Every word from Morgan and Dr. Bennett about not rushing things with Carl flew out of Rick's mind. As if under their own volition, his feet propelled him to the bed and his arms flew around his oldest, holding him close. Carl was thinner, who knows how long he was out there surviving on his own, but now he was right here. Warm and real with his heart beating strong against Rick's chest. Tears flowed. Rick couldn't stop them. They flowed faster with the feel of Carl's arms around him, returning the embrace.

"I…I don't remember," Carl said softly. "I don't remember any of you, but… I know I love you. I feel it." Carl pulled out of the hug and looked into Rick's eyes. "How is that?"

Rick could only stare back as he sat on the edge of the bed, cupping Carl's cheek. He had no idea how to answer. Not how Carl felt love for the family he couldn't remember or how he could even be here with the telltale sign of the bullet that was meant to end a curse of living death etched just off from his right temple, but both things were real. It was RJ's dream image in reality. From the patch, to the beard. His son was alive, but the how of all of this remained a mystery.

"It's us," RJ replied, stepping forward. "It's Dad and Mom and what they gave us."

Rick slid to the edge of the bed as a teary Michonne approached. Sniffling, she pressed her hand to Carl's fuzzy cheek. Carl smiled and covered her hand with his.

"I can't get over this." She kissed his forehead. Her lips lingered for several seconds. "How are you feeling?" she asked, settling on the edge of the bed and stroking his shorter but still fairly long hair and tucking it behind his ear. "You're not in any pain, are you?"

"No, I'm not in pain. I'm confused. I know all the names of everyone and the connections from Morgan." Carl nudged his head at his siblings. "RJ, Judith, and Andre. My little brother, sister, and stepbrother. The older men in this family, we've all been believed dead for many years."

Andre chuckled. "We do have the strangest things in common," he quipped, stepping forward. "It's great to meet you. Rick has told me a lot."

"I wish I could say I know a lot, but what I've said is about all I know. Morgan told me about the guy, Pride, and what he'd done, but I didn't know him or recognize the name. I'm sorry for what he…"

"It's uh…" Andre waved off the words. "It's what it is."

Carl's attention returned to Michonne. "Morgan also said you were my best friend, but I feel something different."

"Different?" Michonne repeated, confusion marring her face.

"Like you're my mother more than my friend. I feel nurturing and unconditional love from you." He looked at Rick. "Both of you," he added before returning his attention to Michonne. "It's strong and comforting."

Rick couldn't stop his smile. Even with all he'd gone through and his memories of them locked away, Carl's closeness to Michonne was still the thing dearest to his heart. Rick considered it a gift being witness to the bond the two shared.

"Our relationship evolved over the years," Michonne said. "We struck a close friendship and it deepened over time. I loved you like you were my own. You and Judith."

Carl nodded. "I feel it, Mom."

Michonne blinked. "Mom?"

"Isn't that what I called you?"

"No. Judith does, but you called me 'Michonne.'"

"I think I would feel more comfortable calling you 'Mom.' That's what feels right to me. I mean… If – if you don't mind."

"You've always felt like my son." Tears slipped down Michonne's cheeks. "No, I don't mind at all," she said, wrapping Carl in a warm embrace.

With the swelling of his heart, Rick's gaze drifted over to Andre. The young man quickly glanced down at his feet. Rick had long suspected that only Carl's memories of Lori and his way of honoring her in death had kept him from referring to Michonne as his mother. Now, with no memory and all the feelings for her still there, the request made perfect sense. Perhaps, Andre would soon accept his true feelings for Michonne and see that recognizing the relationship for what it is would be the healthiest thing for him. "M" was a start, but "Mom" would be so much better. It was the first thing he'd said when he saw her, but then the excuses came. Still, Rick knew Andre was getting there, but maybe meeting Carl and hearing his sincere unfiltered words could be just the push Andre needed.

A teary-eyed Judith moved in closer to the bed when Carl and Michonne's hug ended. "This is the first time we've all been together as a family. My parents, my little brother, and my big brothers. My – my memories of you are faded, Carl. I remember details of our last day, but I wasn't quite three when you…" She shook her head and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I'm so glad you're back with us," she said. "I'm just getting to know Andre, and Dad is back with us after many years." She smiled at each of them. "Mom kept you all alive for RJ and me, and now we can all get to know each other together."

"Iris, Dr. Bennett, said I could possibly remember more," Carl remarked. "I want to, but I don't know if I can." Carl turned to RJ. "What did you mean when you said what I'm feeling is something we got from Mom and Dad?"

"Just that," RJ answered. "When Daddy came back, when I saw him in the woods, it was because I had a feeling I should be at that spot. Since then, I get feelings and see things in my dreams. Things that have happened to Andre and to you."

"Me?"

"Yeah." Rick nodded and moved next to RJ, rubbing his back. "Junior saw you in a dream. He described where you were and how you look now perfectly."

"Junior?"

"It's just a name for me," Rick answered.

"Hmm. Makes sense. I've seen my face, so I see our resemblance, but you and RJ." Carl grinned. "No denying those genes." Rick smiled down at his little twin. "What – what do you mean he saw me in a dream?"

"He knew you were alive," Michonne replied. "Since receiving the confirmation from Morgan, he's been seeing things without dreaming."

"He knows things," Rick added, recalling the numerous instances RJ shared his gift. "He's never been wrong. Knowing about you..." Rick blew out a breath. Unlike with him and Andre when the wrong but most plausible conclusion was drawn, Rick and Michonne had buried Carl in Virginia. They saw the bite, heard the shot, and saw the blood covering the burlap sack that Carl had insisted on covering his head with. He didn't want their last memory of him to be something so painful. But nothing could take the sting from that memory. "Carl, son, how are you here?"

"I got away from the people and the place that I was being held. How I get there is something I can't answer." His attention turned to RJ. "Can you answer that?"

"Not on my own." RJ looked around the room at his family. "But all of us of together." He nodded and smiled. "I think we can get you to an answer."

"What are you thinking, RJ?" Michonne asked, joining Rick next to him. "How can we help Carl remember?"

"Use our gift. What Carl, Andre, and I have came from you and Dad. Judith's connection to Carl and our love for her, our love for each other, that's all a part of the power that can help Carl. I'm the youngest, but because I'm the only one who's a blood relative to everyone with the cell structure, I feel this power the strongest. It, in a strange way, speaks to me. It tells me this can work. That we can help Carl remember." RJ closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, and released it. "I see you in a dark place. Like a tunnel."

Carl nodded. "That's where I was. I thought it was a cave, but it was like a vast bunker. A large underground compound. You know about that?"

"This ability is getting stronger. At first, it was just feeling your presence that did it, but all of us together, I feel more. It's like a charge. I can't see experiences from Mom and Dad, but I can feel what they feel in past and present moments. With you and Andre, I can see things that you have experienced, and feel strong emotions you had at that moment and in the present." RJ turned to the door and smiled. "Dr. Iris," he said, seconds before a knock and the young doctor opened the door.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your reunion, but I just wanted to make sure Carl wasn't overexerting himself," she said, her eyes locked on her patient. "I knew this could be a bit overwhelming for him."

RJ giggled. Rick glanced from his youngest to his oldest. Carl's face beamed like a signaling lighthouse, and Dr. Iris was the lost ship he was desperate to bring in.

Rick's eyes met Michonne's, and a little smile tugged at his lips from the humor he saw dancing in her warm brown pools. Dr. Iris had the same light on her face as Carl, and Michonne had noticed it as well. It was sweet. He could only speculate on what Carl had been through, but any shred of happiness his son could find brought Rick delight, especially since whatever he was feeling for the pretty doctor was so obviously reciprocated.

"Do you want to examine him again?" Michonne asked, making her way over to Rick. "We can step out and give you two a few minutes."

"That wouldn't be a problem," Rick concurred, taking Michonne's hand.

"No, Mr. and Mrs. Grimes, that's not necessary," Iris replied. "I just wanted to be sure Carl was okay. This reunion was weighing heavily on him, but I see everything is going great."

"You were right, Iris. Everything is fine, better than fine. I still don't remember them, but I feel their love for me and mine for them. It's intense, and wonderful. Because he wasn't born yet, RJ is the only one I didn't know about from before, but I feel close to my little brother, and he believes he can help me to remember with the help of this special cell structure our family has. He wants to try something with all of us to help me get my memory back."

Surprise and interest widened Iris's eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah."

The doctor's gaze left Carl's for a moment to settle on Rick and Michonne. "I had explained to Carl that the origin of his amnesia is unknown. It's obvious he's sustained a gunshot to the head, but he said he never suffered headaches and amazingly there are no signs of cognitive decline or brain trauma. The wound didn't kill him and neither did the bite, but they could be contributing factors to his amnesia, as well as what he has had to endure psychologically on top of the other unknown physical traumas he's had." Iris nibbled on her bottom lip. "Try something? The scientist in me is baffled by all of this and curious to know how and if this could work and what light his memories could shed about this condition, but I don't know if he should…"

"It won't hurt Carl," RJ said.

"Forgive me for this next question, and I preface this knowing that Carl has an amazing ability to recuperate, but you're just a little boy, how do you know it won't hurt him?"

RJ shrugged. "I just do."

"That's not exactly medically sound," she said, shades of uncertainty and concern filling her eyes.

"But it's enough for me," Carl said. "You don't have to worry, Iris. Whatever my family has, RJ has more of it, and he understands it better. I trust him, and I want to remember. He has seen where I was kept."

"What?"

"In his mind. He's seen it. Described it. He knows things, Iris. It'll be okay."

"If it makes you more comfortable, Dr. Bennett, you can stay," Rick said, hoping to assuage the doctor's concerns. "Junior, would that be okay?"

"Uh-huh." RJ nodded.

"It's Iris, Mr. Grimes, and…"

"Rick, please."

"Okay, Rick," she said softly, smiling. "I thank you for the offer, but I think maybe it's best I leave the room. I don't want my presence to interfere with this familial process. Something seems to be clicking already, and since Carl is game, I say keep doing it." She turned to Carl and covered his hand with hers. "I can stay close, out in the living room with Morgan and Grace, if you want?"

Carl nodded. "Sure."

The room grew deathly quiet as the two stared intently at each other.

Moments later, Iris blinked, freeing herself from the trance she'd fallen into. She cleared her throat. "All right, if you need anything, just yell and I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay." Carl smiled.

"Okay." Iris's cheeks flushed. "Okay." She nodded slightly and hustled over to the door, bumping into it slightly before exiting.

Andre broke out in applause. "Way to move fast, bro. That chick likes you a lot!" His eyes widened. "Does she have a sister?"

Carl had a beard, but Rick could tell he was blushing. "I don't know, Andre," he answered.

Michonne smiled. "She is lovely, Carl."

"Yeah." Carl said softly, sighing. "She's – she's just my doctor."

"Uh-huh," Rick, Michonne, Andre, and Judith murmured in unison, snickering.

"He likes her a lot, too," RJ announced, smiling broadly and invoking more giggles from the group.

"So, what's gonna happen to make me remember?" Carl asked, breaking up the laughs.

"We're going to use the gift of our cellular bond," RJ answered, when everyone had collected themselves. He dragged the bedside chair to the open space near the right corner of the room. "When we were flying over, the closer we got to you, the more of your energy I felt. I started feeling this power. Not superhuman strength like in Invincible, but knowledge. A lot started happening fast, but it was kinda in slow motion for me. Like a camera taking rapid pictures of ideas, truths, and possibilities and storing them in my head. I knew you couldn't remember, and then I knew how I could help you remember. That we could all do it together."

"Why is the chair there?" Michonne asked.

"For Carl." RJ walked over to the bed and pulled back the covers. "I know you're still a little weak, but it's mostly tiredness from your long sleep. I know you can do this."

Carl nodded. "Yeah, I feel okay." He tugged up the waistband of the slightly too large pajama bottoms and slid his sock-covered feet to the floor. Rick and Michonne rushed to either side of him when he attempted to stand. "Thank you both, but I'm good."

"We'll give you a hand," Rick said.

"Don't argue with us," Michonne added.

"Fine," Carl said, accepting their help with the short few steps to the chair and sitting. "Now what?"

RJ walked to Michonne. "Mom, you need to stand here," he said, ushering her to Carl's immediate right. "Dad, you stand across from Mom at Carl's left." He nodded as Rick moved into position. "A little closer."

"Here?" Rick said, taking a step right next to Carl's shoulder, feeling pride, shock, and a little tickled that the youngest person in the room was a little drill sergeant with instruction that everyone was following to the letter. RJ could say to do the Hokey Pokey and they would oblige.

"Yeah, right there."

"How about us?" asked Judith.

"You stand next to Mom, Judith, near Carl's right knee. Andre, you stand next to Dad, directly across from Judith."

The two moved to their assigned spots.

"What next?" asked Andre.

"Carl, bring your knees together, so they touch."

Nodding, Carl did as instructed and exhaled deeply. "And now?" he asked, tugging on the long T-shirt.

RJ walked around them. "Judith, you and Andre each need to touch Carl's knee closest to you and make sure your little fingers connect. Make a pinky-swear bridge between his knees." Andre nodded as they got into position. "Like that, yeah. Carl, you place one hand on Judith's and the other on Andre's. Okay. Now, Andre, you take Dad's hand, and, Judith, take Mom's. Now, Mom and Dad, take your hands and place them on Carl's back between his lower neck and shoulders."

Rick felt a strange jolt the moment his and Michonne's joined hands touched Carl.

"I feel str- strange," Carl stammered, his teeth gently chattering.

"Me, too," Rick and Michonne said as Judith and Andre echoed the sentiment.

"It's okay," said RJ, making his way to the back of the chair. "It's our connection."

"But you're not tou– touching me yet," Carl replied.

"I need you to do something first. I need all of you to do something. Mom and Dad, I need you to remember your last hours with Carl, your first meetings with him, and when you two first met. Judith, you go back to your last memories of Carl, making the hand prints and spending that time with him. Andre, I need you to remember your last earliest memory of Mom and when you met Dad. And, Carl, I need you to go back to that first memory you have. I need all of you to remember the smells, the sounds, how the air felt against your skin, how you felt in those moments. Anything you can recall, you need to close your eyes and bring the memories into focus. Close your eyes and remember." RJ placed one hand against Rick and Michonne's joined hands and the other atop Carl's head. Everyone gasped. "Remember."

The grips on hands tightened and a growing chorus of heavy breathing filled the room. Rick's body tingled and burned, yet it felt cold. Time seemed to cease. His feet were on the floor. He felt that. But he also saw it, like he was looking down on this moment, while remembering all the moments Junior requested and more. Meeting newborn Carl, losing him, holding Judith for the first time, meeting Michonne and Andre. Plethora of memories flew at him. Tears trailed down his cheeks. The pivotal moments of his life played like a quick-moving movie, providing explicit sensory and auditory detail. He was in all those places, all those times, yet right here.

Hovering above everything, Rick watched Michonne standing near Carl. Her body swayed ever so softly as she held fast to his and Judith's hand and tears slid down her cheeks. Both Andre and Judith were experiencing similar responses: tears and gentle swaying with an obvious tight grip on the hand each held. Their pinky fingers still connected.

Carl's body was taut and still, but his head alternated between gentle and jerky movements. Up and down and left to right, over and over. Junior, statue-still and wide-eyed, appeared to be in a trance.

Suddenly, Carl cried out. Rick's hovering self returned to his body, and the joined hands dropped with the release of sharp breaths. All closed eyes opened.

Tears streamed down Carl's cheek. "I remember," he said, as Iris and Morgan rushed into the room. "I remember."

A week passed in what felt like the speed of light. Michonne was feeling so many different emotions. She felt gratitude that Carl was with them, his memory intact, his weight picking up, and a perpetual smile on his face thanks to a pretty young doctor. There was appreciation to Morgan and Grace for being kind enough to let them stay with them until Carl knew what was next for him, and that RJ had found a fast friend in Little Mo. Then, there was the not so positive feelings of anger and betrayal. Those feelings that kept Michonne from sleeping or awakened her when she'd had managed to close her eyes for a few minutes.

During the hour-long recovery of Carl's memories, that only felt like a couple of minutes, RJ was able to get a bird's eye view of everything Carl had gone through from the moment he was left alone in the burnt-out church. Michonne had experienced something similar during the memory recovery, and had discovered that Rick, Andre, and Judith had as well. None of them had experienced Carl's memories like RJ, but they each had a strange aerial view of the memories being recalled. Floating above and seeing the process unfold. Being in the moment and a watcher of it. It was eerie and surreal for them, enlightening and painful for Carl, and overwhelming for RJ.

The moment after Carl announced he had remembered, RJ's little body had collapsed to the floor. Horrified, Rick and Michonne had rushed over as Iris tended to him. RJ quickly sat up, insisting he was fine. That he had experienced and felt so much that it knocked him off his feet. Iris confirmed his vitals were strong, and RJ had continued on like nothing had happened. Together, he and Carl had detailed the missing pieces of Carl's last ten years, and shared their friend Siddiq's surprising role in it.

"They'll help with the fever. They did for my mom and dad."

An expletive roared in Michonne's head at the recollection of Siddiq's words. The pills he had offered them to "help" Carl after his bite weren't antibiotics, but a drug created by a government-sanctioned group of about fifty rogue doctors and scientists who lived and studied in an underground compound of about one-hundred and twenty people in Washington, D.C. A couple of those doctors had been Siddiq's parents.

Eugene had lied, but the lie was an unknown fact. There were people in D.C. working on finding a cure by any means necessary. They wanted test subjects that had been bitten and given this drug to study its effects, believing it could be a cure. The drug, which contained a time-released paralytic, reduced fever and slowed the heart. Their belief, it would somehow alter the effects of the bite if given to someone with a pure heart and willingness to help their fellow man. That the person's goodness and the paralytic would somehow stop the reanimation process.

Carl confessed to helping Siddiq "free souls" by aiding him in killing a group of walkers they had encountered, and it was how he had got bitten. He said he knew better than to just go after a walker when it wasn't necessary, but what Siddiq had said had sounded humane in some crazy way. Because Carl chose to help, it meant he was willing to sacrifice himself. Once he was gone, his life could continue to be a sacrifice for others with participation in this barbaric study, and thereby save living souls. Siddiq could be a doctor to the group, and no one would know. A life for a life. His for Carl's. Each of them helping many in different ways.

From his initial meeting with Carl, Siddiq had been keeping in contact with his people. Doing his part in fulfilling his parents' dying wish to see their work continued in a meaningful way. He had found Carl to be someone pure of heart, willing to help a stranger, even against Rick's wishes. He saw that Carl had been bitten even before Carl had confessed, and he told his people where to be. When the Saviors invaded, the highly trained special forces and paramilitary members, put in place to the be the protection for the doctors and muscle as needed, snuck in with them. It was so much mayhem, no one had noticed the ten men come in. They stayed hidden, watching as Michonne and Rick moved Carl from the tunnels to the church.

They listened while the family shared tearful goodbyes and heard Carl announce he could save himself from turning. Determined to keep that from happening, a bullet to the head would make their experimental hopes moot, the group members sprang into action the moment after Rick placed the old burlap sack over Carl's head and he and Michonne walked out. They entered stealthily through the window, gave Carl a sedative, and ripped and bloodied the burlap sack over Carl's head to give the appearance of a gunshot wound. Finally, they fired a single shot through a hole in the floor near Carl's head and made a quick, undetected exit.

After the burial, and Rick and Michonne had returned to the house, the group had set fire to the gazebo as a distraction, and then went about unearthing Carl's body. By the time Rick and Michonne were scaling the junkyard mountain, Carl had been removed, the grave recovered, and they were halfway to the compound, unbeknownst that the drug wouldn't work, because Carl couldn't die.

Michonne sighed and slowly sat up in bed, trying not to rouse Rick but failing in her attempt.

"You okay," Rick asked, his voice gravelly from sleep as he pulled up beside her. "The sun's not quite up."

"I know, I was just thinking about everything. I'm sorry I woke you."

"Please. There's nothing better than waking up to you every morning." Rick kissed her shoulder and put his arm around her. "Did you get any sleep?"

"A little," she said.

"Don't beat yourself up, Michonne. You didn't do anything."

"I considered Siddiq a friend."

"So did I."

"He helped to deliver RJ and he took care of me when I was beaten and branded, but he also took Carl away. His presence in our lives was to find a person to use as a guinea pig, Rick. Carl was tortured and tormented after being in a coma for nearly two years. When he came to and tried to fight his way out, they shot him in the head." Tears burned Michonne's eyes. It broke her heart every time she thought of it. "He didn't make that choice. They did that to him."

"The worst part is that was just the beginning."

Carl surviving being buried alive and shot in the head had the scientist convinced that their drug had efficacy. A vicious cycle of torturous testing and punishing abuse to see just how much Carl could withstand defined his life for nine years. Weeks to months of painful recovery brought an agonizing respite, only for his torment to continue when his injuries healed. That had been Carl's life. Heartbreaking and inhumane. Siddiq facilitated that. Their doctor. Their friend. Like with Carol, Michonne now celebrated his death.

"I want to scream and kill when I think of what Carl endured until those tunnels collapsed a year ago and he was finally able to get free of those monsters. I can't believe Siddiq helped to make this happen."

"I guess he told himself it didn't matter. Carl had been bitten, so his death was imminent, and he thought his parents' research was a good thing. Hmph! My initial reaction to Siddiq was distrust, but after losing Carl, I just…" Sighing, Rick settled against the headboard. "My mercy prevails over my wrath." Rick grunted. "We were in D.C. when Carl was there. That's what kills me. Siddiq's ass was with us, and he never said a damn word! They dug Carl up and used him as a lab rat, and he was right beneath our feet. Hurting, afraid and wishing for a death that would never come. I was too merciful. I should've killed Siddiq way in the beginning instead of shooting above his head. None of this would've happened."

"Uh-uh, don't go there. Woulda, coulda, shoulda will drive you crazy, and we both know it's pointless. Look at what is. Siddiq is dead, and I feel secure in that he's experiencing some serious wrath, and we're all together. All of us. You and me, Carl, Andre, Judith, and RJ. A month ago, who would've thought that possible?"

"Junior, maybe." Rick chuckled.

Michonne couldn't help laughing with him. "You do have a point there." She kissed his cheek.

"Our son. When he collapsed, my heart stopped, but he shrugged it off and kept on going. He's been running around here with Mo like a speed demon. Our little RJ is something amazing. All he can do and all that's been put on him, and he's still a happy, comic-book reading little boy. He knows what he has, about this power to live and survive that we have, but it hasn't stopped him from being who he is, and it's -"

A hurried knock on the door halted Rick's words. RJ rushed into the room.

Rick and Michonne hastened to RJ's side, kneeling. Rick cupped his cheek. "Junior, what is it?"

"Dad, I have it!" RJ said, his breathing heavy, his eyes wide and bright.

"You have what?" Michonne questioned, stroking RJ's back to calm him and his racing heart.

"The answer, Mama. I think…I think I know why we're this way and how to keep people from turning."

~Thanks for reading!~

More to come!

Author's Note: I always found Siddiq suspicious. I know people loved him, but I never trusted him. Those pills and freeing souls... Come on! I am sure there are still more questions, and I hope the coming chapter answers all the more. If you find yourself asking "Is this possible?" Remember, this is a show about zombies. :) Yes, it's possible!