It was the truck pulling up in front of the house that gave me the most anxiety, and I stood up from my place on the porch step. Isaac didn't move from his position, curled up with his back against the wall, hidden from view by the railing. I looked back to see if he even knew the car was coming, but if he did, he gave no evidence of seeing it.

My chest cramped as I waited. The people at the prison were bound to be angry, because worry often presented in that way, disguising fears by placing the blame on someone for them feeling that way. But now wasn't the time. I knew who was likely to fetch us, and they would act in this way. I needed to intercept their outburst.

Just as I feared, Daryl stood up first. I could see his face, turning red when he saw me. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips were pressed together in a thin line. He slammed the car door in a big sweep of his hand and the car physically shook.

Here we go.

I walked down towards him, which was when he started yelling. "The hell do you think you're tryna pull?! Huh?! Runnin' off with some boy in the middle of the night! I never expected ya to do somethin' so goddamn stupid! Get yer ass in the car, Ace!"

"Daryl," I put my hands out to stop him before he turned his attention to Isaac. "Not now."

"Yes fuckin' now!"

"Daryl—" Carol tried to interject.

"—Find him, and get in the fuckin' car!"

"Daryl!" I yelled, getting his attention. When he finally quietened down, I shook my head. "Stop."

He just stared at me for a second in silent contemplation, as his gaze switched to where Isaac was still sitting on the porch. After a long moment, his eyes landed on me again and he blew a long breath out of his nose, now understanding why he had to keep calm.

"Show me," he said, flicking his hands in the direction of the house.

Nodding, I sighed before turning and walking up to the house. Isaac still didn't look up as we passed him, and probably just had to ignore the fact that both of them had finally noticed him, neither thinking about what to say. I felt sorry for him, and I hated that I even had to show them because I doubted he was comfortable with this.

I led them through the house and into the kitchen where Isaac's mother—now wrapped in a sheet I brought down from upstairs—was still lying. The blood had started to seep through the white cotton, making it all the more obvious and leaving me without much need to explain what was happening.

"Was she bit?" Carol asked.

"No."

Kneeling down, I pulled the sheet back to reveal her body. I felt the two of them recoil at the sight of her, the blood, and bruises. But I wasn't done. I continued folding it down even further to reveal her arm and the ripped clothes.

"I found her like this," I said. "I tried to stop him from coming in here but . . ."

Daryl squatted down next to me, just clear of the pool of blood. He gently cupped his fingers under her arm, lifting it and tilting his head to the side to read the writing carved into her wrist. After a moment he sighed, and placed her arm back down.

"Sick bastards," he muttered quietly and pulled the sheet back over her head.

I nodded absently, staring at her. My mind went blank for a moment, and I released a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Pushing myself to my feet, I crossed my arms and shook my head for a moment, trying to get any thoughts back into my mind.

"I, uh . . . I thought maybe it could've been the Governor," I suggested tiredly. "I know he'd do something like this, but normally he has a reason, it isn't normally just some random woman. Even the writing, it . . . I don't know. Just doesn't seem like him. "

"Maybe," Carol said, but her voice was unsure.

It was pointless of me to ask, seeing as there was a good chance that I knew the Governor better than Daryl and Carol. Sure, he kidnapped Daryl and forced him to fight Merle, but I had spoken to him, I was involved in any situation involving his meeting or fights against him. Hell, I had more than one opportunity to kill him. The only person who had interacted with the Governor more than me (outside of torture events) was Rick and Michonne.

It just made me feel worse for Isaac. If this was the Governor, then his mother had died because I couldn't pull the trigger in time. I was too worried that maybe my aim was off, what'd happen if I missed, that he got the chance to walk free. It may not have been the Governor, but we would never have that kind of proof unless we found him, and if that was the case then I would have to tell Isaac that I was one of the reasons his mother had died.

"We have to take her back," I said, now suddenly feeling very guilty.

"I know," Daryl nodded.

"And dig a grave."

"I know."

"We will," Carol agreed from behind me.

As Daryl lifted his head, I saw his expression change. He pulled himself to his feet using the counter, making sure that he didn't step over her body, and took the long way around the kitchen island to the back door. He pulled at the handle with two fingers, and the door opened.

"Someone kicked this in," he said. "Frame's broken."

I stared at it, wondering how he'd ever seen something like that. The evidence was almost invisible unless you'd been looking at it, especially at the angle I was kneeling. I wouldn't have seen it earlier, because I was more worried about Isaac. I probably should've thought about it, the path they used to get in here, in case whoever did this was still here or came back, but I was a little preoccupied at the time.

"I'm gonna go outside, check for tracks," Daryl said. "Could be a group that did this. We wanna know, be ready in case they show up at the prison."

"Yeah, okay," Carol nodded.

Daryl lifted his crossbow and left the room straight after that, using the broken back door.

Me and Carol waited in silence. I wondered whether I should say something else, or explain anything else, but everything had been laid out and seemed to be clear. I didn't want to get into why I left, why I didn't go to anyone when I saw Isaac leaving, so I just kept my mouth closed.

I considered going to check on Isaac, but if he'd seen any people or walkers I assumed that he would have announced that. The front door was still open, so I imagined we'd hear if anything bad was happening. If anything else was happening.

I was content with staying in silence.

Carol seemed to have other ideas. "That was a stupid thing you did."

I could have argued and explained why I thought she was wrong. Sure, my decision wasn't the smartest thing I've done in recent times, but any other decision would have put Isaac and the others in more danger than necessary.

Telling someone would have lost time, and potentially Isaac. It would have taken minutes to wake someone up and get them ready to follow him into the woods, putting them in danger. If we didn't find him after that then he would've been alone, so Isaac would be the one in peril.

The only person who was in danger because of what I did was me. Maybe that's what Carol meant by calling my idea stupid, but what I did was the lesser of two evils, because Isaac was safer with me and the group wasn't affected by my leaving.

Instead of an argument, all I could muster was: "Well, after a year of making smart decisions, I am due."

Carol nodded, seemingly understanding that I didn't want to go any further into it. I waited silently for Daryl to come back, which didn't happen too much later, which didn't surprise me. It's not like he was following the tracks completely, just getting an estimate of numbers.

"Sick bastards, a whole group of 'em," Daryl said. "Six, seven people. Hard to tell. We should get outta here. Don' wanna be here for somethin' else to happen."

Carol nodded, pushing herself away from the counter. "I'm going to get him in the car. Bring her body out in a few minutes."

Neither of us said anything to each other as Carol walked out into the hallway, closing the front door a little while she talked to Isaac. She left it cracked open just a little so we could easily walk the body outside

For a moment we stood in silence, each of us standing across from the other at opposite ends of the room. Daryl moved to the side so he could see out the front, seemingly waiting for Carol. I hoped it would remain as quiet as it was, but the same as with Carol, Daryl seemed to have other plans.

"What if you walked in on this?" Daryl asked out of nowhere, signalling that he was still mad (worried) about what I'd done, which I'd been expecting.

I only hoped he'd have a little more regret that we didn't come here sooner, but Daryl usually had the what's done is done mindset, so he probably wasn't focusing on that aspect so much. It kind of annoyed me considering the circumstances.

"Then maybe I could have stopped it," I answered dully.

"Or gotten yourself killed," he said.

"I have a gun," I reminded him. "Puts me at better odds of surviving something like this over Isaac or his mother."

"We know they had at least one gun too," Daryl argued. "Six or seven guys did this, could have more than one."

I clenched my teeth and breathed out of my nose. He was right, and despite my experience in the area, half a dozen men with guns would leave me out of my league. But I didn't come, it would have been other people on the line and I never would have been able to live with myself.

"If Isaac made it here alone he could have walked in on this," I said. "He would've died trying to save here, there was a chance that I wouldn't."

"Don't matter," Daryl said. "You don' do this shit anymore."

"Sure, if someone is going to put themselves in danger again I'll just sit back and watch," I mumbled to myself."

"Should've jus' told someone," Daryl said.

I opened my mouth to argue, but there was no point. Daryl wouldn't change his mind and I was fed up with arguing about this already. I would get the same line of questioning at the prison, from everyone, which didn't include everything that had to be done when I got back. I didn't want to make my day any worse by continuously arguing a point

Instead, I just released a breath and said, "Yeah."

Back at the prison, everyone rushed out of the prison at the sound of the car, which couldn't have made things any better for Isaac. He looked up, saw everyone who had come out and turned his gaze straight back to his lap.

When Daryl stopped the car, I got out. I didn't plan on talking to anyone right then, not ready for it, but I didn't have to because as soon as everyone approached the car, Isaac opened the door and walked straight past them to get inside. Everyone exchanged a look with each other, and I could tell by the looks on all their faces that they had worked out what happened.

But I didn't stick around.

I turned away and walked back across the courtyard to the gate that led to the field. Seeing everyone mow, facing them, the questions and criticisms. It would not be something I was sure I could handle at that moment.

We stored some of the garden tools at the bottom of the tower at the top of the field, so I went there first to grab shovels. I would have to come back for the body because going back for her now meant that I would have to interact with everyone.

Down at the field where we made the graves, by the fence, I started outlining the grave to bury Isaac's mother. It crossed my mind that maybe he wouldn't want a ceremony, or maybe even to bury her, but when I brought it up at the house he didn't say anything to confirm or deny burying her. I didn't want to pester him now, so doing this and staying out of the way was probably my best bet.

I could see Rick coming over long before he made it to me, as they had been looking down from the courtyard before he decided to come over. I didn't look at him for long, not wanting to see his facial expression or if he was angry. Also, I needed to get the grave dug and spending my time watching someone walk across a field would bite into that time.

"Hey," he greeted me when he made it to me.

I nodded my head once to show I'd heard him. It didn't matter whether I responded, or answered in any way, because this conversation was already planned out in both of our heads. Rick needed to tell me not to do that again, and what I should have done differently because it was like anything any parent would have done to their kids. The only difference was, I was not Rick's kid, making this argument seem more and more pointless.

"Daryl told me what happened," he said after a moment of silence.

I just mustered a hum as I jabbed the shovel into the soil, getting ready for another round of berating I wasn't sure I deserved. It was just getting tiresome to keep explaining my side of the story, why it was a hard decision to make and the fact that I would probably do the same again given the chance.

Rick acknowledged my melancholy response with a nod that had him staring out past the prison fence. I glanced up, expecting him to say or do something else, but just like with the argument yesterday, he probably had no confidence that he was doing the right thing.

"You should've come to us."

I wondered for a minute about how I should tackle that statement because I had a few options. My first intention was to ignore him, and continue what I was doing so I could either go to bed or get back to work on my gate. I would probably choose the latter.

Another method would be to answer him, the only responses coming to mind being I did come to you or I shouldn't have needed to. Both were true because I came to him and everyone else at the meeting—that wasn't what he meant, but if they had just gone with my plan I wouldn't have needed to go to them to chase Isaac down. Getting that point across to the group was like talking to a brick wall, and it felt like it didn't even matter anymore because it was done. I just wanted this whole day to be over.

I sighed, jamming the shovel into the ground one last time before turning to him. "I know. You're right. But it would have been pointless, wasted more time, and it would have just happened again anyway."

"What do you mean by that?" Rick asked with a tilt of his head.

"Someone else would have gone after him and forced him to come back," I said tiredly, exhausted by the arguments, the trip, and the scoldings. "Whether he could have been convinced is another argument. But even if you or whoever dragged him, or convinced him to come back . . . he would have left again."

With the way he looked, I wondered whether someone had convinced him to talk to me about this because Rick didn't seem to disagree with the words that came out of his mouth. Sure, his words did, but his expression didn't match the hesitant argument we were in. It looked like telling off a kid for hitting their bully.

"We could have worked something out," he came out with, finally. "You should have told someone the moment you knew he left."

"Worked what out?" I only asked because I knew there wasn't going to be an answer.

Rick looked just barely confident and assured in his words. "Whatever we had to, brought him back to go with a better plan. Possibly go if we couldn't convince him like you said. We could have worked it out."

"Rick, you're still not telling me what it would be," I said. "I don't even think you know."

Rick's head turned, pursuing his lips at my words.

I continued, "What you just said we should have done already happened, except it was me. I was there, I went after him and I helped him. If I had gone to get someone we might not have found him, he could have gotten lost or something worse. You and I both know, that for anything to go bad, it just takes a second. There wasn't a right answer."

"You shouldn't have been out there alone, or with him, we still don't know him," Rick said. Part of me was now aware that maybe I should have been more cautious around Isaac because at the time we didn't know if he was telling the truth. There was no doubt in my mind, but I'd been wrong before, and Isaac could have been lying to hurt someone. Rick continued, "There's more risk out there than strangers or walkers."

"I made a choice," I said finally. "Maybe it wasn't the best, but it wasn't wrong. He was desperate and had every right to be."

Something that was the truth. Isaac would have gone anyway, and the choice I made wasn't exactly wrong, just as them deciding it would be safer to go tomorrow wasn't wrong either. I didn't think these were things I had to explain, but apparently, I was wrong about that.

"You got to look for your family, and you found them," I felt guilty that I brought it up, and definitely crossed a boundary, especially after he lost Lori. But I had a point to make. "Not everyone got that chance or was that lucky. I didn't even get to look for my dad."

Rick's expression changed at that, probably understanding my motives more.

"I know we have a lot going on, and planning something like this is hard because you can't keep everyone safe, but there was more we could have done." We was said with a grain of salt because I tried doing better, but aside from driving away myself, there was no way I could have convinced everyone else to leave sooner. It was the only issue with being in a council, that I was still responsible no matter what the stance was. "Him running off was going to happen, and we should have seen it coming. We should have done better."

He nodded. "I know. I know . . ."

"We lost a couple of hours when we brought him back, and I would have lost more time finding someone to go after him," I continued. "The time I could have taken to get someone, we could have lost Isaac, or it could have stopped us from saving her in time—"

"—You can't think like that," Rick said, interrupting the end of my sentence.

"But I am, and I was. I thought the same things when I came back here instead of going after Glenn and Maggie," I said. "Something almost happened then, just like something happened here. So yeah, maybe it didn't matter if I took those extra minutes, but how could I know that at the time? Why would I risk it if it meant someone's life was on the line?"

Rick let out a breath through his nose and then nodded. "You're right, any one of us probably would have done the same thing. I wish we'd done better, and we should have."

I nodded, finally agreeing with the words that came out of his mouth. There was really nothing else I could say without repeating myself, and I knew that he understood my intentions before coming to talk to me about it.

"I'm not upset with you," he promised. "I just want you to be safe. The thought of you being caught up in whatever happened—if you'd walked in on that. I . . . I don't know what I would've done. I'm sorry you had to see it."

Rick put his hands out jutting his fingers to beckon me closer, and when I made it to him he pulled me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around his abdomen, closing my eyes and burying my head into his chest.

"I'm sorry you were put in that position," he said. "You're right, just like you always seem to be. I know you well enough to trust that you were being safe, that you protected yourself and him."

I nodded into the hug. Isaac probably could have protected himself, but I did everything I could do to make sure he didn't have to. Especially after I found out that he had OCD because I didn't want any of that extra stress on him.

"C'mon, we'll get this done," Rick said, patting my back.

I moved out of the way, releasing Rick from the hug.

He grabbed the shovels from the ground and handed one to me so we could continue outlining the grave. I did the same, making a rectangle in the ground around the same size as the other graves we had around, which reminded me that they were even here at all. I never had a reason to come into the field, so I often ignored the dead we had already.

I continued to ignore them, not wanting to get even sadder than I already felt digging this one. It was for a whole different reason, sure. But even remembering what happened before we took in the people from Woodbury, everything felt like it was bubbling back up.

I shook my head and pulled the first large clump of dirt from the ground.

"You should get some rest after this," Rick suggested. "Been up all night."

"I'm good." I might sleep tonight if I don't.

I didn't have to tell Rick that it'd been hard since the war, because he saw. He didn't speak to me about it, just the same as I didn't speak to him when he was struggling after Lori's death. We were closer now, but that wasn't our place. Well, maybe it was, but that's now how I wanted it to be. He had to focus on himself, and his family.

I just didn't want to talk about the nightmares or how I felt numb since the war. I probably should have been focusing on myself, and talking to people about how I was feeling. But even before it was never my strong suit.

Rick nodded, seemingly understanding. Luckily for me, he seemed to drop that line of questioning pretty fast, because if he pushed on that topic I could do the same for him, his trouble sleeping and overworking after the war.

"Carl told me you were doing something yesterday?" It was a question, either asking what I had been up to or why I hadn't taken the day off he'd planned for me. That was his way of trying to help without us actually talking about what was wrong.

"Making a new gate for the front," I explained. "Heavy duty. Walkers won't be able to get in so easily, and it can't just get run over with a car. I took some of those big metal doors from the hallways inside, and I'm welding them together. Gonna cut down some trees and get some spikes around it too."

"How would we open it?"

"I'm still thinking about that, but it's gotta be on some kind of pole thingy that we can twist with a pulley system," I explained. "It's a little hard to work out, but I will."

"I'm sure you will." Rick moved a large pile of dirt to the side, only pausing to wipe the sweat off his gave with his shoulder. "If you ask, I'm sure Daryl and the others would probably get the spikes ready for you."

"Probably, but I don't want to pull anyone away from their things," I shrugged, "and I don't know how to make them yet, so I don't want them getting everything ready when I still need to work them out."

"We need to fix the towers soon, too," Rick added. "Less blind spots for the people on watch."

"It's on the list," I said.

"The list?" He questioned with a partial smile.

"A very long list of things I need to do around here: new gate, towers, eventual farm, water from the pond and fence around it, making the fences stronger, et cetera, et cetera," I explained. "Alongside chores that just keep showing up every few weeks, like servicing the cars and going on runs."

"You could come off the runs if it takes too much time," Rick reminded me.

He'd offered me the same thing before, in the same spirit of me doing too much work around here. Now hearing the list out loud made my head ache; I probably did have a lot more on my plate than the people with more mainstream chores. That song with the council meant that I didn't have a lot of spare time, but as I told Carl, I didn't know what I'd even do with spare time.

I assumed that Rick wanted me to stop going on runs for the same reason he stopped Carl from doing the same, except he had more say over what Carl did. Carl had his issues after Lori's death, he became more hardened and didn't agree that what we did at the end of the war was right. When he killed that boy, Rick saw it too, and he stopped Carl from leaving the prison and putting him in situations where Carl would be in danger to try and pull him back from his new attitude. It didn't seem to work yet.

The only reason I didn't do the same, stay back and keep away from dangerous situations was because I wasn't having the same issues as Carl. Sure, it would be better for me to stay back, and maybe not having to kill corpses every day would make me feel better, but I don't feel too hardened after what I did—in a sense. I felt more guilty than Carl seemed to feel, which I assumed was because he was younger, and didn't have the same values of right or wrong as I did. They hadn't been so implanted into his brain as long as my morals had, so killing people probably hit me a lot harder than it did with him.

"No, I'm good," I said with a shake of my head. "Aside from the walkers I actually enjoy leaving this place sometimes."

"It does kind of feel like a cage," Rick agreed and tilted his head. "I suppose that's the point of it."

"I think it'll get better with everything done," I said. "Look nicer."

"I'm sure it will."

Rick didn't seem so sure that it would get better, I could tell by his tone. Despite everything—how he wanted so badly to take over this place when we found it, his excitement and vision—he was very melancholy about it now. It seemed like whatever vision he had was ripped out of him after the war, and he held a little something that could be mistaken for resentment.

I think Rick just felt the same way as me, which was too much obligation to keep this place going after the war. He was also working constantly, always on runs, always looking for new people and even hunting with Daryl.

We dug the rest of the grave out in silence, which took a little while.

"We should talk to Isaac," Rick said. "See if he wants to be out here when we bury her. Hershel's probably gonna want to say a few words, too."

"I can go." Isaac may not want to see you anyway. I had been on the council which meant he didn't get back to his mother in time, but I also just spent the night taking him there and didn't force him back to the prison, so he may have had a higher opinion of me than anyone else on the council. I knew Rick didn't generally care about how people viewed him, but it may give Isaac a better overall outlook on the prison, which I can see Rick was considering. "If you're coming to see Isaac then you have to wash your hands."

"Wash my hands?"

"Isaac has OCD. People around him being dirty gives him anxiety," I explained simply. "I just don't want him worrying about that right now, after everything that's happened . . ."

Rick gave me a look that I couldn't quite read. At first, it seemed to hold a little confusion, which I imagined was just from receiving the information itself. After that, he seemed to hold a small smile, which I didn't understand. I didn't care enough to ask about it, but it was strange enough to be noticeable until he shook his head and the smile was gone.

"I'll wash up," Rick confirmed and nodded his head back to the prison. "C'mon."

When we got back to the prison Rick grabbed a small bucket of water from our rain catchers to clean the mess off of his hands with, and I did the same. The only thing we had left that was a little messy were the clothes, but in all honesty, I doubted many of our clothes were entirely pristine and changing was useless if we were going to be burying her body right now anyway.

Isaac was in the cell Beth had shown him, which I didn't know the location of until Rick had taken me there. He had one of the cells downstairs in the back corner, one of the ones we had left after we took on the Governor's people.

"Isaac?" I called.

He didn't move from his spot on the bed, lying facing the wall, still in his clothes with his shoes off. I could tell by the way he shifted that he'd heard me, but whether he was trying to ignore me afterwards was still up for debate in my mind.

"We, uh . . . we dug a grave," I said.

"We can bury her, if you'd like, we can perform a ceremony," Rick took over. "Hershel wants to say a few words anyway. You can be there for that."

There was a long moment of silence that pulled at the anxiety built in my chest. "Just bury her," Isaac mumbled, without moving.

"You don't want to come down?" Rick checked, mainly confirming that it'd be okay to start without him, but also partly pushing him to come down for the ceremony.

"Most families weren't harassed by funeral companies on the day someone dies," Isaac spoke so quietly that I wasn't sure it was even directed at us, and whether it was meant for us or not, I still felt bad.

He was right, most people before the apocalypse were given time to adjust before needing to plan something, and I wanted to give him that time, but we didn't have the luxury of storing bodies or getting coffins or anything that would make this better for him. (Really, him being able to mourn her death, to get time to himself in a safe room was something of a luxury compared to how we had to handle most deaths).

"I'm sorry," I told him quietly.

When there was no further response, I backed away from the room with Rick.

Rick reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys to the van. "Drive her down. I'll get Hershel, anyone else who wants to pay their respects."

"Yeah," I gave a nod.

We split off. I drove the car down to the grave and waited for Rick and the others, hoping someone would be able to help me move her body. All of the council came, along with Glenn and Maggie. Glenn squeezed my shoulder as he passed, giving me a small smile, which I couldn't bring myself to return, the headache forming under my eyes taking all of my energy.

Rick and Daryl moved the body, and they filled in the grave before Hershel came down. He had a small, black bible, tucked under his arm as he needed to use his crutches. When he was done with his reading, we all waited around for a few minutes and headed back to the prison.