❝𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄- 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬❞

prison; three

Two weeks had passed, I'd wake up, I'd eat. I'd even begun to help out with the fence, I'd gotten incredibly good at killing walkers. I supposed my strength had come back and it impressed a few in the group. Maggie had made a few comments to me about how toned I'd become and I'd laugh with her, both of us knowing that wasn't by choice.

Daryl had opened up a bit more, although it was next to impossible to ever understand what he was thinking. He was quiet but I could tell he was opening up when he'd give me a piece of whatever animal he'd caught from out in the woods.

"Thank you," I would offer sincerely.

"Ain't no big deal," He'd replied but I'd smile gently. I knew it was a big deal.

The worst part of it all was Carol leaving. Rick had explained to all of us briefly that she decided to leave, it seemed bizarre. The Carol that I'd briefly met didn't seem like someone who would just up and leave. I could tell it affected a lot of us, especially Daryl.

But I kept putting my work in, likely overtime too. I wanted to prove to everyone here that I was capable, and willing to do what it takes to survive. Deep down all I wanted was people to care about, people who would care about me too.

Nights were haunted by nightmares, vivid and visceral. I'd jolt awake, disoriented and gasping for air, my mind thrust back into the treacherous wilderness where every moment was a battle for survival. But amidst the darkness, there were beacons of light—Maggie or Beth, rushing to my side at the first sign of distress. Their comforting presence, and their soothing words, reminded me of the compassion that was still left in this fucked up world.

In just a few weeks, this place had become more than just a sanctuary—it was home. Each day brought a renewed sense of gratitude, a chance to prove myself and to know people, truly know them. In this unlikely haven, amidst the cold, stone walls of a prison, I found warmth, purpose, and a family unlike any I had ever known.

Carl and I had started to get to know each other better. He put on a tough front but as I'd spent more time with him I learned he had a humorous side, he could be sarcastic too but we both had the same sense of humour. I couldn't remember the last time I laughed this much but every time he and I were around each other we'd also end up making up some new joke, or I'd tell him one my brothers used to tell me.

I'd supposed the grief of my brothers was good for one thing, it helped me remember how to be a good sister. 

I'd started to teach Carl about math which seemed silly, even Daryl would scoff as he watched me explaining to Carl how to add fractions. Carl would get frustrated and complain but I'd just laugh.

"You never know when this might come in handy one day!" I'd tease, earning another round of groans from Carl before we both dissolved into laughter.

One time we'd been hollering so loudly with Beth after we'd tried to explain to Carl what long division was until a low voice came up from behind us.

"What's so funny?"

My head whipped around at the sound of Rick's voice, and I could have sworn I caught a fleeting smirk on his lips before it vanished, replaced by a stern expression as Carl spoke.

"Nothin', Dad," Carl replied quickly, shooting me a glance. "Mercy was just explaining long division. Did you have to learn that in school?"

Rick paused, his gaze shifting between Carl and me, his expression unreadable. I couldn't tell if he was amused or just pissed off.

"Yeah... yeah, I did," he finally replied, his tone neutral as he placed a comforting hand on Carl's shoulder.

"Hershel needs your help in the infirmary, mind going to help? You can too Beth," Rick said sternly.

"But Dad-"

"Now," Rick reiterated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As Carl and Beth left, I braced myself for what was to come, Rick's presence looming before me. Once we were alone, he closed the distance between us, his voice now laced with sternness and simmering anger.

"Do you think this is some kind of joke?" Rick's words were sharp, his proximity almost suffocating as he leaned in.

"I—what?" I stammered, caught off guard by his sudden intensity.

"We don't know you. I don't know you. Who do you think you are, speaking to my son like that?" His tone was accusatory, his breaths coming faster, and I could see the tension radiating from him, a vein pulsing on his forehead.

My cheeks flushed. His eyes were a bright blue, gazing right through me and he stood a few inches taller, but this didn't scare me anymore. Maybe he didn't know me but everyone else did because they bothered to get to know me. I knew that if Rick truly wanted me gone, I would already be gone. He was an empathetic person because he wanted to be a good father, he wanted to show Carl right from wrong. But what he was saying to me right now, this was wrong.

"You might not know me, Rick, but everyone else here is trying to. You walk by, you stare, you don't bother to say hello, let alone get to know me," I retorted, the frustration evident in my voice. "Tell me, do you even know what Carl's favourite colour is?"

I couldn't believe what I'd just said, but it was valid. Every word of it. Rick just studied me, my eyes, my lips, my expression. I threw him off guard I knew that. Maybe I was even right.

"Figured... well it's red if you even cared," I replied ironically.

"You watch yourself, girl. If you try anything—anything!" Rick's voice crackled with a warning, his threat hanging in the air like a heavy shroud.

I met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. "And if I do? What then? You'll kill me?" I challenged, my glare matching his intensity.

There was silence so deafening that I could feel my heart pound out of my chest. He licked his lips, watching my every facial movement. His breathing was heavy, and he glared at my lips back to my eyes.

Before either of us could speak, Maggie's hurried footsteps shattered the silence, pulling Rick's attention away. He stepped back, a fleeting expression of concern flickering across his features before he turned his focus to Maggie.

"Maggie—"

"Rick, I'm sorry, but it's Tyreese," Maggie interjected, her words rushed and breathless, her face etched with worry.

With a final glare at Rick, I followed them, my footsteps echoing in the tense atmosphere as we rushed toward the back of the prison yard.

Tyreese was a tall, buff man. He wore a hat and had strong arms, but as we approached he was throwing water jugs on the ground, screaming and grunting. Rick ran up to him, holding one hand on his gun and the other up toward him as if to calm him down.

"Tyreese—"

"No!" Tyreese roared his voice a primal growl of defiance.

"It's been days, days! We still don't know who killed Karen!" Tyreese's voice cracked with anguish, his frustration boiling over as he collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down his face.

"We will find out, Tyreese. I promise you. But she's gone, she's not coming back," Rick's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as he knelt beside Tyreese, offering what little comfort he could.

Tyreese glanced up at Rick, his eyes brimming with sorrow as he continued to grieve. Rick exchanged a meaningful look with Maggie, who nodded in silent agreement. Together, Maggie and I moved to restore the fallen water jugs.

As I helped Maggie refill the jugs, my gaze drifted back to Rick and Tyreese. Despite the pain and loss that hung heavy in the air, Rick's hand rested reassuringly on Tyreese's shoulder.

Whoever this was he lost, whatever happened here. It was painful. But Rick kept his composure. I still didn't understand him completely but I was desperate to, and I wasn't about to stop.