"Then, get off my back!" The anger towards his mother Carl had buried for months came bubbling to the surface. He stood red-cheeked, facing her.

"Carl!", Beth said, shocked, "She's your mother. You can't talk to her like that."

"Did you think for a minute what your daddy was going to say when he saw this?", Lori shook her head. Carl swallowed a knot in his throat. He'd thought maybe if he brought the supplies back, no one would ask where they came from. His dad wouldn't be too mad, would he? It wasn't fair. He was fine, he got the supplies, what was the damn problem?

"Why don't you go sit on your bunk until he gets back", Lori pointed a shaking finger towards the door. Carl stomped out of the cell, kicking the bars as he left.

"Carl Grimes!", Carl turned reluctantly crossing his arms and stood in front of his wide eyed mother, staring angrily at the ground. Lori grabbed the sulking teenager by the shirt.

"Now you listen to me Carl Grimes. I do not like this new attitude of yours, and I would very much suggest you change it before you talk to your Daddy, because when I tell him about the disrespect you have shown me today after you risked your life and lied about where you were going- You could have died, and no one would have known where to look!"

"Mom, they don't have to look. I'm fine." Carl pushed his mother's hand off of his shirt, "I can handle myself."

"Handle yourself with what?", Rick peeked into the doorway. Carl put his hands in his back pocket unconsciously. He looked at his mother. She crossed her arms.

"Tell him."

"I just- I got Hershel supplies to help out", Carl fought to keep eye contact under his father's questioning stare.

"Well good. That's good, son. Where'd you find 'em?"

"Umm- from the infirmary."

Carl took a step backwards as Rick stood up straight in the doorway.

"You went to the infirmary by yourself?"

"Yes sir, but I-"

"With Hershel laid up, barely breathing. He went with six other people. You decided to go out on your own to a part of the prison we haven't cleared yet?"

"He told us he was organizing the food." Lori chirped in, "And when I asked him about it, he told me to get off his back."

"Dad, I-", Rick cut off the boy's sentence, grabbing him by the arm and pushing him towards the exit. The man's face was a storm of anger as he led his son outside. Carl's stomach dropped. He'd taken this trip once before. Just behind the watch-tower, out of hearing distance, out of sight, and away from the zombies.

"Dad, please. I'm sorry."

"Okay, Carl", Rick took off his belt and wrapped it around his hand, "What are you sorry about?"

"That- that I yelled at Mom, and that I went on a run by myself."

"Went on a run? Carl, you listen to me. You want to be a man? Act like one", Rick shook Carl's arm hard, "What you did was not a run. Do you see Darryl sneaking off, lying about where he is, going off without telling anyone for a run? Or Glenn? Or me? Every time you put yourself in danger, you put everyone in this group in danger. Do you understand that?"

"But I got the medicine"

"That's not the point Carl. You want to go on a run, you ask me. You don't lie and sneak. That's not what a man does. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir."

"And as far as you yelling at your Mom", Rick lowered his face in front of Carl's, "That woman gave birth to you. She loves you more than anyone else in the world. If you knew how many times she's kept this right here from happening- You should be bringing her presents every day."

"But-"

"But nothing. Next time you wanna talk to your mother, or any grownup, the way you did today, I want you to think back. Think about my belt, you understand me?"

"Dad, please. I was just trying to help out."

"No you weren't, Carl. If you wanted to help, you would have helped out with the food like you said you were doing. Or waited until I came back and asked me to go on the supply run with you. You wanted to prove you could do it. You risked your life for what? For pride?"

Carl dug into the grass with the toe of his boot. He hated it when his Dad was right. Which was always. He'd just wanted to get out of the cells and show everyone he wasn't such a kid. The fact that he was going to come back puffy-eyed from a spanking was kind of ironic.

"I find a good deterrent for pride is a sore behind. Get those pants down."

Tears already in his eyes, Carl turned towards the watch tower and pulled down his pants and underwear. He leaned his face onto the cool stones and held his breath.

Whap! Carl squinted in pain as the belt landed just above his thighs. He let out the breath he was holding in a hiss.

Whap! Whap! Whap! "Mmmmph", Carl muffled a groan a balled his hands into fists.

"Is a pat on the back worth your life, Carl?"

Whap! Whap! Whap whap! Whap!

"Sssss. No, sir."

"Are you allowed to go to uncleared places without permission?"

Whap whap whap! Whap! Whap! Whap whap!

"Nooo. No sir."

"Do you tell your mother to get off your back?"

WHAP! WHAP WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!

"Owwww. I'm sorry, Dad."

"What was that?"

Whap! Whap! Whap!

"Oww. No sir. I won't - ahow- I won't do it again."

"Your mother and I love you too much to lose you son", Whap whap whap whap whap whap whap, "And if I have to tan your hide every day to keep you safe, I will. Do you understand me?"

WHAP! Whap! Whap whap! Whap.

"Yes sir- sss. Ow. Ssss. Agh. I understand, Dad. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Rick grabbed his son by the waist and placed a few more hard swats to his thighs. Carl bucked and pleaded, casting off his earlier stoicism. The boy didn't realize the spanking was over until Rick was sliding his belt back into it's loops.

"Pull up your pants and come on over here", Rick opened up his arms. Carl pulled up his pants, cringing and made his way over to his Dad's arms, relieved.

"That really hurt", he mumbled into his father's shirt.

"Yeah. You earned it today", he kissed the top of his son's head, pulling him in tight.

"I uh- I'm sorry, Dad"

"Hey, listen up. I'm proud of you. Proud of the man you're becoming. You went about it wrong, but you were coming from right."

"Thanks, Dad"

"Now, you and I are square, but I want you to go apologize to your Mom for how you talked to her."

"Yes sir."

"And Carl? We have to have this conversation again, you sneaking off, you won't sit comfortable for a week, you have my word. We clear?"

"Yes sir. It won't happen again, Dad. I'm sorry."

"Good man. Go on to your mom."