Fix You ! Cegan

XXVII

"You alright?" Rick finally asked, Carl's attention shooting back to him suddenly as he realized he had started to doze off again. Carl shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I just- I can't believe you're actually here."

Rick chuckled a little. "I know, I know. I'm shocked too."

"How's everyone back at home?" Carl asked hesitantly. Rick read that between the lines as mainly asking how Judith and Michonne were- the two he cared the most about, and who he was worried about the most.

"They're alright. They just miss you. Michonne brings you up just about every hour. Fretting about you like crazy." It had been the exact subject that Rick had been trying to avoid. Home brought up the touchy memories of the last time he'd seen his son- who at that point had essentially gone feral. He wasn't sure how it was possible, but Carl actually looked worse than when he had seen him just a few days before. The boy had always been lean- just like him- but he seemed impossibly small and frail sitting before him. And unlike last time he didn't have even a glimmer of fight left in his eyes. Rick would have thought this would serve as a relief because he was frankly tired of fighting his Carl, but instead it just unnerved him and made him feel like it wasn't his son he was talking to.

He'd lost Carl a few times before, only not so extreme- like at the prison, which seemed so long ago, when he'd shot that boy with Hershel. It hadn't been easy getting Carl back then, and they both fought each other every step of the way. But he did, and Carl came out so much better for it. In hindsight though he only knew that Carl for a second, because as was becoming usual, shit hit the fan not so long after and culminated with that awful, life shattering night with the claimers.

Maybe, Rick thought suddenly, looking at the shell of Carl that sat before him, you could only lose someone so many times though before they were gone for good.

"I really miss them too." He paused for a moment. "When you go home can you tell her I'm sorry about...about the last time I saw her." Carl said softly, in a voice that once again didn't seem like his own. It was hard for Rick to wrap his mind around the many sides of his son. How this Carl could be the same one that had wildy fired a warning shot at him just a few days before, his eyes desperate and just daring him to come closer. The sight that had pushed him to swallow his pride enough to call Negan of all people. But apparently Negan couldn't even handle Carl by himself either, and so here they were. Rick wasn't sure still if Carl was safer literally sleeping with the enemy or shooting at him beyond the wall.

Suddenly Rick couldn't put it off any longer. "Carl, what happened out there?"

Carl didn't say anything at first, just stared at the comforter and ran a loose thread through his fingers.

"I... I don't know, okay?" he said finally, not looking up. "My head is just so fucked up. I was just ...angry. I really fucked up. I'm sorry." he finished lamely, not meeting Rick's eyes. It was a cop out, but he didn't know what else to say, because he didn't really know what was going on with him, or why he had essentially had a complete mental meltdown out there.

Rick shook his head. "You don't have to be sorry. You just have to let me know what's going on. Cause right now Carl- I have literally no idea what you're thinking, or what you need. You out in the woods, you know what that reminded me of? Right after we left the prison. When we thought we lost Judith. I know you were angry with me then, and I know you're angry with me now. But you just keep slipping farther and farther away and I don't know where I keep going wrong. What drove you to him-"

Carl cut him off with a fierce glare.

"You know that I have a lot of things I can apologize for. But I'm not apologizing for being with Negan."