Future Ghosts • TWD

39. Too Much to Lose.

Rosie was sitting on the top step of the steep, metal stairs when Rick and T-Dog returned with food. "Canned beef, canned corn, canned cans. There's a lot more where this came from," T-Dog announced as he carried two large boxes into the cell block.

"Any change?" Rick asked, referring to the state Hershel was in. Rosie was very worried about Hershel, but she knew it would be best if she stayed out of the way. That was why she sat herself on the stairs rather than right next to Hershel's cell; so she could hear what was happening while not getting in the way.

"Bleeding is under control and no fever, but his breath is labored and his pulse is way down and he hasn't opened his eyes yet," Lori explained, holding onto the cell door with blood-coated hands.

Seeing Carl and T-Dog start to unpack the food, Rosie went down the stairs to help. She was sure that there was more food in their hands in that moment than they ever had with them in the last 7 months. "Are these from the prisoners?" she asked, taking a bag from Carl's hands.

"Yeah, they were locked up in the cafeteria," T-Dog replied as he set a box down onto the cement flooring.

"They gave ya food? I thought Daryl said they were assholes," Rosie said, scrunching her face up a little.

"They didn't give it to us. We made a deal," T-Dog said.

"We're gonna help them clear out their own cell block, and then they'll be there and we'll be here," Rick explained from his spot next to Lori.

Lori didn't seem to like the idea, as she stood there with her hands on her hips. "Living beside each other?" she asked.

"I'm not giving up this prison," Rick said. He then started talking to Lori a bit more quietly, so Rosie stopped listening and focused more on helping T-Dog and Carl.

"Where's Daryl?" Rosie asked T-Dog as she glanced back at the door to the cellblock. Daryl wasn't out there and he wasn't in there with her either.

"With the prisoners. I gotta go back out there, too, to help them clear a cellblock," T-Dog explained. He gestured to all the boxes on the floor. "Can you two handle unpacking and organizing the rest of this?"

"Sure," Carl said.

"Yes sir," Rosie said. That was something that she couldn't quite get out of the habit of. Saying yes sir and yes ma'am was just so engraved into her brain that she couldn't shake it, even when Daryl told her that it was annoying or when Lori said she didn't like to be called ma'am because it made her feel like a drill sergeant. Rosie couldn't break the habit.

"Awesome. Thank you guys," T-Dog said, smiling a little before walking away with Rick.

The two kids worked together to unpack the rest of the boxes, but when Rosie went to start organizing them into piles, Carl got up and started to walk away. Rosie furrowed her eyebrows with confusion.

"Where're you goin'?" she asked.

Carl stopped and sighed, turning back around. He unclipped the set of keys his father gave him from his belt and dangled them in front of Rosie's face. "I'm going to the infirmary to get stuff to help Hershel. Take these keys. You're in charge of them now," he explained.

Hesitantly, Rosie took the set of keys from his hands. "I thought the others were goin' to the infirmary later," she said.

"Hershel needs the stuff now. So I have to go. You stay here and don't tell anyone unless I'm not back in an hour," Carl said. He started walking away again.

"I don't know how long an hour is!" Rosie called out to him.

"Just count to sixty, sixty times," Carl called back before leaving the cellblock. Rosie huffed and looked down at all the food she now had to organize on her own.