CHAPTER TWO, 002
❝ X-MEN COMICS ARE GOLD ! ❞

SILAS stepped into his and his children's old room — now they slept in Shawn's room, much to Beth's discomfort. Silas had offered to stay in a tent he had in the bed of his truck, but no, both Hershel and Maggie had insisted that they stayed in Shawn's room and made themselves welcome. They had lived and worked together for over five months now, they were as close as family could get in this kind of world.

The room was filled with memories, both old and new. The walls, once adorned with cheerful posters and drawings, now seemed to echo the laughter and tears of the past. Silas couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia as he looked around. He remembered the nights spent reading bedtime stories to his children, the mornings filled with their laughter as they played. It was a different time, a different world.

Carl lay on the bed, his eyes open as he stared at the roof above him, bored out of his mind. "Dad ... mom?" he called out, his gaze never moving and only assuming that it had been his father or mother who had come in.

"Not your dad, sorry." Silas gave a lighthearted chuckle as he moved towards the bed and gently reached out, hand stopping before they could come in contact with the boy. "Want help up?"

"Please." Carl nodded and relied on Silas to help him sit up and lean against the headboard. He let out a groan of pain with almost every movement, but his body relaxed shortly after he had sat up. "Thank you, sir."

Silas sat on the edge of the bed, a warm feeling blooming in his chest. "Of course, kid. How are you feeling?"

"Better, my chest still hurts though." Carl spoke but tilted his head as he tried to rack his brain for who the man was, and why he could be sitting there. "I'm sorry, who are you again? You look familiar."

"Shane is my younger brother." Silas admitted. "Adoptive, but still my brother."

"You were in a picture that hung on my dad and mom's wall, from their wedding." Carl smiled brightly. He wasn't born when his parents had gotten married, he was born shortly after though. His parents had this very cottage-themed wedding, with flowers and fairy lights everywhere. The picture Carl referred to was one of his favorites, showing his parents beaming with joy, surrounded by friends and family.

Silas nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, that was a good day. Your parents looked so happy. I remember Shane and I were both there, standing by your dad's side. It was a beautiful wedding."

Carl's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Can you tell me more about it? I love hearing stories about my parents."

"Sure thing, kid." Silas leaned back, getting comfortable. "Your mom looked stunning in her dress, and your dad couldn't stop smiling. The ceremony was held in a small chapel, decorated with wildflowers that your mom had picked herself, she loved the idea of being able to do things on her own. There was this old oak tree outside where they took most of their photos. It was a perfect day, filled with so much love and laughter."

Carl listened intently, his pain momentarily forgotten. "I wish I could have been there."

Silas reached out and ruffled Carl's hair gently. "You were there in spirit, kid. And your parents made sure to capture every moment so they could share it with you. They loved you even before you were born."

Carl nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Thank you, Silas. For everything."

"Anytime, kid." Silas stood up, giving Carl one last reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Get some rest." As Silas reached the door, he stopped, his hand reaching for the dresser and what was on it. "I have this, do you want it? These comics are like gold nowadays."

"HEY, man, you're Silas?" Glenn Rhee stepped towards the man, who was watching his two children play in the yard with another little girl. The girl, with her tangled blond hair and a dirt-streaked face, was Tilly. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Silas smiled, his eyes darting around, ever alert for danger that could appear. The apocalypse had given him this feeling that there was always someone else a step ahead of him, that death was on his trail and there wasn't anything he could do. Glenn was quick in noticing his rugged appearance, the result of what he guessed was with many battles with the undead or even the living, contrasted with the innocence of his children. "You are?"

"Glenn, Glenn Rhee. Your two kids are playing with my daughter. Oh, is that okay? I can call her over, I can have her help me with something else instead."

"No, no! That's okay. They all seem happy." Silas smiled, though his eyes kept scanning the perimeter. The sunlight glinted off his sweat-covered brow, highlighting the weariness and resolve etched into his features. He couldn't shake the feeling that something bad would happen, that if he wasn't watching his children than they weren't protected. "That's all that matters."

Glenn stood there awkwardly, his senses heightened by the constant threat outside the fence. He was new at the farm too, which didn't help how he was feeling. The air was thick with the scent of earth and growing plants, a stark contrast to the decay beyond their safe haven that Glenn has had to endure. He looked back up at Silas, who seemed to be a few years older than him and just as worn by recent events. "Did you need help with watering the plants?"

Silas gave a soft smile and nodded. "Sure, that would be very helpful."

Glenn rolled up his sleeves, revealing tan arms that were dirty and probably hadn't been washed in weeks. Silas figured that maybe he could offer him a shower, but it wasn't his home or his water he'd be giving.

As they worked side by side, a silence settled between them, broken only by the laughter of the children playing nearby and the distant groans of walkers that Silas picked up every few minutes. He had a feeling he'd let Hershel know and then he would take care of them for the family. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow.

"How long have you been here?" Glenn asked, breaking the silence. He dug his hands into the earth, feeling the cool, damp soil between his fingers. He loved the feeling, it made him feel giddy, like a child.

"A few months," Silas replied, his voice low, barely above a whisper as he focused on picking weeds and watering what needed water. "Since the outbreak. I met Maggie when it started, and I brought here safely. In return, they offered me a place with them."

Glenn nodded, understanding. It was similar to what had happened with him and his group. "I get that. We've all had to find new ways to survive."

Silas glanced over at Glenn, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and respect. "Your daughter, she's lucky to have you."

Glenn smiled, feeling a sense of pride mixed with a heavy heart. "Thanks. She's a good kid. They all are." His voice was tinged with the weight of responsibility and the fragility of hope. It wasn't his biological daughter, but a little girl that he had helped after he had seen her parents be torn apart by the walkers.

As they finished up, the two men stood back to admire their work. The garden was looking healthier, more vibrant. The last rays of the sun bathed the scene in a warm light, a fleeting moment of peace.

"Thanks for the help," Silas said, wiping his hands on his jeans, his muscles aching.

"No problem," Glenn replied. "Happy to lend a hand."

With a nod, the two men parted ways, each knowing that they had forged a new bond in the simplest of moments.