LOVE is DEAD [RARL]

13

Carl watched the antacids dissolve in the cup of water that Rick had set before him.

"Drink that now, before you start really hurting."

Carl's head was pounding from his tumble already, and he sipped the water tentatively, eyes following his dad around the kitchen. No questions had been sprung yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Michonne sat across from him, clutching her mug tightly. She'd offered to leave them alone several times, but Rick had declined each and every time, claiming she was fine, that she was allowed to stay.

"We've got a lot to talk about," Rick said, finally sitting at the table after pacing for so long.

"Dad," Carl rasped, but Rick interrupted.

"No, listen. For starters, sneaking out. I don't want you doing it anymore. Just TELL me when you're leaving so I at least know where you are, rather than you disobeying and leaving me without a clue. Second," He took a deep breath. ", Ron Anderson." Carl looked away. He was pale and his hands were shaking.

"Is he that 'Rose' girl?"

Carl swallowed thickly; he felt as thought his mouth was stuffed with cotton. The sitting around the table, the adults staring him down, it was making his so nervous. He felt like he was being interrogated, under a new form of scrutiny, and he wasn't even sober enough to deal with it.

"Or was that whole... thing... just because you were drunk?"

Carl willed himself to speak, to answer his dad's question, but the only noise that escaped him was a cracked, broken whimper. Hot tears stung his eyes and he blinked them back, focusing on his cup of water instead.

"Rick," Michonne began, but Rick wasn't having it.

"I just need answers, Carl. Are you sure about what you are getting into? Are you positive you are making the right choices?"

The meaning behind the words stung, but rang true. Ron was going to be father. Why was he at that party, getting shit faced? Why had Carl even encouraged him to come inside, to fuck right in the doorway? It was careless, and dangerous, but he'd loved it, despite his feelings about his relationship with Ron.

"No," he croaked out.

"No what?" Rick blinked at him, blue eyes wide with confusion and concern for his only son.

"No, it wasn't just because we were drunk."

Rick leaned back in his chair, nodding slightly in thought before voicing his next question. "Rose isn't real?"

Carl shook his head.

Rick nodded again, "Why lie to me about that, Carl? Even if you didn't tell me about Ron, why lie about a whole other person?"

"I don't know," Carl whispered honestly, unable to make eye contact with his own father. "I just, I thought maybe it'd make you proud, or something."

The three sat in silence for what felt like forever, until Michonne suggested Carl go to bed, and sleep the alcohol off. Rick agreed, and Carl was allowed to stagger up the stairs and to his bedroom, with the help of his father, who walked behind him to make sure he didn't fall. After Carl made it to his bed, Rick pulled the covers up to his neck, to make sure he was warm.

"I AM proud of you, Carl... Goodnight," He said just before he left the bedroom, letting his son drift off the sleep.