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( chapter two ! ) - 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐱
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When she arrived back at the farm, Robin ran into Rick.
He had just finished a conversation with Hershel on the front porch, and after being left alone by the elderly vet, Rick wanted to go inside to sit by his son's side. But then he caught sight of Robin rushing out of the woods with her hands clenched into fists. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she was fuming.
But from where Rick stood, he couldn't see that—all he saw was a young woman coming out of the woods with an arrow-filled quiver on her back and an archer glove on her right hand. She didn't have a bow with her, but he still thought that she might have gone out into the woods to hunt. And if he was right, Robin could be very helpful to him.
"Hey," he said when he slowly walked toward her, lifting his hand in a slight wave. "Robin, right?"
At the sound of her name, Robin stopped shortly. She followed the voice until her eyes found Rick, who was smiling a little. She hadn't really spoken with him yet, so she didn't know how to assess him yet—therefore, she had to be careful around him until she knew more about him.
At that thought, Robin realized that even she herself hated how calculating her mind forced her to be sometimes. This man had just almost lost his son, and her family had helped him survive. It was very unlikely for him to want to harm her. Still, she couldn't help it.
Rick stopped a few feet away from her. He prepped his hands against his hips and kept holding on to the smile on his face. He tried to hold eye contact with the woman across from him, but she made it difficult.
"We haven't officially met—I'm Rick," he said, though it was ridiculous of him to introduce himself to with his name when that was the thing she definitely already knew about him.
Robin nodded. "Rick Grimes—that's your son in there that got shot."
"And it's your father who saved him," Rick said.
Her chest tightened. "No, he's not," she murmured, forcing herself to smile a little to not let it show just how much saying that hurt her.
She didn't have a father. She didn't have a mother. She had never had parents. All she used to have was gene donors—two people who had given her life even though they wanted it as little as she did. Two people who had given her a last name and nothing more.
