Andrew Dylan Harrison was six when the world ended. He is the younger brother to Andrea and Amy Harrison. He was living with them at the time when the world ended. Andrew is the youngest at the camp by four years and his illness doesn't help him...
"You told him that Maggie was dead." Carl repeats.
"Yeah." Rick nods. "Why?"
"Don't you think that he would tell Andrew that! That Maggie is dead! And she's not dead, she's grieving for her husband and the loss of her son that now thinks that she's dead!" Carl groans. "Why do you keep fucking everything up!?"
"Carl!" Rick scolds.
"First, you let them take Andrew away. Secondly, you didn't try to stop them. Then, you go and tell Negan that Maggie's dead and he'll and tell that to Andrew!" Carl was getting worked up and Tank nudged his side.
Carl's hand immediately finds itself locked into Tank's fur, stroking it.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Look at me. Talk to me. Do something." Sherry pleads as she wipes the blood from Andrew's face.
They were in the bathroom. Andrew sat half naked on the edge of a toilet seat and Sherry was crouched in front of him with a wet washcloth.
Andrew was silent, face blank and eyes empty as he goes over what he just did.
Sherry's hand brushes over the mark on his face and his hand shoots up, grabbing her wrist.
"Sorry." He whispers, realizing what he's done and lets her go.
Sherry couldn't believe that Negan made Andrew kill his parents.
Andrew's hands were stained red from the blood. It would be for a little while.
A tear slides down his cheek and Sherry cautiously reaches up to wipe it away.
"I..." Andrew mumbles. "I don't feel bad."
"That's okay." Sherry tries to assure him.
"No!" Andrew stands abruptly. "I don't feel bad! I know that I should feel bad but I don't feel bad and that makes me feel bad!"
"Andrew-" Sherry starts but Andrew won't let her finish.
"I killed my parents!" He grabs fistfuls of his hair. "And I don't feel bad!"
"Hey, shh. Shh. It's okay." Sherry gently grabs each one of his wrists to prevent him from yanking his hair out. "Look at me, sweetie. Look at me. That's it."
Andrew, heaving gulps of air, let his eyes flicker to look at Sherry.
"It'll be okay." She softly tugs his hands back to rest at his sides.
A sob escapes his mouth and his head falls as he starts to cry.
Sherry pulls him into her, wrapping her arms around him as he breaks down.
"Here." Amber enters the bathroom with a bottle of water. "He okay?"
"No." Sherry was appalled. "He just murdered two people. Of course he's not okay."
