Reviews:

RHatch89- Thanks :)

-Carl's POV-

Rhys tells me he'll head to the main gate and wait for Mikey to get back with Michonne and Spencer. He asks me to join him, but I've had a pit in my stomach since I yelled at Enid, so I tell him I'm going to go find her. He smiles and tells me that's probably for the best.

I head to Enid's place, Olivia pointing me in the direction of the armoury as she restocks a shelf in the open pantry. I find Enid where I was told. She's sitting on the armoury floor and staring intently at a rack of rifles.

"Are you-" I try, scrunching up my face when my brain forgets how to speak. "Okay. Are you okay?"

Enid nods, still staring at the guns. Her back is turned to me, and her knees are up to her chest.

"Why are you in here?"

"Helps me think," she mumbles, clearly in the middle of said thinking.

"Guns help you think?"

She shakes her head. "I just feel safer in here."

Enid sighs. Then she's up, moving to sit in a rocking chair by the armoury closet. She folds her arms.

I have to turn my head to see her as she moves into my blind spot.

"Sorry I yelled," I tell her.

Enid shakes her head once again, seemingly unphased by it. "Why do you want us to keep going out there?" she asks.

"I told you... it's what kids do."

"And I told you... we're not kids anymore," she says with a humph.

I sit on the floor by her feet, my back against her chair, knees pulled to my chin. "Feels like you guys did that without me."

"What do you mean?" Enid asks. I guess all is forgiven because I can feel her playing with my hair from behind me. I think about how Enid's like the ocean. She doesn't hold her grudges. She just carries them away to somewhere that they don't bother her.

"Last time I saw you, you were running away from us. Running away from this place and everything that it's supposed to be." I shrug, blowing air through my cheeks. "I wake up, and you're back here. Afraid to leave."

Enid lets out a small scoff. I hear it, with my back still facing her. I'm used to that, though. It's like the only time she feels okay to do it.

"Mikey hadn't even been outside back then," I continue, "now he goes on patrols." I sigh. "And Rhys, he seems like he's got... shit."

"Take your time," Enid tells me as I struggle with my words. She's the easiest to be around when I grapple against my wonky speech. Somehow she doesn't feel sorry for me or get annoyed at me. Enid just waits, like the calm ocean I've discovered her to be.

I grimace hard, sorting through the words as they fly around my head. An alphabetical tornado of frustration. "A place. It's like he has a place here."

"That makes you sad?"

"Not sad," I tell her, turning my head to look up at her. Enid's hands follow my head as she keeps a hold of my hair. "It just feels like you guys grew up without me."

"You could go out on patrol with them," she suggests, still fiddling with my hair. I start to worry she might be plaiting it.

"Yeah," I snort, "because everyone wants to go on patrol with the kid with one eye that can't shoot a gun for shit."

Enid lets out a small chuckle, then I feel her shrug. "People go on patrol with the kid with one ear that can't shoot much better. You guys could even go on patrol together," Enid suggests. "You'd make up a whole person then."

I bark a laugh at that, standing up before she finishes whatever she was doing to my hair. Pins and needles shoot through one of my legs, so I do a funny dance to shake them out. Enid looks amused.

"Is everything okay with you and Rhys?" She asks, an eyebrow up.

"I don't know," I admit. "It's like he's scared of me."

"He almost lost you," Enid says simply. "He did lose you. He needs to get used to having you again."

I nod, then I turn to face the door. "I need to head home. Physical therapy exercises."

"Are you still throwing darts for that?"

"Nearly blinded Rhys this morning, so I'll stick to my PT ball for now."

"Carl..." Enid stops me as I go to leave. "Why did you want Mikey to put down Deanna?"

"Because..." I say like it's enough, realising it's not when I see her face waiting for more. "When I woke up, dad had to tell me that my mom was dead again. I remembered killing her. I remembered that I did it for her. It had to be me... It had to be Mikey."

I stop by the lakeside on my way home, staring into the water until the ripples make me feel all wobbly, and I lose my balance. I sit down, staring at a tree out beyond the wall. Its leaves are dancing in and out of view, the wind stirring it back and forth. I remember a tree that mom and me planted in our backyard just after dad was shot.

I think about how I'm meant to beat this world for her.

I wonder if she'd even recognise me anymore. I glance back down to the water's reflection of me and realise that I barely recognise myself. I must have gotten older in my long sleep... and half my face is missing nowadays.

She's been in my head since I woke up. My mom. Making it hard to speak, muddling my words in important moments with thoughts of a family I don't have anymore.

I look back up at the tree beyond the wall, deciding to speak back to that voice.

"Do you remember when I found out you were pregnant?"

The tree billows gently, the sound of its branches scratching against the metal wall.

"I asked you if it was a boy or a girl, and you said we wouldn't know until it's born," I tell the tree as it sways. "I told you I wanted to name it Sophia if it was a girl, and you got that look on your face." I smile to myself. "Shane told me I'd be a cool big brother. I'm trying."

I'm exhausted from the climbing and the shouting, the ghosts and the tides. I lie back to the grass, finding a cosy spot amongst a patch of sprouting daffodils. Falling asleep beneath my hat.

When I wake up, there's dirt in my dry mouth. Saliva along my cheek. I sit up and wipe my face lazily with the back of my hand, a groggy groan escapes me as I stretch out my burning arms.

The sky is dark, and the stars light my way home. Tara's sitting on the porch with Judith.

"You okay?" She asks, trying to stifle a yawn against her shoulder.

I nod, trying not to speak when I don't need to. I point to Judith, and Tara understands, thanking me before leaving.

I take my sister from a pile of blankets on the porch bench, sitting us in the rocking chair beside it instead. She's more awake than Tara and I, more awake than any of us.

My sister was the first to make me cry after I woke up. Dad brought her to see me the same day. She started to cry because she didn't recognise me, a pirate lying in a hospital bed. A stranger.

Judith's laughing now, though. Gwendolyn is in her hands until she drops the giraffe to the floor. I really don't want to stand up and get it for her, so I distract Judith instead.

"See that bright one?" I whisper, pointing my arm up to the night sky. Judith points, too, trying to follow me as we head to space. "Yeah? That's the North Star. It's at the end of the Little Dipper." We both stare up at it, twinkling down at us. "If you get lost at night, just find that star."

There's a creek on the porch step. I look up and see Michonne taking off her sword. She leans against the railing opposite us. "Hey," she says, the corner of her mouth twitching ever so slightly.

"Hey."

"You have a good day?"

"I guess so."

Knowing that Mikey probably spilt the beans and not wanting a lecture, I get up. "I better take Judith in."

"Carl." She stops me, sounding serious. "Mikey told me what you did... with Deanna."

Knowing I can't avoid it, I move to stand beside her, listening to the sound of chirping crickets in the distance.

"You should have left her or killed her," Michonne says very slowly, putting the emphasis where needed.

"No, that's stupid."

"What's stupid is you being out there when you don't have to. You putting Mikey in danger when you could have dealt with it," Michonne hisses, trying not to upset Judith.

"I couldn't kill her."

"Why not?" Michonne breathes deep, sounding more irked by the second.

"Because-" I try, but my words are muddled again, the spinning voice in my head trips me up.

"You could have killed her," Michonne says while I struggle.

"No, I-"

"Were you playing some sort of game out there? Did you think that-"

"No!" I finally shout at her, needing her to stop, to let me catch my thoughts. Judith stays quiet, somehow seeming to sense how important this is to me.

"Then why?" Michonne asks.

"Because-" I take a breath to focus on my answer. My mom is still in my head, helping me clear it this time. "It should be someone who loved her, someone who's family... and I- I'd do it for you. I would."

Michonne looks stunned for a moment, her eyes wide and emotional.

"Come here," she mouths the words after a note of silence. Hugging me with Judith between us. "Me, too," she whispers in my ear.

-Rhys' POV-

I've climbed out my bedroom window, lying on the porch roof of 99. When it gets cold, I grab my crumpled bedsheets and a pillow, tossing them out the window and onto the roof, deciding I need the fresh air tonight.

Just when I think I might drift off, a small stone hits my cheek. I bolt upright, another stone whizzing past my face and hitting the wall beside my window. I peek off the roof's edge to see Carl Grimes standing on the lawn below.

"Are you throwing rocks at me?" I ask, amused and tired, probably landing in a weird middle ground tonally.

"Aiming for your window," Carl squints up at me with his one eye. "Why are you on the roof?"

"It's a nice night," I respond, looking over my shoulder to the foot-wide gap between where my window lies and his rock had struck. "Your aim sucks."

Carl points to his eye patch then flips me off.

I chuckle at him.

"Can I come up?" he whispers.

I nod, surprised when he opts to climb the guttering instead of taking the stairs. He grabs my hand when I offer it to hoist him up.

"Oh, boy," he breaths looking over the edge.

"We can go inside..."

"No-" he pauses. "No, it's fine. I'm fine."

I share my sheets when he shudders, the pillow too, our heads pressed together since I only brought one.

"How's M doing?" Carl asks.

"Fine," I yawn. "He's With his brother. They're dealing with it the Monroe way."

"Listening to death metal?"

I laugh at him. "NIN isn't death metal."

Carl grins back, saying, "I have no idea who that is."

A gentle breeze passes by us, so we both go quiet, listening to the wind as it whistles through the guttering. A small moment of stillness.

Carl speaks again. "Dad and Daryl found a guy on their run today... a whole truck of food too... but it's- it's at the bottom of a lake."

"The bottom of a lake?"

Carl shrugs an, 'I don't know,' my way.

I notice something then, reaching my hand into his hair and tugging on it.

"Ow," he says like it didn't really hurt, flicking my hand away with his.

"Why is your hair braided?" I ask.

He snickers to himself. "Me and Enid made up," he answers.

"That makes sense," I smile.

"Does it look dumb?" he asks then.

I tug on it again, more gently this time. "I like it."

He tucks it under his head anyway.

"So, what brings you to my humble porch roof?" I ask then, looking at Carl.

He goes bright red, visible even under the dim moonlight.

"What?" I ask.

"My Dad... and Michonne."

"What?" I repeat.

"They're um... I think I heard them... you know..."

"Oh... right..." I take a second to get that in my head, then desperately shake it to get it out. "Gross."

Carl blows air through his cheeks and lets out an uncomfortable laugh.

"Sorry," I say. "Is that okay with you?"

"I think so."

"So..." I hum, "you're here because your dad and Michonne are doing it?"

"Dude!" Carl cackles at me, hiding in his hands.

"Sorry," I chuckle up at the stars.

"That's not the only reason I came."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he breathes, coming out of his hands and watching me closely, this faint light in his eye.

I wait for him to elaborate.

"I wanted to talk," Carl says finally.

"Okay."

I wait again.

"You need to know I'm real," he says.

"I know you are..."

"No. I mean-" Carl stops. I can't tell if he's struggling or just thinking.

"Are we still something?" he asks finally.

"Carl..."

"Because I get it if you don't want to be... if you feel like I'm not the same. Because I guess I'm not. I've only got one eye now."

"I don't care about your eye, man."

"It's ugly looking," he shrugs.

"Uh, hello?" I point to my bandaged ear. "Pot, meet the kettle."

Carl shakes his head at me, not finding it particularly funny.

"Let's go inside," I tell him.

"You want me to stay here?"

"I do."

Carl nods quickly.

"You want to stay here?" I ask.

He nods again.

I sniff, looking at him earnestly. "Just to sleep."

Carl's eye flickers out for a moment. But he nods anyway.

A/N

The return of Gwendolyn, the blue giraffe! Feels like forever.

Really enjoyed going back to season 2 to find the dialogue for Carl talking to Lori.

Next Time: A wild Jesus appears!