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A L I C E

ALICE DUNLAP HAD LEARNED not to rely on hope to get herself by. Hope had, so-far, gotten her nowhere. Even the things that she never even knew she was hopeful for seemed to slip through her fingers. She'd learned that those things were what she'd foolishly come to take for granted.

The first of many of those things was Tyreese.

She'd known the man ever since her short time at Woodbury. He quickly became a source of stability for her and Elliot, easing their transition into life at the prison.

After Beth—and later she would find out Bob—Alice thought that she had it all figured out. She would no longer hold out hope. If she had no expectations beyond an approaching death, anything more would be considered a miracle. She first chose to implement her new tactic as half of the group broke off to seek refuge in Noah's old settlement.

Noah was supposedly a friend of Beth's. He and Alice had hardly missed one another as he escaped from the hospital just before she was brought into it. Beth was planning on going with him to find his people—to see if his community was still running—but she never lived to see the outcome for herself. The outcome, of course, being the first of many that Alice Dunlap accepted with a defeated grace.

While Alice expected nothing fruitful to come of the group's naive dedication to Beth's legacy, Tyreese's demise was not on her radar.

After weeks spent out on her own two wobbly feet—and three funerals—the girl had finally found it in herself to be thankful for something. Just a few days before the group's first real meal came around, Alice had discovered that there was no use in eating, as she could not keep anything down.

Attempting to eat, for the girl, would've been a waste of resources. So, by whatever amount of optimism granted in her own delirium, Alice was satisfied with having an excuse to starve as opposed to eating dog. She knew that nobody in the group would let her skip a meal if they had any say in it.

So, as the girl tried to rid her mind of the smell of sizzling dog-meat, she held her stare on the torn, cotton padding of her cast, using her other hand to pick at it. The yellowing material reeked of body odor, sitting just above her sunburnt skin.

Alice was wearing clothing that was slightly too big for her bloated, sickly body. It was clear that her new shirt and shorts were meant to be worn by a boy. She didn't mind, as she would've done anything to get out of that hospital gown.

But the only part that stung about the whole thing was her hunch that the clothing was meant for Carl. Not only did she think he was supposed to have been the one wearing the clothes currently on her back, but she just knew that he had voluntarily given them up, for her sake.

The girl could've sworn that she'd seen Carl carrying her exact outfit, a few days ago, in a house that they silently cleared together—not that she was catching a few stolen glances or anything. But it was Rick who ultimately forked over the clothing, not even a few minutes later.

Encased within the clothing was something hard, hidden between the dusty layers of fabric.

It was her gun.

She'd recognize it anywhere, and so would Carl. The only question in her mind was how he'd gotten it back, since the last time she saw it was before they were locked in a train-car at Terminus. She wished she could ask the boy, but that was no longer an option.

Alice and Carl hadn't spoken much since Beth—since leaving the city. The emotional moment pulled the two teens together like a magnet, but as the group became one over the loss of a few more of its members, Carl and Alice sunk into later stages of the grief that they shared, dissolving into the backgrounds of each other's lives.

Although, the boy could've never truly slipped through the cracks of Alice's focus. She always seemed to know and care about where he was and what he was doing, and the girl was in too much denial to admit to herself that Carl was doing the same. The girl pretended like the clothing didn't feel all-the-more comforting and plush just because the boy had sacrificed it for her.

She ignored the hopeful sensation she felt every time she and Carl would accidentally meet each other's gaze, acting as if she wasn't physically yearning for him to say something—anything.

Part of Alice needed the distance from him. She wanted to forgive Carl, but she couldn't yet find it in herself. The girl knew that nothing was done intentionally to her father, and that Carl was not alone when they left him for dead. But the group's heartlessness towards a stranger several months ago was not was Alice was angry about.

She was angry that Carl knew—he knew and he didn't tell her. He knew and he still decided to get close to her. He still decided to make her feel all of these things, despite the plethora of things she was already feeling about her missing father.

She thought that Carl knew her better than that, but she knew that the boy was only trying to look out for her at the expense of his own guilty conscience.

Was that what all of this was to Carl? Was their entire friendship out of pity? Was any of it real?

Even the thought of their relationship being inspired by his guilt was enough to make Alice want to vomit more than she already had. It all felt like a lie when she wanted nothing more than for Carl to be her truth.

Because Alice's thoughts prominently repeated Carl's name, the girl looked around for the boy, lifting her eyes over the small fire being used to char the fresh dog meat.

He was sitting amongst the leaves of the forest floor, holding Judith—the sister he'd somehow gotten back. His stare was locked on the ground, entranced in whatever thoughts were circling around behind his tortured eyes, as his jaw tore through the meat served to him.

Alice watched the robotic boy in his most defeated state, noticing how one of his arms remained wrapped around a babbling, fussy Judith. The girl, for a second, admired how caring Carl was. He was attentive to the baby despite not totally being present.

She remembered how the boy would often do the same for her. He was always there for her—making her feel better when she thought that nothing could—when he was going through all but the same things.

A small smile danced upon her chapped lips until she realized her memory meant that she would be the helpless baby. Carl had nothing to give, yet still found it in himself to befriend Alice, healing something that she didn't even know was broken—replacing something that she didn't even notice was missing.

One again, her thoughts circled back, trying to decipher between his pity and his friendship—if the two were even considered separate entities, in Carl's mind.

By the time that the boy finished his meal and had returned to the moment, Alice was wearing a grimace and holding a stare that she didn't bother to move. After a moment of Carl searching for the owner of the eyes that held a stare on him, the two teens locked eyes from across the fire—this time not looking away.

Instead, they shared a knowing glance, coming to a non-verbal understanding of a situation that neither of them could ever truly understand.

☆

It'd felt like years since the group had seen someone outside of their usual roster. It'd only been a few weeks since the hospital—and not many more than that since the prison—but a few weeks spent out on the open road seemed like an eternity when they were spent under the sun, scrambling for any drop of water they could find.

And they did find water, after a while. Well, the water found them. Just like Alice's gun had found its way back to her, the water had also apparently come from a friend.

However, the group—after seeing what they've seen and meeting who they've met—passed on the convenient source of water, due to the mystery of its origin. Answering their noble decline, water's true, unrefined origin rumbled in the darkening skies, before shedding a moment of relief upon the defeated people.

Several filled water bottles later, the downpour became a detriment. Too much of a good thing was never a good thing.

The group sought shelter, from the rain, in an old barn.

Daryl was the one who found it while he was off by himself. Alice always knew that the man was a loner, but he'd been doing a lot of sneaking off after Beth. She didn't blame him, as she felt the same after what she'd seen.

The humid barn was warmed by the same fire that was being used to boil the rainwater. The heat didn't comfort Alice nearly as much as the feeling of her gun making the waistband of her shorts tighten. She finally felt somewhat safe, if only for a moment.

Part of what made her feel settled was that Carl was finally getting some rest, next to the fire, with Judith in his arms. She resented herself for it, but knowing that the boy was asleep and warm—surrounded by a group of people who would die for him—allowed the her finally take a breath.

Surely, drinking enough of a helping of safe water and soaking in the radiating warmth of the barn, with her very own weapon at the ready, played a role in that too.

It'd been several days since Alice'd had enough water to feel the urge to pee. Although the foreign feeling was a cumbersome bother in her moment of peace, it was nice to know that her body still worked.

She waited for a break in the storm—one that never came—before she couldn't take it anymore. The girl quietly let Maggie know that she'd be going to use the restroom right outside of the barn. After being given five minutes before someone would come looking, Alice slipped out of the barn and back into the rain.

The girl walked the perimeter of the barn, before finding a spot in the surrounding trees that somewhat deterred the downpour. Whatever was left of the cloudy sunset barely illuminated the forest, allowing her only a few minutes to do what she needed to do.

Once she was done, the girl zipped her pants, placed her gun back in her waistband, and stepped out from under the trees. The rainfall was prominent, yet it didn't bother the girl. As a matter of fact, it almost felt good.

Alice momentarily stalled herself from going back into the barn, instead running her hands through her wet hair—the resemblance of a shower beginning to coddle the fragile girl. It was almost as if everything that'd happened to her was beginning to wash away.

The scent of Elliot's burning body—due to the fault of Carol. The gritty ash from Terminus, as well as the irrefutable smell of the smoke-grenade that suffocated her into unconsciousness. Beth's blood splatter that soaked into her cast. Knowing that her father had been dead this entire time, left to rot by someone who'd unknowingly become her favorite person.

Alice tilted her head back, opening her mouth and letting the water droplets hit her exposed tongue.

The cathartic feeling almost rinsed away her memory of the leaves she tasted, when that man shoved her head onto the forest floor. The warm rainwater neutralizing the acidity of the bile that still lingered on the starving girl's tongue was just a bonus.

All of her corroded thoughts had risen to the surface that was finally being cleansed of a torturous history.

Alice Dunlap began to cry.

The girl tucked her head down, leaning both of her hands against the wall of the barn, silently weeping to herself. The rain blended in with the salty tears that fell from her bruised eyes.

Although a bit childish, Alice wished that denial was still possible. She missed when none of it was real—when there was still some mystery about where her dad was. The girl used to pretend as though she already thought he was dead just to stop herself from pursuing hope.

But Alice Dunlap, now knowing that her father had been dead for a very long time, was once hopeful. The girl didn't realize it, but not knowing what happened to him left the possibility that he was alive—out there, somewhere.

After the fact, she was now trying to convince herself that it was a good thing that he didn't have to experience any of this. He didn't endlessly search for his two helpless children. He didn't starve or get even more dehydrated. Nobody held him hostage, or even took him. All of those sleepless nights that Alice and Elliot spent silently wondering if their father also had somewhere safe to sleep were for nothing.

Now, all of it was real and Elliot was dead. Beth was too. They both happened right in front of her. They both played on the back of her eyelids, like a movie, every time she shut them—every time she blinked. None of it was a mystery and there was no potential of dreaming a better end for them.

Alice choked out another raspy sob, not being able to hear her own voice over the loud rain.

As a matter of fact, the girl would not be able to hear anything over the rolling thunder. She'd forgotten that she was not alone, out there. Outside of the walls, a lot more than just her own thoughts were capable of ripping into her.

Just as the girl removed her hands from the wall, trying to gain control over her tears, something grabbed her shoulder. Something with long, rotten nails and a weak, lifeless grip.

She gasped, yanking her body away from the walker and backing into the wall of the barn. Her feet slid in the slippery mud that was accumulating around its perimeter.

The dead being was towering over the girl, as she scrambled to push it away from her. The two continued their struggle, stressing every healing muscle and bone in Alice's body. She tried to scream, but nothing came out of her strained vocal cords.

Alice's gun was digging farther and farther into her back, as the walker pressed her into the wall. She could not reach her only weapon, as she needed both of her feeble arms to keep the walker from tearing into the flesh of her neck. Her slippery hands pushed past the rubbery skin of its torso that slid right off, revealing the creature's brittle ribs.

By nothing but the quick wit granted by her pure adrenaline, the girl wrapped her cast-less fingers around one of its ribs, breaking it off and pulling it out through the thin, stretchy wall of decayed muscle and skin.

Letting out a screaming grunt, Alice swung the walker's own broken rib up and under its jaw, effectively stopping it from clawing at her. She removed it, only a bit, before jabbing it right back into the same spot of the skull—as to make sure the being was dead—just before letting it drop to the ground.

Covered in rainwater, blood, and her own tears, the girl panted. Her hands traveled down her thighs, landing on her knees, as she tried to catch her breath. Her muscles ached and her lack of nutrition caught up to her, giving her a light-head.

Once her vision finally cleared, Alice could see that the forest was now encased in a gloomy darkness that she had failed to notice. The sun had set and it probably hadn't even been the full five minutes that Maggie had given her to return.

A twig snapped, echoing from behind the girl.

Alice briefly gasped, wasting no time in grabbing her gun. She swung around and pinned the creature against the wall of the barn, using her casted forearm to hold its neck in place and her other hand to put the tip of her gun right underneath its jaw. She used her injury as an advantage, as the walker would never be able to bite through the thick casing around her wrist.

Before her muscles could fully clench to tighten her finger around the trigger, she caught sight of the being in front of her.

It was Carl.

The boy was wide-eyed, his hair tussling about as his hat fell into the mud. He couldn't breathe through the windpipe that Alice was restricting. The raindrops were cascading down his face and dampening his newly-exposed head of hair.

Her eyes narrowed and she kept both her chokehold and her gun in place, staring the boy in the eyes. Her chest slightly moved up and down and her eyebrows furrowed, in confusion.

She was angry.

She didn't know whether it was because he had snuck up on her, or because she was embarrassed that she attacked him. The depths of the girl's mind wandered—only for a moment—into a scenario where she didn't get a look at him before pulling the trigger.

Her emotional wreckage put Carl in danger, and to have him in danger was the last thing that Alice wanted. But then again, her emotional wreckage was something he'd signed off on, by keeping such a secret from her.

Alice's eyes carefully studied his parted lips as he briefly gasped for air—the same lips that'd been kissed by her. She watched rain drops caress his cheeks, trailing down to the tip of her gun. The gun she wouldn't even have, if not for Carl.

Here she was, using a weapon against the boy who had returned it to her. Here she was, her clothing being soaked more and more the longer the boy stood at her mercy—the clothing that he had given to her.

Alice didn't want Carl in danger, even after everything that happened, and now it was irrefutable to her that he felt the same way.

The two stared at each other, for a few moments. They remained equally shaken up as the blood from the walker Alice killed was slowly being diluted by the downpour coming from above. Carl struggled for breath, not having it inside of him to put his hands on the girl to remove her.

She abruptly lowered her gun and removed her casted arm from his neck. The girl, although no longer holding him against his will, still stood right in front of him.

"W—What are you doing out here?" Her hoarse voice shouted over the rain.

Carl's eyes fluttered to a close. His knees slightly bent, angling themselves in a way that allowed him to lean back against the wall of the barn. Alice, being in such close proximity to the boy, could see as his eyelashes collected a few rain drops.

After taking a few moments to catch his breath, he reluctantly met her gaze. "I woke up and y—you were gone."

"I don't need you to look out for me," The girl's face tightened. She began to shake her head. "Not anymore."

"I—" Carl started, before looking towards the ground.

The boy struggled to orient his words and Alice took this as an opportunity to intervene. "You what?"

Carl silently lifted his eyes to meet hers, as they were only a few inches away from his face. This time, his lips parted with no intention of any sound coming from them. To Alice's surprise, the boy seemed to match the glare she held on him, as he stared at her, in silence.

This made the girl burn from within, awakening every bit of repressed anger she held towards him.

"Huh?" She aggressively tilted her head farther into his view, raising her voice over the rolling thunder.

"You what?" She angrily repeated.

The boy did nothing but hold his awe-stricken glare on the drenched girl. Tiny wrinkles formed between his furrowed eyebrows as his parted lips continued to collect raindrops.

"You think that I can't protect myself?" She shouted. "Do you think you owe me something, Carl?" She lowered her tone, making sure that his name rolled off of her tongue with every bit of spite she could muster.

It was clear that Carl was growing increasingly agitated with everything she said, but Alice didn't care. While the boy was getting angry, she was already angry. She had been long overdue for these words, although she knew she would regret them.

"The last time I left you alone out here, I thought I was never going to see you again." Carl simply said, letting his glare burn into her eyes from a mere few inches away.

Alice Dunlap quickly shut her mouth. Her dripping face softened and she quickly caught sight of the damage done to the boy standing right in front of her. Carl Grimes was not angry, he was shocked. His waterlines were filled to the brim, but not by the downpour casted above them.

He wasn't angry that she'd nearly killed him. He wasn't angry that she was yelling at him. He was taken aback that she couldn't see what she meant to him.

"You can hate me—" The boy sucked in a breath. "All you want." He shook his head. The beaded raindrops that lingered on the ends of his tussled hair rolled off, some even landing on Alice. "But I will never let something like that happen again."

"Carl—" She started.

"I don't know if things will ever be the same, between us." He shook his head once more—his lower lip quivering. "I might not even have the right to say this, but I just need to know that you're safe."

Alice continued to stare at the vulnerable boy. She'd never seen Carl so bothered by something. He'd always hidden his despair, for her sake. But it'd become impossible for the boy to conceal his darkness in front of the girl who became its source.

She wanted to tell him that things could be the same—that she didn't hate him. But, as her mouth opened to reassure the boy, nothing came out.

Her own, guilty thoughts stopped her from coddling him. She still felt obligated to bear hard feelings towards the boy, when she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms. She felt guilty for even craving affection from someone who'd done such a thing.

But, no matter what Carl Grimes did to her, she wanted to tend to his every want and need, despite the internal struggle.

The boy lowered his gaze to the ground, as he sucked in another deep breath. "I don't blame you for hating me. I want you to hate me. But you can't blame me for wanting you to be alive in order to do s—"

"I don't hate you, Carl." Alice's voice became tender, cracking with an adoration for the boy that she could only wish to resist. More tears cascaded down her cheeks, merging with the raindrops that concealed them. "I hate myself."

The boy lifted his gaze to meet hers. She smiled through her tears. "I hate myself for not being able to hate you. I hate myself for constantly thinking about you—wondering if you're okay. I hate myself for physically hurting every time I think about something happening to you."

Alice's fingers found themselves gripping the collar of Carl's shirt, locking him in place. She was only just beginning, and the anger was creeping its way back in.

"I hate that you did what you did." The girl leaned closer to him, wearing a stern look on her face. "But you know what I hate more?"

Carl's lips parted, as he remained completely entranced by the emotional girl. He began to lean in, as did she. The two teens both knew that the kiss was never to come, but even the proximity had them aching.

"I hate that we can never do it again." Alice huffed, repeatedly switching her gaze from his eyes to his lips, using them to allude to her words. "I hate that you ruined something that felt so good. I hate that it was ruined before it even started."

She slightly backed away, looking the guilty boy in the eyes. Unexpectedly, the girl pulled Carl forward, just to gently slam his shoulders right back into the wall of the barn. "I hate that we never even had a chance—that you let me think it was real."

Alice knew that she was simultaneously dancing around it while addressing it, head on. Both Alice and Carl felt what it was, but neither of them really knew.

The boy took a few seconds to form words, from underneath the wrath of her stare. "It was real. It is real."

The two frustrated teens stood in the rain, listening to the repetitive patters of beaded water ripple off of the top of the barn. What would've been silence, between the two, was filled with rolling thunder and distant flashes of lightning.

"I know it was real, Carl. Trust me, I—I believe you when you say it." Her anger began to turn into sadness. She stared deeply into his eyes, switching her gaze back and forth between the two of them. "I know that I can trust you. I know that you would never hurt me. I know that."

The boy seemed to recoil in on himself, in his moment of hesitance. His lips opened and then closed. And then they parted once again. "Who are you saying that to? Me or yourself?"

"Maybe both." Alice admitted, pulling her lips into a weakened smile.

"You can trust me." Carl shook his head. He leaned forward, getting closer to her face, speaking to her in a more intimate manner. "I would never do anything to hurt you. I would never let anything bad happen to you."

"I know, Carl." She continued to stare up and into the boy's eyes, offering him a pitiful glance. "I know."

"But you only know," Carl started, squinting his eyes as he arrived at the point. "You don't feel it, do you? You don't feel like you mean all of those things to me, even though you know you do."

Alice Dunlap knew that Carl Grimes was as pure as they came. He was protective over her, and probably would've been until the day that it killed him. He was protective over everyone that he ever loved. He was honest, kind and persistent. Maybe, at first, he was a little rough around the edges, but who wouldn't be after having to kill their own mother? Who could come back from something like that, still bringing so much heart into the world around them?

"And you won't feel like those things are true for a very long time." The boy tried to sound optimistic, as he continued to speak over the loud rain. "Because things won't be the same. They might never be the same."

Alice matched his gloomy demeanor, allowing him to feel what he needed to about the situation that he finally had a clear grasp of. "But you know what will always be the same?"

He said nothing, instead only softening his gaze in response.

"I'll always feel the same about you." She started. "I'll still care, no matter how much I wish I didn't."

Carl—seeming somewhat warmed by the silver-lining of a dooming conversation—got a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Do you really mean it?"

"I don't just mean it," Alice started.

She trailed her hands down from the collar of his shirt, letting them snake around his waist as she hugged him. He quickly wrapped his arms around her shoulders, lowering his face into her hair.

Giving into the temptation that'd now eased its way back into her arms was equally as delightful, to the girl, as it was gut-wrenching. The two stood in the pouring rain, shielding one another from the downpour of water as well as their own emotions. They'd hurt each other knowing that they were the only ones who could make it better—if there was even a chance at that anymore.

The girl sucked in a breath, keeping her hushed voice to herself. "I hate myself for it."

☆

Carl and Alice had, once again, left their encounter not quite knowing how the conversation went, despite how much was now left out in the open. But the two teens, themselves, were no longer out in the open after a night spent in the humid barn.

The previous night became a pivotal moment for the morale of the group, after they all had to join forces to keep what was outside from getting in. A sudden fight for life—for each other—was what the group needed to keep trying. Individually, nobody really cared for themselves anymore. It was all about having something to die for, and even worse, something to live for.

Yesterday, Alice Dunlap would've liked to believe that she would've jumped at the opportunity to feel the relief of death. But after fighting for her life against the walker that'd attacked her outside the barn, and using all of her feeble might to keep the barn doors closed during the storm, her will to live seemed like much more than a learned instinct.

The shitty part, to Alice, was that she wanted to live. It wasn't a childish fear of death, or simply that the group heavily relied on her. She fought for her life, needing for it to be endangered to learn just how much it meant to her.

Although the girl felt like she was the only person who thought of the storm in this way, she could feel that the group's energy had shifted. Everyone was refreshed in a different way, Alice's being a bit more morbid than the rest. The flame that'd kept them going for so long was just reignited, burning just a bit brighter than before.

The sun rose that morning, just like it always had. And with another awakening of uncertainty, the new light presented a series of decisions in the form of a well-kept man that was brought into the barn by Maggie.

The group, still exhausted by their broken slumber, clambered to their feet, raising every weapon in the man's direction.

Carl, although sitting in the opposite corner of the barn from Alice, soon found his way in front of her, shielding her from the man. The girl lowered her gun to her side, now that Carl had once again taken her safety into his own hands. She stared at the back of the boy's head, her eyes trailing down to his tensed shoulders as she noticed the way his shirt hugged his tightened muscles.

The boy's body slowly moved along with each focused breath he took, as he intently held the aim of his gun on the stranger. Even as Rick handed Judith to Carl, making the boy holster his gun, he never removed his stare from the man.

Alice was so focused on the boy standing in front of her that she almost couldn't even hear what the man was saying. That was until she heard him propose something that made her question her own hearing abilities. She began to look at the man over Carl's shoulders, finally taking in what he was saying.

The man, with his hands still raised in surrender, offered a community. He wanted the group to join him behind those walls.

Although a lot of useless, nervous words came alone with the man's proposal, the girl furrowed her eyebrows at the bigger picture of what he was saying. Everyone in that barn did.

And the man kept rambling until he was silenced by the fist of an untamed Rick Grimes, who had not known such simplicity to be true. His words were too good to be true. Anything less than hell on earth was too good to be presented to the group who was still wearing damp clothes and smelling like manure.

Alice didn't realize it, but as the entire barn of frazzled people prepared for the impact in front of them, she'd gently grabbed onto Carl's arm. Her unintentional grip on his sleeve didn't go unnoticed, as she quickly removed it when the boy began to turn his head from the scene his father had just caused.

"You okay?" He raised his eyebrows toward her, tightening his grip on Judith.

The girl took a few seconds to lessen the distance between her gaping lips and tear her eyes away from the man on the floor as Rick began rummaging through his pack. She finally met Carl's gaze. "I've never heard a blow land like that before."

"Do you think he deserved it?" The boy tilted his head.

Alice didn't answer because she didn't have one. She tightened her lips, shrugging her shoulders. "Do you?"

The boy stood silently for a few moments, taking a second to ponder the entire—potentially life-changing—situation that'd just played out in front of them. Carl shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess we'll find out."

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5648 words
November 11th, 2023
10:43 PM

A/N

hi all!

usually when I finish a chapter, I like to stew on it for a few days. but I just finished this chapter (HOT OFF THE PRESS) and I had to get it out bc I've been dying for you guys to read it.

finally time for Alexandria WOOOH!!

also happy (almost) one year anniversary to this book!! November 30th, 2022 was when I first published it and I can't believe it's already been a year.

THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL OF THE SUPPORT AND APPRECIATION YOU HAVE FOR MY BOOKS!! I genuinely have the most loyal people ever surrounding me all the time and it's what's keeping me around for so long!!

I love you guys

okay I am going to SLEEP BYE

☆vote if u don't want me to end up on the national news☆