The sound of Carl's laugh made the corners of my lips turn up. It didn't last long. Never did these days.

I stretched my legs and leaned against the stairs that I've been sitting on. Despite a quick reunion, I barely said a few words before going outside with the excuse of holding watch.

A genius wasn't required to figure out that Michonne used the chance to inform them of my brother. Perhaps to make them more understanding.

I didn't need their pity. The thought of it made me want to scream. Seeing it in their eyes would only solidify the truth. That he was gone.

I don't think I can live with that.

The doors of the porch creaked as someone pushed them open. My eyes didn't leave the space in front me as Carl sat down next to me. At first, he didn't say anything.

We sat there in silence. My eyes closed as the muscles in my body relaxed just a tiny bit. If I tried hard enough, I could almost picture Abby sitting next to me instead.

That illusion broke as quickly as I had conjured it. Flashes of Ryan's face went through my head and I couldn't keep my eyes closed any longer.

Peace was fleeting. Especially these days.

"Michonne said to give you this," Carl handed me a bowl, "threatened to hold an intervention if you refused."

The bowl contained some, probably expired, cereal. I took it in my hand and nodded in acknowledgement. He seemed disappointed by my lack of response.

Looking at him or speaking with him only reminded me that Abby wasn't here. I don't even know if she's alive. It's not Carl's fault. But that doesn't change the fact that I'd trade his life for hers in an instant.

"How's your dad?" I spoke up.

Not gonna lie, he looked half dead. I wasn't in great shape but I wasn't nearly as bad as him. It's a miracle he's even alive after what he's been through.

Carl shrugged. "Slowly recovering."

"That's good." I replied.

Knowing they were alive brought relief, as well as mixed feelings. I wanted to be happy because of their wellbeing. Yet an intrusive thought kept gnawing at me.

"He wants to talk to you." Carl said.

I hesitated before eating some of the cereal. It bought me time to think of a reply. Talking to Rick was the last thing I wanted. Despite thinking he was dead for the last few days.

"Did he tell you that?"

"He didn't have to."

I nodded. A few days can feel like an eternity. These last ones sure felt like it. Seeing Rick was enough for me. I'm afraid of what I'll do if I speak with him. No matter how inevitable it is.

Carl didn't say anything else but stayed with me until I finished the cereal. His presence was welcome, even if it was painful.

We both went inside at the same time. Rick's eyes followed my every move as I ignored them and went upstairs. I didn't have the strength to deal with talking.

I entered one of the rooms and laid on the bed inside it. My eyes closed as I tried to fall asleep. I twisted and turned trying to convince my body that it was okay to take a breather.

After a while, it did work. Mostly due to exhaustion. Even then, it was hell to endure it. A restless sleep carrying the weight of grief within me. It offered absolutely no peace.

Nightmares of Ryan's undead torment startled me awake. I gasped for air as my body pulled itself into a sitting position. As sweat dripped down my head, I noticed another figure in the room.

Rick was laying awkwardly in a chair near the bed. His chest softly went up and down as his own body fought to heal itself. A sigh left my lips as I forced my body out of bed. Something told me I wasn't going to get any more sleep.

Another room was free, a boy's bedroom. Carl probably liked this one the most. I was startled by the sound of voices downstairs. What was worse was the fact that I didn't recognize them.

I went to warn Rick but footsteps could be heard heading upstairs. There wasn't enough time. My eyes searched the room for a place to hide.

The closet will have to do. It was small and without any room for comfort but I fit in there. As I gently closed the door, a man walked in. I couldn't see him but I could hear his movements.

My breath hitched as he stepped closer to the closet. More voices could be heard downstairs. I could fight off one of them, eventually two, on a good day.

However, my wound was still fresh. They'd easily overpower me.

The man decided not to check the closet and I sighed in relief at his stupidity. Probably didn't think anyone could fit in there. Considering the angle at which I'm positioned in, I'd agree.

The relief turned to fear again as he headed for the room that Rick was in. I opened the closet door and got out as quietly as I could manage. As he rummaged through the room, I noticed the lack of noise.

He must not have found Rick. I stood behind the door of the room and tried to sneak a peek at the other room. A glimpse of the man deciding to lay on the bed was all I could get before having to move.

Another man showed up and I hid behind the door. He took a glance at the room before heading for the other one. As he and the other man argued, I took out my throwing knives. I placed one in each sleeve of my shirt.

A man named Len was choking his comrade, mumbling something about claiming. It worked out well for me. One less problem for us to tackle. I still couldn't see Rick in the room.

The kid's bed was partially concealed by two walls. I tried to open the windows in that part of the room I was in but they couldn't be opened. A sigh left my lips. Snoring alerted me that Len was asleep.

I was about to try and get closer when I finally found Rick. He was quietly crawling out from under the bed. That clever son of a bitch. As he got on his feet, he looked directly at me. Must've seen me looking for him.

At the sound of incoming footsteps, I motioned for him to move to the room I was in. He didn't waste time and immediately made his way over. In a nick of time, as well. If he had been a second late, he would've been spotted.

We ran behind the two walls by the kid's room. He was on one side and I was on the other as a man entered the room. The ball in his hand could be heard bouncing. He threw it against the wall in front of us.

His hand was right in front of us. If he moves a step further into the room, we're screwed. I prepared my knife but Rick shook his head. It was only then that I noticed how terrified Rick truly was.

Usually when facing enemies, he was confident in his, our, abilities to take them down. In his current condition, most of that was gone. All that was left was a scared man who lost everything.

When the man withdrew from the room, the relief we both felt was immense. He immediately went to check the windows as I rolled my eyes. Been there, tried that.

I touched his shoulder and his head abruptly turned to me. The motion startled me. So did the feel of his skin under the fabric of the shirt. I couldn't get distracted in a time like this.

The voices could be heard talking about Michonne's shirt and I grabbed a trophy before handing it to Rick as a weapon. The distaste on his face said enough. I lead him into the hallway to try and find a way out.

However, he wandered to the room we were in previously to get the gun that was on the bed. In that exact moment, someone was coming up the stairs. Rick and I shared a look for a split second before heading into different directions.

I entered a random room that looked like an office. The door closed right before I saw a flash of hair passing by. There was no time to waste. Rick is going to have to take care of himself. The window here was big enough to get out from.

Well, big is an overstatement. I had to bend my body in ways I'm not proud of but I got out and onto the roof. The tree branch standing nearby was very tempting. It would definitely make less noise than jumping down.

Weighing my options, I opted for the tree. Its bark felt rough under my fingers and I regretted not indulging my climbing tendencies more often. Perhaps this ordeal would've been easier if I had.

The branch bent under my weight and I climbed to the center as fast as I could. Making sure no window was facing towards the tree, I made my way down. As soon as my feet touched the ground, I squatted down and went to the wall of the house.

A very quiet whisper caught my ears and I turned my body only to see Rick motioning for me to go his way. Right as I did, shots went off within the house.

"Go! Go!" he whispered.

We ran away from the house using the distraction. It didn't take us long to put distance between us and them. Thankfully, Michonne told him in what direction she and Carl were going so we could meet them there.

Them returning to that house was not a pleasant option. At first, there were no words exchanged between us. Just the sound of heavy breathing. Then he had to break the silence and ruin everything.

"Are you okay?"

I paused in the middle of the street. The adrenaline still running through my veins. And all at once, all the rage and grief and pain surged at once. It sharpened into one thought and one thought only.

"How dare you," I turned to look at him in disbelief, "how dare you ask me that? After everything?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I have been holding back all day. Ever since I saw him and his kid all happy and alive. It just reminded me how I've lost everything. He didn't.

"My brother is fucking dead. He's dead and it's your fault." I snapped.

His featured softened as he reached out for me. My words cut deep. I knew that. I didn't care. I wanted him to hurt like me. He flinched when I stepped away from his touch.

"Jo-"

"Don't call me that. You don't get to call me that."

He grimaced at the distaste in my voice but nodded anyways. It was like he knew this was coming. Maybe I was that predictable. Or maybe he just understood the need to scream at something.

"When everyone hated you, I was the only one. The only one who believed in you. I-I actually believed you could keep me and my family safe!"

Ever since the farm, an unspoken truth had settled in my mind. That Rick would keep us safe. I was so sure of it. The thought of anything going wrong just didn't fit.

Because how could he allow such a thing?

"I trusted you to protect them," I sobbed, "but you didn't."

As my tears came down, so did his. His face gave everything away. He didn't even try to hide it. He blamed himself, too. For all of it. No matter how much I hated him in that moment, I knew that if he could take on all my pain, he would.

"I'm sorry." he whispered.

My lower lip wobbled. "You should be."

His eyes met mine. God, I wanted to hate him. And blame him. Blaming myself didn't do the trick. As much as I wished to destroy myself, nothing I ever did could hurt as much as losing Ryan could.

I could destroy Rick. He'd let me. If I wanted to, I could.

"You can hate me. If that's what you need, I'll give that to you." Rick said.

He stepped closer to me and this time I didn't step back. My face twisted in pain as I tried to fight off another wave of agony.

The more he let me hate him, the less I wanted to. I wanted him to fight me. To scream at me that it was my fault and not his. He never did.

He just looked at me with those compassionate blue eyes.

"I just need for this pain to be gone. I can't live like this, Rick. I can't miss him anymore. It's killing me."

My words died out and were replaced by inconsolable cries. He hesitated as his hand wanted to reach out to me again. I didn't give him a chance to, though.

I launched myself into his arms. My body crashed into his and he steadied both of us. It scared me how much his embrace affected me. After days of wandering, the feeling of him holding me was like coming home.

His hand moved to the back of my neck as I leaned my head on his shoulder. He didn't say anything, only held me. His grip wasn't too tight. I could've pulled away if I wanted to.

But leaving his arms was the last thought in my head.