Chapter 35

Four weeks. It had been four weeks since the storage facility building collapsed on her mom and Hershel and Beth. Four weeks since Daryl was shot by Martinez and left for dead – how could we just leave him – back at the ruined storage facility. Four weeks since she'd fled the scene with Merle and Andrea and the others. Four weeks since she'd last seen Merle.

Sophia sat on the edge of a small dock, her legs dangling over, her toes just barely skimming the top of the water below. She was lost in thought… torn between trying to remember and trying to forget. So all she heard when Carl came up behind her and said her name was 'Phia.

She wanted to tell him he couldn't call her that, only Merle could. But Carl hadn't even really called her that, he'd called her Sophia, like he always had. Her mind was cruel though, it played tricks on her. She didn't turn, didn't look back at him. He said her name again softly, "Sophia." Not a question, a statement.

She wanted to tell him to fuck off – that's what Merle would say. But Carl's parents were dead now too, and she just didn't have the heart to be mean to him when they were both dying inside anyway. So she didn't say anything as Carl came to sit down beside her, dangling his bare feet over the edge as well. His legs were longer; his toes and the balls of his feet and dipped and disappeared into the murky water below as she watched. She leaned over into him, put her head on his shoulder, and tried to remember why she still bothered breathing.

It was an old campground that they were calling their home now. Sophia imagined when they'd first arrived that it had been a place for kids to stay during summer camp, doing arts and crafts, swimming in the lake, playing horseshoes or whatever. She never went to summer camp back when she was a kid.

Yer still a kid, girly. It was Merle's voice. She shook her head.

When had twelve – am I thirteen now? – become so old, so ancient, that she couldn't even imagine herself being a kid anymore.

You're dead Merle, she thought, the words blank and empty in her mind.

Ain't ya know me better than tha'?

She huffed out a sigh and frowned. She wished it were true. She really, really, really wanted it to be true. A part of her – a small one, shrinking smaller with each passing day – wanted to believe that Merle was out there, still alive, and coming for her. He'd said he'd find her. She'd believed him.

She wasn't sure she believed him anymore.

Sophia was making her way through the camp now, after walking back from the lake with Carl. They hadn't spoken while they sat on the dock, and they hadn't spoken while they walked back to the campgrounds together. The silence hadn't been awkward though. It was comfortable, a blanket of quiet and peace that they let encompass and cover them both. It wasn't a long walk back and it was daylight, so it wasn't scary at all. Not that I'm scared of anything anymore. But when she'd felt Carl take her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, Sophia hadn't pulled away. She'd held his grip, and let herself feel the warmth of his palm against her own. He didn't say anything – not even goodbye or see you later – when they'd reached the edge of the campgrounds, and she'd released his hand just as smoothly he'd released hers – some kind of unspoken and unnecessary agreement between them both. But her heart had felt just the tiniest bit less heavy than it had when she'd gone down to the lake to be alone. It wasn't a radical difference, barely discernable amidst the heaviness that threatened to weight her whole body down, not even just her heart, but she'd felt it… just barely there, the slightest release of tightness and anger and despair. She wondered if someday it would go away entirely. If the loss of everyone she loved and held so dearly to her heart… if someday that loss would barely sting at all. She'd grow numb to it.

Ya won't, the Merle in her head said. Ya won't need ta, girly… 'Phia, I'm comin'.

No. No, you're probably not.

"Sophia," she heard Andrea call out to her and she turned to glance at the woman striding up to her alongside Michonne. They were friends – Andrea and Michonne – and Sophia liked them both. She liked all of the people still left in their group.

But I loved my mom. I loved Merle. I probably would've loved Daryl too, because my mom and Merle both did. Of course, now I'll never know, will I? The Merle in the back of her mind was silent on that one.

"You okay, sweetie?," Andrea asked, crouching down so that they were closer to eye level with each other. Michonne was a few yards away, her back to them, looking out and around at the surrounding woods, her hand always at the hilt of her sword, as if she was waiting – or even looking – for trouble.

She gave Andrea a shrug because she didn't want to talk about it. It wasn't Andrea's fault. It wasn't anyone's. Except maybe whoever it was that started this whole walker/zombie/geek/biter/stupid-walking-dead thing. She didn't want to talk to anyone though; she wasn't just singling out Andrea. She didn't want to talk to T-Dog, to Michonne, or to Glenn. She didn't even want to talk to Maggie, who was still all sorts of distraught over losing Hershel and Beth. And she didn't even want to talk to Carl, who she knew understood even without any words between them.

Andrea put her hand on Sophia's shoulder and gave her a small smile. "It's okay, sweetie… or it's not, I guess… but just know that I'm here for you, alright?"

Sophia was nodding as the arrow glided by, just inches from her head, ruffling her hair as it passed, piercing straight into Andrea's neck right at the center before Andrea even knew what hit her. The tip of it clearing all the way through, poking out of the back of Andrea's neck after sliding effortlessly in between two vertebrae and severing her spinal cord, the woman's body flopping suddenly and uselessly to the ground at Sophia's feet.

A/N – Round and round and round goes the spinning wheel of death, where it stops, nobody… I digress. And with that we now officially only have 4 POVs – Carol, Daryl, Merle, and Sophia – because I don't write for ghosts (well not in this story at least). Stay tuned… and THANK YOU FOR READING! Your reviews are wonderful and I'm so grateful that you take the time to let me know your thoughts on the story.