After a long, sleepless night Lori gently pulled back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the empty bed. She sat in the darkness for a while, not knowing or caring what time it was. After washing up in the bathroom and checking on Judith and Carl she quietly walked downstairs.
The light red afghan provided little warmth in the cool room, but she was more focused on how she could put her family back together. She sat on the sofa in the dark and wondered how much more can be put on them.
Carl was shot not just once, but twice, and just a week ago a madman cut out his other eye. Rick tried to fight, but since he was missing his right hand, it made it more difficult.
The night seemed endless. She was waiting for Rick to return from bringing Maggie to the Hilltop. She paced the floor all night, continuously looking out of the front window, looking, waiting and praying that there would be some sign of her husband, son and friends. The beautiful sunrise mocked the glum mood in which she was stuck. She knew something was wrong. Finally, the RV lumbered down the road and Spencer opened the gate. Sasha got out, followed by Michonne, Aaron and Rosita. No Glenn, no Abraham, and what made Lori overwhelmed by fear and grief, no Rick or Carl. Everyone looked stunned. The news hit her hard.
It was just two days ago that Rick and Carl returned. Although Rosita told her what happened, nothing could prepare her for seeing Carl completely blind.
Aaron hopped out of the car and took Judy from her arms, then stood next to her as Rick guided him out of the vehicle and toward the house, and directly into the arms of his mother. She tried to keep her composure in order to keep her boy calm.
While she was embracing her son and reassuring him that everything will be okay, her gaze landed on her husband's crystal blue eyes. She hated seeing him in emotional pain. She knew he was hurting. He stood silently with a look of complete defeat on his face.
"You'll be okay." She whispered into her boy's ear.
When they broke the hug she took Rick in her arms. His body shook with silent sobs and she felt the stream of tears dampen her shoulder.
"It'll be alright." She said, as she rubbed his back.
She wanted to stay that way for hours. It was the first physical contact since he placed his hand on her shoulder when she revived Hershel. He dropped his arms in less than a minute and escorted Carl into the house, walking away from the quasi-reunion and his so-called wife.
xxxxx
Breakfast was quiet. Judy was in her high chair, tearing apart the still warm pancakes Lori made. Rick left his room in the four bedroom house, helped Carl walk downstairs and to the kitchen table. Lori placed the dish in front of their son, and told him where on the plate the food was.
"Pancakes at twelve o'clock, eggs at three."
"Thanks, mom."
She placed both her hands on the side of his head and kissed his temple,
"I love you, hon."
"Love you too, mom."
She stayed holding her son, who has seen so much in his young years, and wanted to take it all away.
Without a kiss or acknowledgement, Rick sat at his spot and started to eat.
There was nothing to say. Lori sipped her coffee while standing with her back against the sink, watching her boy, and trying to think of how she can help him.
"Denise will be here in a little while. She wants to work on physical therapy."
"Okay." Carl said softly, as he felt around the table for his glass of juice.
"How's the pain, hon? Denise has some medicine left."
"I'm alright, mom."
"I could make a supply run." Rick stated flatly, automatically looking at the child who can't see him anymore.
Lori glared at her estranged husband, wanting to scream at him, but thought the better of it. Rick glanced at her and noticed she was pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger.
She placed her mug in the sink and before leaving the room to get Judy dressed and noticed Rick was having trouble cutting his pancakes. In the months since Terminus took his hand, along with Merle and Bob's life, he had trouble adjusting. He could shoot with his left hand, but not very well. He cursed himself for wasting bullets and couldn't quite master swinging the machete. He tried to be a helpful father to Judith but never felt as though he emotionally connected to the child.
He used the excuse of the loss of his dominant hand as a way to evade tending to the child.
The rift that started when she pushed him away that horrible night became a crevasse they couldn't cross.
"Want some help?" She asked softly.
Rick shook his head, dismissively.
She picked Judy up and hugged her tightly, walked passed Rick and gave Carl a kiss on the head.
"Let me know if you need anything, sweetie."
Rick watched as she left the room. He ached to tell her what happened, what Negan did, what happened in the RV, and feel her in his arms again.