Don't look back

Bonus chapter

I just realised I never posted this! So here it is... Rick's reaction to Mary's death...

"No," Rick sobbed suddenly, falling down to his knees next to Carl, losing all will to live, "no. No!"
"That's her." Carl cried, his hand grabbing at his gun, then remembering it was empty. "S-she's gone. She can't be gone. She... She can't!"
Memories flooded Rick's mind. When he found Mary, the only-just-four year old, sobbing on her aunts doorstep. The first time her sang the sunshine song to her. At time she met Carl and they instantly loved each other. Their meal at the CDC, Mary sat on his lap, eating peas with her fingers. When he and Shane were hungover, and Mary comically opened the pill bottle when he couldn't. Before they got to the farm, when Mary was too hot, she slept on his chest, on top of the RV. How she was the one to comfort him after Sophia went missing. Mary and Carl finding the deer in the woods. How Mary never left Carl's side after he had been shot. Seeing Mary as a normal child for the first time, in one of Maggie's dresses, with clean skin and neat hair. The first time she called Rick daddy. Playing soccer on the farm with half the group, Mary giggling, looking happy and free, in her beloved dungarees and Shane's cap. Mary constantly asking for a puppy or a chicken. Finding Mary after the farm. Their fake Christmas Day, just to put a smile on the child's face. How Mary would talk to Judith before she was even born. Mary drawing on the prison walls in sharpie. Finding her after Merle took her. How she'd only sleep when she was safely nestled into Rick's arms. The look on her face when they played in the lake on her birthday. How happy she was when Carl gave her the bunny teddy. Seeing her being so loved by Maggie and Glenn, trusting her life in their hands. Watching her go hunting with Daryl. The time when she got her chicken. Mary finally making a friend in Tommy, getting over her fear of other people her age. Mary's face of  pure joy when she rode Nemo. Seeing her innocent and sweet and peaceful face when she woke up from being sick.
His daughter was dead.
Every time he thought of her, his heart gave a painful twinge. He'd never messily brush her hair again. Hold her in his arms until she fell asleep. Sing to her. See her joyful smile, hear her gorgeous little laugh. Have deep conversations about fairies with her. Teach her about spellings and countries. Watch her draw on the walls. Ride a horse. Exist.
Carl was on his feet, Walkers surrounding them, killing them as Rick sobbed uncontrollably, protecting his father.
His little girl was dead.
The girl who wasn't acraid.
The girl who was so much older than her age.
The girl who only wore dungarees and occasionally dresses.
The girls who did messy cartwheels on the grass.
The girl who saw everyone as family.
The girl who's laugh was music to his ears.
The girl who killed Walkers.
The girl who swore without knowing what it meant.
The girl who found joy in powdered eggs.
The girl who was an angel gone home.