This is the sequel to Stale M&M's. I suggest reading that first if you haven't already, but it's not terribly confusing to go ahead and start here, you'll eventually get filled in.

The drawing above was by train-wreck101 on Tumblr.

Following the show, season 5 part 2.

Chapter warnings will be disclosed.

Every man has a right to live
Love is all that we have to give
Together we struggle by our will to survive
And together we fight just to stay alive...

They call out to tell me that I'm alone. I jolt awake. The air inside the van smells musky and stale and I take it in to get rid of the smell of Mika's blood — ghosts don't just trick your eyes, they trick your nose, too.

Do nightmares kill you?

I listen to my heart beat because it's easy to, count Michonne's breaths by the glinting of her necklace, the silver M, catching the moonlight as she inhales and exhales. I reach into my pocket for Lizzie's small pink watch and I hold it there. It's been months since what went down at the grove but I still dream of being back there, with the girls. I'm always running, always chased by the dead. I'll find the house but nobody lets me in. And the walkers get me.

It's better now...

"Nightmare?"

Abandoning the watch in my pocket again, I look up. Carl yawns, raising his cast arm to stretch. I tell him, "I'm fine," and I give him my hand to prove it, and eventually he falls back to sleep again.

We've almost made it to Noah's home, Shirewilt Estates, in Richmond, currently a state away passing through South Carolina, but by now our journey to Virginia has us running low on supplies and food, so the next morning, when everyone is up, we loot a small mall in town.

Once we make sure the place is clear, we split up into groups. Michonne, Maggie, and Glenn take the grocery store. Sasha, Tyreese, and Gabriel take the clothes store. Daryl, Carol, and Noah take the armoury store. Eugene, Rosita, and Abraham go to a home depot. Then finally, me, Carl, Rick, Tara, and Judith loot the bath and body store.

"Toss in a few soap bars," Tara tells me.

"We'll need a whole fire-truck full."

"Ah..." She sighs. "I miss that thing."

I drop three colourful bars into the shopping cart Judith is sitting in. As Rick pushes it he has to stop her from grabbing things and trying to eat them:—"We'll get you some food soon, baby." As we wander past walls of strange smelling lotions and bath bombs, Rick checks in back for anything and Tara decides to go outside the store to look over the railing at the empty mall, and since Carl and I are alone for the first time since the hospital, I decide to cross the room and ask him, "Kiss me?"

"What?"

"Before they get back. Velocemente!"

"Wait, I know that one. It's..."

"Quickly!" I say.

"Velocemente — quickly. Right, right."

I'm hopping on the spot and he laughs at me and then he kisses me and then Rick's footsteps are coming back from the staff rooms, Judith giggling from the cart. Carl and I turn to separate shelves because even though his father may know about us now it doesn't make the thought of being spotted any less uncomfortable, especially since he hasn't yet spoken to Carl about it all. Sometimes I only think he acknowledged it to me because he feels guilty over what he did to me, and him accepting us, what his son and I are to each other, was his way to atone for it.

"Find anything?" Rick asks.

"Nope." "Niente."

"Think we're done here," he says. "I'm going next door to help the others, see if I can find any more medicine."

As we head for the exits Carl turns to me.

He asks, "We'll be passing through Lorton one of these days."

And I don't say anything.

"Look," Carl says, "if you're worried about what my dad's going to say—"

"I'm not," I say.

"Good," he says, "because I'm not handing over the pecans this time."

I roll my eyes because I guess I'm never living that down.

Carl smiles at me across the aisle.

"Ask, man," he says, "or you never will."

We leave the store.

"For the record," Carl says, "I think he'll let you do it. It's on route. What difference is two walkers? I mean, I know they're your parents. I just meant—"

"It's okay," I say. "I get it."

Some of the others are gathered by the escalators. We meet them. Tyreese hands me a book he found: August by Bernard Beckett.

"Saw that you were getting close to the end of Tom Sawyer, so I figured this'd hold you out for a little while after."

"Thanks, Ty."

Once everyone's here we head back for the van.

"Still feel weird walking out without paying," Tara admits.

"As a former cop, I'll let you off," Rick jokes. He holds the van door open. We get in the back, stuffed together like sardines. Because I get car-sick I sit closest to the backdoor — I already begin feeling queasy, even before the engine starts. If it weren't for it, too, I would have already finished Tom Sawyer.

Before dark, we stop the van for the night by a lake off road. Rick and Michonne set up their snares. Daryl goes off for a perimeter check and to hunt, and Carol joins him, and the rest of us set up camp by the shore or wash in the water. Privacy is a privilege, especially lately, which means that our time on the road has desensitised us to each other's naked bodies. The lake water is freezing and I get told off for swearing about it, but it's good to get clean again. I try to do something about my hair, which is so long and bushy that it hurts my fingers trying to brush it. I know that it's a dumb thing to be vain about, considering, but being a fifteen-year-old, it's hard for people to take me seriously anyway, and it doesn't help when on top of that I look like a pubescent Neanderthal.

After, I return to shore and jump on the spot as I dry.

"I don't know how you have the energy," Sasha says.

"I don't," I say, hugging the towel around me, "but I'm cooold!"

Carl tousles his hair dry, shivering all over. Unlike me his hair combs out like silk, even if his is longer than mine. It's always so smooth. He turns to me, lips blue, teeth chattering.

"I don't think I'll ever see my balls again after this."

I laugh my ass off.

Later, we eat around the fire — to avoid prying eyes we've built a wall of rocks around it. Carol gives a can of cherries to go with the grilled racoon she and Daryl caught. I open the can and glare at it unhappily.

"Swap?" Rosita offers. "I've got soup."

"Totally." Quickly, I sniff the cherries before handing it over. Rosita frowns so I tell her, "I like the smell."

"And not the taste?"

I shake my head and take her soup. "Thanks."

"No... problem."

I have this pun book that I picked up a while back and Tara's reading it, grinning and laughing to herself. She pushes the book into Eugene's lap and says, "Oh, man, you gotta read this one out..."

By now we're all used to this, but Eugene still looks confused when he glances up from his mixed vegetables, mouth full.

Tara points at the page. "This one, please?"

Everyone's watching, smirks or confused expressions plastered over their faces, apart from Tara. Tara's already all busted up laughing.

Eugene huffs as he reads. "I'm not sure I'm willing to consent to this kind of personal ridicule."

"Oh! It's not 'personal ridicule'," she argues. "It's funny."

He narrows his eyes. Tara's still laughing, making "Kr, kr, kr," noises that makes some of us laugh too.

"Come on, Euge?" Glenn says.

"Yeah, c'mon, Eugene?" Sasha adds.

Eugene sighs at us all, puffing out his cheeks. He's always a good sport, even if it might just be because he's working so hard to get back on our good side again. He clears his throat.

"Hmm. That's a good question, let me mullet over."

Late at night I'm found reading under a blanket with a flashlight by Carl, who pranks me by pulling the blanket up and hissing. I almost stab him in the eye.

"Dude," I growl, kicking at him — I miss on purpose. Disrupted, some people sleeping nearby shuffle and turn over, and Noah and Gabriel, on watch, look over at us. I apologise to them. Shore pebbles grind under my elbows as I sit up. "What, man?"

"Your torchlight is coming through the blanket," Carl says.

I switch it off. "Did it wake you?"

Carl shrugs. He looks tired. I lie down to show him I'm going to sleep now, so he copies me. I look at him. His eyes are shut, face pale under the moonlight.

"Night, man."

Struggling man has got to move
Struggling man, no time to lose
I'm a struggling man, and I've gotta move on
I'm a struggling man, and I've gotta move on...

Notes

Song was Struggling Man by Jimmy Cliff.

I hope that was a nice welcome back. Here's to the sequel of Stale M&M's!

Happy reading.