Dad disappeared again not long after Judith was named. A part of me wanted to follow him, to try to get through the veil of grief he was covered in, but I knew that I had new responsibilities now. I had Judith to take care of, and Carl to keep an eye on. Not to mention being the mediator in our group, keeping everyone in some form of contentment.
Maggie and Glenn decided another run was necessary. Judith was going to need more of everything, and to be honest, I think the two of them needed a beat on their own. Daryl, usually the first to volunteer for anything that took him away from the rest of the group, seemed to sense that I needed him close. While they went looking for supplies, he took Carl and Oscar to clean any left behind walkers that Dad may have missed.
Hershel and Beth kept me company. The former veterinarian turned all around healer, seeming surprised by how easily I took to being Judith's main caretaker.
"You look like you've been doing that your whole life." He was smiling at me, standing and trying to get used to the crutch that would be his constant companion now.
I grinned back at him. "I have." My answer is simple, and pretty damn truthful. "Or at least since I was six years old." I could feel the strain of holding my smile at the very reminder of Carl's birth. How Lori had shown me how to hold him. How driven I was, even at six, to learn everything I could about taking care of my baby brother. How proud I'd been to be given any responsibility for him. How happy I'd been to even have him, and Lori in my life. "She's as big as Carl was, but luckily I'm slightly bigger now too." I kissed her soft head.
"You think you and Daryl-" Beth began, but without looking up I can tell that Hershel has cut her off with a look.
Looking up at my two companions, I nod. "Yes, I do." Funny, I thought, now the answer comes so easily and naturally to me. "Not yet, but one day."
Hershel wanders away eventually, testing the crutch, or maybe he's feeling like exploring. Leaving Beth and me together, and I wrack my brain to remember a time that the two of us were alone. She's a sweet girl, a little too sheltered, but I can see the reason that Carl is drawn to her. She sings, usually Tom Waits songs, which helps keep Judith on an even keel. She also is the first to offer, aside from Daryl or Carl, to help me with her. Which, even in the few days that my sister has been in our care, is a great deal of help.
"Did you babysit much? Before, I mean." I asked her, as she took Judith from me to give my arms a rest.
She smiles and nods. "Yeah, when I could. I've always loved babies." Beth's attention is on Judith, and I feel certain that my baby sister is safe.
When Hershel comes back, I can see that there's an issue. Kissing Judith and telling Beth I need a moment, I pull him toward a quiet part of the prison, within sight of his daughter and my sister, but where we won't be overheard.
"Your father," he starts and my heart clenches. "He's fine, at least physically, Jessi. But, he, well he thinks he's speaking to another group on one of the prison's telephones."
I'm trying to make sense of what he's saying. Dad's hallucinating? Or is it a hallucination if it's simply noises? "How do you know he hasn't made contact with another group?" I know it's farfetched, but I NEED to know that Hershel checked. That he has proof.
"I picked up the phone, Jessi." He was somber, knowing that this was one more added burden to my current pile. "It was static, honey, there wasn't anyway that he'd made contact."
I nodded, feeling like I was close to breaking. Dad was the leader here. He had to be strong, but what if, what if we'd asked too much. What if he'd taken on too much? What if he was broken beyond repair? Would I have to step between my baby brother and my dad and make sure that Carl didn't do another mercy killing?
"I wanted him to talk to me, to talk through it, but he won't." Hershel continued, and then I heard shuffling coming from the direction that Daryl had taken his group to clear the prison. There he came, cradling a very weak Carol in his arms.
Hershel and I rush forward, helping Daryl with her, getting her food and water. Daryl's hand touches mine and I can see the relief he felt at finding her. One less person to memorialize. One less person to regret losing. I smile at him and take Judith from Beth's arms, letting her take over with helping her dad. Standing next to Daryl, feeling his arm wrap around my waist to hold me and my sister closer, I know that he feels this is a major win. And I share the feeling, but it's tempered by the knowledge that my dad is somewhere giving in to the demons of grief.
