Pain was a funny thing, really. The way it could be so subjective. It was such a negative thing, such a harmful factor that feeds greedily off of people in every atmosphere possible, like a never ending story. Like a parasite that will never leave, that could never be rid no matter what you did. It was unfair, truly, how such a damaging thing could be split into so many different categories. Mental pain, physical pain, psychological pain, there's such a variety in ways that one could suffer and drown in the antagonizing struggle, and the worst part of it all was that you could never be limited to just one. Never be contained to just one kind of affliction that you deteriorate in, because it was completely possible and somehow completely normal to bear every kind of pain there was at once.

Again, funny. Really.

Riley sat on the edge of a metal train track, her mind wandering the hallways of these meddlesome thoughts. As she was tormented by the sorrowful grief that had been choking her ruthlessly for the past few days, her hands trembled with the aftertaste of a fiery burn as a result from the skin there being sliced open. Carl and Michonne had found a medical kit on their run, and in it a bandage roll. A good amount of the things inside of it had been missing, but there had been a container of ointment as well, although things such as alcohol or anything useful for stitches had been gone. It was good enough though, and Riley was grateful for what they had at the least. They'd spared some water to clean the dried blood from her palms, laying the balm onto her sore wounds and wrapping them firmly. Although taken care of, the girl's hands still bore a searing ache, like the throbbing pain had a heart of its own, blood pulsing with a rhythm to its own brain and body. The sting had numbed to a low burn that traveled the surrounding areas, leaving everything from the start of her hands to the middle of her fingertips a dangerously sensitive zone, and it was quite annoying in the most blatant way.

Riley was fumbling with the end of the bandage on her right hand, the material becoming a little loose and getting in her way a little more than appreciated. She tried to get it to stick back again, but it only clung to itself for a few seconds before falling away just like it had the past few times. She scoffed in annoyance, becoming a little rougher with the act, irritating exasperation beginning to swell inside her.

"You need help?" Carl sat down next to her, the heavy duffel bag that was previously hanging on his shoulder dropped to the ground with a hard thud.

"Yeah, I just can't get this to stick." Riley muttered, gaze flickering up to the boy for only a moment before looking down at the bandage on her palm again.

"Can I...?" Carl gestured to her hand, and Riley held her arm out to him. His touch was gentle when he took hold of her wrist, fingertips touching softly to her skin as he was careful not to hurt her. He grabbed onto the end of the bandage that kept flying away from where it was supposed to be and fumbled with it a bit, tucking it tightly in between the layers of the wrap.

"Is that too tight?" He asked, letting his own hand fall from hers.

"No, it's fine." Riley shook her head, running a hand over the material gracing her skin. She smiled lightly in his direction. "Thanks."

"No problem." Carl shrugged. He kicked at a small rock for a little, neither of them saying anything for a bit.

The air carried a small wisp of frigidness to it, and every time a breeze swept by Riley's skin grew goosebumps from the light wash of coldness. Her hair grew a little dismantled by the wind, but she didn't mind, not really, anyway. She appreciated the gestures of nature, the way they gifted her a sense of reality that wasn't life threatening or contained any blood and loss. Things like stepping on crunchy leaves or watching rabbits chase each other around on the brinks of the forest line restored her faith in normality in a way.

"Did you name him yet?" Carl said suddenly. His gaze was drawn to the dog, who sat a couple yards behind them, not near anyone. Rick and Michonne were a little ways up the train tracks, having a deep conversation. Riley had a strong idea it was about where their little group would be staying the next few nights, where they'd be sleeping and what they'd be eating. Everything in that little bubble. The animal seemed to have a liking to not being near them most of the time, or rather not with them. It traveled behind them sometimes, or ahead of them, or other times it'd run off and come back again. It was like it drifted around them, but wasn't quite sure if it wanted to mark its stay as permanent.

Riley shook her head in response to the boy's question. "I don't know if he wants to stay with us yet."

"So what?" Carl asked. "He should still get a name, I think."

Riley smiled, the expression a little faint on her face. "Yeah? What are you thinking?"

Carl shrugged again. "I don't know. It's not my dog."

"It's not mine either." Riley pointed out. One could argue that the canine did save her life twice, and seemed much less threatening around her, although the girl thought it more realistic that the dog was alone in the already lonely world. Maybe it just wanted company at times, hence why it lingered around their group a lot.

"I guess." Carl said. His stare still lingered on the animal, but he dropped the topic. "My family had a dog before the outbreak."

Riley glanced over at him. The information was new, but she wasn't quite surprised. Most families had dogs prior to the apocalypse, if not a lot. All of the Grimes' had described their family as a pretty normal one when referring to their old life. Carl used to tell her of how his mom used to attempt to cook him pancakes every weekend, how they'd have pizza parties and go on family hikes all the time. A dog seemed like it fit the picture perfectly. She waited for him to continue.

"Yeah. She was four years old when it all started, and she used to love playing fetch. She also ate everything in sight, drove my mom crazy." Carl said, face awash in contentment at the recollection. His eyebrows furrowed a little as he dug more for her in his memory. "She was white, with black spots."

Riley grinned, eyes tracing the boy's face. "Let me guess, her name was Oreo."

Carl laughed. "Oh, how did you know?"

"I don't know, I just have a knack for things like that." Riley suppressed her smile by pressing her lips together as the wind blew again, tousling her hair.

"Oh, I bet." Carl said with false praise. He elbowed her in the side to highlight his joke, grinning to himself. "Her name was Sasha."

Riley hummed. "I like that name."

"I picked it." Carl remarked, looking down at his shoes. The air grew a colder feeling, although the temperature didn't change. Riley didn't have to ask to know what happened to her, she chewed at her lip a little bit, watching the boy's disheartened demeanor.

"My dad and I always wanted a dog." She said gently. "We never ended up getting one, but he always wanted one."

"Yeah?" Carl turned his head toward her slightly.

Riley nodded. "He had everything picked out too. He said if it was a girl, her name would be Jack-A-Roe. If it was a boy, Tennessee Jed. Named after two of his favorite songs from his favorite band."

Carl's lips twitched at the unusual names. "What band?"

"The Grateful Dead." Riley said, smile broadening as the boy's face broke into a laugh. "I know, it's terrible. But no one could change his mind, believe me, I tried."

"It's clever, I'll give him that. It's just very..." Carl paused, looking for the right word.

"Awful." Riley guessed. "Strange. Odd. Insanely weird, all of the above?"

"Very original." Carl subbed in, an animated smile cast upon his lips.

Riley nodded, mirroring his expression. "My father was a very original man."

Carl's smile faltered, his eyes wandering up and down Riley's image before turning to follow his own dad's. His eyebrows furrowed, a little confusion tugging at him from both ends. He wasn't blind, he'd noticed the way both people were ignoring each other, the way Riley would go out of her way to stand as far as she could from Rick at all times and the way the man's gaze would follow her with a distant expression before dropping. Carl turned back toward Riley.

"Is... something going on with you and my dad?" He asked hesitantly. "Are you mad at him, or something?"

Riley frowned, her stance growing a little stiff as she glanced toward him in question.

"I don't know, you guys just seem like you're mad at each other. Did he say something?" Carl's words were evened out with a cautious tone, as if not wanting to push a button that wasn't meant to be pushed.

Riley shook her head with a soft sigh of disappointment and despondency. "It's what he didn't say."

Carl frowned as he analyzed her words. Riley turned away from him, picking at a bundle of weeds by her shoe. Everything that had happened with the man only took place a few hours ago, and although her anger had simmered down from the raging flames it had grown to before, the resentment and sting was still there. That was what she meant, when she had thought about pain just before. The aching burn in her hands was so drastically different from the hurt she felt when thinking about Rick and Meg. The loss she felt when her stepmother died, that withering hole and helpless feeling she'd bore when everything came crashing down at a pace faster than she could keep up with was so much more impactful than the injury laying bloody in her hands. Compared to that, the blade against her soft skin was like a paper cut. But in truth, they were so different it was kind of hard to compare them.

Regardless, that physical pain was even more belittled when Riley found out that Meg wasn't sick, that there wasn't a way to save her that whole time. Whether Riley had managed to get the woman back to her feet or not, Meg would still be dead right now. It was all inevitable, and the worst part was that Riley had no clue the woman was quite literally rotting to the bone in front of her the whole time it was happening. The fact Riley had pushed Meg away when she tried to tell her of the fatal bite placed God knows where on her body made the girl feel an unbearable amount of self loathing, of shameful guilt. Riley knew that it was no one's fault but her own, but her anger towards Rick blazed blindingly bright because of the embarrassing betrayal felt deep in her core. Rick had been told of Meg's bite nearly right after it happened. He knew. He knew she was dying, that she was going to die. And yet, he had kept such a tight mouth around Riley. Of course she knew it wasn't his place to tell her, but the hurt was still prominent when she thought about the fact that he knew she was blind to the truth and still said nothing about it. Did he not feel any guilt? Did he care about that at all? Perhaps, it was the thought that she believed Rick would never let her go a day without knowing these sorts of things immediately, the thought that he would tell her, would hold her as she cried, would offer his shoulder to rest her heavy head upon while she fought through the thickness of torment and sorrow. But instead, he did the opposite. He'd known of it all and didn't care enough to say a word about it. Maybe it was that, that stung so badly. Rick simply didn't care enough to tell her.

"So, what happened?" Carl asked.

"What?" Riley was pulled from her thoughts the minute Carl's voice broke the silence. She nearly jumped at the noise, the sentence catching her off guard.

"My dad, what happened?"

"Oh." Riley remembered what they were talking about instantly. "Meg was bit. She got bit in the sick ward and he knew about it."

The girl felt an odd feeling wash over her as she spoke it aloud, the realness of it all felt much more factual, like being highlighted so it stood out clearer. She hated having to speak it, to have to put it out into the world so that it was a known thing rather than a harrowing thought plaguing her mind.

"I'm sorry." Carl said, although his facial expressions exposed the fact that he just didn't really know what to say. Was she saddened by the fact? Angered? Both or none or something else?

"Don't be." Riley said. "There wasn't anything we could do anymore."

"Still sucks, though." Carl voiced, looking her way with a softened gaze.

Riley nodded to hide the harsh swallow that ran through her throat. "Yeah. It does."

Carl glanced over toward the girl, his lips pressed together and his posture tight before averting his gaze. Riley's stare was drawn down, her fingers tugging and toying with weeds whilst her eyes blinked rapidly. Her face was stripped, emotionless. He knew that she wasn't though, that if anything she was doing right now it was just feeling. Straight out. There were a lot of feelings that someone in her place could be experiencing, in any of their places, although each person in the group's vision and point of view on the past few days varied. It was a comforting thought to think they had each other, at least. Carl just hoped Riley understood that.

It was the girl's sharp and indrawn breath that pulled Carl from his own little world, and at first, he thought she had hurt herself. His watch was drawn to her on instinct, but she was sitting just as she was before. She seemed as if she were debating on saying something.

"Did you-" Riley cut herself off, as if trying to form the right sentence in her mind while saying it at the same time. "When we left the house, did you notice anything weird? Like, did you see someone there?"

Carl's eyes narrowed. "No, why?"

"Oh." Riley's head angled down. She had remembered seeing a face in the window of the house they'd claimed right as they were running from it. She remembered the familiarity in the structures, the features. But maybe in the haze of it all her mind had performed a wicked trickery on her, putting on a play in front of her eyes with things that weren't really there.

"Why?" Carl asked again, leaning a little closer. "Riley, did you see something?"

Riley looked over to Carl, the concern on her face undeniable as she was afraid she would sound insane if she told him what she saw, but the intrigued worry and curiosity etched onto his expression forced her to spit it out anyway.

"I think... Carl, I think I saw Sam in there." She said quietly, her tone poisoned with unease. She searched his face for any sign of disbelief or annoyance, but none was there. His expression flickered as the memory of the male twin that was once part of their group rambled through his brain.

"In the house? Are you sure?" He asked with worry lacing his tone. His eyes held that look he had when he was savior complex was beginning to activate.

"I- I think so. Should we go back for him?" Riley suggested, eyes flickering back and forth across Carl's face. "Would that be stupid?"

"I don't know." Carl shook his head, gaze falling to the distance, from the way they came. "We have to tell my dad."

"Yeah." Riley nodded earnestly. Her resentment toward the man at the moment didn't blind her from rationality, she knew it would be the best option. She just silently prayed she wasn't mistaken, that she wasn't seeing things and leading them to a foreign trail just because her eyes had deceived her.

"Hey, kids!" An intruding voice called from up ahead. Both Carl and Riley's head snapped up at the shout. Rick was faced toward them, tugging his large gun onto his shoulder as Michonne turned to them as well. "We're moving. Come on."

Riley got to her feet, Carl right on her side. Her head turned behind them, glancing over at the dog who trotted along tufts of grass, nose poking in and out of the scenery as it searched for what the girl guessed was food. She pondered on whistling to it, trying to signal for it to come follow them, but then settled on the fact that if it wanted to continue its journey with them then it would.

She started walking toward Rick and Michonne, the Paris tote bag that Carl had found at the clothing shop they'd raided hanging on her shoulder. The boy had decided to bring it along when he and Michonne went on their run, and now it hung loosely off of Riley's body as the weight of new supplies clung to it.

With the teens only a few feet away, the adults began their own trek again, the group traveling in a neatly squared lineup. Michonne's body was only an arm's length away from Riley, her own bag draped along her back. She looked down at the girl beside her, whose look was angled toward the ground again, hands cradled by her stomach as she picked at the bandages they were wrapped in.

"You alright?" Michonne asked, a softly lit, knowing, smile on her plump lips.

Riley glanced up at her, smiling back with a forced effort. "Yeah."

Michonne nodded, placing a hand on the brunette's shoulder before focusing on the long walks ahead. Riley's eyes were drawn heatedly to the ground, the only thing in her sight being the rusted metal of the train tracks and her shoes taking turns to step in and out of her view as they carried her forward. She felt small, excruciatingly tiny in a big, foreign world. Her home was demolished, burned to the ground. The only other house they had lived in was ran through by a group of savage men who- if Riley's guess proved correct- had one of their friends in their hold. She didn't even know if Samson was there by choice or if he was being forced to travel alongside the assembled men. And now, she was walking along a railroad with no clue as to where she would be staying the next few days. Was it too much to ask for closure? To at least have somewhere and something to work for? Walking in the open space had far too many possibilities, more than Riley was comfortable with. She wished she didn't feel as alone as she did right now, she wished she still had her mother with her, but that chance was diminished along with the woman's existence in itself. Maybe she could work toward something else, toward someone else. Riley felt positive her brother was somewhere out there, looking for her as well. With the two efforts combined, it might just be possible that she could find him again. That was what she wished for, to find Sawyer in the wrecked world they lay wasted in. That was what she was going to do, because that was the only thing she really could do.

"Crazy Cheese?" Carl's voice sounded in Riley's ear. The girl looked over at him, a bottle of something in his held to which he outstretched to her.

Riley's eyebrows furrowed at the foreign name, she laughed as she examined the can. "What?"

Carl gestured toward the label on the container, which did in fact, read 'Crazy Cheese.' Riley grinned, shaking her head.

"I'm okay. Maybe later."

"Might be gone later." Carl shrugged, putting the bottle back into his bag and zipping it up. "Someone here's gonna finish it off before then."

"Why don't you give me a save the date on that?" Riley teased, knowing pretty well she wouldn't be ingesting any of the substance in the can.

Carl laughed, and out of the corner of her eye Riley could see Michonne smiling at the interaction. The girl let her stare fall back to the ground, wondering if Carl had told the woman of their make up, as she knew the two were pretty close. He'd adopted Michonne as a mother figure sort of at one point, Riley had noticed. She was also aware of the fact Michonne knew of their fallout, for she'd came a little after Lori had passed and only witnessed the very end of their friendship, but from there on out she'd only seen the way all of their communication and interactivity was strangely one sided and cold. Even if she hadn't been filled in, she could clearly see the way things were patching up now, blossoming in the darkness of the scenarios they all sat in. At least one good thing came out of it all.

The slowing down of Carl, Rick, and Michonne's footsteps pulled Riley's gaze from the ground and up to her surroundings. A large train car was parked on the tracks, its brown wood gleaming in the flaring sunlight. A banner was strewn across it, the white material a pleasant background that portrayed the darker words on it like an outstanding display. Riley stepped up closer, head tilting up as she read the words.

Terminus. Sanctuary for all. Community for all. Those who arrive survive.

"What do you think?" Michonne asked, looking to Rick with a questionable hope written along her voice and swimming in her tone.

There was danger in the choice they were all leaning towards, risk. But then again, what more is there to lose when you've already lost everything? How much farther could you sink when you're already at rock bottom? Of course, if they made the choice to go, to try for this new place, they could be offering their lives up for free. But then again, if you get pushed so hard that you never try and fight back, you miss every chance thrown at you because of the fear it'll all fall apart again. After everything, Riley felt validated in the fact she was afraid to try for a new home, but more than anything, she just wanted to live again. Not just survive. There was something to work for, a community, and possibly a place where her friends and her family were too, in the luck that they'd seen similar signs before. Maybe Sawyer was there as well. Riley's choice was made, she just hoped Rick would make the same one. She looked over at him, a silent decision dancing in her eyes.

"Let's go." Rick said. He nodded, his conclusion strengthening as he looked around at his group, his family. "Let's go."

Hours had passed since the group of four- well, technically five-, had stumbled upon the promotion to the so called community Terminus. They'd followed the map that led the way to the place, only taking one or two stops along the way, as Rick had insisted they move as fast as possible. Throughout the whole time, Riley didn't speak much, and if she did, it wasn't to Rick. In fact, she'd stuck to the very middle of the group, her main company being the dog. She didn't mind though, sometimes human conversation failed to raise her spirits and only ran down her motivation to continue the long day in which she felt stuck in. The canine stuck around her legs sometimes, other times running off to chase a rabbit, but when it wandered back to the group it found a home in Riley's presence.

Laughter and shouts were splitting into the air at rapid paces from behind her, eliciting from the mouth's of none other than Carl and Michonne. Rick walked up ahead of Riley, alone with nothing but his gun and his thoughts. Riley made no move to talk to him, to step into line with him, she just didn't know if she was quite ready yet. Rick hadn't made any move to try and speak with her though, so for the moment Riley appreciated her alone time.

"What are you doing?" Rick asked after about fifteen minutes of the joyous sound from behind him. He turned around, and with him, Riley did as well, not wanting to be caught in unwanted eye contact.

Michonne and Carl were in a fit mad fit of giggles, balancing as they walked along the thin rails of the train tracks.

"Winning a bet." Carl replied to his father, gaze focused solely on the rails and nowhere else for the sake of his balance.

"In your dreams." Michonne answered to the boy's statement. She wobbled a little, the weight of her bag and katana throwing her off slightly, but she kept her ground in quite an astounding manner.

Riley watched with an intrigued stare, her lips twitching upwards just a little. Her hand bumped into something at her side, drawing her to look down. The tip of the dog's nose brushed her fingers, catching her off guard. That was the first time the animal had every touched her before, before it had only walked by her side, never coming quite close enough to come into contact.

"Who do you think is going to win? Huh?" Riley's voice raised in pitch as she spoke quietly to the dog, whose ears twitched upon the sound. Gently, she ran her fingers along its head, and it let her. "Good boy."

A shout from Carl's mouth caught Riley's attention again, and she saw him struggle on one foot before regaining his balance.

Michonne laughed. "You spoke too soon, wise guy."

"This might go on a while." Rick said as he began to walk toward the pair. "Maybe we can speed this up."

"Yeah, you're right." Michonne nodded, breaths heavy from concentration. "Shouldn't be fooling around. We should probably- Carl!"

The woman flinched at the boy, outstretching her arm in attempts to catch him off guard and trip his steady path, but her plan only backfired. Carl grinned back at her, body completely still on the rails as Michonne fell sideways and onto the grass. Riley laughed, watching Michonne shake her head as she accepted her defeat.

"I win." Carl said, voice awash in victorious pride. "Pay up."

The familiarity of the first two words sent a shocking wave through Riley's body. Carl used to say those very words to her, back when the farm was destroyed and they were living on the roads. It was interesting, how here they were again, home tore down and living out in the open. The only difference was that Carl was still in the game, and now someone else had taken Riley's spot.

The girl's face stung with shame, maybe even embarrassment as the thought crossed her mind. There was no way in hell she was getting jealous of the fact Carl had come up with a new little game with someone else, especially if that someone was Michonne. Riley loved Michonne, the feeling was mutual. She knew that. Perhaps it was the fact that her and Carl's little game became a little more spread out, and was no longer just their thing. Or maybe she was thinking too deep into it. Riley turned around, beginning to walk again, hopes high that the farther she walked the farther away she'd be from that strange, strange, feeling.

A pair of footsteps grew louder next to Riley's, and it wasn't the dog's this time. They were heavier, and a lot less than four repeated paces. The girl glanced up to her side, seeing Carl's grinning face beside her. He held out a chocolate bar in front of them.

"Look what I got." He grinned, proudly. "Winner's choice."

Riley hummed at the brown wrapper in his hand. "Impressive."

"Maybe I'll let you have a piece. I'm kind of debating on whether you deserve it or not." Carl said, the tease in his voice tingling the girl's insides.

"Ouch." She said, sarcasm displayed across her face as she looked over at him. The wind blew a piece of her hair up, and she tucked it behind her ear, turning her head away from the breeze.

Carl tore the wrapper down the middle, peeling it down the bar so he had a grip. "I think I'll let you have a bite."

"No, no. That's too much for me to ask for." Riley rolled her eyes, not bothering to fight off the smile on her face. She readjusted the bag on her shoulder, the straps beginning to fall.

"Here." Carl held it out to her, his clutch still on the bottom. "Take a bite before I change my mind."

Riley bent her head down, taking advantage of the chance he gave to her. She pulled away, hand covering her mouth slightly as Carl gaped down at the remainders of the chocolate he had left for himself.

"That is not a bite, that's like a mouthful!" He protested, his complaint only feeding onto the girl's amusement.

"Hey, you never gave me a limit." Riley shrugged as the boy bit into his own prize.

"I feel like that's more of an unspoken rule." Carl said as he rolled up the wrapper.

"Don't throw that on the ground." Riley held her hand out to him. "Bad for the environment."

Carl made a face at her, dropping the trash into her hands and wiping his own off on his pants. "What? You mean the environment that's infested with walkers and literally abandoned?"

"That's the one." Riley dropped the wrapper in her bag, pulling a hair tie from her wrist to pull her hair into a ponytail.

"You're weird." Carl shook his head, although that smile of his was plastered onto his face.

Riley grinned, the sight lighting a fuse inside her. "Tell me that after you try and break down another door with your race car skills, psycho."

Carl shot her a nasty look, his face turning red. "Yeah. Funny."

"I know." Riley said, facing forward as to ignore any more words the boy had to say. She gave him a glance from the side, but his smile was still there, prominent on his face like there wasn't a care in the world, like they weren't living on the road and they weren't walking into what might just be a death trap or the decision of their life, blindfolded.

Riley's own lips split into a grin, thankful for the fact that through all of it she at least had her best friend again. That was more than she could've asked for.

"How hungry are you, scale of one to ten?" Rick's gravelly voice asked the group surrounding him.

The day had come to a rest, the sun that had held up the sky in a boundless expanse of bright light and warm air had began to nestle itself into the line of the earth's meet with the stars. Above them, the sky was growing darker by the minute, air cooler with the second. A fire crackled in the middle of the group, the warmth radiating in waves that passed through Riley's body like a shiver in the cold. All around her were trees and fallen leaves, as the adults in the group thought it safest to wander from the train tracks and make themselves as unnoticeable as possible.

"Fifteen." Carl said, settling on his knees. His smug look was illuminated in the fire light.

Rick nodded, a playful smile cast upon his face. He looked over at Michonne, who gave him a knowing glance.

"Twenty-eight." The woman said, crouched as she prodded at the fire in front of her.

Riley felt the man's stare on her face, although her gaze was angled only toward the fire in front of her. She knew what he was trying to do, and an uncomfortable feeling grazed her shoulder like a witch's wrinkled touch upon her bare skin. Her lips stayed uncomfortably tight, and a part of her wanted to answer, although the muscles in her mouth stayed loyal to her anger.

"Probably like an eight." Carl chuckled from beside the girl. She looked over at him, his face smiling gently as he looked between her and his father. "She ate like half of my Big Cat earlier."

Riley's mouth twitched into a grin. "Yeah, it's not like you offered it or anything."

Carl shrugged, though his face still held its content look upon it. His mission of getting her to speak up in the conversation had proved to be a success.

"Yeah, well, it's been a while." Rick said, although his voice sounded a little hollow. "I'm gonna go check the snares."

"Can I go with you?" Carl perked up after blowing out a flame on a stick held tightly in his grasp. He looked up at his father with a pleading glance.

"Well, how else are you gonna learn?" Rick asked, kicking out the fire. "Hey, you too."

Riley's eyes followed up the man's body until they landed on his face, his eyes staring right back down at her. She dropped her gaze back down to the floor, sucking on her teeth before standing up with Carl, Michonne kicking out the fire as well.

Rick walked over to grab his gun and a bag, leaving Riley with Carl and Michonne. She held onto the handle of her knife, tapping against it to distract herself from the bubbling annoyance in her stomach. It wasn't even anger or hatred, just annoyance. From the fact that Rick knew what he had done and still said nothing about it, still did nothing.

"Come on." The man's words broke Riley's train of thought like a knife carving through soft cake. He lead the group away from their sight, venturing out into the woods.

Leaves crunched underneath the girl's foot and squirrels chased each other in the distance. The sight of it all was like pouring cool water on the heated boil in her body. She dipped under a wire behind Carl, glancing around. She had to give it to Rick, his set ups were impressive. His survival skills were sharp, helpful in their circumstances in nearly every scenario.

"We'll stay another day or two." He voiced to the group as they came down a hill. "Get some more rest."

"Finish healing up?" Michonne quipped from next to Riley.

"I'm almost there." Rick replied to the woman, a nod with his sentence. It was true, his face was beginning to lose its puffiness, the dark bruises on his face fading into light greens and purples instead of the angry blackness they once shined. The cuts on his face were scabbing now, no longer oozing with scarlet red blood.

Riley kept herself quiet, not very interested in conversation. It was a usual response to when she felt like she did, upset without a readiness to communicate or speak to anyone. Although, it wasn't usual her to be like that in general, as she was normally more happy in a sense. She hated feeling like she wasn't in a good mood, but in felt inevitable this time.

Riley's hand was still stuck to her knife, her other arm swinging loosely by her side. Occasionally, she'd bump elbows with Carl, who walked beside her with his hands stuck in the pockets of his zip up. Each time it happened, she expected him to jerk away from her touch, to snap at her, to roll his eyes and readjust his pace so that he wasn't walking right next to her anymore. Instead, though, he just let it happen without a care. It was strange, Riley felt, this new version of him that wasn't disgusted by her every touch. Well, technically, it was the very old version of him, making its reappearance. It'd just take some getting used to.

"We're close now, right?" Carl asked his father, shivering against the wind.

"To Terminus?"

"Yeah."

"We are."

The confirmation eased Riley a little bit. Soon, no more walking, no more starving, no more of any of it. The thought of it settled the tenseness in her body, although the minute they wound up there would be the minute they found out if any of their group had made it there as well. That thought, that was scary.

"When we get there, are we gonna tell them?" Carl asked.

"Tell them what?" Riley asked, the question slipping her mouth before she even thought of it, although, she didn't silently wish she'd stayed quiet, because she was just talking to Carl. Not to Rick.

"Everything that's happened to us." Carl said as he looked over at Riley. "All the stuff we've done. Are we gonna tell them the truth?"

Riley thought about his questions. This was their chance to start over, to begin a new life. Did that beginning mean shedding the old? Or do you embrace it, and help it mold you into who you will become? There was a possibility their past could be hated, shamed, maybe get them sent away. Or, their past could make them be viewed in a light of strength, of power, of something other than weak people begging for a chance to live again. There was also the prospect that everyone who went to Terminus had a similar backstory, and they would be seen as normal. That was fine with Riley too.

"We're gonna tell them who we are." Rick said with a nod of his head.

"But how do you say that? I mean... who are we?" Carl asked with an air of lostness in his voice.

Rick looked down as the question swarmed his ears. He didn't have an answer, at least not yet. Riley didn't have one either. The question was too broad to give a response to upon instant. There were so many layers and stories and motives to dive into before giving up and answer that deemed true.

The sound of a walker stumbling alone throughout the woods captured everyone's focus in less than a second. Walking toward it, Rick and Carl held up their guns while Michonne unsheathed her katana, leaving Riley to reveal the blade of her knife. Technically, there was no use for her to pull out her own weapon, hence the fact two guns and a sharpened sword would clearly do more damage faster than her hand knife would, but the biggest mistake one could make in this world was to underestimate the dangers laying around every corner. It was moments like these, though, that Riley wished for her bow again, packed with a full set of arrows sharpened at the tip. That was another thing she had taken for granted, her comfort weapon that was ripped to pieces and the scene of Meg's death.

Michonne stepped forward, slicing the walker's head clean in half and letting the body fall. Without a word, they moved onto the snares.

"There you go." Rick said excitedly, running toward the trap he set down. "It's a small one. It'll do."

The man pulled a little rabbit out from the trap, examining it before tucking it away into his bag. Riley watched the way the fur reflected the light of the dimming sun. It had to have died recently, she was sure of it. She winced a little as Rick closed the bag as if he'd just tucked away a bundle of bread.

"So, this is a simple slipknot." Rick explained to the three people surrounding him. "Tie one on both ends, then you tighten one side to a branch. Now, you see how the ground here is sort of like a funnel shape?"

Riley's head tilted toward the ground, the patterns in its curve. "It's a trail."

"That's right." Rick nodded, looking up at her for a moment before glancing down again. "That's where you want to set the noose. So you hide it with leaves, then you put sticks all around it so any animals going by have to run this way." Rick gestured to the dip in the ground with his hands as he knelt by it. He slipped his hand through the loop he made. "Right into the trap."

Carl grinned in astonishment as he examined the snare, sharing a look with his father that made Riley's head turn the opposite way. She was keen on getting back to their site, as her stomach felt as if it were clawing at itself, fighting over nothing because she felt so empty. She just wanted to get the fire going again, get the animal cooked, then maybe catch a somewhat comfortable night of sleep on the forest floor.

Rick was beginning to stand again when a shout from nearby called out, piercing the silent air like a bullet.

"Help!" A man yelled from somewhere hidden by the trees. "Somebody help!"

On instant, Carl sprang up, running toward the sound like his life depended on it. He sprinted through the scenery, his figure practically disappearing in the time it took everyone else stand up completely.

"Carl!" Riley shouted, running after him.

"Carl, stop!" Rick was right at Riley's side, his frantic body sprinting after his son. "Carl!"

"Get back!" The voice shouted again, panic and desperation overwhelming his tone. "Back!"

The sound of walkers snarling began to fall upon Riley's ears, the man's pleads for help growing louder, wilder. Carl didn't stop running, his frame moving at a furious speed throughout the woods despite the shouts from behind him to stop and slow down.

Finally, he'd halted, right at the tree line where his gun raised. In a clearing right ahead, Riley could see a man in glasses waving a stick around in defense as a crowd of walkers began to close in on him. Her eyes widened as she stopped in her path, her hand coming to her agape mouth.

Michonne's hand closed in around Riley's arm, tugging her back so that she was hidden behind a group of trees while Rick pulled Carl toward the same spot.

"We can't help him." He whispered into the boy's ear, but Carl's stare was stuck onto the scene, watching as the walkers tore gruesomely at the man's skin.

Suddenly, Riley felt an inexplicable feeling sprout in the base of her stomach. It traveled up from the pits of her gut and into her throat where she felt a surge of nauseating bile begin to form. She'd seen this film before, when the prison was attacked and when that one grenade exploded. When Meg fell and couldn't get up again, when Riley's bow was restricted under a heavy piece of metal that refused to move with all its being. The vision of the man screaming as the walkers that surrounded him ate him alive begin to blend with Meg's body being torn open by the teeth of the walkers who had attacked her. It was like Riley was rewatching her death a second time, it was all the same, like a replica of the scenario. She felt sick, disgusted, like every second that passed in which she viewed the traumatic scene in front of her only added to the gut wrenching feeling inside of her, ate at her like the walkers were eating that man. But she couldn't look away. She felt stuck, paralyzed, like she was being forced to watch the man as he fell to the ground and died the slowest and most painful death there was now as a punishment. A punishment for what exactly, she didn't know. But there had to be a reason her body was forcing her to witness the one thing that left her absolutely traumatized and confined.

Riley couldn't even registered what had happened after that. The only thing she could do was see. See the walkers as they began to notice the group of four watching them from a distance, see Rick panic and shout to the whole group that they had to go, see them all running. She felt Michonne pull on her arm again, drag her along with her as they sprinted through the woods. There it was again, the thought of pain. The psychological pain, the mental pain, all of it coming in like a flood as Meg's death repeated itself in the forefront of Riley's mind like a video on replay. As she ran, Riley could barely see her surroundings as they mapped out. It took what felt like hours to finally catch a hold of herself and focus on the escape they were making although it was really just a few minutes. Soon, she could feel her feet hitting the forest floor, hear the heavy breathing of Carl, Rick, and Michonne beside her.

There she was again, running. Just when she thought they'd stopped. Riley truly had believed they were going to settle down, sleep by the warmth of a fire during the chilled hours of the night, let Rick heal while they took a day to rest. It was funny, really, how every time Riley thought they were getting closer to safe something had to happen. And somehow, they'd always ended up running. Just like she was now.

a/n - this was basically a filler chapter, sorry if it was boring 😭 i kinda hate it but it's wtv

- the thing ab riley's dad wanting to name dogs after grateful dead songs was actually inspired by my dad LMFAO but i thought it would be cute to add in

- i just found out riley's personality type is enfj which i have no clue whether or not it's compatible w carl but i did find out their zodiac signs are compatible which is cute <33

- i want to add a tw rn for next chapter, bc it will have the s/a scene w carl and therefore riley too, so i just want everyone reading to be aware

- thank u guys for reading! next chapter will come soon i love u all :))