Captive | The Walking Dead |

35

It was the next day and Isabella had yet to talk to anyone. She'd secluded herself in her cell for a short hour before going back out to help in hope of not disappointing the others. She did her best in doing the sections she could reach, but maintained a nonchalant face; not even cracking a smile at Glenn's stupid jokes.

The group knew something had gone down to break her spirit; and while they had their suspicions, only Glenn put the puzzle pieces together. He tried to reach out to comfort her but was met with nothing but cold harsh glazes and a cold shoulder.

Isabella didn't hold any anger to Glenn for making her confess to Rick, for while he denied her, she was still glad she was honest and didn't have to live on reflecting on any 'what if's. Yet she couldn't bring herself to smile for anyone, not even poor Carl.

She hated not talking to Carl and not bringing a smile to his face, but even if she could speak to him, she'd just bring him down with her problems and decided not to dread him with that.

Later in the day Daryl and her had to go out and hunt as their food supply was short. Neither spoke as they treaded the woods, it was what Isabella liked hunting with Daryl. Daryl wasn't one to open up and strike deep conversation and exactly what she didn't need today about Rick.

Yet, she had yet to tell Daryl her condolences about Merle, and before she could feel sorry for herself, she'd always prioritize the group members before herself.

"Hey Daryl?" she said after they had gotten a few small kills, earning a small glance from him. "I never got to say anything earlier, but I'm sorry about what happened to Merle."

"S'okay," he muttered after some moments. "He was an ass anyways."

"He was an ass that still cared for you, even if he had a fucked up way of showing it."

"Yeah, I guess brothers are stupid like tha'."

"Well, I'd like to officially welcome you to the dead brothers club. It's warm and cozy filled with unresolved trauma."

That earned a snort from Daryl and Isabella couldn't help but smile too.

"Dead brothers club," he said, letting the words roll out his mouth. "Like the sound of it."

"Dead bros club," she laughed and the pair headed back the prison, grateful to take the small nice break.

It wasn't long before Isabella excused herself to bed, wanting nothing more than to just collapse and get over the shit day she had.

Bear whined as she laid on the bed, and quickly hopped in with her arms encircling the large dog. She was grateful for some comfort, one that wouldn't ask or pry but merely listen.

She then decided to break down and let it out as quietly as possible into the Bear's warm body.

She decided she'd let every emotion out now, and once tomorrow hit, she'd stop feeling bad for herself, she wasn't going to let Rick break her.

If he couldn't see her for who she was, then he didn't deserve her tears, she was better than that, and she knew Guillermo wanted more for her than to cry over a boy who broke her heart. She stifled a laugh as she pictured an image of Guillermo throwing a punch at Rick for his actions, and soon her sobs turned into laughs, before drifting asleep.

The next day was tense, everyone's focus had shifted to the impending war, and Isabella was glad no one had tried to talk to her about yesterday's events. She knew they're suspicion had risen with her sudden shift in behavior from being quiet yesterday to back to herself today. Though, nobody said anything and she was glad she could focus on getting back to her old self without distraction.