Author's Note: Look at that, chapter fifty already! What a milestone. And there's still plenty more yet to happen! Enjoy! And, as always, please R&R!
xoxo - Holly
"We should not look back unless it is to derive useful lessons from past errors, and for the purpose of profiting by dearly bought experience." — George Washington
Both vehicles had soon veered off from George Washington Memorial Parkway for a number of reasons. While the scenery was nicer, what with the view of the river beside them, it was a more dangerous route. For one, it was closer to the river and anyone on the other side, in DC, could possibly see them driving by and maybe decide to follow after. Secondly, they were headed straight toward the airport and there was doubt in their minds that that would be a complete clusterfuck of walkers and abandoned cars jamming the road. Third, they were more familiar with the route on which they had originally traveled toward DC.
They traveled at a slower pace because, even though they were relatively familiar with the road they were on, they had still only traveled it that one time almost and it was already getting late. The day had been physically and emotionally draining and it didn't take long for them to decide to simply pull over onto the side of the road and call it a night. Judging by the last sign they'd passed, according to the map, they would probably be able to make it to Mount Vernon within a half hour once they woke up the next day and got moving. That, of course, would be if there were no further obstructions, because they would have to deviate from the main route soon enough to reach their destination.
Tyreese had pumped the RV's breaks to signal to Daryl in the van behind them that they would be coming to a stop. When they did, Rick climbed out first and walked over toward the van where he informed Daryl and the others they were gonna stay right there for the night and would head back out as soon as morning broke.
As predicted, the Dixon brothers, Morgan and Michonne all made the best of sleeping in the van while the others inside the RV managed the same. The dinette table was folded down and the cushions rearranged to make a bed, and the couch was pulled out for the same purpose. To be closer to the driver's seat in case they needed to leave in a hurry, Tyreese claimed the couch-bed for Karen and himself while Finn and Jen settled easily onto the table-bed. Blankets and pillows were spread out on the floor to make it as comfortable as possible for both Nicole and Tara who were stuck down there. As for Rick, he helped Sophia and Mika lay down extra blankets and pillows for them on either side of the back bedroom's bed where Jo had, unbeknownst to Rick, cried herself to sleep a short while before.
It didn't take long after his head hit the pillow for Rick to fall asleep as well. He had been so terribly exhausted from the last few days, he felt like he would be able to sleep so hard that not even a bomb going off would wake him.
He did wake up, however, bright and early.
Because of the window blinds Jo had left open, there was nothing to keep the sunlight from shining into the back bedroom and practically burning through Rick's eyelids to his retinas underneath. Grumbling, he rolled onto his right side to face the opposite wall and let his arm drop over the edge of the mattress. When his hand hit something hard, yet soft, he let his fingers feel around for what it was he was touching until a hand swatted his away and a voice whined at him.
"Unnh, stop it."
Popping one eye open, Rick shifted over to the edge of the bed and looked down to find he had apparently been poking Mika's face. "Sorry," he mumbled, pulling his hand up and shoving it under his chest.
Muttering something underneath her breath, Mika rolled over, turned her back to him and seemed to easily fall back to sleep. Closing his eyes, finding his own way back into the land of slumber was Rick's goal. However, the more he focused on trying to fall asleep, the more it kept him awake. His mind began to race with remembering where they all were and what the day would entail, and then the remembering they'd found Hope's grave and had buried Shane's remains only the day before began to haunt him. All of that on top of the fact that there was a considerable chill in the air and no amount of curling up underneath the blanket with Jo beside him seemed to warm him up.
With a frustrated sigh, Rick slowly turned over and sat up. Raising a hand to his face, he shielded his eyes from the sunlight coming in through the window so he wouldn't have to squint. At that angle, it at least allowed him to glimpse the time on his watch without having to move his hand from the shade it provided his face. It was about 7:10 in the morning and he found he was actually okay with being woken by the sun. As much as he wouldn't have minded sleeping longer, he wasn't really tired by any means because, doing the math and counting backward, he had gotten about ten hours of sleep. In fact, judging by how quiet the rest of the RV was, everyone else was getting some proper rest, as well.
Doing his best not to wake Jo up as he shimmied down the mattress and stood up, Rick stretched his arms straight up and was easily able to touch his palms against the ceiling. Continuing as quietly as he could, Rick bent forward and reached for his boots which he slid his feet into without teetering and bumping into the wall or worse: falling against the pleated folding door and crashing into the RV's living space where he might land on either Tara or Nicole. Not only would he end up hurting one or both of them, he'd never live it down, and Tara already witnessed a klutz move of his once before when he'd taken her with him to find fuel for their broken down bus a couple weeks ago. He didn't want her to have something else she could use to blackmail him with later.
Pushing the pleated door open, gently and quietly, he stepped out of the bedroom and turned to his left where he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror above the sink which sat across from the tiny bathroom; neither of which worked. Shivering slightly, he wondered where his coat was stored and instead just grabbed the last blanket that no one had claimed, that was folded neatly upon of the non-working stovetop. Unfolding it, he threw it over his back and wrapped it around his shoulders as he tiptoed forward, careful not to step on Nicole and Tara as they continued to sleep.
Jen was curled into Finn and, for a moment, Rick's breath hitched when he thought she was dead, but then he remembered it was just how she looked these days. He was certain that she'd gotten some sort of infection her body had been having trouble fighting off ever since Jo had cut her hand off to save her life. While the infection that turned the living into the undead had been thwarted for Jen, at least at this point in her life, he had a feeling she was dealing with some form of sepsis or gangrene. For her sake, and Finn's state of mind, Rick hoped whatever medication Nicole now had could help treat whatever was ailing Jen.
Taking one of the water bottles sitting in the defunct sink and wrapping himself tighter with the blanket, Rick crept with little sound as he unlocked the RV door and made his way out. There was no avoiding sound when they happened but he really did try to put an effort not doing it.
Outside the air was brisk. A breeze had picked up and was carried the smell of fall in the air. Overall, it was a complete change from the last couple of days of heat. Granted, even though it had been hot during the days, the nights were considerably cooler, but this day felt like someone had just flipped a switch. It felt like summer had been sent packing with its tail between its legs as autumn arrived, throwing its weight around to show who was boss now.
Removing the cap from the water bottle, Rick took a hearty swig to soothe his mouth and throat which were dry from sleep. He realized, as he stepped around the front of the RV, that he hadn't grabbed up a single weapon to protect himself with should a threat present itself, but a simple look around showed he would be fine as he was for a little bit. There were no walkers he could see at the moment, even if there were plenty of places for them to be hiding docilely, lying in wait for something or someone to make enough noise to rile them up. Rick faced the opposite side of the road, at a small, business complex of sorts. Housed within it were a few tiny shops, all since abandoned. From left to right, there was an salon, some sort of gift shop that featured metal wall art, an audio and electronics store, an upholstery shop whose sign was missing chunks out of it on the sides, the same as the sign for the Chinese take-out next door, and then, at the very end, a tailor. Beside that building of shops there was a gas station on the corner and, as pointless as it may be, as it usually was, Rick wondered if there was any spare gas around there. The RV still had plenty, same as the van, and they still hadn't needed to use the back-up canisters they filled up after dealing with those two Marauders, but it never hurt to have more; especially if they found a generator. That would require gas to run.
Taking another swig of water, Rick looked up the road a bit. There was a small, two-story, L-shaped apartment building. All the windows to the ground floor apartments were boarded up with plywood, two of the doors had some sort of white sign stuck to them, and there was a couch blocking one of the other doors. From the distance he was at, Rick could tell what those signs said, but the spray-painted messages over the boarded up windows was clear as day.
ALL DEAD INSIDE
Rick seemed unfazed by it, as he was by most things these days.
Stepping around to the driver's side of the RV, he inspected it to make sure everything was okay, before doing the same as he rounded to the back. Turning, he looked over at the van and saw Merle out cold in the passenger seat. Morgan and Michonne couldn't be seen, but that was likely due to them lying down in the van's back rows. Daryl, who had been driving, was the only one he couldn't pinpoint.
"You're up early."
Speak of the devil.
Rick turned toward the wooded area on their side of the road and saw Daryl sauntering over with his crossbow slung over his right shoulder and two, dead squirrels hooked to the game strap on his hip.
"Not surprised that you're the first one awake, though," Daryl continued. "You always have been."
Rick nodded. "Force of habit, I guess." Holding the water bottle out to his friend, he offered it to him. "Want some?"
"Nah, I'm good." Daryl shook his head and began to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
"I would've thought you were out by now."
"I was," Daryl mumbled with a cigarette pressed between his lips before he managed to light it. "I got a pack off a guy in the woods."
Rick smirked. "That was kind of him."
Chuckling as he took his first drag, Daryl blew a billow of smoke out and mirrored Rick's smirk. "Not like he had the choice, being a corpse an' all."
"Well, if he knew he was dying, he could've smoked them all before he took his last breath. Maybe on some level he knew someone would find his body and his cigarettes."
Daryl nodded and held the pack out to Rick. "Want one?"
"I shouldn't."
"That ain't a no," Daryl sniffed.
Hesitating, Rick looked at the pack in front of him and sighed. "Okay, just one."
Turning, he set his water bottle down between his feet and readjusted his hold on the blanket using only his left hand while he slipped out a single cigarette with his right hand. Putting it between his lips, he waited for Daryl to light it for him, and when he did, Rick puffed and inhaled his first drag. He then unceremoniously coughed; not used to the deed. Or, at least, not used to having done it in years.
Daryl chuckled at his expense, but both men fell into a comfortable silence after Rick found his footing, so to speak, with the cigarette. It was like riding a bike, if that bike was a paper stick filled with cancer-causing nicotine.
"How's Jo?"
Rick expelled a plume of smoke from his lips. Holding the cigarette between his middle and index fingers, he pulled it away as he scratched at the side of his nose with his thumbnail. "Sleeping."
Daryl smacked his lips. "No shit. So is everyone else."
"She's okay, I think," Rick shrugged. "We've had a month of wandering around, not knowing where Hope is and assuming the worse. I think, to an extent, we were prepared for the worst. We tried not to assume the worst, but it's hard not to. But no amount of mentally preparing actually prepares you for something like that."
"I'm really sorry about it. Hope was an awesome baby. I mean, those first couple of months, she had a pair of lungs on her to wake the dead, which isn't all that hard these days, but she mellowed out. She was a great baby. Rarely cried or whined. It was like she just knew how the world was, and how it was better to keep quiet." Daryl looked at Rick's profile. He watched the way, when Rick wasn't taking a drag, how he was chewing the inside of his lip instead to keep his focus off crying again. "Sorry…"
Rick shook his head. "Don't be."
Hating the awkwardness, Daryl changed the subject. "So, how do you think Mount Vernon will be? Lost cause?"
Rick shrugged. "Fuck if I know," he muttered, taking another drag. "If this kind of weather keeps up, we'll need to find someplace secure sooner rather than later."
"Yeah."
"I think I misjudged the time of year. I was thinking maybe we were in September, but I think we're in mid or late October." Rick sighed. "It's so hard to tell anymore these days. All the days, and apparently months, blend into one another."
"Well, we ain't in Georgia anymore. This is Virginia. It gets colder earlier the further north you go."
"Yeah, I suppose."
"Maybe it is only September."
"Maybe it's November."
Daryl chuckled. "I should probably get started on my Christmas shopping. It's a nightmare putting that shit off till the last minute."
Rick laughed at that, and it felt good to do it.
He tried to remember what Christmas shopping was like. He remembered Lori took care of getting everything for Carl well in advance. She'd have all his gifts put on layaway back during the summer and have it paid off before Halloween. She'd even have gifts for Rick and the rest of their family—and that included Shane—taken care of, too, well before December rolled around. Rick, on the other hand, was one of those clichéd fathers darting around Wal-Mart, a day or two before Christmas, depending on what shift he was working, grabbing anything he thought Carl and Lori might like. Sometimes, because he hadn't consulted with Lori in advance about what he was getting for their son, Carl would end up getting double of something and Rick would sit there on Christmas morning, feeling like a damned idiot while Lori expertly gave Carl some excuse that he had been such a good boy all year long that Santa wanted to give him something extra. More often than not, though, Rick and Carl ended up donating the duplicate, or duplicates—because sometimes Rick unknowingly went that extra mile and bought more than one of the same thing Lori had already got.
It was like another life now.
All that happened a million years ago, and it happened to someone else.
At the sound of the RV door opening and shutting, Rick panicked and tossed his cigarette away like a teenager about to be caught by his teacher behind the school. Blowing out the smoke from within his mouth, he crouched quickly down and picked his water bottle up; taking a swig just in time for Tyreese to round the corner toward the back of the mobile home.
"Hey," the larger man greeted, adjusting the beanie on his head while simultaneously gripping onto a roll of toilet paper. "I was just gonna go take care of some business. Afterward, I think we should start getting everyone up, have some breakfast and get moving. We should make the most of daylight. The days are—"
"—Getting shorter," Daryl cut him off. "Yeah, we were just talking about how we think it might be October instead of September."
"Well, damn, I thought we'd been in August."
Rick snickered. "Go lay a few bricks. I'll start rustling up the sleeping beauties."
"You packing?" Daryl asked. "Don't wanna be caught by a walker with your pants 'round the ankles. That's a surprise you don't wanna receive."
"I got my gun." With an amused smile and a nod of his head, Tyreese patted his sidearm and then turned to make his way over toward the side and disappeared behind the shrubbery.
Daryl began to chuckle. "Lay a few bricks," he repeated as he took his last drag and flicked the remainder of his cigarette away. "I ain't ever heard that one before."
"My dad used to say it," Rick replied. "Alright, well, I'll be back out in a little bit to discuss the rest of our route after I get everyone up."
"Sounds good."
When Rick stepped back into the RV, he found Karen was already awake, sitting cross-legged on the couch-bed with her hand up under her shirt where she was using some sort of moist toilette to wash her armpits.
"Morning," she greeted nonchalantly.
"Morning."
Finn and Jen were stirring already, and Nicole was at the kitchen sink with a water bottle and some sort of pill, making her way over toward Karen when she stopped so she wouldn't smack right into Rick.
"Oops, sorry," the nurse muttered with a smile. "Morning, Rick."
"Morning." Narrowing his gaze at the pill, he nodded at it. "What's that?"
"Prenatal vitamin. I found two large bottles for Karen and Jo."
"That's awesome. Thanks."
"Just doing my job," Nicole quipped. "When Jo wakes, tell her to come take one."
"I will." Stepping up beside Tara's body as she continued to sleep, flat on her back with her mouth wide open, Rick smirked. With the toe of his boot, he gently bumped it against her hip. "Wakey, wake, eggs and bakey."
"Bacon?" she mumbled before she properly woke up. Snorting back some morning phlegm, Tara finally opened her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows. "Aww, man, don't tease me with the thought of bacon like that. That's just…wrong. So wrong."
"I'll try not to do it again," he chuckled as he continued on toward the back of the RV.
Pushing aside the folding door, he was struck by the sight of Mika lying beside Jo, where he had previously been, and how Jo had rolled onto her side to hold the girl to her. Sophia, in typical teenage fashion, was also still very much asleep on the floor next to Jo's side of the bed. Walking around to where Mika had originally been sleeping, Rick leaned over the girl to touch a hand down upon Jo's arm.
"Hey," he whispered. "Babe."
Jo sniffed as she began to stir. "Hmm."
"It's about seven-thirty. We're all starting to get up now," he informed in a low voice. "We're gonna have something to eat and hopefully head on out within the hour."
"Okay," she mumbled. Whether or not she actually heard what he'd said was anyone's guess.
"Jo. D'ya hear me?" he asked, making sure.
"What?" Her green eyes slowly popped open and she looked up at him, squinting at the brightness in the small room as Mika stirred beside her.
"Time to get up and eat so we can head out soon," he repeated in a more condensed version.
"Oh, okay." Gingerly sitting up, Jo looked around to remember where she was, and then her face seemed to take on a slight expression of sadness and Rick knew why. She was remembering the day before. "We don't really have breakfast foods, but canned fruits will probably work best. I'll get some cans open for the girls."
"Oh, and Nicole has a prenatal vitamin for you to take."
"Okay."
Brushing some of her hair off her forehead for her, Rick leaned closer over Mika to Jo and smiled. "Morning, love."
Jo smiled a small smile. "Mmm. Love you, too."
Heading back out of the bedroom, Rick began to search for his coat, eventually finding it shoved in one of the duffel bags stuffed with clothes he'd tossed into the shower stall the night before. He also pulled on his utility belt where his Colt was already holstered. While Jo came out of the bedroom and migrated to the cupboards in the kitchen, Rick was trying to remember where he'd left his machete; eventually finding up front alongside the passenger seat. Before long, it seemed everyone was in each other's way in such a confined space. Karen hadn't bothered putting the couch-bed back up into just a couch. Instead she was joined by a tired Jen; both women curling up side by side under a blanket to keep warm as the chill in the air was still permeating within the RV as much as it was outside. Tara had also, literally, gotten up and was assisting Finn in putting the table back together, while neither Mika nor Sophia had seemed to stir just yet. But, given all the noise the adults were making already, it was only a matter of time before the pair showed their faces.
And sure enough, not five minutes later, Mika appeared first; rubbing sleep crust out of her eyes. "I gotta pee," she announced to anyone who would listen.
It was generally a rule of thumb, when they were on the road like this, to go to the bathroom in pairs for safety purposes. While one person went, the other kept point; and then they swapped places. Mika knew she couldn't just head outside and up into those woods on the side of the road alone. Someone would have to go with her.
Grabbing her gun off the kitchen counter and holstering it into her thigh strap, Tara reached for Mika's shoulders. "Let me get my boots on and I'll take ya, okay?"
Mika nodded and then ducked back into the bedroom to find her own shoes as well. When she came back out with her worn sneakers on, she was rubbing her arms. "When did it get so cold?"
Rick, who hadn't yet put his coat on, handed it to her. "Here. Put this on."
"It's too big," she remarked, taking it anyway.
"It's just for now. We'll find warmer clothes for you and Sophia soon enough."
Slipping the coat on, the girl was practically swimming in it. The sleeves were too long for her hands to reach out the holes and it hung mid-thigh on her. Tara looked her over and laughed before scanning the countertop.
"Where's the toilet paper?"
"Tyreese has it," Rick answered.
"Where's Tyreese?" Finn asked.
"Taking a shit."
Tara and Mika still headed outside, opting to wait alongside the RV for Tyreese to return and then take the toilet paper for him so they could have their turn in the woods to do what they had to do. Jo was still at the counter, busying herself with opening cans of fruit, of which they had plenty for the time being, and passing them to those up inside the vehicle. When Sophia finally appeared and slipped into one side of the dinette table, propping her head up as she struggled with waking up, Jo slid a can of sliced peaches in front of her.
"Do we have pears? I'm not a fan of peaches so much." Finn, sitting across from her, slid his can over—which was pears—and took her can instead. "Thank you," she muttered shyly, looking down into the can and jabbing one of the pear slices with the fork she had also been given by Jo.
The RV had fortunately been already stocked with bowls, plates, cups and utensils, so the group hadn't needed to take those things from any of the three townhouses they had cleared.
Soon enough, literally everyone was inside the RV having something to eat. That included Daryl, Merle, Morgan and Michonne, too. After eating, and after everyone had taken turns going to relieve themselves in mother nature, they went over the map once more to determine the route from there on out. Being no more than ten minutes away, with a virtually simple path ahead of them to take, there wasn't too much to discuss except for what they'd do once they arrived, but even that would be decided once they got there.
While the Dixons and Morgan returned to the van, Michonne remained in the RV; taking a seat on the couch-bed next to Jen where she, took, curled up under the blanket with them.
"Too cold in that van last night," she muttered.
"Didn't you have any blankets?" Karen wondered.
"Yeah, but I had to open a window to air the van out because Merle's gas is worse than the dead."
Tyreese chuckled as he returned to the driver's seat. Before Rick took his place in the passenger's seat to play navigator again, he looked around to make sure everyone was accounted for. Karen, Jen and Michonne were on the couch-bed, keeping warm under the blanket and more or less just staring off into space as they waited to get going. Tara had slid into the dinette booth beside Sophia and was pulling out a deck of cards again to play some sort of card game while Finn stared out the window, muttering about how there was no use getting into a game since they'd be at Mount Vernon soon enough. Tara shrugged, saying something to the effect of how it was better than just staring at the wall, watching paint dry.
It was Jo who was missing, and Rick was able to easily assume she'd returned to the back bedroom.
"Give me two minutes," he said to Tyreese.
Stepping through the RV and into the back bedroom, he found Jo lying on her side on the bed, facing the same window from yesterday. Crawling up the mattress, Rick lay down beside her and threw an arm over her waist; seeking out her stomach where he settled his hand.
"Hey," he whispered, leaning his head to the crook of her neck and kissed it.
Before he could ask her how she was feeling, which was a question he already knew the answer to, he felt her body tremble. His first thought was that she was just cold and shivering, but then he heard her failed attempts at holding in her sniffles. As Jo laid there, the little spoon to his big spoon, she began to cry more easily when she felt him hold her closer against him.
"I know," was all he said. "I know."
Closing his eyes tight, he was able to successfully keep his own tears at bay for once. It was just easier to avoid focusing on his grief and instead on anything else.
"I had this image in my head, of finding Hope alive and us raising her alongside this baby," she eventually muttered, as she covered his hand with her own and pressed it against her stomach to let him know she was referring to their unborn child. "I was doing the math, trying to figure out how many weeks it's been since we lost the prison and before that to when I think we conceived this baby, and I think I'm nine weeks pregnant, because nine weeks ago we had a really great day."
"Remind me," he urged, bringing his lips to her shoulder and then just resting his chin there.
"I don't think this baby was a slip-up during one of our shower escapades," she whispered, not needing anyone in the front of the RV to hear her. "It was that day you took just me on that supply run to that rundown doctor's office in Greenville. You found that entire box of condoms in the back of a cabinet, but then we realized they were nearing their expiration date and didn't think it wise to bring them back with us for others to use. We didn't want anyone to take that risk."
Rick smirked. "But we risked it."
"Twice," she specified. "But the second time, we were so caught up in the moment, we didn't bother with a new condom, and you had already removed the first one. I can't remember if you pulled out in time or not, and I'm thinking you didn't."
Thinking back on it, and how the first time with the condom, they'd done it on top of a desk and the second time on the floor. "I don't think I did either." Realization struck him more fully. "I didn't. I came, and then I remember thinking 'oh shit' and slid out and then we kinda just laid there for a while, talking about nothing important."
"You delivered Hope in an infirmary and knocked me up in a doctor's office."
Rick snickered, noting that Jo's tears were subsiding for the moment. Moving his hand up under her shirt, he merely brushed his rough fingers against the skin of her stomach. "I wonder where this one will be delivered, and where the next one will be conceived."
"Normal places might be nice. We have Nicole, so if we can set up some sort of medical room wherever we end up, be it Mount Vernon or someplace else, the birth will actually be ideal. The next one…" Jo shifted around and Rick leaned back to give her room as she rolled onto her back and stared up at him. "It's strange thinking of a next one when this one isn't even here, and with losing Hope."
"I know," he agreed, sitting up and glancing toward the closed folding door; knowing Tyreese was waiting on him to head back up front. "When I lost Carl I never thought I'd be a father again, and then you came along and had Hope, and then I was. Now we've lost Hope, but we have this new child coming in about seven months, or about six if you go early again. For me, it feels like every time I lose a child, I gain one. I'm not liking that kind of cycle. I'd rather just gain the children and then that's it. I mean, our children are supposed to lose us first, not the other way around."
"I hope the cycle of losing ended with Hope," Jo muttered, her face becoming grievous. "I can't handle another loss like that. I'm never going to get over it to begin with."
"It gets easier, but it still hurts every day."
"I'm still sorry about the things I said to you yesterday when we got back to the townhouse. Sometimes I forget you lost Carl, too, and you're going through all this a second time," she remarked sadly. "I forget you had a life before me."
Rick emitted a slight chuckled. "You trying to say my life was nothing until I met you?"
"Wasn't it?" she questioned with a teasing smile.
Bringing a hand to the side of her face, Rick looked her in the eyes and smiled back. "I've missed that smile," he cooed, leaning forward to give her a kiss. "It makes me feel less sad and angry." With a sigh as he sat back up, he dragged his hand down to her shoulder and once more to her stomach. He looked almost guilty. "I gotta leave you alone back here for now. I told Ty I'd only be two minutes."
Jo nodded. "Go on," she ushered, silently assuring him it was okay to go; that'd she be fine. "Go navigate this ship."
Leaning down again and giving her one more kiss, Rick forced himself back up and left the bedroom.
Turning her gaze away from having watched him leave and up to the closed skylight in the ceiling, Jo placed her hands over her stomach. She was finding it difficult to look forward to this new baby and be happy about it when she was grieving Hope. All she wanted to do was lie there and cry for days, but that was hard, too, because Rick and her had more or less spent the last month trying to accept the fact that it was likely she was already dead. They hadn't seen her or held her in a month, and not having seen her die, and not having been able to bury her themselves, made this entire grieving process feel…incomplete. Seeing the grave wasn't the closure they needed, and they would never truly have that closure now.
Maybe it was just better to sweep it under the theoretical rug and simply force themselves to focus only on the future. After all, the past was the past and there was no changing it. There would be no saving the child she lost, but the child growing within her needed her now and she didn't want to risk its life. If it meant she would stay confined to the RV to keep out of further harm's way, then so be it. If it meant never letting it out of her sight and becoming an overbearing, overprotective mother once it was born, then so be it.
Jo refused to go through this pain again.
Once was enough, which made her admire her husband so much.
He was going through it a second time and he was managing it better than her.
She wished she had his willpower. She wished she could be as strong on the outside as he seemed to her.
Maybe someday she'd get there.
Right now? Not so much.
"Is this it?"
Rick was standing up and leaning forward with his hands upon the dashboard of the RV, staring straight out the window at some sort of four-way intersection near the entrance to Mount Vernon. On the right side of the road, which they were on, countless vehicles were abandoned there, either in the lane designated for parking, or up on the curb. Several yards back there had been a parking lot filled up with plenty of abandoned vehicles.
Rick looked over his shoulder at Finn, who had asked the question, and nodded. "Yeah, I think so."
"That's a lot of vehicles and no people," Tara remarked, leaning on the back of the passenger seat.
Standing up, Jen moved around Finn and stepped between both Tyreese and Rick and get a better glimpse out the window. She was, after all, the only one in their entire group who had been to Mount Vernon before and knew its ins and outs, for the most part. "There's more parking up ahead," she announced. "That's where I remember our bus parked."
As the drove at a snail's pace through the intersection, Rick looked out the right side passenger window and noted two gated off entrances; one of which had the word 'PARKING' and an arrow pointing forward leading to it. Moving forward, the RV and the van behind it came to a sort of roundabout which some sort of parkway merged onto. On the right was a drop-off lane, while the left was the parkway. As the roundabout continued to curve, the drop-off lane veered off into the parking lot Jen had likely been referring to. However, it was blocked up with too many cars, trucks, vans and buses alike. Looping around a second time, Tyreese brought the RV to a stop on the parkway in front of a white building, designated by a white sign as "The Shops at Mount Vernon."
Even the parkway, before it merged with the roundabout, was packed with abandoned vehicles, making it tricky for Tyreese when he maneuvered around it.
"Alright, so, we're here," Finn remarked, stating the obvious. "Now what?"
"We get out and sightsee?" Tara quipped.
Rick stood up straight and let his right hand hover over his Colt, tapping it slightly. "What other reason could there be for this shit ton of vehicles, and yet no bodies?" he reiterated Tara's comment from earlier. "I don't remember seeing even one corpse sitting in a car or a truck parked along the roads. I see no bodies anywhere. These cars and trucks and buses, even; aside from some dust and leaves covering them here and there, they're immaculate. They haven't been touched in a long time. It's like no one has been here since the beginning."
"Maybe a bunch of people gathered here and got into one of those buses, and then took off together," Karen suggested, having stood up and began to lean behind Tyreese's seat.
"Why not just keep on traveling in their own vehicles?" Tara wondered. "This many, and not one had spare gas to syphon from?"
"Maybe it was a safety in numbers thing?" Jen suggested. "Better to travel together in one larger bus than separate in multiple cars."
"Or maybe they're all dead."
Everyone up front turned around and looked at Sophia who was still sitting across the dinette table from Mika.
"Okay, there, Negative Nancy," Finn teased.
The teen shrugged. "Well, it's possible."
"Alright, we'll take a few of us—and I mean just a few—and we'll make our way onto the grounds to check the estate," Rick informed. Turning around, he moved between everyone crowding around the driver and passenger seats and headed back toward the bedroom, where Jo was still laying. After all, even though Mount Vernon had only been a ten minute or less drive from where their small caravan had started out from that morning, it had in turn only been thirty minutes since they'd done so. "You heard all that?" he asked her once he'd pushed aside the folding door.
"Kinda hard not to," she replied, sitting up. "Who's gonna go survey the area?"
"Myself, probably Daryl, Merle…maybe one other."
"Take Michonne. She's like an actual ninja with that katana of hers." Jo began to scoot down the length of the bed. As she stood up, Rick placed his hands on her elbows to assist her. "You might need her help if you boys get into trouble."
Rick smirked, looking down at her as their nose nearly brushed together. "What makes you think we'd get in trouble?"
"Prepare for the worst, hope for the best," she commented. "Just be careful, and come back to me."
With a nod, Rick lifted his head and placed his lips upon Jo's forehead. "I'll come back in one very alive piece." Leaning back, the right side of his mouth lifted in a half smile. "You can't get rid of me that easily."
"I'd never want to."
"And you won't have to."
Rolling her eyes, Jo gave him a gentle shove to his chest. "Go on, then. Daylight's a-wastin'."
"It's barely nine in the morning," Rick muttered, stepping backward out of the bedroom. "I think we're good on that front."
Within five minutes' time, Rick had left the RV alone, even after Tyreese started to argue a bit about staying behind. In the end, Karen put her man in his place and to let Rick go; that if Rick needed Tyreese, he'd call for him without a second thought. After gathering the Dixons and Michonne, the latter as Jo had suggested, Morgan went to the RV to be with the others so he wasn't alone in the van.
Keeping close to one another as they moved slowly and carefully toward the entrance gates where paying visitors would once buy their tickets to get into the estate, Rick was suddenly reminded of how familiar this all was. It was like when he'd been flanked alongside Daryl, T-Dog, Glenn and Maggie as they took the inner courtyards to the prison their second day there. The latter three were just memories in his life now and he could only hope they'd luck out with Mount Vernon the same way they had with the prison. In fact, this was so much like when they took the prison. The lineup of people within their group had changed, but they had come with an RV like before, and Jo was pregnant again.
Rick hoped this worked out.
Silently, they approached the entrance gate, which had been closed shut, but it wasn't locked. Pushing it open, Rick went first with his machete gripped tightly in his right hand. Daryl, unsurprisingly, brandished his crossbow, while Merle relied on both his prosthetic's blade as well as a bowie knife in his left hand, and Michonne held her katana at the ready. Moving forward, Daryl took his place at Rick's immediate left, Michonne at Rick's right and Merle brought up the rear.
Straight ahead looked like some sort of small, fenced-in field or pasture. The grass was overgrown, as was the case with pretty much every single place they'd ever been to in the last—nearly—two years of this new world. To the right, beyond some fencing and minor tree coverage, was a small building that didn't seem too important to them, while there was a much larger building to their immediate left, billed as the Ford Orientation Center.
Again, that wasn't something of importance to the four of them. They wanted to see the house and the grounds. Not museums, visitor centers or whatever else. On the other side of the field there appeared to be a gate in the fence. Heading through the tall grass, they kept their eyes peeled at all times for the slightest movement. As they reached the wooden fence's gate, Rick pushed it open and stepped out onto a path laid with red brick that led in two different directions. If they went right, they'd surely be led back near one of the other entrances. Heading left seemed to lead in the direction they wanted.
With great trepidation, Rick led them further on, noting the dark green signs dictating what was where. And, as soon as the brick path came to an end, and a dark green sign told them the mansion and other key places on the estate were to their left, they began to move forward until all at once they were forced to stop.
First, it was the smell.
It had started gradually when they stepped clear of the pasture and onto the brick path, but now, as they stood more out in the open, it was like they were hit by a wall.
It was the smell of rotting flesh and overall decay, carried along by a brisk breeze.
The second thing that stopped them…was them.
"Shit…" Rick muttered. His blue eyes scanned to the right, to the large field peppered with what looked to possibly be hundreds of walkers. "Shit, shit, shit…"
"That's too many for just us four," Michonne remarked quietly. "But taking them down isn't necessarily impossible."
"Watch my back," Merle whispered and darted forward before the other three could stop him.
With anxious eyes they watched as the older Dixon crept as silent as the grave along a red brick retaining wall, until he reached the gap in it and looked up toward the direction of the actual house. After a moment, he whipped around and practically ran back to the others. A few walkers in the large field had noticed him despite his seemingly successful attempts at being stealthy and began to meander over, albeit slowly.
"Well?" Daryl egged.
"Crawling with walkers," Merle replied. "I think there's more up toward the house than this field here."
Rick practically blanched at the thought. "How is that—you know what? It doesn't matter." He shrugged, keeping an eye on the walkers coming closer. "We'll just move on. We can find someplace else. Maybe a regular house in a cul-de-sac somewhere; something with a big yard where we can plant crops in the spring."
Daryl frowned at Rick and smacked his lips. "Fuck that noise. We came here to take this place. We took the prison."
"That wasn't crawling with as many walkers. This is four times the amount, and we're only talking the front of the estate. Who knows what the back of the estate or inside the house is like. The prison was minor league and this is major league. We aren't prepared for the majors."
"I think we've been through enough to prepare ourselves for shit like this."
"Lil' brother's right," Merle muttered, stepping back a bit more toward the red brick path with the other three as the walkers got near to them; chomping at air with their rotted arms outstretched. "We can handle the dead. At least this place isn't already claimed by the living. We can clear this place in a few days. We'll take out as many as we can, a little at a time."
Rick looked between the brothers, and then at Michonne who was nodding slightly in agreement. After a beat, he sighed. "If we're doing this, it's gonna be all hands on deck."
"Doesn't have to be," Michonne remarked, stepping forward as the first of several walkers got too close for comfort. With a single upward swing, she sliced through its head like a warm knife through butter. As the body and the top half of the walker's body fell and crumpled toward the ground, the foursome began to back up further.
"Alright, careful," Rick urged. "Let's not draw any more of them near us if we don't have to. We finish off these ones and then we run back to the RV and gather the others. We need to work this out before we move forward any further."
Walking backward on the red brick path, the walkers straggling after them seemed to have alerted others and the amount of walkers coming after them had grown more than they'd planned on initially dealing with. They hacked and the slashed and they quickly worked up a sweat despite the cooler air. Having speed on their side, they turned and darted in the direction of the field before any other walkers could realize which way they'd gone. They didn't slow down until they reached that main entrance gate, either, and when they did they shut it. Before stepping away, just to play it safe, Rick had Daryl help him carry a bench over to place in front of the metal gate as an extra deterrent. It was a pointless effort, only in that the gates opened inwardly and if walkers reached the metal gate, they wouldn't have the dexterity or knowhow to pulled at the metal bars of the gate to pull it open. Had the gate opened outwardly, all they would have to do is push forward with the weight of the bodies.
Catching their breaths, the foursome looked around at each other before sauntering back toward the roundabout where the RV and van were parked. Rick entered first; his curly hair clinging around his face from the sweat he'd already accumulated. The other three followed in right after him and everyone was at attention wondering what the 411 was.
Rick took a seat on the couch-bed beside Jen, leaning forward and still holding onto his machete which was covered in dark, sticky walker blood. After a moment, he sat up straighter and looked around at all the faces staring back at him as he began to explain the situation.
He threw out two options: either they hightail it out of there and keep looking for someplace else to make a home in, or they stay and fight for Mount Vernon.
"We're already here," Tara shrugged, leaning the small of her back against the kitchenette counter. "I say we fight for this place."
"We're talking hundreds of walkers, and that's just what we could see at the front of the house," Rick reiterated. "That's not taking into account what the surrounding property or inside the house might look like."
"So we clear a little bit at a time, like we did at the prison," Jo spoke up, standing there next to Tara with her hands on her hips. "A little bit each day until it's ours, completely. We'll stay inside the RV until we can make it to the house." Eyeing Rick when he looked over at her, she added adamantly, "We need this place. We need a home."
Holding her eye a little longer, Rick nodded. "Alright. First, we gotta clear that front field."
And that's what they did.
With the exception of Jen who stayed behind with Mika, as usual, everyone else took part in clearly the front field, pairing up in twos or threes with blades at the ready. Grabbing two benches planted on either side of the end of the red brick pathway, they quickly carried it over to the gap in the retaining wall to help keep those walkers congregated on the Bowling Green contained. Nicole and Karen, stayed with the benches. In the event that any walkers got to close and were about to tumbled forward, blades would end up jammed into a few eye sockets. The rest spread out a bit more, only taking on those walkers that got closest first.
"Let them come to you," Rick ordered. "Don't go looking for trouble."
Finn and Tara kept Sophia by their side, Merle stood with Tyreese, Jo with Michonne, Rick with Daryl, and Morgan seemed to go between pairings where needed. With twelve of them in total to fight off the walker threat in the large field, the task went by quicker than they could've hoped for. After almost an hour, they were down to their remaining dozen and no one had had any close calls.
Of course, it was always best to never count your chickens before they hatched.
Allowing herself to find comfort in using the massacre of walkers as a temporary release for her grief and anger, Jo turned and smiled over at her brother and Sophia after decapitating a particularly disgusting walker. Distracted by looking around to see how the others were faring, Jo didn't see the overweight female walker approach her until it was almost too late. Turning, in the nick of time didn't entirely work in her favor either. Throwing her sword up, she sliced downward across the walker's chest, spraying her own clothes with foul-smelling blood. Having not been successfully put down yet and undeterred by the wound to its chest, the walker pushed forward and grabbed onto Jo's arm. In a frantic attempt to get free, Jo jerked her arm back with enough force to slide her arm out of the walker's grasp but also with enough force that she fell backward onto the ground like an overturned turtle. Before she could roll away or jump back up to her feet, the walker had dropped down over her and a struggle ensued.
By that time, Michonne had noticed her "slaughter partner" was no longer by her side. When she called out to Jo in fear, Rick turned his attention their way and kicked away the walker he'd been dealing with to give himself some extra room.
With perfect swing, Michonne lobbed off the head of Jo's offending walker, allowing its body to slump, unmoving, upon Jo. While Michonne stuck the end of her blade into the walker's skull to end it completely, Jo continued to just lay there as blood seeped from the severed neck onto Jo's chest, her own neck and her hair. Rick took care of his walker with a simple hack job at its head. Before it dropped to the ground like a sack of coal, Rick had made his way over to Jo to help Michonne move the body off and then pulled Jo up to her feet.
"You okay? Were you bit?" he questioned nervously, carefully looking her over.
"I'm fine," Jo assured, feeling understandably gross.
"What happened?"
"It just took me by surprise. It came up in my blind spot while I was checking on Sophia." Noting the way Rick still looked worried, she placed hand on his arm and looked him in the eye. "I'm fine, Rick. Okay?"
Meeting her gaze, he nodded.
As they both turned and looked around at the field before them, the amount of dead walkers lying in the grass was staggering.
"No time to stop now, I say," Merle called out to any who would listen. "It's not even midday yet and there's still more of them fuckers to deal with on the other side of that wall."
Some had fallen over the wall, given how low it was, but Nicole and Karen had been able to manage to take care of them before they found their way back up to their feet. Surprisingly, both benches remained in place and only three walkers from the Bowling Green had managed to tumble forward over either bench. Again, Nicole and Karen handled those walkers, too.
After they'd lain waste to the last of the field walkers, Team Family gathered together in a clump as they caught their breaths, while physically and mentally preparing themselves for the next jaunt.
Yanking on the side of Jo's shirt, Rick got her attention. When she looked away from the Bowling Green and up at his face, he moved his hand up to her shoulder and squeezed it. "You're at my side with me this time."
With a calm expression upon her face, Jo nodded compliantly. "Always."
After two hours and three temporary retreats, Team Family had taken the immediate area of the Bowling Green. While the Bowling Green was smaller in length and width than the large field, it had openings to other parts of the estate which had brought walkers out of the woodwork to follow the noise and movement. While there were still some stragglers after all was said and done, for the most part, the group could finally catch their breath. There had been no injuries sustained, no one got bit. Finding themselves already tired and sore was the only issue. They had each moved quickly and precisely; never allowing more than two walkers to come upon them at a time. If they needed to, they took steps back to give themselves a wider berth. The three times they had to retreat, all they did was run back out toward the field and waited; letting the walkers spread their numbers thin as they headed for the field as well. Three times the group did this, and three times it allowed them the chance to push back stronger and harder.
Once they'd reached the circular lawn in front of the house, they could see there were two lanes; one on their left and one their right. The lanes ran between smaller buildings that were likely kitchens, or stables or storehouses; places that were important to the running of an estate like this two centuries ago. Two of those buildings were connected to either side of the house by colonnades.
As unkempt as the grounds were, there was no doubting the estate in general was still beautiful and didn't seem to be in any sort of disrepair.
"We got more coming," Merle announced, looking toward the North Lane on their left.
"Nowhere near what we just finished taking down, though," Tyreese added. "Thank heavens for small blessings."
Daryl sidled up beside Rick. "Let's check 'round the back of the house real quick—see if that's as bad as this shit was."
With a nod to his friend, Rick looked around at everyone else. "Maintain the front lawn. Keep doing what we've been doing," he told them. "Let the walkers come to you."
The group broke up into two halves of five as Rick and Daryl darted away toward the colonnade to the right that connected the house to the kitchen, according to a small green sign beside the door. Merle and Tyreese stood side by side directly in front of the North Lane, hacking at the first wave of stragglers that came toward them. Michonne and Finn did the same in front of the South Lane to the right. The rest divvied themselves up around the pair. Jo, Karen and Morgan joined the pair at the North Lane while Nicole, Tara and Sophia joined the pair at the South Lane.
At the colonnade, Rick leaned on the railing and looked out at the lawn on the other side of the house that looked out at the Potomac River. While there were a few dozen walkers standing aimlessly about or trying to make their way toward the ruckus being cause on the front lawn, to Rick, it felt like their group had just moved a mountain. They were nowhere near finished with clearing the estate of walkers, but the bulk of them had no doubt been dispatched with already.
"We could take this all by nightfall," Rick grinned, slowly moving his eyes from riverfront lawn and over to Daryl. "We're gonna make all this ours."
Daryl nodded and grinned back as he patted Rick on the arm. "Well, then let's finish what we started."
With renewed vigor, Rick hopped over the railing of the colonnade and sprinted through the overgrown grass to attack every nearby walker; going against his own advice of letting the walkers come to him. Daryl wasted no time in covering him. He'd taken out two walkers with two bolts and then tossed his crossbow over his shoulder in order to make the leap over the railing of the colonnade. Weaving around a few walkers to retrieve the bolts he'd fired, the archer reached for his weapon again backed up against Rick on purpose so that they nothing could come at them from behind.
When they hadn't returned to the front lawn after a decent amount of time, Jo felt uneasy by the lack of Rick's presence. She broke away from her group and dashed over to the same colonnade the two men had disappeared over with her sword weighing heavily in her hand while she maintained her gun fastened safely in the holster on her hip at all times. With the autumn sun beating warmly down on them, the brisk morning had given way to a warm afternoon, but the cool breeze off the river seemed to cancel the warmth out on the back lawn, what with no large home to block said breeze. Having worked up a sweat over the last few hours, the air hitting Jo's face and arms felt refreshing. And, seeing that Rick and Daryl seemed to be faring rather easily with the walkers around them, Jo was able to breathe easily, too.
However, she couldn't bring herself to just stand there and watch.
Looking back at the two groups finishing up with the walkers coming out of both lanes, and that Sophia was equals parts protected by her group and managing to carry her weight, Jo temporarily sheathed her sword into the scabbard on her back and pulled herself up onto the railing. Climbing over carefully, she swiftly dropped down and hurried over to Rick and Daryl while unsheathing her sword once more in the process.
Glancing over to her, Rick very nearly frowned at first until he realized it was his wife.
He knew that their group had stronger, better fighters than Jo, but he knew that despite that, if he was in a fight to the death with either the dead or the living, she was the one he would want at his side.
"How's the front looking?" he asked as he created enough of a gap between him and Daryl for Jo to sandwich between them so that, even as a trio now, they maintained their backs to each other.
"It's looking like you," she quipped.
"Tired and disgusting?"
"No," Jo snickered. "It's lookin' good."
Daryl rolled his eyes and smacked his lips. "Get a room already," he teased, but in a tone that suggested he was trying to be serious. "Fight now, flirt later."
"Love you, too, Daryl," Jo remarked, throwing him a brief look over her right shoulder even though he didn't see it. The way she noticed his cheek move upward slightly, though, meant he must've found what she said somewhat amusing.
"Yeah, right back atcha, Mama."
Being able to leave behind her grief for a while and focus on playful banter and killing walkers felt just as refreshing as the cool breeze off the water. Jo smiled happily as she lifted her sword and swung diagonally at a walker's head; lobbing it off its neck like she were Arnold Palmer teeing off.
With the exception of a few stragglers still wandering around the grounds here and there, the main threats in the large field, the Bowling Green, the front and south lanes and the lawn facing the river had been squash after a total of almost five nonstop hours. Everyone soon gathered 'round the back where Rick, Jo and Daryl were and found momentary rest upon the wooden Windsor chairs scattered along the piazza.
"I'm so fucking thirsty right now, I just might run down to the river and drink it dry," Finn commented, slouching back in his chair with his axe draped over one knee.
Everyone seemed to nod in agreement.
"I'll tell you what," Morgan spoke, "After today, I will definitely sleep like a baby tonight. My body is not used to that amount of nonstop crazy."
"All in a day's work," Merle quipped as he pulled a flask out of one of the pockets in his cargo pants. Placing it between his thighs, he could only use his left hand to uncap it before lifting it up with the same hand to knock back a swig.
Rick turned and looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. "Where in the hell did you get a flask?"
"I've had this baby for ages," Merle replied. "Never leave home without it."
"What's in it?" Tara inquired; the only one not sitting in a chair. Instead she was lying on the piazza, on the flat of her back with her knees bent upward. While one arm rest across her stomach, the other was underneath her head, which she used to lean up slightly to look over at the older Dixon. "Anything good?"
"You consider Jack good?"
"I'd consider anything good at this point."
"Here." Getting up to his feet, Merle reached over and handed the flask to Tara.
"Thanks." As she sat up a little more, she wiped the top off a little on her sleeve and then took a gingerly sip. When her face instantly puckered, Merle laughed. "That's not Jack."
"It might be a few other things mixed in."
"Ew." Tara handed the flask back and began smacking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Is that Jaeger and…what else is that?"
Merle snickered as he sat back down. "It's equal parts Jack Daniels, Jagermeister, peach Schnapps and Jose Cuervo."
"Damn," Tyreese muttered, and making a face of disgust.
"It was all I could find hidden away at that professor's office back at that university. I took what little was left in each bottle."
"All those bottles were in that professor's office?" Michonne wondered; wiping the blade of her katana with a dirty cloth she'd had sticking out of her back pocket this entire time. "That's what you were doing while we were ransacking those cabinets in the other room?"
"I found some meds, too," Merle defensively insisted.
"Yeah, Chloral Hydrate," Nicole muttered.
Rick glanced at the former ER nurse. "I'm assuming that's not a good drug?"
"Yes and no. It's a sedative used for treating sleeping disorders and sometimes to relieve anxiety."
"Shit, why ain't we all taking it, then?" Daryl muttered, lighting up a cigarette. "We're stressed and barely sleep as it is."
The conversation fell into a lull as they all stared off toward the back lawn, scattered with dead walkers in the overgrown grass. A couple of walkers could be seen nearby in either the locust grove to their left or coming from the direction of the wharf and the gardens to their right. Most seemed obscured by trees. Above them, the sun was already lower in the sky, indicating sunset would already be upon them in just a few short hours.
"We should head back to the RV," Jo announced; the first to finally broach the subject to calling it a day. "We've left Jen and Mika alone long enough without any of us heading back to check in on them or let them know how we've been managing." Standing up, she removed her sword from where she had shoved it into the grass a few feet away to avoid having it strapped to her back while she'd been sitting. "Let's go back, get cleaned up as best as we can, have something to eat and drink, and then call it a night. Tomorrow we'll get an earlier start. We have more of these grounds to cover and the inside of this house as well."
Rick watched her as she stepped up and dictated to the group; every bit the queen to his king. He smiled up at her; a small smile, but full of admiration and love.
At first, everyone hesitated; not on purpose, but because they were so tired and not moving just felt nice. When Rick stood up, he slapped his hands together to draw their attention.
"You heard the lady. Let's head back," he spoke firmly. Gesturing at the house, he added, "Depending on how much we get done tomorrow, we might be able to move into this place before sundown if we're lucky."
Without any fuss, the group got up to their feet, retrieved any of their weapons they'd set aside for the time being, and then began to walk off the piazza, alongside the colonnade to an opened white gate in the white fence which led directly behind the kitchen building and came out onto the South Lane. At this point, it was easier to head that way than trying to climb over the railing to the colonnade. They were just too tired and achy for anymore unnecessary physical exertion.
The march back to the RV was slow. They walked the path alongside the Bowling Green, paying little attention to the literal hundreds of walkers scattered among the overgrown grass; bodies they would eventually gather up and burn somewhere further away from the house to keep the smell of burning, rotted flesh to a minimum. Stepping through the opening in the retaining wall, and then meandering around the red brick path, they reached the pasture. One by one the climbed over the wooden fence that boxed the pasture in and finally made it back to the entrance gate; quietly trudging along.
Once all twelve of them had approached the RV, Rick knocked on the door first before verbally announcing it was them, as not to give Jen and Mika any cause for alarm.
"It's just us, Jen."
A moment later the door unlocked from the inside, allowing Rick to continue with opening it up.
Mika was standing there, more than ready to greet the others with a big smile until she saw how dirty they were; covered in sweat and dried walker blood. "Ew," she muttered.
"We were starting to get worried." At the dinette table, Jen sat with her back to the window while appearing to be nursing a can of something. Sitting up a bit straighter, she craned her neck to glimpse the others as everyone began to file inside. "I literally just got done telling Mika, not five minutes ago, that after we finished eating I was going to come looking after you lot."
"I'm glad we made it back before you went to all that trouble," Finn remarked, making a beeline for his girlfriend after setting his axe in the sink. Pressing his palms against the tabletop, he leaned forward and sought out a kiss, which she willingly gave. "It was like war out there."
"Is everyone safe?" Jen asked, growing nervous. "No one got hurt, right?"
"Everyone's fine," Morgan spoke in an assuring voice as he stepped up right behind Finn and patted the younger man on the back. "We're just real tired and hungry." Without hesitation, he turned away from the couple and began perusing the cupboards. "Now where's that can of chicken noodle I saw yesterday?"
"Did you kill all the walkers?" Mika wondered, a bit wide-eyed with curiosity, while trying her best to not get in anyone's way as they all piled into the RV and tried finding a seat.
"Almost all of them," Sophia informed her surrogate sister. "We're gonna try and finish tomorrow so we can move into the house tomorrow night."
Mika beamed at the idea. "Awesome."
While everyone began to settle down to simply sit down and eat first, with the goal of cleaning up later, Rick hung around outside a bit longer with Daryl. The latter eventually wandered off to go "see a man about a horse." In other words, he was going to take a piss.
That left Rick, standing outside, hands on his hips as he stared back at the entrance gate before turning to peer off toward the road they driven in on that morning; taking in the sight of just how many abandoned vehicles there were.
"Hey."
Rick turned again, looking up at the doorway to the RV where Jo was standing, gripping the frame with her right hand while her left rested upon her hip. "Hey," he echoed, taking in the sight of her.
She had already changed into a new shirt and cleaned off her arms and face as best as she could. With her hair pulled up in a sloppy bun, she seemed more relaxed already. "I set aside a can of ravioli for you," she said; thankful she no longer had to squint from the sun since it had already become obscured by the trees. "Come inside and eat."
"I will," he nodded.
"You okay?" It was a stupid question. They had been far from okay lately, but it was asked as a kindness, because she loved him and cared about him.
"A little better than I expected," Rick admitted. "I didn't think today would go as well."
"Well, you are the pessimistic one in this marriage," she remarked. When he nodded and smirked at her, she smirked right back. "We already agreed on that once before, if I recall. I'm supposed to be the one with the optimism. I think I've slipped up on that lately, though."
"I think we're entitled to be as pessimistic as we want. After everything that's happened, I'm surprised we haven't been more pessimistic."
"Guess that makes us human."
"Guess so."
The pair stared at each other; the din of forks clinking against the insides of cans and low conversation from within the RV filtering out into the open air. Jo looked over her shoulder at everyone for a moment, and then back at Rick. Casually, she stepped down from the vehicle and, without pause, she placed her hands on either side of Rick's face and pulled him in for a thorough, lingering kiss as the salt and pepper bristles of his beard and mustache scratched gently at her chin and upper lip. After a clouded moment, he instinctively placed his hands upon her hips and snaked his arms around to her back to pull her chest up against his. Their liplock deepened and, for a second, it felt as if their very sanity depended on this specific moment of intimacy. In that moment, they reiterated what they already knew; that they were there for each other no matter what life threw at them next, and that they loved each other strongly and fiercely.
No matter how many bad things they had suffered through and would likely still suffer through, they would have each other, and that was the best thing.
Aside from all their children, and their family, of course.
When they finally broke their kiss, Jo looked at him with a tilted head and a brief flicker of a memory flashed in her mind that made her feel contemplative and happy all at the same time.
"What?" Rick wondered, noting the look on her face.
"Just remembering the first time you kissed me, back at the prison," she replied with the smallest of amused smiles toying at the corners of her mouth. "You were so chaste, and then so apologetic about it."
"You made me nervous. I didn't know how to feel around you. I was…I was struggling to figure it out still."
Jo looked down at his chest and nodded. "So was I," she commented. "I'm glad we got over that awkwardness."
"Me, too."
Leaning in, Jo pressed the side of her face against her chest; not at all disconcerted about how soiled his shirt was. Wrapping her arms around his back to give him a brief hug, she muttered, "You smell." Jo lifted her face and peered up at him. "Go inside and clean up already. Then we can eat."
Stepping back from her, Rick stood there and sighed in silent agreement as her arms dropped from his sides and she gestured toward the RV as if she needed to compel him to go in. "Ladies first."
With a roll of her eyes, Jo simply turned her back to him and walked over to the door. Just as she lifted a leg to take that first step up, Rick reached forward and slapped her ass with the back of his hand. Whipping her head around, Jo neither yelped out or said anything in general. She merely threw him a knowing look and gave him another eye roll.
As he moved to step up into the RV, Rick left the door open for when Daryl returned from taking a piss. Looking over his own shoulder, he focused his attention toward the entrance gate and thought about all that was beyond it.
Today was a good day, he thought.
