Carl was your parents' favorite, that much was obvious. He was the baby of the family, the planned one; however, you had been born when your parents were in the middle of college.

You were a normal kid, you were around 5 when Carl was born. You had been excited for a brother, but the undivided attention for him upset and confused you. Your parents had stopped paying attention to you completely. As you grew up, you didn't have many friends, you kept to yourself, and seemed pretty different from an ideal child.

Carl was a golden child, he was outgoing and smart and friendly. Rick's little boy. You just weren't, you were constantly criticized, if anything.

When the apocalypse started, your mom catered to Carl even more, maybe it was because he was only 12. Or maybe that fact that for the first month of the apocalypse, you had all thought your dad was dead until he found you guys.

Then when your brother got shot, your group finding the farm, it was like whiplash. There was a girl your age now at least, Beth. Still, you did your own thing, not really talking to your constantly frantic parents, despite Hershel managing to save Carl.

You and your dad were sorting through the guns in the back of the pickup truck on the Greene farm, planning to go look for Sophia later. It was silent between you two, it felt like he barely knew you at times, only viewing you as the more problematic one of his two kids.

"I think Carl's gonna be alright," He said before chuckling to himself. "Gave him my sheriff's hat, he loves it."