo for attempting to comfort, she backed off and let him be - not because Rick told her to, but because she knew that nothing would heal his pain.

The more she walked between the two Grimes, the more she realized how much she truly loved and cherished the prison. When she felt tense or awkward in a situation, there were people she could run too - places she could hide. But now, she had no other choice but than to face the feelings head on. The tension between Rick and Carl was thick, and Theo was sure she could cut it with a knife if she tried. The son blamed his father for all that happened.

Blood stained the skin of the eldest, the majority of his face swollen while his shirt was torn and marked with a crimson red. He strayed in the back, mostly because his futile attempt at walking could never amount to the fast paced stride that his son lead the three of them with. The red handled machete that belonged to his sister was tightened in his grasp, never letting up on the surprisingly strong hold he had on the weapon. Rick, for the first time in his entire life, had absolutely no idea where Adeline was. Or if she was even alive. And that scared him.

The mere thought of his sister being dead caused the grasp on her machete to tighten, nausea swimming through his stomach and body aching with immense pain. Rick had lost his home and his daughter. He wasn't going to lose Adeline too. He couldn't. She was the one consistent thing in his life. He had never lost her before, and he sure as hell didn't plan on it happening any time soon. He wouldn't let it happen. Yet each time he looked down at the bloodied machete and the two figures of Carl and Theo, he was reminded of how screwed they were. But he wouldn't say it.

Carl kept up his fast pace in the front, his flannel and shirt beneath drenched with sweat - eyes swollen slightly from crying. He hid it from the two behind him, every so often lifting his wrist to wipe away the tears that fell from his eyes. His palms were stained with blood, the necklace his aunt had given him grasped tightly within his palm. The 22 pendant indented in his pale skin, the rough grip he kept on it digging into his palm more and more each second. She gave it to him to protect, to keep. And that's exactly what he would do. Carl didn't plan on letting the necklace out of his sight.

A soft yawn broke through the tense silence, water rimming the eyes of Theo as she lifted her hand to her mouth to muffle the sound that caused Rick and Carl to glance her way. The rifle she had taken from the prison was strapped over her body, hanging off her back as the empty carbine moved against her jacket. The pistol Adeline had given her was buried deep inside of the messenger bag hanging from her chest, along with other things that she had managed to grab while escaping the prison. They'd been walking for hours, and the only thing they had done was raid a half empty barbecue shack - which is where an argument broke out between the father and son duo. They were all very exhausted.

Currently, they were making their way through an abandoned neighborhood with houses lining the streets. Broken down cars littered the roads, some of them parked in the middle of lawns with the ghosts of their owners in the infected air. "Stop." Rick's voice cracked through the barrens of his throat, sounding different due to the amount of swollen skin on his face and the blood in his throat. "This one's as good as any." He informed, keeping his free hand curled around the pit of his stomach as he motioned towards the house that stood to the left of them. "We'll stay here tonight."

Theo nodded in confirmation as Carl simply cocked his pistol before making his way towards the entrance of the house. Rick sighed in defeat at his sons antics, a cough spluttering out of his weak body as he turned to look at the eleven year old beside him. "Stay here. Keep watch, and-" He started to speak, another wave of wheezy breaths leaving his lips as he steadied himself. Theo nodded, "Yell if something happens. I know the drill." She finished for him, Rick nodding thankfully at her words.

Watching as the father and son made their way into their hopeful abode for the night, Theo tiredly sat against the wooden steps of the front porch. The rifle on her back that was almost as big as her body smacked against the surface behind her, making it even more uncomfortable than it already was. Although she was exhausted from the fight and the hours of walking, she forced her eyes to stay open - keeping watch of the abandoned neighborhood. The very quiet neighborhood that made her very tired.

It had become clear to her that over the months of living in the prison, she had taken a chunk of Adelines personality and made it into her own. When Theo first met the woman, she was crying in the forest over her friend being killed. More specifically, killed by Carl Grimes but, she never tried to use that against him. She was ten at the time, and her life in the apocalypse had consisted of surviving five months on her own after her father died, and then miraculously found by Woodbury only to be used as a child soldier for a war that wasn't even hers. She was scared.

But, there were times when she couldn't hold in her tears. Even when she tried really hard to do it. When her friend died, she thought that she was going to die too. She was terrified. But, she was saved. Then a few months later, Patrick died on the same day that the old woman Miss Sara did. She cried then, too. The last thing Theo wanted was to be seen as weak. She was strong. She knew that, Adeline knew that, even Daryl did. Yet she still despised herself when she cried. It was weakness. Her Father used to tell her that crying was a one way ticket to deaths front door. And that... well, that almost made her cry too.

Before her thoughts could drift deeper into the past, the muffled sounds of a fist banging against a wall was heard within the house behind her. Theo furrowed her brows, standing up hurriedly as yells broke through the air -"Hey, asshole! Hey, shitface! Hey-"

The string of curses were cut off abruptly, the eleven year old already rushing into the house with a hunting knife tightened in her grasp. "Watch your mouth!" Rick strained, the father and son standing in the middle of the hallway as Theo slowed her steps and stood silently behind the figure of Carl. The eldest of the three stood at the end of the hall, his sisters machete held tightly in his palm as he glared at his son- anger furrowing his brows.

Carl stood a few feet in front of Theo, unbeknownst to her figure behind him. She watched silently, a look of worry weaved within her sweaty features. His brown hair was stuck to his skin, slight remnants of blood dirtying the fabric of his clothes. "Are you kidding me?" The teen retorted, "If there's one of them down there," He spoke, motioning towards the door to the basement that Theo had just noticed - "They would have come out."

Finishing his statement, Carl glanced back at Theo before rolling his eyes and taking off deeper into the house. Rick defeatedly looking down at the wooden floorboards that creaked underneath his weight, ignoring the presence of the eleven year old and venturing farther into the home. Watching this, Theo shifted uncomfortably on her feet and adjusted the windbreaker material of her jacket before sighing deeply, "Guess the house is clear."

Sliding the hunting knife back within the loops of her belt, she lifted her head and eyed the stairs that led up to the second floor of the home. Wrapping her small palm around the railing, she spared a glance in the direction of the several pictures that were hung up against the wall. Some were crooked, and there were some that had been shattered and laid across the wooden stairs. The ghosts of the past remained in the air, the young girl looking solemnly at the photographs before making her way up the stairs.

The floorboards let out several small creaks underneath her light weight, which made her mind drift off to the thought that if someone that was older or heavier than her walked up the stairs - the creak would be a lot louder. It made it easier to identify her surroundings, and taking in little details like that made her feel more comfortable in the home. For now. At the prison, her shared cell with Adeline made things a lot easier.

For example, when the woman would take night shifts - Theo would always know when it was her returning to their cell because there was always one more pair of footsteps with her. Most of the time it was Daryl, the two of them being the main ones who took night shifts together in the guard tower. Daryl would always lead Adeline back to her cell, seeing as his was only a step away. If it wasn't him, which was rare, it was Glenn - and Theo began to realize it was way more noticeable if it was because of the amount of hushed laughs that would drift through the sleeping cellblock.

Venturing up the stairs of the house, the girl pushed the thoughts out of her head and focused on the present. Broken glass from the photograph crushed underneath her boots, her steps quiet and soft which was something she learned from Daryl - eyes curious as they drifted up the rest of the stairs. Once she reached the top, she kept her hand curled around the railing and eyed the second floor of the home. There were multiple rooms, most of the doors already opened and checked out by the father and son below.

Floorboards creaked underneath her weight as she explored the level, peeking into a room that she guessed was the master bedroom. Theo stepped into it, her small eyes scanning the cluttered room - clothes had been strung across the room and out of the opened closet, drawers from the dresser halfway opened and some of them torn out and sitting on the floor. It was like the home had been frozen in time - destroyed and never picked up.

A mirror sat perched in the corner of the room, dust and fingerprints marking the glass as Theo neared it. Picking up a shirt from the floor, she removed the passed time that tiredly rested against the mirror. Allowing herself to come into full sight, she finally grasped her full appearance. It had been a while since she had, because one thing the prison was vacant of was full body mirrors. And looking at herself, she had changed completely.

The day Atlanta was bombed by the military, was her birthday. She had just turned ten. Her home in the city was burned and removed from the world, she and her father had no other choice but than to run and never look back. Then, five and half months later, she lost her father to a group of dead ones. Theo saw him die, she saw him get torn apart right in front of her - she felt his blood spray against her skin. Then she was alone. For a long time. Until she wasn't, she found a home again. One where they cared.

And due to recent events, she lost that too.

And looking at herself in the mirror, she had changed. Theo was taller, she looked older and more mature. But not that much, she could still see the ghost of her old self within her features as she stepped closer to the mirror. Dark bags of exhaustion were marked underneath her eyes, freckles dancing against her pale skin as her blonde hair was tangled and greasy with sweat. "Ew." She spoke, ruffling her hair up in attempts to rid of the greasy texture.

Looking down at her shirt, she realized it was a bit too small - seeing as when she lifted her arm a small part of her stomach peeked out from under the fabric. "Oh no," Theo commented, hurriedly pulling it down and attempting to tuck in within her pants as she looked around the room. Her pants weren't clean, dirt and blood staining the torn fabric from falling one too many times or taking down a walker by kicking it in the shin.

Pulling the strap of the empty carbine over her head, Theo sat it against the wall and moved away from the mirror. The material of her windbreaker jacket clashed together at the movement as she sat the messenger bag on the surface of the queens size bed. The eleven year old shuffled around the room, rummaging through the piles of clothes that sat scattered and abandoned across the floor. There has to be something my size, she thought - furrowing her brows in concentration. She heard footsteps coming up the stairs,

Carls.

"What are you doing?" The boy questioned, entering the room as the girl straightened her back with a random shirt in her hand.

Theo awkwardly cleared her throat, "Trying to find clothes."

Carl scoffed and shifted on his feet, standing within the door frame with a judgmental look - "Are you serious? That's what you're worried about? Something to wear?" He questioned.

Letting a deep breath of frustration slip past her lips, the girl dropped the shirt out of her hands and allowed it to fall back to the floor. "You're right," Theo failed to find a reason to argue with the boy, seeing as a fight was exactly what he was looking for. "I will keep looking... for supplies." She informed, confusion filtering through her as the sound of a laugh broke from the boys lips - "What? What's so funny, Carl?" Theo questioned curiously.

"Nothing." He retorted, "Just shocked you're not in a room crying about something." Carl informed with a snarky tone.Theo huffed, watching as he walked away and out of the room. "He is so not a cool kid." She whispered underneath her breath and turned away from the door to face the mirror again. "Where are you, Addy?"

Two hours passed and the sun had begun to set thirty minutes ago, which left the cleared out house to be swallowed in complete darkness besides the little light that the moon provided. Theo had scoured the entire second floor, bumping into Carl a few times only to turn on her heels and choose another room - even if she had already been in it. Surprisingly, she found some clothes that actually fit her size. They weren't perfect, given they were meant for a boy to wear, but she managed to make them work.

The eleven year old even found a few medical supplies tucked away in the two bathrooms that were upstairs. After she quickly changed into the oversized boy shirt and baggy pants, she tucked her hunting knife into the loops and made her way downstairs. Carrying a backpack in her grasp, she entered the dark living room just as Rick began pushing a couch towards the front door.

There was already a thick wire around the knob, connecting it to the closet door next to it - which she took notice of as Carl finished off the knot. "I tied the door shut." He informed his father, a snarky tone to his words as Theo sat the half full backpack down and moved to help Rick push the couch.

"We don't need to take any chances." The eldest Grimes replied, sending a grateful look Theo's way as she curled her hands around the couches arm rest and pushed it. She strained slightly, becoming embarrassed at the obvious weakness in her bones as the beaten half to death man had more strength than her.

Carl furrows his brows, looking at the two choosing to pick an argument instead of helping. "You don't thing it'll hold?" He questioned, glancing over to Theo whose boots squeaked across the floorboards as she pushed the couch. "Why is it so heavy?" She whispered, huffing aggravatingly before pushing again.

"Carl." Rick scolded, aggravation within his weak body.

His son scoffed, "It's a strong knot! Clove hitch." Carl informed, causing Rick to stop pushing and look up as Theo stumbled at the sudden change in weight. "Shane taught me." The boy added, his words causing the small girl to abruptly stop, her eyes widening slightly as she glanced between the father and son before her. She knew who Shane was. "Remember him?" Carl inquired smartly.

Rick looked to his son, emotionless eyes as he shifted on his feet. "Yeah, I remember him. I remember him every day." He started, a look of anger boiling within his stomach - "Is there something else you want to say to me?" He questioned, leaning forward to eye his son with a testing expression.

"No." Carl retorted, "But I'm sure Adeline would. If she was still alive." His words filtered through the tense air - Theo feeling as if someone had punched her in the gut as she took a step back and pulled her eyes to the floor and away from the boy. Before he could get a reaction out of his dad, Carl walked away, his footsteps echoing against the stairs as he reached the second floor of the house - a door slamming close from within the depths.

Silence engulfed the two bodies that stood in the living room, Theo finally lifting her head from the floor to look at Rick as he moved towards the couch and gave it one more shove towards the door. The girl could feel her heart beat rapidly in her chest, the tense argument causing her palms to clam up as she grabbed the backpack from the floor and moved over towards Rick as he sat down on the cushions of the couch. "I- uh... I found some bandages and stuff upstairs," She informed.

The man looked up from where he sat, which gave Theo the chance to see the tears that gathered within his eyes. "You need to eat." Rick spoke, grabbing the bag from her hands and standing back to his feet. Bending down, a pained grunt left his lips as he grabbed one of the plastic bags of stale croutons they had found. Holding it out to the girl, she took it with reluctance and nodded. "Can you make sure that... can you make sure Carl gets some?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I can." Theo informed, nodding in confirmation.

Watching as he walked away from the living room, she glanced down at the stale croutons and sighed deeply. In attempts to remove the situation from her mind, Theo held the bag of food to her chest and began making her way up the stairs. Remembering that there had been a bedroom that resembled a boys, she tried her luck there and approached the already closed door.

Pressing her ear against the wooden frame, she listened in quietly for any sign of life beyond the door. Furrowing her brows, she braced her hand against the knob just as the small sound of muffled sobs was heard within. Stopping her movements, the eleven year old shifted on her feet and let out a quiet sigh. Theo moved away from the door and placed the bag of stale croutons against the floorboards. Without a plan, she knocked on the door.

"Carl?" Theo's soft voice broke through the air, "I brought you some food. Your-... I thought you should eat something. You need to." She informed, "I'm not gonna bother you anymore, I might go find a room to cry in." Theo joked, a small laugh leaving her lips as she quickly shook her head - "Okay, that's not funny. Anyways, the stale food is in front of the door." She finished.

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It was nighttime. Well, a few hours past it. Theo was supposed to be asleep hours ago, because that was when Adeline left to go on another night watch with Daryl. But instead - she was up, the electrical lantern turned on and her sock covered feet dangling off of the chair. She sat in front of the metal desk, spinning slightly in the swirly chair. Theo eyed the drawers, her hands acting on instinct and opening the first one her eyes rested upon.

There was a small creak that emitted from the movement, causing her to wince at the sound before slowly opening it up the rest of the way. Theo scooted the chair closer to the drawer, her eyes squinted as they landed on a worn out journal that sat within the drawer. It was hidden slightly underneath miscellaneous medical supplies and feminine hygiene supplies that Adeline had more than likely tossed in there.

Curiously, Theo carefully pulled out the journal and closed the drawer back to how it was. Sitting the book down onto the surface of the desk, she untied the leather strings and flipped it open. At first, the ten year old didn't quite understand what she was looking at until it suddenly came into focus. It was a drawing. "Huh." Theo hummed, eyeing the man on the page that wore a warm smile - happiness radiating in his features.

"Wait a minute." The kid whispered, quickly lifting her head over to the wall behind the desk. Multiple pictures stuck to the tiles by a single strand of tape, some of the faces being familiar to Theo seeing as they were taken recently with the new polaroid camera that Adeline had found in one of the stores she raided. There were pictures of the doctor smiling brightly alongside Glenn Rhee, and if Theo remembers correctly, Beth told her he was Addys bestfriend.

There were several others, one that was taken by someone else of Adeline standing in the middle of Hershel and his two daughters - the four of them wearing warm smiles. One of Addy and Rick, the brothers arm outstretched in the frame to be able to take the picture and Carl was behind them- giving both of them bunny ears. One, that Theo found really funny, of Daryl Dixon flipping off the camera - it was slightly blurry, and the small girl figured it was because Adeline was laughing while taking it due to the crazy top hat that sat on the rednecks head.

But the one Theo was looking for was hidden beneath all of the pictures, her small hands reaching out to grab it from the wall for further examination. It looked like a wedding picture, and Adeline was wearing the white dress. There was a man dancing with her, and it was the same exact man that was etched within the papers of the journal. Shane. That was the name written out beneath the drawing, Theo's fingers tracing the word with furrowed brows.

Flipping through the rest of the book, the faces within the pages became familiar to her. There were a few more of Shane, but the deeper Theo dove - the less she saw of the man. The journal included pictures of Rick, Daryl, Glenn, Carl, Maggie, Hershel, Beth, Judith, Carol, and more faces that were unknown to Theo. But they were all drawn, messily but with every ounce of care. It was a book of Adelines memories, of people she loved endlessly.

The twelve year old was so immersed in the drawings that she didn't even pick up on the sound of footsteps nearing the cell. Adeline's figure was confused upon entering, the sound of Daryl's voice asking what was wrong causing Theo to frighteningly jump at the sudden sound. "Well... that's not sleeping." The widow spoke, pushing the curtain back as she peeked into the cell. "It's just Theo, Daryl." She answered, turning back to the archer who stood behind her - "Thanks for walking me back,"

"Mhm." Daryl nodded, glancing into the cell at the little girl that was caught red handed at the desk before walking away and to his cell that was only a few steps away.

Adeline turned to Theo, "So-"

The sound of three loud gunshots rang from the streets, pulling the eleven year old out of the dream. Gasping for air, her hands grasped the sheets of the small bed that she had fallen asleep in last night. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, cold sweats making her skin as she hurriedly sat up and grabbed the pistol out of the messenger bag she carried. Slipping on her boots, she raced down the stairs and into the living room just as Carl slammed the back door in the kitchen and entered the house.

"Carl?" She spoke, rubbing her eyes tiredly with her free hand as she furrowed her brows in confusion. "What happened? Are you okay? Where's Rick?" Theo questioned, watching as the boy pushed by her and towards the living room. Stumbling after him, she flicked the safety to the pistol back on and entered the room.

Rick laid across the couch, his eyes closed and not moving which caused Theo to stop abruptly. From where he stood, he looked like he was dead. No words left her mouth, fear coursing through her as she looked back to Carl who paced the room angrily. "I killed three walkers." He spoke, pulling the blue flannel off of his arms and tossing it to the ground. He wasn't talking to her.

"They were at the door." Carl continued, not even paying attention to the girl behind him as she took a step closer to him. "They were gonna get in, but I lured them away. I killed them." He repeated, eyeing his fathers unmoving body on the couch. "I saved you. And Theo. I saved us! I didn't forget while you had us playing farmer. I still know how to survive. Lucky for us," He whispered, not even daring to take his eyes away. "I don't need you anymore."

Theo looked to him, wanting to say something but finding her throat to be closed and barren of any words. She felt guilty. But she didn't know why.

"I don't need you to protect me anymore." Carl added onto his words, moving closer to his father. "I can take care of myself. You probably can't even protect me anyways. You couldn't protect Judith! You couldn't protect..." He stopped, Theo's eyes glued to him as he searched his mind for his next words. "Hershel or Glenn or Maggie. Michonne, Daryl, or Mom. You couldn't even... You didn't even protect your own sister!" He yelled, his words causing Theo to flinch as the harsh tone.

"You just wanted to plant vegetables. You just wanted to hide! He knew where we were and you didn't care! You just hid behind those fences and waited for... they're all gone now. Because of you! They counted on you! You were their leader!" Carl screamed, tears rimming his eyes as Theo held back her own.

"Carl..." She started, attempting to approach him as he jerked away from her touch - "No!" He yelled, "I'd be fine if he died." Carl informed, grabbing an empty bag off of the floor and storming back out of the house, leaving the girl alone with the unmoving body of Rick Grimes.

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carl poppa...
straight up savage