𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 | 𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘎𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴

Memories

- Cass's POV -

The incoming air pushes back against my hand as it hangs out of the open passenger window. The beginnings of fall are evident in the yellowing treeline I look out on as the car flies down the road, scattering countless dead leaves behind us.

The car is quiet as Rick drives, Michonne and Carl sitting in the back together. The autumn air whooshes aggressively as I put the window up with a sigh, getting a little too cold at this point.

I don't need to look in the mirror to know my cheeks and nose are probably flushed, bright pink to compensate for the temperature. I spare a glance at our driver as he wordlessly maneuvers us down the empty country roads. He didn't tell us where we are going, only that we should be able to find some guns and ammo to prepare. Prepare to fight back against Phillip.

Pushing back the suddenly overwhelming negative thoughts surrounding everything Phillip, I focus on Rick's side profile. I can't stop myself from appreciating how good he looks right now as he stares out at the expanding road. The way his bone structure is lit by the morning sun, his intense eyes focused on his task at hand. Over the past couple of weeks, I've noticed that his beard is starting to get a sprinkling of grey amongst the brown. That and his wavy hair the way it's falling, one strand curling out on his forehead, is doing something to me.

When I start to wonder what his stubble would feel like against my face, I look away, my heart hammering. Okay. That's enough Cass.

It's a comfort though, to think about him instead of Phillip. That man brings only dread and hate into my heart, the opposite happening when I see Rick. When I'm with him.

It's become my guilty pleasure. Focusing on him. The safety I feel around him. His capability, his strength, and the way he cares so deeply about his people. It's just - comforting. Maybe that makes me a bad person. At this point, I've decided to stop caring.

Something catches my eye from where I was zoning out the front windshield, daydreaming about the one man I will probably be getting over for the rest of my life. What catches my attention now is a man with a bright orange backpack, walking down the side of the road. At the sound of our SUV, he turns, jumping up and down and waving his hands at us. I heartlessly watch as we drive right past him, leaves flying up behind us, feeling absolutely nothing leaving him behind.

A year ago, we would have stopped. Like we did for that Randall kid. But now, it's not worth the risk. Nothing is worth putting our lives in danger anymore. I hate to say it, especially how much our new thought process reminds me of Shane. Maybe he was right, just ahead of his time.

I glance back at Rick, who is equally emotionless as he continues to drive, not a flicker of guilt going through those captivating features. I wonder what the people we were back then would think of us now. Probably that we're barbarians who start wars with other communities instead of trying to coexist. The kind of people that leave a stranger on the side of the road, probably ensuring his death. I sigh as I look down at my clasped hands in my lap, my skin contrasting against the dark blue of my jeans. I suppose it doesn't matter now.

It's about thirty minutes later when Rick finally pulls off at the entrance of a small town, nestled between a forest and a few scattered farms. We pull up on the side of the road in a downtown area, with brick buildings lining the street accompanied by faded signs indicating what each building used to be. Carl perks up in his seat, his head whipping to Rick. "Are we-" He starts and Rick nods, a slight smile on his, frankly distracting, lips.

"Yeah. We're home." Rick confirms, stopping the car and getting out.

Home?

I step out on my side, shutting the door behind me and looking around. I'm glad I wore my sherpa-lined denim jacket today, it's absolutely freezing. Pulling it closer to my body for warmth, I inspect the small rundown store beside me and the sign that reads 'King's County Thrift Center' Huh.