Eight months...
Approximately eight months have elapsed since the farm was raided.
They didn't have a secure place to stay the night, therefore it wasn't the best time of their lives. They had to shift places frequently out of concern that another horde could approach them.
They all prospered more readily and more powerfully together. They all learned to forgive one another, so their relationships were unbreakable.
"Scavenge every scrap of that house, and keep a watch out for any walkers." Rick, their leader, led them inside. They discovered additional weapons, ammunition, and various gun attachments during this time. This was useful, especially the gun silencer modifications.
Being a fair leader, he was the one who booted the door open. The man has the qualities of being a promising foreman, and therefore he always was in front.
Rick wasn't the same as he was pre-apocalypse. There wasn't a goofy man anymore, no more ridiculous dad jokes that ironically had her rolling on the floor. Grimes truly held his role as a leader, putting everyone before himself.
This is where (Y/n) takes place, guaranteeing that he does pay awareness to himself. It did work, Rick was sane merely because of her. He didn't shove past his limits due to the scolding he constantly received from (Y/n).
"(Y/n), take the one on the left, I got the right one." T-Dog tightly grasped the pointy metal in his arm, penetrating it straight into the walker's head. (Y/n) dug both of her blades into the undead's eyes, having it part from the back of his head.
While she was straddling the walker who was on the floor, she attempted to yank the knives from his front cranium. It required some stamina, and hers was running low.
"Are you okay?" Daryl walked up to her, analyzing how she toiled but ultimately got the combat knives out.
"I'm fine." (Y/n) beamed reassuringly at the man, not desiring to inform him about the truth. The lady has been sharing every meal with Lori. Lori was eight months pregnant, and (Y/n) couldn't stand the idea of a woman who was expecting a baby starving.
(Y/n)'s portions got less and less. She made that choice, and Lori always assumed that (Y/n) was full. After all, the expectant lady forgot the sensation of consuming for one.
Daryl didn't believe a single word, but it wasn't time to play the detective position. They were in a foreign region, and with them is a kid whom they should keep safe.
"Clear the area, we need to make this house as safe as possible." Rick didn't see any effort from them, coldly addressing that to get the job done faster. Daryl kept his visions on (Y/n) until he entered another room to scour for any walkers or food.
(Y/n) stroked her temples, sensing tension form on her forehead. It indeed was a dreadful feeling, month after month, her immune system only exacerbated. The lady would get ill quite a lot, but would rather conceal it.
Sensing something against her lips, (Y/n) proceeded to open her eyes. Rick was squatting next to her with a bottle of water patiently held in front of her lips.
"You're too pale... I didn't peer at you this close for a while." Rick figured out something was awry, so he offered his water. (Y/n) slowly shook her head, not obtaining his request even though her throat was as arid as the desert.
Not accepting no as a solution, the man gently clasped her face with one hand, compressing her cheeks to get her mouth to open. (Y/n) couldn't help but crack up at this silly situation, which perplexed Rick.
"You used to do this to Carl as an infant when he didn't accept the food being fed to him." (Y/n) coated her face with both hands to control her laughter.
