I sat in the common room, sharpening my knife and making small talk with Michonne. Two days have passed since we met with the Governor, and as far as I know, we were planning on going to war with Woodbury. The atmosphere has been tense these past two days; we're walking on eggshells around one another, unsure if today will be the last. Silence ensued between us. The only sound came from my knife scraping the sharpener. I jumped at the sound of the loud squeaking of the cell door, smiling with Michonne at my jumpiness. Daryl walked in with Hershel, his face set in his signature scowl as he sat beside me. Hershel gave me a sad nod—his smile that he usually flashed me nonexistent.
"What's up?" Michonne asked, glancing at me as she noticed both men's suspicious demeanor. Daryl shook his head and folded his arms on the table, his eyes glued down to the metal. What's up with him?
"What's the plan for today?" Daryl asked, changing the subject. Seriously, what's up with this man? What's he hiding? I stopped sharpening my blade and examined it, deciding to shove his weird behavior aside.
"Well, I want to set some spike strips in the field," I explained, "Maybe have Glenn look at the fence to make sure it's still holding up." We had cleared the yard about two weeks ago. While it was a significant win, I was still on edge about the chain not holding up. What if walkers pushed against it, and their dead weight busts it open? "Maybe have some people taking out the walkers so their weight doesn't topple our fence over."
"Sounds good," Michonne nodded, her hands playing with a few flyaway strings of her jacket, "We can't forget about the threat the walkers impose because of the Governor." I nodded as I put my knife back in my holster.
"Daryl, Michonne, I want you to take Glenn and set up those spike traps," I started, "Tell him to check on the fence for me, will you?" I got up and started walking towards the cells, looking around for two people. I paused in front of one, my eyes peeking in to see if they were there. Maggie noticed me right away and smiled, her jacket buttoned up all the way. Glenn sat up from the bed, his eyes looking tired as he did so. "Hey," I greeted as I stood in the cell entrance, "Glenn, do you mind helping Daryl and Michonne?"
"Sure thing," He responded. He bent down and slipped on his boots before sweetly kissing Maggie and leaving us alone. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my lips at the two. They're so sweet together.
"Maggie, I want you and Carl to kill some of the walkers by the fence. There's a group, and I'm scared they'll knock over the fence." She nodded at me and grabbed her holster before passing me. I let out a sigh and started my search for Carl. Ever since we came back two days ago, he's been quieter. I don't know if he's scared or preparing for what's to come. Either way, Rick and I know he won't have a hand in the fighting. He doesn't need to take part in all that; it'll only be ugly. I climbed the stairs and paused at my cell, checking in on Judith. Carl sat on my bed, his eyes glued to the sleeping baby. I cleared my throat lightly, not wanting to wake her up, and motioned for Carl to join me. He gently rose from his position and approached me, his deep blue eyes on me. "Hey, kiddo."
"June, I'm not a kid anymore." He protested, his voice cracking. In a shocking development, Carl's voice started to get deeper as the days passed. I first noticed the day we returned from our meeting with the Governor. He has his regular voice one minute, and the next, it cracks and deep. Puberty is scary stuff. I sighed heavily and wrapped an arm around him, leading him downstairs.
"Just 'cause you're 13 now doesn't mean you're grown," I teased the boy. I looked down at him to catch the eye roll and frowned. So much has happened this past year, and I don't expect him to be alright. It's too much in such a short amount of time. "Anyway, I would like for you to go down to the field and help Maggie with the walkers at the fence,"
"Why should we care about the walkers by the fence? They're not the ones we should be focusing on," He bit back at me, his tone harsh. I bit the insides of my cheek and pursed my lips, not liking his tone. I stepped away from him and looked down—it wasn't much since he was nearly my height.
"They're pushing on the fence. If that fence falls because of all that weight, we'll have more to worry about than the Governor," I explained to the boy.
"What are you going to be doing?" He questioned me. I flashed him the smallest of smiles and lifted his hat, ruffling his hair. He groaned at me and lightly smacked away my hand, an unamused look on his face.
"I'm going to be in the tower," I sighed, saddened by how cold he was. The boy nodded and walked away from me, his hand grabbing a discarded bullet vest on his way out. Carol watched, her arms wound around her midsection as she stood still. "Take care of Judy for me, please." I smiled at her. She nodded at me and retreated into the cellblock, her baby blues casting one final glance at me as her head turned back.
Sighing, I buttoned my jean jacket and left the common area. The sun was out, but it was still cold. A few clouds floated by in the clear blue sky above us, providing pockets of shade. I looked at the west guard tower and sighed, hating that we were resorting to this. It's one thing to keep an eye out for hoards, but keeping an eye out for dangerous people?
I don't know if I'll ever get used to it. Is it something I don't want to get used to-- always fearing people, still wary of them? I opened the door and climbed the stairs, my lips turning down in a frown as I eyed the sniper rifle perched against the wall. I grabbed it and leaned over the railing with binoculars in hand. Raising them to my eyes, I scoped out the area. The trees blew as the breeze whistled, and the overgrown grass rustled together as walkers aimlessly shambled. Isn't it funny how these things were taken for granted back when the world was okay? Stars up in the sky? Big deal. Trees dancing in the wind? Who cares. But now, these are the moments I look forward to the most. The earth has a lot of beauty, and it's a shame that so many ignored it.
I squatted and extended my legs in front of me as I sat down on the steel of the tower, the binoculars still held up as I continued watching for any suspicious movements. The Governor indirectly admitted to watching us, so where would his goons hide? I scanned the treelines and cursed when I saw nothing, not even an off-color to arouse suspicion. Could they be hiding up in the trees? If so, it'll be damn near impossible to see them with all the leaves. What if they find the breach in the back? Would they be brave enough to attack us like that? I shook my head, answering my question. It would be possible, but with the steady stream of walkers continually coming in, we'll see or hear them before they have a chance.
I was torn out of my thoughts by the sound of the door opening. I looked over, confused and curious about who would visit me. Rick pushed through the door, his eyes glued to the steel floor as he approached me. What does he want? I rose, letting the binoculars hit my chest, and met the man. He looked up at me before quickly tearing away his gaze, his hands finding his hips as he awkwardly stood before me. I didn't say a word, nor did I move. I let him gather his thoughts as he struggled to say what was on his mind.
"I-I messed up," Rick finally said with his lips down in a deep frown. My eyebrows furrowed as I wondered how he could mess up. We aren't doing anything that puts us at great risk, so one mess-up can't be too bad. "June, I messed up bad."
"I'm sure it isn't that bad," I murmured, trying to lift his spirits. He shook his head at me and refused to meet my eyes. "Hey, I'm sure—"
"I met with Daryl and Hershel," Rick began, interrupting me, "I told them that we're going to give up Michonne." I shut my mouth and looked away, the prickles of anger bubbling in my stomach. How can he do this? How can he give her up like that? "I talked to Merle about it. See if he could help us with it."
"Are you—" Rick lifted a hand, stopping me in my tracks before I could yell at him. He shakes his head slightly before hesitantly moving closer to me, his hand still raised.
"I changed my mind," He started again, "I-I realized that I couldn't give her up like that. How would that make us any better than the Governor?"
"But?" I questioned, knowing there was a but involved. He dropped his gaze again and looked at his feet, ashamed of himself probably.
"Merle's gone, and I can't find Michonne anywhere," He practically whispered, "He must have gone off alone to give her up," I couldn't help but roll my eyes. My hands found my face, and I rubbed it as stress consumed me. I thought I knew Rick, thinking he wouldn't dare give her up! And look at him! He did the very thing I was positive he wouldn't do.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" I snapped, my voice coming out harsher and higher than expected. "Why would you even toy with the idea?!"
"I-I messed up," Rick repeated with his head down like a little boy being scolded. I paced, trying to put a cap on my rising anger. He's a stupid man! He drives me absolutely crazy!
"She's family now!" I screamed, noticing that I caught Carl's attention from down below. I huffed and balled my fist, knowing my face turned red from the frustration and anger I had boiling within. "Go," I panted, "Go gather everyone. I want you to tell them about the deal and how you sacrificed Michonne."
I pushed past him and stomped down the steps, breathing in giant puffs as I tried to recompose myself. Carl met me by the door, his eyes looking at me with curiosity. I pushed past him and stalked to the courtyard, seeing that everyone but Daryl was already gathered. I whipped my head around, searching for him, when it dawned on me—if Merle went off on his own, Daryl must be chasing after him. He is his brother, after all. Hershel sat with Beth and Carol—Judith bundled up and in her arms--while Glenn and Maggie stood, smiles across all their faces. I approached them and leaned against the wall, a frown on my face. All their smiles faded instantly as they noticed me, probably wondering what was wrong. Rick walked in with Carl by his side, his blue eyes looking at me sorrowfully. I shook my head and looked away, refusing to look at the man.
"When we met with the Governor, he offered us a deal," Rick began, "He said—he said he would leave us alone if we gave him Michonne." I shook my head, disgusted by his decisions. Disgusted that he thought the Governor would leave us alone. He knew just as much as I did that the psychopath would never leave us alone until we were dead. "And I was gonna do that to keep us safe. I changed my mind. But now Merle went and took Michonne to fulfill the deal, and Daryl went to stop him." He said, his eyes landing on me, almost pleading with me to forgive him. "I don't know if it's too late." He continued looking at me but spoke to the group, "I was wrong not to tell you, and I'm sorry." I uncrossed my arms and looked at him, my bottom lip catching between my teeth as I saw his sorry demeanor.
"What I said last year, that first night after the farm—it can't be like that. It can't." My anger boiled down to a simmer as he shifted on his feet, "What we do, what we're willing to do, what we are, is not my call. It can't be. I couldn't sacrifice one of us for the greater good because we are the greater good. We're the reason why we're still here, not me. This is life and death. How you live—how you die—it isn't up to me. I'm not your Governor. We choose to go. We choose to stay. We stick together. We vote. We can stay and fight, or we can go." Rick turned away, casting one final glance at me before leaving us behind.
"You knew?" Carol asked as she cradled Judith. I understand that Rick wanted to do what he thought was right, but he should've known it wasn't the right call. He should've talked to me instead of trying to hide it from me.
"I knew about the deal he offered," I confirmed, "I didn't like it, and I definitely didn't want to give Michonne up. At least Rick came to his senses, but it was too late," I muttered as I stalked away.
That's why Hershel and Daryl were so secretive earlier; that's why they couldn't spare me a glance. He made his decision; he decided for all of us, and that didn't sit right with me. He knew I would've been against it! He knew I would've stopped him, so he went behind my back. I cursed under my breath and stalked back towards the guard tower. It'll be best to keep a lookout for Daryl and Merle. I slammed open the door and let it close with another slam as I raced up the stairs. I pushed open the door and raised the binoculars to my eyes, hoping all three would return in one piece. A throat cleared next to me, making me groan inwardly. Rick stood there, his hands full as he carried the rifle.
"I'm sorry," He exclaimed, not giving me a chance to ignore him. "I should've told you what I was planning but didn't."
"You didn't come to me 'cause you knew what you were doing was wrong," I scolded. Rick sighed and nodded, his eyes gazing down at our boots as he put the rifle up against the wall, "I can't believe you sometimes," I whispered, "I thought we were in this together, but I guess I'm wrong."
"J-June, we are in this together!" Rick protested, his eyes snapping and staring at me intensely, "You've had my back since I first stepped into camp. You've helped me when everyone was against me, and you've become someone everyone can look to—someone I can look to and know if I'm doing the right thing."
"Then why didn't you depend on me today?" I questioned, feeling somewhat betrayed. "I would've stopped all this before you even had a chance to regret it." I let out a shaky sigh and shook my head, tired of all the back and forth between us lately. The first time was entirely my fault—I buckled under the stress and took it out on him, but now? Now, I'm justified in being peeved off at him.
"I'm sorry," He apologized with a deep-set frown plastered, "I know I messed up." I let out a small groan, knowing that I couldn't stay mad at him for long. Why does he have to smash any resolve that I have? Why can't I stay pissed off at him for once? Because you're head over heels for him, idiot. I swallowed thickly and shoved the little voice to the back of my head.
"Please don't go behind my back like that again," I whispered, feeling my anger shatter. I wrapped my arms around myself and bit my lip, hating the feeling washing over me. What is it? Is it—is it hurt? Am I hurt that he didn't come to me? Yes, you're supposed to be his right-hand man, dumbass! Of course, you're hurt.
"I won't," Rick whispered as he closed the distance between us. His arms circled my waist as he held me to him tightly. I stood on my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him closer to me and burying my head in his shoulder. We stood there for a few moments, knowing I wasn't angry at him anymore and he wasn't in any immediate danger of being socked across the face. "Whew," He let out a breathy chuckle, "I was scared you would hit me." I shook my head and stepped away from him, my arms dropping to my side.
"Nah, I would never hit you," I smiled, "I'll yell at you, but never hit you," Rick smiled at me and looked out to the open field beyond our fence. His face dropped, and he grabbed the rifle. He looked through the scope and tapped me, pointing to the front of the prison. I lifted my binoculars and smiled as I saw Michonne approaching. He didn't do it! But wait, where are the Dixon brothers?
Third-person
The sky started to turn shades of orange, red, and pink when Daryl Dixon finally was within distance of the prison. He felt hollow, empty, as he looked at his bloodstained black jeans. Merle's blood was splattered on his face, but he didn't care enough to clean it off. He'd hoped he would've caught his brother and Michonne in time before anything stupid could've happened, but he was too late. He was always too late. He couldn't save his brother back in Atlanta, and now he couldn't save him from the Governor. It was better when he had thought Merle died back then; it was easier. But he had just gotten his brother back before he was violently ripped away from him. Daryl didn't miss the bullet hole in his brother's chest; he knew as soon as he saw Merle that the Governor had killed him.
Back at the prison, a nervous June stalked the courtyard. Michonne had come home three hours ago, telling Rick and June that Merle had set her free, and Daryl went chasing after him. June's sudden hug took Michonne aback, and she couldn't help but return the gesture as the petite redhead whispered something in Spanish to herself. Michonne made a mental note to ask June what she said and returned to the cellblocks to wash up and rest after her exhausting day.
Rick was stationed in the guard tower, keeping a watchful eye out for his rough friend and occasionally peering at the nervous woman below him. She had been pacing for the past hour, her brown eyes darting past the prison fences, hoping she would see Daryl. Rick knew that he messed up royally today and that June would never forgive him if something happened to Daryl. He also knew he was happy they could make up—he couldn't stand the idea of June being angry with him. He didn't quite understand why it bugged him as much as it did—he never felt this bad when Lori was mad at him, or anyone for that matter. So, why did it bother him so much? Rick let out a soft sigh as he examined the woman; his eyes scanned every inch of her as she continued to pace. He shook his head and frowned, hating that his lust had skyrocketed when Lori hadn't been dead long.
He knew that he was attracted to June; He's known for a while. He felt guilty for crushing on her back at the CDC and downright awful after the farm. His wife was pregnant, and there he was, flirting up a storm with the redhead, but was it lust? Or was it something else altogether? Could he be falling for her? The thought of her made his heart beat wildly in his chest, and he missed her when he was away from her for too long. Could this be love? Almost on cue, something caught his attention in the field beyond their gates. He lifted his rifle and used the scope to get a better view. Lori stood among the walkers and rubbed her pregnant belly, her hazel eyes staring directly at Rick.
"No, no, no," He whispered as he tore his gaze away and brought a shaky hand up to his eyes, "You're not real," He repeated until the hallucination disappeared. Rick looked up to the sky and wondered if this was Lori punishing him from beyond the grave.
June peered outside the fence once more. This time, her heart jumped as she saw a man approaching. On instinct, she ran towards the front gate and pried it open for the man. Daryl entered the prison sullenly, his eyes down at the ground the entire time. He almost didn't notice June until she locked the gate and ran to him, her arm snaking around his arm.
"Daryl?" She questioned, wondering what was on his mind. Daryl turned towards her and frowned, his eyes slightly puffy from crying over his brother. June gasped at his appearance and started looking him over, trying to find any injury. Daryl shook her off and frowned, knowing she would probe him for answers. Instead of saying anything, Daryl wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly, his eyes threatening to fill with tears as he started to mourn. June, taken aback by Daryl's sudden embrace, relaxed and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly as one hand trailed to his head to brush his hair. They didn't need to exchange words for June to understand what was going on with her best friend. Merle hadn't come back with Daryl; that was all that June needed to know that Merle was dead—that and the blood that soaked his clothing. June held Daryl tightly, refusing to let go as she became a shoulder to cry on, something he had done for her so many times in the past. Daryl buried his head in her hair and shuddered—this woman in his arms is family; she's been family from the moment she wrapped him in a chokehold.