"She was a wild one; always stomping on eggshells that everyone else tip-toed on."
Rick Grimes//OC book 1
Season 2 // 3
Started // December 2nd, 2019
Completed //
#11 in Rick Grimes as of 4/30/20
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IT HAD BEEN ONE MONTH since the death of Lori Grimes. Things had been difficult for the group, Hope was still unresponsive, they had the teen Randall locked in a barn with no clue of what to do with him, a baby who was low on formula, and the weight of grief on their shoulders. It was a rough patch but they were pushing through.
Rick had been quieter. Most of the group thought it was due to loosing Lori, and yes that did play a small part in the reason why he was acting different. But the main reason was because of Hope. Everyday he knew the chances of her waking up were lessening, Hershal said it could be any day. But he said that every month. Rick often thought about the day in the kitchen with her after they found Sophia in the barn. He had promised her that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. He broke that promise.
Carl had been doing better, he realized he didn't want his mother to have to suffer in this world. She decided to save the baby, even if that meant killing herself. Though the boy was still upset. Everything seemed to be falling apart and he didn't know how to cope.
Ryder and Skylin got worse. They didn't talk as much and Rick had to basically force them to eat. The poor kids just wanted their mother back.
The rest of the group was working together to get through the hard time. "Everything happens for a reason" they had to keep reminding themselves.
It was currently Monday and Daryl Dixon was beating the living shit out of Randall, the boy who they had kept in the barn for months on end.
Ignoring Randalls crying and grunting, Daryl sent three more blows to the kids face.
"I told you-" Randall started only to be interrupted by a pissed off Daryl "You told me shit!" He yelled as he slammed the younger boy into the wall.
"I barely knew those guys! I met 'em on the road" Randall panted as blood dripped down his face.
Daryl started to pace. "How many in your group?" He demand.
Randall didn't answer, only speaking when he noticed Daryl pull out his knife. "Uh, no no no no no no no no no. Come on man" he pleaded.
Daryl jumped forward and stabbed the knife into the ground right next to Randalls leg. "How many?!" He demanded once again.
Giving in Randall finally started to talk, "uh, thirty. Thirty guys" he hesitated as he spoke, as if he wearnt to sure of his answer.
"Where?" Daryl asked.
After a moment with no answer Daryl grabbed a hold of the boys bandage and ripped it off causing Randall to scream in pain.
"I don't know I swear!" He yelled through gritted teeth. "We were never any place more than a night!"
Placing his knife on the boys cut Daryl continued with his questions, "Scouting? Planning on staying local?"
