ʳᵘᶰ˒ ᵇᵒʸ˒ ʳᵘᶰ

        “Unless I find a reason to stay.”

       ‘   what reasons are you lookin’ for ??

he... honestly can’t believe he’s mulling over the option of bringing her in. so many souls he’s turned away just to protect the few people left in his twisted sort of family,  but that’s the thing, isn’t it ?? 

the walking dead meme: (2/8) relationships

            ’ is that a bet, mr. grimes? ’

        ‘   absolutely. 

    swath of string cast away, he straightens up, a deep     pang in his knees giving hint of his age and STRAIN. 

She slowly stood up to gaze out the dusty window, eyes squinting as they tried to distinguish whether there were that many or their minds made a pact with exhaustion.

        ‘   i’m not leavin’ you.

he’s quick to cut that idea down, leveling her with a sharp look before his attention darts up to the mess of crumbling and shuffling decay. 

        ‘   we stick together. only way we get out. understood ??

       she would be prepared for it.

the walking dead meme | [3/7] characters → Rick Grimes

                                      ”Whatever you’re planning…” 

his gaze cuts to the side, gun nearly kissing his cheek from the position he holds it. 

for a moment, their eyes meet, but hers widen with surprise as his look away. she shuffles, uncertain in her long limbs and pale skin. could she even be useful? 

      ‘   thank you.

he’s sincere, and it bleeds through his fatigue in the form of a lax smile, the wells of his cheeks arcing. 

accordion spine billows as he rolls from the cot, the rusted bars creaking from his shifted weight. his belt carrying his piece is the last thing he snags before he steps around her, forehead dipping towards the exit. 

gun metal is still a warm weight in his palm, and his thumb lingers at the hammer. precaution, it’s been ingrained in him. he’s lost so much because of careless IGNORANCE. 

        He’s already calculating how far he’d need to lean to catch Rick if he did fall and hope the railing didn’t give way with their combined weight. He didn’t trust the structures and certainly not with both of them.

        Pulling himself up onto the window sill, there’s glass digging into his thighs but not enough to cause injury. He can see Rick along the edge, balancing on stone that’s too thin and dust drifting to the ground every time he takes a step. There’s already a bolt in his bow, and he knows the Walker’s will find the stairs and spill over each other climbing their way up.

        “Plenty. Just don’ leave me hangin’.” He doesn’t want Rick to worry, wants his focus on making sure he gets on that roof and not on Daryl down below stuck on a window sill with no where to go. He raises the bow, keeping the trip trained on the top of the stairs and he can see the Walkers, at the bottom, shuffling and tripping and crawling over each other to get up and there’s a note of desperation in his voice when he reached back.

        “Here.” The red rag was tugged from his back pocket, balled up and ready to be tossed when Rick is ready to catch it. “It’ll give you better grip.”

best to get it over with. 

he sucks in a shaky breath, trying and failing to steel his nerves before twisting his body, stomach and chest flush with the window panels. one jump, it’s the only chance he has. rick has long since stopped praying, but he sings one up, soft and desperate and PLEADING that whatever is watching, to help him. this one time. 

he bends at his knees, tired muscles straining, and forces the last bit of strength he has down into his calves. need to do this, for carol, for judith, for daryl... he jumps, hands outstretched above his head. fingers curve over the lip of the tin, the edges worn from time and lack of care, but the rag helps him catch a steady grip. rick bites down hard on the blade, gums burning as he begins to haul his body up. chest flopping on the roof, he swing his leg to the side, the edge of his boot catching and bringing him the rest of the way up.

he doesn’t waste any more time. spitting out the machete, he lays down and flings an arm down for daryl. 

      She thought Rick wouldn’t lie to her, but she could tell he was lying. Either that or he did genuinely believe it wasn’t anything important. She’d find out eventually and be able to judge for herself. Regardless, she did trust his judgement more than most, so she left all of her worries unspoken. 

he hums, the sound thoughtful and dipping past his lips before he gives a brisk nod. the bandages pull at his raw skin, and oddly enough, he wants to rip them off. it’s a luxury, and one he hasn’t earned. not yet.

      “ no, not yet. ” 

                 she’s knows he’s lying; how does she call him out?                  how does she ask, without stepping out of bounds? 

deep blues roll to the side, catching her face before they disappear behind his palm when he scrubs his hand over his face.