Ada

⋆˚ʚɞ

I sat in my cell, presumably sleeping, but really I was eavesdropping on the arguments outside. First, it was my brother on bed rest, but somehow, now it's me. I am under strict instruction to rest, and not think about what happened today. But that's easier said than done. It's the only thing I can think about. Luckily, Daryl had come back, but he brought his brother with him.

"We're not leaving." Rick has stood his ground thus far.

"We can't stay here." Hershel has also made his point.

"If there's another sniper, those wood pallets won't stop those rounds," Maggie states.

"We can't even go outside," Beth says.

"Not in the daylight," Carol adds.

"If Rick says we're not running, we're not running." Glenn defends.

"Nope. Better to live like rats." Daryl's brother, Merle, quips at them.

"You got a better idea?" Rick asks, sounding annoyed.

"We should have slid out of here last night, and lived to see another day."

He's very pessimistic, but I hate to admit that I think he's right. I'm terrified of this 'governor'. I hate to flee, to take the cowardly way out. But this far into our fights, he's always won. I feel like it isn't worth it anymore.

"I'm sure he's got scouts on every road by now." Merle states.

"We ain't scared of that prick," Daryl says to his brother.

"Ya'll should be," Merle says. "That truck through the fence thing, that's just him ringing the doorbell. We might have thick walls to hide behind, but he's got the guns and the numbers. He could just starve us out if he wanted to."

I sigh, not wanting to hear any more of this conversation. I turn onto my stomach and pull my pillow over my head, drowning out their voices.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"I told my dad he shouldn't be our leader anymore," Carl says to me that night in my cell.

I was lying down looking up at him from where he stood. "How come?" I asked him.

"It's hurting him too much." He says. "I don't want to see him tire himself out you know?"

"I get it." I agree with him. "It's all so much for one person to bear."

"Was he angry?" I ask him.

"I don't think so." He answers. "I hope not."

"Me too."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

I slept most of the day away. It was early in the evening when I finally woke up.

"G'mornin', sleepyhead." My brother says from beside me.

"Mornin'." I say, yawning.

"Feeling hungry, or anything?" He asks me.

"No thanks." I haven't had an appetite since the shooting. Maybe it's the nerves.

"Okay." He stands up and holds his hand out for me to take. "How about getting out of this cell for a little bit? You're not gonna feel much better if you lay in bed all day." He reasons.

I take his hand hesitantly. "Okay."

We walked together into the other room where most of the group was sitting down silently. Everyone is on edge over the past couple of days.

Before we could say anything, Carl came running in from the tombs, telling us a woman named 'Andrea' was here.

Andrea, I had heard of from Carl. She was a part of their group before they came to the prison, and she knew Michonne.

The others ran outside, I attempted to follow but my brother pulled me back. "What are you doing?" He asks.

"I'm going with them," I state.

"Nope. No way. You stay inside." He shakes his head. "Just because you're off bedrest doesn't mean you can leave this area. Stay put."

Before I could say anything else, he jogged out of the room leaving me alone and irritated.

Around 10 minutes later, I sat at a table, awaiting the group's return. I heard footsteps quickly approaching, so I stood up suddenly. Rick walked into the room, with another woman, Andrea I assume.

Andrea says her greetings, leaving the old friends to reunite. "I can't believe this." She says, looking around at everybody. "Where's Shane?"

Carl had also told me about Shane, and the way Shane had died by Rick's hand.

Rick only shook his head at her, the silence of the group was answer enough.

"And Lori?" Andrea asked.

"She had a girl. Lori didn't survive." Hershel answered.

"Neither did T-dog," Maggie says.

"I'm so sorry." Andrea began and then looked towards Carl shaking her head softly. She then turned back to Rick, with a look of bewilderment on her face. "Rick-I-." She stopped herself. "You all live here?" She asked.

"Here and the cell block," Glenn answered.

"Can I go in?" She asked walking towards the cell block door.

"I won't allow that." Rick jumps in stepping in front of her.

"I'm not the enemy, Rick." She says.

"We had that field and courtyard until your boyfriend tore down the fence with a truck and shot us up," Rick informs her.

"He said you fired first," Andrea says, her lack of information evident in her words.

"Well, he's lying," Rick says blankly.

"He killed an inmate who survived in here," Hershel says.

"We liked him he was one of us," Daryl says.

"I don't know anything about that. As soon as I found out I came." She turns around looking at everyone. "I didn't even know you were in Woodbury until after the shoot-out."

"That was days ago," Glenn states.

"I told you I came as soon as I could." She then turns to confront Michonne. "What have you told them?" She asks her.

"Nothing," Michonne says calmly.

Andrea turns back to the rest of the group. "I don't get it. I left Atlanta with you people and now I'm the odd-man out?"

"He almost killed Michonne, and he would have killed us," Glenn says to her.

"With his finger on the trigger." Andrea points at Merle. "Isn't he the one who kidnapped you? Who beat you?" She calms herself down for a moment. "I cannot excuse or explain what Philip has done, but I am here trying to bring us all together. We have to work this out."

"There's nothing to work out. We're gonna kill him." Rick states unwilling to back down. "I don't know how or when, but we will."

"We have to settle this," Andrea says, desperate to reason with the man. "There is room at Woodbury for all of you."

Maybe it's the optimist still alive in me, but I can't help but agree with her. Rick has done alright by me and my brother. I've just never been one to condone killing, especially if it's purely for revenge.

"You know better than that," Merle says to her, but it feels oddly targeted at my private thoughts. I won't take it to heart.

"What makes you think this man wants to negotiate? Did he say that?" Hershel asks Andrea.

"No," Is all she says.

"Then why did you come here?" Rick asks demandingly.

"Because he's gearing up for war. The people are terrified. They see you as killers." She informs the group. "They're planning to attack."

"I'll tell you what, next time you see Philip, tell him I'm gonna take out his other eye." Daryl threatens.

Now that I could agree with.

"We've taken his shit for too long," Glenn says. "He wants a war, he's got one."

Andrea turns back to Rick one last time. "Rick." She begins. "If you don't sit down and try to work this out, I don't know what's gonna happen. He has a whole town, and look at you, you've lost so much already. You can't stand alone anymore."

"You want to make this right, get us inside." Rick continues to ignore her pleas.

"No," Andrea says.

"Then we've got nothing to talk about," Rick says turning to walk away from her.

"There are innocent people," Andrea yells after him to no avail as the cellblock door opens and slams shut behind him.

Everyone begins to clear out of the room, and not wanting to be around any more arguments, I walk into the cellblock after Rick, and into my cell.

If I sleep more maybe all of these problems will be solved overnight.

But my dreams are just dreams.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

I jolt awake in the early morning, drenched in sweat. My brother sits on a chair next to me once again, with a book in his hand.

He looked up at me as I was now sitting up, breathing heavily.

"Everything okay?" He asks softly.

"Yeah," I tell him, and myself. "Scared myself awake, I guess." I laugh it off as I wipe the sweat from my forehead.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" I asked him, as I couldn't remember him coming into the cell.

"A little. I was mostly keeping an eye on you." He laughs. "Andrea left yesterday after you came in here. You've been asleep for like 12 hours." He grins.

"I have a lot of sleep to catch up on." I joke.

"So do I." He laughs before his face gets serious again. "I was thinking about Jane and Mom." He begins.

I look at him, interested. "When this is all over, and we're safe again, I wanna look for them, and I want you to help me. I want them to live here with us."

"You want me to help?" I question him.

"Yeah. I want you to help me outside, and fight. Whether you like it or not, you need to learn how to shoot better." He leans closer to me. "I want you to be able to protect yourself when I'm not with you. When nobody else is with you."

"Okay." I agree with him, though I can't stop the feeling of dread that runs through my body at the thought of it.

"What if Dad's with them?" I asked the question neither one of us wanted to think about.

He thinks for a moment, his face hard. "I don't know what I'd do. Not right now anyway."

I nod again, brushing off the feeling of uneasiness in my stomach, when Carl walks into our cell.

"Hey, Addy, Scott." He greets us. "My Dad and Michonne and I are leaving soon. For a supply run." He informs us.

"Just the three of you?" I ask. "Why?"

"My Dad wants to test Michonne, I guess." He says. "And I wanted to be included, for once." He laughs a bit.

"Okay. See you when you get back." I tell him.

"Yup, bye." He waves at me and my brother before turning around and leaving.

I turn to look at Scott, who is grinning at me.

"What?" I asked him.

"Nothing." He smirks.

"Seriously, what?"

"Nothing!" He stands up and walks to the door, but before leaving he turns around and whispers under his breath. "Addy.." And then walks away. I groan and throw my pillow at him as he leaves.

I hate it when he teases me.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"Hold it up higher, straighten your arms. C'mon Ada, I can't keep re-teaching these things to you." My brother groans into my ear. He may be a good shot, but he is god-awful at teaching it. Well, I guess if he was as great at it as he thinks he is, he'd teach it better.

I hold the un-loaded gun in my hands, which are becoming weaker by the second as I hold up the gun as high as it'll go. The wound on my upper arm also begins to become sore again. Exasperated by our lesson, I groan and drop my hands to my sides, "I don't want to do this anymore! My knife is a perfectly good weapon!"

"It's close range, though, A. You need to learn how to shoot better, I'm sorry but you do." He says, tired of my whining.

"I don't want to use a gun." I look around the room until I find Daryl sitting on a bench, looking at us. "I want to use something like Daryl does," I state.

"What?" My brother rolls his eyes.

Daryl stands up from his seat, taking his crossbow with him. "You think that guns are too heavy, I don't think you could use this." He says to me.

"I could get used to the weight, I'm sure," I say, mostly to my brother.

"Then why can't you get used to a gun," Scott says.

"Because I don't want to." Obviously.

"Obviously." Scott reads my mind, sarcastically.

Daryl laughs a bit at us, before trying to hand me his crossbow. I back up a bit, scared that I may drop it. I don't think he'd be too happy if I broke it.

"C'mon, I trust you, try it out." He settles it in my hands and adjusts how I'm holding it. The weight is okay, definitely heavier than the gun, but I like the concept more. Like my knife, the crossbow is quiet and stealthy but still long-range. The gun, on the other hand, is loud and draws too much attention to yourself especially if it goes off and gathers the dead around you.

After making a few adjustments, Daryl lets go of my arms, and to my surprise, I don't drop it.

"Well, isn't that something?" My brother laughs.

"Yeah, it fits you. Maybe need a smaller one, though." Daryl says.

"Yeah," I laugh. "I like it. Wanna let me shoot it?" I grin.

"Nope," Daryl says, taking it out of my hands.

"Oh, c'mon Daryl! Please?" I whine.

"Not yet."

"Please?"

"Nah."

"Pretty please." I look up at him, smiling.

"Nah."

I sigh and take a deep breath. A trick I've learned throughout my life, growing up with an older brother. When in doubt, annoy the hell out of 'em.

"Please, please, please, please, please, Daryl!"

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Carl and the others returned later that day, with a lot of supplies and guns. Carl asked to meet me in the cellblock. I sat on the bed in my cell, waiting for him, when he appeared at the door, holding something behind him. I couldn't see what it was because he was keeping it on the wall beside the door.

"What's up?" I ask, feeling suspicious.

"I was uh, looking around at everything in the town, and I found something I thought you'd really like." He says, smiling.

"What is it?" I say, standing up from the bed.

He moves to the side a bit, bringing his arm closer to him, and revealing a guitar. A very pretty one. I gasp a bit, mouth agape as I look at it. He grins and starts to hand it to me.

I take it from his hands and look at the designs on it. It was white with black flowers down the front, and all the strings were intact.

"Oh my gosh, Carl!" I put the guitar down on the bed and pull him into my arms, hugging him tightly. "Thank you so much. This means so much to me." I say, tears filling my eyes.

"You're welcome." He says as he hugs me back. "I knew how much you'd appreciate it, given what's happening. And I know how much you've missed having music. It's a nice thing to distract yourself."

"I'll cherish it forever." I pull back and look at him. I stare into his gorgeous blue eyes once again, before placing a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

Blushing, he smiles at me. "Anytime." 

A guitar is a good distraction for everything happening, but Carl's an even better one.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

"With music playing from my heart,

I dance forever in this universe."

- Natalia Beshqoy