"Shit." Carl's eyes had popped open at the sound of Judith's low whimpers across the room, meaning she was awake for the day, and ready to be released from her crib. She was like clockwork, every day, right around dawn, raring to go. And usually, he didn't mind, because Rick would get to her before long, or he would take care of her himself, if need be. But now, he was incapacitated, and after a few minutes of waiting, and then calling out for assistance, it had become increasingly clear that they were on their own. His dad was gone, and whoever had the baby monitor was obviously not monitoring anything.
Carl slowly and carefully climbed out of bed, holding his chest as he padded towards his sister. "I'll be right back," he promised in a whisper, as if she would understand his words. He wished he could explain why he couldn't pick her up, why he was leaving, but he knew his words would be futile, so his promise would have to do.
As he crept into the hallway, he took note of the open bathroom door and checked that off of the small list of places his dad could be. He was hesitant to venture down the steps in his condition, and he didn't want to wake anyone by calling out, so he figured his next best option was to check with Michonne. Even if she didn't know where his dad was, she could at least take Judith.
He shuffled to the room next door to his and knocked lightly, before calling her name, equally as delicately. "Michonne?" He waited a full minute for an answer before knocking again, harsher than the first time. "Michonne?"
No answer.
It was almost seven, so it was just as possible that she was still asleep as it was for her to already be up and downstairs somewhere. "Where the hell is everyone?" Carl wondered out loud. He decided to quickly push Michonne's door open, just to confirm that she was gone, but instead, ended up with much more information than he ever bargained for.
His eyes darted around the dim room, trying to make sense of the fact that Michonne's bedspread was on the floor, her gray tank top crumpled in the middle of it. He had noticed the bed was occupied, and he probably should've just closed the door then, but his gaze caught his father's boxers a few inches away from Michonne's shirt, and realization began to slowly strike him. He couldn't stop himself from peering back at the bed, where he finally grasped that Michonne was asleep on his dad's chest, and just a thin sheet was halfway covering their obviously bare bodies. Carl's face immediately contorted into disgust as he turned out of the room, trying not to gag. "Gross," he muttered, hobbling back down the hall towards Carol's.
He knocked on her door hard, while his brain tried to expel the image he'd just seen. He could remember catching his mom and dad in a similar position one time, when they'd forgotten to lock the doors, and he woke them up in that instance, wanting to know what they were up to. Of course, that was before he ever knew what sex was, and they could shrug him off fairly easily. Now, the thought of his dad and Michonne doing… that was nauseating. He wasn't sure what he would do if Carol opened her door and Daryl was somehow in her bed, too. He might have to just run away from home at that point.
He let out a sigh of relief when Carol came to the door fully dressed, with a notebook in her hand, as if she were already on her way out the door. She immediately frowned at the sight of Carl, and gazed into the hallway behind him. "What are you doing out of bed?" she demanded.
He rolled his eyes at the details that would ensue if he had to go into explaining it all. "Judy's up, and I can't do anything with her, so... can you get her?"
"Well where's your father?"
"He's busy."
Carol eyed him suspiciously as she opened up her notebook, fairly positive that Rick was free for most of the morning, and certainly at that time. "Busy doing what?"
