Work Text:
Every situation had become one of calculation. As they approach it they go through a series of determinations; what is happening around them, can they avoid it, and if not can they survive it? How best to survive; run or fight, or do both perhaps? So many variables must be accounted for in that assessment. How much light do they have, what obstacles are in their path, how many walkers are present and moving, and have noticed them? All of these things are quickly asked and answered, and each of the survivors has to measure themselves and their abilities or experience against their own answers.
There are right and wrong answers, but they differ from survivor to survivor. Carl knows that Michonne could stand against more walkers than he could just because of her experience with her weapon and her reach. He knows he is a better shot than Beth though, and that he could take out more from a secure distance. He also knows that in some situations he has to let go of any pride and that hiding or running is the only survivable option.
His math has changed since they’ve been on the road. When they were at the quarry, and on the Greene’s farm, his mother had tried to keep some normalcy by having him practice math, English and other basic school lessons. Accepting what had happened was more difficult for her than it had been for Carl; he knew that there were too many things out of his control because of his age, and accepting that there was nothing he could do to save or change the world was just one more thing to which he had to adapt.
The lessons had stopped after a while. There wasn’t enough time, and there wasn’t enough guidance. It was better than he learn to shoot and defend himself, read the signs around himself in nature and in other people, and take some responsibility for himself and helping the group. He had to leave childhood sooner than his mother wanted. It was sooner than he wanted some days too. There were moments when he still was able to be a kid, with Michonne or Beth, but even those moments required careful thought.
It was like one of the wordy math problems his mom would read. Some guy was traveling by train and he needed to figure out when he would pass by a certain town, or there was a group of friends sharing fruit and how many apples did they have. All of those problems seemed ridiculous at the time, but as they approached the small group of walkers ahead on the road he started an internal dialogue. Michonne was already unsheathing her katana, and his father’s grip on his machete had changed. How many walkers would they each take out, how long would this minor stop take before they could continue moving, would any of the walkers get close enough that Carl would have to deal with them or would the two adults prevent that from happening?
The walkers were always the variable that couldn’t be predicted precisely. They tended to do similar things when presented with similar incentives, living people or noise to attract their attention, and had similar problems with mobility and speed, but environment and skill of the living changed every confrontation. Carl waited as his father took out one and Michonne swung her sword and took out three at once. He stepped forward when a smaller female fell to the side and rolled down the slight incline, stabbing it in the head so that it wouldn’t get back up and come at them from behind.
Everything worked out just like an equation. Plug in the variables and work it out, until solved or the danger was past. He smiled to himself, and Michonne caught his eye. She looked curious but let it slide when he shook his head. He could explain, and she would probably understand, but he liked having this small thing to himself for the moment. Maybe he would explain it later, when his education was brought up by his father once again or they were training him on the road.