You were by Carl's side as he recovered from the gunshot, when he couldn't even sit up. When he shouted at you to leave, not to look at him. Not to look at how horrible he is now. You have always thought nothing but the best of him, a wound wouldn't change that anytime soon. You slept in a chair next to his bed in the infirmary, risking a sore body the next day, but it didn't matter as long as you could see him.