Future Ghosts • TWD

141. Talk About It.

Rosie was sitting outside by herself. She sat on the steps that Negan had once led her up, dangling her legs over the side and leaning her arms on the railing. She was out there in the cold, despite the numbness of her toes. And all for what? For a cigarette? God, she felt like a piece of shit. She had almost smoked the whole thing already. She just kept telling herself it's fine, it doesn't matter, at least I gave the rest to Daryl. But deep down, she knew it was wrong.

The door behind Rosie creaked open and she quickly put out the cigarette against the pavement.

"Rosie?" Lydia said, stepping closer to her. Rosie stood up, dropping the cigarette into the snow beneath her feet. Lydia's eyebrows were furrowed. She thought back to when she was in that cell at Hilltop. Daryl had come in and thrown a pack of cigarettes onto the ground before dragging Rosie off to yell at her. The next day, Rosie came down and told her about it. "I thought you said you weren't gonna smoke again," Lydia murmured.

Fuck, was all Rosie was thinking. She didn't think Lydia saw that.

"You said it was bad for your anxiety," Lydia reminded her.

Shoving her hands into her pockets, Rosie huffed out a sigh. "Well, yeah, if I do it a lot. But this is just one. It doesn't matter," she said, avoiding eye contact.

"Uh, ok," Lydia muttered, unsure of what to do. Part of her felt like she should tell Daryl, but the other said that Rosie would hate her guts if she did that. "I was supposed to come out here to get you. Daryl wants to talk to you. We're leaving soon," she said.

"Ok," Rosie said, nodding her head. She held the door open for Lydia before following her inside. Lydia pointed her in the direction of Daryl before heading off towards what was left of the small fires that had been burning to keep them warm. "Lydia said you were lookin' for me," Rosie said once she got to Daryl.

Daryl looked over the girl, taking in her red cheeks and nose. "Were you outside?" he asked her, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Yeah. Couldn't breathe," Rosie said quietly, partially lying. She had gone outside to smoke that cigarette because she was overwhelmed, yes, but she didn't just go outside to breathe. But Rosie had gotten used to lying now. It didn't feel so incredibly difficult anymore. All she ever did was lie.

Whatcha thinkin' 'bout? Daryl would always ask her whenever she went quiet. And almost by reflex, Rosie would come up with some lie. But what she was thinking about was almost always the same. That barn. The screaming. The crying. The blood.

"You good now?" Daryl asked.

He'd been extra concerned about her. He couldn't help it. It was obvious that bad things were going on inside of that brain of hers, but he didn't know how to stop it. When she was little, it was easier. He could go out and find her a new toy, or say something about dinosaurs, or ask her to draw him a picture. But she didn't seem to like anything as much as she used to.

"I'm fine," Rosie said, nodding her head.

"Good. We gotta get goin' here soon," Daryl told her. He didn't like what they were going to have to do, but they didn't really have any other option but to do it. Not unless they all wanted to freeze and get hypothermia. "We're gonna have to cross the lake," he said.

"That's Alpha's land," Rosie murmured, furrowing her eyebrows. Lydia had said that they were talking about cutting through it, but Rosie didn't think they'd actually follow through. Saying Alpha's name made her feel sick. She began staring past him, out the broken windows, and into the snow outside.

"I know. That's why you're gon- hey," Daryl stopped and tapped her arm, "you listenin' to me?"

Rosie nodded, blinking back the thoughts in her head. "I'm listenin'," she said.