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M E G A N

After a few days, a few members of the group—including Michonne—managed to retrieve Glenn and Maggie from Woodbury. Glenn returned nearly beaten to death and Maggie hasn't said a word since they got back.

Daryl's long-lost brother, Merle, and the group's old friend, Andrea, are now trying to warn us of an attack from their own people. Apparently it's coming any day now.

Rick has had us on high alert for the past few days ever since hearing about the governor's plan to attack.

Beth and I sit inside the cabin of the south guard tower, watching the trees for motion as if our lives depended on it.

The girl actually wanted to join me in my ongoing avoidance of cell block corridor. She even agreed that she felt a bit stuffy as well.

"Hey Megan," Beth hesitantly starts, causing me to look over at her. "You really think the governer's going to try and take this place?" Beth pipes up.

"I have no idea." I start. "This whole thing is kind of new to me." I dangle my feet back and forth over the edge.

"Yeah, I've rarely seen people outside of our group before." Beth says with a sigh. "Except for you—and a guy called Randall." She says, motioning to me with her hand.

"So I'm still outside of the group." I say quietly as to not push my luck.

"No—no," She starts. "It's just—you're new."

"I'm new." I state, a little more pleased with this response.

After a moment of comfortable silence between us, one of the trees rustles and we both snap our heads in the direction, but it's just the wind.

"Have you seen Carl around?" Beth asks.

"No."

"He's always off somewhere—or hiding in his cell." She sighs. "Avoiding people at all costs. The kid's going to become a recluse."

"I don't even know what that is." I say, causing Beth to let out a loose laugh at the statement.

"Oh I forgot, you haven't been in school since you were—how old?" She asks.

Throughout the entirety of my watch-shift, the girl's been subtly trying to learn more about me. In particular, she's been trying to learn more about the prison, and why I was here, before. I have to hand it to Beth. Her slick choice of words almost makes me forget all about her curious antics.

I shrug, ignoring the meaning behind her question. "Well, I think I was around thirteen when this all started."

"You should be close to Carl's age, then." She starts. "His parents said he was twelve, when we first met. We had to save their group from some—uh, trouble, out there."

Throughout the past few weeks, I've been trying to gather information about life outside the fences. Maybe Beth will be the first person to give me a real answer. "What's it like—out there?"

"Quiet and loud all at the same time." She turns her head and her blonde pony tails falls over her shoulder as she looks at me. "No people, no wild animals—everything's hiding from the dead."

"How long were you guys out there? Before you came here?" I ask.

For a second, I feel guilty for prying about a life that the girl probably wants to forget all about.

"When it started, we were all on my daddy's farm," Her eyes look to the floor. "Then, Rick, Shane, and Carl showed up on our front porch because one of our men accidentally shot him." My eyebrows furrow, causing the girl to pause.

"Who was shot?" I cut her off. "Rick?"

"No," Beth shakes her head with remorse lingering on her face. "Carl was the one who was shot."

Something in my guts tells me that I already knew about how the two halves of the group met each other. But somehow I'd completely missed that Carl had gotten shot.

"Yeah," Beth says, interrupting me mid-realization. "It was a really close call."

"After the farm, we lost people." She quietly says. "A lot of people—my family." She sighs. "And that was eight months ago. Now we're here."

"How did you guys lose the farm?" I ask, my eyebrows furrowing. "Did people like the governor take it?"

"It was walkers." Beth states, a bit of shock in her expression as I don't come to such an obvious conclusion on my own. "They travel in big groups together. A huge horde of them plowed through our farm, took everything down with it." She states nonchalantly, presumably because she's had eight whole months to absorb that reality.

"I can't imagine what it's like, out there." My voice comes out louder than I mean it to. "I've never been."

"You don't have to treat that like it's a bad thing." Beth says. "Because it isn't."

"Yes it is."

Our heads whip around to see no one other than Carl climbing up from the open latch on the floor. It was Beth's bright idea to leave it open.

"It makes you weak." He says, pulling himself up from the latch of the guard tower.

"How long have you been listening to us?" Beth asks him.

Her nervousness quickly spreads over myself as well, when I realize that we were just talking about how he'd been shot.

"Not long," He scoffs. "I just got here. Dad told me to keep watch because he thought no one was up here." He sassily says, only looking at Beth. The kid has not once looked at me or acknowledged my presence besides calling me weak.

"He was wrong." I state, matching the boy's attitude.

Without giving my statement any reaction, the boy looks between the both of us. With a sigh, he then scans the tree-line with his eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be watching the baby?" He looks to Beth.

"No," She rolls her eyes at him. "Daryl's got her, for now."

The boy shifts his weight from one leg to the other, with his hands next to his sides.

"Well," He starts. The stubborn boy tries to hide his sense of defeat. "I'm going to go." He sits next to the last and swings his legs in.

"Keep watch, and don't screw anything up." He drops down onto the staircase of the guard tower and slowly shuts the latch from the bottom.

Once the latch slams shut and the boys thudding footsteps retreat down the stairs, Beth looks over toward me.

"That was awkward."

☆

"Everyone keeps a gun on them at all times." Rick explains as we all sit around him in the prison corridor. "Lock your cells at night, keep a close watch of the trees when you're out in the field." He trails off.

Everyone in the group stands, spread out across the corridor in cell block C.

"My meeting with the governor didn't go so well." Rick places his hands loosely on his hips. "And from what Merle," He takes a pause as he looks at Daryl. "Told us, it sounds like he's coming." He looks around and makes slight eye contact with nearly everyone in the room. "And soon."

Beth and I look discreetly to each other.

Living in constant fear of an attack from the governor, has made this whole thing somewhat unbelievable. We've gotten uncomfortably used to the idea.

"Everyone get some sleep. I'll take watch tonight." He says, nodding. "And please if you can, two to a cell. Watch each other's backs. If things go south, you want someone to know where you are." The conclusive tone in his voice is then followed by a heavy silence.

And just like that we're dismissed.

Beth stands up from the table and starts heading toward her own cell.

"Beth," I catch her attention. She turns around to face me. "You want to room together for a few days?"

"Sorry, I can't." She sighs. "Carol and I kind of already stay in the same cell, plus we have the baby." She trails off, stalling on what I can tell she wants to say.

"But," She starts, looking anywhere but my eyes. "I know someone who has a cell all to himself."

"No—" I start but Beth cuts me off.

"Megan—he's the only other person besides Daryl who stays alone." She points across the corridor, her finger aimed towards Daryl's cell. "And you don't want to stay in a cell with an old man, do you?"

"Well," I start, rolling my eyes. "I have more of a chance of being killed by Carl than I do by the governor."

"Okay fine," She says, giving up. "Stay with whoever you want, but don't come crying to me when you're sleeping in a cell that smells like Daryl." And with that, she flips her blonde pony tail over her shoulder and walks away.

I turn around to look at Daryl, who sits in the corridor, sharpening his arrows.

I quickly look the other way to see Maggie helping a beaten and bruised Glenn back to their cell. The man took such a beating that he can't even move around by himself. Hershel had to lend him one of his crutches for a few days.

My rapid thoughts are cut off when I hear a sharp, anger-stricken voice echo from behind me. Carl's voice, laced with the usual attitude. "I know, dad."

"I gave you this for a reason," Rick says to the boy, kneeling down and placing his hand on the back of Carl's neck. "Protect people with it, have it at the ready, you're more than capable." The man says, holding Carl's gun in his grasp.

Carl rolls his eyes and avoids eye contact with his father.

"Remember, I'm leaving you responsible to keep the both of you safe," Rick starts after Carl fails to respond. "Lock your cell, make sure you guys get some rest. You're both going to be on watch tomorrow."

Something clicks in my head when I realize I'm taking watch tomorrow and that Carl does not yet have the cellmate that Rick is talking about.

Before either of them have the chance to acknowledge me, I slowly walk toward my own cell and enter it, sliding behind the small sliver of a wall next to the door. I wait for a few moments, until I think I hear the both of them walk away.

Maybe Carl is just as underwhelmed as I am and won't make me stay in a cell with him.

I take out my gun and knife and put them on the small metal table in my cell. I open the chamber of the pistol and count how many bullets, making sure all six are still there. Not that they'd be anywhere else.

I hear three small knocks on the wall to my cell.

Hesitantly turning around, I see Rick leaning against the wall of my cell on one arm while the other rests on his hip.

The man uses the back of his right thumb to wipe at something on his eyebrow. I've recognized this as the man's usual nervous habit. Especially ever since this whole ordeal with the governor. The nervous man rubs at something that isn't there.

"Hey," He starts.

"What's up?" I ask, before he can continue, trying to make him oblivious to the fact that I already have an idea of what he's going to ask of me.

"I'm going to have you room with Carl tonight," He hesitantly says, his thick southern accent lingering in the silence after his statement. "Just for a few nights."

"I'm fine in here," I mutter and a smirk grows on his face. "Our cells are right next to each other and we're this close if someone is in trouble." I motion with my hand.

"That's not going to work if both of your cells are locked." Rick says with a clever grin.

"You know," He hesitates.

"Megan," I start. "My name is Megan."

"You know, Megan," The man starts, getting full use out of my name. "It would just make me feel better if my son wasn't alone tonight—if someone were there with him in case anything happened." He says, clearly playing the guilt card.

Deep down, I know that Rick knows that his own son can protect himself.

"Fine." I state bluntly. "Keys?" I open my palm to him.

"Carl already has the keys." Rick takes his arm off the doorway to my cell, leaning away from it. "Grab your things."

I pick up my gun and knife from the table in my cell, and swiftly grab my pillow, swinging it under my arm.

The man takes a step back. He uses his hand to motion, guiding me out of the doorway. I give the man a subtle look before walking through the doorway of my cell and then swiftly planting my feet in the entrance of Carl's.

I look into the cell and see the boy sitting on the
bottom bunk, fidgeting with the rim of his hat.

"You two get some rest," Rick says quietly. "You're both on watch duty first thing in the morning."

"Which tower am I in?" Carl asks.

"You're both in the west tower. Buddy system, remember?" The man asks, causing Carl to roll his eyes. "Carl, you have the keys. This thing gets locked and stays locked." Rick taps the metal door and nods to the boy, before walking off.

Still standing in the doorway, dumbfounded that I have to bunk with and take watch with the painfully quiet kid all day tomorrow, I turn my gaze from the hall and look at him.

"Do you need to get anything before we're locked in?" The boy asks me impatiently. He seems to only want to give me one choice as an answer to that question. "Neither of us can leave after my dad locks the door."

"No, I'm fine." I state.

Carl then walks over to the metal door, sliding it shut. Rick hears the door slam shut and stops his conversation with Carol to come over and lock it.

After Rick walks away, I turn to the kid. "What did you mean we can't leave?" I ask him. "Don't you have a key?"

"My dad gave me the wrong set of keys and he thinks I don't know," The boy starts. "He doesn't know I have a set of master keys I found in the warden's office, though."

"You made it to the warden's office on your own?" I ask the boy. That office is well into the tombs and behind any area that has been even remotely cleared by the group.

A guilty feelings instills in my stomach when I remember that the warden's office is just passed the boiler room. The place the boy's gotten locked in when the walkers got in.

The boy just looks at me with a blank expression across his face. Carl remains standing across the cell from me. His eyes slightly squint at my reaction.

"Got them off of some guy who was already dead." He said with a scowl across his face that accompanies his stiff body language.

"Why would Rick purposefully lock us in here all night?" I ask him in a confused manner, purposefully changing the subject away from the warden's office.

"He doesn't trust that I'll stay out of trouble," The boy points to himself. "And he doesn't trust you at all."

"Well, I'm not planning on doing anything to betray his trust so I think we should stay in here until morning." I aggressively say, knowing the kid probably has some tricks up his sleeve. "Sound good?"

"Peachy." The boys mutters, sitting on the bottom bunk. He lands with an exaggerated bounce. "My dad's already on my ass after what happened the other day."

"What happened?"

"I saved four people that got in through the tombs. They were being chased by a herd of walkers." He sighs. "I heard their screams and I had to save them. Dad kicked them out this morning. Who knows where they are."

"He's mad because you saved those people?" I asked.

"More-or-less, yeah." The boy remarks, the sarcasm lingering in his voice. "He thinks we're supposed to be useless because we're just kids."

"Don't bring me into this." I state, wanting no part in the dilemma going on between the boy and his father.

"You're already in it." He said, sharply. "He told you that he'd be comfortable if you were in here with me. In case the governor attacked, right?"

"Yeah, but I d—"

"He told me that he was locking you in here so that I can protect the both of us." The boy cuts me off without a care. "He just wants to know that we're both out of the way in case anything happens."

"Well," I start. "You have the keys and we can get out of here and handle it in case things do go wrong."

"I suppose." He bluntly states.

"So," I say, placing my pillow on the top bunk. "Let's get some sleep, we have a long day of watch tomorrow." The pillow lands with a slight creak of the metal bed frame.

"You sleep," His hushed voice echos against the wall of the cell. "I'm staying up in case anything happens."

"Whatever."

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2903 words

A/N

I made a tiktok edit account approx. 20 hours ago and people already tried to cancel me!!

like I can take the hate on my wattpad account bc people are just mad that I have my "own" character

but like a whole groupchat of people coming at me sideways all within the same five minutes was really just scary :D

☆ anyways don't forget to leave a vote PLEASE☆