"Mister," Rosie said. Of course, she knew Abraham's name, but some people liked to be called mister anyway, so she decided to call him mister first, just in case. She didn't want to be rude.
Abraham looked back at the small girl. "What?" he asked.
"Were you in the army?" Rosie asked him. He really looked like someone who would be in the army. He sounded like one, too. He said klicks instead of kilometers, and he used swear words in a funny way. Plus, he walked like a guy who would be in the military.
"Yes," Abraham replied. He looked away and kept walking, thinking the conversation was over. But Rosie quickened her pace in order to be walking next to him rather than behind him, because the conversation was not over.
"Were you called sergeant?" Rosie asked him, her eyebrows raised a little.
"Yes, I sure as shit was," Abraham said, sounding somewhat proud of himself.
"Did ya know I was gonna be in the army?" Rosie asked him. Abraham didn't say anything. "I was gonna be in the MLB first, but then my daddy told me girls can't be in the MLB, so then I was gonna be a paleontologist, but then my daddy told me that takes too much college and college costs too much money, so then I just decided I'd be in the army."
"Interesting," Abraham said. He didn't seem very interested, though. He was too busy watching Michonne take out a walker. So, Rosie decided to talk to the woman with pigtails in her hair.
"Hey, Miss," Rosie said. The woman glanced at her, confused looking. She wasn't sure if Rosie was talking to her or someone else. But when she saw Rosie looking right at her, she knew that she was, in fact, talking to her. "What's your name?" Rosie asked.
"Rosita," the woman replied.
"My name's kinda close to yours. Mine's Rosie," Rosie told her. But before Rosita could provide any sort of response, Rosie was pulled away by the back of her shirt. Looking behind her, Rosie could see that it was Daryl who was pulling her. She furrowed her eyebrows. "What?" she asked.
"Quit botherin' them," Daryl told her. Rosie wanted to roll her eyes, but she knew Daryl didn't like it when she did that, so she didn't. "You wanna talk to someone, go talk to that boy," Daryl said. Rosie watched as he nodded his head towards where Ian was walking, behind Tyreese.
"Why?" she asked.
"'Cause he's your friend," Daryl said.
"He ain't my friend. He's annoyin'."
"He's dyin' to talk to ya," Daryl told her. Rosie just crossed her arms, not making any move to go and talk to Ian. "You don't wanna talk to him, fine. I don't give a shit. Just don't go botherin' people who don't wanna talk. They ain't in the mood for that." After that, Daryl expected her to go off and either talk to Ian or Carl, but she didn't. She stayed walking quietly by his side. And they all went on like that for a long time.
•
They walked and walked until the sun went down and the stars came out. Rosie was laying on the ground, near the dying embers of the fire. She looked up at the stars, trying and failing to fall asleep. She had to pee really bad, and Maggie was usually the one she'd go to, because she wasn't allowed to go off on her own. But Maggie was already fast asleep and Rosie did not want to wake her up. Rosie sat up and looked around to see who was still awake, but from the looks of it, everyone was asleep. She huffed and stood up, contemplating whether or not to just go on her own. But then she remembered that Carol and Daryl were awake, on watch.
Carefully and quietly, Rosie stepped around the sleeping bodies and went off to where she knew Carol and Daryl would be. And, just as she expected, there they were, sitting on a log next to each other. The two of them obviously heard her coming, because their heads turned to her quickly. They calmed down right when they saw that it was her, though.
"What're you doin' up?" Daryl asked as Rosie came closer.
"I gotta pee," she said, bouncing on her toes impatiently.
Just as Daryl was about to reply, there was a rustling in the leaves. Rosie turned around quickly, looking into the woods. It was quiet for another second, and then a twig snapped. Daryl stood up quickly, his crossbow in hand as he walked closer to the trees. Carol got up with him, a gun in her hand, while Rosie stayed behind Daryl, peeking out from behind his back. Daryl held his pointer finger up, telling them to stay still and be quiet, so that's what they did. He waited for a few more moments, watching and listening, but nothing happened.
"It's nothin'," he said, dropping his hand back down to his side. Even though he said it was nothing, he stayed there for a few more moments. Still, nothing happened, so he turned back to Rosie. "Maggie sleepin'?" he asked. Rosie nodded, bouncing on her toes again. "Carol'll take ya," Daryl said.
Rosie turned to Carol, and Carol was looking at Daryl. After a moment, Carol looked off towards the woods and started walking. "Come on," she said, giving Rosie a weird smile. It wasn't weird because it was funny or creepy, it was weird because it seemed fake or uncomfortable. Rosie tried to ignore it.
After a minute of walking into the woods, Carol stopped and started keeping watch while Rosie went behind a tree and did her business. When she was done, Rosie stepped back around to the other side of the tree, next to Carol. Carol did her weird smile again and started walking.
"Why're you doin' that?" Rosie asked as they walked.
"Doing what?" Carol asked.
"Smilin' like that," Rosie said. She looked up at Carol, but Carol didn't say anything. Rosie looked at her red cowboy boots for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed. "Are ya mad at me?" she asked.
Carol stopped and sighed, putting her hand up to her face for a moment. She turned to Rosie. "No, I'm not mad at you, Rosie. Things have just been... hard. I'm sorry," Carol said. Only she knew she was apologizing for much more than her fake smiles.
Rosie still felt confused, but she didn't push any further. She thought it might've had something to do with Lizzie and Mika, so she just stayed quiet.
•
"Daryl?" Rosie said. It was early in the morning, and Rosie couldn't sleep, so she had spent a lot of time trying to convince Daryl to let her come hunting with him. It took a little while, but it worked in the end, because here she was, following behind him as they went hunting in the woods. Daryl had already caught four squirrels. Rosie hadn't caught any; she still didn't have a weapon- or a belt, for that matter. "Can I try usin' your crossbow?" she asked. She'd asked this several times before, and he always said no, but she thought maybe he'd say yes this time because she didn't have anything else to use.
"Nah, you're too small. Use your..." Daryl trailed off and his eyebrows furrowed. He looked back at Rosie, looking for a weapon in her hands. There wasn't one, obviously, because she didn't have one. "You don't have nothin'," he said. Rosie nodded, and Daryl sighed. "Shit. Why the hell didn't ya say anythin'?"
Rosie shrugged. "Thought ya knew," she said.
"Can't be out here without a weapon. Ever," Daryl said sternly. He pulled a knife out of the sheath on his belt and handed it to her, handle first. "When you need somethin', ya gotta tell someone. I can't read yer mind."
"Ok. I need a belt," Rosie told him.
"We'll be gettin' on the road soon. There'll prob'ly be somethin' you can use in a shop or anythin' we pass by," Daryl said. Rosie nodded and they kept on walking. She kept looking over at him, though, eyeing his crossbow. They went on like that for awhile; Daryl ignoring Rosie as she silently begged for him to let her try the crossbow.
After maybe ten minutes, it was clear that her longing glances at the crossbow weren't doing the trick, so Rosie would have to try something else. "Daryl," she said.
"No," Daryl said before she could even ask.
"I don't got my slingshot anymore. I just wanna try it," Rosie tried to convince him. It still didn't seem to be working. "Just one time."
"You're too lil'," Daryl told her, shaking his head.
"I ain't little," Rosie insisted, even though she knew that that wasn't true.
"You're not even double the size of the thing," Daryl said with a scoff that sounded sort of like a laugh.
"Please?" Rosie asked one more time. Daryl looked at her and she made her eyes extra wide, which was a trick that usually worked with Fraser, and sometimes even Coach Smith. She had very little confidence in her wide eyes' ability to make Daryl change his mind, but she thought it was at least worth a shot.
After a few moments, Daryl let out a big huff. He took the knife back from Rosie and went towards one of the trees. Rosie watched with confusion as he carved an X into the tree bark. When he came back over to her, he shoved the knife into the sheath on his belt and pulled his crossbow off of his shoulder. That was when Rosie finally understood that her trick had worked.
Daryl put a hand on Rosie's shoulder and moved her into the exact place he wanted her; right across from the tree. He knelt down next to her, helping her hold up the big crossbow with one hand, and using his other hand to straighten her posture and fix her stance. Slowly and carefully, Rosie lined the shot up. It was killing Daryl not to move the crossbow up just the tiniest bit so that she would actually hit the X, but he held back because if he didn't let her do it on her own, she'd just want to do it again. So, he quietly watched as Rosie pulled the trigger. The string flung the bolt towards the tree and it hit just below the X.
A small smile grew across Rosie's face. "I did it!" she said. She let the crossbow lower. "Almost," she said.
"Ya did good," Daryl said, patting her on the back. He was about to take the crossbow back, but Rosie stopped him.
"Can I try one more time?" she asked. She did her wide eyes trick again, because now she knew that it would work. "Please?" she said. Daryl rolled his eyes, but let her try again. This time, he just kept a few fingers on the bottom of the crossbow, holding some of the weight to make it easier for her, but he didn't adjust her stance or her posture, simply because she was a quick learner and was already standing the right way.
Daryl was knelt down behind her, watching her aim the thing. It reminded Rosie of when she'd go out shooting with her daddy. He'd kneel down next to her and watch her aim, just like Daryl was doing. Except, when she missed, her dad would get really annoyed about it. I'm sorry, Rosie would say, I'm tryin'. But her daddy would just tell her to try harder, 'cause she wasn't tryin' hard 'nough. Suddenly, Rosie's stomach started to hurt. She tried to stop thinking about her dad, but it wasn't working.
When Rosie pulled the trigger, the bolt landed just a little less than an inch below the X. Daryl patted her on the back again, but she didn't smile or cheer for herself this time. She just handed the crossbow back to Daryl and they kept on walking, which Daryl thought was weird, but he didn't say anything about it, hoping that Rosie would just tell him. Luckily, after a few minutes, she did.
"Daryl?" Rosie said, looking up at him.
"Hm?" Daryl hummed out with a questioning tone.
Rosie's eyebrows were knitted together and she kicked at the dirt as they went along. "'Member when ya said you were an asshole 'til ya got me?" she asked Daryl.
He glanced down at her, seeing that she was already looking up at him, and nodded. Yes, I remember, Daryl thought to himself. That was the day after I left you and walked away listenin' to you cry and cry and cry so much it made my chest hurt.
"Why do ya think that didn't work with my daddy?" Rosie asked him. Her eyes were wide again, but it wasn't because she was trying to do her trick; she didn't mean for them to be wide this time.
Daryl looked down at her again, suddenly feeling sad. He didn't know what to tell her.
"'Cause..." Rosie started, and then looked down at her boots. She felt tears pricking at her eyes, but she didn't want Daryl to see because this was a stupid reason to be crying. "'Cause I tried to be good an' do what he said, but he still... he still didn't like me." Her voice was shaky, but she tried to keep it still. Don't care, she told herself, it doesn't matter.
"Hey," Daryl said. He stopped walking and put a hand on Rosie's shoulder to stop her from walking, too. She kept staring at her shoes, though, so he tapped her chin. Rosie looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to pretend like it didn't matter. "Some people just ain't meant to be parents. And you're dad was one of 'em. That ain't your fault," Daryl told her. Rosie nodded and looked back down. It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter. "Why're you thinkin' 'bout him?" Daryl asked.
Rosie shrugged. She knew why she'd been thinking about her dad so much lately, though. She'd been thinking about him since she got sick at the prison. Since she talked to Lizzie. She kept thinking about him and she couldn't stop.
"Why? That boy ask 'bout him or somethin'?" Daryl pushed, nudging her shoulder to try and get her to look at him again. She didn't.
"No," Rosie said, shaking her head. She cursed herself silently. She should've just said yes, so then it'd be over with. But no. She told the truth. Stupid.
"Then what? Ya haven't asked 'bout him since we got to the prison," Daryl said. He wasn't sure if that was an exaggeration or not, but he didn't bother to correct himself because, either way, it didn't matter. He just wanted to know why Rosie was thinking about him. She didn't say anything, though. "Ro," he said, pushing her to answer.
After a small sigh, Rosie started pulling on the end of her shirt as she began talking. "Did ya know the kids at the prison thought you were my daddy?" she mumbled out. Daryl didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. No, I didn't know that, maybe? Nope. That didn't sound right. Daryl's silence only encouraged Rosie to go on. "I thought it was weird. But sometimes I wish ya were. 'Cause I don't think my daddy liked me very much, but you do. I think," she said. Her face burned with embarrassment and she wanted to run and hide, but she didn't.
"Your dad was an asshole and a dumbass," Daryl said. He was about to go on, but then a leaf crunched, and both Rosie's and Daryl's heads snapped in the direction of the sound. It was another squirrel. Daryl lifted his crossbow and in one second, aimed it perfectly. The bolt went right through the squirrel. Rosie wished that she was that good at something. Daryl picked up the squirrel and added it to the rope that was slung over his shoulder. Then he continued on walking, and Rosie walked behind him. "He was a dumbass 'cause you're a good kid. Ain't nothin' not to like 'bout ya. 'Cept that you keep losin' every belt I find for ya," Daryl said.
Even though tears were still burning at her eyes, Rosie managed to laugh at that. Her arms reached up and she used the backs of her hands to wipe her eyes dry. "I'm not losin' 'em on purpose," she defended.
Before Daryl could reply, he stepped out from behind a tree and froze for a moment, the sounds of guns cocking stopping him. Rosie froze, too. But not for long, because it was only their own group. "We surrender," Daryl joked, holding his hands up. Rick almost smiled a little at Daryl's joke before walking on. Daryl walked with him, and Rosie walked a few steps behind the two of them. "No tracks. No nothin'," Daryl said quietly to Rick.
What's he talkin' about? Rosie wondered.
"So whatever you heard last night..." Rick said. Oh, that's what he was talkin' about.
"It's more what I felt. If someone was watchin' us, there would've been somethin'," Daryl said. Rosie's stomach churned at the thought of someone watching them all. But if Daryl didn't find any tracks, then it probably was nothing.
They continued on walking for awhile. Rosie wondered when they were going to cook up those squirrels, because she was really hungry. She hoped it was soon.
"Help!" a loud, distant voice shouted into the thick, morning air. Rosie looked back at Rick, and he was holding his hand up to say don't do anything. "Help, anybody! Help!" the voice called again. Rosie felt someone bump her shoulder, and she looked over to see Daryl holding out the knife he had given her earlier. She took it and held it in her right hand.
"Dad, come on," Carl said urgently, looking back at his dad with wide, blue eyes. He wasn't trying to do the trick, he was just worried for the person screaming. Rick didn't move, though. "Come on!" Carl pleaded, waving his arm towards the screaming. "Come on!"
A second later, they were all running towards the screaming person. Rosie wasn't too sure about this idea, but she also didn't want the screaming person to die, so she went along anyway. Not like she had a choice, after all.
They all ran up to a large rock. A man dressed in all black was on top of it, and walkers were clawing at his feet from every angle. Carl didn't hesitate to fire his gun at one of the walkers' heads. It dropped dead to the ground. Rick smashed one head into the rock, Michonne bashed one skull in with the end of her gun, and Carol stuck a knife into one skull. Another one came stumbling up behind Carol, and Carol hadn't noticed, so Rosie kicked the back of its knees and stuck her knife into the side of its head. Then everything seemed quiet, except for the loud breathing of the trembling man on top of the rock.
"We're clear. Keep watch," Rick said. Rosie looked up at the trembling man. He had thick, black clothes on, and she had no idea how he wasn't dying from heat exhaustion. He also had some weird, white thing on the collar of his shirt. "Come on down," Rick said.
Slowly and hesitantly, the trembling man slid down from the big rock, his shoes crunching on the leaves. Rosie looked down at his shoes. They were fancy ones. Why was he wearing such fancy clothes?
"You ok?" Rick asked the trembling man.
The trembling man held up his finger and then turned to the side. He bent down and started puking. A lot. Rosie scrunched her face up, turning away. The sound of the vomiting still made her feel sick, though.
"Sorry," the trembling man breathed out once he was done puking. Rosie looked back now, but very carefully avoided looking at the ground beneath his feet. "Yes. Thank you. I'm Gabriel," the trembling man said.
"Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick asked.
Gabriel laughed a little, but he seemed more scared than happy. "Do I look like I would have any weapons?" he asked. Rosie thought that was a stupid question because no one looked like they would have any weapons anymore, people just did.
"We don't give two short and curlies what it looks like," Abraham said. Rosie liked when he said weird things like that. She had no idea what short and curlies meant, but it was funny either way.
"I have no weapons of any kind," Gabriel said. "The word of God is the only protection I need."
Rosie scrunched her face up. He's kidding, right?
"Sure didn't look like it," Daryl said.
A smile grew on Gabriel's face. "I called for help. Help came," he said, all happy like God really was the one who sent help. In reality, it was Carl who made the choice to help him. At least, that's how Rosie saw it. Everyone stared at Gabriel for a moment. Gabriel stared back.
"Why're you wearin' that?" Rosie asked, breaking the deafening silence.
"I'm a priest," Gabriel answered, all proud of himself. Rosie looked up at Daryl with her eyebrows pinched together, but he was too busy staring at Gabriel to notice her questioning look. "Do you have any food?" Gabriel then asked, looking at Rick again. "Whatever I had left... it just hit the ground."
"We've got some pecans," Carl said, holding his hand out to Gabriel.
Gabriel took the pecans gratefully. "Thank you," he said. Then Judith, who was in Tyreese's arms, started making her baby noises, which Rosie had come to miss since she left the prison all on her own. "That's a beautiful child," Gabriel said with another smile. Rosie glared at him. She didn't like his comment, for whatever reason. Rick didn't seem to like it either. He kept glaring. "Do you have a camp?"
"No. Do you?" Rick asked.
"I have a church," Gabriel answered.
"Hold your hands above your head," Rick said so quickly that he almost interrupted the priest. Gabriel complied hesitantly. Rick started patting him down, just like the cop he used to be. "How many walkers have you killed?"
"Not any, actually," Gabriel said, laughing nervously.
"Turn around." Gabriel did. "How many people have you killed?"
"None," Gabriel answered. He seemed appalled by the question.
"Why?" Rick asked him.
Gabriel seemed even more appalled at this question. "Because the Lord abhors violence," he said, a concerned look on his face. Rosie wanted to scoff or roll her eyes, but she didn't because that always annoyed Daryl, even if it wasn't directed at him.
Rick leaned in close, lowering his voice. "What have you done?" he asked, low. Gabriel looked terrified. "We've all done something," Rick told him.
"I'm a sinner. I sin almost every day. But those sins, I confess them to God, not strangers," Gabriel said.
"You said you had a church?" Michonne asked, changing the subject. Gabriel nodded.
🦖🦕🦖🦕
Guys today my dad told me that when I was really little, they had to take me to a therapist because I couldn't stop counting things and it was making me cry 😭 wtf