Chapter 3


The farm was quiet. Serene. Just as Rick remembered it. The sun hung high in the sky, erasing any shad that he might taken solace in by standing right next to the barn-the very barn that he and Shane and Carol and Hershel and...Sophia had made many memories in. Sophia. Rick traced the letters of her name on the outside of the battered doors, near the lock that held them together, barring any outsider from entrance. S-o-p-h-i-a. Rick sighed. He and Lori said if they had ever had another daughter, they'd name her Sophia.

Rick's name being called out from a distance caused him to turn, chin resting on his shoulder. At the house on the porch stood Maggie; she waved her hand in a slow back and forth motion, and Rick allowed himself to take solace in the deja vu that overcame him then, when almost three years ago, she stood there, same voice, same motion, with different circumstances. Maggie seemed to catch herself and hesitantly lowered her arm and cradled it to her chest. Rick started to make his way over to the barn, eyes trained on the horse-trodden ground.

When he made it to the porch, Maggie gave him a quick smile-almost a grimace-and stared out over the land. Rick creaked up the wooden stairs and joined her at the railing, propping his elbows up on it and leaning over.

"It's weird not seein' you in your uniform," said Maggie. She now shielded the sun from her eyes, still avoiding looking at him.

"Yeah," said Rick, "Lot's changed."

Maggie didn't respond for a beat or two. "I'm assumin' you got my invitation."

"I did."

"Can y'all make it?" Maggie turned to look Rick full on now. She worried her lower lip into her teeth, and her expression changed to nervousness.

Rick let out a small laugh and shifted so that he now leaned on his right elbow. "Carl and I will be there."

Maggie caught on and gave him an amused smile. "Just you and Carl?"

"I believe the invitation called for a plus one."

"I was thinkin' you would take..." said Maggie. She trailed off at the end, noticing how Rick's expression momentarily darkened at the thought of taking his wife to the wedding.

Rick now turned so that he rested on both elbows again, returning to the simple imagery of the farm. His eyes narrowed on the barn, and if he tried, he could trick himself into thinking that he could see the engraving of Sophia's name by the door.

"Oh," said Maggie, finally. "I'm-I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," said Rick. He straightened up to his full height. He spoke again, much louder and cheerful than before, "So who's the lucky man?!"

Maggie smiled, a bit shy now. "His name's Glenn," she giggled, "he delivers pizzas."

Rick's blue eyes sparkled, "Ain't nothing wrong with that."

"No, I guess not," said Maggie. "I jus' think it's funny."

Another silence overtook them, before Rick spoke up.

"Your father around?"

"He's in the barn," said Maggie. Rick raised his eyebrows at her, and his eyes flicked over to Sophia's name. She quickly corrected herself, "The other barn. With the horses…Nelly's givin' birth." She jutted her thumb over her shoulder.

"Maybe I'll come another time, then."

Rick made his way down the creaky steps and started to amble on over to his Hyundai parked by a small cluster of trees, when he heard Maggie calling for him.

"Rick!"

Rick turned, hands on his hips. Maggie speed-walked over to him.

"There's no hard feelin's. We still love and trust you. You're still family."

Rick gave another nod and a final glance over at the barn, tricking himself once again to read the words:

Sophia Peletier

Oct. 2, 2001-Aug. 5, 2011

Beloved daughter and goddaughter.


Andrea pressed her fingers into her temples in an effort to soothe the headache that would undoubtedly be coming on in about five minutes-most likely fifteen, because he's sure to be late, thought Andrea as she fiddled with her ring now, turning it round and round and-

"Howdy, sugar," drawled a familiar southern accent. Andrea internally groaned and looked up at her oldest and, dare she say it, dearest client.

"Merle," she greeted curtly. She unlocked her phone and pretended to tap a quick message out before slipping it into her purse. "Please, sit."

Merle, arm in a sling, slumped into the chair opposite her, an appreciative grin plastered on his face. The whites of his eyes were tinged pink, and Andrea could smell the marijuana on him from across the table. At least it's not meth this time.

"I see you're stoned," said Andrea. She rolled her eyes and opened the cheap plastic menu in front of her to peruse the options at the tiny diner.

"Got a good deal on this kush," said Merle. "Nice strain from down in Meh-hee-co."

"Whatever," said Andrea, giving up on the coffee-stained menu and pushing it to the side. "What trouble are you in this time?"

"Didn't you read my text?" grinned Merle, showcasing a missing molar.

"I believe it read: 'Meet at diner. In deep shit.'" recited Andrea.

"There ya have it," said Merle. "I'm in deep shit."

"What kind of deep shit?"

"Cop mightta caught me with a kilo or so..." he said casually, pulling a flask from his back pocket to take a sip. Andrea's eyes bugged out of her head, and her jaw dropped slightly. "...of meth."

Andrea's jaw snapped shut, and she let out a bark of laughter, "How?"

"I don' wanna talk about it," muttered Merle, looking around the room. "I just need you-" he leaned forward now, licking his lips, eyes gleaming "-to make it go away."

"How'd the fuck did you make bail?"

"Shit, sugartits, you talk as if you haven't seen my stash of cash before. 'Sides, even if you don' wanna do it, you gotta."

"And why's that?" clipped Andrea, fishing for her phone to pretend to answer very important e-mails.

"Remember that loan I gave you?"

Andrea's head cocked to the side, "Oh my God, what about it?"

"Said you'd pay me back. Either you got the cash, or you got my case."

Andrea's fingers hovered over her keyboard. Right then, a text chimed in.

Appointment with Blake at 3. You WILL make this up to me. -Gareth

"I have the cash."

"Do you now?" asked Merle, eyebrows jumping to his hairline.

"Yes. Well. Not yet. I have a very important client though. After I get paid-"

"Uh-uh," Merle crooned, waving a dirty finger in front of her face, "No cash up front, no deal."

"Okay. I'll take your case. And I bet you I can keep you out of the court. Just give me a month or so."

"Got all the time in the world," said Merle, spreading his arms wide eagle. "So whaddya say you an' me go back to my place an'-"

"Nope," said Andrea, exiting the diner as fast as she could, phone clutched tightly in her hand.

The beeping of machines. The harsh, white fluorescent light beating down from above. The sterile smell of disinfectant and whatever it is that hospitals smell like. Sasha blinked back tears at the doctor's words. Bob… Cancer… Leg… Amputation… She looked around, desperately, to find anyone who's emotions matched her own at that moment. Bob's head was thrusted back, but he was taking in the news with a quiet dignity. Sasha, on the other hand, was enraged.

"What do you mean he has 'cancer'?"

"You know what it means, Sasha," said Bob, squeezing her hand tightly. "It means sick. It means treatment. But it also means trial and faith and prayer, and I think it will bring us closer together and to God-"

"No," said Sasha definitively, standing and releasing Bob's hand. "We are not playin' that game right now, that game where you list all the good that comes with the bad. There is no good that comes with cancer. No good."

Bob watched her, tears in his eyes. But they weren't selfish tears. They weren't tears that were sad because of his cancer, tears because he had a 2% chance of surviving. They were tears because Sasha refused to accept it-refused to accept him and the package that he came in. War and cancer and alcoholism. So Sasha let out a heavy breath and collapsed back into the chair next to him. "I'm sorry, baby," she said, taking his hand and pressing it to her lips, "I'm so so sorry. I don't wanna lose you."

Bob nodded and now pulled their entwined hands to his own lips to kiss them the same. "I don't wanna leave you. But this will make us stronger," he said. Sasha opened her mouth to chastise him for bringing up the good, but he beat her to it: "It will make us stronger. I'm not just sayin' that to beat you at the game. Survival ain't about winning."

Sasha nodded and smiled through her tears. "If you say so," she said. Then, without moving her eyes from his, she asked, "Dr. Stevens?"

"Yes?"

"Can we go over treatment plans?"


"Let's talk bachelor parties!" squealed Beth, rearranging the notecards she cradled in her hand. "Who are you inviting, Maggie?"

Maggie picked at a piece of dirt under her fingernail, "Rosita, Sasha, Amy, Tara...you, but we're gonna have to get you a fake. Andrea too if she's up for it."

"What about Lori? Or Carol?"

"You didn' hear?" asked Maggie, leaning forward, a gleam in her eye. "Rick and Lori are, well, I dunno exactly, but they ain't together."

"Why?" asked Beth. "That's awful."

"They were never right for each other," said Maggie, organizing errant pictures of wedding pictures that littered the living room couch. She suddenly seemed overly uncomfortable, so Beth continued.

"Carol?"

"Do you think Ed'll let her?"

"We can ask."

Maggie nodded, "Alrighty then."

"Where are we goin'?"

"Prolly that bar that you like that's downtown first and then-" Maggie glanced in Glenn's direction, who was looking a certain speck of dust on his phone, ears tinged pink and eyes unmoving "-a quiet night in." Maggie winked at Beth.

"I was worried about strippers there for a second," said Glenn, now typing away at his phone.

"Nooo, of course not," said Maggie, before nodding at Beth and mouth yes animatedly. Beth giggled and jotted it down on the card. "Speakin' of strippers, will there be any at your bachelor party, Glenn?"

Glenn's head shot up and the blush that was barely visible on his ears not spread to his neck and beyond. "W-what? No! Of course not… um… I'm just gonna...go eat some banana bread." He bolted from the room then, leaving Maggie with an amused smirk and quirked eyebrow.

"That answers that," said Maggie. "He can't keep a secret to save his life."

Beth laughed just as her phone dinged to signal a message.

Have u talked to Maggie yet? -D.

Beth bit her lip and clicked out a reply.

I will. Promise. She's trying to figure out the bachelor parties right now. I'll ask when we get to the guest list! :)

k. -D.

"Who's that?" asked Maggie. "Jimmy?"

"Mmhh," said Beth, quickly locking her phone and tossing it onto the cushion behind her.

Maggie's eyes narrowed, "Speakin' of people who can't keep a secret."

Beth blushed. "It's not a boy...not like romantically."

Maggie laughed, "Who is it?"

"Daryl Dixon," said Beth in a small voice, toying with her nail buds.

Maggie's laughed boomed, "Bethy, you had the biggest crush on him three years ago, and now you're texting him?"

"I saw him at the diner!" defended Beth, but the smile that graced her features gave her away; neither Maggie nor Beth was serious about the argument-it was as light-hearted as could be.

"What're you two textin' about?" said Maggie, half-heartedly trying to steal Beth's phone.

Beth's face quickly became somber. "He wants to know why...after what happened with daddy and the way you reacted...why he's invited."

Maggie sighed. "He's still family, Bethy. What he did was wrong, but I think...I think he did it 'cause he-"

Glenn entered the room at that moment, mouth full of banana bread. "Did I miss anything?"

"Nothin'," said Beth, sharing a small smile with Maggie. "I'll be in my bedroom."

She took her phone with her upstairs and unlocked her phone to see two new messages staring at her.

Anything? -D.

Wanna meet up? -D.

Beth let a small giggle bubble out of her.

Yes! :) Diner in 15?

ok.

Beth smiled and ran out of her room, right by the picture that hung by her door of her and Sophia Peletier.


A/n: I really like this chapter, especially having Andrea use her phone as a defense mechanism. I don't know, I just feel like that fit her well. I'm hoping it's not OOC with Merle, I really tried to think of what he would say! Let me know what you think! I'm especially proud of Rick's section. I don't know though, let me know by reviewing, following and favoriting!! It seriously means so much to me when I get an email. Thanks to all those who have :)