"Eve."

I stopped mid-step on my way to the kitchen and turned to look at Rick coming down the stairs. "Can I see those notebooks you made again? I want Hershel's weigh in."

I nodded and pointed to the living room, taking a detour to it. Rick followed me over to my spot next to Daryl's.

My knees cracked as I crouched and dug into my backpack and found the notebooks I've made all my lists in.

"There you are." I stood up and spun on my heel finding Hershel at the entryway to the living room as I handed the notebooks over to Rick.

"I was just gettin' the books from Eve."

Hershel nodded in understanding before looking around Rick at me. "Would you like to join us for this conversation."

Ya know, that sounds like a question but it really isn't. That's like some crazy super power that grandparents/elderly have. The ability to make you do things by pure seniority; phrasing it like you have a choice. I mean, there aren't many reasons I'd refuse Hershel but it's still crazy white-beard voodoo chiz.

I followed the two upstairs to the room right across from the one Daryl & I had our talk in.

It's a sort-of office thing. More like a study room. There's a comfy little couch under the far 4 pane window, nice view of the backyard. A desk and a table on the wall next to it, lots of bookshelves and some highschool/college level textbooks on the shelves along with a lot of other reading material. It's a decent sized room. The pale green paint on the walls is fading but it's not a bad shade actually. I kinda like it. It reminds me of grass, natural grass.

If I hadn't raided that bookstore before, I would be inclined to slip some of these into my backpack.

Too bad I can't take them all.

"So first thing's first, I wanna talk about runs. Starting with a new system of how we communicate. Now," Rick looked at me as I pulled myself up on the desk. "I've seen you and Daryl using whistles to signal each other."

I nodded.

"I wanna implement the same system through the entire group. The quieter and less distinguishable we are, the better."

Not a bad idea.

"This is a lot of ideas." Hershel looked at the notebooks, wise eyes wandering over the pages as he picked one up and began turning them. "We should keep the changes simple, one at a time. Won't be of any use if we can't adapt them quickly."

"Alright, seems like we've got things pretty well in hand." Hershel nodded, finishing his list of the things we've decided to reorder.

Rick nodded going to push off the table he's leaned against.

"Wait a moment, Rick. There's one more thing I'd like to discuss before we finish." Hershel clasped his hands in front of him. The way most older gentlemen do when in a formal setting. You know the one hand on the wrist thing? No? Kay.

"Rick, you need to talk to your wife."

Rick rolled his eyes harder than a teenager getting lectured by his parents. "Hershel— we don't need to talk about this."

"No, Rick. You do. It'll only get worse the longer you leave it. Things like this are like a wound. Leave it undressed and it'll fester." Hershel pat his grimy shoulder (pun not intended) and exchanged nods with me before heading out and back downstairs.

Well this is awkward. I was hoping to stay out of this particular wound.

"What do you think?"

I quirked an eyebrow.

"You've been awfully quiet about this thing with me and… her."

I'm always quiet, but the fact you can't even say your wife's name is concerning.

"Do… do you think we can come back from this?"

"You'd be surprised what people are capable of when they're in pain."

"That's not an answer." He shook his head.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes it is." Oof why did that sound so childish? Like siblings arguing.

Rick sighed through his nose, pushing against the table.

Am I frustrating you? Good. Are we done with this awkward conversation or are you gonna make me get involved in your marital issues?

I watched him for a minute while he wrestled his own brain. Rick, my friend, you are your own worst enemy.

"I didn't say it would be easy." I gave him a hint since he's not getting this. "No one else is gonna say this to you, so as usual—"

"You will." He looked at me with a knowing half-smile and I stuck my tongue out at him.

He smiled, looking at the materials on the desk. "At least I can always count on you to be honest."

'Brutally.' I half smirked.

"Stop chasing the past. We've got no more energy to waste on it. Put your conscience to bed, accept what's happened, and drop everything that isn't of immediate concern. A lot of things aren't possible anymore, readjust your goals."

"Anything else? You want an espresso while I'm at it?"

"No. I want a hot chocolate with a stack of whipped cream as tall as me, with chocolate shavings and a caramel swirl. Don't try to out-sass the sass master, white-belt. You got a long way to go before then, rookie."

Rick smiled, putting his hands up in mock surrender.

"What do you suggest?" He leaned his hip on the table.

My eyebrows knit. "You're gonna have to be more specific, I have a lot of suggestions for a lot of things. If you couldn't tell by those nifty little books there."

"Goals." Rick swallowed, settling in for a longer more serious conversation. "You said readjust my goals. What goals do you have?"

"Me? I only have 1 goal."

He looked at me curiously.

"Find a vat of toxic waste and get super powers. Maybe see how well they work against walkers — I mean no one will be guarding these super secret labs anymore. I could just walk in the front door."

Rick stared at me for a moment before suddenly laughing, failing to keep a straight face.

See? That's better.

"Seriously though. My only goal is to set my sights on the horizon and roll with what I see coming. Improving my chances against what I don't."

Rick nodded, doing that thing where he looks down at his boots with his lips slightly pursed.

"How do you, Glenn, Daryl, all you guys do it? You all keep a level-head no matter what's going on."

"Dark humor. Satire."

Oh he's serious. I sighed. He's too noble to be able to make light of the heavy stuff. He seems to have such a hard time with lightening his heart in general. Poor unfortunate soul, burdened with responsibility.

"I'm gonna be straight with you, Rick. You're not a sheriff anymore. You're a soldier. We all are. Soldiers get blood on their hands but that doesn't mean they've tainted their honor or tarnished who they are."

"They do whatever they have to, to get the job done. You don't have to like it, you don't need to feel guilty about doing what it takes to survive. Even if it crumbles you from the inside out for awhile."

I slid off the desk and got all the way to the stairs before his voice at the doorway stopped me.

"How do you know that? Why do you know that? You always seem so unphased by everything. Why is that?"

I licked my lip and looked back. "You want the truth or you want me to lie?"

He remained silent.

"This is easy for me because it's normal. It's what I'm used to. It's what I know."

His eyes widened. Obviously he didn't expect to hear this from me of all people but surprises are kinda my thing.

"I'm not like you, Rick. I don't have any preconceptions of what people "should" be like, or how life is supposed to go. I had to work for my sense of what's ok and what isn't but I learned fast. I wasn't raised by a nice family who taught me what's good and what's bad."

His forehead scrunched in confusion.

"I grew up with the bad apples. The kids who grew up to fill cells, the ones who pinned it on others, and the ones who were too smart to get caught. People hurting people because they want to is nothing new to me. I even understand why they do it, because although it was for different reasons I've done the same thing a few times in my life."

Rick shifted.

"The people I hurt deserved it, but there's always someone out there who would disagree. People who've never been in those situations. Never seen people like that firsthand. People who think violence doesn't have a place, even to defend yourself or others."

I chuckled, tugging on the wood railing. "You could say we grew up on opposite sides of the fence, you and I. You cuffed people like that, and I … got to the ones who were too smart."

"But I always admired soldiers." I picked at the little flakes of the varnish that are beginning to peel up at the seams. "What they stood for. Why they took up something like that, put themselves through Hell, even knowing they might not come back. That they could end up anywhere, lost and never found — willing to take the risk of dying alone in an unfamiliar thankless place to protect what they care about. The people they love, and the place they call home. I didn't have anyone who'd miss me. so if I'd qualified I probably would've been one of them now. Wandering around, eating people alive."

"Why are you telling me this?" Rick shifted.

I shrugged. Good question. "You asked. And I guess I want you to realize what I've always known because remarkably few people figure it out. And you've been struggling with what kind of person you are now, with red in your ledger."

"Grey is more common than black & white, and you get two choices on what kind of person to be. White on the outside and black as oil inside. Or black on the outside but white in here." My fist gently hit my chest.

"You don't get to be either for your entire life. You're gonna have to do things that make you feel like something you're not, but that doesn't matter. It's the percentage that adds up, and you can end up being either half at any given time, because you're the whole."

"Now come on, I want food." I skipped down the staircase.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed your escape from reality, and I'll see you next chp! Don't forget to Favorite, Review, and Follow for more!

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