The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

ninetyseven.

Three days later.

I'm leaning against the doorframe, observing the twins snore the night away. Since returning to Hilltop, I've holed up away from everyone and their mundane problems. I'm not in the mood to deal with small problems when we got bigger issues that might be knocking down our gate any time now.

How the hell could I lose control of the monster, again? She stirred and tempted Michonne to cut me down from where I stood. I'm starting to realize she only comes out when I feel like I'm backed into a corner, unable to control the circumstances of my situation. It's almost like she was a piece of me that was born to protect me. Memories of Kelly coming to my aid while I was being held against my will fly to the forefront of my mind; was it the monster calling forth an image of someone I felt so safe with most of my life?

How the fuck could Michonne even for a second consider I'd run around with a group of feral fucking animals? I thought she'd know me better, but I guess not. I understand someone close to her betrayed her, but I was dead for so long because I wasn't able to play nice; because I was angry and didn't trust myself not to fly off the handle. My family had to deal with the hardest part of it already, making sure I came out of the other side with most of my sanity intact. I used the time to cool down and attempt to become somewhat normal. I understand that a part of me everyone knew is truly dead and gone, but I still hold the same morals. Like not wearing the skin of the dead and masquerading in a glorified wolf pack. I'd rather cut my eyes out with a rusty spoon. Survival or not, I'm not that desperate.

Familiar footsteps fill the air, without looking at the person who came to join me. I chew on my lip, allowing us to stand in silence for a few moments. I shift uncomfortably, "why can't I mourn her? Why the hell can't I cry?" I quietly inquire.

"The world we live in now is completely fucked up. Loss is so common anymore, there's just too much. You're exhausted, but you know, you have to keep going, for her, for us, for the babies... for you." Wren clears her throat, "I miss them, too, you know. Now it's just us from our childhood. But there's a whole community waiting for you to step up and say something or do anything. They need you, Ness." I need you hangs on the air between us. I know what she means without needing to utter it.

I face my red haired friend head on, sighing, "Michonne blames me for the skins," I admit. "How many more follow her line of thought?"

She shrugs, "that's on her and them, if they don't like it, they can relocate to Alexandria, or somewhere else far away." She smirks, brown eyes sparkling through the glasses the sit on her beautiful face, "let them risk it on their own, instead of being under one bad ass, fearless woman. Sorry leader. James and I know where you've been. You wouldn't be caught dead with those people. If anyone doesn't understand the call you made to protect yourself and them, then they just don't care. It's not worth your time or energy worrying about."

I match her smile with one of my own, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. She rests her head against mine. "I miss them, too, Wren."

"They'd be proud. I know I am. If you would've told me a decade ago that meek little Nessa was going to be the biggest threat to anyone and walkers alike in the Apocalypse, that ends up leading a community of her own, I would've thought they need a straight jacket to match their insanity." She pauses, watching the twins sleep. "You know while you were gone, I found alcohol. Tonight, we celebrate their lives - Jordan, Kelly, Tori, and Charlee. Tomorrow, you come out of your hole, and start your role as leader, got it?"

I chuckle, nodding, "stand in leader until Maggie returns, but you got it."