"If it's all th'same to ye, I'd like ta train wit' Carl." Nora had expressed her worry of Carl's sole attachment to firearms some time ago. It was only now that she had approached Rick and Lori to fully explain her intentions. She had been healed well enough and training with Michonne had become much easier. She wanted the ability to help the only way she knew how.

"You think he's ready?" Rick asked. Lori remained silent.

"I know he is. An' he expresses enough interest in it during my storytelling. I t'ink he could be a great swordsman. If ye let Michonne and I take 'im on, I can guarantee he'll be able t'old his own wit'out fail. We've bot' been taught well enough." Michonne nodded in agreement, offering a small smile at the idea of being included in the group finally. It was the girls' way of offering their only aid. "An' I can teach 'im far more dan mere marksmanship. I'm well-schooled in various arts." Nora added.

Rick had taken the day a few weeks ago to discuss the possibilities over with Lori. Once they had made the choice, Nora had made them promise not to inform Carl. She and Michonne had begun by including him in storytelling, animating their tales with wooden swords and exuberant fighting stances that Carl had picked up well enough. He was learning the basics quickly, much to Nora's happy surprise.

As such, the moment Carl had rushed up to Nora and Michonne after abandoning Daryl and his crossbow, it was only a matter of time before the young women included him in their intense sparring match.

She couldn't seem to get the memory of Daryl's calloused hand as it cupped her own while they wandered in silence along those darkened corridors of the prison. She recalled every breath with such great intensity. But more or less, she remembered how fearlessly they met one another's eyes; as though there was nothing to be held back anymore. Their cards were laid out onto the table and though both were extremely vulnerable, Nora felt more protected than ever before. It was as though their exposure had been meant for each other and that alone... nobody else would be able to penetrate such a charismatic brick wall, except for them.

It was beautiful.

Petrifying.

And it distracted Nora to the point where Michonne was actually winning.

"Get up!" Michonne hissed in anger, growing frustrated with Nora's clumsiness. The Galway Archer grunted as she struck the ground.

Wooden swords or no, they damn well hurt when they made contact with the spine.

"Fuck, Michonne, we're in bloody practice mode!" She shouted back, dodging an artful swing and barreling in the opposite direction. She shot up her oak blade and stalled Michonne's kill-target, shoving the ebony-skinned girl back a few steps before stumbling to her feet.

"You're distracted." She muttered, flicking the dust off her harmless blade out of habit as she moved to help Nora up. "It's only a matter of time before the Governor shows up and you're playing little schoolgirl fantasies in your head."

"Fuck off." Nora spat venomously.

"Nora! Nora!" Carl shouted out as he approached the girls with a breathless stance, flushed cheeks and a gleaming smile. "Tell me a story!"

"Lad, it ain't storytime." Nora gave him a quizzical look. Michonne moved to grab the spare wooden sword they had made for the boy, preparing for someone who might actually pay attention. "Not yet, anyway. How about t'night, yeah?"

"C'mon, Nora. Please?" He mustered his best puppy face. Nora huffed.

"Shite. Can't say no t'that, can I?" She watched as Michonne handed him the sword and cleared her throat. "Alright. Are you Prince Charmin' or are ye Captain Hook t'day?"

"Hook!" He replied, taking up the sword and laughing as Michonne ruffled his hair.

Nora gave Michonne a look. "Dat makes ye th'prince."

Michonne glared.

"Alright. Where did we leave off last night, lad?"

"Girlie!" Carl said in his best British accent, assuming his fighting position. "We've come fer ye glass slippers!"

Nora faked fear and jolted backwards, assuming her own false courage. "Who be you to order me about an' call ME girlie?! HA!" She lunged. Carl dodged and resumed his attack posture, swinging at her face. Nora dipped backwards into a bridge and backflipped away.

None of the trio could even stop to pay attention to the laughter surrounding them as their fight continued.

"And then!" Nora announced as Carl was 'struck' down by 'Prince Charming', "Cinderella and 'er prince, ever the happiest in being reunited in the midst of such utter turmoil... united in the world's most powerful force on the face of this planet."

Her eyes flashed to Michonne, who could only grin as they stooped low beside Carl, knowing exactly what to do.

"What was it?"

"A kiss." Nora said matter-of-factly before both females planted hard pecks onto the boy's blushing cheeks.

"EWWWWW!" He shouted, trying to shove them away as they began tickling him beyond words.


It was a rare moment where happiness seemed to grace everyone. The group laughter lightly filled the air as the two warrior women played with the young Grimes and planted two kisses upon his cheeks. And just like that the moment ended as the horror and realization of a small horde of walkers came tumbling into the open Yard.

"Carl!" Lori called out, rushing towards her boy.

"LORI!" Rick screamed from across the outter fence. In a heart beat the Sheriff and Redneck took off running to begin heading back in the direction that would take them to the yard.

It was chaotic. Everything happened in a flash and before anyone could really step back and look at the situation, everyone was gone with the exception of Beth and Jose, who had shut themselves behind a fenced door.

"Where did the others go?" Rick demanded after he had taken care of the handful of walkers that were trying to claw their way through the fenced door.

"Your wife n' kid went that way, ese." Jose responded, gesturing across the yard.

The Sheriff and Daryl began to head in that directino when the sirens began going off in the yard, thus alerting all of the hordes around and in the prison. "What the hell?!" Glenn shouted, covering his ears.

"Why the hell are those going off?" Rick shouted and he lifted his pistol and shot at one of the speakers.

"I don't know, homes. They shouldn't be going off at all!"

"Well how the hell do we turn them off?!" Rick inquired.

"The generator room. I know where." Jose stated, offering his help as he exited the fenced door.

Rick and Daryl followed swiftly behind the Mexican as they started their journey to silence the sirens.


Rick had lost it. There had been a wall in his mind that he had built long ago to keep from breaking. It was what he had done to be capable of doing the things that were necessary for him to lead. To be strong enough to hold the bolder that carried everyone's burdens, including his own. But between all the bullshit that the entire group and Rick had been through, it was enough for anyone to see that cracks had begun to form. Each day had grown increasingly hard for the Sheriff to get up; to put on his brave face and lead the group into believing he was stronger than the rest. That he could muster anything anyone threw his way and that he would not waver or hesitate. His best interest was and always had been the group's safety. Their survival.

A heavy sadness weighed upon the group as the sudden realization of Lori's death hit them all. The sound of Rick's remorseful sobs filling the air was enough to send shivers down anyone's spine. It was heart wrenching. A great sadness that no words could even hope to describe. The pain that Rick felt was nothing anyone could imagine. His wall had crumbled. Every ounce of strength that this man had had been ripped right out from underneath him. Everyone was speechless.

Several long moments had passed before Rick's and the other's sobs grew softer. Daryl squinted his eyes, a sorrowful expression playing upon his rugged features as he stared after the Sheriff. It was evident that this man was in no condition to lead and that meant that the reins were left completely in the Hunter's hands. Without a moment's hesitation, Daryl took a few steps towards Maggie, who now had the new born daughter held uncomfortably in her grasp. "Y'need t' get inside and have'a look at'er. Make sure she's healthy n' everythin'." Daryl spoke quietly. Maggie's mouth opened slightly and then closed as she nodded her head. He glanced over his shoulder at the others. "Best for y'all t' head back inside n' look after the baby. I'll take care'a the perimeters n' make sure no more of those geeks get in." He stated loud for the entire group to hear.

"She needs formula." Maggie cut in, drawing all of their attention upon her. "She'll die if she doesn't have any soon." She sniffled lightly.

Daryl shook his head in denial. "Nuh-uh. Not today. We already lost enough." He strapped his crossbow over his shoulder. "Glenn, you n' Jose go on n' check the perimeters n' make sure it's all safe. Nora, you look after Beth n' Maggie. Michonne, I'd like ya to come with me for back up. We're gonna make a run into town. Alright, y'all know what to do! Let's get this shit done!" They all nodded their heads in agreement to the Redneck before moving to do as they were told. Daryl stood where he was as he watched the others disappear to go take care of one another before he turned around to see Carl was the only one who hadn't moved.

The Sheriff was still seen off to the side on the ground, hugging himself, incapable of finding the will power to bring himself to his feet. The young boy still appeared been numbed by the whole experience to Daryl; his face an emotionless mask covered in cold tears. The Redneck's brows pulled together as he slowly approached the boy, his hands shifting to hold his crossbow more firmly. "I need ya t' look after your father. Think ya can do that?" Daryl inquired, uncertain of if this was the correct approach. All he knew was that Rick wasn't getting up any time soon and it was unsafe to leave him there by himself without someone to look after him. The boy finally met the Redneck's gaze and gave him a stern nod. The Hunter clamped his hand down upon Carl's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before he moved away from him, with Michonne closeby. The two climbed upon his motorcycle and exited the prison. (lazy post ender.)


Of course, she understood Daryl's incentive in leaving her behind to play the babysitter. It wasn't as though Michonne could be fully trusted with the group yet and she was sure he would much rather have a character with a hidden agenda constantly under his watch as opposed to leaving her with his group.

She understood. It didn't mean she agreed with it.

Lenora Molly Brannigan was hardly the motherly type. She hadn't been exposed to kids all that often. She'd never babysat, never had a little brother or sister and never had any close relatives who actually wanted to bring their kids over. Nora was good with Carl because she'd watched others with him and learned how to handle him. Of course, there were stories she could tell him, but she couldn't do that with a newborn. A newborn wouldn't know the first thing about wielding a sword. A newborn wouldn't do anything except cry, sleep, puke and poop everywhere; they had to be handled with a gentleness that Nora barely understood and they could give their position away to walkers at any given time.

They were a weakness; a severe disadvantage in times like these. But as everyone gathered around the newborn, seeing hope, Nora wanted to believe that this child could be some sort of holy sanctuary of innocence.

She couldn't. Not just yet. Her worries of having a starving baby with strong lungs were stronger than her happiness that it survived in general.

"She's so pretty." Maggie's younger sister cooed as she smiled at the wee thing. Nora studied it from afar, her gaze completely blank. The young blonde noticed. "You wanna hold her?" She approached Nora, almost forcing the child into the Irishwoman's arms.

Nora backed away, holding her hands from her body. "No!" She exclaimed, avoiding it as though the infant's vulnerability was contagious. The blonde stopped, giving her a disheartened look. "Keep 'er away, lass. Might be great wit' combat an' battle tactics, but I don't do kids."

"Aw, c'mon, Nora. You're so great with Carl. Can't y'just give her a chance?" She moved forward again. Nora stumbled back, almost tripping over her own feet.

"No, wee Niblet." She said, her tone more stern and cold. The girl stopped in her tracks.

"Nora, what the hell is wrong with you?" Maggie snapped, looking to her friend through her tear-soaked eyes. "It's just a baby."

"Shuddup, Farmie, I know what da hell it is! All y'folks can 'ave yer little Koombaya session wit' da wee bairn, but make sure I take no part in it. Doona come cryin' ta me when she attracts all th'deads in t'area wit' dem lungs." Nora snapped finally before she shoved past the crew and made a quick decision to hunt for more possible provisions.

Maybe finding Rick and Carl would help her clear her conscience.