Everything had gone to shit. The number of walkers that had managed to break through the walls of Alexandria had been overwhelming, and Rick didn’t even know how they’d managed to kill them all. They had lost people along the way; Jessie, Sam, Ron… Carl had been shot in the eye and was currently recovering. Rick couldn’t help but wonder if it was all worth it – if anything was worth fighting now. Often, those thoughts would pop into his head and he would only need to look at his children to get rid of them, but now… They didn’t even know if Carl was going to make it. He was stable, yes, but they didn’t have proper medical equipment, they probably never would again, and it wasn’t like Denise was a proper doctor.

Rick put his head in his hands, sitting on the steps of the porch outside one of the houses they’d been given upon their initial arrival. He was still covered in blood, too busy trying to look after Carl to shower or get changed. It was hard to tell which blood belonged to the walkers and which blood belonged to their group. It was dusk, the sun just beginning to rise and the entire area was littered with bodies like a war-zone. Somehow, strangely, Rick felt more at home than he ever did inside the house. Inside, he was on edge, like it wasn’t natural to be in such a place anymore. Outside, though, surrounded by walkers, heads and limbs cut off, blood splattered everywhere… it was right; it was what he was used to.

He didn’t think anybody was around until he heard footsteps and looked up to see Daryl. “Hey,” Rick muttered, resting his elbows on the tops of his legs. “How are ya holdin’ up?” Rick kept his eyes on his friend, searching for a response.