Daryl leaving me behind without a word was becoming something of a habit. I tried to understand his reasoning. I tried to put myself in his place. I tried, and I failed, because there was this huge part of me that knew that I wouldn't do that to him. No matter whose shoes I wore, I wouldn't leave the person I claimed to love behind with the uncertainty that saying nothing creates.
Bob had disappeared too. And Sasha, feeling on edge, blames Gabriel. And finally, as though it took simply pushing the right button on the black draped man, he told us his sins.
Gabriel had barred the doors of his church, this church, when the world slid downhill fast. He'd listened as his own flock pounded and begged for safety. He'd listened as they'd died. And he'd sat here, waiting for the divine punishment that he assumed our group was.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Didn't this man answer my father's famous three questions with two no's and a "God doesn't abide"? How did he not realize that he'd killed a mass of people? That because of his own fear, he'd let his own people die.
Hearing a whistle outside, Dad sees Bob on the grass in front of the church. As Bob's being collected, shots ring out. And when Dad comes back inside, he lets us know that we hadn't escaped the terror of Terminus. It had simply followed us.
Bob isn't doing well. And while we can all see that from his recent amputation, when he shows us the bite that he'd been unwilling to show earlier, we know it's a matter of time. He gives Dad as much information as he can about where these animals had taken him, and Gabriel reluctantly tells Dad it sounds like the elementary school to the south of the church within walking distance.
After getting Bob comfortable on the couch in Gabriel's office, Dad forms the attack plan. Abraham bulks, and I feel a burning irritation with him and his fucking pipe dream. I say nothing, not even when Glenn barters with him. Offering Maggie, Tara, and his aid to get Eugene to Washington if Abraham agrees to at least one more day.
That's how, mere hours later, I was enclosed in the church as I watched Dad, Michonne, Sasha, Maggie, Glenn, Tara, and Abraham walk outside. We heard a man's voice, Gareth, I guessed from what Dad and the others and shared. Threats, warnings, bargaining. And Judith, feeling fed up as I did, cried. They breached our doors, and they died. Trapped by Dad's plan. Trapped by their own egos and need for vengeance, or food.
When Gabriel follows me out of our place of hiding, he looks around at the carnage blanketing his church and talks about how it's the Lord's house. And Maggie, sweet Maggie, who I'd watch pray with her family, answered with, "It's four walls and a roof."
Bob had hung on. He knew we'd won. He knew that this latest round of monsters with human faces was gone. And so, we took our turns to say goodbye. Since Daryl wasn't with me, since I had no idea where he'd gone. I said a goodbye for both of us. And as I left the office, left behind another good person who hadn't been able to beat the odds, I wondered just when it would be me? Or Daryl? Or Dad?
We buried Bob. I couldn't create tears, no matter how badly I wanted to. How horribly I knew I should feel, and did feel somewhere deep down inside, yet nothing came. And as I hid my face in Judith's softness, I knew that there was something broken inside of me. I just didn't know what.
Abraham held Glenn to his deal. And since we had no idea where Carol or Daryl were, Dad promised that we'd follow once we knew. He gave Dad a map, the spot marked clearly, and a message that made Dad realize that he was important to the world.
I sat with Michonne on the steps of the church. Dad had taken Judith inside with Carl and watched her with her recovered katana. And as I sat with a woman that I was growing to value more with each passing moment, her silence, her compassion, her care for my brother, I watched as once again Daryl came back. And he wasn't alone.
Daryl's new companion's name was Noah. He had been at the same hospital where Beth had been taken. Where Carol had now been taken. And here he was. Standing awkwardly beside Daryl and I could do nothing but wait.
I waited for the plan. The plan to rescue Beth and Carol. The plan to rush forward to get our people back. The plan that would take Daryl away from me, without a goodbye again, no doubt. With a nice helping of fear and danger.
I knew it would come. I knew where I'd stay. With my sister. Wherever Dad deemed safe. And I'd wait. For word of our success or for word of our failure. Because this was my limbo. My purgatory. Where I sat constantly, waiting.
I didn't listen to the plans. I didn't participate. I fed Judith. I diapered her. I bounced and kept her occupied. I focused on the one person that I could keep safe. That I could keep comfortable and free of the insanity that curled around us ever closer day by day.
As I pretended that I was somewhere else, Daryl, Sasha, and Tyrese fortified the church. Dad and Michonne focused on boarding up the windows. Carl, Michonne, and of course, Gabriel stay with Judith and me. I watch with bemusement as my baby brother tries to explain to our new pacifist the necessity for a weapon for self-defense. Gabriel points to me, using my seeming lack of weapon as proof that wasn't true. And then stops when I lift my shirt and he can see not only a handgun, but a rather large knife.
Shaking my head, I go back to my own world. As though I were so weak and gone that I wouldn't keep weapons near me for safety. Like I would hesitate to take out a threat to myself or Judith. Honestly, this man was ridiculous.
And I was right, even if I hadn't voiced it. Gabriel was completely ridiculous. He was 'tired' so he retired to the rectory. Later, after Michonne had checked on him, we heard his voice outside the church. What the literal hell? Of course, unlike the man of the cloth, Michonne and Carl work to unfortify the church to save him. And with him come enough walkers to keep my brother and Michonne busy. Damn him. I think, carefully lowering my sister to a spot hidden behind the pulpit and stepping forward with my knife in hand to fix his idiotic mess. Overwhelmed, I shout to Carl to grab Judith and we all rush into Gabriel's office. And there, as we can hear the horde chomping for our flesh, we see how he'd gotten out. Through the hole in the floor, which we use to escape.
Outside, Michonne and I take charge. Killing the walkers that were trapped by the other fortifications that were in place, before boarding up the remaining freaks inside the church. Forced to sit outside with my baby sister, my baby brother, Michonne, and Gabriel, we listen as he tells us about his little field trip. As he's telling his tale, we can hear that the doors of the church, the way we'd barricade wouldn't hold.
And before we can get into position to fight, a fucking firetruck rumbles up and drives straight through the doors. I never thought I'd be so happy to see a foul mouthed ginger in my life, but I swear Abraham became one of my favorite people in that one moment. Michonne tells Maggie that Beth is alive and the others are on a rescue mission, and the decision is made. We're all going to Atlanta.
We're waiting as Dad exits the hospital. I see the look in his eyes and I KNOW that something has gone horribly wrong. And then Daryl walks out, cradling the limp body of Beth, and I know. I know that she's dead. That Daryl will carry the burden longer than he will her body. And that because of that he'll seek me out. He'll need me to reassure him that he was a good man. That he was worthy. That he did his best. And I knew that I would give that to him. I'd push aside my own pain at being left behind at every whim he had to rescue and save. I'd push aside my own tattered and shredded feelings and needs and I'd rebuild his.
This time, however, I also knew that in rebuilding him I was tearing apart myself. For every brick I gave him for strength, was coming from my own supply. And one day, Daryl would be as invincible as I wanted him to be, but I'd be gone. As surely as if he was carrying my limp body from the wreckage. And I wondered if he'd notice.
