It was the rain that made her think of the song by Patty Griffin. It was true, she realized as she stood at the window overlooking Hilltop's makeshift graveyard, that a hurt can go so deep that one can think they are gonna drown from the pain of it.
Not that they would, of course. Nobody drowned in their grief. Not that she ever witnessed, anyway. No, what typically happened was the griever descended into the madness grief manifested itself into. The madness convinced them to chose a manner in which to end their suffering.
And sometimes, she mused as rain slapped against the glass with glee, all one needs to do is weep while the rain comes pouring down.
Not that a man like Rick Grimes would cotton to such a theory.
No, Rick was the kind of man who'd keep his hurt buried down so deep inside that it'd slam up against a heart slowly going hard, hard, hard.
His pain would pound and tear at walls made from steel and stone, begging for a release he'd never allow himself to have.
Rick wouldn't bow to grief's demands anymore than he would Negan's.
Giving up, giving in wasn't in the cards for him.
No matter that the thing he craved the most wasn't something he could have, he wouldn't quit.
He wouldn't let the pale rider beat him again.
A week, she thought as she stared through the wet. Carl's been gone less than a week.
So much changed after that night. Alexandria and the Kingdom was lost, they were embroiled in the middle of a war they might not survive, and things were running low. Everyone had suffered.
None more than Rick.
Losing a friend, sibling, parent or spouse was cruel enough. To lose a child? Well, that was unimaginable.
Rick would carry Carl's death inside him for the rest of his life.
For him, it was his greatest failure.
The ultimate sin.
A father failing his son when he needed him most.
Others tried to tell him it wasn't his fault. He did nothing wrong. He hadn't told Carl to stay and help.
He'd told him it was his choice if he wanted to go back.
Carl knew the risks of going out there alone. He knew one wrong move was all it took for Death to win.
Rick didn't accept that logic.
No more than he'd bow out of this war so he could grieve.
He couldn't stop. Not yet. Not until the war was over and Negan dead.
Rick said it was so they'd have a future.
She believed he did it for Carl.
Everything Rick had done was for his children. They were his purpose for living. For going on when others might have given up and gladly accepted the offer Death gave them. He wanted to build a new world for them.
However, the world was now a dark, dark place and Carl wasn't there to shine a bit of light for him to follow.
He hasn't even read the letter that Carl wrote him, she realized, heart twisting into knots.
She doubted he ever would.
The sky boiled black. Sheets of light played a game of peek-a-boo among the thick clouds. The smell of ozone becomes almost choking. Thunder rattled the walls and shook the windows.
It trembled in her heart and in the fingers she placed on the glass.
The rain was so thick now that she could barely make out Rick kneeling by the slew of graves. Another flash fractured the sky and he was there, his shoulders stooped, head bowed, the weight of his grief and guilt heavier than the shroud covering him.
She was about to go out to him, to tell him it was time for him to come inside, to eat and rest when she sees another figure crossing the yard.
She didn't need to see the vest or the crossbow to know who was going to retrieve Rick from his graveside vigil.
Their friendship might have become strained because of this war they were fighting, but it was not broken. Theirs was an unbreakable bond. One forged in blood a long time ago.
They are more than friends, she realized as Daryl reached Rick's side.
They are brothers.
Brothers fought. Sometimes bitterly, often viciously.
Brothers could say the hell with it and walk away from each other. Sometimes forever, often for only a short time.
However, when the chips were down and the cards all on the table, they'd be there.
They'd help the other get out from under the rain that was falling down, down, down.
Daryl placed a hand on Rick's shoulder. She didn't know what either said or if words were even spoken between them, but Rick slowly climbed to his feet.
Strange how hard the rain is coming down now, she thought as the two turned and made their way slowly towards the house. Rick's still alive under that cold, dark shroud. The rain's not holding him down.
Rain, rain, rain.
It was nothing, she realized as the front door opened, but wet on the ground.
A/N: Hello, all! I hope that life has been good to you!
This piece came to me after hearing the song Rain by Patty Griffin. It's a beautiful song if you have never heard it and perfectly fits what is going on when this piece is taking place.
I also intentionally left the female observer of this piece mysterious so that people can decide who you think she is. It could be Michonne, Maggie, Carol or even Enid. It's up to you all to decide ;)
Please, if you like this piece, favorite it! Also, feel free to comment below if you liked this piece (or not). Take care, everyone!