What can be said when you finally break? Not a whole lot, honestly.
I broke. Killing Sofia, taking that responsibility from Dad, broke some tiny part of innocence I had left. I passed out and it took me all night and part of the next day to get through the trauma of killing the undead version of a little girl that Carl had been so hopeful would be rescued. Killing her, knowing that Carl would lose what sparks of faith he had left, it ripped me apart.
When I came to, Daryl was watching over me in our tent. His anger at my silence about the barn filled with walkers had passed. His worry was evident, apparently I had been talking while I was unconscious. He said I begged to die. To leave the horrors of our new reality behind. I begged for an end, for something to replace the terror we all lived in.
"Jessi, ya can't," he started, when he told me what I'd been moaning for, "ya can't leave me alone here. Ya can't." He pulled me into his arms, as though holding me together would keep me sane. The pleading voice, the fear shined clearly in his eyes. And I nearly fell apart again.
"It was just bad dreams, Daryl," I whispered, letting him hold on to me for dear life. "Just bad dreams, long overdue." I pulled back so I could frame his face with my hands. "I'm right here, I'll always be right here."
Dad had apparently followed Hershel to a bar in town, with Glenn in tow. They'd brought back more than booze, or the smell of it anyway. A prisoner/hostage, named Randall. He was injured and our resident vet turned survivor doctor helped him heal. Of course there was dessent about what to do about the man. Two guesses who lead the charge for getting rid of him permanently, versus who lead the charge to release him once healed far away and leave him to fend for himself?
Of course the plan went to shit. Why wouldn't it? This was the new normal wasn't it? That you make plans and the world works against you to make sure that it all turns to crap. Shane and Dad tried, apparently, my dad's way. Neither would go into too many details about what happened, but they both looked like shit when they got back. And Randall was still with them, so another issue.
While they were off on their field trip that made both of them look like they'd gone ten rounds with each other, Hershel's youngest daughter, Beth tried to kill herself. First she'd gone comatose (who could blame her, I did too for a bit?), then apparently Andrea got the brilliant idea to give her the choice. Thank God, according to Lori that Beth changed her mind, and it wasn't too fucking late. Lori told me that Andrea made some snarky comments about her and Shane, but I couldn't focus on that backbiting crap. I was still trying to decide how I felt about being alive in this horror show.
Daryl offered to get information out of Randall. I couldn't look at him when he returned. I couldn't stand to think what he might have done to get any intel out of the man, not when he was wiping his hands of the blood. I focused on the living room rug. I focused on anything other than the voting going on around me about a HUMAN'S life.
Carl, my baby brother, actually told Dad that he should kill Randall. My heart broke when Dad looked at me with the terror I knew was clear on my face. My baby brother wasn't just losing his faith, he was losing his humanity. I sat down on the sofa in Hershel's house and missed the rest of the conversation. Had I sounded like that when I told Daryl that Andrea wasn't going to survive? Had I been that cold, thinking it was pragmatic? What was going to happen to all of us if that became our mindset?
Dale, a humanist if I've ever seen one, voted against. I didn't vote, I wasn't listening. I stood up and walked out of the living room. I walked out of the house. I walked to the porch swing and sat down. I felt so mechanical. Like every movement since waking was just mimicry of what I'd usually do, but that I couldn't feel myself do it. I sat on the porch, ignoring the rest of the group, their voices, their vote. I had to sit it out.
When Dale was killed the next day, by a walker who somehow found our new safe place, I knew that the world would lose to the walkers. That if a man like Dale, kind and human couldn't make it, then what would the rest of us have to offer the gods that set this fucking plague loose on us? His funeral was a blur. So was Carol trying to let me know she didn't blame me for ending the thing that her daughter had become. That Sofia had been dead far before I shot that arrow into her head. That I'd done what needed to be done. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.
I barely noticed when Randall escaped. I hardly took note that Shane was the one who warned them. Not until Dad and Daryl stood before me telling me they were going to look for him did I pay the least bit of attention to what was going on around me. I was still lost in that same fog that I'd woken up to. Even when I laid down with Daryl at night, nothing seemed the same. When Dad and Daryl told me that with Glenn and Shane they'd go find Randall something sparked. A chill. A familiar chill rolled through me, but I couldn't focus on it.
"Don't." I whispered, as they both stared at me. "Just don't. Please." I couldn't say more, I couldn't tell them why, but I knew that when they walked away, even more would change and I didn't know if we would survive it.
DAYS AFTER SHANE'S DEATH, THE WALKER ATTACK AT GREENE FARM
Dad finally told us what Dr. Jenner had warned him about before blowing the entire damn CDC building sky high. He'd waited. Some would argue he waited too damn long, but he'd waited until things were at their absolute worst. The attack, after Carl was forced to put a bullet in Shane's head, the rush from the farm, the side of a freeway, that's when he finally had to tell us. Had to because Carl asked the question no one knew we had to ask. How had Shane turned when he hadn't been bitten? Daryl had a similar question, because Randall had turned as well, and as far as he and Glenn had seen, there wasn't a bite on him either.
And so, when things couldn't seem bleaker, Dad proved they could. Now we knew. People didn't have to be bitten to become a walking nightmare. They just had to die with their brain intact. I looked around the group and suddenly realized that it was even worse, we'd lost more people. Andrea, even if I thought it would happen didn't mean I revelled in it, was gone. Patricia and Jimmy, gone. I blinked back tears. Enough, Jessi, I scolded myself as I watched the others become angry with Dad. Angry with his lack of warning. Enough.
"Enough." I said, loud enough to be heard, not loud enough to get us attacked again. "Just stop. Stop being pissed. Stop being angry with Dad. Stop." I looked up and realized that it had been days since anyone heard me speak. "Does this really change our situation? Knowing that we can all become whatever the hell those beasts are, does it change anyone's urge to survive?" They all watched me. "I can't do this. I can't listen to the anger, and irritation at ONE more fucking thing we can't change."
Daryl slipped behind me to hold me. Offering what comfort he could. "She's right. Don't matter. We still gotta stay alive."
"There's a place for us," Dad said, taking heart in my strength and conviction. "I wasn't sure Jenner was right. Not until I killed Shane." I noticed that Lori wasn't looking at him and I knew that he'd told her before us. "Carl had to put him down." The group grew quiet.
"Rick has honor," Daryl's voice shocked all of us. "I know he ain't lying because I tracked Randall. He wasn't bit. And Shane's story didn't match what we found." My hands linked with his where he'd wrapped his arms around me.
Maggie speaks up to try to get Glenn to leave, that the rest of us aren't for them. Hershel shushed her.
"I killed my best friend for you people, for Christ's sake." Dad nearly roared. I watched my baby brother bury his head in Lori's shoulder. "Maybe you all are better off without me. I say there's a place for us, but maybe it is another pipe dream." I notice that no one seems to be leaving. "No takers? If you're staying, this isn't a democracy anymore." He turned to walk away, and I pulled out of Daryl's arms and rushed after him.
"Daddy?" I whispered once we'd gotten far enough away from the others. He turned and opened his arms. I rushed forward and let him wrap me up like he had from the moment I breathed air for the first time. "Thank you."
"He was dangerous, baby, he was." Dad breathed into my hair. "Lori knows it, but I'm not sure she's gonna forgive it." He sighed. "The others? They need to understand-"
I nodded against his chest. "I know." I breathed in deeply, even through the sweat and blood, he still smelled like my daddy. "I know, I'll try to help you as best I can. And I think Daryl will too."
"Sure will," Daryl's voice spoke quietly from behind me. "I meant it, Rick, ya got honor. Bastard lied about too damn much." He stayed a distance from us, letting me and Dad comfort one another for a moment. "Gonna be hard, gotta find somewhere before winter, and definitely before your next little one comes."
"I've got the two of you," Dad answered, releasing me and smiling at Daryl. "Should be a hellava help."
