Author's Note: This chapter takes place during the season 5 episode, 'Strangers' and what dialogue is from there is not mine, though once again I gave lines spoken by others to Georgie, as well as worked her into the scenes as well. I will continue to do this from here on out so this is my last author's note in regard to it. ;)

"More than most, I know the pain of surviving." ― Ann Aguirre, Aftermath

After walking for a while in the woods, the group chose to take a break.

Georgie sat alone against a tree, looking over at Judith who was being fed a bottle of water by her big brother. Their father, Rick, sat with them, before standing up to say something to one of the younger women whose name Georgie hadn't got yet. She watched how they exchanged a few words and then even bumped fists. The gesture seemed to make them both smile.

Hell, it even made Georgie smile.

Turning her attention back toward Carl and Judith, Georgie decided to stand up and walk over to them and sit back down. "There's some pecan butter in her bag here," she informed. She went ahead and opened the back out, pulling out one of the baby food jars she had repurposed for the pecan butter. "She seems to have liked it so far."

That was when Rick turned and crouched down with them.

"You've been with Carol." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"I have," she replied. She looked him in the eye briefly and then down at the jar in her hands, twisting the cap off. "Then we found Tyreese and we found shelter in this house." She left out the bit about Lizzie and Mika. It was just too rough to talk about. "There was a ton of pecans all around. Carol toasted them up one night and the next day I attempted to make this pecan butter. Baby food for Judith was running low so I thought I could throw something together that was edible and filling enough for her."

"I was wondering what that stuff was."

"It's surprisingly good." With the cap off, she offered some to Carl to taste, who took a fingertip's worth and popped it in his mouth. When he seemed to like it, he nodded at his father and then Georgie offered some to Rick as well. He hesitated and then dipped a finger in. "It's just toasted pecans I crushed into a powder, oil, vanilla extract and brown sugar. It's not thick like actual butter, more like grainy syrup, but it does the trick."

"It is good," Rick remarked. "Thank you, and not just for the pecan butter syrup whatever." He grinned appreciatively. "For keeping my daughter safe."

Georgie shrugged and handed the jar to Carl. "I'm a mom," she remarked. "It's instinct."

Standing up, she watched as Rick's gaze followed her. She knew he had noticed no other kids other than his own with them and she knew he was quickly able to put two and two together and determine there was substantial loss in her backstory.

Instead of prying right off the bat, Rick stood with her and gave a nod of his head and offered her his hand. "Thank you again, nonetheless."

Georgie accepted his hand and shook it, both letting the gesture linger for a moment or two longer than it needed before stepping back from each other.

A few hours later, when night had fallen, and a fire was built keep the group warm, Georgie took a seat near Bob and Sasha, letting the latter know how they had each been a part of the same group a short time after the outbreak; how it had been each other's first groups and how they both had assumed the other had been killed by walkers.

Off away from the fire Carol stood with Rick, talking in hushed voices and Georgie was able to wager a solid guess as to what that conversation entailed. She didn't get to converse herself with Carol after that because the older woman had gone off with Daryl to keep watch.

By morning, the fire had been put out and the group was up and moving once more after managing to get some sleep.

They were armed with their weapons, even Georgie who had managed to resume her duty of carrying Judith. Her rifle was slung over one shoulder, her handgun still in her back pocket and her original and her new hunting knives were sheathed on both of her hips. When Daryl appeared from out of nowhere with some squirrels he caught. Rick had his gun aimed and Daryl threw his hands up before both meant walk away momentarily together to have a sidebar. Rick then whistled at the group to stay close.

The more they walked along, the more Georgie was able to get a better sense for the people she was now with. It seemed Bob and Sasha were an item and Tyreese seemed happy to know his sister was happy. Her fellow ginger, the bulldog of a man with a military haircut and handlebar mustache, whose name was Abraham, seemed to be distant toward the others except for the young woman at his die and the man with the mullet who Georgie wondered was autistic.

As their group continued on, the sounds of a man screaming from help from not too far away could be heard. Rick held up his hand for everyone to stop but Carl was urging him for them to go help whoever it was. Hesitating, Rick caved and allowed himself to be dragged away, and everyone else followed suit.

On top of a massive rock in the middle of the woods, was a preacher of some kind who was screaming for help over and over while trying to kick at the walkers who were grabbing onto his pant legs. Someone fired a shot into one of the walker's head, Michonne took one down with the butt of her gun, Rick smashed another's skull against the stone, and Carol buried her knife in third's skull. A fourth walker ambled from around the rock which Daryl used his cross bow on.

When it was clear, Rick called the man down. Sliding down the rock, the preacher looked as if he'd witness the brutal slaughter of a dozen school children rather than a few walkers. He was shaking so badly.

Georgie could help but wonder if he'd been living under a rock and was somehow not used to seeing walkers around.

"You okay?" Rick asked.

And then the preacher threw up.

"Sorry," he finally spoke, wiping his mouth and standing up straight. "Yes, thank you. I'm Gabriel."

"You have any weapons on ya?" Rick inquired.

Gabriel laughed nervously, possibly thinking Rick's question was a joke of some sort. Michonne, who was standing next to him didn't seem very amused and Gabriel took note. "Do I look like I would have any weapons?"

"We don't give two short and curlies what it looks like," Abraham piped up.

Clearly transferring some his fear from the walkers to the group, Gabriel replied, "I have no weapons of any kind. The word of God is the only protection I need."

"Sure didn't look like it," Daryl commented.

Gabriel smiled. "I called for help. Help came." He looked around at all the faces staring back at him. He seemed jittery and nervous again. "Do you have—have any food? Whatever I—I had left, it just hit the ground."

Something in the back of Georgie's mind gnawed at her; her mother's voice. Her parents and her sister had been more of the religious variety, while her and her brother had been the two branches in their family tree that were anything but. Still, it didn't stop her from hearing her mother's voice admonishing her for not being kind to a man of the cloth.

"We have pecans," Carl spoke up, offering a small baggie of the nuts to the preacher.

Gabriel took the baggie graciously. "Thank you," he said as he noticed Judith cooing in Georgie's arms. "That's a beautiful child." When no one reacted and still just watched him apprehensively, he asked, "Do you have a camp?"

"No," Rick replied. "Do you?"

Gabriel wavered. "I have a church."

"Hold your hands above your head."

Georgie shifted Judith around to her other hip and held a hand upon the back of the girl's head to hold her close as she watched the interaction unfold. Gabriel's arms went up and Rick reached forward, feeling around for any concealed weapons. Georgie then remembered Carol mention in passing how Rick had been a Sheriff Deputy before the apocalypse, which had been why it was so easy for him to fall into such a leadership role. It also explained the hat Carl wore.

"How many walkers have you killed?" Rick asked.

"Not any, actually."

"Turn around." He continued to feel around on Gabriel when the preacher turned to face the rock. "How many people have you killed?"

"None." Gabriel seemed almost offended by the second question as he looked over his shoulder back at Rick.

"Why?"

Gabriel was able to face back forward again when he responded. "Because the Lord abhors violence."

Rick didn't seem convinced. "What have you done? We've all done something."

"I'm a sinner. I sin almost every day. But those sins, I confess them to God, not strangers."

"You said you had a church?" Michonne stared at him with no judgment on her face either way.

Gabriel simply nodded.

Shortly thereafter, Gabriel led them to his church; a small, white church that somehow made Georgie think it belonged on Little House on the Prairie. The name on the hanging sign in front, away from the building, said the church was called St. Sarah's Episcopal. It had two red doors and, had Georgie been a churchgoer before the outbreak, she could have seen herself attending this church, simply for how picturesque it looked on the outside. It was quiet and peaceful and simple. It seemed really nice, even if its preacher was questionable.

"Hold up," Rick spoke just as Gabriel was about to unlock the doors. "Can we take a look around first? We just want to hold on to our squirrels." He held out his hand and Gabriel dropped the keys into Rick's palm.

The doors creaked open as soon as they were unlocked, and Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Glenn and Carol went inside; weapons at the ready.

"Do you think they'll find anything bad in there?" Carl wondered. The question wasn't out of any kind of fear, but mere curiosity.

Georgie shrugged. "Well, preacher man did willingly lead us here with nothing to protect himself with, so I doubt it. He just seems a bit too chicken shit to have anything nasty inside."

Carl looked up at her with a smile and chuckled. "Yeah," he agreed.

After a few minutes, there came a whistle from inside the church.

Rick and Glenn appeared out of the doors first, handing the keys back to Gabriel.

"I spent months here without stepping out the front door. If you found someone inside, well, it would have been surprising."

The others filed out of the church and Rick turned back at Gabriel as Carl walked up beside his father with Georgie beside him, still holding Judith.

"Thanks for this," she said to the preacher. There, she had appeased her mother's soul by being polite. Now maybe she wouldn't hear her voice in her conscience again about churchy shit like this again.

Rick turned his attention to her and smirked a little. She caught his gaze just as Abraham approached.

"We found a short bus out back," he informed. "It don't run, but I bet we could fix that in less than a day or two. Father here says he doesn't want it. Looks like we found ourselves some transport."

Rick listened to this while placing his hand on Judith's head and brushed her hair back softly.

"You understand what's at stake here, right?" Abraham continued to talk.

"I do," Rick assured.

"Now that we can take a breath—" Georgie began to say.

"We take a breath, we slow down, shit inevitably goes down," Abraham cut her off.

Georgie narrowed her gaze at him and grew firmer in her tone. "We need supplies no matter what we do next."

"That's right," Rick agreed, looking at her before stepping back up into the church. "Water, food, ammunition."

"Short bus ain't going nowhere," Daryl quipped as Georgie stepped inside the church with Judith, while Carl and Michonne followed directly behind her. "Bring you back some baked beans."

Once indoors, Georgie passed Judith over to her father to give her arms a rest and to set down her weapons on one of the pews. She took a seat on one of the center aisle armrests near the front of the church, perched next to where Michonne stood. Gabriel was a couple feet away.

"How'd you survive here for so long?" Rick inquired, walking up the aisle to stand in front of the preacher man. "Where did your supplies come from?"

"Luck," Gabriel responded. "Our annual canned food drive. Things fell apart right after we finished it. It was just me."

"C'mere, Judith," Carl whispered as he approached.

Georgie smiled, watching how lovingly the big brother cared for his little sister. It reminded her of how sweet her son had always been with her daughter. A few nice memories entered her mind and she looked away toward the altar area, biting her lips together.

One day she hoped that sharp ache in her heart would dull just a little.

Closing her eyes, she just focused on the voices of everyone in the church.

"The food lasted a long time," Gabriel was still saying. "And then I started scavenging. I've cleaned out every place nearby. Except for one."

"What kept you from it?" Rick asked, still holding his rifle.

"It's overrun."

"How many?"

"A dozen or so, maybe more."

Rick nodded. "We can handle a dozen."

"Bob and I will go with you," Sasha offered. "Tyreese can stay here, help keep Judith safe."

"That'll be okay?" Rick asked of Tyreese. A big man like him would've been good help on their run.

"Sure," Tyreese nodded. "You ever need me to watch her, need anything for her, I'm right here."

"I'm grateful for it." Rick walked up to the other man and added, "And everything else."

Well, if Tyreese was staying put, then Georgie felt like she needed to contribute more than just baby-holding, as nice as it had been. "I'll come, too," she informed, as Rick glanced behind him to where she was sat on the armrest. "I'd like to help."

Rick nodded. "Yeah, sure thing. Thanks."

"I'll draw you a map," Gabriel suggested.

"You don't need to. You're coming with us."

Georgie couldn't see Gabriel's face, because his back was to her, but she could guess it was nervous and twitchy.

"I'm not gonna be of any help. You saw me. I'm no good around those things."

"You're coming with us," Rick repeated.

When supply run group made it into town, with Gabriel leading the way, Bob sidled up beside Rick. The women – Michonne, Sasha and Georgie – brought up the rear. Sasha was the one carrying the duffel bag over her shoulder for anything they managed to bring back to the church.

"When you said they don't get to live, you weren't wrong," Bob remarked. "We push ourselves and let things go. Then we let some more go and some more. And pretty soon, there's things we can't get back. Things we couldn't hold on to even if we tried. Washington's gonna happen, Rick."

"I haven't decided if we're going."

"Yeah, I know, and that's cool. But you've seen Abraham in action. He's gonna get there and Eugene's gonna cure all this and you're gonna find yourself in a place where it's like how it used to be. And if you've let too much go along the way, that's not gonna work. 'Cause you gonna be back in the real world."

"This is the real world, Bob."

"Nah. This is a nightmare, and nightmares end. I'm sorry. I'm calling it. Washington's gonna happen. You're gonna say yes. Already too much momentum. You can't fight city hall. Maybe that's just one of those parts of not letting go."

"Maybe we should focus on the now, Bob," Georgie suggested. "We can have our city hall meeting later."

Bob threw a smirk over his shoulder at her. He wasn't offended. He nodded and agreed. "Sure thing."

After weaving through a couple of back alleys and streets, they made it to the food bank, a white-washed brick building that served the whole county, according to Gabriel.

Rick was the first to head in, with his rifle raised. In the main room, where there were a few racks of clothes hanging, he held up his hand for the others to stop and wait. He walked over to a large hole in the floor where the sounds of sloshing movement could be heard. When Rick signaled for them to come nearer, the sounds of familiar raspy groans got louder, and so did the stench.

Peering down, they could see the basement had flooded and walkers were trapped down there, wandering aimlessly through the water.

"If a sewer could puke, this is what it'd smell like," Bob remarked.

"I dunno," Georgie added her two cents. "I think it would probably smell better than this."

Michonne looked up at the ceiling. "The water's been coming down that hole for a while. Slimed this place up good."

"We can use the shelves to block them," Georgie suggested.

Rick looked at her. "Yeah, that's it, Georgie. That's our way; down those shelves." As everyone began to move, Rick noticed Gabriel wasn't. "Hey, I said you're coming with us."

Gabriel looked as if he was going to shit his pants.

They each crouched onto the tops of the shelves and then jumped down the rest of the way, water splashing up around them. It was waist deep and smelled no better down there than it did above.

"Go! Go! Here they come," Rick snarled. The walkers began to trudge toward them as he and Bob pulled two shelves over and then helped Sasha in moving the other one so they had some sort of barricade going. "I see three here."

They began putting down the walkers as they reached through the shelves at them. Knives and machetes punctured the decaying skulls easily. In a panic over noticing one of the walkers, Gabriel hurried away and clamored for the wooden stairs which were missing their bottom half. As he grabbed onto it, it fell apart and he tumbled back into the water, before getting up and backing himself up against a wall, completely exposed.

"We have to get Gabriel," Rick announced, when he'd noticed the preacher's situation.

"What happened?" Bob wondered.

"I don't know." Maneuvering around, Rick continued, "Alright, we'll push down the shelves on the ones in front of us. We'll fight through and I'll grab him. Go!"

With all their might, they each pushed forward and the shelf went down, toppling somewhat on three of the walkers. Rick, Michonne, Bob, Sasha and Georgie began to pile out, stabbing a walker or two as they moved. Rick finally reached Gabriel and the female walker descending upon him. He grabbed her and smashed her head in while Gabriel sank down into the water, sobbing.

Michonne and Georgie looked at each other, both seeming to fight the urge to roll their eyes.

Just as things seemed calm and all the walkers put down, Bob suddenly got pulled under the water. Sasha shouted out for him as he popped back up with a slimy, skeletal walker. The others came to his aid as he was able to push the walker back, impaling it onto a pole. Sasha took the opportunity to take a green container and demolish the walker's head.

"Bob, you okay?" Georgie called out. "Tell me you're okay."

"You okay?" Sasha echoed, more quietly.

"I am now," Bob said, looking up at his girlfriend.

Georgie moved around, trying to trudge over to the pair, and got the hem of her shirt stuck on an upturned shelf. Rick came up from behind her and pulled the material away for her, placing a hand on her shoulder, making sure she and Michonne were okay before throwing a frustrated glare over at Gabriel.

"We all good now?" Everyone seemed to nod their heads in agreement. "Alright, let's get this shit and get outta here."

When they had gathered up enough supplies to carry back in the duffel bag, containers and on trolleys, the six of them managed to thankfully get out of the basement alive. No thanks to Gabriel's breakdown, of course, which threw a monkey wrench into things.

"I'm sorry. I—I panicked. I told you I—" Gabriel was saying to Rick once they were all back outside and soaked to the bone.

If the water weren't so dirty or smelled so bad, it would've been refreshing.

"You knew her when she was alive," Rick cut Gabriel off. When the preacher man didn't respond, Rick continued. "Yeah, I get it. You only tell your sins to God."

Georgie eyed the pair as she walked behind them, helping Michonne push a second trolley of supplies. Both women look at each other once more and both seemed to have the same general opinion of the preacher man. He was a pain in the ass, is what he was.

Once away from town and back on the overgrown country road leading toward the church, Rick looked over at Michonne who was now pushing Rick's cart with him. They were making Gabriel push the second one by himself and Georgie walked beside him with her rifle aimed. Sasha and Bob brought up the rear; Bob pulling a wheeled garbage bin full of supplies and Sasha holding her own rifle as well.

"You miss your sword?" Rick asked Michonne.

"Wasn't really mine in the first place. Found it in the very beginning."

"How'd you get so good?"

"It was just me and them out here all day, every day, for a good long time," she explained simply. "I don't know what that was, but it wasn't a life. Not like today; stumbling around in three feet of slime for some peas and carrots, that's living."

Georgie felt the same way. Being alone against this fallen world was a terrible thing, but being in the thick of it with like-minded people, good people, for the sake of a common goal, that togetherness, was what made it all worthwhile.

All in all, it was a good day so far.

"I miss Andrea. I miss Hershel," Michonne continued.

"Yeah," Rick agreed.

Georgie had heard the name of Hershel before. Carol had mentioned he owned a farm the group had stayed on for a while when they were looking for Sophia. Andrea, however, was an unfamiliar name, but Georgie was able to easily deduce it was another person they considered family.

"I don't miss what was before," Michonne insisted. "I don't miss that sword."

"I miss those clothes back at the food bank we didn't grab," Georgie remarked. "We smell like shit."

Rick laughed and looked over his shoulder at her with a nod of his head. "Yeah, we do." He shrugged, looking forward. "Maybe we'll make another run back there tomorrow."

"I'm down with that," Sasha agreed.

"Hey, preacher man," Georgie looked at Gabriel. "You have soap in that little church bathroom of yours?"

"I have a few bars."

"We could also wash what we got if we can't make it back," Georgie suggested.

"Another good idea," Rick nodded. He glanced back at her again and smiled.

That night, amidst candlelight all around the inside of the church, the group of now seventeen people, which included Gabriel, dined on plenty of canned goods. There was laughter and chatter and people smiling. It was always wonderful to feel some sense of normalcy and community like this again. There were even paper plates and forks to use instead of just eating straight from the cans. It was the little things in life, for sure; the little luxuries everyone had taken for granted before the outbreak.

While she was looking for a good spot to sit, Tyreese gestured at Georgie for her to come sit next him. His kindness almost made her question if he was becoming sweet on her, but then she determined he was just a big ol' compassionate soul. Georgie shimmied down to the floor, using the railing at the base of the altar area as back support. Sitting Indian-style, she held her plate in one hand and scooped up baked beans with the fork in her other hand, laughing at something Michonne had said.

Rick came forward then and sank down to the floor on the other side of Georgie, letting Judith sit on his lap, leaning her against his legs which he had propped up.

"Mmm, those beans look like good eatin'," he quipped, glancing at her plate.

"They are, compared to the little bit of pecans I've only had for the last few days, and I don't even like pecans. Never have. But, they were what was available."

"We make do," he nodded.

"Yep." She looked at Judith and smiled at the girl, and then looked up at Rick. "Ain't you gonna eat?"

"I will once everyone else has had their fill," he insisted. "Plus," he held up a baggie and gave it a shake, "I got these delicious pecans."

Georgie smiled and leaned forward toward Judith. "You tell your daddy he's gonna turn into a pecan."

Smirking, Rick tilted his head back and held her gaze. "Hey, if a pecan is the worst thing I gotta worry about turning into, I'm happy with that." After a beat, he returned his attention to his daughter, who held out her a pecan in her hand. "Ooh, give me—ah."

Georgie laughed at the interaction as Abraham's voice cut through the chatter.

"I'd like to propose a toast," he announced. Everyone slowly fell silent, and turned their attention toward him as they found a place to sit if they weren't sitting already. "I look around this room and I see survivors. Each and every one of you has earned that title." Abraham smiled and lifted his glass of wine. "To the survivors."

"To the survivors," everyone repeated, holding their glasses up as well, taking sips and smiling at one another.

"That all you wanna be?" Abraham continued. "Wake up in the morning, fight the undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep at night with two eyes open, rinse and repeat? 'Cause you can do that. I mean, you got the strength. You got the skill. Thing is, for you people, for what you can do, that's just surrender. Now, we get Eugene to Washington and he will make the dead die and the living will have this world again. And that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip."

Judith cooed and Rick pulled her against his chest as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. Georgie pulled her gaze away from Abraham and looked toward Judith instead, giving the little girl her finger like she had in nights past. Georgie's hand had to rest slightly on Rick's shoulder to do so, but he didn't seem to mind. His daughter was comfortable and comfortable with the gesture, and that was what mattered.

"Eugene, what's in DC?" Abraham asked.

Eugene, or Mullet Man as Georgie had been calling him in her head, looked around at a few people and took a breath. "Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this FUBAR magnitude. That means food, fuel, refuge. Restart."

Abraham smirked. "However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there; safer than you've been since this whole thing started." He looked to Rick. "Come with us. Save the world for that little one." After a moment, he added, "Save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there who don't got nothing left to do except survive."

Rick chuckled, and then Judith cooed. "What was that?" he asked her with a smile. "I think she knows what I'm about to say." Judith continued to smile, turning to look at Georgie who still had her finger caught up in the little girl's tiny grip. "She's in. If she's in, I'm in. We're in," Rick grinned.

Georgie had been smiling too, but hers faded somewhat. Pulling her finger away from Judith, she stood up and walked over toward an empty pew while the others laughed and clapped at the prospect of DC and the hope it presented. She pushed her plate away from her and watched as Rick got up as well, handing Judith over to a very eager Sasha and then finally helped himself to some actual food.

Everyone seemed to find different conversations then. Tara was seated beside Maggie, and only their chatter seemed like something serious. Georgie leaned back in her pew, her hands folded in her lap as she literally twiddled her thumbs together.

These people were going to go to DC because there was apparently a cure Eugene could help provide the world with, and that was amazing.

Georgie should be happy.

And she was…for them.

She just couldn't ignore the ache in her heart again; the reason she kept getting up every morning and fighting back against the undead, day in and day out. She worried that if she left this place behind and went with the others, she might possibly lose a chance at healing that ache by choosing to accept there was no hope of finding her son.

Georgie's head lowered and she reached her arms out to grab the pew in front of her, looking down at the floor. When she lifted her head, she looked around the church and realized she couldn't find Carol anywhere; the one she felt the need to talk to right now.

She was probably sitting alone like that for a few more minutes when someone nudged her over and helped themselves to taking up space beside her. It was only somewhat of a tight squeeze because Georgie had been sitting at the end of the pew and she hadn't moved over much.

When she looked beside her, it was Rick, holding a glass of wine that he set down on the floor between his boots.

"What's on your mind? You don't seem as excited for this road trip we're about to take as the others."

Georgie frowned. "I have my reasons," she replied. "Not sure if you'll understand them."

"Won't know until you try me." When she hesitated, he gave her arm another nudge. "C'mon, I don't bite." Then, "Well, okay, some recent events would say otherwise, but that's a different story."

"I lost someone, during the outbreak; someone I would give my life for in a heartbeat. I don't know if they survived. There was no body to be found, so there has never been any reason for me to be completely, one hundred percent certain this person is dead; either truly or as a walker."

"Who?"

She hesitated again, pursing her lips together, and chose to stay silent for a bit longer. Rick turned slightly, facing her side and reaching an arm behind her on the back of the pew as he leaned in toward her face. Certain things in his head seemed to piece themselves together over notions he'd had about her; things she'd said in the last day, her mannerisms around Judith and Carl.

"You told me yesterday that taking care of Judith was just instinct, 'cause you're a mom," he spoke quietly. "You didn't say you were a mom. You said you are. You have a child out there in the world, don't you?"

Georgie cast a side glance at him. His face was inches from hers and she was starting to feel as comfortable around him as she did with Carol. Bob she had known the longest of everyone there and not even he knew about her son. She never spoke about her pre-apocalypse life when she was in that first group with him. She barely spoke about it with her second group, except with Dana. When she caught Rick's eye, she let one or two walls fall down. Her shoulders slumped slightly and she nodded her head.

"My son," she finally replied. "Tristan."

"How old is he?"

She appreciated him not referring to her son in the past tense. "He'd be eight, going on nine now. He was seven and a half when I last saw him. He, uh…he had gone on his first Cub Scout camping trip. It was an entire weekend thing. He was so excited about it. It was all he would talk about. Then the world suddenly fell apart, so my husband and I drove to the campground where the kids were supposed to be, but he wasn't there. Eleven of the fifteen boys were there and they were dead. So was one of their leaders. The other four boys and the other leader, my son included, were missing. So, my husband, daughter and myself went home, thinking maybe the leader would bring him home to us, but that never happened."

"You had a daughter, too?" Considering how she was with Judith, he asked, "Was she Judith's age when the outbreak happened?"

"She was three." Georgie began to fidget with her fingers. "She died, though."

"Where was your husband? Did he turn?"

Georgie shrugged. "He took off a month in. We'd been fighting, he wanted to go to Atlanta and I wanted to stay put in case Tristan came home. He left me and our daughter."

"I'm sorry," Rick commented.

Georgie shook her head. "My brother got to us two weeks later and was with us week more. On a supply run, I found my husband's truck, abandoned on the road. The door was open, keys in the ignition and blood on the ground. He was nowhere to be found either, but at least with him there was evidence he's probably dead. Then, my brother got bit and didn't tell me, and he bit my daughter because I hadn't realized he'd turned. My daughter died in my arms, bleeding out and I had to put my brother down before doing the same to my little girl, so she wouldn't become a walker either."

"Shit." Rick leaned back; he hadn't been expecting that terrible of a backstory.

He knew a lot of people had suffered great loss. He knew Michonne has lost a son the same age, and of course Carol had lost her daughter, but here was Georgie who had been witness to her daughter's demise and was living with the fear her son suffered a similar fate. What had to be worse was never knowing one way or the either.

"I've been wandering around the greater Atlanta area and towns even further out since I first went off alone. Even when I was with other groups, I was able to keep an eye out for clues to what happened to my son," she finally continued. "If I go to DC, I'm scared I'll definitely never find him. Even if he's a walker somewhere, I need to know where he is. I've been holding onto hope for so long, wishing for the best, that other people found him and took him in and have been protecting him all this time. It's what got me through the winter nights and every obstacle put in my way; pure, unadulterated hope." Georgie shifted back about an inch away from Rick and stared him dead in the face. "If Carol hadn't come along when she did, everything would be different for me right now. Because of Carol, I got to meet Judith. Before then, my only goal was a glimmer of hope my son might be alive. Even if he is, I have no way of knowing where he is, and that's more painful than I can express. However, Judith is in my life now. That little girl of yours has filled my heart with a different hope and a new purpose."

Rick leaned back against the corner of the pew while reaching his hand down onto Georgie's shoulder. He was going to say something but then shut his mouth, letting her continue her thought process instead.

"My main purpose right now is protecting Judith," she declared to him. "My past, my loss, is holding me back from having a future and enjoying the now. If my son is alive, which I hope he is, I believe he is with good people, but if he's dead, I believe that his true self, his soul, is with his sister, and I can rest easy knowing he feels no pain anymore, that he doesn't have to experience the horrors of this new world. Judith, on the other hand, and Carl, too; they're my here and now, and I want to help make sure they have a future."

Dumbfounded over what to say at first, Rick just sat there silently, letting her words sink in and process in his head. Their eyes met again and the only thing he could think of doing right off the bat was to wrap his arms around her and give her a tight hug.

Georgie didn't react right away to the gesture, but soon caved; reaching her arms around to his back and resting her head down on his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Thank you." When he pulled back, Rick reached a hand up to cup the side of her face, forcing her to hold his gaze. "I'm glad Carol found you, too, and that you've stuck by my daughter, and helped all of us out several times over already," he insisted. He moved his other hand to her shoulder. "If you are serious about sticking around with us and being a champion of my children's future in this world, then I promise you that I will do whatever I can to help you find out the fate of your son. Even if it takes years, I don't care; I will help you."

Georgie grinned as tears lined her eyes. She couldn't help herself but, in the tenseness of the conversation and the emotions she was feeling and just their overall close proximity, she found herself a little taken with Rick then. She was somehow just now seeing him in a new light.

"Just promise me you'll stay with us," Rick finished saying.

"This is where Judith and Carl are," Georgie snickered. "You couldn't pry me away now, even with the jaws of life."

Rick smiled back at her and then surprised her by placing his lips to her forehead. When he leaned back again, he tapped the back of the pew. "I think we're all gonna be okay."

"I do, too," she concurred. "Because we're survivors."