(( Notes: I just want to say that it makes me so happy knowing lots of people love Hedley just as much as I do :3 Thank you so much for all the comments <3 ))) 

((PS - This chapter is short :())

Carl was in the room he shared with Hedley.

Their bed was a mattress and a pile of blankets on the floor - Hedley loved sleeping on the floor and once Carl tried to get him to sleep in an actual bed... that was the worst nights sleep he'd ever gotten. Hedley tossed and turned, uncomfortable, long legs accidentally hitting him all hours during the night. As soon as they went back into their bed on the floor, Hedley went right to sleep.

The room was filled with trinkets and drawings. Most of the drawings were made by Judith, all throughout different stages of her life. Some were things you could tell what they were. Animals, buildings, people. Others were just scribbles from the early years.

Hedley loved collecting. Nothing of value. Just things he found whenever out and about or hunting. A bone, an antler, a skull, a feather, a rock.... They were scattered all around the place.

Carl liked books. Comic books. His own collection was on a shelf, filled and bursting.

Carl walked around the room, touching the things Hedley loved. A memory associated with each one.

This reminded him when Hedley was taken by Negan. The same pit in his stomach, the same dread filled in his heart. But this time was different. It was worse.

He felt so lost without him.

A hug from Hedley could cure any unhappiness that rested in him.

A kiss could move mountains.

A touch made this world better.

Tears came back and when his gaze found a photograph pinned to the wall, he let them fall.

The photograph was of a polaroid. Small but glossy.

((Notes: I drew this myself ^^^ ))) 

It was recent. A few weeks old.

Hedley had his arms wrapped around Carl, smiling so big that his eyes squinted. God, Carl loved that smile. There were words underneath the photo, written in his own handwriting. 'Carl & Hedley. Home is a person, not a building'.

Carl took the photo from the wall, cradling it in his hands. He carefully stroked the photo with his thumb, sniffling. 

He missed his home.

A knock on the door startled him.

"Y-Yeah?"

Michonne entered, a sad smile on her lips. "Hey."

That was it. That's all it took for him to crumble. He burst into sobs.

"M-Mom."

Michonne caught him when he collapsed. She held him tight as he cried, rubbing his back and cradling his head. "Shh." She soothed, "It's going to be okay."

"What if he's dead?" He whimpered.

"Come on, now. He's a Dixon. He's tough as hell and I just know he'll do anything to come home to you."

Carl buried his head into his mother's neck and wept, keeping hold of the photograph within his hand.

****

Sometime later, Daryl and Lydia made it back home.

Luke, Yumiko, Kelly, Carl and Judith waited on the steps of the main building.

"Any sign of them?" Yumiko asked desperately.

"We didn't get that far." Daryl answered.

Carl stood with Judith at his side. She had a hand in his, her cheeks puffy with tears. Carl didn't look much better, "What do you mean? What happened?"

"We gotta talk."

"D, I'm sorry." Luke said, "We gotta find our people, man."

"No. You can't go out there." Lydia said, "My mother's coming."