IN WHICH - The last thing that Hope Mikaelson expected when she came out of Malivore was to still be alive, the second last thing she expected was to be disowned by most of her living family, and the final last thing she expected was some ancient be...
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THIRD PERSON POV
CHAPTER 11
The sun hung high in the sky as Rick and the rest of the group returned to the farm, the quiet hum of the day's heat pressing down on them. The air felt still, heavy with unspoken words and unaddressed fears. Their search for Sophia had yielded no new answers, and as they entered the yard, Rick's eyes instinctively scanned for Daryl and Hope, but they were nowhere to be seen. The weight of that absence settled over him like a shadow, but he kept his focus on what was in front of him.
Hershel stood near the barn, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. There was something about the man's posture that seemed to draw the very heat out of the air around him, a coldness that couldn't be ignored. Rick had always respected Hershel's unwavering commitment to his land, but now, with the stakes higher than ever, that same commitment felt like a wall.
Hershel wasn't one to show his concerns lightly, but it was clear from the set of his jaw that he wasn't happy about the continued presence of outsiders. It was one thing when they first arrived, but now, with the group growing more restless by the day, it was as though the man was losing faith in their ability to remain on his farm.
"They've been gone too long," Rick muttered under his breath, his tone clipped as he watched Hershel.
Glenn, always the quick-witted one, stood off to the side with Maggie, giving her a little grin, his hands buried deep in his pockets as they exchanged words. For a brief moment, it seemed as if the weight of the world was lifted off Glenn's shoulders, his usual flirtatious energy somehow lightening the atmosphere. He seemed to be stealing little moments with Maggie, his bright smile catching her eye, but there was no mistaking the tension that clung to them both. It wasn't just the weight of the walkers or the constant threat of death—it was the strained relationships building beneath the surface.
Rick's eyes darted away from the couple, his focus shifting back to the matter at hand.
Lori had been walking alongside him, her steps slow and deliberate. He could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the constant worry that weighed on her shoulders. She stopped, her gaze lingering on Glenn for a moment before she turned back to Rick, her voice lower than usual.
"Rick," she said softly, "I need you to go into town for me."
Rick's brow furrowed, a brief flash of confusion crossing his face. "Town? What for?"
Lori hesitated before speaking again, her voice tinged with discomfort. "Plan B. We need to make sure... just in case. It's a precaution, Rick."
Rick's chest tightened, and for a moment, he found himself lost in the gravity of her words. A decision had been made long before any of this started, but now, faced with the reality of the world they were in, the burden of it all seemed to carry a heavier weight. He didn't know what to feel—resentment, anger, or a numb acceptance.
