Aside from the obvious security risks, there was another major downside to Carl's bike group, winter. They stretched their rides into what was probably early November but then were shut down for months as it was too bitterly cold to bike 2 hours. Having a few horses were nice, but like gas powered cars, were reserved for community business, not just visiting friends because you felt like it.

Carl hated the loss of phones and even mail now that the people he cared about were no longer together. He did ask folks traveling to Hilltop to carry letters and trade comics, but winter was quiet. He was lucky to catch someone more than once a month. Thankfully, Daryl was guaranteed to travel up once a month to consult with Jesus about any shortages and needed runs. And he could trust Daryl.

The prisoner had mocked him for his "fucking weak Big Wheels." Said that when his people came home with "that shit" that he threw them out, the bikes and the people. He also said that "these toys made Carl a pussy" for "letting his dad lead month-long fuckery but leave him watching Judith." Carl's protests about not actually being responsible for Judith anymore didn't matter to the prisoner or himself. The point was taken that Carl's desires in the new world were second place to the desires of his dad.

All Rick had to do was read a passage out of a book and it turned into a huge deal. Enid had written that Rick had even made Maggie upset over it to get his way. But Carl comes up with an idea that does not hurt anyone or anything, makes certain routes a little safer in fact? Well, he's a kid.

As winter wore on, Carl didn't talk about the bikes anymore. Instead, he was Tobin's hardest worker on the construction team. Carl had practically built the house on construction site 3 on his own. He hadn't totally given up on bike travel in his mind, remembering the rush of his road bike. But, he knew no one outside of himself was really supportive of the idea.

While admittedly not in favor, Michonne had noticed Carl's silence on the matter. The endeavor to travel seemed important to Carl, so she wanted to support it even if she didn't like it. Yet, he seemed surprisingly underwhelmed when the Annapolis crew brought back all they could from a bike shop.

Michonne tried to talk to Carl about it, but he just said, the winter weather had made him realize it wasn't a viable transportation method. While rational, the statement seemed too rational. Where was the eager negotiator that had an answer for every contingency? Carl didn't sound practical now, he sounded almost defeated.

She was surprised when she found herself cheering him up about it, "well, just because they have seasonal use doesn't mean the idea has no merit, Carl. It was great, is great, that you are looking for all possible ways for our communities to stay connected."

"But, the guys who ride with me, they've lost interest. They cannot take off 4 months learning from Hilltop. Ken let Josh stay at Hilltop last month since there was little choice. And Scott says he's stopping with the blacksmith permanently."

Michonne nodded and rubbed her son's arm supportively. "There will be others who will want to try again, you'll see."

"People say it's stupid."

"Who," Michonne questioned quickly with a little too much protective anger in her voice.

"No one important, just that I'm wasting my time with them."

"Well if it's no one important, then their opinion doesn't matter. Let them try to build what you built. Right?"

Carl smiled at Michonne knowingly. Nevertheless, Carl still kept to himself about the bikes. No need to drum up interest when no one could practice, he told himself.

—

When Michonne's tower shift ended she chatted briefly with Francine who came to relieve her. Like her earlier conversation, Francine also seemed to be dour.

"It's just all starting to hit me," Francine confessed, "The false peace we had before, it felt real. Then all the shit happens at once, Pete, Reg, Wolves, walkers, Saviors. And now? It's quiet again, almost peaceful, except so many are dead. It scares me, like I can't trust it."

Michonne frowned, realizing that by making her community fighters and survivors that also meant they'd have the same horrible memories and creeping fears. She put her hand on Francine's shoulder. I'm going to ask you what Deanna asked me, "what do you want for the rest of your life? What do you want for you?"

Francine looked up at her dazed and blinking, "we get to think that way again?"

"Yes," Michonne answered sympathetically, "yes, we do. Look at all the good you've done Francine to build up Alexandria again and again. You're brave for everyone else. You know what life is now, the good and the bad. Hold the good. Be brave for you."

She gave a final squeeze to Francine's shoulder as she left the tower. She knew she'd given Francine a major thinking assignment for the shift. It surprised Michonne that Maggie popped into mind as she headed home. She had sounded like Maggie up there. Her friend would have been proud.

Michonne walked into her house to the smell of herbed fish. The new staple to their diet still tasted like a delicacy. She was overcome with a craving for lemon and surprisingly depressed when she realized she'd never taste any again. Now it was her turn to be dour as she walked into kitchen following her nose.

To her shock and amazement, it was Daryl cooking the fish. In a pan. With spices. Michonne just stood there awestruck. Daryl saw her out of the corner of his eye. "What," he protested, "you think my dumb ass don't know how to cook?"

"Oh, no I've seen you cook. With fire and sticks and cans," Michonne teased.

"Yeah, and? You sayin you didn't like my cookin out there," Daryl inquired.

"I ate it didn't I? You didn't hear me complain," she smiled.

"I didn't cook when we got here because I don't know nothin about casseroles and Carol…" He didn't finish that thought. "But fish? Shit, I know how to cook fish. I've had to feed myself on what I could catch since I was… 7." He trailed off but allowed himself to finish that thought.

Michonne heard Rick come in. "Damn, Michonne, dinner smells amaz…" Rick turned the corner to see what Michonne was looking at. Rick to was struck dumb, mouth agap.

"Nah, man. Not you too," Daryl scoffed.

"Brother, I have never, ever…"

"Chonne," Daryl interjected, "You enjoying those new love handles on your boy?" Daryl nodded toward Rick.

"Hey, now…"

Michonne laughed. "Why yes Daryl, I am," she played along.

"Then don't forget who's cookin out on the island put them there," Daryl smirked.

"Haha, fuck you," Rick pouted. Michonne stepped over and rubbed Rick's back with feigned sympathy.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, causing Rick to startle. Daryl licked his fingers and then whipped them clean on his pants walking toward the front door. Yep, it's still Daryl, Rick chuckled to himself. Michonne looked over Rick's shoulder to see who was there.

Jesus and Enid walked in. "Come on in man, you're just in time," Daryl welcomed them. "Hey ya'll, hope you don't mind I invited company tonight," Daryl grinned. Then, he yelled up the stairs, "Carl, dinner, man. Come get it."

"To what do we owe this pleasure," Michonne beamed at Jesus walking toward him for a hug.

"Daryl and I are going on a run tomorrow. He said we could come on in tonight and head out early," said Jesus.

"And you, young lady," Rick inquired thinly attempting to hide his smirk.

Enid stuttered. Before she could come up with an excuse everyone heard the loud, fast clumsy footstep of Carl coming down the stairs. He looked up expecting to see an empty living room only to find Enid standing in front of him. The shock nearly made him fall down.

"Shit," he tumbled. "Uh, uh, hey. Hey, Enid." Carl tried to recover. Carl scanned the room trying to get his bearings but all the faces were on him. He turned red with embarrassment.

Blessedly, the crashing sound of silverware landing on the counter followed by plates made everyone turn to the redneck in the kitchen. "Come on, now. Before it gets cold," Daryl did his best grandma impression. But of course it would be serve yourself. He wasn't about to break out any damned dinner platters, guests or none.

Enid and Carl sat beside each other at dinner, so they wouldn't have to directly look at each other as they traded waves of blushed mortification, embarrassment, and excitement. The adults did the best they could to draw the two into the conversation. But after short replies, the two returned to blushing silence. After Carl finished his dinner, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and placed it in his lap. He took the opportunity under the table to rest his hand on Enid's hand.

God, those two are like a Victorian romance novel, Michonne thought to herself. But then she thought about her and Rick's "courtship" out there on the road before Alexandria and she realized where Carl had picked up his moves, or lack thereof. She sighed sympathetic to the young would-be-couple's plight. Let'em take their time, she conceded. She knew the payoff would be all the more sweet that way.

"So Carl, Enid, I assume you two are going to have a slumber party out here in the living room," Rick asked rhetorically. Since the Saviors, accommodations in Alexandria weren't as plentiful and Rick sure as shit wasn't going to allow Enid and Carl to share his twin bed, no matter how petrified his son looked around this girl. "Y'all can hang out after you clean up the kitchen."

Since their usual couch routine was upended by teenagers, Michonne and Rick headed to their bedroom early. They lay resting in each other's arms updating one another on the day's events. Michonne mentioned Francine's mood and how it might be time to check-in with all the surviving Alexandrians to see how they were coping in this new world. Rick mentioned Eugene's concern that they were running out of lead again.

Then they broke into a comfortable silence. Rick massaged Michonne's scalp as her head rested on his chest. Michonne traced circles on Rick's toned abs. Then, feeling mischievous she danced her finger along his waistband and pinched the non-existent fat on his sides.

"Hey," Rick yelped. He began to tickle her relentlessly. She squirmed reflexively at his teases. She buried herself into his side, he covered her with his arm. He was her tickle attacker and her shield.

"Rick," she muttered breathless between laughter. He accepted her surrender and pulled her up to face him. She stared smiling, still panting, into his twinkling blue eyes. She leaned in and nibbled on his bottom lip. Tonight was going to be an extended game of cat and mouse he realized. Challenge accepted, he thought, as he captured her full lips in his.

Carl handed Enid the last dripping wet dish. She dried it slowly and placed it the cabinet. They had spent the last 20 minutes in near silence speaking only to show Enid where this plate or that knife went. Now, she placed the towel on the countertop and turned to face Carl. It felt like a lifetime had passed since she was last in this kitchen. And one thing was certain lots of lives had passed.

"How's little Hershel," Carl asked.

"Cute. Sleeps a lot."

"Lucky. Judith never slept a lot, ever actually."

"Oh, shoot," Carl exclaimed suddenly he bolted toward the coat closet to grab his jacket. "I gotta go. I gotta a chore."

"What? We've just done a bunch of chores. Can't it wait till tomorrow?"

"No, it can't. You can come with me if you'd like."

Enid shrugged. It appeared she had little choice.

Carl walked over to Olivia's house. Enid felt a weird deja vu' as they waited outside her old front door after knocking.

"You're late," Olivia glared at Carl, "Oh, Enid."

Carl took the bag of jarred pickled cabbage, applesauce, and beans from Olivia's hand. "You can wait here if you'd like," he told Enid.

"Where are you going," Enid asked a bit perturbed. Olivia raised a questioning eyebrow at Carl.

"Come on, let's go," He told her.

Carl stopped outside the entrance to the jail. He nodded at Rosita. Rosita, shook her head at the time and the guest as she unlocked the door. Enid grabbed Carl's arm pulling him back as he approached the door. "What are you doing!" She whispered accusingly.

"It's feeding time," he replied exasperated.

"And you do it?"

"Just dinner," Carl replied hurriedly, "and I almost forgot tonight. You can come in with me if you'd like. He'd like to meet you."

Enid's eyes grew wide with horror. She shot silent dagger glares at Carl.

"Fine," he huffed, "I'll be out soon."

Carl stepped inside. He rushed as he dumped out the jarred food onto the plastic tray and shoved it into the prisoner's cell.

"About goddamn time," the entitled asshole said, "where the fuck have you been?"

"Fuck you," Carl answered. In one swoop, he tossed all the now empty jars back into the bag and stormed toward the door.

"No, wai..," the asshole replied. But Carl shut the door behind him before he would listen to anymore groveling.

Rosita locked the door behind Carl and he walked across the street to Enid who was hugging herself.

Carl walked past her toward Olivia's. She turned to follow him shivering with the desire to flee. Carl placed the bag on Olivia's doorstep not bothering to knock and kept moving. Finally two houses down, Enid couldn't help herself, she blurted out, "Why, Carl?"

"Cuz he's gotta eat."

"No, why you," she hissed.

"Cuz," He paused, realizing that answer wasn't going to cut it, he kept walking.

Enid just shook her head over and over. "All he took from us. From Maggie. He almost killed your dad!"

Carl didn't reply, he knew there wasn't anything to say. When they got inside they headed to the couch. Carl handed a throw to Enid so that she could warm up. They both sat down and stared at the coffee table.

"My dad saved him," Carl finally said quietly. "No one else wants him alive. No one else was volunteering. I had to."

"But, I also wanted to," he added. "Mikey, Josh, they all went back to forgetting almost immediately. My dad can't forget and I don't want to either." Carl paused again.

"Why does your dad let you?"

"He doesn't know, I think. I started while he was on bed rest. And it was all routine by the time he came back to the helm. I don't think he wants to know, really, or otherwise he or Michonne would have said something to me about it by now."

"Carl, you said he wanted to meet me. You're talking to him?" Carl tried to will himself invisible.

"That's why I wanted to come to yo.. to Hilltop. I knew you wouldn't like who I am here, now." Enid grabbed for his hand as a counter argument as Carl continued, "But, it's too cold and too dangerous and everyone was gone for a while and…" Carl didn't finish. He knew she didn't want to hear the prisoner's opinions.

Finally, Enid looked at him straight on. "I miss you too, Carl."

"You have new friends up at Hilltop. I saw you."

Enid shook her head, "They don't know me. They see me with Maggie. They don't see that I was alone till I met you." Carl looked away.

"Yeah, Olivia proved that one tonight."

Enid chuckled, "I know, right. She didn't even say hi. She didn't say anything."

They grinned at each other.

Carl's grin faded. "I feel stuck," he confessed finally. Enid didn't have a solution, or an answer, or a white horse to whisk him away on. So, she rested her head on his shoulder and held his hand, till she fell asleep.

Enid awoke lying down on the couch covered in a blanket. Carl must have tucked her in after she fell asleep last night. She looked around for him. She didn't see him till she almost stepped on him lying just at the foot of the couch on the floor covered poorly by the throw blanket.

She wasn't surprised by his mood last night. It was why she insisted she come down with Jesus. She could tell in his last letter that something was wrong. She hadn't realized that he had made a new friend of the worst kind. She stepped over him lightly to head to the bathroom.

When she got back, Carl, Michonne, and Judith were up and at the dining room table. Michonne was replacing Carl's eye bandage. Enid came close to watch. "You don't have to," Carl said.

"No, I want to," Enid protested. Michonne watched the two of them knowingly. She removed Carl's bandages and applied ointment slowly, in deliberate motions. She was silently teaching Enid what to do but trying not to draw too much attention to that fact and embarrass the two. Then, Michonne got up to wash her hands again. Carl sat there feeling naked in front of Enid. He watched Judith eat her breakfast.

When Michonne sat down again she continued methodically replacing the bandages, even boldly looking behind her to make sure Enid was watching. She was. "You are free to go," she told Carl finally, giving him a mortifying hug.

Carl grabbed an apple from the table and tossed it to Enid. "Let's go. I have something to show you." So far, Carl is 0 for 2 in the surprises department, she thought to herself.

Carl, reading her face, finally offered, "no, it's not like that." And he walked her over to construction site 3 to show her the house he had built.