Sage ? Carl Grimes

8 ? hands

"We don't have ammunition, food, people, protection, shelter..."

I walked a step forward and watched Carl run his hands through his sticky hair. He fingered the strands and began pulling at the roots, and he closed his eyes shut. I knew Carl wasn't going to cry; especially in front of me. But he almost didn't want to open his eyes, because maybe he was afraid he would.

"I know you don't have a lot left in your life, but sometimes I think you forget that I'm still here," I said softly.

Carl opened his eyes and let go of his hair, watching me approach him. I weakly kicked away the books at my feet and created a trail to him. Carl tried to catch his breath; and his chest rose increasingly from his early anger.

I stopped walking about two or three feet before him, and he watched how my hands trembled as I reached out for his own.

"I'm...alone, too, Carl," I reminded him. I slowly wrapped my fingers around one of his arms, and he sucked in a breath, watching my movements. "I'm tired and hungry and sick and lonely, but I still have a beating heart. No matter how faint you think it is, you can still hear it."

Carl was frozen and mesmerized as I lifted his arm with my hands. I guided him to my chest, where I pressed his palm gently against where my heart sunk down. He bit his lip and seemed rather uncomfortable to be touching me this way, but I had him do it.

"You feel that?" I asked under my breath, and Carl gave me a short nod. "That's my heart. It's beating, it's there, it's...keeping me going. Now, I bet you can touch a zombie the same way and feel nothing but their past on the skin of your palm. Carl, we're...okay. Even if we're low or weak or unguarded, we're still...-"

"Alive," Carl finished for me, sighing deeply afterwards. I nodded, and he only just then slowly released his hand from my chest. I captured his hand in mine and ran my thumb over it.

"But...you think this is living?" Carl spoke up, his words slow.

I looked up to the blue in his eyes, and could see the reluctancy. He blinked away the shimmer of gloss I saw in them, and he bit his lip.

"I don't know," I admitted, and I warmed my palms with his. They created a heated friction as I ran my fingers down his arm delicately, and he watched my every movement.

"I mean...we don't have family. We don't have friends. We don't have a home. We don't have food. We don't have happiness. We don't have...love," Carl said slowly. He took a step closer toward me, and our belts clinked slowly. I breathed. "I wouldn't call this living, but...surviving. Purposelessly."

"We do...have love," I corrected him, but realized what came through my mouth. Carl's eyebrows raised and he looked at me differently, and I hurried to correct myself. "I mean...we can have love. We...can. Yeah...I mean-"

Carl laughed a short, breathless laugh. His smirk spread wide and he shook his head solemnly, looking down at our desperate hands.

"Love's pretty dangerous, don't you think?" Carl asked, and his voice deepened. His hands trailed up my arms slowly, and I watched him.

"How so?" I asked cautiously.

"I mean...it's risky. To love someone, when you're so foul," Carl said, and he took his bottom lip between his teeth. His thumbs created patterns on my scarred arms, and I sighed at the warm feeling. "What if you love them too hard, and they die? It's too much, and I couldn't imagine losing you like that."

"Then don't lose me, and I'm all yours," I mumbled, and he smirked.

"I don't want to hurt you, nor get myself hurt," Carl started, and he pressed our stomachs together. I admired the way he was much taller than I was, and his wicked smirk looked down at me. "So...don't call this love. It's not love, okay? If we fall in love and make it, too, we'll get hurt. So why don't we call this...fun."