like real people do | c.g [#wattys2019]

E P I L O G U E

TWELVE.

Rick was usually an observant person. Years of work as a policeman tended to do that to you, making your senses ever-so-slightly sharper than they used to be. Especially with all of the world's rapid and dangerous changes, lack of awareness meant death at every corner. So, for Hershel of all people to manage to sneak up on him was simply indicative of how far in his own head the man truly was.

The head of the Greene family rose from his seat atop the white steps of his house's entrance and found his way next to Rick without the latter ever noticing his movements. Thankfully, he managed not to look too started when the older man started speaking, if not only for his dignity's sake.

"It's nice isn't it," He questioned in that soft way of his, meeting the younger father's gaze. "How calm they still are? It's a blessing, Rick, I'll tell you that. My girls, they're old enough to take it all in, all of this madness. But, them? Children adapt fast. They'll stay children regardless of the state of the world. I wish we could all do that." 

It took a minute for Rick to respond, blue eyes still on his son. By the tents that they'd set up on Hershel's property, Carl and Casey sat together, both crisscrossed with two books between them. She appeared to want to pay attention to hers, but even from where they stood, Rick could see Carl move and talk, disregarding any notions of reading. 

The girl always seemed to indulge him, Rick had noticed. She was quiet. Lori had worried, too quiet. But he didn't blame her. With a father like hers, a man hellbent on beating the end of the world even if it meant ending with it, he was surprised she was so functional, so collected. Too collected, he'd wonder himself.

She shut down a lot of emotional responses. Even in his own dazes after Carl was shot, in his worrying and crying, he'd noticed the look on her face. In those hours where they waited for Shane's return, the girl had shrunk into herself, a sense of stoicism in her eyes. She was preparing for the worst.

Carl talked about the advice she'd give him sometimes, or Rick or Lori would hear it themselves. It was too mature for a child. Almost from experience. And he wanted to believe it was impossible for a kid so young to know so much, but he'd met the man who raised her.

He'd seen the hesitance in her step when she stood around her father. The look in her eyes when she'd bolted from the table, and their vacancy as they'd driven away from what remained of the Center. He saw the bottles and the bags under Edwin Jenner's eyes, and he knew he was past saving. And for a twelve-year-old girl to make the choice she had, to leave it all behind, with the vehemence she'd had...

Rick had expected so, so much worse. A little quiet was just fine.

"It affects them more then they let on," He mumbled eventually. She was laughing now, at something his son had said, and Rick felt a bit of a twist in his chest.