Hello my dearies!

This chapter turned out to be pretty long, so I've made it into three parts. The second and third should be up fairly quickly, I just want to do a last few edits on it. Sorry for the long wait. I do believe it was worth it.

:)

Please let me know what you think. I can only get better with helpful critiques. If I'm not told that something doesn't work, then I can't improve. I love writing and only want to get better.

I won't keep you anymore! Please enjoy


The steadily rising sun shines onto the tent. My eyes flutter open and it takes a few blinks to adjust to the the bright light. The last thing I remember is darkness and a fitful sleeping Rick. My own slumber wasn't very restful. Whenever he fretted I woke to settle him — whispering sweet words in his ear and cradling him closer.

Shuffling footsteps and sniffles catch my attention. There's a small figure — Carl no doubt — silhouetted by the light and bending to undo the zip. Rick wakes with the noise and has enough time to get his bearings before Carl dives between the two of us and clings to Rick, who shifts to better comfort his son. I lean on my elbow and caressing the sobbing child's hair.

Glancing to Rick — his blue eyes dark — we're both upset that Carl is only now coming to us. Rick desperately wants to comfort his son, but looking at the sheriff — eyebrows converged in the middle and a frown in place — he doesn't know how to begin. The man needs the same reassurance as the boy.

My eyes flick between Carl and Rick. "Do you know the wonderful thing about Dale?"

The boy rolls over, eyes red and puffy — tears falling — and blotchy cheeks. He shakes his head, shaggy brown locks swaying with the motion.

I wipe away the tears and run a hand through his hair. "He loved life. Tried to preserve it, even in this life." My eyes find Rick's. "The best way to honour him is to keep going. For us to live."

Carl curls tighter against his father. "But he's gone."

I take him into my arms. "But he won't be forgotten. We'll remember him and we'll always have him here." My hand brushes over his heart. "Mourn briefly Carl, for his love of life is what we should focus on."

He sniffs and scrubs at his face, then turns back over to hug his dad. There's no rush to get the morning started. We lie in silence, dozing and talking. Eventually Carl leaves — probably to find Soph — and Rick pulls me closer. My head rests on his chest, with one of his hands intertwined with mine and the other softly caressing my back.

He kisses my forehead. "Thank you."

I shift to hover over him, one hand keeping me up while the other caresses his face. "I mean it Rick." My hand runs over his cheek, ghosting over his slow growing beard. "Take today to mourn, but honour him by living."

His eyes are intense and seeping sorrow. "What am I going to do?"

I kiss him gently, then pull back to smooth his forehead. "What you have been doing. Making the best of a horrible situation. You're not alone and you know that. You've got me, D, Daryl and even Merle — he's been a big help with Chester."

Rick snorts. "Who would have thought?" We smile at one another. His mouth drops into a frown. "He was our moral compass."

"We haven't lost that Rick."

"He didn't want us killing Chester."

Large, rough phantom hands are back around my neck and visions of hostile eyes bore into mine. My heart beat picks up, my throat closes and trembling starts in my fingers — he'll kill me and then he'll kill the kids.

Firm hands brush hair away from my face, forcing me out of my flashback. "Lauren." His voice is soft.

I swallow and clear my throat. "He would have accepted the truth. It would just have taken a devastating attack from the brute."

We do get up, though the temptation to stay is almost too much. I'm pretty sure that if Rick — of all people — doesn't surface, no on will. It's amazing the amount of power he has other them, whether they'll admit it or not. However, what seems to make this day a little worse is the weather. A bright clear sunny day is waiting for us, with fluffy white marshmallow clouds. Normally it would be a cause for joy, but with Dale's funeral ahead of us…

Rick stands in full uniform dress, his iconic hat perched on his head, at the head of Dale's grave — drooping shoulders, gaze on the ground and hands clasped loosely behind his back — with Herschel next to him. The rest of us are gathered in a half circle. Carl's clutching my waist, his head digging into my stomach and he's shaking ever so slightly. Sophia's stance mimics his as she grips her mother. D's hand is clasped in mine. Daryl rubs her back.

Those that wanted to say a word about Dale have — Amy and Andrea being the first — but it's Rick who has the duty of the eulogy.

"…In the end he was talking about losing our humanity. He said this group is broken. The best way to honour him is to unbreak it. We're going to prove him wrong."

We take a moment of silence. Commemorating the man. Well, we're meant to. Lori's glaring at me. Her eyes switching between her son and I — who's wrapped in my arms. I should feel bad, she is his mother. She should be the one comforting him. What mother wants to see her child in the arms of another woman? But Lori's made no effort to be there for him when the funeral started nor did she bother with him last night. He stayed with Carol and Sophia.

It was surprising how hurt I'd been when he confessed it. But I hadn't wanted to make him uncomfortable by making a bigger deal of it than Rick had. It could have been guilt that kept him away, or perhaps worry that he and Sophia would be in trouble for sneaking off.

They know something.

One last glance — though I don't know why — in Lori's direction and I'm staring into Shane's dark, unreadable eyes. Hopefully he stays out of this thing between Lori and I. One attack by the living is enough. Turning away from them, Daryl's standing stiffly with D by his side and Merle, with arms crossed, leans on one foot. I smirk at him — he kind of looks like their bodyguard. T-Dog and Andrea seem to be holding up, but tears are leaking. Amy's cuddled into Jimmy, sobbing and clutching at Andrea's hand like a lifeline and Maggie tries her best to support Glenn. Herschel, Patricia and Beth stand together — the two women crying — but are keeping apart from everyone else.

The funeral ends and the group disperses — probably to grieve on their own. D squeezes my hand and in reply my smile is lopsided — we hardly seek the others comfort these days. She follows Daryl and Merle. Caressing Carl's hair there's a heavy feeling in my heart as I watch Sophia and her mum. Sharp tones catch my attention and Shane's pulling Rick aside, tearing into him. Lori's hovering, still glaring, though now she's added muttering to her childish act.

With eyes trained on Shane and Rick I angle my body towards Carol. "Can you keep an eye on the kids?"

She places a hand on my shoulder, "Of course."

I kiss Carl on the head. "I'll back. You stay with Carol and Soph, okay?"

"Sure."

I kneel and force him to look me in the eyes. "If you need anything, don't you dare hesitate to ask. Got it?"

The corners of his lips tilt up. "I got it."

I kiss his cheek and then head towards Rick, passing Lori. "Oh, for Christ's sake. Stop being a child. If you want to comfort your son, do it! Don't stand there feeling out of sorts for your own misgivings." My speed picks up as does my heavy footsteps — the nerve of that woman.

Shane's stomping off when I get to him. "Rick?"

His shoulders are hunched, head is down and eyes are slightly wet and a little swollen. "How can I lead everyone if I can't lead my own son?" He drops to the ground, a few tears leaking.

I sit and pull him into my arms "What did the Jackass say?"

"Carl's responsible for Dale's death."

I caress his head and brush my lips over his forehead. "Shane's not exactly stable Rick. Don't take to heart what he says."

There's a brief pause before he's ripping away from me. "You think it's his fault."

I blink at him and then shift so that I'm leaning against the house, hands hanging over my bent knees. "Excuse me?"

He glares and stands, pacing around a small area. "You've been looking at those kids since they came back, you've been…"

"Something happened in those woods, that had Carl and Sophia running back doused in guilt and fear." I get to my feet. "Do I think they know something about it? Yeah, I do. Whether or not they're directly involved, I don't know. I haven't talked to them about it."

Rick stops and looks away, bowing his head and taking his hat off to run his hand roughly through his hair. "I'm sorry."

I step close to him, turning his face my way and kiss him deeply. "We are not going to argue over this. We will discuss things like adults. There will be no miscommunications. I will not lose you to that."

"I'm sorry."

"Shane has no right to say any of that. He's angry that Carl's yours, he's furious that you're taking leadership and everyone's fine with that. He's not stable."

"I know."

"We will confront the kids about their involvement, but until we hear from them there's no use in blaming anyone."

Once everyone has had some time to themselves, we all gather in the house. It's Rick and Herschel working on getting organised. Rick designates some of the company with various jobs to add to security, including watch points throughout the farm. Herschel starts taking care of the sleeping arrangements. It's getting colder outside. Not sure about the others but I don't have much winter gear with me — plus it'll be safer inside.

Somehow I end up playing therapist. It started with Patricia, then escalated from there. All I wanted was a drink. A hot lemon and honey to sooth my nerves — and figure out what to say to the kids. Entering the kitchen, the older woman is already by the sink, dark eyes starring out the window, lips at a downward tilt.

"Hey Trish."

"Hi." her voice is barely above a whisper.

"You got to know Dale pretty well, huh?"

A faint blush creeps up her neck. "Uh…"

"He was a good man."

She places a hand to her cheek. "That noticeable?"

I smile at her. "Not really, for the most part my focus has been on the kids." Turning back to the window, we watch as the company bring the vehicles closer to the house.

"He was always so kind, giving. We'd talk when everyone else was doing their own thing — when he wasn't watching out for walkers…" She lowers her voice. "Or Shane."

"It's not easy to lose anyone."

Tears prick her eyes. "It's not fair. Why him?"

Rubbing her back, hoping to bring some comfort, a frown touches my lips. "I couldn't tell you." There's a small pause while we stare out at the commotion outside. "I could tell you that life's not fair, that everything happens for a reason, that there's a higher purpose for him — but all it would be is words." I lick my lips, trying to rack my brain to find something to say. "The truth is, we're in hell. Perhaps Dale's in a better place. Or maybe his nothing anymore…"

Patricia's gaze snaps to mine. "Do you believe that?"

"What do you believe?"

Her eyes narrow, set in a strong belief. "He's not nothing. Dale is in a better place, he's with his wife."

"Probably dragging her on some sort of RV trip."

A twitch of her lips and her eyes are a little lighter. "I can see that happening."

"Dale was all about life. We would best to honour him by living, standing up against whatever this is and enjoying what we still have."

Patricia nods. "Thank you."

Patting her arms, a smile takes hold. "Why don't you go find Herschel, he could use your support."

She disappears around the corner just as Glenn comes into the kitchen. There are bags under his red and puffy eyes. He looks around the kitchen, eyes flicking to the fridge, the counter, never stopping on anything for long. He shifts on his feet, his body turned as though he's going to walk back out.

"Oh Glenn." Opening my arms for him, he takes the invitation and collapses into them, shoulders shaking. "I know."

He buries his head into the crook of my neck. "Why? Why him?"

"Perhaps his wife was calling?"

He chokes on a reluctant laugh. "Loz."

I hug him closer, then pull back. "You can't say that I'm wrong."

His lips quiver and he shakes his head. "Why so violently?"

I focus on settling him in a chair, ignoring the rhetorical question. He sits hunched in the chair, elbows braced on his knees and head in his hands. I putter around the kitchen making tea for two. Honey Lemon to be exact. It's a soothing, healthy drink and there always seems to be an abundant of lemons in the kitchen.

"The only thing I can say is wrong place, wrong time."

He tilts his head to stare at me, his eyes dull and lips pursed. "Really?"

"There's no rhyme or reason to what happened Glenn. If you keep asking that question it's going to drive you insane."

The water boils and the lemon juice is squeezed into two mugs. I add in honey to sweeten it and bring a mug to the Asian. We sit silently. Glenn staring into his drink and me, sitting beside him, eyeing the boy warily.

I clear my throat. "Don't think of his passing Glenn."

"It's not really a passing if he was devoured."

"He wasn't devoured."

"Nearly."

I huff at him and nudge his leg with mine. "You know damn well that it wasn't even close. Focus on the good memories — when he showed you how to fix the RV, or when we'd sit around the camp fire telling stories."

He glances up from the mug to stare at me.

"When you start getting upset or start missing him, think back on the good times." I point my finger at him. "Yes, it's cliche, but that's not to say it's a bad thing. Remember the time we stole his hat?"

Glenn laughs and shakes his head. "Yeah, he tasked the kids with chasing after us. After they cornered us and pinned us down, he preceded to dump buckets of water on us until we gave it back."

"See, he's not really gone."

Glenn chuckles and finishes the drink. "Thanks." He stands and bends to hug me. "Thank you."

"Whatever you need Glenn."

Taking his mug to the sink to wash it, my eyes stray to the window again. All our tents and supplies are being taken down and packed. Those outside are sorting through it all — what should be packed away and what we'll need to keep with us.

"Um, Lauren?"

Beth shuffles into the kitchen and sits at the table. Though wary of her presence I start the jug again and grab another mug, squeezing juice into it, and refilling mine while I'm at it. My eyes don't leave her as I grab the honey.

"What can I do for you?"

Her heads down and she's fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Patricia says I should talk to you."

I pour in the water, and stir, taking them to the table. "Okay," I drawl, lips pursed and eyebrows lowered. "Do you want to?"

She glances up briefly as the mug is placed in front of her. "I don't know."

I breathe in the scent of the tea, the hot citrus soothing my troubles, and settle in my seat. "Does this have anything to do with Dale? Or rather just talking in general? "

Her head snaps up and she stares at me wide eyes. "Uh…"

"Are you hesitant because of all the things Amy's filled you with, about me?"

Her shoulders lift and fall, but her gaze doesn't leave the mug.

I hold in a sigh and lean back in the chair, angling myself to get the best view out the window. There's a possible chance…no a high chance, that this is going to take awhile. It's no use pressuring her to talk, it won't get me very far. The better option is to wait until she leaves or words start spilling from her mouth.

What was Patricia thinking? How the hell can I help Beth? She doesn't like me. Whether or not it's because of what Amy said, I'll never know. I'm not asking.

"I just kept thinking they were sick." Beth mutters. "Dad told us they were sick. That we just had to wait for a cure or something." She runs a finger around the edge of the mug. "And then mom was shot down." She lifts her head and stares wide eyed. "I never expected her to try and eat me!"

It takes a lot of willpower to keep from snorting out loud — I doubt anyone expects their mother to try and devour them. "I can't imagine how that must have been. You not alone though."

Her eyes narrow and a sneer turns the corner of her lips up. "Going to tell me you know how I feel?"

I raise an eyebrow. "No, but Maggi does. She's lost just as much as you."

"But, she's found Glenn."

"You're dad lost the love of his life."

Her chin drops to her chest and her cheeks redden. "I know."

Geez Louise! What a selfish girl. I get that she's had a shock, she's needed time to adjust, but her thoughts are only of herself. Maggie and Herschel are still here for her. She's clinging to childish tantrums. I lean forward, eyes narrow and lips thin. "I get it. This isn't easy to come to terms with, but you have got to sort your shit out."

Her head jerks back, mouth falls open and a gasp escapes.

"This is a new world where monsters roam. The wide-eyed girl will die if she can't come to terms with it. You miss your mum, I get that. But you have spent your life with her, think on the happy memories. But don't forget that your sister and your dad need you."

She nods and drinks the last of her tea, then leaves. I finally get a bit of time to myself, finishing the last of the dishes. A sigh bubbles up, and a low thrum starts at the back of my head. The talks haven't been that long, it just feels like hours. The sun is still up, the heat bearing down on everyone outside, but it's not as bad as last week. Winter is coming.

"Lauren."

I turn to see Andrea leaning against the archway, eyes flicking around like she doesn't want to be caught. This doesn't bode well for me or my peace. There's a reason I never furthered my education in counselling — my ability to care about stranger's problems is zero. Then again, no one here are strangers. The only one I could have done without is Beth. I'm not even sure what I said did anything for anyone.

"Hey Andrea. How're you holding up?"

She shrugs and sits on the chair Beth vacated. "I can't believe he's gone." She rests her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. "Why him?"

Holding in a heavy sigh, I make more tea. "Some people aren't cut out for this world."

Andrea scoffs.

Silence envelopes the kitchen. She's lost in her thoughts and I'm trying to figure out what else to say. I may have taken psychology and even a counselling class at university, but that doesn't mean my career was going be set around listening to other people's problems.

Bringing the mugs over to the table, I sink into the chair opposite her. "He loved life too much to continue on with us all."

"How can you say that?"

"He's pretty much the only one who voted to keep Chester alive — despite knowing the kind of danger the brute could rain down on us."

Andrea mumbles through her drink. "Amy voted against it."

I shrug. "You and I both know it's because she wants an argument. Your sister's cracking."

She grinds her teeth. "You think I don't know that!" Her shoulders slump and she refuses to meet my eyes. "I'm still grateful for everything you've done for us. For saving Amy…I…" A long heavy breath leaves her slightly parted lips. "I'm just tired of it all."

"Who's not? Don't think of what you've lost, think of where he is."

"Dead."

"With his wife."

Her face reddens and she pulls her arms and legs towards her core. "He talked a lot about her when he found us. The love he has…" a frown tugs at her lips. "Had…for her was easy to hear."

"It's not all bad."

There's a dark look in her eyes. "Why do we bother?"

I lean back and think on her words. They're valid. I mean, why keep living in such a world? Why not just give in to the inevitable? An image of Rick flashes in my minds eye, then D cuddled up to Daryl. "I don't want to leave Rick or D."

Her gaze finds mine and she stares at me, her brows knitted together and her forehead puckered.

A flush creeps across my face. Now I can't hold her gaze. "I want to know what it's like to…you know." I cringe, the word 'sex' not able to pass my lips.

"You've never…"

"Nope. I never found anyone worth my time back home." There's an awkward pause. I clear my throat. "Rick won't considerate it, giving up, not after coming so far. Carl and Sophia don't want to die. Don't you have anything to live for?"

Her brows lower and her shoulders twitch. "Once upon a time I'd have said Amy." She turns away from me and rubs her arms. "Now, now I don't know."

"Why not live to find something?"

"I don't…"

"If you give up, what's to say that Amy doesn't come right? What's to say we don't find another survivor who you could have a future with? Isn't that in itself worth living for?"

Her lips purse slightly and there's a glazed look to her eyes. She nods at me, already lost to her thoughts and wanders off. I barely get time to breathe before T-Dog shows up, it's mighty awkward at first — at least on my half. We haven't spent a lot time around each other, and that was before Jacqui decided to get blown up. This 'session' takes longer than the others. Possibly because he knows we aren't that well acquainted, or perhaps because he's still trying to deal with Jacqui's decision. There's also his near fatality on the highway as well as the death of our own moral compass.

Because let's face it, Dale was the epitome of life and morality. It's just a shame that the man was a bit too much into life. This probably won't be the last time Rick, and us, have to make life and death judgements. The sheriff needs all the support he can get. To have Dale question him would cause a rift in our group. More than there is already.

I finally get rid of him. Now I just want to curl up and sleep. Who knew this would be so exhausting? Unfortunately Carol ambles in. I'm going to have to start charging people soon. Luckily the woman seems to be keeping it together better than the others. She's upset but knows we're going to lose people. The woman's more touchy feel-y than the others, gripping my hand as she expresses her gratitude for saving her daughter. It's easy to talk to her. Well, I don't do a lot of talking. She talks, I listen — adding in my two cents every now and then.

After what feels like a few minutes she's leaving with a grateful smile and a squeeze to my shoulder. I sit back and listen to the quiet. The only way I'd make this different is if Rick was with me. Just the two of us, sitting anywhere and taking comfort in the other's presence. When he's around everything feels better. I don't worry as much.

Maybe I should go find him? Make him take some time for himself. We could totally make out like high schoolers.

"What's got you grinning like a loon?" D voices from the archway.

I jump, head snapping in her direction. My smile fades, "Rick."

Her eyes are puffy and red, cheeks splotchy and she's holding herself at the waist. She snorts, taking a seat at the table. "I should have guessed." A smirk twitches at the corner of her lips. "Heard you're putting your degree to good use."

I huff and lean back in the chair. "Feel like I'm saying the same things over and over again."

"Seems to be helping. Patricia looks less grief stricken, Glenn and Andrea are fixing the RV —reminiscing. Saw them laughing, smiling. Hell, Beth's no longer so shell-shocked with everything and even T-Dog looks to be holding it better since his chat with you."

"Too bad I'm not getting paid for this."

The sly little curve of her lips and the twinkle in her eyes doesn't bode well for me. Her eyebrow wiggles. "Maybe Rick will pay you back?"

I blush and giggle. "Daryl Chinnary!"

We chuckle, though it dies down and the kitchen is silent again. "Got any words for me?"

My smiles quivers. "Apart from we knew this was going to happen?"

"Yeah, apart from that."

I tilt back on the chair and stare at the ceiling. "Dale loved life too much," The front legs of the chair crash down and my gaze is on D. "It's most likely going to get a lot worse before it gets better. He'd want to save everyone, even if they're not worth it."

"Chester."

I nod. "It'd only be worse for us all if he continued advocating for everyone's survival. We all have to make hellish decisions — everyone relying on Rick to make most of them. It wouldn't be good for moral if Dale's questioning and hounding Rick." I pause to get my thoughts in order. "If he stopped, if Dale no longer sought for life, he'd not be the man we know. His spirit would suffer and he'd change. He'd be gone either way. At least like this he's untainted."

Tears fall but she's smiling. "Thank you."

I drag D to her feet and pull her into a tight hug. "I'm here for you D, I'll always be here for you. No matter what, you want to talk, we will."

"I know. I love you."

I kiss her cheek. "I love you too."