Dear Hongo En
and AGGXX5
and RHatch89
and FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff
and DampishPoet

aha heh...

Left my home still as a child
I walked a thousand sorry miles
To wait for my father, to gather up his tools

He said, "My boy, you've gotta run,
Don't wait for me, don't wait for mom,
We'll come get you, when it's safe for us to move."

So I waited many years
Held back the pain behind my tears
For my father, to come find me like he said

And in that time I was alone
So many years without my home
I made brothers of a different kind instead...

~ Carl ~

"Could you hand me the flowers, Enid?"

"Sure."

"Thanks... There... promise kept. Think he'll like them?"

"Yeah. I think he will..."

"Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Nowhere."

~ Oliver ~

When I was really little Patrick told me that when we died we'd either go to Heaven or we'd be sent to Hell — this all before he became a practicing Atheist. He said we'd walk up a big flight of golden stairs to some tall pearly gates and God and one of his angels would ask us questions and then they'd make their decision.

"Mamma said so," he told me.

"I don't want to go to Hell," I told him, and I cried.

"You won't," Patrick said. "Hell is for bad people. Mamma says we're good. So we'll get to go to Heaven."

I've never known how much I did or didn't truly believe, not as much as I thought I did, at least. I think I wanted not to believe because if it was real then I was afraid of it. I don't know if I'm a good person. I don't know if God and his angel would let me into Heaven. But I liked to imagine that when I died I'd wind up somewhere I knew, at least, somewhere I felt safe, with the people I loved around to make me feel better. I figure the universe could spare me that much. I figure that would be enough.

Another part of me thinks that it's all stupid, too, though. Another part of me thinks truly that when I died there wouldn't be anything at all. I'd just... not be, anymore. And I figure that's what is happening to me now except I'm thinking about it and something about that and being dead doesn't make much sense to me, so I decide to try and open my eyes.

I'm at the clinic.

Morgan is here. Rosita, too, is sleeping in the hospital bed opposite me with a bandage on her shoulder. I see my prosthetic over on my bedside, the sliced strap stitched back together. A sling is supporting my amp arm, a bandage around the gunshot, and my leg is raised by a bigger sling above the bed wrapped in bandage and cast. Things are written on it but I can't read anything without my glasses.

My head feels light and heavy and achy and someone shushes me and slips something on over my face. My glasses, I realise, when the room becomes clear. Carol is leaning over me. She places her palm against my forehead and coaxes me to lie back again. I look and look at her and then of all the things I want to say I chose to start with—

"Where's Sasha?"

"In the ground," Morgan answers. "Held a mass funeral two days ago after the fight ended."

I wipe my face.

Morgan rests his elbows on the bed next to me with his hands clasped above my chest. Nobody is saying anything so I say, "Where is everybody else?"

Morgan smiles. "Around."

It's easy to take his word for it. I look at what he's wearing.

"Benjamin gave you his armour?" I ask.

Morgan's face does this weird falling thing then. My smile falls as I watch him put his head in his hands.

"Oh," I say. "Okay..."

I look at my hand and then I across to my cast-up leg.

'JSS, love Enid'

'Get well soon little dude.
Jerry xx'

'I Wish You A Swift Return To Full Health, Young Warrior.
K. E (& S xx) My Apologies. Jerry Wrote That.'

'Tara loves you like yoyos and strawberry sundaes'

'FROM A FRIEND, aka. your friends Aaron and Eric'

'Get well soon, Maggie'

'Michonne xox
AND RICK'

'love, C. J. Grimes and Jude'

'Praying for your recovery! Gabe'

'chin up. D. Dix.'

'All my love, Carol'

And some other names like 'Tobe' and 'Barbara' and 'B. Miller'. I feel my face flush. It's strange, the things that run through your head when you realise that someone you care about is dead. You'd think the first thing you feel is sad and I guess it's true but it's other things, too, like confusion and anger and disbelief — I don't know why. I'm trying to think of all the reasons Ben wouldn't die and there are none that make it untrue and I am disgusted.

"How?" I gulp.

"The Saviors, day after you left," Morgan explains, and goes on to talk about some trade sabotage involving a cantaloupe that Richard died for, too, and that Benjamin's death is what finally changed Ezekiel's mind about helping us fight, and then for a while Morgan just sits in silence. I think about how Benjamin meant a lot to him and how he meant a lot to me, too, and for similar reasons. Benjamin was like family. I don't think Morgan and I are very good at being reminded of our family. I feel all out of shape, like Morayo said, and then I start to cry — to really really cry. I think the noise is something outside the room but then I realise it has to be coming from me because I can hardly breathe. I hold my face and wail and Morgan just touches my wrist and says, "I know, shh. I know, I know," until I can stop.

Carol is still sitting beside me on the chair. I could ask her why she came back, why she isn't running anymore, but I don't say anything. She doesn't either. Instead as I lay down and try to sleep she just combs her fingers through my hair like she used to and I let her.

The sun is starting to fall asleep all pink and purple and blue across Alexandria's sky. Carl and Enid help me walk to the graveyard. My body is weak and my arm and leg ache badly. They put flowers on Mikey's grave for me, and Carl found me a new beanie hat. It's grey and almost identical to my old one — said he took it off some dead Savior. Enid has her knife back, too — said she took it off the same dead Savior. After a while the three of us go home. We sit out on 99's back porch watching the wall. Next door in 101 every bedroom is full again, for now, since Maggie is still here. Enid's staying here with Carol, Daryl, and me for now, too, but I know once she goes back to Hilltop with Maggie and once Carol goes back to the Kingdom Daryl and I will move into 101. I'll stay in Carl's room and Daryl will take Tara's old room since she wants to move into Denise's old place.

But now, at 99, I sit in the rocking chair while Carl and Enid sit over on the steps. Enid plays with a deflated green balloon between her fingers. Carl bumps her shoulder. They already told me about the meeting in Alexandria that had taken place the evening of the fight, after the funeral. Ezekiel, Rick, and Maggie had all spoken, representing the Kingdom, Alexandria, and Hilltop.

"Things are going to change," Enid says, her voice soft like the breeze. "Nobody really knows what's going to happen anymore. Then again nobody really knew before."

"We're gonna keep fighting them," Carl mumbles. "We know that much."

Enid sighs. "Yeah..."

He get up. Carl asks if I need help but I shake my head and hobble over to sit beside them carefully. Together we look out along the stretching steel wall.

"We'll fight," I admit, "but do you know what else?"

They both look at me.

I smile at them. "We're going to win."

And just like that Enid puts her head on Carl's shoulder and Carl takes my hand, and after everything, lost boy or not, I know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I am exactly where I belong.

Notes

Song was The Lost Boy by Sons of Anarchy.

Thank you infinitely for sticking through this bullshit.

Book 4 up now, available in my profile. Don't read for the romance...

As always,
Happy reading.