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— PART THREE  of  THREE —
REMEMBER ME HAPPY

– CARL SLEPT IN EMERSON'S ARMS FOR THE NEXT FEW NIGHTS. He found comfort in her arms, especially after finding out about the baby. He even named it.

Peanut was all Carl could ask about. It brought on a plethora of questions from the boy that neither Rick or Emerson really knew how to answer.

Both Rick and Emerson lied awake on this particular night. It had been days since either of them had truly spoken a word to one another.

While they knew what Shane and Lori were plotting, it didn't make them feel any less guilty.

Rick took the blame for Emerson's sin. He told the group that it was kill or be killed, and he wasn't going to have the woman he loved be killed.

Although, no one blamed either of them, killing someone changed you.

Emerson watched as Rick paced around the outside of the old cabin they were holed up in. She laid Carl down on the couch and grabbed a blanket to throw on top of him. Once she grabbed her own coat and blanket, she walked out of the house to meet Rick.

"You should be inside." He told her. Emerson sat down on the steps.

"You should be, too. It's fucking freezing out here." She told him as she offered up some of her blanket.

He shook his head and sat down beside her.

"Don't push Carl and me away." She told him quietly. "I-We both lost something that night and the fact that we're not talking about it bothers me."

"I don't want to talk about it. I killed my best friend for Christ's sake and you-you just killed my child."

"Excuse me?" She asked rhetorically, "I couldn't prevent that from happening. I didn't make Lori shoot me, I didn't intend to just fucking bleed out–"

"Emerson–"

"It's my turn." She told him. "I'm sorry that I lost the baby. I'm sorry that I killed Lori, but all I can do is move the hell on and get over it. It won't be easy, but we shouldn't have to go through this alone. We need each other, Rick. I-I love you."

Rick looked at Emerson. "I don't need you and I sure as hell don't want you."

Emerson gulped. She refused to let him see her cry.

"You can't show weakness, Emerson. Crying makes you weak." Her father scolded as took a sip of his beer. "Never, ever, show weakness. Ya hear me?"

"Yes sir. No weakness." She replied, wiping her eyes to leave no trace of tears.

Emerson shook her head of the memory with her father and huffed loudly. She wouldn't show weakness. Love made her weak.

Who had she become?

"So be it, Rick." She said finally before walking back inside the house.


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