We had dragged the man, Morgan, into the building that he had been living in. It was Rick's decision to do so. Apparently, Morgan was the first person he saw after waking up from his coma.

Rick's conscience would never allow him to refuse a friend in need, even if that friend shot at him and put booby traps around. Morgan was clearly unstable but Rick didn't seem to look at it that way.

I didn't care about Morgan, only about the many weapons he had in his possession. As soon as we put him down, we started packing things up. We needed all of this if we were going to survive the upcoming war.

"No. We're gonna wait for him to wake up. Make sure he's okay."

"You can't be serious. Rick, he tried to kill us. And we're supposed to shower him with kindness?"

I glared at him as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Morgan is a threat and should be treated like one. If we lower our defenses, he could use it against us.

"He told us to go. He didn't know who we were." Rick tried to justify his old friend's actions.

An annoyed sigh left my lips as I sat down on one of the chairs in his flat. It was a cozy place to settle in for a lone wolf.

And it was armed enough for him to take down whoever crossed his path.

"He tried to kill us and we didn't leave him for the walkers. He's had a good day. He doesn't need half of these guns, we do." Michonne argued.

It felt refreshing to have someone on my side. Although people listen to me more than they did before, they still think I'm not thinking clearly. Just because my opinion isn't always a moral one.

"We're waiting for him to wake up. That's it." Rick said.

Unlike Michonne, I knew it was best not to argue with him. I'm aware of the irony of that statement, trust me.

Rick will only listen up to a point. Everything after that is pointless because he will have already made up his mind.

"Have you taken a look around this place? The axe, the spikes, the wall." Michonne commented.

His entire house looked like something out of a horror movie. But then again, this whole world was one giant horror. Who wouldn't succumb to it?

"You think he's crazy?"

"No. I think he's dangerous."

A heavy sigh left my lips at their argument. Despite Rick's claims that he knew the man, Morgan whoever, it was clear that this wasn't the same man from before. People change, especially in this world.

"We're gonna wait for him to wake up." Rick stated.

I got up from the chair and went straight for the door. If I wanted to, I could've slipped away before Rick could catch up to me. I was fast enough to do it. I just didn't have the strength to.

As I exited the building, his footsteps followed waiting for an explanation. It was comforting that he knew that I'd give one. I turned to face him only to frown at the wariness on his face.

He looked as if though he was waiting for me to snap in half and yell at him. That look on his face has been present ever since we left the prison. I've been ignoring it, choosing to believe that it'll go away.

"I'm gonna search the town, see what I can find." I said.

I turned my back to him so I wouldn't have to keep looking at his stupid, concerned face. My heart raced in my chest at the thought of him trying to mention the events of last night.

Although I doubt Daryl told him what happened between us, Rick was pretty good on picking up signs. It's one of the things that I both like and dislike about him.

"You can't keep running away from your problems, Josephine." Rick said softly.

His words didn't stop me from moving forward. It was like hearing them from under water, muted and distorted.

The more I moved away from him, the worse it got. While I still had the ability to, I mumbled out a quick response.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'll be back soon."

My words sounded weak even to me. I didn't come here to search for guns. Although that was a pretty good distraction, what I needed was release. A place to let out all my pent-up frustration.

I didn't make it far from the neighborhood. At least not far enough for my taste. I barged into the first house I saw and took out my knife. I could hear the groaning of walkers, but it didn't feel like I could see them.

My eyes were open and I was aware of the everything I was doing. Yet it all felt like a haze. Every walker that I put down, I put down by mere instinct. I didn't see their faces, why would I? They didn't matter.

The only face I saw was the one that I didn't want to see, the one that I drove away from for hours just to get a glimpse of peace. But even here, I could see Daryl's face after I broke his heart.

All this time I kept telling myself that it wouldn't work out, that I wasn't built for a relationship. And it's not like I lied. I'm not built for it. But I just didn't think I'd end up breaking my own heart. I always worried he'd realize how fucked up I am and leave me.

It was the right thing to do. However, that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt like hell. I was happy. For a split second, I was actually happy. Despite the oncoming war and all the other shit I've been through.

When I finally snapped out of my daze, it was because there was nothing for me to stick my knife in. There were dozen of dead walkers around me and I was breathing heavily. I released my grip on the knife and allowed myself to fall on my knees.

I'm just so fucking exhausted of this life. My moods are constantly either extremely low or high, I either get my ass kicked or I kick ass and I never, ever make the right decisions. No matter what I do or say, someone always gets hurt. Physically or emotionally, it doesn't really matter.

I took a deep breath to steady my breathing and looked down. My hands and my shirt were covered in walker blood. I groaned in annoyance before getting up and finding the bedroom. Within its closet, I was able to find a sweater to put on to hide some of the blood.

As for my hands, I cleaned them in the sink. The blood washed away and yet I still didn't feel clean. I ignored the feeling just like I ignored everything else. As I finished up tidying myself up, I went downstairs to retrieve my knife before leaving.

I passed by the house and saw Morgan clearing his traps. He glanced at me before returning to his work. Huh, perhaps Rick was right about him. Michonne and Rick were waiting by the car for me.

"What happened?" She asked.

I followed her gaze to the front of my shirt. The sweater didn't cover the entirety of the blood coating my clothing. I shrugged glancing at Carl in the car.

"Just ran into some walkers. Nothing I couldn't handle." I replied.

Rick sighed as he motioned to Michonne to give us a minute. Oh, great. He wasn't letting me off the hook after all. I thought our brief conversation would've shown him that I didn't want to talk about it.

"Look, I don't know what went down between you and Daryl-"

"You're right. You don't."

He flinched at the way I snapped at him. I took a deep breath to remind myself that Rick wasn't the enemy. He was just worried, like always. I wanted to yell at him to leave me alone and that I could handle my own shit.

But why waste my breath? He was going to keep pushing unless I said something to keep his mind at bay. That's just who he is and God knows there's no changing him.

"I don't want to talk about it, Rick. I don't even want to think about it. So please just stop and save us both the trouble." I replied.

He swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded. I could tell he did so reluctantly. Yet I didn't dwell on it for long. I simply got in the car and hoped it would all go away somehow.

-----

"Your coffee still sucks." Ryan commented.

I snickered as Dakota slapped the back of his head. He grinned at her and she rolled her eyes pretending to be irritated. But we all knew she wasn't actually upset with him.

"You're an ass. Do you know how difficult it is to make anything taste good during the apocalypse?" She asked.

The three of us were sat in one of the gated entryways to the prison. Someone had to keep watch since Rick, Daryl and Hershel went to meet with the Governor. We didn't know if he was planning on striking us while they talk.

"What's your excuse for the coffee you made before?" I asked.

Ryan let out a laugh as Dakota turned to me with the same offended face she pulled at him a few seconds ago. I nudged her a bit and she shook her head in disapproval.

"You're both children."

I smiled at her comment before bringing the coffee mug to my lips. It wasn't good without sugar but it did its job. The warmth of it made me almost forget about the looming war and all my other sorrows.

Dakota looked at me before sharing a look with Ryan. The two of them turned to me from their position on the floor. That wasn't a very good sign for me. That's how you knew they were going to talk about deep shit.

"Are we ever gonna talk about how you voluntarily stayed behind at the prison?" Ryan asked.

"I have several injuries. I couldn't go even if I wanted to." I replied.

He gave me a stern look. Just because I was good at lying didn't mean he couldn't see through my bullshit. We both knew injuries never stopped me from doing anything.

"Really? It has nothing to do with Daryl and how you two can't look each other in the eye?" Dakota wondered.

I glared at her and she only shrugged in response. Ryan raised his eyebrows awaiting an answer. I huffed before leaning against the wall.

"We had a fling, and then we didn't. That's all." I stated.

"Why'd you stop? I mean, you seemed happier. I may not have known why but I could still tell something was different." Ryan said.

I glanced at my siblings and I knew that I couldn't tell them the truth. If I told them that I did it for them, then they'd never stop trying to fix it. Or worse, they'd blame themselves for my unhappiness.

"I really don't know what you want me to say. I just realized that we wouldn't work out in the long run and decided end it before it got any more painful." I lied.

I shrugged moving my gaze to my hands in my lap. The coffee mug was still there, although somewhat forgotten.

It couldn't heal what was broken inside. These conversations couldn't do it either.

"You know it's okay to want something more out of this life, right? It shouldn't just be about survival." Dakota said.

I nodded as Ryan sighed and picked up his coffee mug. My eyes narrowed at the faraway look in his eyes. A part of me always worried about his mental state. He was better now, that much I knew.

But I wonder how many broken thoughts remained in his head. Even after all this time. Having Dakota back helped. It reminded us that we still have our family and that that's worth living for.

-----

"We're going to war."