THICK SKULL , twd [ 1 ]

4. welcome to woodbury!

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         RICK AND THE OTHERS have disappeared again, something with those prisoners.

     Koa sits on the cement floor in front of Hershel's cell. There's been no change with the man and it makes her want to curl into a ball and roll away. The Greene sisters are just watching their father, that's all they can do.

Koa has no idea what Maggie told him, she doesn't know if it helped anything because the man looks even paler than before. They can hear every creak, every noise in the prison that bounces off the gray, dense walls.

    No one even dares to breathe too loud.

  Koa has a direct view into the cell so she immediately notices when Maggie furrows her brows, staring at her dad's gut in confusion. "Yo, what happened?" Koa pushes herself to her feet, rushing into the cell. If he's dead, he could easily reach out and kill any of them. That doesn't seem to matter to Koa as she gently moves Maggie away.

   "What's happening?" Beth is the next to question, standing next to her frantic sister. Koa narrows her eyes on the farmer. Her chest tightens. Hershel has stopped breathing.

   Koa gently grabs hold of Beth's wrist but the blonde wiggles out of her grip. She leans over her father's body, realizing what's happening.

Her father is dead.

At only 16, Beth Greene has lost her father.

    Koa's hand flies over her mouth, muffling the sob that tries to escape. "Do something!" Beth yells, desperate not to lose her father, "Somebody help! Somebody!" The young girl's cries shatter Koa but she's not gonna cry right now. She broke her promise to him. Hershel saved Carl—they couldn't fucking save him.

  At the sound of Beth's shrieks, Lori comes rushing in. Carl swallows, having no idea what to do. That's okay. He's not supposed to know.

Koa walks over to him, bringing his back against the front of her frame, an arm slung over his shoulders. Let him cry, he gets to cry right now.

    Beth and Maggie are sobbing, the reality of his death hitting them. Lori isn't giving up though. She begins CPR, blowing air into his lungs and listening for his heartbeat.

   This is a different grief from losing Uncle Shane. Hershel is a pure soul, someone that deserves to die of old age—not whatever the end of the world has in store for him. He's done nothing but welcome them into his home, sticking by them even after it was partially their fault he lost said home.