aka… you, meeting a strange, familiar group of people
warnings ~ none, fluff ig? teenage awkwardness, probs some minor inconsistencies, I havent watched this scene in a fat minute
── .✦ a/n ~ i cant believe its taken me THIS LONG to write for mockingbird!reader...
Birds sing their songs all around you, chirping light melodies that remind you of home.
Life in Alexandria is easy, to say the least. You’re fed every day, given activities to keep you occupied, and there are other kids your age here; there are walls surrounding you on all sides, keeping the bad stuff out — but also you in — what more could you want in an apocalypse?
Selfishly, you desire so much more than what you’ve been given.
As you wander about the streets, your mind drifts from thought to thought, until it inevitably lingers on one thing: outside.
You come upon the main gate, eyes now locked on it.
How you wish to be out there again.
You begin walking away, determined not to dwell on that for another moment. Any time you think of life before all this — free, wild, and uniquely your own — you get this feeling in your stomach. It's almost bittersweet, but not quite. More like a longing, despite the fact the object of your yearning isn’t too far from your reach.
That train of thought is interrupted by a loud bang.
You whip your head around, only to see a group of roughly ten people making their way into the area through the main gate. There’s even a baby, being held by a man with a gnarly beard.
You dash away, hiding behind a fence, peaking out just barely to watch.
It isn’t long before Deanna comes along, greeting the newcomers.
That’s when you recognize them.
They’re the prison group.
Just a handful of months ago — what was it, seven? — the Governor had tried to destroy them, leaving you to fend for yourself in the wild. It wasn’t necessarily the worst, being free from his captivity. You hate how you long for a lack of protection.
Most faces are familiar to you. You can’t actually name most of their real names, save for Michonne and Rick, but you can remember your nicknames for those whose names you didn’t know: Crossbow, Nana, Lovebird, Ginger, Cowboy, and Strawberry Shortcake. Not the most creative, if you saw who they belonged to.
There are seven faces you don’t know, and two missing since the last time you saw their group: Grandpa and Sweetheart. You can only assume what happened.
And now they’re all going to live by you. You’ll know their real names.
It makes you wonder what their life has been like in the past few months, since The Governor tried to kill them all and Woodbury fell. You spent your time on road, running from The Undead and starving most days, up until you found Alexandria. Were they safe, you ask yourself. Where were they living? Were they on the run, too?
These thoughts stick with you until you get into bed that night. You stare at the ceiling, pondering all sorts of things. Especially about the youngest boy of the new group; Cowboy, you’d creatively nicknamed him months ago. You don’t know his actual name, or anything about him, but he intrigued you.
Your sleep, as per usual, isn’t very well.
When you can’t hear the crickets chirping, and the gentle kiss of the breeze against trees, you’re stuck wide awake.
Morning comes, and you’re quick to dress for a day outside the walls.
The sun has barely risen by the time you’ve slung yourself over the wall. You know Enid — the only other teenage girl you’ve seen since the apocalypse began — comes out here sometimes.
What you don’t expect, however, is for another visitor to trail behind her.
You’d been walking as you normally do, taking in the fresh air and comforting sounds, when you hear a twig snap behind you.
You whip your head around, and catch the gaze of Cowboy. You still don’t know his real name.
“What are you doing out here?” You blurt. It sounds hypocritical, you know it the moment the words leave your lips. He scowls at you.
“What are you doing out here?” He has you with that.
Now it’s your turn to scowl.
“What’s so wrong with walking?” You ask.
“It’s dangerous! Do you not know that? There are Walkers out here. starving and ready to eat your face off.” His tone is an odd mix of calm and angry, which shouldn’t even be possible. You wonder if he’s always like this, if he’s been like this, even before everything.
“I know damn well how dangerous it is, but I also know how to defend myself.” Your voice is hardly raised; not mad, but confused. He rolls his eyes. “Plus, you’re out here!” You continue.
“Yeah, keeping idiots like you from dying.” The boy scoffs, gesturing to you. Clearly, he doesn’t see you as being equipped to take care of yourself.
“Who even are you, anyways?” You add.
Once again, he rolls his eyes and scoffs. He’s got a lot of attitude.
“So you’re that Rick Grimes’ kid.”
“How do you know my dad?”
You fall silent. You only know his father from what went down with The Governor, but you don’t know if it would be a good idea to tell him. After all the man did try to kill all of them.
“I asked you a question.” Jesus, this kid has got to get his attitude in check.
“You knew The Governor, right?” You watch the dots begin to connect behind his eyes, how you know that bad man, and the whole ordeal with Woodbury.
“You were with him? You were on his side when he did all that?!”
“I never said I was on his side, just that I knew him!” You retort.
“He completely upended us! He killed Hershel, pulled a whole damn tank on us, he—” Carl stops, fuming, panting slightly. “He nearly got us all killed. Because of him, we lost Hershel, we lost Beth, we lost…” He trails off.
“I— I didn’t know he did all that. Just that he locked me inside all day and wanted you guys dead. When Woodbury fell, I was alone again.”
You stare at each other, him reading you and you reading him. He sees confusion and pain. You see anger.
It isn’t unexpected, him being angry. You’ve just admitted to technically being complicit in his home being destroyed. You’d be angry, too. He’s now somewhere unfamiliar, with people he can’t trust.
“How’d you meet The Governor?” Carl suddenly blurts. “Why were you ‘stuck inside’ like you said?”
You glance away. The breeze brushes your face, a tender caress that contrasts what you’re now thinking about: The Governor, once more.
You look back on your life with him. The way he found you, alone, and promised to keep you safe. He said he’s give you warmth, hospitality, and everything you could ever want. Surprisingly, he gave only the opposite.
“I first met him three months in. I’d been alone by then, for a while. He found me on the side of the road. He told me I didn’t deserve to be left like this, that what I did deserve was a home. So, he took me back to Woodbury.”
You take a breath, now noticing how you and Carl fell into step together, waltzing along a dense pathway.
“Back then, it was smaller. The walls were still up, but they weren’t as fortified. We also didn’t have as many people. It was awful nice, honestly. Looking back, I can see how naive I was. I kinda miss it.
“Anyways, it wasn’t long before he grew to be a tyrant. The power really got to him. He told me I was safer inside, that even stepping one foot out of his house would be too dangerous. Suddenly, I could hardly remember what the sun looked like, the songs the birds sang every morning. I forgot the smell of fresh air — and I was convinced I couldn’t physically do that.”
You laugh at that. You’d spent so much time outside, in your own little world, you’d had the scent engraved into your nose. You didn’t know a person could forget something they’d spent their whole life knowing.
“When he tried taking over your prison, and Woodbury fell, I was left on my own again. I didn’t hate it. After only a couple months on the road, I found Alexandria.”
Your footsteps come to a stop then. You finally glance up, meeting Carl’s gaze, and for a split second, you see interest in his eyes. Maybe even admiration. But it’s only a split second before it’s gone, quickly smoothed over by feigned coolness.
“I didn’t know that’s what happened.” He confesses.
“I wouldn’t expect you to.”
Carl stops, readjusting his cowboy hat on his head. “We better get back. It isn’t safe out here.”
“You go ahead. I’ll catch up.”
He stares at you, frustration pooling in his eyes and furrowing his brow. But, for once, instead of arguing, he simply scoffs and turns away.
You listen intently to the sound of his boots crunching against the forest floor, as it slowly fades away the further he walks. Your mind quickly goes back to the beginning of your interaction, how unusually mad he’d been that you were out here. He didn’t have a reason to care, so why did he?
You didn’t dwell on it too long, for a growl that could only come from a familiar, Undead being reaches your ears.
You can’t whip your head around fast enough, and are met with two lifeless eyes.
Somehow, this is the end, you think—
— until a knife sinks into its skull with a sick sound.
When it collapses, there Carl is, huffing, anger evident on his face.
“You’re coming back with me,” He spits, and you don’t argue.
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