Bob Stookey was particularly good at dying. He wasn't leaving this world like Ivan Ilyich, he was leaving this world happy. Rosie was sitting outside the door, curious and listening. She wasn't sure how it would happen.
They left Jim on that hill, tied to that tree. They didn't know how long it took for him to die or how long it took for his body to come back to life. Maybe he was still tied to that tree, struggling against the rope. Or maybe his rotting body broke apart against the force of the rope, and the upper half of his body was body was laying in the grass while the bottom half of his body was still slumped up against the tree. Or maybe someone had come along and put him to rest. Or maybe Jim had done it himself. They wouldn't know.
Jim accepted his death, but not until he went through all five stages of it: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Bob didn't go through all five stages. He just accepted it, as far as Rosie could tell.
Lots of people ask themselves the age old question: Is there any meaning in life that wouldn't be destroyed by the death that inevitably awaits us all? But Bob Stookey wasn't asking that question. He saw things in a simple way. Bob Stookey believed the meaning in life was just to be alive. And he'd done that for a long time, and now it was finally his turn to rest. Bob Stookey was happy to be alive, but he was happy to die, too.
Bob Stookey was wise, Rosie thought. Bob Stookey was sick. Bob Stookey was dying. But Bob Stookey was finding the good out of the bad. Rosie wanted to be like Bob Stookey. But she wasn't. She wanted to live. If she were to be bitten, to have a chunk of her flesh ripped out by the teeth of one of those lifeless monsters, she would be so angry. Perhaps it had to do with her father. She was alive for ten, almost eleven years, but, somehow, she was only alive for one, almost two years. She didn't want to die.
We'll all die, nothin' to be afraid of, Rosie reminded herself.
"They think they're in control. We're in here and they could be anywhere. But we know exactly where they are," Rick's tired, scratchy voice started speaking.
Rosie closed her eyes, still sitting on the ground outside of the door to the back office. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, but she couldn't. Not even if she tried. Nightmares haunted her mind every time she was finally able to drift off, and Daryl wasn't there to say, I'm right here, nothin's gonna happen. And now Terminus, the cannibals, were waiting outside, hunting their next meal, and Bob was dying, and Maggie and Glenn were going to leave, along with Eugene, Rosita, and Abraham, and Carol and Daryl were still missing. How could anyone sleep at a time like this?
"Plan's got stones, I'll give you that," Abraham said. He was sitting on one of the church pews, incredibly incorrectly. His feet were on the seat and he was sitting on the back of it. Rosie didn't mention it, though, because it didn't matter. Nothing but the problems at hand mattered right now.
"Make our move before they do," Glenn agreed, nodding along.
"That's right," Rick said, now nodding, too. "They're not counting on us thinking straight."
"Are we?" Rosita questioned. She was sitting next to Abraham, but she was sitting on the pew somewhat correctly. No one answered her question. "I'm just making sure. It's a big play," she added on.
Rick stood up. He had a crazed sort of look on his face and in his eyes that sort of scared Rosie. She couldn't blame him, though. People were trying to eat his family. "Remember what these people are capable of," Rick reminded them all. Everyone nodded, and Rick turned to Tyreese. "Tyreese."
"Yeah?" Tyreese asked quietly and solemnly.
"You up for this?" Rick asked him sympathetically. Tyreese didn't answer. Rosie heard footsteps coming out of the office, and knew it was Sasha, because, well, it definitely wasn't Bob.
"I'm going with you," Sasha said, standing tall and firm in the doorway.
"You should stay with Bob," Tyreese told her, shaking his head.
Sasha didn't seem to want to hear his input. "No," she snapped, "I want to be out there. I want to be a part of this." She disappeared back into the office, and Tyreese followed her.
Rosie wanted to stay and listen in on what was going to happen in the office, but Maggie's voice stopped her from eavesdropping. "Rosie, come over here. I wanna talk to you," she said from a few feet away. With a sigh, Rosie stood up and went to Maggie, who took her to the back of the room. Maggie sat down on a pew, so Rosie sat down, too. "I know you don't want us to leave," Maggie said.
Frustrated, tired, and overwhelmed, Rosie didn't say anything at all. She only nodded. Of course she didn't want them to go. If they left, then it would be Sasha, Tyreese, Ian, Michonne, Rick, Carl, and Judith, and apparently Gabriel. And that would be it because everyone else left.
"But we have to, honey," Maggie told Rosie, her eyebrows raised. Rosie avoided eye contact. "Daryl and Carol will come back, and then you all will catch up to us. It'll be ok," Maggie said. Still, Rosie wouldn't say anything. "Rosie," Maggie pushed.
"You're all leavin'. What if they don't come back, and they need help, and then you're all gone, and then Daryl and Carol die because you guys all left," Rosie finally said.
"Rosie," Maggie scolded. Rosie huffed and cross her arms. "Look at me." Reluctantly, Rosie did. "Daryl and Carol aren't going to die. They're some of the toughest out of all of us, and they are going to be back."
"Maybe they just left, like you," Rosie spat.
"Daryl wouldn't just leave you, Rosie. You know that. Glenn and I wouldn't, either. We're leavin' because we have to. We need Abraham and Rosita for this, and they wouldn't stay unless we agreed to go. Either way, we're going to get Eugene to Washington, and everything is going to be good again. You'll be safe," Maggie explained, looking into Rosie's blue eyes with a stern sort of seriousness.
Everything is going to be good again my ass, Rosie thought about saying. She didn't, of course, but she wanted to. Everything's gonna be "good again" and I'm gonna get put in foster care or somethin', and I'll be all on my own and I prob'y ain't never gonna see any of you again. But Daryl said not to worry about what was going to happen. He said that it wasn't her job and he would figure it out. But Rosie couldn't help but worry about it.
"Maggie, we need to go," Rick's voice suddenly spoke. Looking up from her shoes, Rosie could see him standing a few feet away. "Stay here, stay quiet, and keep your guard up, alright?" Rick asked, looking back at Rosie.
Sighing once again, Rosie nodded and started heading towards the back office. Everything was dark and all the candles that previously lit up the room had been blown out. There was big desk with a bunch of papers scattered across the top. Bob was laying on the bed, asleep. Tyreese was sitting next to him, a knife in his hand, ready to stick it into Bob's brain if he stopped breathing. Ian was next to Tyreese, fiddling with his shoelaces. Judith was in a basket that was being used as a makeshift basinet. Gabriel was in the corner, a small cross in his hands. Eugene and Rosita were on the floor, leaning back against the wall, and Carl was pacing, his finger tapping against his gun rhythmically.
Rosie went to the desk and sat down on the spinning chair in front of it. Usually, she'd want to spin, but she didn't. She pulled her knees up and sat quietly, waiting and listening. Her eyes scanned over the papers on the desks. There were several drawings of a tree burning. She didn't know what it meant. She'd never gone to church.
Ian got up from his spot next to Tyreese and went towards the desk, too. He leaned up against the wall behind Rosie. Rosie glanced back at him, and he nodded a hello, giving a tight-lipped smile. Rosie didn't say anything, looking back at the desk.
"Are you mad at me?" Ian whispered so quietly that Rosie could barely even hear him. Rosie just shook her head. He was annoying, yeah, but she wasn't mad at him. "Are you just mad in general?" Ian asked, still extremely quiet. Rosie shrugged. "Carol and Daryl are gonna come back."
"Prob'ly," Rosie said, pulling on the sleeves of her shirt.
"They will. Carol's strong, and so's your- so's Daryl," Ian said, coming closer. He brushed a few papers off to the side and sat down on top of the desk.
"You were with Carol," Rosie sort of asked, sort of confirmed.
"Yeah," Ian said, nodding his head a little. "And Tyreese.... And, um, sorry for being nosy, earlier. When we were having a thumb war."
Rosie's eyebrows furrowed and her head quickly turned to look at Ian. He looked genuine. Maybe he was learning how not to be annoying. "It's ok," Rosie finally said.
Ian was about to say more, but a noise was heard from outside of the room. Rosie jumped a little, even though the noise was pretty quiet, and Ian's mouth snapped shut. Carl raised his gun and pointed it at the closed door to the back office, safety off. Rosie took a deep breath, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Well, I guess you know we're here," Gareth's voice rang out. Rosie's heart beat harder, if that was even possible. She then realized she'd left the knife Daryl had given her out on one of the church pews, and she cursed herself. "And we know you're here. And we're armed. So there's really no point in hiding anymore."
Still, no one moved a muscle. If they were all gonna die, they were going out fighting, not surrendering themselves to these cannibalistic assholes. Carl inched closer to the door.
"We've been watching you," Gareth said like it was funny. Rosie hated his voice- the way it was cheery and threatening at the same time. Rosita got up now, too. "We know who's here. There's Bob, unless you've put him out of his misery already. And Eugene. Rosita. Martin's good friend Tyreese. Carl. Ian. Rosie.... Judith," Gareth listed out. Rosie's stomach churned and she looked at Judith, hoping that she would please just stay quiet. "Rick and the rest walked out with a lot of your guns."
Tyreese was up now, too, and he moved in front of the younger kids. Carl stayed off to the side, not moving his aim from the door. Rosie gravitated towards Judith, Ian following after her. She crouched down next to Judith, glancing between the baby and the door.
"Listen, we don't know where you all are, but this isn't a big place. So let's just stop this now, before things get more painful than they need to be," Gareth said. Rosie looked over at Gabriel, and he was the trembling man once again. The door to the office rattled, and Rosita and Carl tensed, still aiming at it. "Look, you're behind one of these two doors and we have more than enough firepower to take down both. Can't imagine that's what you all want."
What we want is to live, Rosie thought. A gun cocked on the other side of the door. It was a warning, in a way. Saying, I'm about to shoot your brains out with this gun that I just cocked.
"How 'bout the priest?" Gareth shouted. Gabriel jumped ever so slightly, still quivering, trembling. "Father, you help us wrap this up, we'll let you walk away from this. Just open the door and you can go. You can take the baby with you. What do you say?"
Gabriel didn't move a muscle or make a sound. He was crying now, but silently.
That's when Judith started to cry. It was a loud, high-pitched baby scream. Rosie quickly turned to Judith, placing her hand on the baby's head and gently petting her hair like she'd seen many other people do before. "Shhh," Rosie was whispering. But their hiding spot had already been given up.
"I don't know. Maybe we'll keep the kid. I'm starting to like this girl," Gareth joked. Rosie picked Judith up out of the basket, holding her close to her chest, like Beth used to. Finally, Judith's cries started to stop, but it was already too late. "It's your last chance right now to tell us you're coming out."
Nothing.
Then, gunshot, thud, gunshot, thud.
"Rick, we'll fire right into that office. So lower your gun-" Gareth began yelling. Gunshot, wail, thud, crying.
There was more talking going on on the other side of the door, but it was too quiet for Rosie to hear, so she just focused on holding Judith. She was much heavier than she used to be, and Rosie wasn't very strong, so she kept having to readjust her in her arms.
Quiet, for a minute or two. Then screams, slashes, thud, thud, thud, thud.
Tyreese got up, opening the door. Rosie peaked out past him. Rick, Michonne, Abraham, and Sasha were killing them all. Mutilating them until they were unrecognizable. Blood splattered and splattered. Then quiet.
"It could have been us," Rick said, his face stained with the blood of the cannibals. Gabriel creeped out the door next, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open as his eyes scanned over his church. Rick came into the office and set his red-handled machete down before taking Judith from Rosie's arms.
Rosie left the office, too, hovering by the doorway. Gabriel stood at the front, in the center, his eyes wet with tears. "This is the Lord's house," he said sadly.
"No," Maggie replied, her voice deep. She looked up from Gareth's dead body to look Gabriel in the eyes. "It's just four walls and a roof."
•
"You'll always be with us. Part of us," Maggie said, a sad smile on her face as she sat on the edge of the couch that Bob was resting on. Rosie stood back, near the door, watching sadly. Bob was still smiling, and Maggie gave his hand a kiss before getting up again. Everyone started to leave the room so Sasha could say her goodbyes.
Before leaving, Rosie caught Bob's eye, and he smiled at her. She smiled back, even though she didn't feel very happy. But the least she could do was smile back at the dying man.
•
Five hours later, Sasha was setting a gravestone for Bob. The sun had finally risen, and the group of people who were going to DC were packing up. Abraham, Rosita, Eugene, Tara, Glenn, and Maggie. All leaving.
Rosie was sitting on the porch steps, watching everyone say their goodbyes. Abraham was in front of Rick, handing him a piece of paper. Rosie couldn't tell what it was. "This is our route to DC. We'll stick to it as long as we're able. If not, well, you got our destination. Once Eugene gets to the big brains left up there, things are gonna bounce back. This group should be there for it. You should be there for it," Abraham said.
"They will be," Maggie said, nodding.
"We will," Michonne confirmed.
"We will," Rick agreed, a small smile forming on his face.
With that, Abraham nodded and made his way to the church bus. "Let's go," he said.
For the second time in those 24 hours, Rosie gave Eugene a small wave goodbye, and he nodded in return. "Maybe when things go back to normal, and I grow up, I could still be a paleontologist," Rosie said, trying to find the good out of the bad.
Her hope was for her statement to make Eugene a little happier seeming, but he just looked sad. "Possibly," he agreed with another nod before climbing into the church bus, Rosita following after him.
Next, it was time to say goodbye to Glenn and Maggie. The two of them crouched down in front of where Rosie was sitting on the steps. They both smiled, but Rosie didn't. "We'll see you soon," Maggie said, putting her hand on Rosie's knee.
"Maybe," Rosie said.
"We will," Glenn told her, giving a firm nod. He ruffled her hair before standing back up.
And then they were on the bus. And then they were waving, giving sad smiles out the window. And then the doors closed. And then the bus drove away, leaving a cloud of dirt behind it. And then Rosie frowned.
•
It was night all over again, and the moon was bright- a perfect circle in the dark sky. Rosie was, once again, sitting on a church pew with her knees pulled up to her chest. Daryl and Carol were still gone. Rosie was sure that they weren't coming back. Ian, however, was sure that they were. So he was easily able to fall asleep, laying down on one of the pews.
But Rosie still couldn't. Her head was throbbing, and her eyes burned, and she was so tired. But she couldn't sleep. Not even the comfort of knowing that Michonne was out on the steps, keeping watch made her feel better. She wanted Daryl.
Stop bein' such a baby about it, Rosie kept telling herself. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. She was so frustrated, with herself, and with Daryl. He said he wouldn't leave, and now he left.
He's comin' back.
She dropped her feet to the ground and began bouncing her leg. She wanted the night to pass, so everyone else would be awake, too.
"Are you ok?" Gabriel suddenly asked quietly. Rosie jumped a little, thinking he was asleep, but she nodded. "I can't sleep either. I'm going to get some fresh air," Gabriel said before getting up and leaving out the front doors.
Waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting. Rosie started to count. One, two, three, four, five.... Her head tilted back, and she stared up at the tall ceilings. She hated this church, she decided. She hated it and she wanted to go back to the prison. She wanted her backpack and her crocodile shirt and all of her other dinosaurs and her books and her drawings. But they were probably all gone now, anyway. Destroyed by the Governor.
The door to the church opened again, and it was Gabriel. "Rosie," he whisper-shouted. Rosie turned to look at him. He waved his arm towards himself, silently saying, come here.
Albeit reluctantly, Rosie dragged herself up off of the pew and towards the door. When she slipped out the front doors, she first saw Michonne's back. She was looking towards the trees, so Rosie did, too.
Standing there, by the tree line, was Daryl, next to a stranger. So quickly that it was almost a run, Rosie marched towards Daryl. When she reached him, Daryl placed his hand on her back, thinking she was going for a hug, but instead, Rosie put her hands on his stomach and tried to push him back, hard. He didn't even stumble back.
"Don't fuckin' push me," Daryl said, grabbing onto one of her arms to stop her from trying it again.
"You did it again!" Rosie growled out, her teeth clenched together hard and her hands balled into fists at her sides.
"I know, I know. And I'm sorry," Daryl said. Rosie was still angry. He said he was sorry last time, and then he did it again. "I had to. I'll explain, just..." he trailed off, catching his breath a little bit. He pulled her towards him, and after a moment of still being angry, Rosie finally hugged him.
"I thought you were dead," Rosie said frustratedly, her eyes squeezed shut as she leaned her head against Daryl's abdomen. "Again."
"I was tryin' to find Beth," Daryl said, his hand rubbing her back a little.
Rosie pulled away, looking up at him less angrily now. "Did ya find her?" she asked.
"Yeah. Carol's with her. We're gonna get 'em back," Daryl assured Rosie, squeezing her shoulder a little.
Looking past Daryl, Rosie eyed the stranger wearily. It was another man boy. "Who's that?" she asked.
"I'm Noah," the stranger said.
•
After giving a good enough explanation of what had happened, Daryl, Rosie, Gabriel, and Noah all went into the church while Michonne stayed outside to keep watch. It was decided that they would figure out what to do in the morning. They all needed sleep.
With an exhausted sigh, Daryl slumped down on one the pews in the back row, closing his eyes and stretching his arm out across the back of the pew. Rosie sat down next to him and pulled her knees up to her chest again. Neither of them said anything.
Half an hour later, Daryl was sitting there on that church pew, his arm still stretched out across the top, but now Rosie had fallen asleep. In her sleep, she had gradually moved to lay down on the pew, because sleeping sitting up is less than ideal. Eventually, she was laying down across the pew and her head was resting on Daryl's leg. Finally, finally, she was able to sleep again. She was out cold.
Suddenly, Rosie started to stir and her eyebrows furrowed in her sleep. Unsure of what else to do, Daryl put his hand on the top of her head, moving his thumb back and forth. "Right here, kid," he said quietly. Luckily, Rosie didn't wake up, and she was able to move on from whatever nightmare that was infecting her dreams. She stopped squirming, but her eyebrows were still furrowed. And as Daryl looked down at her sleeping face, his mind started to wander. It wandered away from Terminus and Bob and Carol and Beth and Noah and the hospital and all of the important things that he should have been thinking about. Instead, his mind wandered to some alternate universe.
In this alternate universe, he was at a hospital, holding a baby with big, blue eyes. The baby was dressed in a white onesie and had a blanket with a small dinosaur pattern on it wrapped around her tiny body. The baby was sleeping.
Then he was sitting on the ground, his legs crossed. The baby was bigger now. She had blonde, messy hair and a wide smile on her face. She pushed herself up off of the ground, taking a moment to balance herself. She started taking careful steps towards him, each step saving her from falling flat on her face. Her pace quickened- she was losing her balance. His arms reached out. "Woah, woah, woah, woah," the baby kept saying after every step she took. She got close enough to be able to fall into him, her tiny arms holding onto his shoulders.
Now he was outside, in the road. He was holding onto the handlebars of a small, red bicycle. A girl was on the bike. Small, blonde, nervous. He couldn't see her face very well, only her side profile. He ran along with the bike as the girl peddled. He let go, and she kept peddling, her blonde hair blowing in the wind behind her. He ran along with her. She was smiling, shouting something. "I'm doin' it!"
Then he was sitting in his old truck, waiting in what seemed like a never ending line that wrapped around the side of an elementary school. He glanced at the clock, checking how many minutes away from 3:25 PM it was. Three minutes away.
Then he was at a restaurant. A diner, maybe. He was sitting at a booth, and across from him was a girl who looked like Rosie, but she was smaller and her cheeks were rounder. The girl dug into a pancake that was topped with a smiley face drawn in whipped cream.
He was at a museum. Someone was pulling on his hand. He looked down and it was the little girl from the diner. Rosie, but smaller. Littler. The girl pulled him, taking jumps instead of steps, until they were stood in front of a large fossil of a dinosaur head. The girl pointed up at it, smiling widely. She looked back at him. "That's a Torosaurus," she said. "People always think they're triceratops, but they aren't."
He was at a baseball field. It was shitty. Weeds were growing in the sand. The grass was overgrown. A boy stood at home plate with a bat raised above his right shoulder. A girl crouched down behind the plate, her long blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail, almost blocking the big number 7 on her back. She held her glove up, ready.
He was sitting on a brown couch in a house he didn't recognize. A TV was across from him. It was playing an animated movie. Old, maybe from the forties. A rabbit was on the screen. It was thumping its foot against the ground. A deer was there, too. The volume was low. There was a weight against his side. He looked down, to his left. Tucked between his arm and his side was the girl, her eyes closed. Her shoulders rose and fell steadily.
He was laying in a big bed, half asleep. The door to the bedroom flung open. The girl came running into the room. She jumped onto the bed, smiling. She had a paper in her hand. She held it up in front of her. "Look what I drew," she said. He did. It was a dinosaur. He wasn't sure what the dinosaur was called. There were letters at the bottom of the page. Maybe it had the name of the dinosaur. He read it.
Brachiosaurus
Rosie D.
He was in a store. The girl was in front of him. She was holding up a grey shirt. There was a crocodile printed on the front. "Please can I get it?" Her blue eyes were wide. She was using that trick. It was working.
She was sleeping. Her head was resting on his leg. He was looking down at her sleeping face. She was still small, but not so small. She was still young, but not so young. His free hand tucked a stray piece of hair out of her face. This time, he wasn't imagining. She was there, and she was his, but at the same time she wasn't. Because she wasn't Rosie D., she was Rosie B., which meant that she had all the memories and all the scars that came from that B., and Daryl couldn't take those away, no matter how badly he wished he could.
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It was an intense chapter so i thought I might as well give you some happy thoughts at the end of it. You're welcome