When June heard the explosion, she had a surreal moment thinking there was a car crash. When she was eleven, she was walking to school in the morning when a car suddenly skidded across her path. It was far enough that it wasn't even close to hitting her, but she had never forgotten the sound of metal slamming and wrapping around a concrete building.

The booming sound of the impact echoed down the halls as she ran out. Adrenaline and fear had kicked in, feeling as though freezing water was poured down her spine. Bella and the others had left an hour ago, making it noon. It was glaringly bright outside, and it momentarily blinded her as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

The rest of the prison residents were gathered beside the inner fence, all crouched and tense as they looked out towards the forest. She ran up besides Daryl and Carl, looking in shock at the new crowd of people that were along the outskirts of the outer fences. She briefly thought they could've been walkers, but they stood too still. Then she noticed the cars and the freaking tank. And standing high above everyone else was the man they haven't seen in a long time – the Governor.

June's never actually seen the Governor up-close before. The closest she's ever been to him was when he tried to storm inside the prison months ago. June was one of the people along the walkways who shot from above.

She'd always thought about how remarkably normal he looked. He didn't look particularly evil or psychotic. He could've been Bella and her's neighbor once upon a time. But the way he looked at them now made the back of her neck prickle.

"Rick," the Governor called out, his voice steady. As if it hadn't been almost six months since they last tried to kill one another. "Come down here. We need to talk."

Rick shook his head slowly, the disbelief on his face shaking off. "It's not up to me. There's a council that runs this place."
"Is Hershel on the council?"

June's breath caught on her throat. From the distance, she could see a tied-up Hershel being brought out from one of the cars. One of the men forced him onto his knees.

"Or Michonne?"

Dread began to fill up June.

"Or how about Bella?"

Seeing her mother being pulled out of the car, hands tied and so far away, instilled fear into her heart. She cried out, stepping forward besides Daryl as she clenched her hand around the chain-link fence.

All three of them appeared otherwise unharmed. And also remarkably unafraid. She could see all the way from here how Bella jerked her elbow away from the man who led her to the front. How all three of them held themselves up straight and sure even when brought to their knees.

The pressure in her lungs forced her to give out heavy, shaky breaths that she'd been holding in. The way the Governor strolled out towards the three made her nauseous – head held up high with nothing to stop him.

She could hear the strain in Rick's voice as he tried to keep his rage in check, "I don't make decisions anymore."
The Governor shook his head. "Not today."
Shrouded in heavy silence, the group looked back at Rick, who, with a clenched jaw, stood up tall and swung the gate open with a surety that slowly seeped into the rest. As Rick made the trek across the field – where Daryl, Bella, and June had lounged upon not two hours ago – June felt a nudge against her arm. Stiffening, she looked to see that Daryl holding up a rifle to her. She saw the others slowly and discreetly passing around guns and ammo, silently preparing for the battle they all knew was likely to happen.

June didn't think about the lives that could be lost in this battle. She thought about those who could live – Hershel, Michonne, and Bella. It's why her hand was steady and unhesitating in accepting the rifle. She could see the same look on Daryl's. His hand was clenched white on his own rifle – a heavy duty automatic that was not meant to hold back. His head was low and shoulders tense, like an animal about to attack to defend its own.

He glanced towards the field – where Rick had just made his way across – and June could see him zero in on Bella. She was looking towards them, and while she was too far to tell for sure, June knew Bella was looking at her.

June barely looked down at the rifle as she mechanically opened the chamber and filled it with ammo. She could hear the others do the same, the bullets clinking against each other innocently like bells.

She could hear Rick's voice imploring the Governor to see sense. But almost everyone knew this was inevitable. This was the endgame.

Daryl appeared back at her side, a heavy duty automatic in his hand. He was squinting out towards the fence as he spoke to the group in a low, tense voice. "As soon as bullets start flyin', June, Maggie, Beth – y'all get those who're still inside. Take 'em to the bus. If y'all see things goin' south, leave."

June scowled. "I'm not leaving her."

He glanced down at her. "Neither will I. But you need to get the kids – get Judith – outta here."

"I'm coming back as soon as I do."

Before Daryl could object, the Governor suddenly strode to one of the cars. They watched, paralyzed, as he pulls out Michonne's katana. He treaded in forbidding silence before holding it up to Hershel's neck. Hearing Maggie and Beth cry out, June felt a chill under the hot Georgian sun.

Rick's voice broke out, alarm creeping out. "All of us – we could all live together. It doesn't have to be like this. We could all live together," he repeated. "In peace. We are all stronger against the dead out there together."

He stepped up, spreading his hands. "It's not too late."

They were all too far to hear the Governor respond, but June could see him looking down at the katana in his hand. She could almost see the katana lower ever so slightly. She could hardly breathe.

June felt like she was watching everything in slow motion. It's not like they were all right next to the Governor or Rick. They could barely hear what was happening. All they could see was the Governor – who stood so far – raise the katana and swing it down.

Maggie's scream rattled June to the core. Red bloomed from Hershel's white collar. He swayed for what felt like the most agonizing seconds in June's life before falling forward.

Stunned, the group stared in horror at what was the most brutal act they've yet seen in this world. They were quickly sent into action once bullets began to fly. June raised her rifle and began to aim towards the men. Her heart felt like a jackhammer and her breaths came out sharp and quick. But her aim never wavered. It wasn't until everything blurred that she realized she was crying.

While she aimed towards the Governor, she tried to keep an eye for Bella. June saw her and Michonne immediately duck down during the gunfight, but she lost them almost immediately. She could only pray that the men there were too overwhelmed by the gunfight to pay attention to them.

June was jarred out of her focus when Daryl roared beside her, "Go now!"

Maggie yanked on her elbow, her face white with streaks of tears running down. Her voice was trembling, but Maggie still managed to keep herself together enough to say, "We have to get the others."

As June ran with her, she passed by Carl. The younger boy could only nod to her, never faltering as he joined Daryl and the rest in the fight.

As Maggie headed to Cell Block C, June ran into Cell Block D. People were already scrambling with their belongings. She ran by every cell yelling orders to get to the bus.

"Go now! If they get it, leave us behind!"

She saw Lizzie holding a car seat with Judith in it. Putting her hands on the girl's shoulders, June spoke to her seriously. "Get her to the bus. You and everyone their must protect her."
Lizzie nodded, her face pale but solemn. It comforted June to see clarity in her eyes. If Lizzie, a little girl, and Maggie, who just lost her father right in front of her eyes, can be strong now, so can June.

After alerting everyone, June ran up the steps to her and Bella's home – their little dinky cell filled with photos and covered with paint.

Tears began to run down her face as June desperately gathered essentials. She could hardly think, and the adrenaline was causing her hands to tremble. But she managed to grab her journal, Bella's leather jacket, and priceless photos and shoved them in her satchel. As she ran out, June didn't even have the time to look back at the wall of sunflowers she had finished that day.

How could she when the sound of gunfire was getting louder and closer?

It was clear that the gunfight had moved inwards. Slinging her bag around her abdomen, she placed her rifle at the ready as she sprinted out as quickly and cautiously as possible.

Kicking the metal door open, she waited a split second beside the door. She saw the sunlight stream in from the outside, but no shots towards her. Quickly peeking over, she sprinted out into the open crouched low.

Immediately, someone had spotted her and began to shoot. She lunged over behind a column, waiting for a split second before returning the favor. Darting back behind, she could see wood splintering off and flying in front of her as bullets began to drill against the column.

Bracing herself, she began to shoot back before bursting into a sprint towards where she last saw Carl and the others.

Turning the corner, she saw a raised gun and hardly thought as she raised her own and pulled the trigger.

She had a strange sensation of knowing that person would be dead before her finger had fully pressed the trigger. She knew that she had killed this person – this woman – in front of her before the bullet had touched her skull.

It would later be disconcerting for her to think about how this woman was the first person she's killed. Even more unsettling would be how June didn't even slow down or glance back as she ran. If she did, maybe she would've seen the young man – a teenager around her own age - staring in horror.

But she didn't, so she ran forward. Only thinking of her mother, Daryl, Carl – her family.

Walkers had already entered the compound. They added another source of chaos to the gunfight as both sides fought a losing battle. It was clear already that the walkers would win the prison, but still, the bullets never stopped.

Panic crept up her throat as she began to realize that she couldn't see anybody. Everyone had seemed to have disappeared. She could hear the gunshots but could only see the walkers.

What if they left her behind in the chaos? Her hand began to tremble ever so slightly as she shot the walkers down. They were beginning to converge onto her, so she continued to do the only thing she could – run.

She ran towards the Patio where the picnic tables had been toppled over their sides as a makeshift shield. Bullet holes littered the wooden surfaces. Some bodies were prone on the floor, blood sickeningly stark against the cement.

Not knowing where else to go, she headed towardsthe gunshots. If Bella was with her, she'd be positively aghast with June's thinking. She'd probably tuck June away in a corner and handle it herself, like she always does.

But Bella wasn't here. That thought echoed in her head repeatedly, causing her nerves and awareness to heighten even more.

At least she thought so. Somebody yanked her arm roughly, pulling her behind a dumpster. As soon as she fell back, bullets embedded themselves against the metal with loud, cankerous bangs.

She instinctively moved to punch whoever the hell just grabbed her, but she almost cried with relief to see it was Daryl.

He had a very different reaction. "The hell y'doin' here," he growled as he whipped around the corner to send more bullets towards the others.

He didn't even bother waiting for a response. The walkers had followed June and the gunfight and were cutting them off – making the only way out was towards whoever was hellbent on shooting them down.

"C'mon," he grunted. He lunged forward towards an eager walker and embedded his knife into its temple. He caught it before it fell, hefting it up in front of him.

"Stay close," he called out.

"What the-"

He yanked June with his free hand, pulling her behind him before rushing forward towards the shooter. June recovered quickly enough to aim her own rifle and pull the trigger, causing the man to duck down. As soon as they reached him, Daryl threw the walker on top of him and took the chance to stab him in the head.

Daryl didn't even glance down to look back at the man. Instead, Daryl and June began to run.

"Where are we going?" she called out, glancing back towards the walkers, towards the prison – towards home.

He sensed her hesitation. Voice tired, he said, "We gotta go."

She was going to argue – they haven't even seen Bella. But the walkers were staggering towards them, forcing them out the fallen fences. And then she realized Daryl was heading towards where Bella was the last time they'd seen her.

When they approached the abandoned vehicles, June slowed down first. Her skin prickled and felt cold under the early afternoon sun. Daryl glanced back towards June, who had turned unnaturally pale. "Stay here."
June anxiously looked back towards the walkers, who were quickly gaining ground. It felt like ages until Daryl turned back up. Face grim, he just said, "She ain't here."

"And Hershel?"

His jaw clenched, and June noticed how his own face was pale. "C'mon."

The panic rose as they entered the forest. Her cold skin turned hot, and her hands began to tremble. It was pathetic, she thought. But the not knowing ate at her. Knowing that June and Daryl could be heading the complete opposite direction from her and the others made her want to scream.

But all she could do was keep one foot in front of the other.

It was a silent agreement that her and Daryl stopped using their guns. It would only attract more walkers. It was protocol – a way of survival - for whenever one had to leave the prison.

Anytime something had burst through the trees, Daryl or June – mostly Daryl – would take care of it, hardly stopping a beat as they continued to run.

A flicker of movement caught her eye – and June had her knife up in a heartbeat, Daryl his crossbow.

But June saw the wonderfully familiar flash of green eyes and immediately propelled forward.

"Oh my god." Bella's voice was faint, her relief and wonder evident.

June didn't say anything, burying her head in her mom's neck. When she finally let go, she saw Bella's watery eyes. Blood was splattered on her cheek – but she was the best thing June's seen all day.

Daryl met her in a tight hug. June could see his shoulders sag, letting his own exhaustion and relief be visible in a rare moment. He let out a shuddering breath. When Bella pulled away, she pressed a hand to his cheek. Bella looked up at him, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed as she wordlessly asked him a question.

He put a hand on top of hers, nodding. He looked at her and June, a newfound look of determination and hope in his eyes. Gesturing them to follow, he led the way.

It was only an hour later, when they finally took a break. The whole time on the move, Bella had a hand on June's shoulder and hardly ever left her side. She would stand slightly behind to take the rear position of the group. The three had hardly spoken, with them unquestioningly following Daryl's route – which, as far as June could tell, seemed to just be heading as far from the prison as possible.

When June sat down against the trunk, the ringing in her ears from her blood pounding began to slowly fade away. Head down on her knees, she breathed in deeply as she tried to slow down her heartbeat. Sweat stuck to every inch of her body.

As everything began to become quiet again, she could hear the birds. The sound of flowing water. Bella and Daryl, who were sitting beside each other across the clearing, spoke in low murmuring voices.

"We could go back," Bella offered, but there was a hint of uncertainty at the edge of her voice.

A pause. "Nah. Place is overrun, and not with just walkers. If people made it out, they're long gone to who knows where."

"We can't abandon them."
His words were firm, but his voice was soft when he spoke to her. "We ain't. But all we have is each other, and that's all we need right now."

June pushed herself up, pulling a canteen out of her bag. "I'm going to get water."

Bella made to get up, but June waved her down. "I'll be close. River is right over there."

She could feel Bella's eyes on her back as June went through the trees.

June just needed a break. In less than two hours, the world she's been living in had flipped over – again. Tears pricked her eyes. But whenever she shut them closed, all she could see was Hershel's blood spilling out all over his front. The way he swayed, before falling over so heavily. Maggie's scream.

Nauseous, she bent over. Falling to her knees, she placed her shaking hands in the cool water.

Before today, she's never really scene murder. Not like that. And before today, she wasn't a murderer.

Christ, she couldn't even remember the woman's face.

She felt the coolness of the water flow over her skin as she dipped her canteen in the river. She could only hear the water and the animals. She could see the streams of light shining through the trees – straight lines of gold piercing through the thick foliage. A flicker of a squirrel's tail. A June bug buzzing along the river.

The back of her neck prickled. Hearing the faintest rustle – cloth sliding over skin - she had her gun up in a heartbeat. The pearl encrusted handle felt cool and familiar.

A boy – almost a man – stood a couple yards away. Practically June's age, he had a small amount of baby fat on his cheeks, unintentionally softening his currently threatening stance. His gun pointed at her chest, his hand didn't tremble despite his harsh breathing.

June felt a wave of calm go over her. This wasn't like this morning where people had shot at each other aimlessly and ruthlessly, even when it was clear neither side would win the prison. This was just him and her - and the sun, the birds, and the river. She wondered if this was what Bella felt like in times like this – distended.

She stood up slowly, her own gun never wavering. Her heart beat was fast but steady, and her eyes never strayed from the boy's eyes.

They didn't say anything – just simply looked at one another. She didn't have anything on her. She had left her belongings with Daryl and Bella, and unless this boy had more people with him – which was unlikely considering she would've heard Bella and Daryl fighting back – he wasn't here to rob her.

This was something different. The certainty in the boy's eyes – the way he scanned her face, taking her in – made her know that this was what he wanted. He had been looking for her and was going to kill her.

Her grip on her gun tightened, finger hovering over the trigger.

"You killed my mom."

Instantly, it felt like her blood turned into ice. The nausea crept back in as she stared at the boy's face. As she processed the words, a pause lingered in the thick air.

"Shot her right in front of me."

That was like a kick in the lungs. His hollow voice made it even worse, and the way he looked at her with resignation. It was like looking at a dead man – someone who knew they were going to die – even though he was the one who held the gun.

It would be so effortless to pull her trigger. He might be quicker. She might die. But she likely wouldn't – not if she moved first. She could kill him, and it would all be over. The walkers would come, so her, Bella, and Daryl would have to move even more. But they'd all be alive.

But a thought snuck in and lingered – like a whisper. Carl.

He had been a position like this. He had run into a boy in the woods and killed him. But not exactly like this. The boy had been giving up his gun, not raising it. Carl, June knew, shot him in cold blood. She understood it in a way. Better safe than sorry, right? But there had to be more than killing. That can't be the only way to survive.

This? This would be self-defense. No one would bat an eye if they heard why she killed the boy in front of her.

But she didn't want to kill – not again. Not when it came with the nausea. The hollowness. Indifference.

Looking at him, she knew part of the reason he came here was because he likely knew he would die in the process. He simply didn't care, or maybe he even wanted it.

It was all of this that ran through her head in seconds. It was why she lowered her gun to her side, even when his didn't waver.

"I'm sorry." Her voice sounded far, far away. "It shouldn't have been like that."

He didn't even blink.

June saw a flicker behind him.

Bella had her arrow already notched in her bow, aimed and ready to embed itself into the boy's head. Daryl was close behind her, his own crossbow erected.

The boy tightened his grip on his gun. He didn't lower it as he turned his head slightly to the side, now aware that he was outnumbered. But June didn't think that mattered to him.

"Mom, don't."

Unsurprisingly, Bella didn't look away from the boy, or lower her bow.

A low growl emitted from Daryl's throat. "Drop it, kid."

June ignored Daryl. She opened her arms, as if to calm down a wild lion. "None of this should've happened. The Governor – Philip – he's not who he said he was. You have to know that by now."

"But that doesn't matter. It doesn't make what I did to you - to your mom - okay." She swallowed, her eyes watering. "I've never killed anyone before today. Maybe that's the same for you. I just don't want to do kill anymore. I'm so tired of it."

She looked at the boy beggingly. "You don't have to kill either. I wish I didn't."

Maybe, the gun did lower ever so slightly. It reminded her of that point right before Hershel's death: when the katana wavered in the Governor's hands. A flicker of hope.

But the boy whispered something – so low she couldn't hear it. How much she wished she could've heard him, because before she knew it, her ears were ringing from the gunshot.

It felt like a red, iron hot poker stabbed her in the gut. But as quick as the feeling came it was gone. She felt the world tip sideways, and before she knew it, she was on the ground.

If she was in the right mind, she would've said the scream was the worst part. She didn't know if it came from Bella or even herself. But it reverberated in her head, till it and the gunshot became one and the same.

But everything felt unbelievably light. Something dark flickered in front of her. Wings fluttering, the June bug buzzed around before flying away. Her eyes followed it to the sky, where she saw blues, whites, and greens. She could see the sun's rays piercing through the foliage, creating the most wonderful shapes.

It wasn't until her head lolled to the side that she realized she was being picked up. Head turned to the side, her eyes scanned the ground, unfocused.

June saw the boy lying prone on the floor, a pool of dark, crimson blood beneath him – just like the one she left behind. He was looking up at the sky, a tip of Bella's arrow protruding garishly through his forehead. His brown eyes were glazed and unseeing. His black hair was fluttering gently in the low breeze. A drop of blood streaked down his cheek like a tear.

It was then that June remembered what the woman she killed – his mother – looked like.

Her son looks just like her.

June could hear her own mom's frantic voice as they ran quickly through the forest. No doubt that gunshot had attracted unwanted attention. She saw stumbling bodies, but when one of them looked like the woman, she couldn't tell if she was imagining them or not.

But Bella's voice soother her. June remembered when Bella would sing her to sleep. June had problems sleeping when she first lived with Bella. It's an unfamiliar place, the therapist had told Bella, who was just desperate for June to have a safe, normal childhood that she never had herself. But Bella's voice always lulled her to sleep.

Right now, sleep sounded good. Part of June realized that if she closed her eyes right now, she wouldn't open them. So, begrudgingly, she stared up at the sky.

Daryl had set her on the ground. June had no idea how long they'd been moving or where they were. Head propped up, all she could see were Bella and Daryl crouched over her covered in blood – her blood.

Bella was crying and her breathing was heavy, but even now June could see her trying to compose herself as she tried to stop the blood from flowing out of her daughter's body. Her face was pale and the tears were dripping down her chin. But her green eyes were alert and that telltale crease on her forehead was there. She was scared, June saw.

Suddenly, June saw a younger, more lost version of Bella in front of her. June remembered seeing her for the first time after her mom passed away. The agency had just told June that she was going home to a new family.

Bella was wearing just a sweater and jeans – not like the long, colorful skirts her mother used to wear. June hadn't wanted to go with her – she was terrified. June remember clutching the hand of some nameless woman who had worked there.

But the closer June got, the more she saw on Bella's face. June saw she was just as terrified as she was. But she remembered how Bella had gotten down to her knees to be eyelevel with her. June saw how frightened Bella's green eyes were, but how steady her hand was when Bella handed her a necklace.
It was her mother's necklace – the same one June had given back to Bella years later. The same one she was wearing now.

Bella also wore the same fear in her eyes now. It took June a while to realize Bella was talking to her.

"June? Baby, listen to me. June?" Her voice wavered ever so slightly. There was a streak of blood on her cheek. "You're going to be alright."

It took all of June's strength to put her hand on top of Bella's, which were pressed against her wound slick with blood.

"It's going to be okay," mumbled June. Bella's eyes widened. "You're going to be okay."

"No," Bella whimpered, so quiet that June almost didn't catch that. Bella's hands were shaking when they stroked her curls back.

She saw the moment when Bella realized June wasn't going to make it. Bella was never the one to delude herself or lie to June.

How cruel this all was. At the prison, June could've lived. They've treated worst. It wouldn't have been guaranteed – but now that they were away from supplies and security, the chances were next to nothing.

Daryl was on the other side of June. His face was gaunt. June tried to smile at him, but it seemed to have shaken him even more.

"Take care of her," June let out. It was harder to get the words out. "Don't let her run."

Daryl nodded. Satisfied, she looked at her mom.

Feeling something warm and wet on her cheeks, she couldn't tell if it was her tears or Bella's. Voice quavering, June croaked, "It shouldn't be you."

When Bella saw the gun in her hands – the same gun she had given June for her past birthday a sob burst through her violently. Bella pressed her hands on top of June's and the gun, shaking her head violently. "No."

"It has to be me, mom." June squeezed her hands. It was getting harder to think, to move. "I'm not scared."

June looked at Daryl beggingly. "Please. Take her away." June doesn't have long, and she'll be damned if she'll let either of them do it. She won't let Bella carry the burden of killing her own daughter or knowing that Daryl had done it. Bella wouldn't be able to look at him again without remembering, and June can't do that to her.

Bella looked at June in the eyes, her hand on June's cheek. She gazed at her, and seeing the determination in her daughter's eyes, something deep in Bella broke.

Bella pressed her lips to June's forehead. Spots of lights flickered in the corners of June's vision "I love you. I love you."

Daryl gave her one look back, checking with his own eyes that June was sure. Seeing him gather Bella in his arms and guiding her away comforted her.

June couldn't see them. But she felt them there.

Daryl sat on the trees roots, eyes never leaving Bella's silhouette. She was bracing herself against a tree, her forehead resting on the bark.

A gunshot echoed through the forest.

When Bella fell to her knees, Daryl was there to catch her.

Seven year-old June stared at the dark haired lady with wide-eyes. Something about the woman seemed vaguely familiar, but June just couldn't figure out where she had seen her before.

"I'm Bella," she had said. June liked her voice, even if she won't admit it. "A friend of your grandparents."
June frowned - a small child's pout. She doesn't remember them either.

Bella bit her lip before steeling herself. "If you would like, you can stay with me."

A pause.

"Are you going to be my mommy?"

Bella gave her a small, sad smile. "No," she said gently. "But if you want, I'll always be there for you. Take care of you. Protect you."

June blinked at her. She remembered the crash – how her mommy was talking one second and how everything suddenly flew and then stood still.

"Pinky swear?"

Bella stretched her hand out again, the necklace in her palm. "Pinky swear."

June's small hand fit into Bella's, and the two walked out the door into the world together.

Bella sat numb, vaguely hearing the sound of rushing water. Dirt caked her nails from digging June's grave. Daryl and Bella had finished just as the sun was about to set.

Daryl had guided her to a tree stump. She vaguely heard him say something, but she couldn't find it within herself to care.

She couldn't tell if that was seconds or minutes ago. She just knew she started to feel colder as the sun sunk lower. She just knew her daughter was buried in the ground a few yards away.

The world was bathed in warm orange light when Daryl came back. She didn't hear him, but suddenly he was right in front of her. She didn't look at him. Instead she looked out toward the open field, where the sun was sinking bit by bit.

Crouched on the ground, he looked up at her. Not saying anything, he scanned her face as he took her hands.

It took her a while to realize what he was doing.

A strip of wet fabric in his hands, he slowly rubbed away the layer of dirt and June's blood on her arms. Her hands felt frozen in his, but he never waned. Bit by bit, her skin began to peek through.

Looking down, something broke. Not because of the grave's dirt or her daughter's blood. But the paint that had still managed to stay on her skin.

It felt like years ago when it was her, Daryl, and June lounging out in the sun. When June had painted sunflowers – the same ones Bella never got to see in the cell – on her hands.

The yellow petals and green leaves were still on the back of her hands. But now, red stained her hands too.

When she looked up at Daryl, he felt lost. He didn't know what to do, and he's never felt more helpless than now.

No place to go, and it was up to him to protect her.

His motions slowly ceased, and all he could do was hold her hands as she gazed at him with those hollow eyes.