A/N: Take place in the two month span that wasn't shown between S6E09 and S6E10

Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead


The right side of his brain felt like it was on fire. He tried to reach up and touch it, do something to extinguish the pain. Nothing worked, his limbs weren't moving and the pain still flared in fact it seemed to have grown. Carl let out a low moan as he tried to roll onto his face as if to squish the pain away. Immediately he felt something grab onto him and keep him lying flat on his back.

Words were spoken. At least he thought they were words. Now that Carl thought about it more, he wasn't really sure if they were words, or noises or really anything at all. Maybe it was his imagination, maybe he was dreaming. Or maybe he was going crazy like his father had.

"S…y do…t….w…y."

There it was again!

Damn they're loud, Carl thought dully. The words continued, one on top of the other as if struggling to grab the boy's attention. Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!

Carl let out a low hiss as he felt something slid out of his wrist. It left behind a slight pain behind, but it vanished after words, too bad he couldn't say the same about his migraine. He felt something flutter and he realized it was his left eyelid. It twitched and he woke.

The room was dimly lit to save the boy pain from retina damage. Carl looked around to see the lamp over in the corner and the door closed over. He tried to side glance to the right but saw nothing, his perception didn't allow him to see that far. He had to physically turn his head to look over to see his father staring at him, worry was clearly evident and it seemed that Rick was struggling to say some words but was unable to.

What's wrong? It…hurts dad, the right side it's on the right and it hurts so much. God, what's wrong with me? Why can't I see with my right eye?

Carl slowly got up and Rick helped him gently.

"Just relax," Rick said slowly speaking to his son.

Carl reached up and touched where his right eye should've being but instead the smooth feel of gauze rubbed against his fingers. His heart dropped to his stomach. Carl turned away slightly so his father couldn't see his depressed expression. Then he felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder.

"It's okay, please don't hide it."

Carl didn't say anything. He just rubbed the gauze absent-mindedly trying desperately to remember what happened. But there was nothing, just blank where the memory should've being. Carl continued ignoring his father until the migraine felt like it was going to rip his brain in two. He continued to frustratingly find the memory of how he lost it.

Carl felt something slid down his face and he realized he was crying. He felt his father pull him into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapped protectively around his son.

"There's going to be an adjustment," Rick whispered, trying to be careful with his words. "But we'll get through this."

'We?' Since when in hell is there a god-damn 'we'?! It's not you who lost the eye!

Carl bit his lip from shouting at his father. Instead he just settled for his fingernails digging into his palm until he was sure that there was blood.

The father and son stayed like that for a few brief moments until shouts could be heard. They were loud and clashing like a raging ocean. Rising and falling one after the other until no one was making a coherent sentence, just making noise so that they can have the attention.

Rick sighed and gently helped his son back to bed. He pulled the covers up as if to tuck Carl in like a five-year old.

"I'll be back," Rick promised.

He adjusted his holster belt and walked out, quietly closing the door behind him. After a few moments Rick's booming authoritative voice shut everyone up. Then there was nothing, quiet, silence, oblivion.

Carl thought about his father adjusting his holster belt. Wondering what it'd be like to shoot a gun now, his perception would be off a bit no doubt. He touched the gauze again, Carl felt like ripping it off he didn't want it on. It oddly felt itchy to him and Carl reached back to touch the gauze taped at the back of his head.

"Mmm, wouldn't do that if I were you kid."

Carl bolted up in surprise. He looked to see a teenage girl standing at the door. Carl wondered how he never heard the door open and how the girl could be so damn quiet.

"That gauze is the only thing keeping infection and shit out of your eye," the girl explained coming up to the boy's bed.

"What-," Carl cleared his throat, having not used it in over a week. "How did you get in?"

The girl raised her brow as if studying the boy for stupidity.

"The door," she said blankly. "I came in through the door."

Carl couldn't help but roll his eye, he felt a phantom feeling of his right eye rolling as well.

"I mean what are you doing here?"

"Oh that! Yes, your father sent me."

"Why?" the boy asked suspiciously, he'd never seen this girl before in his life.

The girl's skin had a tanned complexion. She wore jeans, a maroon top, and an open button-down grey jacket with a chain around her neck that was tucked underneath her top. The imprint through her top looked like dog-tags, ones that were given out to the military. The girl had wraps on her hands, and her chromic combat boots lightly thudded against the floor when she walked. She had three silver earrings on the top of her left ear lobe and her black hair was done up in a ponytail with it parted in the middle, a bit hung on each side. The most notable were her eyes though, she had heterochromia; the right was bright blue and the left was a bright green.

Carl wasn't even sure if that combination existed. He tried not to look but something about the girl was so attracting and it wasn't just her eyes.

"Why?" the girl repeated, "because he thought you could use company in these trying times. He's going to be a very busy man in a bit."

Carl tried to respond to the young girl's off-putting response.

"W-What's your name?"

The girl stepped back with a smile and gave the youth a slight mock of a bow, "Remi."