〰

Elodie slumped at the round, chilly table in the cell block, her bowl of cornflakes now a sad, soggy mess. She poked at the mushy flakes with her spoon, her appetite dwindling with each passing moment. The only sound was the faint clatter of her spoon against the bowl, punctuated by the occasional shuffle or murmur from the others nearby.

Though Elodie heard none of it. Before Daryl had gone outside with the others, he'd told her to switch her hearing aids off. They really had to get her some new batteries soon.

The cell block was unusually quiet, almost deserted. Hershel, Lori, Carl, Beth, and Elodie were the only ones left inside. The rest had ventured outside to clear the yard and handle various chores. Elodie had wanted to pitch in, if only to shake off the creeping sense of boredom.

It felt strange even thinking about it—boredom was a luxury she hadn't known in months, maybe even a year. It was always about staying alert or staying busy nowadays.

Now, she was stuck inside because the others deemed it an "adult job" to help out outside, and everyone else was absorbed in their own tasks. Lori was with Hershel, Beth by her side, and Carl was roaming around, checking in on everyone.

Lori walked in, her gaze softening when she saw Elodie. She approached the girl, her eyes filled with concern, and, knowing Elodie couldn't hear her, gently flicked one of Elodie's curls over her shoulder to get her attention. She looked up in surprise, meeting Lori's gaze. She quickly switched her hearing aids back on before responding.

"Hi," she greeted with a small smile.

"Hey, honey," Lori's voice was warm and comforting. She nodded at Elodie's half-finished bowl, and sternly said, "Finish your breakfast."

Elodie wrinkled her nose in distaste. "It's soggy," she said, pushing the spoon through the milk-soaked flakes.

Lori tilted her head slightly, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Well, it's better than nothin', isn't it?"

Elodie gave a half-hearted shrug. Lori was right; soggy cornflakes were still food, and in their current situation, they had to make do with whatever they could get. She took another spoonful, the soggy flakes sliding off her spoon and into her mouth.

Lori sat down beside her, offering a bit of company. Elodie might not have realized it, but she looked incredibly lonely sitting there on her own, head down, lazily stirring through her cornflakes.

"We should really cut your hair soon," Lori said, gently brushing Elodie's hair away from her face.

Elodie tilted her head, puzzled. "Why?"

"Less chance of walkers or people grabbin' it. It's safer."

Nodding slowly, Elodie considered it. She could see the sense in it, even if she wasn't thrilled about the idea of a haircut. She'd always preferred it long, even though her mother had always kept it short for some reason. She'd always envied the other girls with their flowing locks.

"I'll do it if you want," Lori said, her tone light. "It won't be so bad. I cut Carl's hair, and he always comes out lookin' pretty decent."

The small frown Elodie had on her face before now eased into a tentative smile. With a nod, she agreed. "Okay."

Lori's face brightened with a smile. "Good. We'll do it soon, then."

She patted Elodie's shoulder reassuringly and then, noticing the girl's distracted gaze, decided to try and lift her spirits. "You know, you look a bit bored sittin' here all alone. How about doin' somethin' fun with Carl or Beth? They're 'round here somewhere."

Elodie shrugged, managing a small smile. "Yeah."

"Perfect." Lori leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Elodie's head. "Finish your breakfast first."

Elodie nodded, watching as Lori walked away. As soon as Lori was out of sight, Elodie quickly got up, carrying her bowl of soggy cornflakes over to the washing sink by the table. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, she poured the mushy cereal down the sink and rinsed the bowl. Her stomach was just as empty, but she wasn't about to spend any more time with that sad, mushy mess.

Feeling a bit lighter, she set the bowl aside and made her way out of the cell block, searching for Carl. She found him near the entrance of Hershel's cell, watching Beth sit by his side, Carl's gaze fixed on her.

Elodie approached quietly and tapped his arm gently. Carl flinched, his head snapping towards her with a look of surprise.

"Hi," Elodie said, her eyes wide with curiosity. "What're ya doin'?"

Carl's face flushed slightly, and he stammered, "Uh, nothing. Just—uh, making sure Beth and Hershel are okay."

She tilted her head, not quite understanding the sudden awkwardness. "Oh, okay."

He shrugged, trying to hide his embarrassment. "What's up?"

"Why are ya bein' strange?"

"I'm not. What's up?"

"Your momma said I should come find ya," Elodie said, frowning in confusion. "Said ya might wanna hang out."

Beth, who had been quietly observing, chimed in with a smile. "I have a deck of cards in my cell. We could play a game if you'd like."

"I don't know how to play cards."

She smiled reassuringly at Elodie. "That's okay. I've got a game that's pretty simple to pick up. It's called Slapjack. I'll explain it all to ya."

Elodie hesitated for a moment but then nodded, her curiosity getting the better of her. "'Kay."

Right after she closed her mouth, Lori came walking up to them to release them. They couldn't leave Hershel alone, of course, so when Lori showed up, the three of them headed to Beth's cell.

Elodie lingered by her door, watching as Beth rummaged through her bag. With a triumphant grin, Beth pulled out a slightly battered box of cards. Elodie recognized it instantly; Jamie used to have a jumble of cards scattered around his room to play with his friends. Whenever she tried to join in his games though, she was always shooed away with a hearty laugh.

"Come on, sit down," Beth said, patting the floor. She then lowered herself onto her knees, already opening the box.

Elodie nodded and sat down on her knees, planting her hands on her knees. Carl followed suit, sitting cross-legged beside her. The floor was a bit dusty, but Elodie barely noticed. She'd seen much worse, anyway.

"Alright," Beth began, "here's how it works. We're goin' to take turns flippin' over the top card from our pile and placin' it in the center. If someone puts down a Jack, ya have to slap the pile as fast as ya can. The first person to slap the pile gets to keep all the cards in the center."

Elodie nodded, trying to follow along. Beth continued, "If ya slap the pile when it's not a Jack, ya gotta give one card from your pile to the person who put down the Jack. The goal is to collect as many cards as possible."

"What's a Jack?" Elodie asked, drumming her fingers on her knees.

Beth smiled, reaching into the deck and pulling out a card. "This is a Jack," she said, holding it up.

Elodie squinted at the card, trying to remember its features. "Okay, I got it."

"Awesome," Beth said, shuffling the deck and dealing out the cards evenly. "So, we'll each take turns flippin' the top card from our pile into the center."

Elodie took the deck of cards that Beth handed her and tried to hold them in her hands, but they slipped and fumbled a bit before she managed to get a proper grip. She tried to arrange them into a neat deck, but it was a bit tricky.

"No peekin'," Beth reminded her with a reassuring smile. "Just keep 'em face down and flip 'em one at a time."

Elodie nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment as she focused on the task. She shuffled her cards a bit and held them steady, trying not to peek.

Carl began the game, flipping the top card from his pile into the center. The card landed face up, revealing a queen of hearts. Elodie watched intently, trying to remember the rules. Beth flipped her card next, which turned out to be a ten of spades. When Elodie's turn came, she revealed a four of clubs.

The game continued with Carl flipping another card, but it was not a Jack. Beth flipped another non-Jack card, and Elodie did the same. As the game progressed, Carl's next card was revealed to be a Jack. Carl slapped his hand on the pile—followed by everyone else's— claiming the cards in the center.

Elodie was still processing the Jack and didn't react fast enough to slap the pile. This happened several times, with Carl or Beth reacting faster and grabbing the pile before she could.

Noticing Elodie's frustration, Beth decided to help. As Carl flipped over another card, it turned out to be a Jack. Instead of diving for the pile, Beth paused and glanced at Elodie, giving her a chance.

Elodie's eyes widened as she spotted the Jack. This time, she was ready. Her hand flew out and slapped the pile just before Beth's could reach it.

"Got it!" Elodie exclaimed, her face lighting up with a triumphant grin.

"Hey!" Carl protested. "Beth, you let her win!"

Beth shrugged innocently. "Don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Yeah, right," Carl scoffed, stealing a card from Elodie's pile.

She immediately swatted his hand, reaching over to snatch it back. "Carl, stop! Give it back."

Carl chuckled as he dangled the card just out of Elodie's reach. "You gotta earn it back," he teased, his grin wide as he kept the card just out of her grasp.

Determined, she lunged forward, her fingers managing to brush against the card. But before she could snatch it, Carl pulled it back, laughing as she nearly toppled over.

"Carl!" she whined, trying to hide her smile. "Give it back, or I'll tell Lori!"

Pretending to consider it, he raised an eyebrow. "Fine," he finally relented, tossing the card back into her pile, only for it to fall on the floor. "But only 'cause you're a sore loser."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Am not." Elodie rolled her eyes, snatching the card from the floor and adding it back to her pile with a satisfied huff. 

"Are too," Carl teased.

"You're just mad 'cause I'm catchin' up," she shot back, leaning backwards to push his leg away with her foot.

Carl scoffed, pretending to be unfazed. "You wish. I'm still way ahead."

Beth, who had been watching the back-and-forth with an amused smile, decided to interject. "Alright, let's keep playin'. I wanna see who's gonna win."

"Me," Carl immediately said.

They were absorbed in the game when a muffled sound from the corridor outside caught their attention. The scraping of footsteps against concrete and faint murmurs filtered through the thin walls. Laughter and card flipping came to an abrupt halt as all three turned their heads toward the door—Elodie a little later than the other two considering she hadn't even heard it in the first place.

Carl squinted in the direction of the noise. "Is that Hershel?"

The three of them scrambled to their feet, abandoning the card game. The cards scattered across the floor, momentarily forgotten. Hershel, leaning heavily on a crutch and supported by Lori, slowly made his way out of the cell.

"Daddy, don't push yourself," Beth cautioned, reaching out to steady him.

He chuckled, readjusting the crutches under his arms. "What else am I goin' to do? I can't stand lookin' up at that bottom of that bunk anymore."

As he spoke, he wobbled dangerously. Lori and Beth quickly grabbed him to keep him steady, but Hershel seemed undeterred. He tapped his crutches on the ground, testing his balance, and then started moving forward slowly.

Elodie nudged Carl aside, clearing the path. She watched nervously as Hershel made his way toward the door leading outside, stopping midway through the cellblock.

"You know, I think I'm pretty steady," he told Lori. He walked a few steps ahead again.

"That's a good start," Lori complimented. "Want to take a rest?"

"Rest?" Hershel chuckled, looking at Lori as if she'd lost her mind. "Let's go for a little stroll."

〰

In no time at all, and with a few wobbles for good measure, the four of them had managed to get Hershel outside without a single tumble. They strolled across the courtyard, Elodie taking the lead in clearing away any debris, making sure no stray bits of trash or fallen twigs posed a threat to Hershel's footing.

Carl, keeping pace beside him, squinted up at Hershel as the sun blazed overhead. "Ready to race, Hershel?"

Hershel, arching an amused eyebrow, met the boy's challenge with a grin. "Give me another day. I'll take you on."

Grinning, Carl looked over at Elodie, who was kicking twigs and empty cans out the way. While he felt the extra precautions were a bit over the top—after all, Hershel had his eyes and could see where he was going—he still thought it was nice of her to do.

The group came to a halt as they spotted Rick, Glenn, and Daryl heading back inside, securing the fence behind them. Rick's eyes lit up with admiration as he took in Hershel's progress, a broad smile spreading across his face.

Daryl's gaze was fixed on Elodie, scrutinizing her from a distance to ensure she was safe. She caught his eye, grinned, and flashed him two thumbs up. Daryl shook his head with a soft scoff, the corner of his mouth twitching in a reluctant smile.

She was familiar with this routine—Daryl checking up on her from afar had become a bit of a pattern the recent couple of months. At first, she was confused as to what he had been doing.

His response would always be, "Makin' sure ya ain't dead."

It puzzled her at first, especially since her mother had never been one for such direct, albeit protective, expressions. Her mother's version would have been more along the lines of, "Ya better not have gotten yourself killed, Elodie Price," implying a consequence if she did.

With Daryl, there was no implication of consequence if she got hurt—just an earnest desire to keep her safe.

And there had been injuries. Walkers had a nasty habit of appearing in unexpected places, knocking her down, leaving her with split lips and bruised shoulders.

Daryl's first reaction was always a flare of anger, questioning, "Why the hell'd ya go there alone, huh?" But when he saw the tears welling in her eyes, he'd soften. With a sigh, he'd brush some of her hair from her face and calmly remind her to be more careful and not wander off alone.

Then, a sharp tug at her arm—Carl yanking her behind him as he shouted, "Walkers! Look out!"

Elodie quickly whipped around, her heart racing as she heard Carl's warning. The once secure gate now stood ajar, allowing walkers to flood through, their groans growing louder as they staggered closer. The metal clanged as the gates were thrown open by the sheer force of the undead mass pushing through.

Carl and Lori immediately drew their guns, taking aim at the oncoming horde. Maggie, T-Dog, and Carol, alerted by the commotion, came sprinting over from the cars, weapons at the ready.

Elodie's hands trembled, gripping her small knife in its holster as tightly as she could, but the sight of the walkers shambling closer froze her in place. She didn't know where to move, what to do. The overwhelming noise and chaos around her made her want to curl up and shut it all out.

The sounds of everyone yelling, the gunfire, the snarling of the walkers—it all became a confusing blur. Her hearing aids struggled to pick up the proper sounds, amplifying everything at once and leaving her disoriented and panicked.

She got yanked out of whatever state she was in when Beth's hand clamped around hers. Without a word, she pulled Elodie along, practically dragging her toward the concrete stairs leading up to the door to another cellblock.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, Hershel just behind them. Beth pulled Elodie up the steps, taking them two at a time, with walkers closing in from all sides. Hershel followed as quickly as his crutches would allow.

At the top, Beth spun around, her eyes wide with fear as she spotted a walker dangerously close to her father. "Daddy, behind you!" she screamed, her voice cracking with terror.

Hershel, breathing heavily, turned just in time to see the walker almost at his heels. Without a second thought, he swung one of his crutches with all the strength he could muster. The crutch connected with a sickening crunch, caving in the walker's skull and sending it tumbling down the stairs, its head bursting against the concrete wall below.

Panting, he climbed the remaining steps and pulled himself through the gate, slamming it shut behind him. He quickly latched it, his hand trembling as he secured the lock. He turned to Beth and Elodie, who were both pressed against the wall, eyes wide.

They watched as Maggie guided Carl and Lori to their own cell block, closing the gates behind them before disappearing into the darkness. Carol and T-Dog were making their way to the breached gate, likely trying to close it against the walkers.

And Elodie?

Elodie's vision blurred, the world spinning and tightening around her like a noose. Her breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps, each one feeling as if it might be her last. How had things escalated so quickly? Just hours ago, she had been bored, safe within the walls of the prison. She almost felt ashamed she had let herself feel bored when this was her current situation.

She froze, her eyes locked on the sight of T-Dog as he and Carol worked to close the gate. Her entire world seemed to collapse when a walker lunged at T-Dog, its rotting jaws clamping down on his shoulder.

T-Dog's cry of pain pierced through the noise, a raw, agonized sound that cut through her already frayed nerves. The walker's teeth sank in, and T-Dog managed to fire his weapon, blowing the creature's head apart. The body fell, but the damage was done. Carol and T-Dog stumbled, disappearing behind the door.

Panic seized Elodie's chest like a vice. Her legs felt like lead, and she could hardly process what was happening. The world was spinning, the shouting, the groans of walkers, the clanging metal—it all melded into a nightmarish blur.

T-Dog's bitten. T-Dog's bitten. He's gonna die. T-Dog's dead.

She clutched the fence, her fingers curling around the wire in a futile attempt to ground herself. Her breathing was erratic, each gasp a struggle as though she were trying to draw air through a narrow straw.

We're all gonna die. T-Dog's dead. He's dead, he's dead, he's dead.

Daryl burst into the courtyard, his eyes darting around before landing on Elodie. He moved quickly, his expression tight with concern. Shouting, he swung his crossbow around, dispatching walkers with swift precision. But his gaze never left Elodie. 

Beth had pulled her into her chest, her arms wrapping around the girl in a desperate attempt to offer comfort. "It's okay, Elodie. It's okay." Beth's voice was muffled but filled with urgency as she rubbed Elodie's shoulder.

Elodie didn't hear her. The only sounds she could grasp were her own panicked breathing and the relentless pounding of her heart. Her thoughts looped endlessly, a mantra of "he's dead."

He's dead, he's dead, he's dead.

As soon as Daryl reached the fence, he reached his rough hands over the gaps to cover Elodie's small, trembling fingers gripping the wire. But she wasn't responding, her eyes staring through him as if he wasn't even there.

"Elodie," he said, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. Yet again, she gave no response.

Daryl clenched his jaw, frustration and worry gnawing at him. He needed to stay with her, to help her calm down, but the situation outside was still getting worse. Walkers were pressing in, and he could hear Rick and Glenn calling out to him.

"Lo, listen to me," Daryl tried again, his tone firm as he pressed harder against her hand, hoping the contact would pull her back. "Ya gotta breathe."

But she didn't react, her breaths only growing more frantic, more shallow. The world around her was a blur of noise and fear, and no matter how much Daryl tried to reach her, she was slipping further into her panic. She wanted to respond but couldn't. Her mouth opened, but no words formed, her breaths escaping in frantic gasps. Her body seemed to betray her.

"Hey—what the hell's happenin' to her?" he yelled at Hershel.

Before the man could give a response, Rick yelled, "Daryl! We need you!"

Daryl cursed under his breath, torn between his need to stay with Elodie and his duty to help secure the prison. He looked up at Hershel and Beth, who was still holding Elodie tightly, trying her best to soothe her. "Stay with her," Daryl ordered them, his voice tight. "Don't let go."

Hershel nodded firmly, his hand resting on Beth's shoulder as she continued to comfort Elodie, wiping away her tears.

"Bethy, get down on her level," Hershel instructed gently, nodding toward Elodie. "Kneel by her. Talk her through it."

Beth followed his lead, lowering herself to Elodie's level, her face now close to the girl's. "Elodie, honey, ya need to breathe with me, okay?" she said softly. "In and out, nice and slow."

Elodie's eyes were still wide, her breath coming in rapid, uneven gasps, but Beth wasn't giving up. She placed her hands on Elodie's shoulders, gently squeezing to help ground her.

"Just focus on me, Elodie. Watch me breathe. We're gonna do it together, okay?" Beth inhaled deeply, making a point of exaggerating the movement, then exhaled slowly. "In... and out... just like that."

Elodie attempted to mimic the deep breath Beth was taking, but her first attempt was erratic and hitching. Her breath caught in her throat, a sharp, panicked gasp that felt like it would choke her. She panicked, scared of the feeling. Was this what dying felt like?

"It's okay," Beth reassured, her voice steady despite her own tears rolling down her cheeks. "Just keep tryin'. In through the nose, nice and slow. Out through the mouth. You can do it."

Elodie squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to push through the suffocating cloud of her panic. She forced herself to inhale, her chest rising unevenly. The air felt like it was sticking in her throat.

In... out... In... out...

Her breaths were still shallow, and each exhale seemed like it would bring relief but only brought more frustration. With a visible effort, Elodie managed another deep breath, this time more regulated.

Gradually, her breaths became steadier, though they were still punctuated by occasional hitching gasps.

Just as Elodie seemed to be calming down, a blaring alarm erupted through the prison, its shrill wail slicing through the air like a knife. The noise was deafening, ricocheting off the walls and filling every corner of the courtyard with a sense of impending doom.

Elodie's eyes flew wide open again, her body tensing as the sound hit her like a physical blow. "What—what is that?" she stammered. Her hands flew to cover her ears, but the feedback from her hearing aids only sent a piercing shriek straight into her ears, causing her to whimper in distress.

Without hesitation, Rick raised his gun and started firing at the speakers mounted high on the prison walls, each shot aimed with precision.

"Kill it!" Hershel yelled, squeezing Elodie's shoulder in a bid to offer some comfort.

"Back up!" Rick barked at them.

Hershel quickly pulled Beth and Elodie back against the cold stone walls as Rick charged toward them, aiming at the speaker directly above them.

The crack of gunfire echoed through the courtyard, and one by one, the speakers shattered, their wiring sparking as they were destroyed. The noise level in the courtyard dropped slightly as each speaker was taken out, but the alarm didn't stop—it just became less overwhelming.

Elodie flinched at each shot, her hands gripping Beth's arms. "What's—what's goin' on?" she asked again, her voice higher, her breaths hitching in panic. "Why won't it—it stop?"

"It's okay, it's okay," Beth said gently, her own tears streaming freely.

Rick ran toward the prisoners, aiming his gun at their foreheads, yelling at them. It wasn't a minute later that they all darted off towards the prison.

Before leaving, Daryl checked in on Elodie one last time. Relief washed over him as he saw she was starting to calm down. Her tears still flowed, and her breathing was uneven, but she seemed slightly more composed than just moments before.

And another second later, they were all gone.

〰

Beth and Elodie had settled on the cold concrete, their backs pressed against the wall, feet braced against the gate surrounding them. Hershel had suggested they sit down to help Elodie manage her panic, and so they did.

The alarm still blared through the prison, a constant, piercing noise that made it hard to think, but Beth knew she had to help Elodie focus on something else—anything else—to keep the panic from taking over again.

She grabbed Elodie's hands and squeezed, trying to anchor her in the present. "We're gonna do somethin' together, okay? I'm gonna need ya to answer a couple questions, can ya do that?"

Elodie didn't respond at first, but her eyes flickered slightly, a small sign that she was hearing Beth. That was enough for her to continue.

"Alright, let's start with what ya can see," Beth said, her tone soothing as she kept her gaze on Elodie. "Look around, and tell me what ya see."

Elodie's breath hitched, her eyes darting around as if unsure of where to focus. But Beth didn't let go of her hands, squeezing them gently to keep her grounded. 

"It's okay," she whispered. "Just one thing. What can ya see right now?"

Elodie swallowed hard, her voice shaky as she finally spoke. "I-I see... the fence," she stammered, her gaze landing on the metal bars in front of them. "Or—gate, I don't know."

"That's good," Beth encouraged, nodding slowly. "You see the fence. It's strong, it's keepin' us safe right now. Now what can ya smell?"

Taking a shaky breath, Elodie tried to focus, her nose wrinkling slightly as she concentrated. "Dirt... and sweat," she said, her voice just a bit steadier.

"Yeah, that sounds 'bout right," she said, her tone lightening with a soft chuckle. "Last one. What can ya feel?"

Elodie's fingers tightened around Beth's as she tried to process the question. "Your hands," she whispered, her voice shaky but present. "I can feel your hands."

"Yes, ya can feel my hands. They're holdin' yours, keeping ya steady."

Then Beth gave a gentle nudge to Elodie's leg and held her hands up, ready to use sign language. Elodie sighed, biting her lip nervously. It was obvious Beth was doing everything she could think of to distract her from herself.

"My name is Beth. What is your name?"

After hesitating for a moment, Elodie began to respond, "Elodie." Though her hands shook, her focus was shifting to the new form of communication rather than the chaos around them.

Beth's smile widened at Elodie's response. "Pretty," she signed, followed by "I like your shirt."

Elodie's face softened, a hesitant smile creeping onto her face. Her fingers moved to sign back "Thank you."

"You're welcome. How are you feeling now?"

"Better."  It wasn't much, but the fact that she was able to respond was a positive sign.

"What is your favorite animal?"

Before Elodie could even respond, the alarm stopped. For a moment, she was terrified—had she missed the warning that her hearing aids were on the verge of dying? Had they turned off? But when she saw Beth and Hershel reacting with the same surprised relief, she began to relax.

Just to check, "Beth?"

"Yeah, I think Rick, Glenn and Daryl and the prisoners shut it off," came her response, and relief flooded Elodie's senses at the sound of Beth's voice.

Hershel patted both Beth and Elodie on the shoulders to get their attention, and the two girls looked up to see the men jogging back toward them. They quickly stood up, with Elodie nearly tumbling in her haste to reach the gate.

"Open it," Hershel instructed calmly. Elodie complied, and then Hershel directed his question toward the men. "You didn't find them?"

Beth, Elodie, and Hershel exited the gated area, moving carefully down the concrete stairs. As they reached the bottom, Daryl was quick to close the distance between them. His eyes were full of worry as he immediately went to Elodie, his hands gently brushing away the stray strands of hair from her face.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft despite it all. He reached out, his rough hands brushing away the stray hairs sticking to her damp face, and wiped away the remnants of her tears. Elodie leaned into him with a sniffle, exhausted and relieved to see him safe. "Ya a'right?"

"Yes," she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible.

Glenn approached, his face lined with concern. "We thought maybe they came back out here," he said, glancing between Hershel and Beth.

Beth and Hershel exchanged a quick, solemn shake of their heads.

"What about T? Carol?" Hershel asked urgently, his gaze shifting to Daryl.

Daryl's expression hardened. "They didn't make it," he said, his voice strained. 

Elodie's breath hitched, and she bit her lip, fighting back a new wave of tears. She buried her face in Daryl's shirt, looping a finger through his belt loop as if anchoring herself to him.

Carol and T-Dog. Dead, dead, dead, dead.

Daryl looked down at her, surprised by her clinginess. She had never clung to him so tightly before. But given the circumstances, he understood, and gently threaded his fingers through her tangled curls.

Rick, who had been pacing anxiously, turned abruptly, his frustration barely contained. "That doesn't mean the others didn't make it," he said, his tone firm and stressed. "We're goin' back. Daryl and Glenn, you come with—"

Rick's command was cut short by a sudden, high-pitched cry. The sound of an infant's wail pierced through the tension, momentarily halting everyone in their tracks.

Everyone turned, their heads swiveling toward the sound, and saw Maggie and Carl emerging from the cell block on the other side of the courtyard. The sight of them made a smile appear on their facec at first, but as Elodie's gaze fixed on Maggie's arms, confusion clouded her mind.

Wasn't Lori with them?

It took a heartbeat for the truth to sink in. Maggie cradled a small, wrapped bundle—Lori's baby. Without Lori. Lori's baby without Lori.

The realization shattered her, a cold dread settling in her chest.—Lori was gone.

Elodie's heart sank, her grip on Daryl tightening as she tried to make sense of the scene before her.

But she couldn't be! Lori was strong—how could she be dead? How, how, how?

Her eyes locked onto the baby in Maggie's arms. The tiny, helpless form was swaddled in a blanket, its cries sharp and insistent. The sight should have been comforting, but it only intensified the ache in Elodie's chest.

Carol, T-Dog, and Lori. Dead. Gone forever.

Maggie's face was a mask of anguish. She tried to speak, but no words came out—just a desperate gulp of air. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she slowly walked toward Rick, her steps heavy. The space between them seemed to stretch into infinity.

Rick's expression transformed from into one of utter disbelief. He moved toward Maggie, his face ashen as he took in the sight of the baby. His hands trembled as he reached out to Maggie, only to pull his arm back to his side and take a couple steps back. His eyes searched hers for answers that seemed too cruel to be true.

When he saw the baby, his gaze dropped to the ground, and with a shaking hand, he dropped his axe. It fell with a clang that seemed to echo through the courtyard like a funeral bell.

Carl flinched at the noise, his gaze fixed on a distant point, his hands smeared with blood. The sight made Elodie's stomach churn. She wanted to hug him, do anything to comfort him, but she couldn't bring herself to even move an inch.

"Where—where is she?" Rick choked out, though he already knew the answer. He just couldn't accept it. His wife—Carl's mother—couldn't possibly be dead. "Where is she?"

Rick took a few unsteady steps toward the door Maggie and Carl had emerged from, and Maggie, desperately holding the baby, reached out to grab Rick's arm. "No—Rick, no," she sobbed, but her words were swallowed by her sob.

He yanked his arm free, coming to a halt beside Carl. With a shuddering breath, he pressed his palms into his eyes before planting his hands on his knees, daring a sideways look at Carl.

When his son didn't meet his eye, he broke. Any little hope he had of his wife being alive had been snuffed out like a dying candle when that singular tear rolled down Carl's face.

"Oh, no," Rick wailed, his face contorting into a sob. "No!"

Daryl's hand stiffened in Elodie's hair, his entire body going rigid with shared grief. Elodie felt as though she were on the brink of shattering into a million pieces. Her legs felt like they were barely holding her up, and the only thing keeping her from falling apart was Daryl, his arm around her, pulling her close as she choked out a sob.

Rick's pacing grew frantic before he finally collapsed onto the floor, his body racked with uncontrollable wails and sobs.

She could hear Rick's wails, the sound so raw that it felt like a physical blow. It was the sound of a man broken, a family irreparably torn apart. It was a sound Elodie never thought she'd hear again.

Each time Elodie's sobs grew louder, Daryl would gently shush her, pressing a hand to the side of her head, pulling her closer to his chest. He hoped his presence might soothe her pain, even just a little.

Her fingers twisted tighter into his shirt as if she could meld with him and escape the heartache surrounding her. Tears streamed down her face, dripping onto Daryl's shirt, soaking into the fabric as if it could absorb some of her pain. 

She wanted to scream, to let out all the sadness and fear she felt, but all that came out were silent, shuddering breaths. It felt as though the ground had crumbled beneath her. The only thing keeping her from plummeting into that void was Daryl, as long as she could hold onto him.

He could feel the fabric of his shirt straining under her grip, and for a brief moment, he wondered if she might actually rip it. But then the thought vanished as quickly as it came. He realized he wouldn't care if she did. He would tear his whole shirt to shreds if it brought even the slightest bit of comfort to Elodie.

But in that moment, nothing could provide that comfort.

Because Lori Grimes was dead.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

"rest in peace, lori :(" we chant in unison....

omg so off topic but i have a literal HUGE mosquito bite on my leg and it's starting to turn into what looks like a bruise??? idk i might be dying y'all peace out

anyway how we feeling about the long chapter... whoops!