CHAPTER TWELVE
xii. A NEW FAMILY

RUTH

WEBS OF CRACKS broke into the wall. Ruth examined them, asking herself what their story was, and how they came to be. Was it from the fist of a vexed inmate, or the withering of the cell she found herself in? Evidence of either cause lay in the cracks, their lines trailing down to the dusty floor.

Ruth ran the rag over the wall once more, attempting to rid the rocky surface of the crimson in its pores. The rubbing sound hurt her ears in the deafening silence. It dug into her skull and left her with the faintest idea of how the blood got there in the first place. Seeing as there was only a few prisoners left, there must have been some mass riot from what she could tell. The silence was somewhat relaxing, but Ruth still kept her ears to the ground to make sure nothing was wrong. She had left Maggie alone after Glenn went with Carol, and after trying to comfort the anguished woman to no avail. 

The sun glared onto the walls, burning into the concrete and Ruth's eyes in a simultaneous manner. The sun shouldn't have shined as bright as it did, but with the peak of spring, it managed to overcome the sleep it submerged into from the winter. The light brightened her eyes, but the emotions inside them were still dark. She embraced the heat that absorbed into her skin. She used to love the winter, but it became a more brutal hellscape than the summer. With the chance of frostbite lurking around every corner, she only wished for the freeze to end. 

The rag in her hands dropped to the ground when Beth's shouts filled the silent air. "Do something!" Beth demanded to someone downstairs. "Somebody help! Somebody! Please help!"

Ruth ran out of her cell and down the stairs, her boots loudly clanking on the metal steps. Lori beat her to Hershel's cell, but they both dashed inside. Lori quickly placed her hands over Hershel's chest and pushed down repeatedly to get his heart to start beating again. Ruth could only watch with the crying sisters, her hand tense over the knife in her pocket. She didn't want the man to die, but she had to be ready in case he came back in a more horrifying way.

"Come on." Ruth heard Lori mutter. The woman placed her lips to Hershel's, breathing into his mouth.

Suddenly, Hershel's hands wrapped around Lori's head, and Ruth jumped forward to pull Lori back. Ruth yanked on Lori's arm and pushed her behind her. She tried to ignore the screams of Maggie and Beth, and focused on the man in the bed in front of her. She raised her knife shakily, praying she wouldn't have to use it. She couldn't breathe, for the sight froze her in place. Her heart beat in her ears and an ache lit up her temples. She blinked hard, hoping to wash away the feeling, but it seemed to intensify the longer she stared.

Ruth didn't want to kill this man. She couldn't. He was the sole reason her leg only occasionally ached, and he was the father of the girl she had gotten so close to. Unfortunately, she knew she would have to be the one to end his life if it came to it. She stared intensely at the man's face, praying to see that his eyes were not the hazy shade of a walker. They finally opened, and Ruth saw the irises of an alive and well Hershel Greene. The tension ceased with a deep sigh of relief from the girl's lips.

Ruth snapped her head at the click of a gun. Carl had his pistol raised towards the man, and his eyes reflected the fear of the four women in the room. He looked directly at Ruth, his eyes questioning her movements. Ruth slowly placed her hand on the barrel and lowered it to the ground.

"It's okay." Ruth said quietly. "We're okay."

Lori slowly stepped out from behind Ruth, one hand squeezing the girl's shoulder as she walked back over to the bed. She quietly lay a finger on the man's neck. "There's a pulse again."

"A fever?" Maggie asked softly, her hands wrapping around Beth. "Check his forehead."

"Nothing. He's fine." Lori replied, a small smile of relief pulling at her lips. "He's alright."

The tugging in Ruth's chest seemed to ease once more. It was intriguing how life tended to give luck to people when they needed it the most. In some ways, it was strange, but in others it was a blessing. Ruth looked around at the room of people. Glenn and Carol had come back from outside, looks of relief adorning their features. Ruth met Glenn's eyes and gave him a short nod, and he returned one back to her.

By the time Rick, T-Dog, and Daryl had returned to the cell block, the entire group had gathered in the small room. Each one gathered around the man who lay asleep in the bed, watching his chest rise and fall in a nearly consistent manner. Her gaze didn't move from Hershel the entire time he slept, making sure he was still breathing. She couldn't sit still, for the energy that ran through her refused to leave even hours later. It reminded her of when she would consume energy drinks like water during college, and she could have tricked herself into thinking that she had just had one.

Ruth slowly stood up from her seat against the wall. She walked over to Hershel and gently placed her fingers against his cold wrist. Just barely feeling the thump of his pulse against her two index fingers, she sighed silently to herself. Her shoulders lowered slightly, but they still held a tension that Ruth thought might be permanent.

"Still a pulse?" She heard Rick ask from behind her. 

She ran her tongue over her lips, her eyes moving over her shoulder. "Yea." Ruth whispered. "He's holding on." 

Hershel's eyes slowly opened, his fingers moving underneath her gentle grip. She let go of his wrist and backed away from the bed. Maggie and Beth moved closer to the mattress, looking expectantly at their father. 

Ruth looked around at the people surrounding the bed. From Carl's smile to T-Dog's relieved stare, she could see the care each person had for one another. The winter united the group in a way that meant more than just surviving together. They were a family now, a new one to replace their old and broken one. The group acted as one, but each member had their own unique qualities that made them essential. T-Dog's strength, Maggie's bravery, and even Beth's innocence, they were all pieces in the puzzle, uniting to create something so beautiful. Ruth felt at home with these people, and even felt some peace with Erin's death. She would have to move on, she thought, just to accept this new world she lived in. This was her new family, and she hoped that they loved her as much as she cared for them.

Ruth moved out of the cell, and a few of the others exited as well. When she got back to her own bed, she crouched down to swipe her bag off of the floor. After doing so, she walked briskly back to the entrance of the cell block. As fast as she could, she ran through the dark halls. The air was humid and held a distinguished smell of mildew. Her footsteps clattered down the hollow halls, each step echoing loudly. She hoped that the walkers couldn't pinpoint the sound, because she didn't want to be hindered from making her exit to the outside.

She knocked the door to the exit wide open, hearing the loud creak of the door follow. It slammed shut behind her, leaving her out in the empty courtyard. Ruth pulled out her knife and glanced around at the new but familiar scenery.  The sun was still shining brightly, nearly blinding her as she stepped further out into the area. Ruth squinted her eyes and raised her hand to shade them. 

Carol was hunched over a dead walker, slowly cutting away at it with a knife. Ruth didn't question the woman's motives and instead headed towards the tower in front of her path. She yanked the door open, hearing the loud creaking of another metal door. Her hands shakily gripped the blade, its delicate but rusty metal shining in the dark light a beam. She walked forward slightly, dragging the knife against the wall. Small sparks from the friction erupted before quickly dissipating. 

The woman climbed the stairs by skipping steps in between. There was an irresistible silence that forced its way in between the sounds of her footsteps. It was a delicate sound, making the noise in Ruth's head seem even louder. Her heart beat louder when the space surrounding her was silent and not one of panic. 

She finally reached the top of the guard tower, the windows hazy and dirty from lack of proper cleaning. Gripping the sleeve of her jacket, Ruth ran the rough fabric over the glass. A layer of grime pulled away from the window, giving the girl a clear view. The balcony was free of any danger, so she once again stepped out into the open. 

Her body slumped against the wall as she sat down, and she dropped her bag to her side. She quickly unzipped the rucksack and pulled out a small photograph. The backside faced her, with a long scribble of words she recognized as her mother's. 

Erin 12, Ruth 8, and Carson 6 mo. at Disney, 1988. 

She almost didn't flip the photograph over, feeling a hesitance to look at the memory once more. Ruth decided to ignore her nerves and slowly looked at the photo. 

A small smile emerged to her lips, but a sudden pain struck her heart as she looked on. Two smiling sisters sat on a bench with those trademark mouse ears resting on their heads. Erin's hair was cut into a bob, which made Ruth's smile grow the longer she stared at it.

"She always hated that bob." Ruth mumbled with a grin. The younger Ruth in the picture held Carson in her arms, a big grin upon her face. The smile was missing a few teeth, but it was still bigger than ever. It pained her to look at such a joyful memory. She missed her siblings more than anything, and Ruth knew that the chances of seeing them again was slim. 

She couldn't really describe how she felt. Her mind was running all over the place and it didn't want to stop. The picture felt like it was there to mock her, to make her feel worse or make her return to her grieving. The smiles of the children now seemed eerie, like Ruth was staring at ghosts. She could feel their pain, or maybe it was her own. Their eyes bore into her face, taunting her and reminding her of what she used to have, and how it was gone and ripped away from her. Ruth continued to stare at the picture, its joy and happiness haunting her. Her dark eyes fixed on the image, but she jumped as someone spoke from behind her.

"Do you miss them?" Rick asked. The photograph dropped from her fingers, hoping to hide the daunting image from the man.

  Ruth closed her eyes and took a deep breath to ease the sensation of her heartache. "So much."

 She heard him sigh, and Rick sat down against the wall beside her like he did the first night. "I... was in a coma when all of this," he said, gesturing to the giant grassy field and the trees, "was going down. I woke up alone. I thought I would never see Carl or Lori again."

"A coma?"

"Shot on the job."

Ruth nodded, her thumb running over the edge of the photo. "I know I'm not going to see them again, Rick. I miss them so much. All I've been doing is praying that they're alive, but what if they aren't? I watched her get shot down, she has to be dead." Ruth sighed, her breath shakily leaving her mouth as she tried to keep from crying. "And Carson, he's too young. I know Carl has made it through all of this, but what if Carson couldn't? He was with my parents and-"

"Ruth, stop." Rick hushed. "You can't just assume, you can only hope that they're still here, breathing and surviving like you."

She nodded, feeling the tears at her eyes, but she forced them down. "Is this what this world is like when you're alone? Does the pain in your chest ever leave?" Ruth questioned, her eyes glancing towards the man beside her. He stared at her, his brows furrowed slightly as if he was trying to read her thoughts. There was nothing there, she thought.

"You just have to give it some time." He started. "We're here too, Ruth. All of us are family, even if not by blood. We can survive this world. All of us."

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she felt the pain subside slightly. "All of us."

**

Well there's a LOT going on in the next couple of chapters so I hope you guys are ready :)

Hopefully this was okay!

See you soon loves xx