He wasn't sure when it had happened but he had recognised something in Carol quite early in their association; like recognises like, that's what his mama always told him, and he saw something in her that echoed within his chest. She was a survivor too, he understood that on some instinctive level, respected that. Watching her quiet dignity while her husband routinely abused her, seeing the way she picked herself back up after Ed knocked her down time after time with his insults, or worse sometimes his fists, made him realise that she was a lot stronger than most people realised, maybe even stronger than she realised herself.

He couldn't remember when he had started looking out for her and her daughter, although he guessed it was round about the time that her husband died. He had recently lost Merle and had decided to stay with the group for a little while. It just seemed natural to watch over her and Sophia while she found her feet, and by the time she did find her feet it was second nature to look for them in the crowd. He would check in without speaking, just making sure that they were accounted for, that they were fed. It took a long time for him to recognise the feelings that they roused in him, unfamiliar feelings that he was better off without, he cared, much as he didn't want to he couldn't escape that fact.

The day that the walker herd came by on the highway and Sophia was lost haunted him. He still woke with the sound of Carol's sobbing in his ears, still dreamed of the days and nights he spent combing the forest searching for any sign of the girl. He hadn't fully understood it at the time, he'd just done what his instincts demanded he do.

When they'd half carried him back to Hershel's farm, one of his own arrows still sticking out of his side and grazed at the temple by Andrea's bullet, his only thought had been to wonder how long it would be before he could get back out there and pick up the trail. She had brought him dinner that night, thanked him for doing more for her daughter than Ed, her father, ever had. He'd known at that moment, when she planted a gentle kiss on his bandaged head, that the risk had been worth it. He had known that he would do it all again, over and over, until he brought Sophia home.

Later, after they had discovered what happened to her, he had removed himself from the others, unable to look at Carol's devastated face or the Cherokee rose that he had brought to the RV for her while Sophia was missing. He had needed to be alone with the reality that he had failed her, failed all of them, that he was weak and selfish and could have done more. He had needed to purge the feelings that were too raw for him to process before they consumed him.

Grief-stricken and angry, he had thrown harsh words at Carol when she tried to bring him back to the group. He threw words at her that he knew would hurt, trying to drive her away when really he wanted her to stay, to tell him that he hadn't failed her or her little girl. That was when it dawned on him. When he exploded and he told Carol that Sophia wasn't even his daughter and she should have looked out for her better, he had finally known. Something deep inside him had begun to think of her as his own, had wanted that girl to be his. He had started to think of them as his family, Sophia and her mother, his heart had claimed them both without him even being aware of it.