Yes, I wrote this immediately after tonight's (2/10/14) episode. It's pretty poorly written compared to some of my other writing, but I really like the idea.

AU version of season 4's After so, spoilers of course.

Exhausted both physically and emotionally, Carl slumped against the worn couch. His mind was racing, finally processing the hell he had gone through. He thought that he had come to terms with all that as he and Rick were walking away from the aftermath of the Governor's attack, but now he could barely move as waves of emotion crashed over him, exponentially more powerful than before.

Daryl, Glen, Maggie, Michonne, Carol, Hershel, Tyreese, Sasha, Lizzie, Mika, Beth, and countless others… Many of them he saw die in person, and the others left, and Carl knew he would likely never see them again. All of his friends, and the closest he would ever get to family in this apocalypse, and they were all dead or gone, and now his father was nearly dead.

Of course, there was also Judith, Lil' Ass Kicker, the sister he would never have the opportunity to love or protect. Judy, whose life had cost the life of Lori, who wouldn't have known a world other than the hell she was born into, whom he had sworn to protect with his life, who no longer had a chance at life. At first he couldn't even believe it, the empty, bloody seat sitting alone on the concrete, surrounded by gunfire and walkers. When it finally clicked, he snapped. In a rage he emptied his gun into the nearby walkers, blindly fighting everything in his path. It was Rick who had to calm him down, who had to encourage him to keep going and to escape.

Rick… Carl instinctively blamed it all on his father, who was only trying his best. Although he didn't always make the best decisions, he tried his hardest to protect everyone, and tried to raise Carl the right way, a way that he should have known could never exist in this world. When Carl came home to find Rick in that state, rasping and crawling his way towards his son, Carl had never regretted anything more in his life. He hated how he treated his father, the things he had said and thought, It was in that moment that he realized he couldn't handle being along, he couldn't handle losing his dad.

As he sat against that couch and thought, he could have sworn he heard what sounded like knocking at the door. Trying not to get his hopes up, he look to Rick, knowing that the chances of there being another human around here were scarce, and the chances of it being someone from the prison were almost non-existent. So he braced himself for the worst, but what happened was a thousand times more terrible.

Rick looked through the peep hole and, surprised, fell back, laughing in joy. He tumbled onto a cushion propped against the wall, giggling all the while.

"It's for you!"

Carl jumped over the couch and ran to the door, but as he unwrapped the cord from the handle he couldn't help but think that for a moment there, his dad's laugh seemed odd and shallow. He began to open the door, but stepped back to glance worriedly at Rick, who now had a dribble of blood running down his chin and a mad look in his eye. Carl stumbled back in horror, watching as his dad began to choke on his own blood, and the thud from Carl hitting the ground couldn't be heard over the sudden stomping of Michonne's boots walking haphazardly through the door, her lifeless body wobbling as she tripped over the dying madman.

Carl pushed back, his sock not allowing much traction on the wooden floors and his once-idol began leaning down and reaching for his exposed ankle, her uncaring gaze full of hunger.