"I'm kind of afraid she won't recognize me." Carl surprised himself by voicing the fear out loud, he didn't look to see Rick's reaction. The two of them had been passing the time until Michonne returned with Judith in solemn silence. Carl suspected Rick didn't want to make anything worse by saying the wrong thing, but Carl wished he would just say something.

"It hasn't been that long, Carl." Rick mumbled unconvincingly.

Carl shot him a look that would have been a lot more impressive if he still had two eyebrows. "It's not about the time."

Rick shifted in the wooden chair he'd pulled up next to the bed. "Listen, the first night spent in the infirmary she wouldn't stop crying. No matter what I did, no matter what Michonne did. You know how she gets, just screaming, but the whole night. She missed you."

A wave of guilt settled over Carl. "Yeah. Guess I didn't think about that. I didn't have to deal with the aftermath or anything. Maybe I did get the better end of the deal, being in a coma and all." He grinned, but wasn't entirely joking.

Rick clearly didn't think it was funny, but humored him and laughed anyway. "Honestly though, it will be nice to have another pair of hands. Oh," he looked up. "Speak of the devil herself."

Judith giggled excitedly, playing with a fistful of Michhone's hair. When she saw Carl she reached out for him.

Michonne held her out to Carl. "You got her?" she asked, waiting for him to nod before depositing the toddler in his lap.

"My god, just look at you." Carl whispered. "You've gotten so big." Judith giggled, trying to reach her hands up to his face, but Carl was careful to hold her just out of reach so that she couldn't pull on his bandages.

"She just learned how to roll over on her own." Michonne beamed.

With Judith, the silence was more bearable. Held less weight of what was being left unsaid.

After a few moments a soft knock at the door revealed Denise standing there, her med-kit tucked under one arm. "I'm sorry to interrupt, I really am. But I need to talk to Carl."

Carl handed Judith back to Michonne reluctantly. She fussed a bit, but didn't cry.

"Good to see you're up." Denise smiled, but she moved carefully, like she was worried of breaking something.

" 's been a while." Carl tried to smile back, but with the bandages obscuring half his face it was a struggle. "Thank you, Denise. You saved my life."

"It's my job." She waved the gratitude away. "Now, how do you feel?"

"Not dead." Carl joked as Denise fished in her bag for a pen light

"Hmm." Denise muttered to herself, holding up Carl's good eyelid to shine the small light into his eye.

"What?" Rick hovered over her shoulder. "What is it?"

"Just trying to see what we're working with here."

Denise scribbled something on a notepad.

"How's the pain?" she asked.

Carl kind of shrugged one shoulder, not meeting her eyes.

"Carl?"

"About what you'd expect, I guess."

She sighed. "Just the brave little soldier I expected. Let me get you something."

She held out a worn pill bottle to him, it was an orange prescription bottle but the label was long gone. Carl hesitated for a moment to take it, but once he did he shook one of the pills into his palm and swallowed it down without water.

"One of those a day. With food, you hear me?"

Carl nodded.

"How are you feeling? Any dizziness?" She asked, notepad at the ready.

Denise caught the way Carl's eye jumped up to look at his father before he answered. "I'm fine."

"I see." She closed her notepad and turned to Rick. "Alright, that's it for vising hours. He really shouldn't even be awake at all yet, he needs rest. I'll come find you if there's anything you need to know."

Rick's face fell, but he nodded. "Sure thing, Doc."

Then he and Michonne slipped out the door, Judith beginning to cry as they left.

"Ok. Honestly this time." Denise crossed her arms, turning back to Carl. "How's the dizziness?"

Carl looked to the door, then back to her. "Nothing I can't handle."

"You know you don't have to protect him." Denise said gently, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Carl pulled his knees up to his chest to make room. He picked at a loose thread at the end of his sleeve. "Of course I do."

She sighed. "I get it. You want to make this easier on him. But you're not going to do that just by making things harder on yourself."

Carl still wouldn't look up at her.

"Carl, listen. No one doubts that you're strong."

"I do."

"I've seen you pretend like a master. So fake it. Be strong for your dad, be strong for the others. But you have to swear that you won't lie to me. I need to know how you're healing so I can help you. Can you do that?"

"think so." Carl mumbled.

"I won't tell anyone, ok?"

"Alright, alright. I promise."

"I'll hold you to it." Denise held out her hand for a fist bump.

For the first time since waking from his coma, Carl grinned. "You've been spending too much time with Tara" He said, returning the gesture.

Denise pushed up her glasses, blushing ever so slightly. "Well." Then she cleared her throat and became a doctor again. "This time honestly, how do you feel?"

Carl took a shaking breath. "I feel like I should be dead."

"but you aren't. Let's start from there."

Carl snorted, "It ain't much."

"Trust me. These days, it's everything."

"Yeah," Carl sighed, and then he was crying again. Quietly, his breath shaky and shallow. He cried silently, almost motionless, like there was a walker just out of sight he was trying to hide from.

"I miss Hershel" he muttered, using his sleeve to wipe the tears from his face.

"Who?"

"Nothing, nothing." Carl pinched the bridge of his nose. "Forget I said anything."