The chirping enriched this place in the midst of nature and simulated a quiet and completely normal reality, as if the epidemic had been just a bad dream. Sometimes you hoped to wake up in your bed to find out that this was only the result of your imagination. It is well known that time in sleep takes on a different form... It could have been a risky and absurd hypothesis, but sometimes the thought just came to you...

Your leg seemed to be in good shape by now. Still, you were not allowed to get up, Rick and the others preferred that you stay calm for at least another day. You were hoping to be able to be reasonable in the future. You did not care if you could reduce that possibility if you wanted to force it, you couldn't afford to slow the group down. After the last uttered words, Daryl had left without adding anything, as if this had been an inhumane effort. Sasha, although you didn't really know her, had meanwhile gotten you pants that she had found in the city. She then stayed with you and told you how she had met Glenn and the others on the way. She seemed grateful to him, apparently rescuing her from a bad situation in the woods. She too had lost her family, but at least her brother had stayed. You knew what it felt like, almost everyone knew... There were only a few cases left, some people still surrounded by happiness, surrounded by family members. For example, Rick still had his children with him, even though he had lost his wife. The little girl had a strong character, no matter how tense her smile was, she tried it. In the meantime, you hadn't been able to talk to Tyreese, the man who had helped Beth and the baby all these days. Who knows what a sense of gratitude the sheriff felt towards him? However, the other new members had already left before you could grasp their knowledge. But the fact that Maggie and Glenn trusted them made you think they were good people. You tried to stretch a little, because staying in the bed began to irritate you. From the moment you were alone, you got up to approach a mirror on the dresser on the opposite wall. You patted your healthy leg and clung to the surrounding furniture. The glass surface was full of dust, so you passed it with the sleeve of a military shirt. As soon as you could see yourself, you were horrified. Shoulder destroyed, leg destroyed, scratches and bruises on the arms. There were still some old hematomas on the stomach. You looked like a painting... Fortunately, most of the injuries were easy to hide. The door swung open and before you could turn around you realized immediately that Sam had caught you. Resigned, you followed him and returned to the bed.

"I told Rick that you're feeling better, he wanted to talk to you.", he informed you: "Shall I get him?"

You agreed and he left the room. The group wanted to think about the next actions. Terminus had been a terrible mistake. It became increasingly difficult to be optimistic, every step could be dangerous. Lately it seemed impossible to find an escape route, a suitable place for you all. They were physically united, but divided. More minds, less common decisions. Although Rick would have decided in the end for everyone. The trust was not lost. When he came to you, the sheriff leaned over and showed you what he was holding in his arms. Judith. He sat next to you and cuddled the little creature. She could soothe his soul.

"How are you?", he asked, clearing his throat: "Sam told me you had to keep your leg still for a while."

The child's blue eyes focused on yours. They were like your little sister's...

"I'm fine, thank you...", you answered. He gave you half a smile and frowned. He was thoughtful, something worried him.

"Is something wrong?", you asked, stroking the baby's tiny hand.

"I don't know what to do.", he said worriedly: "We can't stay here, that's for sure, but I can't ask our people to plunge into the unknown. We miraculously got away and I can't and I don't want to put them in danger again."

You understood him. The load fell on his shoulders and he began to feel the weight.

"Rick, what happened is not your fault. Look at it from another point of view. Terminus has allowed us to find each other again. If that terrible place hadn't been, we'd still wonder if the others are still alive or not. We were lucky, it's a miracle and you don't need to blame yourself because self-pity leads to nothing..."

He looked at you without adding anything and examined you with his crystalline eyes. He put a hand on your knee and thanked you without saying a word. This contact surprised you. He wasn't usually like that to you, but Judith's presence had probably led him to it.

"When I saw Daryl running, with you in his arms, hurt and bleeding heavily, I was afraid and thought the worst... And the armory... I don't want to know, and I don't care why you went back. It's enough for me if you promise not to do this single-handedly anymore."

At that moment, he tightened his grip and forced you to look him straight in the face.

"You did something very stupid, I hope you at least noticed.", he said seriously: "Y/N, promise me, I'm tired of losing people, I can't take it anymore..."

You remained silent and petrified by his words. You did not expect such a confession. You did not expect Rick to open up to you one day. Did he really take care of you? Or did he just let himself go and think that one of his people could take your place? It was possible that he had portrayed the same scene with others in the group and imagined how much he would suffer. Maybe he felt guilty for not noticing ... Or maybe you just had too much paranoia. Maybe you were the one who still thought you weren't part of the family.

"I'm sorry, Rick.", you whispered confused: "I promise you."

Meanwhile, Daryl hurried into the room, maybe he had something important to report, but as soon as he saw the sheriff's hand, he stopped immediately. Rick immediately pulled his hand back and jumped up, waiting to hear him. The archer looked at you with his eyes hidden by a few strands of hair and gestured to Rick to talk.

"We foun' everythin' we needed in the village.", he explained. Rick waved to you and went on to check the different products. Daryl, however, stopped motionless and stared at you as if it would help him answer some of his questions. Then he moved and positioned himself in front of you. He took something out of his bag and handed it to you.

"I made sure no one saw it.", he said, showing you the notebook.

You wanted to thank him, but instinctively you grabbed it, without saying anything, flipping through the pages, afraid it would be ruined. The paper had absorbed the mud and turned light brown, almost like coffee stains, but the writing was still visible. You looked at the object for which you had risked your life and realized how stupid it was. The memory of your short-time, good friend would always stay with you... So it did not matter if you had the notebook. You sighed, tired from your temporary irrationality, leaning to one side and looking back at the Daryl's face. You wondered how to behave, now that you knew what he had said, when you were unconscious and he was carrying you. 'I'm not the person you need anyway.' That sentence echoed in your head. What does that mean? You weren't touched by the idea of ​​interest, but it was possible he felt guilty.

"What do ya' think?", he asked: "That I'm an asshole?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Are you?"

He leaned his back against the wooden furniture and folded his arms across his chest.

"Maybe.", he said, raising one corner of his mouth.

"Then yes, probably.", you replied and smiled slightly. It relieved you, he seemed amused. He was glad to see you laugh, it meant you were fine.

"I was stupid, even Rick told me.", you said: "And thank you."

Then he looked at you grimly and did not understand your intentions.

"Are ya' fuckin' kiddin' me?", he asked: "I don't deserve any thanks. On the contrary, ya' should yell at me angrily."

You forced yourself on your healthy leg, got up and hobbled towards him.

"Are ya' crazy?", he grumbled: "Ya' should stay 'n bed, ya'-...", he started, but you hugged him and put your face gently on his chest. He stayed away from this contact and let his arms hang as if he did not know what to do. He neither moved nor said anything.

"You're not an asshole, Daryl Dixon.", you whispered: "I know that what you did and what you do is for my own good. Sometimes you make mistakes, but that characterizes you, and I feel the duty to thank you. Even if you don't understand why."

There was a minute's silence of embarrassment. Gradually you realized what you had done. You had instinctively acted without thinking too much about it. You were happy, you knew that you had done the right thing. Then his arms suddenly rested on your back and gently strengthened this loving and spontaneous exchange. It seemed unusual and strange to hear no insult or hatred, a speech that would ironicize the situation or that would vilify you to end the embrace... No... You both just stayed in that gesture for a while...

~

Despite what you were told, you put on your pants and joined the others lying on the various benches inside the church. They seemed very tired and insecure, unsure how to move the next day. For you, it wouldn't matter to stay in the church, for the moment this place was safe and could be useful to clarify the plans, even if it seemed to worry their thoughts even more. As soon as they saw you go, Sam shook his head resignedly and pretended to look away. Carl meanwhile ran to you with the baby in his arms and smiled more than ever.

"You can walk again!", he said happily.

"Obviously!", you underlined with a smile. Michonne smiled too, amused by the look Sam gave you. Carol winked at you from a distance. You looked at her and noticed that something had changed in her. She seemed stronger than she was in the prison. Meanwhile, Beth also reached you.

"I'm glad to see you.", you smiled at her.

"I knew I would find you again, Tyreese helped me and was patient to support me.", she explained, looking at him with her eyes: "I'm glad to see you're fine."

Tyreese now awoke from his own thoughts and approached as well.

"We couldn't get to know each other yet.", he spoke gently.

"My mistake.", you smiled: "I'm Y/N."

"She's the one who always gets herself into some kind of shit!", Daryl shouted, busy torturing a bench with a knife.

You both ignored him and shook hands.

"You...", you said and also looked at Sasha: "You were also at the attack on the prison that day."

"Yes, the Governor had welcomed us and recruited us for the mission, but when we understood that he wanted to kill you, we were against it.", his sister explained.

"And you cared for Beth and the baby, even though you don't even know her.", you said, smiling at Tyreese. His eyes widened. "How could I do the opposite?" He seemed surprised, but it was not spontaneous.

When you re-examined the little church, you noticed that there was no father who had kindly hosted you. You then saw a second door, from whose slits a shadow moved. The guy went back and forth. Nervous...

"Mr. “This 's the house of God, I don't want weapons” 's a bit “nervous”.", Daryl mocked as if reading your mind.

"If you were the last person to talk to him, it's understandable.", you replied ironically. Daryl sank the knife into the wood, which had been destroyed from time to time, and gave you no answer. The sheriff hid a smile under his beard as always tilting his head.

"By the way, if you want to talk to him, you'd do us a favor.", he admitted.

"Me?", you exclaimed doubtfully and Michonne pointed to the door. "You're the only one he hasn't talked with yet.", she said.

"What should I say?", you asked uncertainly but everyone then looked at you perplexed. You shrugged, had to improvise and see how it went. And so you knocked on the door, said your name, entered slowly, and closed the door behind you again. He stared suspiciously out of the window and still wore the priest's clothes. He had remained true to his belief, despite all the shit... This was either admirable or stupid, but it depends on his own point of view.

"Father Gabriel.", you said softly: "I came to thank you personally."

Then he turned around, showing you his frightened eyes. He was afraid. Not in front of you, but something worried him and not just a little. Then he stared at your leg.

"I have prayed to the Lord not to forget one of his wounded children. I am glad that you are well."

To tell the truth, you gave more credit to the work of Rick and the others of the group, but given the circumstances, you couldn't argue.

"Then let me thank you."

He smiled at you. Maybe you were the only one who had kindly introduced yourself.

"Tell me about you, we are all brothers and sisters. Have you known these people for a long time?"

"They are good people. I don't know what you saw, but you can trust them. I was an enemy to these people, but they welcomed me."

He knew that you were honest, he could read it clearly from your expression, and yet he wasn't completely convinced. Maybe he noticed something outside the group that had escaped you all. He seemed to have survived well, probably never felt the need to use a weapon to protect himself from walkers or other individuals. He probably saw in you all that transformation that you had longed for survival, maybe you were savages, or just excellent hunters. He changed his attitude, aware of the fact that you analyzed him and pretended to be happy and in a good mood. You looked at the Bible on a table, the different candles and the crucifix on the wall.

"Y/N, do you trust God?", he suddenly asked you.

You weren't ready to answer immediately, as this question gave rise to a series of reflections on a particular topic. You couldn't deny that now and then you believed in him in the past or rather refuted the hypothesis of his existence. You thought beyond that, you didn't want to problematize the question. But it was impossible to think that such an epidemic could be superior to something like a higher power.

"Yes.", you said dryly. He smiled and adjusted his collar.

"If you hesitate to answer me, I suppose you lied. If you don't trust the Lord, how can you stand all this?", he asked.

At that moment, you thought of the people who had stood by your side, who in one way or another had helped you to move forward, or saved you from bad situations. But you had no time to answer, because he spoke again. Gabriel tried to get you to change your mind to get you on the right path. It was the idea that good people were destined to suffer, to die. Often this proved to be a correct hypothesis.

"There is a risk that I intend to experience. Father, this is now the reality. The past life is just a memory, we have no time to pray, to ask for divine help. We can only rely on ourselves."

"You don't have to tell me your thoughts, I've already understood your logic.", he said. "But I wonder if you don't want to convince yourself."

"Why do you want tell me to become a believer?", you asked: "Would this change anything in the world?"

"When the blond man and the other, the one with the crossbow, cleaned the wound on your arm, I noticed the long scar, wondering if you had ever asked for help from God. Rick, your leader told me a few things about you, do you really think it's all just luck?"

You chuckled nervously and couldn't formulate an appropriate answer, something to finish this speech immediately. The scar... Who knows what the sheriff had told him?

"Excuse me, it wasn't my intention to be intrusive.", you said and left the room without saying a word, shocked by his speech.

You scanned the benches with your eyes in search of Rick and clearly ignored the others, wondering what had happened. They probably saw your nervousness. You opened the other door and saw the sheriff sitting on the steps. But when the impulse to show him all the fury you had almost imploded, you saw in his arms the little Judith, who was sleeping happily. You stopped and sighed uneasily. Rick looked at you with interest and whispered, afraid to wake up the little creature.

"Y/N...", he whispered: "I did not mention anything personal... I stayed vague... He told me about the scar, I didn't even know of its existence."

You forgot that detail, that little mistake. Since talking to Beth and Daryl, you assumed that everyone knew it.

"I'm still angry."

"I guarantee you.", he admitted: "I was wrong not to talk to you first, but what do you think about Gabriel?"

"I don't know, I don't really like this guy."

Rick smiled and looked at the baby. He was curious about your opinion, but he had already made his own. Then he frowned.

"Do you want to take Judith for a moment?", he suggested, and you stepped aside to reply, but he was so fast that you already held Judith in your arms.

You didn't have the slightest idea how to protect a baby. So you just stared at her, as if that could give you a sudden enlightenment. The sheriff laughed at you, surprised at how awkward it looked. You tried to calm Judith, but he put his hands on your arms and showed you the movements you were supposed to simulate. Slowly, the gesture became fluid, eliminating the initial awkwardness. It was the second time he touched you. As soon as he realized that you were looking at him seriously, he stepped away from you. He was different when you were alone, he had never been so loving. But you blamed the baby, it was possible she influenced him.

"How are you?", he asked.

"I have no pain thanks to the painkillers."

He cracked his knuckles and played nervously with his hands.

"No, I'm serious.", he said: "Are you sure you're okay?"

You rolled your eyes: "You're asking about the scar, aren't you? I'm fine, damn it, Rick. What happened back then is over."

"Always on the defensive...", he said, referring to you: "I meant in general."

"Why are you asking me this?"

He snorted and began compulsively to move his left leg.

"Because I'm not feeling well.", he said abruptly.

You hugged the little girl as if she could see that her father was angry.

"Rick...", you suggested: "If it would help you to talk about it, then talk."

"I don't give myself peace, knowing that these cannibals are still alive makes me crazy."

You thought about what you could say to him, but there were no sentences that could alleviate that sense of revenge and hate. You may have understood it too much.

"I can understand what you're feeling.", you honestly admitted: "I would love to kill each of them for what they did."

He looked at you in surprise, he had expected no such revelation.

"Anyone else would have told me to put hate aside and to look forward, because those people were still humans, somehow..."

"You knew I wouldn't give you this trivial answer, or am I wrong?"

He shrugged, but pleased to learn that he wasn't the only person who thought so.

"They will get what they deserve."

"One day...", you added and he seemed calmer, as if he had freed himself from this burden. His leg also stopped moving frantically.

"Y/N...", he said: "I probably have to apologize..."

You opened your eyes and smiled.

"For what reason?", you asked curiously.

He then turned to you and just stared at you for a few seconds, as if he didn't have the guts to tell you something. Suddenly you felt your blood freeze. You didn't want to believe it... You stood firmly in your position as if you had cemented yourself. You didn't have the courage to move a finger. His face slowly approached yours until you felt his beard against your chin. His lips almost pressed against yours, gently touching them with uncertainty. You saw the scene in slow motion, as if you couldn't escape what was happening... Then, without realizing it, your mouth allowed your tongues to hug and enjoy each other...