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He was not one to be messed with, that Rick Grimes. He was one of the toughest men you'd known, he had gone through everything and made it out alive, even if he felt like part of him had died. That happened all too often. Another day, another loss. Another loss, the smaller the family got.
This time, two parts of the family were gone. You hated it, being stomped all over by someone who thinks that since society is gone, it's his place to rule. You hated the sick things he did, taking lives and making people even more miserable than the dead already had.
Rick was right about one thing, that we should fear the living. And at this moment, sitting in the lineup, you had believed it more than ever.
It was morning now, when the sound of an engine running filled your ears. You didn't look up, you stayed looking at the same spot on the ground as you had all night, the sickening crack of lucille being brought down upon Glenn and Abraham ringing through your ears. Abraham was like a brother to you, and Glenn was one of your closest friends in the group. So when Negan had started his twisted game of 'Eenie meeny miney mo', you found your constant, a place you could go so that you could be anywhere but the lineup, anywhere but there.
But it didn't work, and as you watched the blood spew from both Glenn and Abraham's decapitated bodies, you cried a silent plea, though you didn't know who it was to. You prayed that if there was any sort of god, anyone who could hear your cries at all, that they would do something.
Nothing. Next thing you knew, Rick, the love of your life, was being taunted and forced into an RV with the man himself, the man that ripped out the group's heart and left it for the walkers. It made your stomach turn, knowing he was in there with him, probably being made to look like a fool.
Rick Grimes was anything but a fool. The RV came to a stop in the spot where it sat that night, the door being flung open as Rick stumbled out, Negan with him. You lifted your head, taking in your surroundings. The sun beating down comforted you, as though the people above were giving you an embrace.
You disliked the site of it, everything. The corpses of your family, the dark circles under everyone's eyes, the broken expression that stayed with most of them. But mostly, you despised him. You watched carefully, each movement the wretched man made, you caught it, you remembered it.
Throwing Rick's shaking frame to the ground, your jaw clenched. Your hearing blared in and out, disembodied voices playing as you watched and tried to make sense of the situation. You stayed stiff, watching as Carl, who was like a son to you, was forced to the ground in front of Rick. Your pupils dilated, sending signals of concern through your body, making your breathing even more shaky and uneven than it had been before.
"Do it, Rick!" Negan mocked.
"I-it could be me.." the words stumbled over one another as Rick spoke them. You hadn't seen him like this in so long, since Lori. It was that look in his eyes, that fear. You looked around at the rest of your group, people crying and daring to look away.
Negan's tormenting went on and on down a winding road of madness, one which nobody else wanted to be sent down. Until finally it came to a stop. All of Carl's limbs were still intact, and no one else had gotten hurt. Not physically, at least.
You were finally able to focus on the situation, your vision and hearing becoming crystal clear as Negan turned his back and walked into the RV, driving it away from the mess he had caused. At first, nobody moved, nobody spoke up, nobody could comprehend all that had happened in the past 24 hours.
You were the first one to move, your head tilting up as you closed your eyes, basking in the sun. In that moment it was peaceful, in that moment you tried to clear your head, even if it didn't work. Tears streaked down your blood stained cheeks, the blood of your friends who you had been sitting close enough to be splattered with their crimson fluids.
Fluttering them open, your eyes went down to your hands. You observed them, the backs, the palms, your fingers, and the raw feeling that filled them.
More silence. It felt like forever, until you finally gathered the strength to pull yourself back onto your feet and begin moving, nearly falling over several times in the process. You felt weak, like you hadn't eaten in days, when in fact you had had quite the meal hours before. You began walking down the lineup where your friends sat or lay.
You offered Rosita your hand, to which she didn't respond. Michonne cooperated though, taking it as you pulled her up beside you. She gave you a said nod, squeezing your hand softly as more tears spewed silently from your eyes. You nodded back, taking a deep breath, her letting go of your hand and going to try to get something out of Rosita.
You successfully got Eugene, Aaron, and Sasha to their feet. Michonne and Aaron went to sit by Maggie, who was staring at what used to be Glenn. Rosita was soon joined by Sasha and Eugene, to sit by the remains of Abraham. Slowly, you maneuvered to over to where Rick and Carl were.
Carl embraced you tightly, which you graciously responded to the feeling of being held. Rick watched carefully, and you could tell that he still hadn't been able to get over what had happened. Carl let you go and went to where Maggie was, comforting her.
A sad smile played on your trembling lips as you hugged Rick, burying your face in his neck.
"We should go." you whispered softly, tears flowing over your lips and off your chin.
You could feel Rick nod, a subtle but warming feeling that reminded you that he was still here. After a moment of silence, Rick finally spoke.
"I love you." it was a whisper, a soft and low tone that no one else was able to hear. But he wanted you to hear it, because he now realized more than ever that there is always the possibility that he may not see you again. That was the first time, though. The first I love you. And just for a moment, you were at peace.
"I love you too."
But as soon as you let go, the real world was back, and the fight for survival carried on.
