North Dakota

I remember in the mornings
Waking up
With your arms around my head
You told me you can sleep forever
And I'll still hold you then…

Rick helped Imogen shrug on his suede jacket, before pressing the back of his hand against her forehead, checking her temperature for the umpteenth time. She had woken up that morning with a slight fever, but her hands had been ice cold, her appetite almost gone. Not that there was much to eat, driving Daryl to set off into the trees to score some more squirrel. But part of that was pretext, Daryl and Carol having reported to Rick out of earshot of the others, that somebody or something had been watching them whilst they'd kept watch.

Daryl was now checking for tracks, Rick warning him and Carol to keep this turn of events to themselves. He didn't want Imogen's fragile state of mind to be threatened any further than it was, making him even more determined in his desire for discretion. He hoped last night had been a turning point; that somehow, over time, she would and could come back from this.

He then glanced over at Kit, the sight of his almost skeletal frame making Rick's brow furrow. Despite everything, deep down, he didn't give a damn about Kit, not really. He'd never liked the prick, considering him a posturing pretty boy, who talked big but couldn't back it up. But Kit was here, whether Rick liked it or not, and he had to just grit his teeth and accept it. He had no other option, not when Imogen was involved. The fact she was here and alive was still something he couldn't quite comprehend, Rick not caring to examine his feelings any closer than that.

With an abrupt snap of the fingers, Rick signalled everyone to start moving, Abraham and Rosita taking the lead, Bob and Sasha bringing up the rear. Hesitating, Rick then fell into step beside Imogen, slowing down his stride to match hers. She threw him a broken smile, Rick ducking his head before half smiling back, the gesture almost alien. To hide his awkwardness, he pretended to straighten his rifle strap, feigning absolute absorption before glancing up at Imogen, and then Kit again, brow creasing afresh.

"Your brother needs to start eatin'," Rick said quietly, making Imogen tense up, "he needs to get his strength back. He's refused to eat anythin' since those saltine crackers yesterday. No point in playin' the noble hero" -

- "He... he can't eat," Imogen said stiffly, her shoulders hunching.

"Why the hell not?"

Before Imogen could answer, the procession came to an abrupt halt, Abraham motioning silence with his machete. They watched as Abraham and Rosita then strode forth, despatching four Walkers roaming up ahead. The group all observed the execution with little interest, Rick's hand automatically reaching for his own red-handled machete, his gaze travelling to Carl and Judith caught between Glenn and Maggie, shielded on both sides, Tara flanking them.

"I require permission to take leave and urinate," Eugene said almost robotically to Rick, startling him.

"I'll escort you," Abraham said abruptly, coming over, "lil boy's room is this way, bud."

"Are they for real?" Imogen asked in an undertone, watching them head into the trees.

"Yeah, they are, unfortunately," Rick said, not really interested, before taking her elbow and leading her away from the others. "Why won't Kit eat?" he reiterated, refusing to let the subject drop.

Imogen stood there for a long moment before answering, trying and failing to hold herself together, reliving her ruin. "We – we were in that storage container for about three months – or so Kit theorized," she said from between gritted teeth, "he kept a rough count of the days; I didn't. There was no point. Like there was no point in fighting anymore. We tried that but we just got corralled – and they - they just took the kids first, then each day they would take someone else, either out of our storage container or one of the others, until it was just Sara, Kit and myself left."

She fell silent, her fists clenching by her side, Rick's gaze riveted on her face, forcing her to keep talking.

"We figured out early on what was happening," she continued, voice cracking, "but we – we always had this faint hope our people weren't dead yet, that they'd been moved elsewhere, that we still had a chance to save them. That's why we had to check the train cars... But deep down, we - we knew they were long gone, that we'd lost our last chance a long time ago."

Imogen half turned away from Rick, pushing the hair out of her eyes with a shaking hand, Rick half reaching for her, something in her face forcing him to drop his hand to his side.

"There was always new people arriving," she then choked out, "we'd hear them screaming and begging and cursing. Then it would go… quiet. It was just always the three of us in there though. We were never taken out and taken away like the others. Gareth was – he – he was raising us like turkeys for the slaughter. He – he said he liked people from different countries – you heard him yourself. So – so Kit told me and Sara to cut down what we were eating, and he did the same, to – to starve ourselves so we could buy time to try and figure a way out. It – it was nuts, but it worked – Gareth would come and weigh us, and he – he would get angry we were so thin" -

- "Imogen" -

- "You wanted to know, Rick," Imogen flared up, angrily dashing away a treacherous tear, "so this is me bloody telling you." She then wiped her nose with the back of her hand, the gesture abrupt. "Sara was Australian – for some reason, she was the main prize Gareth wanted on his plate," she then said, picking up the strands of her story again, tone becoming bitter, "and a few days ago, he got fed up of waiting and took her. But, again, I thought maybe she might be – be alive, like the others" -

- "Imogen" -

- "Gareth told them to process me next," Imogen said, face completely bloodless now. "The sick fuck left Kit for later though - said there was a new shipment of flesh he wanted to sort through first, and that was your lot, and here – here we are, I guess" She stared off into the middle distance for a long moment, before glancing up at Rick again. "That's why Kit won't eat," she then said, half closing her eyes, "but he has to, I know. But it's engrained in him now, Rick, and it's going to be a slow process both mentally and physically, to get back to normal. But he can't just eat on demand because you order him to. Me and Sara, we – we tried, back in the storage container, but we couldn't keep it up for long, we'd stop and start. Kit though, he did it, he hardly ate anything, only barely enough - and he – he tried to make us do the same but we couldn't, we couldn't keep it up sometimes – he was so angry and we - we were so hungry" -

- "Imogen!" Rick yelled, silencing her. "I've heard enough, I get it, okay!?" He knew he was being heartless, but he couldn't take it anymore. Imogen just turned away from him, Rick running his hand across his beard, exhaling sharply, ignoring the stares of the others. Instead, he studied Imogen's fall of tangled black hair; how his jacket hung off the sharp angles of her too thin frame. He imagined her in the darkness, starving herself to survive, the thought making Rick's hand reach for his red-handled machete again, remembering his promise to Gareth.

"You got history with her or somethin'?" Abraham asked curiously, making Rick glance up at him, brow furrowing. "You keep watchin' her," Abraham elaborated, addressing Rick as if he was an imbecile, "I was just wantin' to know why."

"What's it to you?" Rick said coolly, his gaze drifting to Imogen again, who was walking further up ahead, Judith balanced on her hip. Maggie was beside them, holding a more or less one-sided conversation with Imogen, who just nodded from time to time, grey eyes distant.

"Cos I'm a nosy sonuvabitch," Abraham said bluntly, "plus it's a way of gettin' to know you guys better."

Rick studied Abraham for a moment, reluctantly conceding the man had a point. They didn't know each other from Adam, Rick taking Glenn's word for it Abraham and the others were good people. "I knew her from before," he said, wiping away the sweat beading on his brow, "her and Kit both."

Abraham nodded, eyes narrowing against the harsh glare of sunlight. "Bit young for you, ain't she?" he said suddenly, startling Rick. "I know we ain't got much choice nowadays, what with the narrowin' down of datin' opportunities, but a guy's gotta draw the line somewhere" -

- "So says the middle-aged man with the hot young thing on his arm," Carol said, coming up the side of them, "do as I say but don't do as I do, hmmm? How old is Rosita exactly anyways, Abraham?" She smiled sweetly at Abraham as she spoke, who just looked at her, before striding ahead, crimson creeping up the back of his neck.

"Thanks," Rick said dryly, turning to Carol, "I think you just saved our new friend from a broken jaw."

"No problem," Carol said just as dryly, "glad I could help."

Rick grinned ruefully at this, Carol then eying him uneasily, still unsure of her place within the dynamics of the group. "I have to keep an eye on her," he then said, his grin fading, misinterpreting Carol's look as disapproval, "girl ain't the full shillin'. I don't want another Morgan on my hands."

"Then why do you trust her with your daughter?" Carol said slowly, glancing at Imogen with Judith, all her protective instincts roused, her fingers flexing in unconscious anticipation of a fight.

"She ain't a threat," Rick flared up, "not to me or mine" -

- "Daryl says she went for you with a meat cleaver," Carol said in disbelief, "that she went straight for the crown jewels" -

- "I ain't denyin' she's a wildcat," Rick snapped back, not wanting to remember Imogen attacking that particular part of his anatomy, "but that's what I'm countin' on to bring her back, that fight in her. She ain't one to take shit lyin' down, but again, it's a gamble, which is why I have to watch her" -

- "But if you can't talk her down from that ledge, it means she's a threat, Rick," Carol pressed, becoming angry, "that she's unstable and capable of anything" -

- "She's capable of comin' back from this," Rick retorted, "and she will. But I ain't denyin' she needs to buck up and fast" -

There was suddenly a commotion up ahead, chaos erupting, Walkers everywhere. Both Rick and Carol rushed forwards, drawing their blades as they moved. He yelled for Carl, desperately trying to find Judith in the fracas, only to see Imogen in the thick of the fight, Judith still balanced on her hip, screaming at the top of her lungs. Imogen and Maggie were battling back to back, Imogen trying to shield Judith from the slaughter, face feral as she beheaded a Walker with one blow with her machete.

Further up ahead, to Rick's shock, Kit took down two Walkers in quick succession, only for the last of his strength to suddenly leave him again. He collapsed to the ground, with three Walkers quickly descending on him, Kit trying and failing to boot them back, cursing to kingdom come -

"Get the fuck up!" Rick yelled, gunning them down.

Kit staggered to his feet, only to lose his balance, but not before dragging a Walker down to the ground with him, ramming his knife into its brain, the effort nearly finishing him off. As he did, Abraham shoved Eugene down beside him, Abraham, Rosita and Tara then forming a protective circle around them both. Rick fought his way over to Maggie and Imogen, grabbing Carl on the way, Michonne following, killing Walkers as they went.

"Get Imogen and Judy over to Abraham and the others," Rick ordered, "then take my lead, work your way outwards..."

The fight continued for another few minutes, but it felt like forever, Imogen wedged between Eugene and Kit, trying to calm Judith down, the baby's face now bright red with screaming. And then it was suddenly over, everybody laying down their weapons, only to instantly raise them again as Daryl emerged from the trees, laden with a brace of squirrels, lifting an eyebrow at the carnage before him.

"I surrender," he said deadpan, raising his worn hands.

"She likes you," Maggie said quietly to Imogen, nodding at Judith who was now clutching a hank of Imogen's hair, happily chewing on it.

"Hmmm," Imogen said, glancing down at Judith, "and there's me thinking I'd escaped the cannibals."

Maggie's mouth twitched but she didn't allow herself to smile, Imogen's offhand remark hitting a raw nerve. Terminus had been too close a call for all of them. "She does seem to be cultivatin' quite a taste for your hair," she said lightly, pushing the past aside.

"True," Imogen said, half wishing Maggie would walk on, half wishing she wouldn't. At first, the other woman's friendly attentions had annoyed her, but something about Maggie's direct green gaze and soft Southern accent reluctantly drew Imogen out of herself despite everything, breaking down her barriers.

"You... you got any lil ones of your own?" Maggie asked hesitantly, curiosity making her forget herself. She'd observed how Imogen seemed to be almost hoarding Judith to herself, always ready to take the baby in her arms.

Imogen looked away, not wanting to go back down that broken road, feeling the black hole that was her heart beginning to burn, the dead look in her eyes making Maggie wish she could take her words back.

"I'm sorry," Maggie said, grabbing Imogen's other hand impulsively, "I didn't mean to pry."

"It's... it's alright," Imogen said stiffly, making Maggie let go. They walked on in silence for a few more minutes, Imogen all too aware of Rick's blue gaze burning into her back again. "What about you?" Imogen asked abruptly, trying to ignore him. "You planning on popping out a few mini Maggie Mays any time soon?"

Maggie raised her eyebrows, slightly taken aback at Imogen's abruptness. "Obviously not right now," she said tersely, "but one day, hopefully." She ran her hand over Judith's wispy fair hair, unable to hide the longing on her face, to have what Imogen was holding.

"Jesus Christ," Imogen breathed, becoming distracted by Kit and Glenn, who appeared to be wrestling with a bit of wood bigger than both of them put together "what the hell's that?"

"Oh, it's a staff," Maggie said, raising her head, "Glenn said he'd try and fix somethin' up to help Kit walk since he's still a bit unsteady on his feet."

"Great, now he's gone Gandalf on us," Imogen muttered as Maggie went over to help them, Judith letting out an uncertain sob, gazing up at Imogen with wide watery eyes. "How now, chicklet," Imogen gently admonished, "don't start your squawking again." Judith's lower lip trembled threateningly, forcing Imogen to fall back on her fail-safe, holding Judith close to her shoulder and humming, the broken melody hurting her heart, its unsaid words striking her like whiplash. She had never sang since everything ended -

"So I drank myself some whisky," Rick quoted from behind her, making Imogen turn around in surprise, "and dreamed I was a cowboy and I rode across the border" -

- "If… if you love me," Imogen responded before she realised what she was doing, "say I love you" -

- "If you love me, take my hand" -

- "And you can say I love you, and you can have my hand," Imogen finished, her voice cracking. "You remember."

"Yeah, I do," Rick said quietly, studying her starved face, taking in the dark circles etched under her eyes, the high cheekbones thrown into sharp relief by hardship. Long ago, back at the diner, Imogen had taken to mocking his cowboy hat, Rick defending it with increasing asperity. Then she'd broken into song – that song - making him roll his eyes. The memory felt like it was from a life-time ago, but in that moment, it could have almost been yesterday.

Under the weight of his scrutiny, Imogen dropped her gaze to the ground, not wanting to see what she'd become reflected in his blue eyes. But Rick gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to face him, his brow furrowing at the sight of her fear.

"Remember what?" Carl asked as he came over, tilting back the brim of his father's sheriff's hat, the very same hat Imogen had mocked then.

"The time when Imogen was moved to song by that damn hat on your head," Rick said smartly, hastily dropping his hand to his side, "but I still think I sure did make one hell of a fine lookin' lawman back in the day."

"I was being sarcastic," Imogen snapped, reluctantly remembering Rick freshly shaved and showered, surprisingly spic and span in his sheriff's deputy get-up, cutting a strong contrast to how he looked now.

"When aren't you?" Rick countered, taking Judith from her.

"Whenever you aren't around."

"Well, my cowboy days are done," Rick said tiredly, nodding at Daryl as he went past, trying not to think they might be being followed. Daryl had discovered no tracks or clues to whoever might have been watching them last night, and Rick wasn't ready to fight another full-scale war right now, but he knew he might have to, whether he wanted to or not.

"Ready to get some concrete under your feet, peeps?" Abraham said, falling into step beside them, making Rick tense up, remembering Abraham's earlier outburst.

"I think it's time," Rick said tersely, glancing down at Judith who was now happily slobbering over his T-shirt.

"Sweet music to my ears, Officer," Abraham drawled. "We'll take the next road we come to, try to get back to goin' northwards, and find a vehicle. Sound good?"

"Good," Rick agreed, distractedly watching as Bob and Sasha shared several laughing kisses, bitterly reminding him of happier times with Lori. He deliberately avoided looking at Imogen, not wanting to make any further kind of comparison.

They walked on in silence for a few minutes longer, Rick unconsciously slowing his stride to match Imogen's again, Tyreese falling into step beside them too. Glenn, Maggie, and Kit were just up ahead, the others inbetween, with Abraham's eye on Eugene at all times, Rosita and Tara flanking him on either side. Then a scream suddenly shattered the silence, making Rick whirl around, drawing out his Colt Python as he did, the others copying his actions.

"Dad, come on!" Carl cried, blue eyes wild.

Rick hesitated, his mouth thinning, but the almost frustrated look on Carl's face decided him there and then, his son silently expecting him to step up, and so he did. Without a word, he passed Judith to Imogen, before taking off into the trees, the others hard on his heels, throwing themselves into the fray once more.