Judith considered herself to be a fairly observant person. The quality was something that she'd picked up from the adults in her life, mainly her Uncle Daryl. Though she wasn't entirely convinced that he came by it honestly. She was pretty damn sure that the reason he kept his hair so long was to hide the extra eyes and ears that were popping out of the back of his head. There was no way that the way he knew and saw and heard everything, was natural. He either had extra, hidden facial extremities or was part dog or something. Which would also explain the hair…

There was a chance that she was still a little loopy from blood loss and whatever medicine Dr Tomi had given her. And it probably wasn't helped by the small (gross) sip of wine she took while all the overs were celebrating their victory. Their safety. Their home. Our home.

But despite the expressions of freedom and joy pouring out of her family, she couldn't help but feel like something was horribly wrong with the way Rosita and Father Gabriel whispered quietly to each other at the end of the table. She guessed that she knew what was happening - what was about to happen.

But the optimist in her really hoped she was wrong. They'd just gotten so much back. She didn't want to lose someone else.

—-

Judith was one of the last to say her goodbyes to her Aunt Rosita. The childish part of her hoped that the longer it took for everyone to say goodbye, the longer it would take to happen. But she knew better. Her entire life existed within this dangerous world, and death was a major part of it. This wasn't her first go-around with losing someone to a bite, but she really hoped it would be the last.

The young girl walked into the quiet bedroom, Ezekiel turning in the chair he sat in next to the bed. He gave her a small smile and reached over to squeeze Rosita's hand one last time before he stood and left the room, giving Judith a small pinch on her arm as he passed.

Judith stood still near the doorway, not wanting to take that first step towards the woman laying in the bed. She could tell from where she was that her aunt had already lost most of her golden complexion in the few hours since dinner ended. And to be honest, this was the first time she'd been let to say goodbye to someone on her own. She'd always had another adult with her the other times - those times when they'd been able to say goodbye. There were too many times when they'd been too late as well.

Rosita shifted on the bed, trying, and just barely succeeding, to sit up a bit more. She gave the biggest smile she could and gestured for the young girl to join her near the bed. Judith slowly walked over and sat carefully in the chair Ezekiel had just vacated, not quite looking at the floor but also not looking her aunt in the eye. She wanted to stay strong, but she knew that once she really looked at one of the women who raised her, she'd break.

"Jude."

It was all it took for her to look up and see Rosita's hand reaching out to her, as her eyes wet with tears and her lips started to tremble. Judith rose from her seat and kicked off her shoes, crawling into the bed and resting her head on Rosita's stomach the way she used to when Coco was still in there. She kind of remembered that she'd done the same thing when her mom was pregnant with RJ, but with Rosita it was fresher in her mind. Growing up being surrounded by death, she was fascinated with life, and her aunt never seemed to mind when she wanted to listen for the sounds of the baby moving within her.

Now though, as Rosita's hand came down to stroke Judith's hair, she heard nothing. Not even regular stomach sounds. Maybe that was something that happened when…

Judith sniffled and squeezed her aunt a little tighter, still not wanting to think of what was to come. With Rosita using what energy she had to run her fingers through her hair, and all the events from the past few days, it was easy to doze off.

—-

She didn't know how much time had passed but she awoke to Aaron softly shaking her shoulder, but guessed it had been an hour at least. The room was a tad bit darker as if the sun had set some, and she felt rested. She looked at him before looking at her aunt, noticing that her eyes were closed. Judith panicked before noticing the slight rise and fall of the woman's chest.

They'd simply fallen asleep and taken a nap. Not the first time they'd done this but it would be the last.

She frowned and sat up, trying not to move too much and wake Rosita up. She needed her rest to gain as much energy as she could before…

It was inevitable, she knew, but she still didn't want to dwell on it if she didn't have to. Not yet. So she slowly moved off the bed and slipped on her shoes, wanting to get out of Aaron's way so that he had his chance to say goodbye to her aunt as well. But as she went to move past him, he motioned for her to sit back down as he took the chair. Judith settled back down on the edge of the bed and looked at Gracie's dad.

He smiled softly at her before speaking quietly. "Did you know that the first conversation I had with Rosita, she threatened me about hurting you?"

Judith's eyes went wide as she took in the admission. "She did?" The young girl knew that her family had come across Aaron and Alexandria when she was still just a baby. But she couldn't ever imagine Aaron doing anything to hurt her. He never hesitated when it came to protecting their family but he was one of the most kind and good-hearted people she knew. Her Aunt Rosita on the other hand was much more the shoot first and ask later type.

Aaron smiled and huffed out a small laugh. "Oh yeah." His grin grew as the memory flipped through his mind. "We were on our way to Alexandria, packing up and heading out from the barn you all stayed in during the storm. You were about 8, maybe 9 months old." He smiled again, a gentle one. "I didn't think I'd ever see a baby again. I was so excited for you all to meet Eric. We had always wanted to have kids."

Judith kept her eyes on her uncle while he spoke though he kept his eyes on the window. Not quite looking out, but staring all the same towards the fading light. And even when she thought he'd be sad, talking about Eric, he kept smiling, at least a little. She was surprised. Usually when Aaron talked about his husband he...didn't do so well. But this time it seemed different. He was lost in the memories and she stayed silent to keep him in.

"I couldn't stop looking at you." He lifted his eyes to hers then and she could see love there. "Carl was holding you most of the time. Your parents were arguing," he laughed, "I'm not sure if you remember but there were a lot of times they didn't agree on things. Trusting me being one of them."

She grinned then too, for a moment forgetting where they were and why he was telling her this in the first place. She did remember her parents disagreeing a lot when she was younger. When they were both still around. Nothing specific, these arguments. Nothing truly hostile, just…two people who were both used to being right.

"They kept me within eyesight, but away from everyone else. Not wanting me to hear things, I'm sure, but not wanting me to be able to run and warn whoever I had hiding in the forest." He chuckled at the implication. As if. "She," he said pointedly, "snuck up behind me. Scared me, she was so damn quiet. Even back then she could've rivaled Daryl's creeping." They both smiled at each other knowing that while Daryl moved through the woods without making a single sound, Rosita was a very close second.

His smile faltered, but it held. "We were all so much younger then. When I first saw her I thought she was playing dress-up." For the first time since he walked in the room he frowned. "She and Maggie were the youngest other than you and Carl." His lips twitched and he turned his gaze back towards the window and the ever-fading daylight. "She looked like something out of a video game. The tough, badass, post-apocalyptic soldier. A fighter." He stopped to look over at the figure on the bed. "And she was."

He paused again to gather his thoughts before continuing. "Living in Alexandria back then, we were so naive to what was happening elsewhere. Sure, we knew about the dead, lost some people. But we were kept from the worst of it in the beginning. Not like the rest of you." He sighed and looked towards the bed. "She was a lot older than she looked when we first met. That first year after the end aged her more than any of her ones before. I shouldn't have second-guessed what I saw when I looked at her."

Aaron fell silent then, watching darkness creep in through the window. She let a few moments pass before interrupting his thoughts, and spoke for the first time since he'd started his story. "What'd she say?"

He turned away from the window again and smiled at her softly but before he could speak another voice inserted itself into the conversation causing both their heads to turn to the figure laying on the bed.

"I said," she started, voice not quite the same as always but still strong. "'If you do anything to put her in harm's way, you won't even have enough time to think of a way to save yourself before I get to you.'" Rosita breathed heavily, a sign of her failing health, but still managed to smirk. "And I meant it."

—-

Two days later Judith stood with the rest of her family as they took turns laying flowers across the mound of dirt that now covered Rosita's body. She wasn't sure which aunt or uncle had been the one to help Rosita…end. And make sure she wouldn't rise again.

It happened late last night, long after she'd been hurried off to bed to toss and turn before falling into a sleep full of scattered dreams.

She'd come down for breakfast that morning and was met with the resigned faces of Maggie and Daryl, and she knew it was over. Judith sat at the counter as her aunt fluttered around the kitchen trying to make breakfast for everyone. Her uncle sat at the table with the boys trying to raise their spirits. They all picked at their plates as they thought of the funeral they'd be attending later on in the day.

Now, at the gravesite, she listened as Gabriel finished his sermon with his daughter in his arms. Nearly everyone had offered to hold her but he insisted – wanted to keep her close. Judith watched as she squirmed and turned her head in every direction, starting to fuss and whine. Likely looking for her mother in the crowd.

Judith fidgeted as well, uncomfortable with yet another funeral and hesitant to deal with her own grief. She tried to make as little movement as possible as tears collected in her eyes. Judith, at least, could hope that one day she'd see her mother again. Coco was going to grow up without that luxury.

Soon the members of her extended family began to drift away, back to the daily tasks that would keep their communities afloat. Yet the young girl stood still, unable to move away and go on with her day after something, someone so monumental in her life was just buried. She wasn't sure how long she was frozen in place next to the mound of dirt before Judith sensed someone standing next to her. She didn't have to look up to know who it was.

Her Uncle Aaron always held a solid, undemanding presence; an effortless kind of calm.

They stood side-by-side, silent, until Judith turned away from the sight before her to look up at her uncle. "What now?" she asked. The war was won, her family safe, enemies (both living and dead) were far away. There were no battles to prepare for, no fires to put out, and no more bodies to be buried. Sure, they needed to rebuild Alexandria, and Hilltop if possible, and reshape the Commonwealth into something good. But both of them knew that that wasn't what she meant with that question.

We've all got jobs to do, her aunt Maggie would say, but she wasn't sure how. Not when so many things in the world, so many things about herself, had changed.

"Rosita," Aaron started, breaking his silence, "was one of the strongest people I've ever known. From the moment I met her I knew that she was a force to be reckoned with." He grinned at the memory of their first encounter for the second time in as many days. "She loved fiercely and defended recklessly, and she helped build this place into something that would be safe for you and Coco." He wavered slightly to catch a breath. "She fought for this family, fought to the end. And she'd expect us to do the same."

Judith absorbed his words and looked out past the graveyard into the heart of Alexandria where members of the community were mending the fences and scavenging in the gardens. "So we fight?"

"Yes," he nodded at her. "We fight for each other, for our future, for humanity. And we don't give up, no matter what comes at us."

The young girl nodded, understanding. "Make sure we have something worth dying for," she said mostly to herself.

Aaron smiles remembering the words he'd heard from Rosita more than once over the years. "Exactly." He gestures over towards the steps of the house she grew up in where RJ was sweeping away debris. "Want to help clean up the houses or replant the gardens?"

She glanced between the two before settling her eyes even further across the courtyard where her Uncle Daryl and Ezekiel were loading up some wagons to take back to the Commonwealth. She knew that Ezekiel planned on being a part of getting the community back on its feet, and it appeared as if he'd be taking off soon with Mercer, Princess, and a few others. Watching them pack food and supplies into the buggy she got an idea.

"How about I go with the convoy back to the Commonwealth?"

Aaron smirked again, realizing again that Judith was no longer a child who they could keep from jumping in on the more "grown-up" tasks. "Just let Daryl know, I think he's going too." If he wasn't before, he probably would be once Judy volunteered.

She gave him a wide smile before bounding off towards the wagons. Aaron smiled at her before raking his eyes over the rest of the community, seeing his daughter laugh and dance around the garden beds with Maggie as they worked to rebuild their home. He turned his head as Gabriel handed Coco over to Eugene, the men exchanging words of comfort and care. Finally, he looked back toward the fresh grave where his friend would rest permanently.

"We're going to be ok," he told her in a for-now goodbye. "And I mean it."