Newly Revised

Sophia watched as the prison wall exploded between them and Ani, completely obscuring their sight of the woman. Even over the deafening ring in her ears caused by the blast, she could hear Ani yelling at Merle to get her out, to go and keep Sophia safe. She began to fight against Merle, insisting they had to go back, they had to find Ani, make sure she got out too, but Merle wasn't having it. It was only her arm that got hurt, she could've still fought. Ani could still be with them if she hadn't have gotten shot, Sophia thought, and the fact that the shot didn't even feel that bad upset her even more. But Merle just hoisted her over his shoulder in a way that she could only slump there, willing away the tears that fell traitorously down her face. He grabbed a bug out bag from one of the many stashes all over the prison, this one marked with a 'k' for kid and ran like hell through the admin building and out the back. As they finally made their way out of danger and around towards the water back towards the railroads, Sophia finally had enough. She kicked Merle as hard as she could in the gut, forcing him to drop her and the bag as he doubled over.

"You left her!" she exclaimed angrily and overly emotional. "She was right there and you left her!"

"I had to, girly," Merle said. "You don't see your arm like I do. I gotta see if the bullet's still in there."

"It's just a graze!"

"Hell no it ain't! Adrenaline's runnin' through your veins, girly, not lettin' you feel the damn pain," Merle told her sternly while taking off his button up shirt, using his teeth and hand to tear it. "You've got a hole in your arm, Phia. I've gotta make sure the bullet's out, and then we're gonna field dress it. You see any of them herbs Ani taught you 'bout?"

"There," Sophia pointed, somber at the fact that she did, in fact, have a hole in her left shoulder. "That's yarrow. And that's plantain. And we can use some of that wooly lamb's ear's leaves to dress the wound. Crush the yarrow and plantain together, then put it on the lamb's ear."

"You really do know your stuff, girly. Damn bit proud of ya for that. Ani is too," Merle told her, very impressed at the girl's knowledge and fast reaction time to getting a hold of herself. "Now, I'm gonna look at this. If the bullet's in there, I'm gonna have to dig it out, and all I've got's my knife for that. You're gonna have to bite a stick and hold in a scream, or I'm gonna have to knock you out. Are you prepared for this?"

"No," she said honestly, her voice small and weak. "I wish Ani was here."

"Well, she ain't. Neither is Daryl. No point in wishin' when we just gotta catch up to 'em. 'Til then, we got each other. I've got you, Phia. No worries about that."

"Do you really think we'll find them?"

"Course we will, if they don't find us first," Merle told her as he rolled the sleeve of her shirt away. "Who do you think taught Daryl how to track, how to hunt? Sure, boy's got a sense of smell and direction I couldn't ever with my days on the hard stuff. Hearing's like a damn bat's I swear. But I was the one that taught him the basics. My guess, we'll be circlin' each other like hawks on roadkill 'fore too long," he said, thinking that Daryl was probably somewhere around them now. "Now, Phia, ya gotta make a choice. I can knock you out, or you hold back your scream. That bullet is right there in plain sight."

"I can handle it. If Ani can do it, I can too," Sophia said bravely.

Merle looked at her with a scoff and said, "Gotta get rid of that hero complex you got goin' on. Ani ain't bulletproof."

"No, but she's stronger than you."

"That she is," Merle chuckled before looking at the girl seriously. "Gonna have to take your shirt off, girly. Need to tell what's blood and what's wound. And you can't move that arm much, so I'm gonna have to help."

Seeing her visibly stiffen at that, he carefully chose his next words so as not to upset her, nor show how angry he was at her response. Sophia had spent plenty of time with him and should have known by now that he wasn't anything like her bastard of a father. That sick fuck wasn't much better to Sophia than he had been to Carol; the only thing he hadn't done to her was force her to share his bed. It wasn't that he hadn't tried to, it was just that Carol had grown a spine long enough to run for a couple days. Ani had told him everything he needed to know about the kid shortly after she'd asked him to train Sophia. The girl had been so afraid when he'd gotten close to fix her stance Merle felt like he had no other choice than ask Ani. He hadn't wanted to ask the girl herself in case it brought up anything from her past; he didn't like talking about what happened at home either. She'd forced him to go through a 'class' on how to deal with trauma so that he could help Sophia better and learn how to talk to her. Apparently, his rough and tough way of talking wasn't going to help the little girl any and he'd been forced to learn how to be gentle. When she started shaking in front of him, Merle knew that Ani had been right to make him start communicating better.

"I've got a towel right here, we gonna wrap it around ya," he told her, describing everything that was going to happen from start to finish. "I won't see nothin', girly. Ain't touchin' nothin' but your shoulder and ya arms. I ain't your old man tryin' to cop a feel, I promise you that," he said, kneeling down and looking at her right in the eye. "You're my kin, Phia, have been for a while. Don't take me for your parents. I ain't gonna fail you like they did, I promise you. So trust me. Now, let's get this towel 'round ya, and then you're gonna use your good arm to bring your shirt up over the towel, and I'll help get it off your shoulders and head. Then, I'm gonna dig that fuckin' bullet outta your arm, clean it, dress it up with them plants you told me 'bout and get a new shirt on ya. A loose one if we have it that'll fit around the towel. You can take the towel off when you're nice and proper. I ain't your daddy, I'm your Pops, girly, and I ain't gonna pull that shit with ya."

"Okay," came her weak reply.

Doing exactly as he said he would, Merle wrapped the towel around her and made it a point of turning away until she told him she needed help. He carefully helped her good arm out of her shirt before getting it up and over her head when she asked for help. He slowly took the garment off her wounded shoulder as she held the towel white-knuckled to her skinny body. He gave her a stick to put in between her teeth and told her to bite down as hard as she could on it. Merle began to dig the bullet out of her shoulder with the tip of his knife as carefully as he could so as not to make the wound worse. It only took a moment to get the damn thing out, but Sophia was pale as paper, trembling with pain, and sweating profusely. Merle himself had a minor case of the shakes since he hadn't had to do something like that on someone so young before. Tending a wounded soldier on the battlefield was one thing; taking a bullet out of a little girl was something completely different. Double checking which plants and which parts he needed, Merle balked momentarily when Sophia told him he'd have to chew the plants together before he could put them on the wound.

"What do you mean chew?!" he asked incredulously.

"It's the sap and juices of the plant that do the healing part, Pops," she told him, her voice tight and strained. "I can do it if you don't want to. Ani showed me how."

"No, I got it girly. Just, how that damn tonic tasted, this ain't gonna taste any better," he griped before popping some of the herbs in his mouth as he used Sophia's old shirt and some water to clean the wound.

When he was done, he grabbed some of the leaves of the plant she'd called wooly lamb's ear and smeared the disgusting tasting concoction onto the broad leaf. He used the straps from his outer shirt as a makeshift bandage once the thing was on her wound and wrapped her up nice and tight so that she couldn't use the shoulder too much. He dug around in the bag and pulled out a shirt that looked to be about the size Ani wore and helped put it over her injured shoulder. Merle nodded and stood up only to turn around when Sophia told him she was able to finish getting it on herself. When she was done, she let him know he could turn around and handed him the towel. She looked so much smaller in the over-sized shirt that hung halfway to her knees while sheepishly holding the towel out to him.

"Twist it around until it's tight on your midriff, then tie it in a knot," Merle told her. "No, not like...No, you gotta...Dammit girly, c'mere." He grabbed up the bottom of the shirt with his hand and twisted. "Okay, you gotta help me with this part. Gotta make a loop and pull it through. Yeah, that's it."

"Is it okay to wear it like this? Isn't this Maggie's shirt? Won't it get ruined?"

"She won't be carin' none 'bout a few wrinkles. Not like we pulled the shirt outta order," Merle shrugged. "Now c'mon. Gotta get a move on 'fore the biters get here. Maybe find one or two of the others."

In the end, they'd spent the night in a car after looking for anyone from the prison all day and a meager meal of half a squirrel a piece. Merle sat in the front seat nodding off on watch while Sophia laid the back with the blanket that was in the pack. They continued their search in the morning, traveling past the roadway and into the woods once again, not even bothering going back to the prison. When Sophia suggested it, Merle simply asked if she knew what way any of the others went (she didn't) and if they had a trail to follow with all those walkers mucking up the place (they didn't). The only thing they could do was continue hoofing it until they could either find someplace safe to hold up or found their people. Whichever came first, Merle had said, they'd figure it out from there and stick together; they weren't going to be in any trouble if they just took care of each other. It was mid morning the next day when they found the first real clue that someone had survived the attack.

"That's Michonne's handiwork right there," Merle commented, looking at the mass of dead walkers. "Ain't Ani 'cause the heads are clean off! Only Michonne can do that."

"You could if you had your knife-hand back, Pops," Sophia complimented.

"Naw, not like this, sweetie. Not this clean. 'Sides, lookie there; arms and mouths off. It's Michy alright," he said, puckering his lips and looking around. "C'mon, we got 'er tracks right here. Ain't too old neither." They followed the trail to a hiking path with several clear prints in the dirt, Merle cheering the girl up when he pointed them out, "Aye, lookie here, girly. Got a few of 'em."

"That's Carl's!" Sophia said excitedly, pointing to one set of prints in particular. "He got out! I wonder if Judith did too! But, I don't see Ani's."

"Don't you be worryin' 'bout Ani. Girl's probably circlin' us as we speak," Merle said, hoping he sounded as certain as he was trying to; the truth was that he had no clue if she was even alive, her or his brother. "Let's get goin'. We'll find 'em."

He went as fast as the little girl could manage trying to catch up to Michonne before night fell around them once again. They stopped long enough to relieve themselves and for Sophia to do a little foraging so that they could have something to stop their stomachs from grumbling. Merle tried to keep her mind off of the people who were missing from the prison as well as where her mom might be. She'd asked if he thought she'd gone back to the prison, asked if he thought she was still alive after Rick sent her off. They didn't have any way of telling either of those things and it had disheartened the girl even more when he'd said so. He simply told her that if they were meant to stumble across her mom, they would, as the trail they were on opened up into some kind of sports field. There were a few buildings off in the distance that they headed for, spotting a biker bar a little while later that sat on the edge of a town. Someone walked out of it as they moved off to the side and behind cover as Merle scrunched his eyes trying to see who it was. A walker came up on the figure and it was when it fell with a slump and its head clear off that he was sure he knew who he was seeing.

"Hey! Michy!" he shouted out, making the woman pause and turn. A shit eating grin formed on both his and the woman's faces as he turned to Sophia and said, "See, didn't ol' Pops tell ya!"

~x~

Carl was walking silently in front of his dad as he fumed over the loss of his home, his best friends, Judith. He was angry, pissed, that his dad wanted to talk it out, when Ani had told them time and time again that the Governor was bad news and wanted everyone dead or otherwise dispersed. Now, Ani was gone, Michonne was gone, Sophia gone, Judith was...He shook his head to clear the image of her bloody car seat out of his mind as he trudged forward. Judith had been his and his dad's world after his mom had died and thanks to how his dad messed up, again, she was dead. The prison had been ruined and they all had to run thanks to his dad's spineless choice. He and Ani should have taken the shot when they had a chance and maybe then Hershel wouldn't have died. They'd lost everything and everyone that had been with them for over a year and it was all because his dad had tried talking and pleading instead of fighting. In his anger, he didn't even hear his dad calling for him to stop, not wanting to talk to or look at his father at the moment.

"Carl, stop!" Rick shouted a second time, more demanding. "We need to stick together. We gotta find a place with food, supplies." He noticed that Carl wasn't looking at him or even responding, so he put his hand on his shoulder and said, "Hey. We're gonna be..."

The words died on his tongue as Carl looked at him with a withering gaze, telling Rick everything he needed to know about his son's state of mind. Like Lori had with Shane and Ani, Carl blamed him for the downfall of the prison and Judith. Even Rick couldn't bring himself to think about that between the pain he was in both physically and mentally and the fact that he had to keep his only surviving child alive. Rick knew he was in bad shape and could barely feel anything other than pain with every step and his face felt like he'd gone ten rounds with a professional fighter. Yet it was the look on Carl's face as he shook his head again and trudged forward that broke Rick right apart, leaving him to hobble along behind his son. They continued on in silence for quite some time before they found an old biker bar on the outskirts of a town. Rick and Carl both pulled their guns as they walked up to the door, though Rick was leaning heavily on the door frame as he opened the screen. They didn't have much of a choice but to go in to look for supplies but he didn't want to put Carl in danger again.

"Wait outside, okay?" he told Carl. "Keep watch."

"You keep watch," Carl spat right back. "You can barely stand. I'm not gonna let you go in there alone."

"Excuse me?" Rick told him in an authoritative voice.

"We've done this before," Carl told him before grumbling, "I'm gonna help you clear it. You should just let me do it myself."

Rick had to swallow his pride at the look Carl gave him before he opened the door and went in with a small affirmation to his son. There wasn't much in the place; the entire front room was emptied of all the tables and chairs and the food in the kitchen was gone. The only place they did find supplies was in the private room that had all the missing tables and chairs in it. A walker was barricaded behind them all with a shelf with some chips and bottles of hot sauce behind it. They didn't have any use for the hot sauce, but the chips were the first sustenance they'd found since being on the road. Carl knew he could have done some foraging while they were walking. He just hadn't wanted to do anything while he was wading through a storm of anger, sadness, regret, and a little guilt over not protecting Judith first. The chips behind the walker might be the only food they would be able to have for a few days. The walker was very weak considering it couldn't even get through the barrier it had created for itself. Carl brought his gun up and aimed his shot perfectly, wanting to end the thing and get what they needed to done.

"I can get it from here," Carl commented, aiming his shot perfectly.

"No," Rick said. "No, it's weak. I'll draw it out. Stay back."

Carl picked up a piece of paper and read 'please do what I couldn't' on it as Rick moved some of the barricade. Rick tried to kill the thing with the ax the walker had obviously left to kill it before it died but he was so weak from the beating he'd taken that he wasn't able to get a clean cleave. The ax embedded itself in the skull, but didn't penetrate the brain and he couldn't get the damn thing back out. He was struggling badly as Carl watched, angry that his father wouldn't just let him do what needed to be done. It was the Governor all over again; his dad wanted to do things the hard way rather than the direct way. His dad had always been a pacifist when it came to conflict and he'd always tried to settle things in a morally correct way. The problem with that was that in the world as it was, trying to resolve a conflict without violence was completely idiotic. Carl knew that there was always going to be something they had to fight either for or against and the sooner his father realized that, the sooner they could really be safe. He raised his gun when he saw an opening even as his father told him not to and took the shot. The walker fell to the floor with Rick breathing heavily for a moment before he rounded on Carl in the same fury the boy felt towards his father.

"I said not to!"

"You couldn't do it with the ax!" Carl shot back, just as heated.

"I had it," Rick said. "Every bullet counts. What if you needed that one for later? See what you can find, then let's move on."

He turned his back on his son then, trying very hard not to be angry with him because not all the anger he was feeling, not even a small part of it, was actually Carl's fault. His anger was towards himself and the fact that he had messed up yet again. Rick left the room with the ax as Carl got to work bagging up all the edible stuff off the shelf. There ended up being a few bags of chips and some surprise jars of olives and okra, which made him turn up his nose. While Carl wouldn't say no to any food now, not even grubs Ani brought back to the prison, okra was still one of his least favorite foods. It didn't take long for him to grab it all down from the shelf and out of the back room the walker had walked out of originally. His dad came back in with a bag, a couple water bottles and some first aide stuff and asked him what he had found himself. Carl walked over with what he had and roughly shoved it all into the bag his dad was holding.

"I win," he said defiantly as he walked off.

They spent some more time walking along, silent as ever, following the road from the bar and into the suburbs of town. Rick carried the bag with the supplies while Carl remained out front, doing his best to find a quiet place in his mind. Someplace that wasn't replaying the fight at the prison, that wasn't showing him Judith's bloodied car seat, that wasn't worrying over where Sophia was, or Michonne, or Ani, or Daryl. He missed the woman he'd come to call sister like Sophia had, the girl his heart was aching over once again, his best friend in the whole world who seemed to always take time out of her day to read comics with him. He'd never get to finish learning Muay Thai with Ani or how to shoot a bow with Sophia and Merle. He'd never get a chance to start practicing with a sword like he'd asked Michonne to teach him. All of his hopes had been dashed because his dad was too afraid to pull the trigger and be done with it. He was mad at himself, too, because Ani always said to trust your gut, and maybe, just maybe, if he had, they'd all still be together at the prison. The thoughts consumed him as he walked past house after house until his dad called out and ushered him to stop.

"Hey," he said, coming up to stand beside Carl and indicating the house he was about to walk past. "That one's as good as any."

They walked up to the door of the house, Rick busting into it since something was blocking the door on the inside. It wasn't too difficult to get open, but it still caused him to stumble for a minute before he was able to steady himself. He and Carl raised their weapons and entered the house as they began making sure it was clear of walkers. Carl moved faster than Rick which worried him because he couldn't move very fast himself. With his injuries, he wouldn't be able to make it to Carl if a walker were in the house. Carl didn't seem to give a care in the world that he was putting himself at risk and Rick didn't know what he would do in such a state. He went after his son as fast as he could with the pain he was in, telling him to wait and go with him.

"I got it," Carl told him in an exasperated whisper-yell. "All the doors down here are open."

"Stop!" Rick said as loudly as he could, over having his authority as a father challenged by his son.

Carl rolled his eyes as he turned around, glaring at Rick for a moment before pounding his fist on the wall. "Hey asshole!" he yelled, pounding the wall again. "Hey shitface!" Another pound, "Hey-"

"Watch your mouth!" Rick yelled at him.

"Are you kidding me?" Carl asked him just as pissed as Rick seemed. "If there's one of them down there, they would've come out."

He walked upstairs, just wanting to be away from his father for a little while so that he could have a moment just for him and his thoughts. He got his moment as he stood in awe when he walked into what was obviously a teen's room, chuckling at the games he found on the entertainment center. Then he became somber, spying his reflection in the surface of the television, a reflection he didn't recognize from the last time he saw himself outside of the pictures Ani had taken. He wasn't a kid anymore and would never have the lifestyle of a normal teen. He could've at least had friends, family, laughter, food, shelter, fun; everything he was supposed to get and have at the prison. But no, now he was on the road, losing everyone thanks to his dad's dumb decision to try to talk his way out of the problem. He pushed the games away in frustration and pulled out the long cables at the back of the television, going back downstairs. Night was falling, and they needed a way to secure the doors and even if Shane had been an asshole, he still taught Carl a thing or two. One of those things was how to tie a proper knot that couldn't come undone, which was what he did before his father started trying to push a sofa in front of the door.

"I tied the door shut."

"We don't need to take any chances," Rick said.

"You don't think it'll hold?!"

"Carl!"

"It's a strong knot. Clove hitch. Shane taught me and Ani showed me how to make it even tighter. Do you even remember Shane?"

"Yeah, I remember. I remember him every day," Rick told his son. "There something else you want to say to me?"

It's your fault for the prison. It's your fault for the way things turned out. Your fault Sophia and Michonne aren't here. Your fault Ani and Glenn had to fight while still sick. Your fault Judith is dead. The tally kept going on and on in his head as Rick stood there looking at him, waiting for an answer he was never going to get. Instead, Carl simply moved to help push the couch up against the door so that his father could have peace of mind even if it irritated him all to hell. He stood listening to his dad wheeze before the man took off his belt and sat down, offering Carl some food. He snapped back at Rick's suggestion of eating that they needed to save it before he went about making himself a place to sleep. Rick was beyond frustrated with Carl's attitude and followed him with the chips only for Carl to tell him he didn't want it and wouldn't eat it.

"Eat it. Now," Rick commanded as he threw the bag of food at his son's feet.

Carl didn't listen, though, and shoved the bag to the side to lay down to get some sleep, or at least pretend he was. His mind was too fixated on everything that had happened and all the people he had lost less than twelve hours ago. It went back to Sophia and the look on her face when she'd found out about her mom and how he'd wanted to keep her from feeling so bad ever again. It went back to how Michonne always went out of her way to find him comic books and candy every time she was on a run. Ani would always check in every morning and night and trying to sleep without her nightly chatter about random, stupid stuff was difficult. It took him forever to get to sleep and when he woke up in the morning, he looked over at his dad before grabbing his gun belt and the cereal his dad had thrown at him the night before. He poured himself a bowl before thinking about his dad and pouring one for him to have when he woke up, too. He left it next to the man who was still wheezing away, passed out on the couch pushed up to the door before returning to the table to eat himself. He went to clean his bowl when he was done but decided that no one would care, anyway, so just left it in the sink. He went back up to the teen's room and pulled out one of the books from the shelves that seemed interesting. If Ani had taught him one thing about learning, it was that books were the best weapon, the mind the best tool. He was halfway through one of the books when he decided it was time to check on his dad again only to find him in the exact same position he'd been in when he woke up.

"Hey, dad? Dad?" Carl kicked his foot a couple times before sitting next to him, becoming frustrated to the point of yelling. "Dad, wake up. Wake up! Come on! Dad, wake up! Wake up!"

All he got in response was pounding on the door and the groan of the walkers that had been drawn in by his raised voice. Carl grabbed his hat and gun and made his way through the house and out of a side door. He stuck his head out of it first to make sure the coast was clear before heading around the house to get to the front. There were two walkers banging on the front door trying to get in, though it didn't seem like there were any more around. He knew he had to be careful in order to get them away from the house. His dad couldn't fend for himself in the condition he was in and even though he and a couch was in front of the door, he didn't want to take any chances. There were only two walkers and he'd taken out that many before by himself. He called out to the things and started making them follow him as he walked backwards down the road. Carl managed to get them to the next house over before another walker came from behind, its snarls the only warning the boy had. He swore to himself more than anything as the three boxed him in as he began desperately against one of them. It took getting knocked down for him to remember all the things Ani had made him train in and kick the closest walker's legs out. His first shot killed the walker that was fast approaching only for the thing to fall on his legs and momentarily trap him. The second walker threw itself over the first in an attempt to get at him, forcing him to take aim and once again pull the trigger. Carl began to panic when that walker fell on him too and the walker he'd knocked down started crawling over the other two. The weight of the walkers on top of him made Carl have hard time keeping the third one at bay while trying to aim at the same time. It took three shots to finally fall the thing with all three walkers now on top of his body and him struggling to get out. He had been really brave when he'd started out, but being that close to being bit with no one around to help him made him puke. It had been a stupid thing to do, but, at the same time, he took on three walkers by himself and came out on top. Being a teenager, the pride and adrenaline flowing through his head overshadowed the fear as he bent down to grab his hat.

"I win," he said when he put his hat back on, feeling invincible. "Cool." He walked back into the house and saw his dad in the same position he'd been in, informing him, "I took down three walkers. They were at the door. They were going to get in, but I lured them away. I killed them. I saved you!" he yelled at his dad. "I saved you! I didn't forget while you had us playing farmer. I still know how to survive, lucky for us. I don't need you anymore. I don't need you to protect me anymore. I can take care of myself. You probably can't even protect me anyways! You couldn't protect Judith...Hershel or Glenn or Maggie. Michonne, Daryl, Ani, Merle, Sophia...or Mom. You just wanted to plant vegetables. You just wanted to hide. He knew where we were and you didn't care!" he shouted in anger. "You just hid behind those fences, not taking any chances or letting Ani do all the things she wanted to build defenses! You just waited! They're all gone now! Because of you! They counted on you! You were supposed to be on of their leaders! But now...you're nothing." He sat at the end of the couch and cried for a minute before dumping out the bag of supplies they'd gotten and standing up. "I'd be fine if you died," he said before walking out of the house once again.

Carl found a rather large house that looked relatively safe as he wandered around the neighborhood. He thought it'd be really cool to shoulder check the door like he'd seen in movies. Movies weren't fact, though, and he learned that hard way and felt like an idiot as he fell on his back when the door held. Carl went straight to the kitchen after using his light to break the lock and started checking the cupboards. For the first time since they'd brought in food from the prison's cafeteria and the Big Spot, he found a horde of canned goods. His eyes went wide when he looked over to the fridge and he quickly grabbed a chair to pull the large can of chocolate pudding off of it. Carl walked upstairs to see if there was anything useful there, too, the first two rooms having nothing to show to him. He opened the third door only for a walker to come at him as soon as he did. He tried to get the door closed again using all of his weight, but the walker's arm was in the way, still trying to get at him. Even though he managed to break the arm, he was still overpowered which caused him to fall. He didn't mean to discharge his gun twice at nothing, only hitting the walker with his third shot. The walker didn't die, however, and instead fell from the impact of the bullet to its face and began crawling towards Carl and grabbing at his legs.

Carl kicked the walker in the face several times until it let go and ran into another bedroom after the door wouldn't close because of a pile of books that had fallen during the struggle. He tried the window, thinking if he could get out to the roof he could get out of the house and away from the walker now that he didn't have any bullets. The walker force it's way into the room as Carl began to panic from being trapped without a real weapon. He struggled with all his might when the walker knocked him down, trying to get away by using the door frame to pull himself out of the room. The panic grew to sheer terror as the walker kept trying to take a bite out of him. The only reason he got away was because he managed to kick his shoe off and move away. Carl launched himself from the room as the walker tried to take a bite of what it thought was a tasty treat. Before he even managed to get the door shut, though, it realized it wasn't biting into flesh and made for Carl yet again. How many books do they need? he thought as he desperately began kicking the offending items into the room. He barely managed to get the door slammed shut before the walker got to the opening and slumped back against it.

Carl couldn't help but heave a few heavy sighs and thank his lucky stars that he had gotten through that ordeal. He didn't kill the walker, but he had bested the thing and come out on top with nothing to show for it except for the loss of his shoe. He really didn't care about the loss since there were plenty of shoes back at the other house that he could replace it with. Spying a piece of chalk that must have come from the room, and grabbed it up to write on the door that there was a walker inside. Smiling to himself after adding that he only lost a shoe, he walked back downstairs and found a can opener and a large spoon. Grabbing the can of pudding and going back upstairs, he went into the room next to the walker's and opened the window to sit on the roof as he ate his spoils. He ate almost the entire can of pudding and he ended up passing out from a sugar crash almost as soon as he got back to the house. Carl sat by his dad's feet dozing until raspy breathing woke him in the dead of night. He watched as his father began to twitch and moan and groan on the couch as he moved away. Rick fell to the floor at the same time Carl tripped and fell himself as he broke into sobs. He knew what needed to be done and grabbed his gun to hold it at the read only to completely give up as his dad's hand grabbed a hold of his ankle. No matter what he'd said, he had been angry and the last thing he wanted was to have to end both of his parents.

"I can't," he said, putting his gun down. "I'm sorry. I was wrong. Just do it."

"Carl," his dad wheezed out. "Don't go outside. Stay safe," he told him before he passed out on Carl's legs.

Carl could only sob and move his dad's head to his knees and admit quietly, "I'm scared. I'm so scared."

He cried for a while before getting into a more comfortable position, keeping his dad's head on his stomach as he drifted to sleep. Carl didn't wake up again until his dad stirred and moved off his stomach as he sat up. Carl quickly got to his feet and helped Rick up when he tried to stand before hugging him tightly. He stayed like that for a few minutes, just thankful that his dad was alive and awake after sleeping for an entire day. After what had happened the night before, Carl couldn't feel any anger anymore, just gratitude that his dad wasn't dead. Rick listened to Carl tell him about the day before as they sat on the couch after asking him about the food. There hadn't been a lot in this house when they'd gotten there and now there was a large pile on the table. While Rick was happy his son was safe and sound and that they had more food, he still chastised his son.

"You shouldn't have gone out there like that," he told Carl. "It's dangerous."

"I was careful."

"It's good that you found more food."

"I found even more," Carl admitted. "But I ate it."

"What was it?"

"A hundred and twelve ounces of chocolate pudding," he answered with a laugh.

They shared a chuckle before Rick began talking, "I know things will never get back to the way they used to be."

"What?" Carl asked in confusion.

"I only clung to that for you. For Judith," Rick admitted. "Now she's gone. And you...you're a man, Carl. You're a man. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be," Carl said, letting go of the residual negative feelings for his dad.

They started eating before a knock was heard on the door, Rick struggling to his feet to look through the peephole. He saw who was outside and tried to keep himself from getting overwhelmed at the sight of the three members of their group on the stoop. They hadn't lost everyone; Michonne, Sophia, and Merle were all outside and waiting for them. Rick was so relieved that a smile crept onto his face even though it hurt to even move. He sat back down on the couch with a chuckle knowing that Carl was looking at him oddly. He really didn't care, though, considering his son's best friends were standing outside waiting for them. When Carl finally asked who it was, all Rick did was smile at his son and gesture towards the door.

"It's for you."