It's not peaceful on the outside of me. Not with walkers just feet away. But inside of me, I'm very much at ease tonight as Carl and me patrol along a piece of the courtyard fence protected by wood pallets. The sky is clear and the moon is full, and each and every star is shining with all it has, completely untouched by what's happened down here. That's nice to think about.

The walkers leave us alone, mostly, the pallets hiding us from them pretty well, but it's easy for us to see out and into the woods. Merle says it's not likely the Governor will attack in the night, though, which is probably the only reason Carl and I were put out on watch by ourselves. But whatever. I don't mind.

"Big Dipper."

Carl's a few steps to my right. I turn from the pallet and smile a little. "What?"

He nods above us. "Big Dipper."

Yep. There it is, picture-perfect. I raise a hand and trace a line with my finger. "North Star. Always find your way back home."

He readjusts his rifle. "Those are the only two I know."

I look back through a space in the pallet, squinting to help my eyes past the darkness and the walkers, and just as a warm breeze comes and makes my hair tickle my face, Carl talks again. "Glenn said the Governor threw you."

"Yep. Onto a table." I hesitate, because I haven't told anyone this next part, not even Dad. Merle doesn't even know exactly what happened. But this is Carl. "And then later he came to see me after the shootout. Yanked my head back, told me I didn't know what pain was. And then at the fight, he came and grabbed my throat. 'This is what pain is,' he said."

"Why?"

"'Cause he's a psycho, or 'cause I'm Merle's niece . . . but probably mostly 'cause he's a psycho."

Carl sighs. I look at him. I wait five seconds. Then, "Hey. I know you're not okay. And it's fine. I know you will be. Just . . . don't worry 'bout your dad. Rick's tough. Whatever he decides to do, he'll be fine. We all will."

Carl gazes out at the field for a while. "No, we won't be. Not if Andrea's right. If there's a war, someone's gonna die. Maybe a lot of people. Maybe a lot of our people."

"Carl, you can't worry about that."

"I'm not worried," he says simply. "I'm just . . . preparing myself."

I stare at him. "Well, don't."

He gives me a sort of sad look, and then he continues walking along the fence, leaving me behind, because I don't feel like moving. I'm not so relaxed now. And even with the warm breeze, I feel chilled.

Not long after this, Rick comes and takes over watch duty. And as he does, he tells Carl that he's going on a run with him and Michonne tomorrow.

"Me, too?" I say. Rick shakes his head at me though, and I frown.

But Carl, Carl's the one who asks Why not? and Rick puts a hand on his head. "Just kinda thought it'd be good for us to have a little time together."

With Michonne?

Carl and I walk back through the courtyard, back to the entrance and to our cell block. "What's goin' on?" I ask as we go, quietly. "Why are they splittin' us up?"

"I don't know. That's not –" He struggles for a moment. "That's not how it's supposed to be."

Exactly. I've had a stomachache all day, but now I think it's getting worse. We go through the cage hallway and into the dining room, and my dad and Merle are here, and as Carl slips away to his cell I go to Dad, pull him to the side. "Why doesn't Rick want me to go on the run with him and Carl tomorrow? Did I do somethin' wrong?"

"Nah, Syd," he says. "He just thinks it might be a good idea for you guys to . . . spend a little time apart."

And that makes no sense. "We just spent nearly three days apart."

"Yeah. . ." Dad sits down on top of a table and I cross my arms, because I already feel mad, and I'm not even sure why. "And both of you had breakdowns 'cause of it."

"I didn't –" But I rethink that. I did start sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of the woods. I had a nightmare about Carl getting devoured by walkers because I wasn't there for him. I took down a walker myself and then kicked its corpse around –

Wait a minute.

"Carl had a breakdown?"

Dad makes a face, looks around the dining room, and I do, too, but Merle's the only one here – just sitting over in the corner, watching us, looking kind of amused, which really gets under my skin. But Dad's talking again. "Look, don't tell him I told you 'bout this, but the whole time we were gone he didn't talk. Barely ate . . . Basically, everything you did."

" . . . Why didn't he tell me that?"

"'Cause he's got himself a little crush on ya," says Merle from behind me. Way too loud. "Wants you to think he's tough."

"He is tough!" I snap back. "And he doesn't have – we're not –" But Dad pulls me back around, and he tells Merle to stay out of this.

"And you nearly had a walker sneak up on ya back on the bridge, 'cause you're used to Carl always bein' there," Dad reminds me, and I clench my teeth, because I don't think he's being fair. "You two can't be that dependent on each other."

"We're not. We're just – we're friends." I almost add partners, but I don't think that would help us too much in this case. "And I don't want him goin' out there alone."

"Syd, he ain't alone."

"But it –" But it feels like it. That wouldn't help in this case, either. In fact, I'm not so sure this is a case I can win.

Dad brushes some hair out of my eyes. "You go on to bed. We'll figure out somethin' for you to do tomorrow, keep your mind off it."

Keep my mind off the fact that they're breaking up Carl and me. Making it impossible for me to protect him. Right. I leave the dining room – scowling at Merle as I go – and head straight for Carl's cell. I'm pissed now. Just a little while ago I was fine, looking at the stars, enjoying the night. Now I'm just . . . shit. There are tears in my eyes. Why the hell are there tears in my eyes? I reach up and swipe them away, growling under my breath, before stepping into the doorway of Carl's cell.

"You talk to your dad?" he says when he sees me.

"Yeah. He's with your dad on this." I don't tell him why. Mainly because I feel shitty about the whole thing, kind of wish my Dad had never told me, and don't want Carl to go through that, too. Because according to my swelling eyes, it's very upsetting. "So, just . . . I mean, I'm not gonna be there to have your back. So watch it."

And Carl, bless him, he smiles. "You worried about me?"

"Well, I know that you're helpless on your own."

He grins. Something about it makes my heart beat funny, maybe because, between the run tomorrow and the Governor planning on showing up at our doorstep, I may not get to see one of Carl's rare grins ever again –

That's stupid. That's stupid. Carl will be with Rick tomorrow. And he will be with me in the future. And between me and Rick, nothing bad is going to happen to him. Nothing bad is going to happen to Carl. Ever.

"Just be careful, man," I say. And he nods and I go to bed and have another dream of him getting attacked by walkers. Only then the Governor shows up and finishes him off, and I can't do a damn thing to stop it, because my dad and Rick think that Carl and I are too dependent on one another.

Well, maybe we have good reason for it.

As soon as I wake up in the morning, I start dreading the day ahead, because I'm pretty sure I won't be able to think about anything but Carl until he gets back. Then I change clothes, see the blood in my underwear, and find out that I'm very, very wrong.