Future Ghosts • TWD

67. People.

After zipping up the backpack full of cans and snacks, Daryl went back through the living room, down the hall, and to Rosie's bedroom again. She was standing on her mattress, pulling off the pictures that were taped up on the wall.

"Ro, you ready to go?" Daryl asked, stopping in the doorway. Rosie looked back at him and almost nodded, but then stopped.

"I got somethin' in the closet that I can't reach," Rosie said, getting off of the bed and going over to the closet. Daryl followed and she pointed up to the shelf, which was out of her reach. "There's a book up there. Used to read it lots when I was little. It can be Judith's now," Rosie said, stepping out of the way so Daryl could reach the book. He pulled it off the shelf and saw that it was a purple hardcover book titled The Adventures of Harold and the Purple Crayon. Rosie took the book and stared at it for a moment before putting it in her backpack. "Fraser said my momma used to read him a story from this book every night."

"He ever read it to you?" Daryl asked, starting towards the doorway. Rosie followed.

"Maybe. I don't remember that much," Rosie said, chewing on her lip. The two of them walked down the hallway, glancing over each room they passed once more, just in case they missed anything useful, until they met Rick at the door. He had a big backpack on his back, stuffed with all sorts of things, and he was carrying one of the storage containers from the basement.

"Sure you got everything you want?" Rick asked, his eyebrows raised a little. Rosie looked at her shoes for a moment, thinking. Clothes, hat, Jessie, Lucy, Bear, book, pictures, hoodie.... She nodded and Daryl opened the front door, holding it there for Rick to walk through with his hands full. Rosie was about to follow right after him, but Daryl held his hand out, stopping her.

"Hold up a sec," Daryl said, so Rosie did. He chewed his thumb for a moment. "I was talkin' to Carol and she was tellin' me that I gotta let myself feel it. She was right. Same goes for you," he said. Rosie didn't say anything, but nodded slightly. "I was tellin' you it didn't matter, but it did. And I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Rosie told him.

"Still was a shitty thing to say. I've been bein' shitty for awhile."

"You were sad," Rosie reasoned, tugging on the straps of her backpack.

"Don't matter. You're my responsibility and that doesn't jus' change whenever somethin' bad happens. Can't jus' push you away like that, or else nothin's ever gonna get any better," Daryl told her. Rosie was his responsibility. She had never really thought about that before, but it made sense. He took care of her. "So next time I'm bein' shitty, call me out on it."

"What if ya get mad?" Rosie asked. She hated when people got mad at her. It made her stomach hurt, so she always tried to avoid it. But sometimes she seemed to piss people off without meaning to, anyway.

"I won't. Not for that. You're a kid and you need someone lookin' out for you. And I've been bad at that since we left the church. That hurts the both of us, so call me out on that shit. Ya hear?" Daryl asked, shutting the door and starting to walk down the front steps.

"Yes, sir," Rosie said, following after him.

"Quit callin' me sir."

"Yes, Daryl."

Rosie climbed into the back seat, next to Rick and Daryl's full backpacks. Rick got into the passenger seat this time, and was Daryl's turn to drive. Rosie held her backpack in her lap and pulled out the picture of her and Fraser. She looked at it for a few moments. It had been awhile since she'd seen or heard Fraser or her dad when they weren't really there. She wondered why that was. Maybe it was because she found new people now, but she wasn't really sure. Either way, she thought that it was probably a good thing.