𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 │ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍 ²

veertien.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
     𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠

⠀It was a quiet morning.

⠀It seemed that the majority of us had agreed to just be... silent. The strain and grief from yesterday were slowly spilling its way still. It crept up our backs and played in our hair. It made the ones on the back of my neck stand on end.

⠀As I surveyed the room, no one looked back. All purposefully focusing on their breakfast, which was a measly portion of cold oatmeal. But we'd found some café sugar packets, which pleased Carl as he wanted a sweeter taste.

⠀In my case, I didn't think I could even stomach what was in front of me. As I looked over to Oscar, as the sounds of his spoon scraping the bowl echoed among the silence.

⠀Whirling my tongue around my mouth, I debated whether I should give my food to someone who would appreciate it more. After being so desperate for it months ago, I didn't know what to do with it once I had it.

⠀Slouching in the dilapidated, wooden armchair, I brought the bowl closer to my mouth as a way to tempt me.

⠀It still resembled vomit.

⠀Rick Grimes emerged into the light, looking better than the last time I saw him. Last night he had peaked into the cellblock from the other side of that gate, and I couldn't sleep.

⠀He looked like a caged, feral animal, looking to see if he could escape. And he had the definite means to but remained in the shadows as he pursued back to whence he came.

⠀This moment, he was standing more straight— which was enough to say his head had cleared up. If only even a small portion. It seemed everyone was astonished, as we clearly had no opening line towards him.

⠀"Everybody okay?" I could tell by his eyes, he didn't, deep down, mean it.

⠀Nobody was prepared to answer, because I would answer 'no'. We're not okay. We never were when we were dismembered. Carol and Harvey were presumed dead. The only two people really prepared for a baby were lost in the tombs, somewhere. Either being consumed by walkers or the isolation.

⠀I lied. "Yeah," I slowly placed my bowl on the chair as I stood my ground towards him. "We're okay."

⠀He nodded quickly, never looking one of us in the eye. He appeared uncomfortable as if he'd forced the man he was now to check on us, rather than coming willingly.

⠀Hershel shifted to get a better look at the man. "What about you?"

⠀"I cleared out the boiler block." All by himself. My eyes widened. Since he had been around me, and he had spoken merciless words, I didn't doubt his ability to be ravenous, and violent... it just wasn't what I wanted for him. I knew how it felt — to stab and slash your way through grief, and strife. To want nothing, but to see hurt in someone else's eyes but your own.

⠀I knew how he felt.

⠀Rick's eyes stayed a fair distance away from the most of us. He didn't even brief a glance to his son, or daughter. But he did place a shaky palm on Carl's shoulder, patting it slowly as the young boy bit his lips, sensing his father's distress.

⠀"I have to get back. Just wanted to check on Carl."

⠀I furthered to his view, taking calculated steps. "How many were there?" I enquired.

⠀"I don't know."

⠀Glenn interjected. "We can help you clear out the bodies." He stepped up, away from the table as he waved a hand to our leader. He wanted to reach out to him but was replied to with an ill-confident snarl.

⠀"No, I do." Rick made it final. He didn't want help. He stepped between his feet, itching to get back. Until he strode his way over towards me, towering with his height and seeping aggression. I squared my shoulders, feeling an oncoming confrontation. But was met with nothing but questions. He was in the space between Daryl and I. "Everyone got a gun and a knife?"

⠀I looked over to the other man, as I didn't entirely know the answer. My weapons were steadily placed at the end of my bunk, and Daryl's old knife was kept tucked in one of my belt loops. Ever so often it would dig into my thigh, reminding me it was there and ready to be used.

⠀Daryl stayed still, a nervous, unsure stare towards his friend. He quickly masked it, as if Rick was the same person as before. "Yeah," he hovered his eyes over all of us. "We're runnin' low on ammo though."

⠀"Maggie and me were planning on making a run this afternoon," Glenn joined in once again, making Rick tilt his head towards him. "Found a phone book with some places we can hit, look for bullets and formula."

⠀The only important word to Rick there seemed to be 'bullets.' Not 'formula'. It hadn't crossed his mind.

⠀I watched Maggie nod from a distance, looking past the shadow of Rick but then keeping a closer eye on his movements. Sudden ones made me jump, but slow ones like his right now made me nervous. I knew he meant no harm. But it wasn't really real for him right now.

⠀There wasn't a heartbreak, only strife that he had to wade through. It's a long mile that isn't blue like people would normally associate with sadness. It's a long mile of weak piss yellow.

⠀My eyes jumped to Daryl as he began to speak. "We cleared out the generator room." One I had yet to be in. "Axel's in there now trying to fix it in case of emergency." A little too late. "We're gonna sweep out the lower levels as well."

⠀I hovered my arm next to Rick's, knowing that human contact wasn't needed. I swallowed thickly before adding my piece. "Harvey and Carol are still somewhere. Hopefully, we'll find them."

⠀Rick nodded his head feverishly. "Good. Good."

⠀He retreated from us rather quickly, forcing his steps heavily, letting his heels click loudly on the concrete below. His departure caused my body to strode after him. Trying to match his pace was no used, as just when I called out his name, desperate to help him cure this sickness, he closed to barred door on me.

⠀"Leave him," Hershel commented, all of them still looking at where he once was.

⠀"He shouldn't be left alone." I kept my eyes on the other side of the gate, and the barrier our leader had clearly set between him and I. "We don't know what he's going to do."

⠀"Trust him to come through."

⠀"I don't," I looked over my shoulder to the old man I had seemingly saved. "He could hurt himself or worse."

⠀Glenn came up beside me. He placed a kind hand on my shoulder, signalling me to turn around so I could have a more direct conversation with them. He held his voice above a whisper. "It's clear he just wants to be left alone. If we change that, then yes he could do worse."

⠀I didn't hold the same volume, confidently crying out to the crowd. "He shouldn't be left alone even if that's what he wants." My hands curled into fists, as I held them over the handle to the gate. "We've lost Lori and T-Dog; Harvey and Carol are out there dying!" My words elevated to a desperate yell. "We can't help them, but we can help him."

⠀"Marley," Daryl stood, abandoning his disposition to the topic of a grieving Rick Grimes. "Think about this."

⠀"I am."

⠀"Then what are you gonna do?"

⠀I held in a breath, not really sure of how to explain it. "I'm gonna try... and help Rick. Somehow."