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❝ WARM. ❞  ▬▬ a the walking dead fanfic ﹙written by heartsforiley﹚                                                        IN WHICH                          juliette and her self-proclaimed romeo navigate through the beginning of the end.                      OR                        JULIETTE "JULES" GRAVES, an eighteen year-old girl living wherever her group of people find themselves. She's quiet when you first meet her, and then, in no time, she'll start talking your ear off. She's a little bit sour, but she's the perfect mix of that and sweet.       Now, Juliette finds herself spiraling further into the depths of pain. As she thinks life can't get any worse, in walks a new group who calls themselves The Saviors.        SHE FINDS SOLACE IN THE MOST LIKELY OF PEOPLE.                          ♬ . . .                    ﹙adelaide kane﹚❛ JULIETTE "JULES" GRAVES ❜𓂃   the one who does notnot care about him  🦇                                  ﹙hayden christensen﹚❛ SCOUT WALKER ❜𓂃   self-proclaimed romeo  🎧                                             AND . . .   ANDREW LINCOLN as ... Rick GrimesNORMAN REEDUS as ... Daryl DixonLAUREN COHAN as ... Maggie GreeneDANAI GURIRA as ... MichonneMELISSA McBRIDE as ... Carol PeletierSTEVEN YEUN as ... Glenn RheeCHANDLER RIGGS as ... Carl GrimesJEFFREY DEAN MORGAN as ... Negan SmithCHRISTIAN SERRATOS as ... Rosita Espinosa JOSH MCDERMITT as ... Eugene PorterALANNA MASTERSON ... Tara ChamblerMICHAEL CUDLITZ ... Abraham Ford    and the rest of the castas themselves .                        ❝ thinking about the pastbut living in the present ❞                               STARTED : 10 18 24PUBLISHED : 11 18 24COMPLETED : 00 00 00                                i : strong language, panic/anxiety attacks + suicidal thoughts, manipulation, nsfw jokes, major character deaths. overall mature topics, as this is the walking dead. please be careful while reading! ii : major the walking dead spoilers. you will not be warned further on from this point! iii : inconsistent uploading schedule  iv : refrain from shipping my ocs with characters way out of their age range! with that being said, don't comment about your ships that are illegal. it's weird! v : i do not own twd, the characters, or it's plot. nor do i own any of the gifs/images i use. i only own my ocs vi : some plot will be changed for the story; nothing too drastic. if i happen to "get something wrong", i swear i didn't, it's just for the sake of the story vii : in the description i mentioned slight oc x daryl, and i want to clarify that the oc i'm referring to is not juliette. they have a joel-ellie type bond (the last of us). the oc i am talking about will be revealed later in the story viii : i switch between the devices i write on, so sometimes the typos are more noticeable. i hate reading my own work, so i rarely proofread. there's bound to be typos, but i still try my best to catch them eventually ix : enjoy! i accept constructive criticism about my writing, but keep it respectful!

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❝Everything happens for a reason    sometimes good things fall apartso better things can come together.❞ — Marilyn Monroe                             ❝Her own thoughts andreflections werehabitually her bestcompanions❞ 
Jane Austen

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❝ dont make me sad, dont make me cry
sometimes love is not enough

and the road gets tough, i dont know why

keep making me laugh

let's go get high

the road is long, we carry on
 𝓽𝓻𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓯𝓾𝓷 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 ❞                     
ACT ONE
 𓂃 season five                    
TERMINUS

CHURCH
                      ❝ empty promises. ❞

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chapter one.   wrong people ﹙season five, episode one﹚no sanctuary                 
"DO YOU THINK MOM will take us to Disney World this summer?" little Rory Graves mused quietly and lightly in the darkened room, watching the news on the television: one of the only channels they had.
 
     Juliette Graves, her older sister by five years, chewed on her bottom lip. Jules carried the burden of the harsh truth on her shoulders at a mere sixteen years old. It wasn't rare for her teachers to marvel at how respectful and mature the eldest Graves daughter had been, but it never served her any pride.
 
     She had to be those things. She held responsibilities no teenager should have to deal with. Taking care of her sister all day and all night while their mother was out, trying to rack in money that was just going to get spent as soon as it was made. She's also well aware of the fact that Hannah Graves, their mother, is close to losing one of her two jobs. The better paying job.
 
     Hannah Graves is forced to work two jobs after the death of her husband ten years ago. By day she's a preschool teacher, teaching the youth how to read and write letters. By night, she's bagging groceries at the local drugstore. Ever since gaining another job, her performance in her day-job has been slipping, and the school board is noticing her subpar performance.
 
     Juliette smiled softly at Rory as they sat together on the couch riddled with years old stains. "Maybe."
            𝜗𝜚            SWEAT BEADED DOWN THEIR foreheads as they worked quickly and diligently, sharpening their makeshift weapons in any way they could.      Juliette Graves's hands trembled as she held a stick of wood, rubbing it firmly together against the wall in hopes of creating a knife. The others worked around her before shouts could be heard from outside. Quickly they stood, hearts racing and chests heaving.      Some stood with their fists readied, while others held their wooden weapons, all gathered around the door and ready to strike. Until thumps sounded from the top, and light pooled in as a door on the roof slid open. In dropped a bomb, and their eyes widened.      "Get down!" Jules had barely registered the voice as someone tugged at her, throwing her like a rag-doll to the opposite side of the trailer. She didn't have time to think as the bomb went off, smoke releasing without a second to spare.      There was a ringing in her ear, and paired with the sounds of everyone coughing around her, she didn't even notice the door creaking open. Her mind was fuzzy, and her vision blurry.       It wasn't for a while until the smoke dissipated and they all stopped coughing, their throats burning and their vision still spotty. Jules looked around, silently checking the boxes of who was there. She felt her heart plummet when she realized five people were missing.      Scout, Daryl, Rick, Glenn, and Bob were all gone. What did that mean? Did all five of them manage to get out through all of the chaos? Or . . was it on purpose that those five were the ones taken?      The brunette felt sick to her stomach as the remainders of the group began speculating as well. Abraham pounded against the locked trailer door. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded to no one in particular through clenched teeth.       "Someone hit them," Michonne was quick to answer, confident in her answer. Jules clutched her stomach in response, her jaw clenched.      "Maybe our people got free," Sasha cut in with a more optimistic point of view. God, Jules wanted to believe it was that. Even if they did get free, was the five of them enough against them? Who even is them?  How many people are they up against? She knew she heard things going down out there, and it didn't sound like Terminus' normal routine.       "Excuse me," Eugene spoke, squeezing by Jules, who looked at him with confusion as she watched him bend down, the darkness consuming his actions.      "What are you doing?" Jules questioned him as Rosita caught on and walked over to them. Swallowing thickly, Jules prayed his supposed genius brain was finally being put to good use.      "I might be able to use this shell to compromise the door," Eugene answered, a hint of fear in his voice. If Jules wasn't too busy worrying, maybe she would have rolled her eyes at his ridiculous wording. "From the sound of things, there may not be anybody left to open it."      "Eugene, I'm sorry, but shut up," Tara cut in, sounding breathless as she waved Eugene off with a hand, directing her attention back to where Abraham stood, trying to open the door.      "Hey," Carl spoke, his voice oddly even as he stepped out from the corner with Maggie in tow. "My dad's gonna be back." Juliette's gaze softened at the boy's determination. With everything that's going down, she hasn't had the chance to properly talk to him. "They all are."      "They are," Maggie confirmed, nodding her head once. Their words seemed to soothe Jules, thought it was just a little bit. It was comforting knowing they seemed to believe that everything would work itself out. "And we need to get ready to fight our way out with them when they do."       It was then that Jules returned her focus to the more demanding objective. Right now, there was nothing she could do about her MIA friends. Sitting there and wallowing would definitely not help anyone. So, she fiddled around, looking for the stick of wood she had been sharpening before the bomb went off.       As she did, she lifted her gaze to a crack in the wall, before her heart stammered as a bloodied and rotted hand came into contact with it. It became more apparent to her what the sounds were outside. Walkers.      Jules clasped a palm over her mouth to keep from any noises escaping as she slowly backed away, moving to where Michonne sat instead. She didn't want to be alone over there. Especially not when her mind spiraled down the steps of wondering how slim their chances of survival now were.      It somewhat soothed her to remind herself of just who she was with, that and who was missing. She trusted almost everyone there with her life, and, as cheesy as it sounds, she full-heartedly believes they can get out of almost anything together.      The nine of them sat idly, their muscles aching in different ways from the strain that was being put on them. Jules continued rubbing her stick of wood on the ground, though she didn't know how much it was helping considering the object was already as sharp as it could get.      After a while of silence and doing next to nothing, Sasha spoke up. "What's the cure, Eugene?" she questioned, causing Jules to look up between the two adults.      "That's classified," Eugene was quick to dismiss her, continuing to look down and do what was (hopefully) useful.      "We don't know what's going to happen," Michonne cut in, a hint of suspicion in her tone.      "You leave him be," Abraham defended Eugene short after, causing Jules to sigh.      "I think there's more pressing matters right now," Jules whispered, mostly to herself, but she was sure everyone around her heard it. She'd be more curious about the cure, but since she didn't feel like listening to Eugene rant about things she didn't understand, she couldn't care less about the details.      "We need to keep working," Maggie agreed, who had finished sharpening her own tool, standing alongside Tara in front of the exit.      "Yeah, but it's time to hear it." Sasha continued to stare at Eugene expectedly, not backing down. "'Cause we don't know what's coming next."      "Even if I told you all, even if I provided step-by-step instructions complete with illustration and a well-composed FAQ and I went red-ring, the cure would still die with me," the brain himself answered, unwavering from his stance as he met Sasha's gaze.      Eugene's response seemed to fuel Jules's frustration, a low scoff leaving her parted lips as she focused on her task at hand. "I'm not gonna let that happen," Abraham assured, meeting Eugene's gaze intently.      As Abraham turned away, Eugene continued reluctantly, "The best case scenario, we step out into a hellstorm of bullets, fire, and walkers. I'm not fleet of foot. I sure as hell can't take a dead one down with sharp buttons and hella confidence."      Michonne heaved a sigh. "Yeah, but we can, and we will."      Sasha stood from her spot on the floor, clearly growing antsy and impatient. Jules couldn't blame the woman. They were still unaware of her brother's whereabouts. "You don't owe us anything. Not yet. But we just want to hear it."      "You don't have to," Rosita told Eugene, nodding reassuringly and knowingly. Eugene swallowed thickly before he stood and leaned against the wall, remaining silent for sometime.      "I was part of a ten-person team," Eugene began, causing Jules to pause her actions, standing, Michonne following her actions, "at the Human Genome Project to weaponize diseases to fight weaponized diseases. Pathogenic microorganisms with pathogenic microorganisms. Fire with fire. Interdepartmental drinks were had, relationships made, information shared. I am keenly aware of all the details behind fail safe delivery systems to kill every living person on this planet. I believe with a little tweaking on the terminals in DC, we can flip the script. Take out every last dead one of them. Fire with fire."      Everyone looked down, some exchanging looks at the heavy information. Jules exhaled as she crossed her arms, hugging herself protectively.       "All things being equal, it does sound pretty badass," Eugene finalized, a smirk resting on his lips as he nodded at everyone.      "So let's get back to work," Maggie spoke evenly, and just as Jules was going to comply, the sound of banging against the door caused them all to flinch and swing their heads over to that direction.      Only for Rick to stand on the other side of the now open door. Her relief was momentary as she stared at the sight behind him. You could barely see anything past the smoke littering the once clean streets, walkers wandering while others tried to fight them off.      "Come on!" Rick shouted hastily, not wasting a second as he turned away from them and fired bullets at nearby walkers. "Fight to the fence!" The group ran out, Jules running on wobbling knees. The only weapon she held was a measly piece of wood.      They all sprint towards the fence, stopping to stab their weapons into the skulls of walkers ready to feast. Jules hands trembled as the wood she held got stuck inside the walker, trying to yank it out. If she had a different weapon, she would have left it there, but she didn't.      She felt a hand on her shoulder, and her heart fell. It had to be a walker. She snapped her head towards it, waiting for her impending doom, only to realize it wasn't that type of walker. It was Scout Walker.      The blond kicked the dead walker over, her wooden knife sliding out of it. She released a shaky breath of relief, watching Scout with a soft and warm expression. "Scout, I—"      "We gotta go!" he shouted instead, knocking her out of dreamland, and back to the present. He shoved her forward, causing her feet to stumble, before she broke out into a sprint once again. The group made it to the fence, and one by one they climbed over it. Jules could feel the shake of gunshots from above and around her, but it did nothing to deter her as she ran with the group towards the forest.            𝜗𝜚            HER BREATH WAS RAGGED as she leaned against a tree, stopping shortly after Abraham sparked up a conversation, "The hell are we still around here for?"      "Guns, supplies. Go along the fences, use the rifles," Rick instructed, causing Jules to heave a low groan. She sure as hell couldn't use a gun, and she had no idea where her bow and knife went. Nor did she have the energy for something like that. "Take the rest of 'em out. They don't get to live."      Jules was glad she wasn't the only one looking at Rick incredulously.  "Rick, we got out. It's over," Glenn tried to reason, but the man instead took out his trusty pistol.      "It's not over till they're all dead." Jules blinked dumbly at Rick's response. That definitely wasn't the Rick she saw a couple days ago after the prison fell. Just what happened?      "The hell it isn't," Rosita scoffed, gesturing to the smoke not far off.       "Rick, it's on fire. What are we supposed to do?" Jules butted in, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously. The last thing she wanted to do was go back there.       "Not to mention it's packed with walkers," Scout added, who stood with his arms crossed, body tense and guarded.      "I'm not dicking around with this crap," Abraham replied crudely, shaking his head. "We just made it out."      "The fences are down," Maggie continued for them calmly, making eye contact with Rick. "They'll run or die."      The sound of leaves and branches crackling under someone's shoe caused Jules to turn her head, worried someone from Terminus had found them, only to be sorely mistaken.       There, in all of her glory, stood Carol Peletier. A woman Juliette Graves thought she'd never see again. The tension in the atmosphere around the group seemed to lift as Jules's feet carried her over to the older woman, wrapping her arms around her.       Fresh tears fell from her cheeks as she smiled at the short-haired woman, parting from the embrace when she turned to see an antsy Daryl. She stepped back, allowing them to have their moment as well. Rick was the third to step forward, disbelief written on his face.      "Did you do that?" Rick questioned quietly, referencing the fire that overtook Terminus. Carol remained silent, and Rick took that as an answer, pulling the woman into a hug, causing her to laugh.       Jules's lips hurt from how hard she was smiling, sniffling and wiping the tears away from her eyes. She glanced at Daryl, noting the way he silently cried, too. She wondered what happened to Daryl while they were all separated, too.      "You have to come with me," Carol then told Rick, her tone more serious as she pulled away.       The group wasted no time following Carol through the thicket, all the way to where the trees parted slightly for a lone house. Jules's breath caught in her throat from the sight before her.      There stood Tyreese. He wasn't alone, instead accompanied by Judith, the baby in his much larger arms. Jules had managed to stop crying, but she could feel the tears forming yet again as she watched Carl and Rick unite with Judith, and Sasha with Tyreese.       Momentarily, they forgot about their issues. The group conversed quietly, sharing their stories.       Like he was the opposite end of a magnet, Jules felt a pull to Scout, who had been teasing Carl about something. As the girl approached, Carl looked at her, then at Scout. "Hi," Jules greeted with a small smile, before glancing at Carl. "Mind if I steal him for a moment?"      The younger boy squinted at the girl, raising an eyebrow at Scout, as if trying to draw some sort of conclusion, before playfully rolling his eyes and finding his way back to his dad and sister.       They stayed quiet for a moment as Jules took in his now bloodied clothes. She bit the inside of her cheek as she met his gaze, bringing herself to ask, "What happened?"      Scout's teasing smile faltered as he ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "We'll talk later, 'kay? No need to spoil the moment."      Jules offered a strained smile as she shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, okay," she answered, before pausing. "Thanks, by the way."      He tilted his head to the side, visibly confused. God, why did he have to be so . . . "What are you thanking me for?"      She suddenly had the urge to fidget with her fingers as she awkwardly shrugged. "Back there. When you . . helped get that walker off."      She watched his expression contort, before he let out a short laugh. "Dude, don't thank me for something like that." Jules didn't answer, since she didn't really know what to say. Why couldn't she thank him?      The group then began walking the railroad tracks, briefly stopping to mark out the Terminus signs littering them. No sanctuary, he wrote.             end of i.   wrong people ▬▬

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chapter two.   arising ﹙season five, episode two﹚strangers                  THEY WALKED, AND WALKED, and walked . . . Juliette lost track of how long they had been walking. It would take a while to find enough room to take them all to Washington DC, after all.      They walked through thick trees, on open road, all with the lingering smoke hung high in the air from Terminus. Jules's mind lingered on the thought of going back to the city she lived in before everything went down. Her heart twisted uncomfortably in her chest as she tried to occupy her mind with something else.      Despite the negativity consuming her thought, Jules found one thing to be thankful for, which was Carol's quick thinking. Apparently she had, while infiltrating Terminus, discovered where all of their weapons were being kept. Her bow, along with her knife, had been safely returned to her. Her hand often found itself reaching down to the slot on her hip, feeling where her knife lay. The same knife that was used to deliver Judith. The same knife that was almost used to take Juliette's life when hopes seemed slim.      There was no doubt that they were all on edge and high alert, especially from what recently transpired. The only soothing thought in the girl's mind was the fact that all walkers wouldn't pay their group any mind, instead hyper focused on the ongoing dinner party at Terminus.       Walking all day, occasionally taking a pit stop, they completely stopped when night fell. A small fire was started, the gentle fire alluring Juliette's gaze as she sat leaned up against a tree.       When she felt someone sit beside her, their shoulders and thighs touching, she already had a guess as to who it was. Chewing on her bottom lip, Jules glanced sideways at Scout. The air around her shifted as she awkwardly tried to create some distance between them. She was thankful when Scout didn't seem to notice.      "I don't think I'll be able to sleep for a while," Scout started, and Jules was left dumbfounded at the uncharacteristic seriousness in his tone.      "What happened?" she repeated her earlier words softly, her voice low and as warm as she could get it.      "There were nine of us, tied up and leaned against a deep container," he started, staring forward at the fire, jaw clenched. "They.. the first four had their throats cut straight across. They died almost instantly. The blood spewed, and . . . "      Jules could hear his voice trail off as it grew shakier. Before she could overthink it, she laid her hand over his and squeezed it. He exhaled shakily.      "Cannibals. You know, I always thought that was something I'd never have to worry about. Like, quicksand or something. But, dead people start walking, and I guess no moral rules apply anymore."      Jules bit on her lower lip as she shrugged her shoulders, trying to shine some light on the situation. "At least you won't be running into quicksand around here, right?" she whispered, mustering a smile.      She was surprised to see him give her an exhausted smile. She didn't expect anything out of him. If she had been in his shoes, saw all of that, she doesn't know if she could even speak for a week.      Silence washed over them as Scout subtly intertwined their fingers together. Jules felt her heart thump loudly as her cheeks burned. She shouldn't be thinking like this. This was a strictly platonic conversation, and he would be disgusted with her if he were to find out where her mind was wandering.      So, she quickly switched her mind off of it. "When we were in Terminus . . I was terrified," she admitted quietly, looking down at their hands illuminated by the fire. "I couldn't even feel relieved that we had all found each other because everything went down so fast. When you guys disappeared, I thought for sure that I was going to die."      She felt him squeeze her hand reassuringly, though he said nothing. That was okay with her. His presence enough was comforting.      "But, I didn't. And, now, I still can't just feel . . happy," Jules continued, before immediately faltering from her words. "Beth," she breathed, guilt washing over her. "I feel so helpless. She must be all alone, and I'm sitting here doing nothing."      "It's Beth," Scout reasoned lightly, shrugging as he tried his best to reassure her. "Wherever she is right now, I'm sure she'll come up."      Jules let go of his hand, instead hugging her body with a shudder. "That wasn't really my point, but you're right . . in a way."      Scout moved his hand away as well, looking down at it now resting on his knee. Jules buried her face in her hands as her thoughts came crashing down on her.      "This sucks," she whispered, trying to fight back the whimper from her voice. "Everything . . God, I just want it all to stop. I want to live normally, and experience everything I should have experienced. I—I want to sleep peacefully at night."      The boy stayed silent for a while, only briefly shifting from his position. "I know," he finally replied quietly, hands forming fists. "It really does suck. But you're not alone, okay? You have me." Jules glanced at him. "W-Well, you know, you have Michonne a-and Glenn, and stuff. Not just me . . . "      Jules continued to blink at him, before a soft bit of laughter left her parted lips. She couldn't help but laugh at his nervous ramblings. It was just so out of character of him, and that brought amusement to her eyes. The last time he nervously fumbled over his words with her was all the way back when they had first spoken to each other back at the prison. The memory was sweet to her.      Scout pouted in response, blaming the way his cheeks burned on the fire in front of them as he refused to look at her.      The air around them grew more solemn and somber. Jules, despite the glowing fire, felt cold as she then hugged her knees to her chest.      "Thank you," she mumbled, the sound barely audible.       "I thought I already told you not to thank me for that."      "No, not that," Jules answered with a sigh, chewing on her bottom lip. "Thank you for just . . being here. You make it more bearable."      Jules could see the way his body seemed to relax, having been tensed the entire time they'd been sitting up against that tree. It warmed her heart slightly, knowing she was able to provide him the same comfort that he provided her.       But, the tenderness didn't last as Scout dramatically groaned, "You're such a sap, Juliette." The joke only made Jules falter, doing the exact opposite of what it was supposed to do. "Sorry. You make everything bearable, too."      The brunette mustered a small smile, her eyes twinkling as she looked at him. It was the first time that night that their gaze met.       "I miss my hockey stick," Scout voiced after a few moments of silence, retrying to bring light into the moment. This time it worked as Jules smiled sadly.      "I miss my books," she agreed quietly, shrugging her shoulders.      No other words were shared between them. After a while, Jules noticed the way his head lolled off to the side, signaling that maybe he was able to get some sleep. She smiled softly at the rare sight of his features softened and so normal. Despite how exhausted she had been, she doesn't think she'd get a lick of sleep.      When it was clear he had fallen asleep, Jules subtly moved away from him, feeling the leaves crunch under her sneakers as she instead made her way over to Carol and Daryl, who were keeping watch for the night.       She offered them a smile, but the fire's light didn't reach that far, so she wasn't sure if they saw it. "Couldn't sleep," she answered their question before they could ask.      Carol scooted over against the tree, leaving Jules some room. The older woman returned her smile, albeit it was small.      "It wasn't the same without you," Juliette spoke, her voice hushed as she stared at the short-haired woman, the smile still on her lips. "I'm glad you're back."      Carol's smile widened and warmed as she slowly nodded. "I'm glad, too." The moment was quickly interrupted by the sound of a branch crackling and leaves crunching from the opposite direction of their camp. Daryl was quick to jump to his feet, a hand over Carol and Jules protectively as he squinted his eyes into the darkness.       It was quiet and eerie as they continued to stare. Daryl shook his head, although they were all still skeptical. "It's nothing," he dismissed, turning back around to sit.       Jules bit her lip, not convinced. She couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on the three of them.            𝜗𝜚            THE NEXT MORNING, AS soon as the sun came up, they set off once more. Jules held her bow close to her thigh, moving simultaneously with the rest of her group, wading the forest.       The group on guard, the slightest sound of something in front of them made everyone raise their weapons, ready to strike. Out appeared one of their own, Daryl Dixon, who raised his hands in surrender with an amused grin, carrying his own weapons along with a bundle of rodents. "We surrender."      This caused everyone to sigh, lowering their weapons as they continued to walk. Rick and Daryl conversed about something quietly that Jules couldn't hear. When they were done, Rick whirled around, looking almost desperate as he whistled and motioned them to pick up the pace. "Stay close," he whisper-shouted.      "Wet socks," Sasha started with a groan, talking to Bob, Scout, and Jules.      "Cool feet," Bob countered optimistically, smiling knowingly at the girl. Jules rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress her giggle fast enough.      "Mosquito bites," Scout cut in, raising an eyebrow as he awaited Bob's reasoning as to how that could be a good thing.       "Itching reminds you you're alive," Bob answered, grinning as he poked a finger at the boy.      Jules shrugged her shoulder with a hum, knowing the mosquito bites somewhat helped keep her mind at bay. "Can't argue with that."        "Danger around every corner," Sasha pointed out, an already triumphant look on her face. Surely he couldn't come up with a reason for that.      "Never a dull moment," the man quickly replied, shrugging his shoulders cheekily.       "The hot sun beating down on you," Sasha heaved a defeated sigh, already knowing Bob was going to somehow make it something good.      "A glorious tan," Bob chuckled, before looking pointedly at Scout. "Come on, you have to agree with me. Look at you."      Scout blinked at him, clearly unamused as he rolled his eyes. Jules's smile widened. "No privacy," Sasha continued, looking at Bob.       Jules and Scout glanced at each other knowingly, grimacing. "Captive audience," Bob quipped, before laughing lightly and leaning down to press a quick kiss to Sasha's lips. Both Jules and Scout pretended to gag, making their point clear as they fell back away from Sasha and bob.      They now walked alongside Tara, who decided to cut in with a playful smile. "I've gotta admit, I'd kill for that tan, too," she mused, gesturing to Scout.      "It's not as glorious as Bob thinks," Scout hummed, shaking his head. "I get the worst sunburn ever before it turns into a tan."      Jules shrugged her shoulders with a grin. "Beauty is pain, right?" As Scout opened his mouth to retort, he was quickly cut off by the sound of someone screaming in the far distance.      "HELP!" a masculine voice yelled, echoing across the trees. Everyone stood still, eyes wide as they clutched their weapons. "HELP, ANYBODY! HELP!"      The sound of utter horror in the man's voice sent eerie shivers down her spine as she sucked in a sharp breath. When Rick made no move to help the man out of sight, Carl began pleading, "Dad, come on! Come on!"      His dad wrung his jaw in thought, looking between where the ongoing screams were coming from, and back at the group, before making up his mind. They all broke off into a sprint, following the voice with haste.      It didn't take them long for their eyes to connect to a man on top of a boulder, a group of walkers down below clinging to the ends of his black slacks. Carl acted quickly, shooting a bullet into one of the many walkers' skulls. Conserving their ammo, the rest of the group moved forward, using knives and the butts of their guns to finish off the remainder of the walkers. Jules felt her knife sink into a dead one's skull cleanly, before pulling it out when the job was done. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in her hands for a short while.      After all of them were killed off, they all looked up at the man, trembling on the boulder. His face was wracked with sweat as his body curled in on itself. He looked utterly pathetic, Jules couldn't help but think. He reminded her of Eugene, in a way. "We're clear. Keep watch," was instructed, causing some of the group to turn around with pointed guns, waiting to see if another walker happened to stumble their way.       "Come on down," Rick told the man, gesturing for him to get off the rock. He shakily slid off, standing on wobbling legs. It was then Jules took in his appearance. He looked to be dressed as a pastor, of sorts. Even after all this time living with the dead, he still kept up his former occupation. They all stared at him with narrowed eyes, seeking answers from the man. "You okay?"      As soon as Rick asked, the man doubled over, clutching his stomach as the sound of vomit soon followed. The group all turned their heads, Jules's face scrunched up as she looked away with disgust. She's lucky she hasn't had enough to eat to throw anything up.       They stood in silence as he finished, wiping his mouth as he stood up straight, composing himself. "Sorry," he mumbled, looking around apologetically. "Yes, thank you. I'm Gabriel," the man, Gabriel, breathed out, still seemingly shaken up.       "Do you have any weapons on you?" Rick questioned expectedly.      Gabriel laughed nervously, glancing around, until his gaze landed on Michonne, who stared back intimidatingly. His laughter died down awkwardly. "Do I look like I would have any weapons?"       "We don't give two short and curlies what it looks like," Abraham scoffed. Gabriel swayed anxiously, realizing that they meant business, and weren't giving in to his lame attempt at jokes.      "I have no weapons of any kind," Gabriel confirmed quickly. "The word of God is the only protection I need."      "Look where that got you," Jules pointed out bitterly, still hanging on tightly to her bow, her knife back in its holster. Gabriel briefly glanced at her, a wobbly smile on his lips.      "I called for help," he countered breathlessly, looking at everyone around him with a more confident smile. "Help came." It faltered quickly when no one returned the smile, instead staying silent. "Do you have—have any food? Whatever I—I had left, it just hit the ground."      With a shrug, Carl reached into his pocket, pulling out nuts. "Got some pecans," he said, outstretching his hand to Gabriel. Rick didn't seem too pleased, but he didn't say anything.      Judith then began cooing in Tyreese's arms, catching Gabriel's attention. He smiled at the little girl tenderly. "That's a beautiful child," he complimented. Gabriel only received skeptical and unsure looks. "Do you have a camp?" he questioned instead.      "No. Do you?" Rick asked, cocking his head to the side.      "I have a church," Gabriel answered with a nod of his head. Jules narrowed her eyes at him, not sure of what to think of him yet. Something about him just didn't seem right.      Rick shook his head with a heavy sigh. "Hold your hands above your head," the man instructed with slight irritation. Gabriel did as told, while Rick began patting him down. "How many walkers have you killed?"      Gabriel nervously shook his head. "Not any, actually." Jules's skepticism grew. Just how has he survived this long, alone, without having to kill a walker?       "Turn around." Rick twirled the man around, his back now facing the group. "How many people have you killed?" Gabriel looked just about like he was going to shit his pants, as Scout would say.      Gabriel turned to look at Rick from over his shoulder, like his answer was obvious. "None."      The bearded man stopped patting down Gabriel, moving to look into his eyes once more. "Why?"      The latter stared at him for a few moments, fear in his eyes, like he was hiding something. The apocalypse granted Jules the stunning ability of reading people, and time and time again it has paid off. "Because the Lord abhors violence."      Rick didn't seem to buy it either, leaning into Gabriel's face with narrowed eyes. "What have you done?" he whispered. Gabriel's face twitched, looking away momentarily. "We've all done something."      At that, Gabriel confirmed it. "I'm a sinner. I sin almost every day. But those sins, I confess them to God, not strangers." Jules had to fight the urge to scoff at his words, but Scout didn't seem to care about suppressing his.      "You said you had a church?" Michonne questioned instead, leaning her weight against the rock. Gabriel nodded in response.      And, with that, the group made Gabriel lead the way to his church. "Hey, earlier," Rick started, walking behind Gabriel, "were you watching us?" Jules swallowed thickly, knowing what Rick was referring to. Daryl must have told him about last night.      Gabriel shook his head as he walked. "I keep to myself. Nowadays, people are just as dangerous as the dead, don't you think?"      "No, people are worse," Daryl answered cryptically.       "Well, I wasn't watching you. I haven't been beyond the stream near my church more than a few times since it all started. That was the furthest I've gone today." Jules stared at the back of Gabriel's head, trying to figure him out. She believed him when he said he wasn't the one watching them last night, but she wasn't so sure about that rest of it. "Or I'm lying. Maybe I'm lying about everything and there's no church ahead at all. Maybe I'm leading you into a trap so I can steal all of your squirrels."      Gabriel turned around with an amused smile, only to realize no one else had found it funny.       "Members of my flock had often told me that my sense of humor leaves much to be desired."      "Guess you're not one to pick up on sarcasm," Scout replied dryly as Gabriel nervously took a few steps back from Rick and Daryl.       The rest of the way was silent, until they finally made it to his supposed church. It wasn't big by any means, small and white with a brown door. It looked rundown, as did all buildings.       Gabriel made his way up the steps, only for Rick to stop him. "Hold on. Can we take a look around, first? We just want to hold on to our squirrels," he said mockingly, causing Gabriel to meekly hand over the keys to the building.      The door was kicked open, guns and other weapons aimed high just in case as they searched through the dark church. The more they looked through the crooks and crannies, through the closets and bathrooms, the more their bodies loosened and their guard lowered. It really was just a church.       Jules stepped into a room in the far corner, seeing desks and a mess of supplies strewn around. As her gaze trailed the walls, her jaw clenched, looking at the children's drawings hanging up. She shoved Rory out of her mind, before stepping out of the room.       As everyone reunited back outside of the front door, Gabriel began an explanation. "I spent months out here without stepping out the front door. If you found someone inside, well, it would have been surprising."      A rare, genuine smile graced Carl's lips as he nodded at Gabriel, cradling Judith. "Thanks for this."       "I found a short bus in the back," Abraham told Rick. Jules had a feeling she knew where this was going. "It don't run, but I bet we could fix that in less than a day or two. Father here says he doesn't want it. Looks like we found ourselves some transport. You understand what's at stake here, right?"      "Yes, I do," Rick answered, gaze casted down at his shoes.      "Now that we can take a breath—" Michonne tried, before Abraham cut her off with, "We take a breath, we slow down, shit inevitably goes down."      "We need supplies no matter what we do next," Michonne replied, a tightlipped and forced smile on her lips.      "That's right," Rick confirmed with a nod, before listing the items off as he dismissively stepped inside of the church. "Water, food, ammunition."      "Short bus ain't going nowhere." Daryl looked at Abraham pointedly as they all began filing into the church. "Bring ya back some baked beans."      Jules heaved a sigh as she plopped down on one of the pews, rubbing her eyes with her hands. She watched from a distance as Rick interrogated Gabriel, asking him how was able to survive, while the latter said something about a canned food drive. He mentioned cleaning out every place for supplies except for one overrun by walkers.      Plans were quickly made to go to that building, and to continue scavenging the area to find anything of use. Apparently, the decision on whether or not Jules would go with the rest of the group had already been made by Rick.      Rick slid into the seat next to her, causing her to look at him curiously. She had just been gearing up and getting ready to go back out. "Yeah?" she questioned.      "I want you to stay here, okay?" he answered tentatively with a nod of his head. "There's something more to him that he's letting on, and I don't trust him."      Jules was too tired to protest the fact that she wouldn't be going. She didn't want to feel useless, but she didn't have the energy in her. "I don't trust him, either."      Rick nodded. "Good," he said, before turning with a sigh, looking back at her. "I want you to take care of Carl and Judith, okay? Tyreese is staying back, as well."      Jules smiled softly and reassuringly, nodding in understanding. "Yeah, okay. I can do that."      "Thank you," Rick replied, momentarily squeezing her shoulder, before standing and walking away. With a sigh, Jules stood, making her way over to a lone Carl.      "Looks like you're stuck with me," the girl mused lightly, garnering his attention. Carl snapped his gaze up to her, a small smile on his lips.      The boy shrugged his shoulders. "That's not too bad, I guess. Could be worse."      Jules hummed, leaning her weight against the pew. "Right. You could be stuck with Abraham. No one wants that." This caused Carl's smile to widened as he began chuckling underneath his breath.       The sound subsided as Carl's gaze caught on something behind Jules, causing her to raise an eyebrow at him.      "Romeo's all geared up, and he's staring pretty hard at the back of your head." Carl pointed over her shoulder, and Jules grimaced.      "Never call him that again, okay?" she scolded playfully with a shake of her head, before bidding Carl a brief goodbye as she made her way over to the boy staring at her.       As she approached him, she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be leaving now?"      He subtly shrugged his shoulders, looking off to the side like he hadn't just been staring at her. "Oh, you know, just wanted to say bye."      Jules looked at him with amusement. "Um, okay. Bye." But Scout still stood there, a pout on his lips. "What?"      "Goodbye, Juliette," Scout replied, putting an emphasis on her name, causing her to smile knowingly.      "Ah. Goodbye, Scout," she answered, watching him smirk victoriously, before turning and disappearing down the walkway of the church.      Jules shook her head as she watched him leave, a warm smile on her lips. "You guys are gross," she heard Carl mumble from not far away, causing her to roll her eyes.             end of ii.   arising ▬▬

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chapter three.   just one night ﹙season five, episode two﹚strangers                 "YOU DON'T HAVE A good poker face," Carl pointed out an hour or two after everyone set off. Juliette, who had been sitting next to him in the pew, carrying a cooing Judith to her chest, glanced at him with confusion.      "What do you mean?" she questioned, briefly looking down at Judith as the words left her lips. Carl shrugged his shoulders absentmindedly as he looked down at his hands.      "I don't know, you look worried," he answered with instead. "Why?"      Jules let out a breathy laugh at that, the sound humorless. "That's a loaded question there." When Carl made it clear he was still expecting in answer, she sighed. "Shane was my uncle. Certain circumstances had me living with him for the summer. I didn't live in Atlanta."      Carl didn't try to mask his curiosity as he turned to look at her with furrowed eyebrows. "So, where did you live?"       "Washington, DC," Jules answered coolly, gently rocking the baby in her arms to provide some sort of distraction for her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Carl blinking owlishly.      "Why aren't you glad to be going back?" Carl asked bluntly, her reasoning lost on him. "I think I'd be."      "Because then I'll know for sure that there's no seeing Rory or my mom again." The air felt suffocating. "Just . . seeing my hometown destroyed . . it'd break me."      No other words were shared for a while. They took turns playing with Judith, gentle smiles on their lips as they watched the ball of sunshine. So unaware and unknowing of the world she lives in.      When it was Carl's turn, Jules silently stood from her seat, wandering over to where Tyreese stood next to the door, alert and at the ready. Jules offered him a smile and small wave as he turned to look at her, who quickly returned her smile.      "Hey," she greeted, voice barely above a whisper, considering the only noise around was her voice and there was no reason to be any louder. "Feels like I haven't spoken to you in forever."      The much taller man nodded his head, turning to face the outside window. "I see what you mean. With everything going down, feels like there's no time for things like that."      Jules nodded and hummed in agreement, because he was right, and there was no arguing with that. "So, um . . " she started, unsure of how to word it, "you and Carol." She hadn't meant to sound so blunt, with everything that Tyreese went through because of Carol, but the words fell from her lips before she could truly think about it.       Tyreese glanced down at her, jaw clenching momentarily, before his body inevitably relaxed. "Found 'er after the prison collapsed. We talked. It's all right."       Jules rubbed her arm awkwardly, offering a smile. "I'm sorry about . . . " she trailed off, assuming he'd get what she meant without having to say it aloud.      He nodded subtly, though he didn't touch on the subject more. "So, I've heard you like fish. Got anything for me?"      The awkward and tense air around them seemed to lift as Juliette's smile widened. Something about this felt so normal, simply talking about her interests, like there weren't dead people walking around.       "Fish aren't as different from people as you'd think," Jules started, turning to instead look out the church's window. "When they're sick, they can't eat, either. They feel pain, and when they do, endorphins help reduce it. I think it's cool."      Tyreese chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he kept his gaze trained on the window as well. "I'm sure they don't gotta worry about scale-eating fish, though."      He had a point. A depressing one, that is.            𝜗𝜚            AN HOUR OR TWO went by with Juliette bored out of her mind. She took a few laps inside of the church, looking at everything that it had to offer. There were slightly creepy inscriptions she had missed the first walk through, but for some reason she was more drawn to the children's drawings more than anything.      She was sure she could have stared at them until the sun went down. She doesn't know why they entrance her so much, why they leave mixed emotions in her stomach. She doesn't have long to ponder it as Carl enters, informing the girl that he was going to check the outside of the church, and that Tyreese was now in possession of Judith.      As Carl left the room, Jules allowed her fingers to run over the artwork, tracing the lines and curves of the silly images that could only be conjured by the young mind.      It wasn't until the sound of heavy footsteps that she stopped, almost jumping out of her skin as she whirled around to the doorway.      "Jeez, Scout," Jules breathed, clutching a hand to her chest as she let out a breath. "Since when were you so silent?"      With a pout, Scout sauntered over to the table in the middle of the room, dramatically letting his bags and supplies fall from his shoulders. "That's not a very nice greeting, Jules. Especially since I went out of my way to get you a present."      Choosing to ignore his comment, Jules crossed her arms as she watched him closely. "I'm guessing everyone made it back okay?"      Scout let out a hum as he leaned over the table, sifting through one of his bags, presumably looking for something. "Uh-huh. Don't gotta worry that pretty little head of yours."      Jules lips pulled into a frown, clearly unamused as her cheeks burned. She was about to scold him, or tease him, but those thoughts were quickly thrown out the window as the boy took out a book from his bag.      "I hope it's the right one," he mumbled, suddenly growing bashful as he handed it over to her. Jules's lips fell agape as she looked down at the book. "Michonne said it was, so if it isn't, blame her."      There, lying in her hands, was Emma by Jane Austen. Not only that, but it was a special edition hardcover, blue and gold roses daunting the cover. She flipped through the pages, which had hardly dusted. This book didn't look like it had been in an apocalypse. It looked like something she'd find at her local bookstore back in DC.      "Scout," she breathed, shaking her head with disbelief as she looked up at him. "How'd you even find this?"      He shrugged his shoulders before rubbing the back of his neck, feigning nonchalance while he averted his gaze. "Oh, you know, just happened to walk by and see it while I was looking for supplies."      Jules smiled at him, her eyes soft and gentle as she stepped forward, hesitantly wrapping her arms around his neck. She could tell he was caught off guard by it, but wasted no time returning it, wrapping his arms around his waist.       She had hugged a lot of people many times before, but for some reason, this one felt different. She couldn't tell why or how it felt different, but it did, and she liked it. And she didn't want it to end.      "Thank you," Jules whispered into his ear, subconsciously tightening her grip on his shirt.        "Yeah, sure, okay," Scout answered, the words falling out of his mouth quickly. If Jules wasn't preoccupied with her own thoughts and her own fast beating heart, maybe she would have picked up on his nervousness.      Then Rick tapped a knuckle against the already open door, signaling his presence, and Jules jumped away from Scout like they had been caught doing something they shouldn't be. Truthfully, she doesn't know why she jumped like that, because they were just hugging. Nothing more. People hug all the time, it was no big deal.       There was a ghost of a smile on Rick's lips as he raised an eyebrow. If he hadn't been thinking the situation was strange, he certainly was now.       "Rick, um . . . " Jules began, crossing her arms as she cleared her to throat. "I'm guessing you're looking for Carl. He went outside to look around the church. Judith is with Tyreese."      Rick nodded once with a, "Thanks, Jules," before turning around and walking out of the small room, probably going off to find his sun.       It was silent for a few moments before Scout decided to break it. "Dude, I need to learn how to talk like that."      Glancing at him, she squinted, obviously confused. "What?"      "How Rick says his words, you know," Scout answered, before abruptly putting a smolder on his face, lowering his voice. "'Thanks, Jules.'"      A smile spread across her lips as she let out a laugh, muffling the noise with the palm of her hand. "I would pay a million bucks for you to do that in front of Rick."      His face immediately dropped as he shook his head. "That would be the most awkward interaction I've ever had."      Later that day, after the sun went down, everyone seemed to be in a good mood for the first time in what felt like ages. The laughter and pleasant conversation rubbed off on Jules, and she's sure a smile has been plastered on her lips for the past hour.      She giggled in amusement as she watched Glenn act as a walrus, putting two forks on either sides of his mouth.       It made her forget about their current life, instead remembering all the way back to when she first met Glenn. He was as irresponsible as they came, and one of the goofiest members back at their camp. Now, he's taken on a more serious role within their group. She's glad she was able to watch him mature into the man he is now.      As Glenn went off with Maggie, the duo holding paper plates with canned food in their hands. Jules helped herself to servings laid out on a table, almost like they were all at a Thanksgiving dinner.      Once she finished filling her plate, she wandered over to where Tara sat in one of the pews, offering the older girl a brief smile as she sat down next to her. "Hey," Tara greeted. It felt good to be there, Jules mused to herself. Even if it was just for one night.      "I'd like to propose a toast," Abraham raised his voice, standing at the front of everything, causing the ongoing chatter to cease. "I look around this room . . and I see survivors. Each and every one of you has earned that title. To the survivors."      Abraham raised his glass, causing everyone to do the same as they said, "To the survivors."      "Is that all you want to be?" Abraham suddenly continued, and Jules redirected her attention to him. "Wake up in the morning, fight undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep at night with two eyes open, rinse and repeat? 'Cause you can do that. I mean, you got the strength. You got the skill. Thing is for you people, for what you can do, that's just surrender."      Jules narrowed her eyes at him, a rush of confidence in her voice as she voiced, "What else are we supposed to do?"      Abraham's gaze flashed to her, nodding. "Good question. Now, we get Eugene to Washington and he will make the dead di and the living will have this world again. And that is not a bad takeaway for a little roadtrip. Eugene, what's in DC?"      As everyone's gaze had shifted from Jules to Abraham, it then landed on Eugene. "Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude. That means food, fuel, refuge. Restart."      Jules looked down at her full plate of canned fruit and beans, feeling herself losing her appetite despite not having eaten anything in the last couple of days. Eugene was promising something so heavy, and she couldn't find it in herself to believe that it was true. She wanted to, wanted everything to go back to normal, but could it be that easy? One man to save the entire world?      "However this plays out, however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started. Come with us," Abraham spoke, turning his attention to Rick, who sat with Judith in his arms. "Save the world for that little one. Save it for yourselves. Save it for the people out there . . who got nothing let to do except survive."      After a few moments, Rick let out something between a scoff and a laugh. Judith cooed in response. "What's that?" he asked Judith playfully, a smile on his lips. "I think she knows what I'm about to say. She's in. If she's in, I'm in. We're in."      The tension in the air was gone as everyone broke out into relieved laughs and breaths, looking around at one another with ecstasy.       Despite the promises of safety that were being made, and the belief of everyone around her, Jules couldn't shake the sick feeling in her stomach. She couldn't bring herself to be happy, joyful, and relieved like the rest of the group. Maybe it was the idea of going back to where she once lived. But Abraham and Eugene said it was supposed to be safe there, so she shouldn't be worrying about it. But she is.      Staring down at her plate as sweat stuck to her forehead, a hand on her shoulder knocked her out of her daze, turning to look at Tara. "Hey. You doing okay?" the woman whispered, head tilted to the side as she tried to inspect Jules.      Jules swallowed thickly as her jaw clenched, stiffly nodding her head. "I'm good. Probably a stomachache since I ate so much."      Tara blinked, face twitching in reply. "Jules, you haven't eaten anything. Try to eat some of those peaches. It might make you feel better."      She didn't want to argue, so she shoved the fruit into her mouth, ignoring the feeling of impending doom.             end of iii.   just one night ▬▬

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chapter four.   shoes on grass ﹙season five, episode three﹚four walls and a roof                 JULIETTE FOUND HERSELF BACK in the room with all of the drawings. She made herself at home in there, laying down her weapons and bags as she sat in the desk's chair. Her hands immediately reached down for the gift from Scout, laying it out in front of her.      She remembers reading Emma during her classes. It wasn't rare for classmates to tease her for constantly reading when it wasn't an assigned book for English class, but she didn't mind it. Right now she secretly hoped someone would tease her, just to feel a sense of normalcy.      "Juliette," Sasha's desperate voice sounded from the doorway, causing the girl to whip her head around. For one, it was really late at night, and she assumed everyone would have been fast asleep. The second red flag was the usage of Jules's full name.      "Sasha," Jules greeted, chewing her bottom lip as she completed stood from the chair. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"      "I . . I don't know," the woman answered, shaking her head. "I was hoping Bob was with you. Have you seen him anywhere?"      Jules's heart twitched in her chest. Had something happened to Bob? "No, no. I haven't seen him since dinner."       "What about Daryl? Or Carol?"      Her heart faltered more at Sasha's anxious tone. What was going on? "Not since dinner, no. Sasha, what's going on?" She watched as the last bit of hope fell from Sasha's face. Sasha wasted no time making an exit without answering her question, and Jules was left dumbfounded.       After setting her things away, Jules left the room, taking in the darkness of the room. A few people were missing, like Rick and Tyreese along with Sasha, presumably out looking for Bob, Daryl, and Carol. Gabriel looked fidgety, organizing books before organizing them again.      Her confusion only seemed to grow. Eyes finding Carl, she made her way over to him, sitting down. "Do you have any idea what's going on?" she questioned, voice low. Carl's lips formed a thin line as he mutely shook his head.      "I'm not sure," he answered with a shrug of his shoulders, before lowering his voice. "But earlier when I looked around, I found knife marks on the outside, and another saying you'll burn for this. I . . I'm not sure what it's about, but I don't think Gabriel is a bad guy."      Jules nodded slowly at the new information, her eyes burning into the side of Gabriel's head as she watched him from afar.       It wasn't long before Sasha marched back in and up to Gabriel, looking furious as Tyreese and Rick trailed not far behind her. "Stop," she scoffed, startling Gabriel as he looked up at the woman. "What are you doing? What are you doing? This is all connected . . . You show up, we're being watched, and now three of us are gone."      "I . . . " Gabriel started, sweat beading down his forehead as he looked at other people for help. "I don't . . I don't have anything to do with this."      The sound of a knife unsheathing caught Jules's attention, her eyes going wide as she stood from her seat. Sasha had pulled a knife on Gabriel, who immediately tumbled back, books clashing while others shouted at Sasha to stop.       "Who's out there?" Sasha demanded, her voice hushed as she moved closer to Gabriel who held his hands up in surrender.      "I—I don't—"      "Where are our people?" she cut him off, her jaw clenched and her words holding an eerie calmness.      "I don't have anything to do with—"      "WHERE ARE OUR PEOPLE?!" Sasha shouted, inches away from his face, causing Gabriel to flinch from his spot. Jules watched with wide eyes, though she stood still from her spot.       "Please, I don't have anything to do with this," Gabriel continued to deny, his voice shaky as he desperately shook his head.      Sasha sucked in a sharp breath, the pain evident on her face as she staggered back. Now, Rick took her place, a lot more composed than the woman had been. Jules moved forward to where Sasha stood, the former tentatively putting her hands on the lawyer's shoulders in hopes of comforting her. Sasha's body tensed, looking over her shoulder, before she relaxed as Jules nodded.      "We'll find them. I'm sure Bob is okay," Jules reassured quietly, but she wasn't sure if Sasha believed her.      "Why'd you bring us here?" Rick questioned, no visible anger in his tone. If anything, that was more scary than if he were to be screaming.      "Please, I—"      "You working with someone?" the bearded-man continued, voice raising slightly, tilting his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes at Gabriel.       "I'm alone. I'm alone," Gabriel repeated breathlessly, shaking his head anxiously as he looked around. "I was always alone."      "What about the woman in the food bank, Gabriel?" Rick pressed, taking a step towards him as Gabriel took a step away.      Jules listened more intently, completely in the dark on the happenings of what went down on their scavenger hunt. Scout wasn't any help when she asked questions, because he supposedly didn't go to the food bank. With permission, he assured.       "What did you do to her? 'You'll burn for this.' That was for you. Why? What are you going to burn for, Gabriel?" When Gabriel didn't respond, Rick lunged forward, grabbing onto the neck of his shirt. "What? What did you do? What did you do?!" Jules swallowed thickly as she released Sasha's shoulders, focusing on Rick. This definitely wasn't the Rick she had known back at the prison, and her worries from earlier seemed to grow, wondering just what happened in the short time at Terminus.      When Rick shoved Gabriel away, the man looking like he was about to shit himself, as Scout would have said, he finally relented. "I lock the doors at night. I always lock the doors at night. I always—" Gabriel's voice broke as he looked down, his face scrunched up, seemingly fighting back the tears.       "They started coming, my congregation. Atlanta was bombed the night before and they were scared. They were—They were looking for a safe place, a place where they felt safe. And it was so early, so early . . . And the doors were still locked. You see . . it was my choice. There were so many of them and they were trying to pry the shudders and banging on the sidings, screaming at me. And so the dead came for them."      Her eyes went wide as she took in his words. From the very start, Gabriel had played a role as innocent and kind, concealing what he had really done. Jules had seen right through his facade, but she never would have expected something like this.       "Women . . " he said, fighting back a sob as he looked at Sasha and Jules, before turning to Carl, "children . . . Entire families calling my name as they were torn apart, begging me for mercy. Begging me for mercy." Gabriel's hands were clasped together as the tears welled in his eyes, body hunching over as he was forced to relive the torment plaguing his mind. "Damning me to hell. I buried their bones. I buried it all. The Lord sent you here to finally punish me."      Jules blinked owlishly as Gabriel fell to his knees right in front of a stunned Rick.      "I'm damned," he sobbed silently and breathily. "I was damned before. I always lock the doors. I always lock the doors." Gabriel's body curled in on itself on the floor as he helplessly cried.       Before any more words on the matter could be shared, Glenn's voice caught everyone's attention, spinning around to look at the man by the window. "There's someone outside laying on the grass."      Sasha's eyes went wide as she hurriedly dashed out of the doors, Jules moving her legs to follow, only for Rick to shake his head at the girl, running after Sasha soon after.       Jules could only stand there dumbly by a wide-eyed Carl as she heard shouts and yells, followed by quick gunshots that made her stomach drop. She clutched Carl's arm instinctively as Bob was brought in, carried by Sasha and Tara. Her eyes fell to where one of Bob's legs had been missing.            𝜗𝜚            THE AIR WAS THICK as the group sat around Bob, face drained of almost all of his life, hanging on by a thread for them. "I was in the graveyard. Somebody knocked me out," he explained through slurred and ragged words. "I woke up outside this place. It looked like a school. It was that guy, Gareth."      Juliette's hand had found Scout's as Bob began his explanation of what had happened to him. That name, Gareth, had appeared in Scout's words a day ago when he was telling Jules what happened to him at Terminus. That name sent cold shivers down her spine.      "And five other ones. They were eating my leg right in front of me. Like it was nothing. All proud like they had it all figured out." Jules's free hand had reached up to her lips, muffling the quiet gasps and shaky breaths.      "Did they have Daryl and Carol?" Rick voiced, his eyes faraway and dazed, almost afraid of what Bob's answer might be. Jules was afraid, too, but the feeling of Scout's hand in hers was the thing keeping her from holding her hands over her ears, hoping it would all just go away.      Bob's chest heaved as he had his head turned away while Sasha clung to his hand. "Gareth said they drove off." Jules's relief was short lived as Bob started grunting and groaning in pain.      "In the first aid kit," Jules breathed, her hand dropping from her mouth as she stared down at Bob worriedly. "There's . . there should be pills in there. It'll help."      Sasha nodded at Jules appreciatively, someone else moving to get them, only to freeze at Bob's voice. "Save 'em."      "No," Sasha whispered, shaking her head, her breath caught in her throat.      "Really," Bob double downed through gritted teeth, shaking his head at Sasha, who looked seconds away from breaking down into tears. The sight had Jules's heart clenching, making her want to turn away, but she couldn't.       Nobody moved. Nobody said anything as Bob began sitting up, pulling down his shirt slightly, revealing a deep gash running across his shoulder blade. No, not a gash. A bite.       "It happened at the food bank," he breathed, his eyes locked on Sasha's, who stared back blankly, like she didn't want to believe her eyes. It was when sniffles came from Bob's lips as he fell back that Jules had to turn away, eyes squeezing shut.      A pained smile rested on Sasha's lips as she shook her head. "It's okay," she whispered.      "There's a sofa in my office," Gabriel offered gently, speaking up. "I know it's not much, but . . . "      Sasha looked over her shoulder at the man, nodding slowly. "Thank you," she murmured.      As everyone stood and as Bob was moved to Gabriel's office, Rick asked Maggie if he had a fever. She said he didn't, and Glenn mentioned that Jim, all the way back at the start of everything, had lasted two days before they had to leave him.       Judith erupted into cries, quickly trying to be shushed by Carl as he held her basket, moving her away from the seriousness of the conversation.       "Time for a reality check," Abraham started from the far end of the room by the doors. Jules had a feeling she knew what this was about, and she wanted to glare at him for his insensitivity to the situation, but she couldn't find it in her. "We all need to leave for DC right now."      "Are you kidding me?" Jules scoffed, now finding it in her to scowl at the redhead. "Leaving in the middle of the night would be stupid."      "There's a threat," Abraham huffed lowly, squinting at the brunette. "We'd have to travel at night, anyway. Doesn't matter when we leave."      Rick shot the girl a look before she could say anything else, as if to calmly suggest she stay out of the conversation, before trying to mediate the conflict. "Daryl and Carol are gonna be back. We're not going anywhere without them."      "I respect that, but like I said, there's a clear threat here to Eugene. I need to extract his ass before things get any uglier. So if y'all won't come, good luck to you," Abraham answered quickly, clutching this gun to his chest. "We'll go our separate ways."       And, with that, Abraham turned on his heels, moving to the door. "You leaving on foot?" Rick shot back knowingly.       Abraham paused, whirling back around irritably. "We fixed that damn bus ourselves."      Rick marched up to Abraham, shaking his head. "There are a lot more of us."      "You want to keep it that way? You should come with us," Abraham persuaded, lifting his chin in the air as Rosita stood next to him.      "Carol saved your life. We saved your life," Rick countered, shaking his head.      "Well, I am trying to save yours!" Abraham scoffed loudly, jaw clenched. "Save everyone's."      Rick paused momentarily, composing himself, before answering in a hushed voice, "We're not going anywhere without our people."      "Your people took off."      "They're coming back," Rick gritted out.      "To what, picked-over bones?!" Abraham shouted, his anger growing, as he threw a hand up.       "You're not taking—" Rick started, reaching out for Abraham, only for the latter to angrily cut him off and shove him away, "Do not lay your hand!"      "Abraham!" Rosita yelled, trying to diffuse the situation, but to no avail. The two men's voice rose as they argued, and Jules released her hand from Scout's grip, now holding her hands over her ears. She didn't want to listen to this, to all of the yelling and fighting. Not with everything that's been happening.      Glenn stepped in between them, stopping it. "Hey, hey! Stop, now!" The room fell silent as Glenn turned to look at Abraham. "Do you really think that you're gonna be any safer leaving right now in the middle of the night?"      "Yeah . . yeah," Abraham answered quietly, looking away, though his voice hadn't held the previous bravado.      "What about tomorrow?" Glenn questioned, trying to reason with the man. "We need each other for this. We need each other to get to DC. We can get through all of it together."      Jules swallowed thickly while her hands fell back to her sides as Tara spoke up. "I have an idea. If you stay just one more day and help, I'll go with you to DC no matter what. Okay?"      Tara looked at Maggie and Jules for confirmation, the latter averting her gaze to the floor instead. "Glenn, Maggie, and Scout, too," Abraham proclaimed after a few moments of silence.       Juliette's eyes went wide with fear and nervousness, glancing at the boy next to her, who hardly seemed faze, and that only made her worry more. There was no way Scout would agree to going, right? "No," Rick spoke, shaking his head, and Jules almost breathed a sigh of relief. At least that way there was no possibility of Scout agreeing to leave her. Then Jules cringed, waving those thoughts away. Scout could do whatever he wanted.      "I'm not interest in breaking up what you have here," Abraham concluded, before turning around. "Rosita, grab your gear."      "Abraham—" Rosita protested, though her voice was too small.      "Eugene, let's go." Eugene didn't look up at him, still silently sitting in a pew. "Eugene, now. Move it."      "I don't want to," Eugene denied, continuing to not meet the man's eyes.       "Now," he replied in a much lower, almost threatening tone. This made Eugene give in, the man slowly standing.       As Abraham walked down the aisle, Rick used the same tone Abraham had just used. "You're not taking that bus."      "Try and stop me."      It was silent for a long way, eyes darting between Rick and Abraham who didn't move. That is, until Rick began stepping forward, only to be cut off by Glenn yet again.       "Hey, hey!" Glenn shoved Rick away, looking between the two heated men. "You stay—you stay and help us, and we will go with you."      "No," Rick quickly repeated, shutting it down.      "It's not your call," Glenn answered, shaking his head, before turning back to Abraham. "You stay. Help us."      Abraham thought about it for a moment, looking off to the side, before slowly nodding. "Half a day. Come high noon, we're taillights. I'm not waiting for the other damn shoe to drop."      "And we will leave with you," Maggie confirmed shakily with a nod. Jules watched her in silence.      Everyone's attention then shifted to Scout, the last one apart of Abraham's condition who had yet to speak up. He looked down at his shoes, jaw clenched. "I . . I don't think I can . . . "      Abraham watched him for a moment, weighing his options. "Fine. Tara, Maggie, and Glenn."      It was all settled.             end of iv.   shoes on grass ▬▬

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chapter five.   do what you can ﹙season five, episode three﹚four walls and a roof                 "WHY'D YOU SAY NO?" Juliette questioned quietly, looking down at her hands laying in her lap. It had been silent in the church before she spoke, no sounds being exchanged momentarily while Sasha and Bob sat in another room.      Scout turned his head to look at her, catching on to what she was asking him right away. He released a small sigh that only Jules could have picked up on. "Honestly, I'm not sure why Abraham wanted me to go in the first place. He never really saw me in combat, so I guess he thought I could be a good fighter, since . . I dunno, I have some muscle. Which, I'm not great at using my gun, and hand-to-hand combat isn't common now, I'd just be in the way. Useless."      She nodded slowly as she picked at her nails, filled with dirt and grime, almost making her grimace if her mind hadn't been elsewhere. As she listened to him, she couldn't help but feel a weird sense of . . disappointment. She should be relieved, happy even that her best friend wasn't going to leave. And that she, too, didn't have to go to Washington, DC.      But she didn't. His answer didn't satisfy her. "Oh," Jules replied with a shrug of her shoulders.      Scout knew her well, and he could tell that something was off, but he didn't question it. "Yeah. I think Abraham was only okay with it 'cause he thinks I'm like, fifteen. Well—I am only two years older than that, but . . . " His poor attempt at lightening the mood was lost on her.      Jules shifted in her spot, sucking on her teeth. She didn't know what else to see, and her mind was a whirling mix of Bob. He sat just in the next room over, on his deathbed. He must have been in so much pain, but at least he had Sasha next to him.      As Jules grew silent once again, like she often did, Scout continued staring at her, looking conflicted. "I—Um, said no for another reason, too." As he caught her attention once more, he looked away. "Abraham would be crazy to think I'd leave you." Jules blinked at him, and immediately did he backtrack. "Well, you and Michonne. You guys are my best friends."      The girl felt her body relaxing, her shoulders releasing the tension from them. If she could, she would have been smiling right now.      "I'm glad you decided to stay," Jules answered, voice small, pulling her knees up to her chest, hugging them with her arms. "It's hard enough that Glenn and Maggie are going."      Scout nodded, looking over at where Maggie and Glenn stood. "As long as I can help it, I won't leave, okay?" he voiced lowly, glancing at her.       Jules met his gaze for the first time that night, shaking her head. "We're stuck with each other," she answered, smiling lightly. Scout returned the smile.      A few moments of silence passed between them as Jules stared at a lit candle not far from them. The silence was broken soon after. "You know that weird feeling I get?"      Jules glanced at him. "The one you get when you feel like something bad is going to happen?"      Scout shook his head in reply. "Yeah. For some reason, I'm not feeling it right now."            𝜗𝜚            THE ROOM FELT DEAD. No sound but Carl's fingers tapping against the holster strapped around his waist. Juliette sat up against the wall, keeping a close eye on Judith, making sure the young girl didn't squirm or cry during such a desperate time.      The clock on Bob's life was ticking as he laid in the corner on a mattress. It was all because of Terminus that he was this way.       Jules tried to ignore the trembling of her hands, the way her body shook. She dismissed it with the chill of the night, but it had to have been summer, so it couldn't have been that. She was scared. She was scared for her life, for everyone around her, too. She didn't want anyone else to meet the same fate that Bob did.       But she had to trust Rick. Jules could hear the rest of the group step out of the church, until their footsteps could no longer be heard from the locked and dark room she sat in.       No amount of thoughts of puppies or rainbows and everything else happy could calm her racing and aching heart. This time, Scout wasn't there with her. She wasn't able to cling onto his hand when moments grew tough and terrifying. Jules felt so silly for relying on something like that to keep her sane: something that had no guarantee of always being there, and now she was facing the repercussions.       It felt like it had been years since she felt so scared and helpless. But it hadn't. It had been hardly a day ago where she sat in a lonesome dark room, completely confused and lost on what was going on around her. She doesn't like this reoccurring theme.      Just as Juliette sucked in a deep breath, she felt it. She felt the air still. Then, she heard the footsteps. Carl's gun cocking knocked her out of her thoughts, and she knew she, too, had a job to do. She wouldn't let Carl handle it alone.      She feigned bravery as she stood, clutching her bow tightly in her hands, pulling back the string, aiming it at the closed door alongside Carl. The girl turned to him, who looked antsy and nervous, and he looked back. She gave him a curt nod, hoping he'd get the message she was trying to convey: you're not alone.       All of Jules's senses were standing on end, craning her neck to hear every last noise. She could hear the shuddering breathing of Gabriel from behind her, the sound of Carl's gun ever so slightly shaking in his hands. She could hear the way Rosita and Eugene subtly shifted from their spots along the wall, the former itching to do something, but remaining in her spot. She could hear Tyreese's breath, not far behind her where he crouched in front of Bob's exhausted form. Then, she heard a voice coming from the other side.      "Well, guess you know we're here," the voice started, a sick casualness to his tone. She hadn't heard his voice before, but she could only assume who it was. Gareth. "And we know you're here. And we're armed. So there's really no point in hiding anymore."      Jules didn't falter. She couldn't. Ever since the start of it all, dating all the way back to that sticky summer, she's been useless. She didn't like admitting it, but she hadn't done anything to contribute to her group. Sure, back when Hershel was alive, he taught her a thing or too on how to handle wounds. But that only got her so far.      She refused to be useless, to just sit back and let other people fight for her, to freeze up when moments got hard like she usually did. If Rick's plan went south and didn't work, she would do anything she could to get everyone out of this room safely. Even though the thought of that made her sick to her stomach. She would try, for them.      The floorboards creaked under the infiltrators shoes. "We've been watching you," the voice taunted again. "We know who's here. There's Bob, unless you put him out of his misery already. And Eugene. Rosita. Martin's good friend, Tyreese. Sweet Juliette. Carl. Judith."      Jules squeezed her eyes shut. He was spot on. Everyone he listed was right there in that room, fearing for their lives.       "Rick and the rest walked out with a lot of your guns." Her heart fell more and more with each creak of the floorboards. "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."      The door handles began rattling. The sound echoed through Jules's ears, and she saw the way Rosita sprung up, her own gun at the ready. Jules forced her eyes to open again.      "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." A gun cocked, loudly. "How about the priest? Father, you help us wrap this up, we'll let you walk away from this."      Jules made sure her breath didn't hitch as her gaze snapped down to where Gabriel sat, fire in her eyes. After hearing the man's confessions prior, Jules knew he prioritized himself over others when the situation called for it.      "Just open the door and you can go. You can take the baby with you. What do you say?" his voice wasn't right in front of the door they were behind. He must have been in front of the opposite door.      Gabriel sat with his hands clasped together in front of his mouth, unmoving. Jules would have been grateful, or maybe relieved, until Judith began wailing. Jules dropped to her knees, uncaring as her bow skidded across the floor. She immediately tried to do anything in her power to get the baby to stop, but she knew it was too late.       As more guns cocked, Jules could only assume everyone with Gareth had their guns pointing to their room. The wooden door between them would do nothing to protect them from the bullets. At least Judith had quieted down. Jules's legs felt like jelly as she forced herself to stand.      "It's your last chance right now to tell us you're coming out." There was then a murmur between the outsiders that Jules couldn't pick up on.       When she began thinking that it was over, that Gareth had caught them, and Rick's plan wasn't full proof, those worries vanished when silent bullets whirled through the air, connecting with the people standing outside of their door.       Jules's legs gave out on her from the sheer dizziness in her head. They were safe now. She didn't need to worry anymore.      "Put your guns on the floor," the familiarity of Rick's voice rung out against the walls of the church.       Quickly, Gareth replied, "Rick, we'll fire right into that office, so you lower your gun—" Another bullet cut through the air, and Jules could hear a pained gasp emit from Gareth, followed by someone following to the ground.       "Put your guns on the floor, and kneel."      Jules covered her ears and closed her eyes.            𝜗𝜚            BLOOD STAINED THE FLOOR. They killed Gareth and his group.       It no longer looked like a church. Not that it ever had been since everything started.      Everyone stood around Bob's makeshift bed, his body illuminated by the light. They were all saying goodbye, because there was no way to reverse what had happened to the man.       After Maggie had said her farewells, it was Jules turn. The girl's eyes were trained on the floor as she forced her legs to shuffle over to his bed. She couldn't bring herself to look at him until she was right above him.      She felt sick as she watched him. His face looked dead, like he was barely hanging on by a thread. It reminded the girl of the sickness that broke out back at the prison, turning people into them within a day's notice.      Despite being hours, or maybe minutes away from dying, despite losing a leg earlier that day, and despite having a huge gash in the side of his neck, Bob held a smile. It was a tired one, but it was still there. It still showed Bob's humor and lightheartedness.       "Juliette," he started, voice slightly hoarse and scratchy, though his smile never fell. Jules tried to smile. She couldn't tell if she was or not. "You're a good kid. I'm thankful we got to meet each other."      Jules could feel a burning and tightness in her throat. "I'm thankful, too, Bob."      Bob snickered lightly. "You're young and strong. You've got a long way ahead of you. Don't go dying, alright?"      Bob was trying to find the good in the situation. Jules could only nod. "You didn't deserve this," she offered, before turning on her shoes, following behind everyone else making an exit. Sasha was the last one out. Bob was no more.      Jules felt a sense of deja vu the next morning as she stood outside on the steps to the church, saying her goodbyes to the team leaving on the trip to DC. She watched as Glenn and Maggie stepped onto that bus. Tara, Rosita, Eugene, and Abraham, too. She hadn't known the others for a while, but with what they had all been through, she felt a small connection to them.      Abraham gave a map to Rick. It was a route of their trip and destination. Jules hoped Daryl and Carol would return soon, Beth too, and maybe the rest of them could follow. Then, Eugene would save the world.       Jules glanced over her shoulder as the bus disappeared from view, instead watching as Tyreese worked tirelessly, digging a grave.             end of v.   do what you can ▬▬

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chapter six.   up and down ﹙season five, episode seven - eight﹚crossedcoda              THAT DAY FELT STRANGE. She had no obligations, and nothing of importance that she had been tasked to do. She paced around the church a dozen times, and when she got bored of that, she cracked open a book.      After reading two hundred pages, she felt her find turning to mush, forgetting the world around her. Now, she sat with Judith in her arms, rocking the baby back and forth for her own entertainment. But, even that couldn't keep Jules still forever.      She was thankful when both Rick and Scout walked back inside of the large church doors, having been outside since the sun came back up. Rick smiled gratefully at Jules as she handed his baby over to him, though the smile hadn't quite reached his eyes. She didn't have to pry to know why it didn't.      She thought for a moment before she would get up to talk to Scout. She wasn't sure if it was one sided or not, but lately she felt as though conversations didn't flow so easily between the two of them anymore. Not since the tunnel when they reunited with Maggie.       Maybe it was because of everything going on, or something she didn't want to admit, but she didn't like it. She could only hope they would go back to normal soon.      Ignoring her worries, Juliette moved to where the other boy was, leaning over his bag, shuffling around inside of it with his hands. "Hey," she voiced as soon as she grew close, not wanting to startle him. "What were you doing with Rick?"      He turned, an uneven smile on his lips. "Finally learned how to properly use a gun. Both big and small. Apparently I've got a knack when it comes to using long-distance ones. Rick said I'm a fast learner."      Humming, Jules sat next to his bag on the long bench. "I guess that's good. I just hope none of us will have to use any of our weapons for a while."      Scout shrugged his shoulders as he zipped up the bag, before lifting it and putting it on the ground, taking its spot on the pew. "I was scared shitless last night. Rick handed me a gun I've never even seen before. I really didn't want to use it. I got lucky, though."      Jules nodded in agreement, thinking back to just the night before when she, too, was scared for her life, wondering what she would have to do to keep living for another day. "If you had to . . would you kill someone?" The question had clearly caught the boy off guard, his head whipping around to look at her with raised eyebrows. "Sorry—That's a really dark question and it's totally out of the blue—"      "If it came down to it, I guess I'd have to, right?" he cut her off, looking away as he sucked in a short breath. "Honestly, I can't even imagine myself pulling the trigger on someone. I used to play hockey for my high school, you know? And now the possibility of having to kill someone for the greater good is constantly lurking."      "I couldn't imagine myself doing that, either," she answered softly, pursing her lips. She didn't know what it was, but every time she spoke to the boy, she felt so seen. "Killing biters is one thing, but another living person? It'd haunt me forever."      Scout released another breath, a cross between a huff and a sigh as he shook his head. "I don't really want to talk about this depressing stuff right now. Too much stuff has been going on . . . Let's talk about something else."      "Like what? Puppies?" Jules questioned, tone a little snippy as she glanced at him unimpressed. Scout's expression fell as he watched her, rolling his eyes subtly before he stood and sauntered away, not before grabbing his bag. Jules rolled her eyes at his dramatic exit, though he wasn't even there to see it.      Seconds later, she could hear his voice calling for her. She looked up, watching him stand by the door of one of the two rooms. "You coming or what?"      She didn't know what this was about or what he was going to do, but she listened, ignoring the questioning glance shot at them from Carl.      "What are we doing in here?" Jules asked as they entered the room, the one Jules had all of her things in. She leaned against the desk in the middle of the small room, crossing her arms as Scout closed the door behind them.      He didn't say anything for a few moments, setting down his backpack, not meeting her gaze. She shifted in her spot uncomfortably, fully aware that it was just them in that room. Why did it have to feel so weird between them? Why did it feel like the room was closing in on them, forcing the two to get even closer? No, she was just being silly. She was overthinking this. She could only hope the awkwardness she felt didn't show on her face, because Scout seemed completely fine.      "Scout, seriously, what are we doing in here?" she asked again, her tone more demanding as her jaw clenched. When he looked back up at her, looking more confused than ever, she faltered. Until a devious glint shone in his eyes.      "I just wanted to talk. Everyone else still looked pretty down, so I didn't want to be insensitive," he quipped, cocking his head to the side while raising an eyebrow. Jules squinted at him skeptically. "Why're you so worried? What'd you think I brought you in here to do?"      Dumbfounded, Jules's jaw fell, before she looked away from him. A few thoughts came to mind, but she would never admit them. "I wasn't thinking anything. I just thought it was weird, that's all."      "Why would it be weird?" he pried, a small smirk lingering on his lips. Jules knew he was just messing with her, but it wasn't like she just couldn't respond. If she didn't, she'd only appear more guilty. Guilty of what, even?       "Stop that," Jules replied with a scoff, quickly averting her gaze as she weakly defended herself. She's never really interacted with boys much before prior because she never had the time to think about such affairs while taking care of Rory, and now she was facing the consequences.      "Stop what?" He took a step closer, and Jules was now hyper aware of her beating heart. "You gotta tell me what's wrong, Jules. I don't know what I'm doing wrong if you don't talk to me."      "You're being weird," Jules pointed out plainly, forcing a smile on her lips, trying not to react so she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of getting to her. "And you know why bringing me in here could be seen as weird."      "You think I'd bring you in here for something like that?"      Jules looked at him, unamused. "You seem to really enjoy the whole Romeo and Juliet thing. I wouldn't put it past you."      Scout shrugged his shoulders, not trying to defend himself as he sat on the desk next to her. If she looked close enough, she could almost see hurt on his face. "Well, that was definitely not my intentions. I just wanted to hangout, and I felt horrible every time a laugh slipped out 'cause Sasha shoots me a glare. Which is why I thought it was more appropriate to talk her. So, uh, you don't have to be so worried."      Slight guilt washed over Jules as she listened to him speak. She felt stupid for even thinking such things in the first place, because Scout wouldn't try anything like that. Not with everything happening.      And, to top it all off, her body language seemed to convey she was very against the idea of anything ever happening between them. If she was being honest, she hadn't given things like that with him any thought. Sure, she had recently come to terms with the fact that he is very attractive, and he's funny, and nice, and always makes her feel better, and . . whatever, but it wasn't like she pictured anything between them. Okay, maybe once or twice in the dead of night when she couldn't sleep, but that was normal, right? Teenage hormones.      If he had tried to kiss her right then and there, she doesn't think she'd want to. She probably would push him away. Not because she doesn't like the idea of kissing him, but because it's too soon. Too soon since everything went down in the gutter. It wouldn't be right. She didn't want it to happen like that. She'd rather experience something like that when their group finally managed to find peace and comfort somewhere. So, that way, it would be more enjoyable, because she can't remember the last time she got the chance the brush her teeth.      Feeling conflicted as she looked at his expression, something akin to that of a kicked puppy, she tried to think of a way to tell him that she wasn't totally against the idea, without outright saying it.       "Look, Scout . . if you ever wanted to do something like that . . . " she started, immediately cringing at her choice of words because she acted like saying the word kiss was so taboo, but it was too late to take them back. "I . . . Right now is just really not the time."      She couldn't see his face since she was looking away, and she didn't really want to, to save herself from the embarrassment of this conversation. "I know it's not a good time," he answered after a while, biting the insides of his cheeks. "I was being serious when I said I wasn't going to try anything."      Jules glanced at him, visibly relaxing as she gave him a small smile. He returned it with a smile of his own. "So . . are we okay, now?" she questioned lowly, raising one of her hands for him to shake it. "I don't like this awkward air that's been around us."      He chuckled lightly with a nod of his head, reaching out to shake her hand. "For sure." He paused, before asking cheekily, "Does that mean I still have a chance in the future?" Her cheeks burned as she laughed in reply. It felt nice to laugh.            𝜗𝜚            THE NEXT DAY FELT even stranger. His name was Noah. He wasn't Beth Greene. He wasn't the blonde girl Juliette wanted so desperately to see. Though Noah wasn't Beth, he had information. Beth was alive. Carol, too. He knew exactly where they were, and that brought hope to Jules.     In order to find Beth and Carol, they had to travel to Atlanta. Once again, just like the last time, Rick recited a speech about how he needed her to stay back for Carl's sake.      She had been hammering a nail into one of the pieces of wood against a window. Rick voiced her name, and she stopped, turning to look at him. An apologetic smile rested on his face.       "You haven't had much to do these last few days," he pointed out the obvious, crossing his arms and leaning against the outside of the church's walls. Jules's lips formed a line as she looked back at the window. "I know it's hard on you."      "So you're going to let me go with you?" Jules questioned, glancing at him once more. She had a feeling she already knew the answer. He wants her to stay.      With a sigh, Rick looked down momentarily. "It'd make me feel better if I knew you were here. If things went wrong here, your help would smooth it over easier. I have trust in that." Jules didn't answer. "If not for me, do it for Carl. Judith." Ouch. Rick knew just how to sway her.      After a few moments of no reply, Jules released a breath, before slowly nodding her head. "I'll stay. But that means you have to come back, okay?"      Rick's smile grew as he squeezed her shoulder, a new habit of his that he often did to her. She found that it brought her comfort. "Of course. It won't be so bad. Michonne's staying, too." The thought lifted her spirits slightly.       Jules swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked down at his hand. "You'll bring Beth back, right?" she asked, her voice quiet. Rick pursed his lips, removing his hand.      "We'll try."      And, that was that. Back to feeling useless. But at least Rick was happy, and at least they'd be getting Beth back.      Because their group was being cut in half yet again, Rick deemed it the safest if they were to board the church up. So Jules watched as Sasha tore apart the benches, wielding an axe. With each slash, she let out a yell. It wasn't one out of strain on her body, but anger and pain.      Wooden panels clung to the windows, insuring nothing could get through that way. Metal poles and spikes stuck out by the porch, much like they did back at the prison, to ward off unwanted dead people.      Jules barely had the chance to greet Daryl, because the moment he returned with a new friend named Noah, who was around the girl's age, he was going off with them to Atlanta. It wasn't his fault that he wasn't Beth. It wasn't his fault that they had to go all the way to Grady Memorial's hospital in order to get Carol and Beth. She tried to remind herself of those facts, but she couldn't help herself feel sour every time she glanced at the new boy.      Now, she stood in front of the doors, watching as everyone who was going on the small trip slung backpacks over their shoulders, a gun strapped to their chests. Scout stood closest to her, standing right in the doorway, clutching the straps of his bag like a student did on their first day of school.       "If you die, I'll kill you," Jules threatened, though her tone held no real malice as she tilted her chin up to look at him.       Shooting her a thumbs-up, he nodded with a smile. "I wouldn't dream of it. I already know you can't survive without me." She hated that he was probably right.      With one last wave exchanged between her and the rest of the group leaving, Rick pulled the large church doors closed, signaling their exit. The church felt cold as the darkness took over despite it being day. Curtesy of the boards against the windows. Almost immediately did Judith erupt into tears, and Jules quickly took the little girl out of Michonne's hands, so her and Carl could board up the front door. Hammers against the door seemed to only fuel Judith's agitation, and no amount of swaddling and cooing would get the girl to stop.       Like yesterday, Jules started by pacing laps around the church. Maybe she'd see something interesting she hadn't noticed the day before, or the day before that. Nothing worth studying came up.       The sounds of desperate scrubbing filled the church's air. Jules noted the nervous sweat coating Gabriel's face as he sat crouched, trying to remove the blood stains from the floor. It was no use.       Maybe half an hour later, Carl asked Jules for a favor. Not that she minded; it did give her something to do, after all. He had asked her to help him train Gabriel in combat. If Gabriel were to choose a weapon Jules was more skilled in, she'd teach him. If he were to choose a weapon Carl was more capable with, such as something like a gun, Carl would teach Gabriel.      Jules and Carl splayed out a bunch of weapons on the floor in front of where Gabriel sat. The weapons varied from big and small knives, to small and big guns. Last but not least, Jules planted her bow on the floor.      "Pick one," Carl instructed plainly, staring down at the man. "You need to learn how to defend yourself. Jules and I can teach you."      Gabriel didn't look up. Jules continued, "You should learn how to use a gun and a knife. You'll find yourself in situations where you can't use a gun, and vice versa."      Finally, Gabriel paused, a strained and fake smile on his lips as he looked up at the duo. "Defend myself?" he started. "They said they'd go."      "They were liars and murderers," Carl scoffed, shaking his head at Gabriel's reply.       "Just like us," Gabriel countered, averting his gaze briefly as the words left his parted lips. Jules narrowed her eyes.      "We were on defense. It was to protect ourselves," Jules answered, annoyed with the comparison. "We're trying to help you, so you don't end up in a ditch somewhere."      Carl sighed, glancing at the girl as if to tell her to tone it down, before looking back down at Gabriel. "You're lucky your church has lasted this long. You can't stay in one place anymore. Not for too long. And once you're out there, you're going to find trouble you can't hide from. You need to know how to fight. Like Jules said, we want to help."      Gabriel picked up a long and sharp blade: a machete. As Carl began a long plethora of how to use it, and why you had to use it that way, with an unnecessary detailed explanation of how walkers don't always have soft skulls, Gabriel visibly paled before excusing himself.      They watched him briskly walk away. As much as Gabriel's actions annoyed her, she could understand where he was coming from. At the Start, the whole idea of it made Jules feel sick, too. She doesn't think she killed any of them for a while into It.      "He just needs time," Jules spoke aloud the obvious. "When he realizes the depth of this, he'll come around."      Gabriel was hiding out in the room that Jules had barely claimed as her own, so she was forced to sit on a bench next to Michonne, staring down at her hands.            𝜗𝜚            "WOULD YOU RATHER . . HAVE a pet seal or a pet penguin?" Juliette questioned Michonne and Carl, all three of them, well, four including Judith, sitting alongside each other on a pew. An amused expression took over Michonne's features, while a breathy laugh left Carl.      "A penguin," Michonne answered almost immediately, pretending to ponder the very serious question.       Jules smiled, looking up at her. "Why's that?"      Michonne only shrugged her shoulders in reply. "No reason. As long as it's one of those small penguins."      She giggled lightly in reply, before turning to look at Carl, who sat on her other side. "What about you, Carl? A seal or penguin?"      Carl clearly wasn't impressed as he raised his eyebrows at her, though there was still a smile on his face. "Is neither an option?"      "Ruining all the fun," Michonne replied, shaking her head as she tutted. "Would you rather . . . " Before Michonne was able to continue their charade, the sounds of shouting, presumably from Gabriel, came from . . outside?      Michonne held Judith, exchanging confused and worried looks with Carl and Jules, only to shove Judith into Carl's arms as she jumped out of her seat. "Gabriel was just . . . " Jules mumbled frantically as they sprinted over to the room he had been staying in for the past few hours. Lo and behold as the door was slung open, Gabriel was nowhere to be seen. Jules did, however, pick up on the floorboards that had been pulled up.      "Carl! Jules! Michonne!" Gabriel cried, the sound coming from the outside of the bolted door, followed by the groans and moans of walkers. "I get it now!"      As Michonne stayed back gathering their weapons in the room, Carl set Judith down in the room as well, before following Jules and trying to pry off the board on the door. It was proving to be useless, so Michonne told them to step back, and she slung an axe against the wood.       Jules could only stand there helplessly as she continued to witness Gabriel's screams of bloody murder. She could only wonder just how many walkers were standing with him, and she assumed it had to be a lot judging by the amount of sounds accumulating from them.       Her heart leapt in her chest as she quickly moved forward once the board had fallen, pulling the doors open. Gabriel immediately stumbled inside, his breathing labored. It seemed the Gabriel was managing to hold off the walkers, but now that his back was turned and he was inside, there was nothing holding them back.      Carl fired a few bullets at the biters closest to them, fear stricken on his face as more and more of them began tumbling up the porch steps. "Get back!" Michonne commanded once more, and Jules was more than happy to oblige, seeing as she lacked any weapons on her.       The four of them helplessly stepped backwards in the church's aisle, with Michonne in front of them, wielding her katana. But that could only do so much, and the amount of walkers was growing. Jules didn't stare long enough at them to gauge how many there were, but it had to be over twenty.      "The rectory, come on!" Gabriel stepped up, and immediately everyone turned and ran for the door in the church, hauling it open. Jules slammed her weight into the door once more, shoving it closed and holding her body against it, trying not to freeze up at the sight of fingers wiggling from the other side. Gabriel turned and looked at the pried up floorboards when it was clear they wouldn't be able to stay in there forever. "That's how I got out. Crawl under to the back. Just go! Take the little one and go."      Jules didn't have the time to be surprised with Gabriel's sudden heroism, instead hurriedly reaching into Michonne's bag and taking out whatever weapon she could get her hands on as Carl grabbed Judith. She pulled out a sharp knife. It was short, but she didn't have time to get something else.      As Carl and Jules moved down the steps in the floorboard, a hand on her shoulder caused the two to pause. "You two wait for me, okay?" Michonne said, and they nodded in response, before scrambling away.       The two of them waited and waited after crawling out from the underneath of the church, until finally Michonne crawled out as well. The girl wondered why she still grew worried for Michonne, because well, it's Michonne. She'd always find a way out.      Though, some of Jules's worries seemed to diminish at the sight of Michonne standing next to them once more, but there was no sight of Gabriel.      They waited a little more. A bloodied machete was the first to make an exit, followed by the trembling man himself. As he got out, panting, hands on his knees, he mumbled, "I cannot run anymore."      Michonne shook her head. "We're not running." Without wasting time, they stealthily made their way around the church back to the entrance, Carl killing off the couple of stragglers by the porch with a knife. Jules took the lead as she stepped up the stairs, reaching for one of the opened doors, while Michonne reached for the other one. At the sound, the walkers inside immediately craned their heads to look, only for the two of them to slam the doors shut.       Jules ran down the steps, grabbing wooden boards that had been strung across the grass, before handing them to the three awaiting. They hammered nails into the boards as fast as they could, securing the door shut.       The four of them backed up, watching the doors for what felt like hours. Their efforts of securing the door felt futile as the wood snapped, falling off the door. The gap in between the doors was widening, now being able to see the walkers inside. Jules swallowed thickly as she clutched her cleaver.      "Where do we go?" Carl asked, a slight shake to his voice, but no one had an answer.      As if a god had answered them, the sound of a vehicle approaching caused them all to whip their heads around. Jules expected Rick and the rest of the gang, maybe coming back early after running into an incident, but she was left even more shocked as a firetruck came straight towards the church's porch, crushing it to smithereens while also barricading the front doors.       As the engine cut off, Abraham stepped out, followed by Glenn and Maggie. Tara and Rosita stepped out the back. Releasing a breath, Jules lunged forward, her feet carrying her to where Maggie and Glenn stood. As Michonne hugged Maggie, Jules wrapped her arms around Glenn instead, who looked utterly as confused as Jules did.       "You're . . . " Jules started, in disbelief as she pulled away from Glenn's embrace slightly, eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you back?" She realized how broad the question seemed after she said it, but didn't rephrase herself.      Glenn, almost looking guilty, or maybe it was hurt, answered quietly, looking between everyone, "Eugene lied." Jules's expression immediately fell, as did the rest of the church group. "He can't stop it. Washington isn't the end."      Jules looked to Maggie for confirmation, hoping it was just some sick joke Glenn decided to play on them, but she remembered how much Glenn had matured since the Beginning, and Maggie only solemnly nodded at Jules.       She felt sick. "Where is everybody?" Glenn demanded instead, filling the tense void as he glanced around.       Michonne didn't answer right away, looking at Maggie instead, a smile on the former's lips. "Beth's alive. She's in a hospital in Atlanta. Some people have her, but the others went to get her back."      Releasing a shaky breath of relief, Maggie asked, "Do we know which one?"      "It's Grady Memorial," Jules answered, the relief on Maggie's face causing the girl to smile.      "Oh, my God," Maggie breathed, her hands shaking as a smile crossed her lips. She pulled Jules into a hug, laughter spilling from their lips, before she hugged Glenn.       The rest of the group couldn't keep the smiles off their faces, and suddenly the knowledge that there was no cure didn't matter to Jules. "Let's blow this joint, go save your sister," Tara mused, looking to Maggie.       She lost a bit of hope finding out Eugene was lying, but the prospect of getting Beth back seemed to fill that void..             end of vi.   up and down ▬▬

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chapter seven.   at my darkest hour ﹙season five, episode eight - nine﹚codawhat happened and what's going on              THIS COULDN'T BE REAL.       Beth Greene wasn't dead.      Juliette Graves had to be dreaming.      It wasn't real. Daryl wasn't carrying her lifeless body out. She had to have been walking out of that hospital on her own two feet.      If it wasn't real, then why did Maggie collapse to the paved road instead of running up to her little sister? If it wasn't real, why was there no laughter, or joy from reuniting?       That meant it had to be real since the only thing Jules could hear were the sobs of Maggie.      Juliette didn't get the chance to say goodbye.            𝜗𝜚            A GRAVE WAS DUG.      Juliette felt numb.      A funeral was held. Gabriel recited verses from the bible. Juliette didn't listen. She doesn't remember attending a funeral to begin with.       It felt as though she was wearing shoes that were too small for her. Like a blister had formed, and she felt it with every single step she took. A reminder of the grief she felt gnawing at her with every step.            𝜗𝜚            THEY WERE GOING TO Washington, DC. There still was no cure. But there was somewhere to go. Beth wanted to go there with Noah.       It made her sick to think that she'd be potentially going to a safe haven without Beth. Beth deserved to live out a normal, long life, as did everyone else. She didn't have that luxury.      Juliette knew Beth wouldn't want her to be so down, or to constantly grieve. She knew Beth would be there, telling her to get up and do something fun, or something worth doing. Maybe Juliette could. Just not right now.      The group all divided into a few separate cars. She got into a car with Glenn, Michonne, Rick, Tyreese, and Noah. She sat in between Rick and Michonne. She had spoken no words since it happened. No one expected her to.      It felt wrong. Juliette had to remind herself it's what Beth would have wanted for them, despite never getting to experience it for herself. She had planned to take them, and Noah. She'd have to ask Noah about Beth and their short time together. Anything to listen to stories about the blonde girl who once was.      She no longer held a grudge against Noah for having half the group split up to Atlanta. Beth seemed to enjoy Noah's presence, so Jules would learn to, as well.      She no longer dreaded going back to Washington, DC after being away from it for so long. She hardly had the time to stop and think about it, her mind clouded over, running slower than it usually did.       Five-hundred miles, they had traveled. Everything had gone by smoothly. Juliette didn't know if she should be worried about that or not.      They were close. So close. Tyreese, the driver, pulled into the woods, so they would now have to travel the rest of the way on foot. It was safety precautions, just in case, Rick said. Juliette knew what he meant.      Heavy feet dragged through the thicket, leaves pooling at their shoes as Noah leaded the way to safety. Juliette's gaze had been casted down, eyes locking in on a rotted dead body. A year ago it would have caused her to squirm, but she had grown used to sights like that. It no longer bothered her, for better or for worse.      After what felt like forever, they had come across a long wire strung between trees. As Juliette looked up, she noticed the multitude of wires wrapped around trees. "Your people do this?" Michonne had questioned as they eyed it.      "Wanted to. They must have," Noah answered shortly, and Juliette looked at him for the first time. Really looked at him. He had a limp. Like he had a blister from his shoes, too.      They ducked underneath the wiring, and Noah hissed in pain. A wire must have cut his forehead. Juliette could see Rick growing skeptical.      After a few paces, Rick garnered Noah's attention. "They have spotters? Snipers?" Juliette hadn't even thought about that. Not like she had been doing much thinking in the first place.      "We built a perch on a truck," Noah answered, seemingly unsure on how to answer. "Sometimes it's out front."      They were finally close enough to see it. Juliette squinted to get a better look, though it was hard to see anything but tall walls, fences, and trees covering everything. "Not today," Glenn pointed out, noting the lack of anyone on guard.      It was quiet. Almost eerie. Juliette decided not to dwell on it. According to Noah, there was only twenty people here.       They crossed a road, a few items thrown across it. A broken grandfather clock being one of them. Juliette bit her bottom lip as they came open the entrance. No sight of anyone.      Noah threw his fists against the closed gate, high enough to shield everyone's eyes away from whatever happened to be inside. Juliette could hear a faint sound of banging.      Glenn hopped up on the fence, scaling it in order to see inside, since the gate didn't seem to budge. As Glenn made his way to the top, looking over, everyone waited with baited breaths. Noah stared up at him with the most hope and anxiety.      Juliette could see the subtle shift in Glenn's expression. It was grim now, as he turned to look at Noah first, slightly shaking his head.      Whoever and whatever had been here before was no longer there.      Noah didn't seem to want to believe it. He wasted no time climbing the fence himself, pained and exasperated grunts filling the air as he jumped down on the opposite side. The others followed, and Juliette reluctantly climbed the fence, ignoring the ache in her body as she tumbled down the other side.       If she was sober, maybe Juliette would have had a reaction to the sight before her. Noah tumbling through the streets, pain in his eyes as he surveyed the area around him that he once called home. There was no sight of anyone, and the only indicator that there was people once here were the houses. Some of them had been burnt down.      Noah struggled on his two feet. Juliette knew he was ignoring the limp and ache in his body like she was. He was desperate to find somebody living as he stumbled around. "Noah, hold up!" Rick had tried, but Noah was too far into his own thoughts. As they glanced down, eyes catching on burnt bodies, Noah took off into a sprint. "Noah!"      Juliette didn't know much of what was going on. She felt like she was in a daze, a hand on her shoulder tugging her shoulder. She guessed it was Tyreese, or maybe Glenn, urging her to run with them in order to stick together.      She felt the imaginary blister in her imaginary too-small shoes as they came to a stop in an intersection. As they all swiveled around, looking for any signs of life from this supposed safe camp, they came up empty handed. Instead, a couple walkers lurked here and there. A multitude of dead bodies littered the streets as well. Trash and other debris thrown across. It was dead here.      At the end of a street, not far off, the fence had been broken down, like someone had taken a large vehicle and barreled right through. The amount of people dead . . . The burnt down houses . . . The random home decorations . . . Whatever happened wasn't an accident. Whatever happened wasn't because of the undead. It was because of the living.      Noah clutched his head, loud sobs filling the tense atmosphere as he helplessly paced around, in disbelief. He collapsed to the road soon after. Juliette could sympathize with him. She knew what he was feeling right then and there. To hope and hope for something, only to be disappointed in the end.       They had gone five-hundred miles away from Atlanta. They traveled all this way for nothing. They went here for Beth's wishes, to find a place where Noah came from, to stay here and live out the rest of their days safely. But it wasn't here anymore.       If Juliette had any tears left, she was sure she'd be on the ground right alongside Noah, crying her eyes out with that familiar cold weight in her heart. "I'm sorry, Noah. I truly am," Rick spoke softly, his jaw clenched as he bent down next to the boy. "We should see if there's anything we can use and head back."      "Then what?" Michonne snapped pointedly, a bitterness in her voice. It was necessarily directed at Rick himself, but at the situation. "They see us." Michonne didn't wait for a reply as she jogged over to the couple of walkers staggering a few hundred feet away from them.      "We could make a quick sweep," Glenn offered, before glancing at Juliette, who had been standing there motionlessly with clenched fists, staring at the individual houses. "Jules, you can come with me, okay?"      She didn't respond verbally, but did glance at him in acknowledgment. Tyreese nodded in agreement, looking to Rick. "I'll stay with him," he added, looking down towards Noah, who still cradled his head.       As they walked around, Juliette found herself walking with Michonne, instead of Glenn. She and Michonne wandered around an opened garage as Glenn and Rick discussed something Juliette couldn't hear. If she craned her neck enough, she could've, but she didn't have the energy to.      Michonne held up a shirt to Juliette, and if matters were different, the woman would have been smiling teasingly at the younger girl. The shirt was Juliette's size, and looked unused, but it had a very colorful design of a unicorn on the front. "You like it?"      Juliette glanced from Michonne and back down to the shirt, not gracing the woman with a reply as she turned away, trying to make herself more useful as she looked around the messy garage. Michonne, picking up on the mood, tossed the shirt aside, before tapping Juliette's shoulder. The girl turned to look at her, before abruptly being pulled into a hug.      "I know it's hard," Michonne started, her voice low and warm, like a cozy blanket shielding Juliette from the terror of the world. "It isn't fair; the pain won't go away. It'll still be there years from now. But you'll find a way to live with that grief."      She knew the pain would never go away. That the guilt was always lurking in her dreams every few nights. Despite the time that's gone by, she still thinks of Shane Walsh. Not as often, but he still rests in the back of her mind.      Juliette released a shaky breath as she squeezed her eyes shut, resting her head against Michonne's shoulder, before pulling away after a few more moments. "Thank you," Jules exhaled with a nod, her voice hoarse. She can't remember the last time she spoke.      Michonne took that as progress as she patted Jules's back twice with a nod, before joining back up with Rick and Glenn in the driveway. Jules joined them.      They made rounds throughout the houses, splitting up. Glenn and Jules now carrying a trash bag full of a few items that would prove to be useful to them. Jules was lucky enough to find a few clean shirts and jeans for herself. Seeing Michonne and Rick exit separate houses, the four came together once more, discussing their next course of action now that they had no plan.      "We could put some of the garage doors together against the break. Park a car against them until we can brick it up," Michonne had began, throwing a thumb over her shoulder at the garage doors. She was planning on everyone staying here. Rick glanced over her shoulder at the break in the fence, wincing. "It can work."      "This place is surrounded by a forest," Rick countered, a look of regret in his face. "There's no sight lines." Michonne heaved an aggravated exhale, beginning to walk towards the broken fence. The three others hurried after her. "Whoever, whatever, would be on top of us without even knowing it."      "That's what happened to them," Jules added, her voice monotone, only to feel guilty about her lack of empathy. She wouldn't have spoken like that if Noah were here. Rick glanced at her, nodding slowly.       "That's what happened to us." Glenn looked down at his dirtied shoes.       Michonne, determined to have somewhere to call home, threw her hands up as she moved to stand in front of them. "We can start taking down the trees. We use them to build the walls up." Glenn and Rick gave each other knowing looks, as if they didn't think Michonne's strategy would work out for them. With a scoff, she turned once more, walking over to the gate. "Look."      Jules wished she hadn't as they made their way to the broken fence. Greeting them on the other side was a sight that had her stomach churning more than it usually did. Halves of bodies were scattered around in the grass, like each and every one of them had been purposefully cut in half.       A hand on her shoulder directed her away from it, making her turn around so she wouldn't see. It was Glenn, looking just as pale as she must have been. After he was sure Jules wouldn't continue to stare at the mangled bodies, he looked to Rick.      "It doesn't matter," he spoke vaguely. Rick looked at him, puzzled. "You said you wondered if it mattered if you killed her or not. It doesn't matter if you had done it, or if I had, or that Daryl did. It doesn't matter." Jules didn't know for sure who they were talking about, but she had a guess. She didn't think too hard on it.      After a few beats of silence, Michonne spoke up once more, "Washington. Eugene lied about a cure, but he thought of Washington for a reason."      "But he was lying," Glenn repeated, unsure of where exactly Michonne was going with this.      "About the cure, but he did the math, and realized Washington was the place where there'd be a chance." Michonne was right, in a way. Even though Eugene had lied about there being a cure, there was no doubt in the girl's mind that Eugene was brilliant. "We're close." Rick sighed. "What if there are people there? Huh? What if there's someplace that we can be safe? We're a hundred miles away. It's a possibility. It's a chance. Instead of just being out here. Instead of just making it. Because right now, this is what making it looks like." Jules couldn't see Michonne, but she could hear the tremble in her voice, presumably gesturing to the mangled bodies. "Don't you want one more day with a chance?"       Before Rick was able to dignify her with an answer, the familiar sounds of walker growls sounded from the thick trees before them, and Jules whipped her body back around, taking out the knife hanging from her jeans.       "We should go," Rick said, noting the growing amount of walkers emerging from the trees. As Glenn and Jules turned to walk away, Rick continued, "It's a hundred miles away. We should go to Washington."      They were going to Washington—      "RICK! HELP, RICK! JULES, GLENN, MICHONNE!" Noah's shouts filled the air, and immediately they sprinted towards the source. The sound was faraway, and it worried Jules. With the state of this camp, anything could be happening to Noah and Tyreese. Had the people who destroyed everything come back for more? Why didn't Noah shout for Tyreese's help, too?         As they came upon the house where Noah was, crouched underneath a lawn chair with a walker trying to claw at him, Jules quickly stabbed her knife into the undead's head, Glenn throwing the body to the side as Jules helped Noah up.       Rick and Michonne preoccupied themselves with fighting another walker straying not too far away. As Noah clung to the side of the porch, looking down at Rick on the ground, fear filling his eyes. "It's Tyreese."      "Where?" Rick heaved, his hair in disarray. Jules held onto the railing on the porch, feeling her heart plummet.      "My house. He's been bit," Noah answered shakily. With that, the five sprinted away, allowing Noah to lead the way to Tyreese.       The adults made Jules stand outside as they rushed in, and Jules waited and waited, until finally they stumbled out with Tyreese in their arms. Jules's hands raised to her mouth as she took in his state. Half of his body was bloody from the wound draining st his arm. Tyreese had his eyes halfway between opened and closed, looking like sickness was rapidly approaching.       It was all a blur to her as someone hacked at the chain by the entrance gate. She could faintly hear the sounds of everyone's worried shouts, paired with walkers waiting for them on the other side. Her body moved on autopilot, grabbing the closest biter, heaving her knife into its skull.       She didn't remember anything else until they made it back to their car in the woods, tossing Tyreese into the second row of seats. His head rested against the window, his eyes slowly closing. They were too late. He couldn't be saved. He wouldn't last.      They drove for a little bit before that cruel fact became apparent to everyone. they stopped on the side of the road, placing Tyreese on the ground, before wrapping him up in a white bag.            𝜗𝜚            A GRAVE WAS DUG.      Juliette felt numb.      A funeral was held. Gabriel recited verses from the bible. Juliette didn't listen. She doesn't remember attending a funeral to begin with.       It felt as though she was wearing shoes that were too small for her. Like a blister had formed, and she felt it with every single step she took. A reminder of the grief she felt gnawing at her with every step.             end of vii.   at my darkest hour ▬▬

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chapter eight.   ten year drought ﹙season five, episode ten - eleven﹚themthe distance                JULIETTE HAD LEFT THE bag of clothes she had collected back at the rundown camp. It should be the least of her worries seeing as it was the least of her problems, but she pretended it was her only problem at the moment.      She pretended, because she could feel her stomach practically eating itself from lack of food. She could pretended, because she could feel the drowsiness in her bones and muscles, urging her to find a nice cool bottle of water to boost her morale. But she couldn't stop, sit down, and eat to fill her stomach. Not when their entire group was living off of worms and already dead frogs.      They had only gone forty miles. They had sixty left. They hadn't even made it halfway yet.      Juliette remembers when, if traffic went smoothly, it only took an hour to get somewhere sixty miles away. Now, it was taking them hours and days. Weeks, even. When Jules had asked Rick how long it had been, he answered: three weeks.      The sun blazed down on them, reducing Juliette to a very thin tanktop. She hadn't worn it since the prison fell, so at least it wasn't too dirty. This tanktop was the highlight of her week. Maybe even her year.      When she thought matters couldn't get possibly worse, she was proved to be solely mistaken as the car they had all piled into came to a shuddering halt, signaling the vehicle's demise from here on out. "We walk," Rick instructed, trying to keep his cool as they all one by one stepped out.      So, they walked.      No food and water and rest was taking a toll of everybody's body. Jules struggled to even move her feet, sometimes stumbling when she forgot to move them together. It seemed everyone else was experiencing the same thing, because as Daryl turned around, gauging how far away the building group of walkers behind their group was, Rick dismissed it, saying they didn't have the strength.      Jules arms grew tired from holding up Judith, so she took silent turns with Rick, who gladly accepted his daughter when he noted the exhaustion evident on her features.      Her pace slowed to match Maggie's, who had her gaze trained down. Maggie looked exhausted as well. Mentally and physically. Maggie had lost a sister, someone she knew for the majority of her life. Jules tried to imagine surviving all of the End with Rory, only for Rory to die. Jules had long since come to terms with Rory being dead, but it was easier when she didn't have to see it with her own two eyes.      "I have half of a protein bar left," Jules whispered, desperate to uplift Maggie's spirits, if only a little bit. "It's stale, and probably ineffective, but . . . "      Maggie looked down at Jules, almost like she had just realized the girl was walking next to her, only to shake her head. "No. You keep that. Maybe give it to someone else." She noticed Jules's fallen expression, causing her to continue, "Thank you, Jules."      It was back to silence in the group after that. Jules turned her head, looking at everyone's condition. Carol subtly held a hand over her stomach, subconsciously craving anything in her empty stomach. Glenn's shoulders sagged as he had his head turned to the trees alongside the road, as if ready for anything to pop out.      Scout and Michonne walked beside each other, both with large dark circles around their eyes, making their eyes droop. Scout loosely held onto his handgun, occasionally looking behind himself at the few walkers tailing them. Carl, Tara, and Sasha hung more towards the back, the former carrying the slim supplies they still had that didn't consist of weapons. Gabriel and Noah were closely behind them, the latter's limp even more prominent with every step he took. Gabriel's sleeves of his black collared shirt had been rolled up. At the very end walked Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene. The two (not including Eugene) of them seemed to be carrying themselves slightly better than the rest.      Everyone was hurting in some way or another. It hurt Jules even more knowing she was helpless.      Rick and Daryl participated in small conversation with one another, and as Jules heard Judith begin to stir, she pushed her body to catch up to the two. She held out the remaining part of her protein bar to Rick. "If we crush this up, I think she'll be able to have it."      They gave the bar to Judith. She stopped fussing. For now, at least.      "It's gonna rain sooner or later," Rick had pointed out, looking up at the darkening clouds above them. Jules never imagined herself clinging to the thought of rain for hydration.      "I'm gonna head out," Daryl mumbled, holding out his bow as he handed a gun back to Rick. "See what I can find."      Rick nodded, shifting Judith in his hold to accept the gun back. "Don't take too long."      "I'll go with you," Carol offered from behind Daryl, sounding breathless, as was everyone else. There wasn't a ton of exertion in small parts, instead small extortion over a long period of time. It wore everyone out, and simply walking had them out of breath.      "I got it," Daryl dismissed simply, not turning around to look at the woman as he already began deviating from the road.       "You going to stop me?" Carol pressed, following the man shortly after, who no longer protested. Maybe he just didn't have to energy.      "Jules," a small voice called out, causing the girl to turn her head. Blinking as she looked down at Carl, she took in the small object in his hands. It was one of those makeup pallets with a built-in mirror, though whatever makeup product that had been in there was long gone. Despite this, the design on the pallet was beautiful. It had obviously been worn and dirtied, but there was intricate floral decor. "I found it with a music box that I gave to Maggie."      "It's beautiful, Carl." Jules smiled softly as she took the mirror from his hands, opening it up. She immediately regretted her decision as she stared at her reflection, which stared right back at her. The last month had been rough, and it showed on her face. Dirt covered her cheeks, with the occasional dried blood paired with a scratch. Her lips were cracked and chapped, and she could see how caved in her face looked from the rapid weight loss. She looked like a ghost.       Carl was picking up on her inner turmoil, looking up at her troubled expression as she stared down at the mirror. She didn't notice Carl fall back, too warped in the sight of herself.            𝜗𝜚            HOURS WENT BY. THERE were now enough walkers behind them for the noise of their growls to be heard. Or maybe they were just that much closer, and Jules's group had started moving slower because of the heat. Either way, it was proving to be a problem.      The mirror felt heavy in her pocket as she walked. She raised a hand to her forehead every now and then, wiping the sweat that had accumulated on her forehead. She could practically hear the sun beating down on them.      Their formation now consisted more of a line, everyone walking side by side. Jules walked in between Maggie and Scout, occasionally bumping into one of them on accident, because she couldn't keep herself walking in a straight line. Neither of the two seemed to mind, or even notice. Along with the pounding headache she felt, she imagined this is what being drunk felt like.      After another hour or two of walking, it was decided. They would finally take out the group of walkers hungrily waiting for them all to stop walking and collapse due to exhaustion. That didn't come, luckily.      As they came to a bridge, the group split up. Cut in half, they had half the group move to the other end of the bridge. Carl with Judith, Eugene, Rosita, Tara, Noah, Gabriel, Scout, and Jules all waited. Rick, Glenn, Abraham, Maggie, Sasha, and Michonne all stood on opposite sides of the bridge, three on each side. They stood there patiently, waiting for the walkers to move close enough to be taken out.      Jules watched from afar, leaning her head against the railing of the small bridge as she sat down on the road. Rick was the first to grab hold of a walker, using little of the energy he had left to shove the walker tumbling down the side of the bridge. The rest of the group repeated these actions, trying their best to not deplete any energy that could be needed in the future. It wasn't until Sasha let her emotions get the best of her as she stabbed a walker in the head, causing the others to begin manually kill the rest of the biters.      It was a mess. A bloodbath. They were all clearly not moving to perfection, Sasha in a daze as she swung her blade blindly. Daryl popped out of nowhere, coming to Rick's rescue where had started to become overrun with walkers. Michonne had to shove Sasha down after everything was said and done. The tension was prickling between the two women as Sasha stood and glared, before walking off.      Then, they walked some more. Jules had a little more push in her legs than she did before, and she thanked the short break she had prior. It didn't last long before she was practically stumbling instead of walking.      They walked even more.      Until they came upon a group of old cars, cutting off the road. They all came to a stop, Jules squinting at the cars that had been strategically placed there. Like someone was one step ahead of them.      Daryl had the same idea, dismissing himself to head into the woods, providing them a lookout from multiple angles. This time, when Carol offered to go with him, Daryl completely shut her down.      Cautiously, they walked towards the group of cats, inspecting them carefully. Jules didn't forget to look over her shoulder every now and again just in case. However, she didn't feel a chill run down her spine like she did when the people of Terminus had been watching them in the woods. Either she was just paranoid and no one was watching them in the first place, or whoever was watching them isn't a threat. She decided the first option was more plausible.      Everyone came up empty handed as they looted the cars. Rick decided a much needed break would ensue, so Jules plopped down on the side of the road, sitting up. The rest of the group followed, sitting down in the grass. Scout sat next to the girl, and she found herself leaning back into his side. No words were exchanged.      Low rumbling in the distance signaled thunder. After the car stopped running, Jules was sure it couldn't get any worse. But, now, it seemed they were just going to get rain. They'd be getting a storm.      A branch cracked, causing all of them to flinch, gaze snapping to the sound. Jules immediately relaxed as the source of the sound stepped into the clearing: Daryl.       A bottle popping open caused a few head turns, as well. "So all we found was booze?" Tara questioned, the disappointment clear in her tone as she stared at the bottle in Abraham's hand.      "Yeah," Rosita answered solemnly.       "It's not gonna help," Tara continued in a lower voice.      "He knows that."      "It's going to make it worse."      "Yes, it is."      "He's a grown man," Eugene cut in, a blue book in his hands that Jules hadn't been able to see the title of. Not that she'd be interested in reading anything he happened to want to read. Then again, it isn't like she had the luxury of picking and choosing what she wanted nowadays. "And I truly do not know if things can get worse."      "You're going to jinx us," Jules mumbled, though it was still loud enough for everyone to hear as she casted her gaze up at the brewing clouds.      Rosita nodded in agreement. "They can. They will."      More rustling sounded, and Jules completely sat up, no longer against Scout, heart thumping. Out came four dogs, fur matted and dirty as they all barked at the group. Her throat fell dry. She knew what happened next as Sasha shot down the dogs quickly.      She had dog for the first time.      They continued walking, the sun hanging above the horizon line now. Glenn held out a half-empty bottle of water to Jules. Or, maybe it was half-full in Glenn's perspective. She remembered him saying something like that. There was a chance he no longer thought like that.       Jules shook her head as she looked back up at him. "Save it. Someone will need it more later."      The frown on Glenn's lips deepened. "You need it. When was the last time you drank anything?"      She looked away from him, continuing to walk. Truth be told, she had no idea, but she knew it had been almost too long since she had. "I'm still walking, aren't I?"       Glenn didn't press the matter anymore.      A minute or an hour could have passed before Jules caught sight of . . a group of water bottles on the road ahead of them. She blinked, squinting, wondering if she was imagining if.      "Am I hallucinating?" Scout questioned no one in particular. Jules knew why he was wondering.       "No," Tara answered simply as they neared the water.      Jules had to hold herself back from grabbing them. There was glistening, clean water staring back at her. There seemed to be a bottle for each of them, and the thought helped Jules stay away from it. Not to mention an additional four jugs. Someone was watching them, and they obviously knew everyone in their makeshift group.      Rick picked up the note lying in front of the water bottles. From a friend, it read. Jules didn't know what to make of it, but Rick tasked them all to stand in a circle protectively. Jules's bow felt heavy in her hands, instead of resting on her back like it had been previously.       "What else are we going to do?" Tara huffed, and Jules mentally noted that Tara was on team drink the water. If Jules hadn't grown so paranoid, she would be on that team, too. If someone gave her a good enough reason as to why the water wasn't tampered with, she'd waste no time downing it.      "Not this," Rick replied, shaking his head as he looked at the trees around them. "We don't know who left it."      "If that's a trap, we already happen to be in it," Eugene pointed out from next to Tara. He, too, appeared to be on team drink the water. "I, for one, would like to think it is indeed from a friend."      "What if it isn't? They put something in it?" Carol voiced her pessimistic reasoning, and Jules was more inclined to agree with her.       Eugene's loyalties to his team overcame everyone else's reasoning as he lurched forward, taking a bottle of water. "Eugene," Rosita scolded as he began opening the cap.      "Quality assurance," he answered, tipping his head back, before Abraham lunged forward, harshly smacking the water away from his grasp. Eugene only looked down at the water bottle spilling out.      "We can't," Rick reminded calmly, before thunder sounded again. Shortly after, a few raindrops fell, before a ton began falling.      Jules slung her bow back onto her back, closing her eyes as she allowed the rain to fall on her, ridding of the dirt and grime built on her face. Some of them were glad for the rain, sticking their tongues out to feel it.      "Everybody get the bags. Anything you can find," Rick called, and Jules hurriedly reached into the bag in her back, taking out her empty water bottle, laying it on the ground so it could fill up with rain water. The others around her did the same thing, some taking out bowls.       The thunder grew louder, angrier. Judith's cries matched the volume of the thunder now, and Jules watched as Carl attempted to shield her from the rain using Rick's infamous hat from Before.       "We gotta go," Rick shouted over the rain, realizing that the storm was going to grow far more serious judging by the thick, dark clouds looming close by.      "There's a barn!" Daryl pointed out, causing Jules to lift her head.       At least they would have a place to stay.            𝜗𝜚            THUNDER CRASHED, RAIN POURED as they shoved the doors to the small barn open. Luck seemed to be finally on their side, since the barn had been rid of anything that would cause them issues.      As they checked every nook and cranny, there was one immobile walker that Maggie put down quickly.      That night, they all settled around the barn in different places, a small fire lit in the center. The thunder still roared outside, and the rain still pelted, but it was slightly more bearable with shelter.      The two of them were like opposite ends of a magnet, Jules thought briefly, as she sat down next to Scout. His head was reclined against a wooden pillar, eyes lidded but not yet closed.      "Do you think the water was a trap?" Jules questioned quietly, looking up at him.       His eyes opened slightly more, locking in on her gaze, before he shook his head. "No, I don't think it was. Whoever it was had to have been pursuing us for a while, right? That means they know how we work. Which means they know we wouldn't accept water randomly, so trying to lace it with something is futile since we wouldn't drink it in the first place."      Jules hummed in thought, copying his actions and leaning her head back against the wood. "I hope you're right. I don't think we can handle another Terminus so soon."      Jules had managed to fall asleep last night. It had been a while since she has, and she was surprised she did when she awoke in the middle of the night. Bangs came from the front door to the barn, lightning occasionally illuminating the inside of the barn as thunder clashed loudly soon after it flashed.      As Jules rubbed her eyes and came to her senses, with the help of Scout tugging her to her feet, she realized there must be walkers attempting to come inside. It was in the middle of the night, the fire was put out, and the storm was raging on loudly outside. The entire group shoved their bodies against the large barn door, trying to keep it closed as their shoes slid in the mud pooling at the floor.       Her arms throbbed as she held them against the door, fighting back against the howling wind and the snarling walkers. She could hear Judith's crying coming from the back of the barn.        It was a long night. Jules didn't know how long it was until they successfully held the door closed, and they all collapsed in a random spot on the floor, exhaustion taking over and allowing them to sleep.      The second time Juliette woke up, it was much gentler than the first time. Gentle sunlight seeped through the cracks of the barn as Jules groggily raised her head from the damp dirt of the barn's floor.     It appeared that she had been the last one awake, as everyone else had already preoccupied themselves with random tasks. She noted the lack of Maggie and Sasha, but because no one seemed alarm, they must have gone out on their own accord.     As if on cue, the two women reentered a barn, but this time they weren't alone.      "Everyone . . . This is Aaron."             end of viii.   ten year drought ▬▬

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chapter nine.   more promises ﹙season five, episode eleven﹚the distance                  THE SOUNDS OF GUNS raising and cocking filled the barn as Jules jumped to her feet, eyes wide. A man none of them had ever seen before stood at the entrance of the barn, his arms and hands held up in surrender.      Daryl swerved past them, looking around outside just in case Aaron happened to bring any of his friends. "We met outside. He's by himself," Maggie tried to reassure everyone, but Jules felt her legs buzzing, as if getting ready to act in case Aaron wasn't on their side. "We took his weapons and we took his gear."      Patting him down to make sure, Daryl then closed the barn's door behind them, the chain clanking as it closed. Jules took in Aaron's clean appearance, looking for anything that seemed off, but she came up empty handed.      "Hi," Aaron spoke, mustering a small smile as his eyes trailed across their group, before landing on Rick, who stood in the middle holding a now crying Judith protectively. "It's nice to meet you." Aaron attempted to step forward, but as more guns cocked, he stopped.       Rick, ignoring Aaron, turned his eyes to Maggie, affirming, "You said he had a weapon?" Maggie nodded, stepping forward and handing Rick a small handgun. Rick then put it in his back pocket, turning his attention back to the unfamiliar man. "There something you need?"      "He has a camp nearby," Sasha answered for Aaron, and Jules felt her body tensing. It felt like the same thing over and over again. They possibly find a place for safety, but it never works out, and more and more of their people end up dead. "He wants us to audition for membership."      "Audition? Seriously?" Jules blurted out, and instead of getting all defensive and upset like she thought Aaron would, he only smiled at her apologetically.      "I wish there was another word. Audition makes it sound like we're some kind of dance troupe. That's only on Friday nights." Aaron's joke fell flat, everyone just watching him blankly and skeptically. That didn't seem to deter him, however. "Um, it's not a camp. It's a community. I think you all would make valuable additions. But it's not my call. My job is to convince you all to follow me back home." Rick narrowed his eyes at him. "I know. If I were you, I wouldn't follow me either. Not until I knew exactly what I was getting myself into. Sasha, can you hand Rick my pack?"      Jules watched closely as Sasha now stepped forward, shrugging off the backpack that had been on her back.       "Front pocket, there's an envelope." Rick opened the bag as instructed, reaching inside. "There's no way I could convince you to come with me just by talking about our community. That's why I brought those." On cue, Rick took out a yellow envelope, filled to the brim. "Now, I apologize in advance for the picture quality," Aaron laughed lightly, "we just found an old camera store last—"      "Nobody gives a shit," Daryl cut him off with a huff, causing Aaron's words to die down in his throat.       Aaron turned to look at him from over his shoulder, nodding. "You're absolutely one-hundred percent right." Rick then opened the envelope, revealing a series of photographs. Jules bent down slightly, trying to get a look for herself. It was an image of a wall held up by long rods. "That's the first picture I wanted to show you, because nothing I say about our community will matter unless you know you'll be safe. If you join us, you will be. Each panel in that wall is a fifteen-foot-high, twelve-foot-wide slab of solid steel framed by cold-rolled steel beams and square tubing. Nothing alive or dead gets through that without our say-so."      Jules bit her lip in thought as she continued to stare down at the image in Rick's hands. It all sounded too good to be true. She couldn't believe in this little community, not yet.       "Like I said, security is obviously important. In fact, there's only one resource more critical to our community's survival. The people. Together we're strong. You can make us even stronger." Rick continued looking at the photo, before slowly stepping forward. "In the next picture, you'll see inside the gates. Our community was first con—"      Rick's fist connected with the side of Aaron's jaw, sending the man tumbling to the floor. As everyone crouched down to look at Aaron, it was clear the man had been knocked clean out.       As the shock from everyone dissipated, Jules crouched back down at the remaining photos, flipping through them with Noah and Scout. "It seems pretty real to me," Scout murmured to no one.      Jules glanced up at him, lips pulled into a frown. "Just because it's real doesn't mean it's safe." The boy shrugged his shoulders in response, accepting defeat.       "We got to secure him. Dump his pack. See who this guy really is," Rick informed everyone, and Jules slowly stood with all of the pictures in her hands. She could see Michonne trying to change his mind. "Everybody else, we need eyes in every direction. They're coming for us. We might not know how or when, but they are."      Jules walked over to where Carl was, inspecting what else was inside of Aaron's backpack. Carl pulled out a small, orange weapon. "What is that?" Jules questioned, never having seen a gun that looked like that.      "Anybody see anything?" Rick questioned, ignoring Maggie's words about how Aaron would have hurt them if he wanted to.       "Just a lot of places to hide," Glenn answered, standing up against the barn's wall, peeking through the cracks.      "Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary," Scout added from his post.      "Alright, keep looking." Rick then walked over to Juliette and Carl, who were trying to figure out what he had pulled out. "What did you two find?"      Carl handed the object over to Rick, who inspected it. "We've never seen a gun like that before." Jules looked up at Rick, waiting for him to say what it is, only for him to nod and walk away. Carl looked at Jules, displeased with Rick's lack of answer as well.      A few moments later, Aaron slowly woke up, with Rick standing over him. "Sit him up," Rick commanded, still holding onto whatever gun they had found.      "He just woke up. He probably shouldn't—" Jules replied as she came over to stand near Rick, only for the man to shake his head.      "It's okay," Rick answered as Aaron groaned. "It's fine, sit him up." Michonne and Maggie reluctantly tugged the man into a sitting position.       Jules expected Aaron to be furious. To start calling backup by screaming some secret code he had amongst his group, but none of that came. Not even the slightest hint of a glare.       "You're being cautious," Aaron pointed out calmly, his hands bound together behind his back. "I completely understand."      "How many of your people are out there?" Rick demanded in that same low voice he uses, that no one can seem to not answer to. "You have a flare gun. You have it to signal your people. How many of them are there?"      Jules blinked in realization, glancing over at the flare gun Rick held. That made more sense than anything she had thought of.      It took Aaron a few moments to answer, as if it pained him. "Does it matter?"      "Yes. Yes, it does."      "I mean, of course, it matters how many people are actually out there, but does it matter how many people I tell you are out there?" Rick turned his head to the side as Aaron grinned. "Because I'm pretty sure no matter what number I say—eight, thirty-two, four-hundred and forty-four, zero—no matter what I say, you're not going to trust me."      "Well, it's hard to trust anyone who smiles after getting punched in the face," Rick countered knowingly, and Jules definitely agreed with him on that. She had expected rage when Aaron awoke.      "How about the guy who leaves bottles of water for you in the road?" The group all simultaneously glanced back at the untouched water bottles they had taken in prior.      "How long you people been following us?" Daryl questioned instead, moving forward with his bow in hand.       "Long enough to see that you practically ignore a pack of roamers on your trail," Aaron urged, growing more desperate, like he truly believed he had them all figured out. "Long enough to see that despite a lack of food and water, you never turned on each other. You're survivors and you're people. Like I said, and I hope you won't punch me again for saying it again, that is the most important resource in this world."      As they all took in his words, Jules looked down contemplatively, her hand brushing over the pocket of her jeans that contained the mirror Carl had gifted for her. Aaron looked clean. Wherever his community is, if it's even what he says it is, it must have showers, or something to keep you clean. Jules wanted that so badly.      After a few moments passed of silence, Rick stepped forward, bending down slightly to look at Aaron sternly. "How many others are out there?" he repeated his earlier question lowly.       "One," Aaron answered, his voice quiet, matching Rick's tone. Rick stared, shaking his head. "I knew you wouldn't believe me. If it's not words, if it's not pictures, what would it take to convince you that this is for real?"      Everyone remained silent.       "What if I drove you to the community? All of you? We leave now, we'll get there by lunch," Aaron offered, still sitting pitifully on the dirt floor.      "I'm not sure how the seventeen of us are going to fit in the car you and your one friend drove down here in." Aaron quickly began shaking his head.      "We drove separately. If we found a group, we wanted to be able to bring them all home." There's that word. Home. "There's enough room for all of us."      "And you're parked just a couple miles away, right?" Carol asked.      "East on Ridge Road, just after you hit Route Sixteen. We wanted to get them closer, but then the storm came, blocked the road; we couldn't clear it." It was too unreal. It felt too good.      "Yeah, you've really thought this through," Rick scoffed mockingly.      "Rick, if I wanted to ambush you, I'd do it here," Aaron pressed, looking up at Rick, trying to get through to their leader. "You know, light the barn on fire while you slept, pick you off as you ran out the only exit. You can trust me."      Michonne was the first to break the silence. "I'll check out the cars," she offered, glancing back at Rick.      "There aren't any cars," Rick replied, trying to keep his voice level as he met Michonne's gaze.       "There's only one way to find out."      "We don't need to find out."      "We do. You know what you know and you're sure of it, but I'm not."      "Me neither," Maggie cut in, leaning against one of the wooden pillars.      Jules nodded in agreement, her arms crossed over her chest as she met Rick's gaze. "We . . haven't had the best experiences with other groups, but don't you think we're owed a good one eventually?"      Rick turned away, looking down, deep in thought, before looking at the woman in front of him again. "Your way is dangerous. Mine isn't."      "Passing on someplace where we can live? Where Judith can live? That's pretty dangerous." Michonne paused, gaze softening. "We need to find out what this is. We can handle ourselves. So that's what we're going to do."      "Then I will, too," Glenn spoke up, nodding at Rick in confirmation. "I'll go."      Rick chose not to answer, turning around. "Abraham," he called.      Abraham had been posted at one of the cracks in the barn. "Yeah," he answered, already knowing what was going to be asked of him. "I'll walk with them."      "Rosita?" Rick then called, turning back around to look at the woman who had been standing over Aaron. She nodded in response, slinging her gun around into her hands.      Rick said they only had sixty minutes to go before they came to look for them. After that, Rick tasked them all with searching around the surrounding area, making sure they weren't being watched by unknown variables.      Jules shielded the bright sun with her free hand, holding her bow with the other as she stepped out of the barn. Rick made everyone go in groups of two, so naturally she paired up with Scout.      "Your name is pretty ironic in these situations," Jules mused as they both stepped over a fallen tree trunk, looking over at him, who smiled in reply.      "It's a little funny, I guess," he agreed, looking around them, though he didn't seem to be too concerned with actually finding anyone. "Maybe that's why I'm good with scopes."      Jules smiled, shaking her head, before it slowly faltered. "Do you believe Aaron?"      Scout looked at her, their eyes meeting, before he averted his. "I want to. I don't know if I can yet. Not after Terminus. It's kind of giving me deja vu."      "We deserve a win," Jules replied, taking her gaze off the side of his face, looking at the ground that held scattered tree limbs. "Aaron looks nice. Not the fake kind, either."      "I trust your judgement," he said, before placing his handgun in its holster. "I think he was telling the truth when he said he only came with one friend. If not, they would know the advantage they had over us, and would have just killed us a long time ago."      Jules hummed in reply. "Did you see how clean he was, too? They have to have showers."      Scout smiled, before stopping his footsteps. "It's been way too long since I've had a shower. Or since I've combed through my hair. I don't even want to know what I look like right now."      Jules looked back at him, a teasing smile on her lips. "Yeah, I think it's best that you don't."       After it had felt close to an hour, Jules and Scout made their way back to the barn. Just as Scout had thought, they found no traces of anyone else spying on them.      Rosita, Glenn, Abraham, and Michonne had returned shortly after Jules went inside the barn. They carried tons of different canned food, presumably from Aaron's vehicles.       "This is ours now," Rick told Aaron, who was still tied up on the floor, holding up a can of fruit.      Aaron slowly nodded. "There's more than enough."      "It's ours whether or not we go to your camp," Rick continued, and immediately protests arose.      "What do you mean? Why wouldn't we go?" Carl questioned his father, his eyebrows furrowed.       "If he were lying, or if he wanted to hurt us . . but he isn't, and he doesn't. We need this. So we're going. All of us," Michonne cut in, putting her foot down as she looked between everyone.       Juliette Graves would be lying if she said she wasn't downright terrified of going with Aaron back to his supposed community. But she would also be lying if she said she didn't want to take the risk.       "Somebody say something if they feel differently," Michonne continued sternly, looking around. No one said anything.      Rick still didn't look entirely convinced. "I don't know, man. This barn smells like horse shit," Daryl grumbled from his seat on a bale of hay.       Sucking in a breath, Rick relented. "Yeah. We're going." There was a hint of a smile on Jules's lips as she looked at him. He then turned back to look down at Aaron. "So, where are we going? Where's your camp?"      "Well, every time I've done this, I've been behind the wheel driving recruits back. I believe you're good people. I've bet my life on it. I just—I'm just not ready to bet my friends' lives just yet."      Michonne strutted over to Aaron, looking at him through narrowed eyes. "You're not driving. So if you want to get home, you'll have to tell us how."      Releasing a short sigh, Aaron looked over to Rick, who held a map. "Go north on Route Sixteen."      "And then?"       "I'll tell you when we get there."      "We'll take Twenty-three north. You'll give us directions from there," Rick said, looking up at Aaron from the map.       "That's—I don't know how else to say it—that's a bad idea," Aaron answered, shaking his head. "We've cleared Sixteen. It'll be faster."      "We'll take Twenty-three," Rick repeated, leaving no room for debate. Aaron didn't answer. "We'll leave at sundown."      "We're doing this at night?" Sasha questioned, eyebrows knitted together with concern.       "Look, I know it's dangerous, but it's better than riding up to the gates during the day. If it's isn't safe, we need to get gone before they know we're there," Rick explained, hands on his hips.      "No one is going to hurt you," Aaron pressed, trying to reassure the paranoid man. "You're trying to protect your group, but you're putting them in danger."      "Tell me where the camp is, we'll leave right now," Rick then said, bending at his knees to be level with Aaron. Aaron watched him cautiously, before turning away with a shake of his head. Rick took that as an answer. "It's going to be a long night. Eat," he told everyone, and Jules was quick to grab a can of peaches. "Get some rest if you can."      As Jules ate, she couldn't help but continue to stare at Aaron. Eventually, the man caught her gaze, and offered a small smile. She turned away. She couldn't fathom how someone's spirits could be so uplifted given what the world became.             end of ix.   more promises ▬▬

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chapter ten.   documenting ﹙season five, episode eleven - twelve﹚the distanceremember                        TRUE TO HIS WORD, as soon as the sun fell, they started their journey. The group of seventeen (now nineteen including Aaron, and his friend Eric) all piled into the two vehicles. One was a regular car, while the other was an RV. In a way, it made her think of Dale, back when things seemed much simpler.      Jules held a flashlight in one hand and a book in the other, sitting on one of the cushioned seats in the RV. The only ones in the car in front of them was Glenn, Michonne, Rick, and Aaron. Who, by the way, still happened to be tied up. A new addition to the group was Eric, and Jules couldn't find it in her to dislike the man, either.       "What are you reading?" a voice questioned the girl, and she looked up to see Tara, who had been sitting next to her. Jules flipped to the front cover, the title in bold cursive lettering: Emma. "Never heard of it. Is it any good?"      Jules glanced at Tara, her eyes wide as she stared at the woman in disbelief. "What? You've never heard of this?" Tara smiled, shaking her head. "Have you heard of Jane Austen at all? Pride and Prejudice?"      Tara looked away, pretending to be in thought. "I think I've seen the movie."      "Then you'll have to read this when I'm done. I can't believe you," Jules said, feigning disappointment as she shook her head disapprovingly.      Before the conversation could go any further, the brakes were slammed. They had lost track of the car in front of them because of a large hoard of walkers. They had to change pathways, instead driving somewhere they could stay and wait for the rest of their group to meet up.      Eric had broken his ankle, and they were forced to find refuge in an old abandoned warehouse. After shooting a flare in hopes of alerting Rick and the rest, they lit candles and sat outside of the warehouse. Jules sat across from where the RV was parked, heart sinking in her chest as the minutes passed.      They had driven straight through a herd of walkers, and with a regular car like that, it wouldn't have made it through the entire herd. The thought worried Jules as she nervously picked at her fingernails, waiting for them to return: if they returned.      A whistle sounded throughout the alleyway, and Jules's attention was immediately taken away from her dirty fingers, and instead to the four figures waiting for them. Daryl, who was the only other one outside, waved them over, tapping on the window of the warehouse to let the rest of their group know Rick, Glenn, Michonne, and Aaron had returned.       As everyone reunited amongst themselves, Jules noted the lack of bindings around Aaron's hands. He must have earned their trust one way or another, and that gave her more hope for this supposed community.       After Aaron had spoken with Eric who was resting in the other room, Aaron came back out, gaining everyone's attentions. "Everyone, thank you," he started, nodding with an appreciative smile. "You saved Eric. I owe you. All of you. And I will make sure that debt is paid in full when we get to our community. When we get to Alexandria."      Jules couldn't hold back the smile on her face. Alexandria, it was called. She knew she shouldn't be getting her hopes up like this, but she couldn't help herself. More and more this place was starting to sound like everything that was promised. She glanced over at Scout, who had already been looking at her. He smiled, throwing her a thumbs up.      "Now, I'm not sure about you, but I'd rather not do any more driving tonight." Nobody said anything in protest. "Maybe we can hit the road tomorrow morning."      As soon as Jules casted her gaze over to Rick for his reply, he said, "That's fine. But if we're staying here for the night, you're sleeping over there." Rick pointed to the far end of the building, which happened to be away from Eric.      "You really think we got to do that?" Maggie questioned Rick, a frown now on her lips.       Rick shrugged his shoulders, not backing down from his word. "It's the safe play. We don't know you."      "The only way you're gonna stop him from being with him right now is by shooting me," Aaron cut in, voice surprisingly even as he connected his gaze with Rick's.       As the tension built, Glenn moved over to Rick, having a quiet conversation with the man that Jules was unable to pick up on from her spot. Whatever Glenn had said to Rick worked, because the man conceded, allowing Aaron to go as he pleased.      The group settled down in their respective places on the cool concrete floor. Jules used her backpack as a pillow, laying it underneath her head as she stared up at the ceiling that was swallowed up by darkness. There was no light but the moonlight, and that didn't provide much of any light, either.      Before she fell asleep, she envisioned what her world would look like tomorrow.            𝜗𝜚            AS SOON AS EVERYONE was awake, they set off once again. This time, the RV led, carrying both Eric and Aaron. Juliette gave up her spot in the RV for one in the car. Just as she thought they wouldn't have any more problems, that they just had one quick stretch to Alexandria, the RV broke down.      They all sat and waited patiently as the RV's battery was being replaced, and a few cheers and applause rung out when the RV was up and running again.      Jules sat next to Michonne, staring out the car's window as they maneuvered their way through DC. A lump formed in her throat as more and more memories flooded back. All of these memories were from Before, of her little sister and her mother. The last time she got to see them before everything changed. She didn't get a proper goodbye.      A hand on hers knocked her out of her mind, and she turned to find Michonne smiling reassuringly at her. "Carl mentioned something about you being from here."      "DC?" Michonne nodded, and Jules sucked in a sharp breath. "Yeah. I lived here with my mom and little sister, Rory. I was only in Atlanta visiting my uncle for the summer, and then . . . All contact was severed pretty quickly into It. I haven't been here since."      "How are you feeling?" Michonne questioned quietly and softly, squeezing the girl's hand to provide some comfort.      Jules shrugged her shoulders as she looked out the window once more. It was weird, in short. She could easily get to her house from the street they were driving on right now.       "I'll be okay."      After a while more, Jules felt her heart in her throat as they finally came upon what she could only assume was Alexandria. A huge gate loomed over their vehicle, just as Aaron had previously described.       Their entire group slowly exited their vehicles, and for once in months, Jules felt it. She heard it.       She could hear people laughing. Children playing. Living. Having fun without having to worry about being too loud.      It felt normal. Like this was the life she was supposed to be living, instead of having to constantly look over her shoulder and survive.      Juliette didn't bother having her bow at the ready, instead leaving it clinging to her back underneath her pack. They all slowly stepped forward as the gate creaked open, with Eric and Aaron leading.       A noise came from the bushes at the side of the road, and Daryl wasted no time putting a bullet through whatever was rustling in them. He pulled out a possum just as a new face entered Jules's vision on the other side of the gate.      "We brought dinner," Daryl joked lightly, though the new man standing on the other side didn't crack a smile, unsure. Jules couldn't blame the man, because she was sure they all looked positively ghastly.      "It's okay," Aaron told the man, smiling with a nod. "Come on in, guys." Jules moved with the group, and as soon as they were all inside, the gate slid closed behind them. Guess there was no turning back now.      As Jules turned around to view Alexandria, she was immediately taken aback. It looked like time had stood still for this neighborhood, like it had never undergone an apocalypse like the rest of the world. The streets were lined with beautiful and pristine second-storied houses. There were vibrant flowers growing along the roads, with a clear pond in the middle of it all.       "Before we take this any further, I need you all to turn over your weapons," the man who had opened the gate instructed, and immediately Jules thought back to Terminus. How immediately they had to turn their weapons in for them, too. No one made a move. "You stay, you hand 'em over."      "We don't know if we want to stay," Rick countered, holding Judith to his chest, his other hand holding onto his gun.      "It's fine, Nicholas," Aaron butt in before anything else could happen, and Jules was relieved. She found herself beginning to like Aaron. The man, Nicholas, didn't seem too pleased, but didn't say anything.      "If we were gonna use them, we would have started already," Rick pointed out, keeping his gaze on Nicholas.      "Let them talk to Deanna first," Aaron continued.      "Who's Deanna?" Abraham spoke everyone's question aloud.       "She knows everything you'd want to know about this place. Rick, why don't you start?" Aaron answered, and Jules felt her worries growing. This must have been what Aaron meant when he said they'd have to audition. She doesn't know what took place during this, but she does know she wouldn't like to be interrogated.       A walker began snarling, stumbling over towards the gate that hadn't been completely closed. Without wasting a second, Sasha turned, shooting it down. "You're lucky we're here," Rick mumbled, before the group all began walking down the streets of Alexandria.      As they walked towards a house, Jules tried her best to look around, to find something that looked strange or out of place. But she couldn't find anything.      Their entire group waited outside of the building while Rick went in. Jules figured it was something akin to an interview. She wouldn't know how interviews went, seeing as she never was able to get a job Before.      Before anyone was interviewed, they all had to drop their weapons on a cart. Jules warily set down her knife and bow. "They're still your guns. You can check them out whenever you go beyond the wall. But inside here, we store them for safety," a woman instructed. Jules hadn't caught her name yet, or she must have not been paying attention if the woman did say her name.       Jules watched Carol curiously as the older woman set down her guns. It was like she was pretending that her guns were heavy on her, that she didn't have the strength for such things. Carol must be playing a role.       The woman with the cart slowly made her exit, smiling at Carol as she made a lighthearted joke at the filled-up cart, "Maybe I should have brought another bin."      One by one, everyone auditioned. After Carl's turn, it was Jules's turn. She glanced over at Rick, because she didn't know what to expect, and she didn't know if she should trust Deanna or whoever else with information. As Rick slowly nodded wordlessly, Jules found the courage to walk up the porch steps.      The inside of the house looked to be normal. Well, normal using Before standards. There was a white leather couch, with a large video camera sitting in front of a chair. Jules tried not to make it obvious she was snooping around the living area.      "Why don't you take a seat?" a woman named Deanna gestured to the seat in front of the couch, a welcoming smile on her lips. Jules's head snapped to the woman, only just now noticing she was there.      The girl didn't say anything as she slowly sat down on the cushioned chair. Her body was rigid as she sat straight up, refusing to sink into the comfortable seat. Deanna probably noticed.      "Juliette, correct? And you like to be called Jules," Deanna first started as she sat onto the couch, adjusting the camera lens. Jules didn't answer as she looked down at her hands in her lap. Deanna didn't seem to mind her lack of reply. "How long were you out there?"      Jules bit her bottom lip, wondering when the last time she had to speak to a stranger alone was. She hated this. She wanted to sprint out of the too-clean doors, run to that metal tray carrying her bow and knife, and hightail it out of there before something bad happened.      "However long it's been since it started," she answered, voice barely audible, but the silence of the room was so defeating that any sound could have been heard.      Deanna's pearly white smile never faltered. "Rick told me you knew him before it started. Why don't you tell me a little bit about that?"      Jules didn't want to answer. She didn't want to tell this woman—a stranger—about her uncle, about Shane, about her mother, about Rory. But she had to if she didn't want to mess this all up.      "He worked with my uncle," Jules answered simply, avoiding the camera and Deanna's keen eye.       "So you lived in Atlanta, too?" Her jaw clenched, her nails digging into the fabric of her jeans.       "No. I was staying with my uncle for the summer when it started. I lived here, in DC, with my mom and little sister." The words fell from her lips before she could stop herself from revealing too much, but that seemed to be all apart of Deanna's scheme, because her smile was growing wider.      "You're not much of a talker?" Deanna asked, but it sounded more like a statement to Jules. Jules glanced up at the woman, but didn't say anything. "That's okay. I've met people just like that. You know, you remind me of a girl a few years younger than you that we found not too long ago. I think the two of you would get along nicely."      "What's her name?" Jules found herself asking. She knew she would do nothing with the information, because she would rather spend a night alone out there than speak to yet another unfamiliar person, but this was the easiest way to please Deanna.      "Her name is Rory," Deanna answered, nodding with a grin. Jules's blood ran cold as she snapped her gaze up to the woman.      "What? I'm sorry? What did you just say?" Jules demanded, short breaths leaving her lips as she stared at Deanna with wide eyes.      Deanna's smile diminished slightly, now replaced with concern as she watched Jules. "Her name is Enid. Is everything okay? We have bottles of water if you'd like one."      Jules held her head in her hand, shaking her head slowly as she tried to calm herself. She had just been hearing things. "No, no . . . I just—I thought . . . "      With a nod of her head, the woman averted the conversation elsewhere. "How did you contribute to your group out there?"      Jules toyed with her fingers, ignoring the already growing headache. "I didn't, much. Hershel . . he taught me some things. He was a veterinarian."      That seemed to pique the older woman's interest, eyebrows raising as her chin did so as well. "Perfect. I definitely have someone for you to meet."      Jules didn't say anything else, waiting for Deanna to ask another question. She wondered how long she had been sitting there awkwardly staring at random objects in the room, if it was minutes or hours. She did know, however, that she wanted it over.      "Is there anything else you'd like to share with me, Jules?" Deanna asked, and this question seemed the worst. Her tone was coaxing, like she knew Jules would feel an obligation to answer. Deanna was good at this.      "I . . . I want this to work," she started, her voice small as it grew in volume. "Judith, Carl . . they deserve to grow up somewhere where they're safe. We all do."      The woman smiled. "Thank you."      The camera stopped recording.            𝜗𝜚            "SO, YOU GUYS HAVE been cozy in here this entire time?" Scout questioned as soon as he entered the room, looking around momentarily before his gaze caught the camera, and he slid into the chair in front of it.      Deanna offered him a smile as she walked around the couch in front, before sitting down in the middle next to the camera. "Scout, was it?"      He nodded as he leaned back in the chair. "Yeah."      "What did you like to do Before?"      Scout shrugged his shoulders casually, drumming his fingers against his thighs. "I played hockey. I'd say I was pretty good at it. That's about it, though. I sucked in school."      "Hockey? That sounds like fun," she mused, hands in her lap. "And your group. Did you know any of them Before?"      He shook his head, continuing to hold her gaze. "Nope. I was alone for the first, like, two months or something."      Deanna held a hand to her heart, slowly shaking her head as she stared at him sympathetically. "That must have been really hard. Out there, all alone. You're a very brave young man."      The blond gave her a funny look, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um, not really . . . Brave isn't a good adjective for me. Most of the time I just stayed holed up somewhere. Luck is the reason I survived before I met Michonne."      She raised an eyebrow in reply, squinting at him, as if studying him. "I don't think you give yourself enough credit. It's hard to survive out there, even harder when you're alone."      "It doesn't really matter either way," Scout mumbled under his breath, matching her expression and squinting at her. "I'm here today. Might not be here next week. That's all there is to it."      "You will be here next week, Scout," Deanna affirmed with a stern but confident look on her face. "I'm sure of it."      His lips formed a straight line. "Nobody can promise stuff like that." Deanna didn't say anything. "Any more questions for me, officer?"      "Just one," Deanna answered, her bright smile returning on her aging face. "Where do you see yourself a year from now?"      He hummed as he thought about her question, though he didn't really have to think too hard about it. He knew his answer, as cruel as it was.       "The most likely answer is dead. I think most people would answer with that," he replied, beginning to stand from the chair. "I don't mean to sound so dark, but it's very plausible, right? Death was still unavoidable before everything, and now it's even more likely."      "You're very calm when talking about death," Deanna pointed out, silently asking another question.        Scout tucked his hands into the pocket of his dirtied jeans, looking towards the door. "I've seen a lot of people die," he started, thinking of Andrea. Beth, Tyreese, Bob, Hershel. The already endless list always seemed to be growing. "It's become more of a normal thing for us. I still get upset when those around me die, but it's kind of a release from all of this." He paused. "How does this place function?"      She quirked an eyebrow at him, an amused grin on her face. "Everyone around here has a job of sorts. I haven't decided what yours will be, yet."      "I'll take anything that isn't boring," he answered, lifting his shoulders in a shrug before he waved at the camera.      The woman smiled. "Thank you."      The camera stopped recording.            𝜗𝜚            JULIETTE FOUND HERSELF STANDING in front of two different houses. They were both beautiful in their own way, large enough to house multiple people with its two stories. Jules marveled silently at its condition, looking perfect. Nothing like the trashed and looted houses you'd see daily out there.       Growing up, Jules lived in a similar house. Two stories, more than enough room for her and her family. Beautiful photos of her family laid across the walls, the decoration up to par. Then, a few years about her father passed, her mother was forced to move them to a new house. One that was much smaller and not nearly as pretty.       As Jules exited the house she had been interviewed in, her heart had warmed when Rick told her that whatever house he, Carl, and Judith were staying in, that she would be staying in it with them. It felt nice, like she was apart of the Grimes family.       "I'd call dibs on that one," Aaron pointed out, amused as he pointed to the house on the left. "It's got more curb appeal." He smiled at Rick, who didn't return the gesture. "Listen, I know you're still feeling us out, but I'm glad you came. Anyway, Deanna's asked everyone to give you your space so they aren't all coming at you at once. Take your time. Explore. You need anything, you call me." The three of them, Carl, Rick, and Jules raised their eyebrows at him. "I don't—We don't have phones. I—I meant . . I'm four houses down."      For the first time since arriving to Alexandria, Jules cracked a small smile as she nodded at Aaron. "Thank you. For this."      Aaron returned her smile, before leaving the trio alone to their business. Cautiously, Rick led the way up the porch steps, slowly opening the front door with Carl and Jules behind him.       The first sight that greeted her were the empty picture frames lying on a table next to the door. Like the picture frames Jules remembered seeing in her old house, way back when she was a young child.       Rick relaxed the tension in his body slowly as they stepped into the house. Carl moved forward while Rick turned to the left, as did Jules. The decoration was normal. The living room looked to be your average middle-class house. On the dining table lay multiple bundles of clothes. Jules averted her gaze from it all, following Rick and moving to the kitchen where Carl already was.      Jules stood on the other side of the island counter from Carl, tapping her nails against the marbled countertops. Her actions immediately came to a halt as Carl twisted the knob of the sink, listening to the sound of water falling from it. There was running water.       "Running water," Jules breathed, a relieved smile on her lips as she looked at Carl, who looked equally as enthused as she did.      The two dashed up the stairs, and she was thankful for the two different bathrooms. Unfortunately, Rick would have to wait his turn. Jules twisted the doorknob of the bathroom, purposefully avoiding looking at the large mirror above the sink. She stripped herself of her dirtied clothes, somehow not shocked to see clean ones already lying atop of the toilet seat.      She stepped into the shower, fidgeting around with the knobs before she felt the warm water pool on her. She stared down at the drain, watching as a mixture of dirt and blood with the occasional small leaf or twig fell down it. It felt so relaxing and relieving, like she was washing away all of the pain from the last few weeks, too. Who knew the simple act of having a warm shower could be so therapeutic?      As the dirt and blood washed away, it uncovered the girl she was underneath. Bruises littered her legs, and she was able to see the scar on her hand from back at the farm when she rode with Lori in search of Rick.      Eventually, the water ran cold, and Jules knew she had been in there for far too long. She stepped out of the shower, a soft towel awaiting her, hanging on a hook to the left of the mirror. She wiped the water from her body, before changing into the fresh clothes that had been awaiting her. It felt nice to be clean, she thought, until she finally looked into the mirror.      Her hair was a mess of waves and curls matted together, and maybe now she would start to regret never stealing the comb Scout used from time to time. Her hands slowly reached up to her eyes, pressing down into the darkened eye bags that had been weighing her eyes down. It made her stomach twist, knowing that the sight before her is what everyone saw when they looked at her.       She couldn't dwell on something as silly as her appearance, because with the world they lived in now, that was the least of everyone's concerns. Jules pulled open the medicine cabinet, thankful for the hairbrush staring back at her, before attempting to brush through her hair.      She gave up after ten minutes. She had managed to brush out most of the knots, but the worst of it was evident at the ends of her hair. She supposed she would just cut off a couple inches of her hair to save herself the trouble.      Jules stepped out of the bathroom, now wearing dark-washed jeans paired with a white tank-top and navy blue cardigan. Slowly making her way down the steps, she realized Rick and Carl both showered in the time it took her to shower once. A shirtless Rick stood at the bottom of the stairs, and Jules picked up on his freshly shaven face.      "Wow," Jules mused teasingly as she made her way to stand next to the man. "Aged ten years younger."      "Thanks." Rick simply rolled his eyes at her, beginning to walk away with her, only for them both to freeze at the sight of a blonde woman standing at the door, carrying a basket of toiletries with a bright smile.       "Does everyone here have a permanent smile on their face?" Jules questioned quietly, mostly to herself, but she earned a look from Rick nonetheless and he stepped forward to open the door.      "Hey. I work in the pantry," the woman greeted, gesturing to the large brown basket she held. "Deanna asked me to bring these over for you and your friends."      Rick nodded, taking the basket from her hands with a gruff, "Thank you." Jules looked between Rick, who still had shaving cream on his jaw (she didn't say anything earlier in hopes someone else would point it out and embarrass him, and it seemed her plan had worked) and was shirtless, and over to the unnamed woman. She was definitely pretty, and had to be around Rick's age, so the sight of Rick standing there awkwardly without a shirt brought amusement to Jules. "We were just cleaning up."      The woman smiled, before looking down at Rick's chin. "You still have shaving cream on your chin," she pointed out, and Jules had to muffle a giggle with her hand, causing Rick to shoot a harmless glare at the girl as he attempted to wipe it off on his shoulder. "I'm Jessie," she, Jessie, introduced, finally turning her attention to the girl with a smile.      "Rick," he answered with a nod.      "Juliette, but you can call me Jules," Jules greeted, hands folded together, feeling more awkward now that the woman had directed her attention to her.       "A beautiful name," Jessie complimented softly, nodding at Jules, before looking between the two. "You know, I used to be a stylist. And twelve other things. I could give you two a cut if you want."      Jules blinked. It was like an angel had sent Jessie to her, because right now, Jules's biggest concern had been cutting her hair, and now she had a solution. Rick seemed to be thinking otherwise, though, when he answered with, "You don't even know us."      Jessie nodded, her smile tighter. "I can take care of myself."      Once again, Jules had the opportunity of going first. She sat down in a chair, and she was relieved to find out this must have been a regular thing for Jessie, because she was quick to pull out scissors and a comb. A blanket was thrown over Jules's shoulders as she faced away from the blonde-haired woman.      "Three inches off, right?" Jessie questioned lightly, to which Jules wordlessly nodded her head. "Is this okay with your . . . "      "Rick isn't my dad," she blurted out, looking down at her feet, which now wore fresh, white socks. "We're not related. Nor do I have a mother." She heard Jessie hum in reply, then beginning to work on her hair. "My uncle worked with him Before. He's no longer around, so Rick kind of took me in." Jules doesn't know why she's telling the woman all of this, but a voice in the back of her head told her this information was safe with Jessie.      Jessie didn't reply right away, instead nodding her head in acknowledgment. "I don't have any daughters your age, but I do have two sons. Ron is a little younger than you, and Sam is younger than that. Ron hangs out with a girl named Enid. You might hit it off with her."      "That woman, um . . Deanna . . mentioned her," Jules answered quietly, thinking back to the interview, and the brief mention of this girl.      A moment of silence brushed over the two. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't exactly comfortable for Jules, either. Jessie was still a stranger to her, after all.      Slowly, she watched as her hair fell to the floor around her. She did have a lot of hair, and it often did give her problems, especially during the End, so maybe it'd be better to have shorter hair.      "Thank you," Jules mumbled as Jessie picked up the blanket that had been wrapped around her shoulders in order to catch the hair.      "Of course," Jessie said, smiling as she tucked away her supplies. "Any time."      With that, Jules searched for Rick in the house, alerting him that he could have his haircut now.      By the time his haircut was finished, their entire group had come over to their house, some out on the porch, some in the living room. Rick had told everyone that for the first night, they'd all stay in the same house, for safety reasons.       Jules sat outside on the porch steps, elbow on her knee, chin in the palm of her hand as she looked at the view in front of her. Alexandria looked completely normal, like an apocalypse wasn't happening around them. The people seemed to behave the same way, like they didn't have problems other than what they should cook for dinner.       "Hey," a voice greeted, causing her to turn her head to the boy plopping down next to her. It was Scout, of course, because he never seemed to be able to stay away from her for longer than an hour. She took in his appearance. His hair was wet from the shower, and he no longer had dirt covering his face. He was dressed in a plain white button down paired with slacks. He looked normal.      "Hi. Don't you look spiffy," Jules said sarcastically, a small and playful smile on her lips as she watched him lean back against the steps.      He shook his head with a roll of his eyes. "I look and feel ridiculous. I couldn't find any clothes other than ones that make me look like I'm about to go to a middle school dance."      "The running water and electricity makes it worth it, though," Jules replied, her smile more genuine as she looked forward again.       "At first I was envious of these people, since they've been able to sit here nicely without having to worry about a biter coming up and snacking on them," Scout began, leaning back on his elbows, "but the more I think about it, I'm not. None of them know what it's like being out there, and if this place fails like it's bound to happen, they're defenseless."      Jules glanced at him curiously. "That's a bit harsh, don't you think? Maybe they have, like, training classes or something. Like Carol secretly did back at the Prison."      "Doubtful. These people seem too happy," the blond answered with a shrug. "Reminds me of when I first went to Woodbury."      "Yikes. Was your interview with Deanna bad? She didn't seem that harmful."      "No, no, no. Reminds me of Woodbury minus the leader. Like, just the weak people who seem to think they don't have any problems. Deanna seems fine," Scout assured, shaking his head. "Guess we'll have to wait and see how Alexandria really is."      "I don't know, but I hope it lasts," she whispered. Footsteps coming in their direction startled her, quickly whipping her head around to whoever had been walking towards them. Her eyes met a smiling Deanna, who gave a small wave at Jules. Jules looked to Scout, who seemed equally as confused.       "I don't mean to intrude," Deanna started as she got close enough, standing in front of the steps as Jules and Scout slowly rose from their seats. "I see you two got cleaned up."      Jules glanced at Scout, silently pleading that he'd do all the talking for them. He seemed to pick up on her silent pleas, because he cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah. Feels great to not be sweaty and dirty for once."       Deanna chuckled lightly, nodding her head. "Well, I just wanted to stop by and inform you two of your jobs."      "Jobs?" Jules questioned, blinking. This had been the first time she heard about jobs. Looking at Scout, it seemed he had already heard about this.      "Everyone around here contributes one way or another," Deanna explained, clasping her hands together. "And I have the perfect ones for you. Jules, I think you'd be a wonderful addition to our medical department. You've met Jessie, right?"       Jules couldn't say she was surprised, but she also didn't think she'd be of much use there. If anything, Maggie knows more about medical procedures than Jules does. And, she also happened to freeze under pressure. She didn't speak any of these concerns aloud to Deanna, though. So, she simply nodded.      "Jessie's husband, Pete, is the current doctor. Once you're all settled in, I'll be sure to introduce you guys," Deanna explained, and Jules seemed to relax a tad. Jessie had been very hospitable, so she could only assume her husband was the same way.      "Thank you," Jules answered quietly, continuing to nod her head, watching as Deanna turned her attention to Scout.      "Now, I had to give your job a little more thought," the older woman joked. "I was torn between having you be a Supply-Runner and a Recruiter. Getting supplies because, well, you have experience being alone for long periods of time, and I think you're very capable. Recruiting people because you were also very charming when I first spoke to you."      Scout cracked a smirk, before playing it off and acting as though Deanna hadn't just inflated his ego. "Well, I'm flattered."      Jules couldn't help the frown that was making its way into her lips as she watched the taller boy. Did he even realize what her words entailed? How dangerous it was? That after everything, that when they finally found somewhere safe to hunker down, he was perfectly okay with being scooted off back out there?      Deanna nodded with a laugh. "With Eric's injury, it seems he'll be out of commission for a little bit, so I finally settled on Recruiter. Do you think you're up for that challenge?"      "Yeah, sure. I'm pretty malleable."      "Wonderful. I'll be back tomorrow to give you guys more information," Deanna finished, giving a grateful nod to each of them, before making her departure.      Almost immediately did Jules turn to look at Scout again, frown deepening. "Why didn't you tell her that you wouldn't take the job?"      Scout looked at her confusedly as he placed a hand on the railing of the porch like he was about to walk up them, but pausing at the sound of her voice. "Huh? Why would I do that?"      "A recruiter? Listen to how dangerous that sounds."      Scout released a sigh, before completely turning towards her, laying two of his hands out. "Okay, I think you need to calm down for a second. It's fine. I'll be fine. I'm not stupid, and I know what I'm getting myself into. Aaron has experience, alright? I'll learn from him."      "It's not fine," she countered with a huff, too in her swarming thoughts to take into account how ridiculous she sounded in the moment. "People out there—they're—they're bad people, you know that."      "Which is why I'll be careful, Jules. Don't worry about it, seriously," he replied, raking a hand through his hand, growing irritated with her lack of faith in him. "It's not like I'm going out there right away. I'm sure Aaron will go with me the first couple times."      Jules let out a breath, releasing the tension from her shoulders, holding her head and closing her eyes. "Sorry, I just—My mind has been a little . . off today."      The agitation in his head dissipated as she apologized, also noting her somewhat troubled expression. When someone was upset, he should probably be the last one there to console them, because he never knew what to do or say. And, most of the time, he says something and just makes the situation worse. But, seeing Jules in such a state made him want to try.      "You just need some rest," he started, cringing at the blank tone of his voice, trying to lighten it a bit. "This whole thing is overwhelming, I'm sure. You'll feel better in the morning."      She nodded slightly, rubbing her face momentarily, before mustering a smile. "Yeah, you're probably right."      "As always," he hummed, before patting her shoulder. "Now, let's go see if there's any food in the fridge."      "It's been a while since we've had anything other than worms."             end of x.   documenting ▬▬

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chapter eleven.   red-handed  ﹙season five, episode twelve﹚remember                        THAT NIGHT, THE ENTIRE group stayed in one house. More specifically, all in the living room.      They all laid out blankets and comforters on the floor, all choosing different spots of the room to hunker down for the night. Jules had decided to make camp in the direct center of the room on the rug, right next to Tara.       A knock at the door caught all of their attentions from their spots, making Jules look up just as she had sat down on her blanket. Rick answered the door, revealing an auburn-haired woman: Deanna.       "Rick, I—" she started, before taking in Rick's new appearance. A clean one, that is. "Wow." Rick let out a quiet groan, already knowing where this was leading. "I didn't know what was under there. Listen, I—I don't mean to interrupt, I just wanted to stop by and see how you were all settling." Deanna turned her head, now noticing the whole group sitting around. "Oh, my. Staying together. Smart."      "No one said we couldn't," Rick replied, narrowing his eyes slightly at her amused tone.       "You said you're a family. That's what you said," Deanna countered with a proud smile. "Absolutely amazing to me how people with completely different backgrounds and nothing in common can become that. Don't you think?"      "Everybody says you gave them jobs," Rick replied with instead.       Deanna hummed with a nod. "Yeah. Part of this place. Looks like the communists won after all," she joked with a laugh, though Rick hardly returned.      "Well, you didn't give me one."      "I have," Deanna answered, a knowing look in her eye. "I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne." She looked at where Michonne stood from over Rick's shoulder. "I'm closing in on something for Sasha. And I'm just trying to figure Mister Dixon out, but I will." She smiled at Rick, before moving out of the doorway. "You look good." Then, she left.      Rick shut the door behind the woman, and soon after all lights had been turned off.      That night, Jules dreamt of her mother. It had been a while since she's had a dream quite like this, one that was normal and reflected their life Before together realistically.       The dream started off at an aquarium. Juliette got out of her broken-down car, the large building looming over her and her mother, Hannah. Her heart was elated, feeling like she was walking on air instead of burning rocks. The scene was filled with joyous laughs and shared, comforting words.       For once, the dream didn't turn into a nightmare.             𝜗𝜚            THE NEXT MORNING, THE group was tasked with the idea of exploring all of Alexandria. The thought of talking to strangers, of being around the unfamiliar community without anyone else brought worries to her, so she made sure to have Scout with her. He had a knack for directing conversations to himself.      They walked the streets, both unsure and tentatively looking over their shoulders every once in a while. It took a while for Jules to realize that it was just sheer instinct, and not because she felt she had to.      "Have you met Jessie, yet?" Jules asked, glancing down at the freshly plants flowers on the side of the roads.      "Not from what I remember. Just Deanna and Aaron," Scout replied, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "They both don't seem normal. So smiley."      Jules raised an eyebrow at him, looking over at him. "That's kind of hypocritical of you, Romeo. You're pretty smiley."      To which the boy pouted, turning away. "I smile out of nervousness. And if I smile genuinely, it's not creepy." She stared at him blankly, and immediately he faltered. "It's not creepy, is it?"      Bursting into giggles, Jules quickly shook her head, waving a hand at him dismissively. "I was just messing with you."      His pout only deepened, until he turned his head forward once more. He stopped walking, causing Jules to look over at him with confusion. "Two people, twelve o'clock."      Jules whipped her head around to where he was facing, and sure enough, an elderly couple had been walking towards them, hand-in-hand. "Great," Jules said underneath her breath, crossing her arms. "I really don't want to talk to anyone right now."      "You're talking to me." Jules deadpanned as Scout shrugged his shoulders, smiling at her lightly. "I'll do all the talking if you want."      She glanced at him, raising an eyebrow playfully. "Since when did you get so sweet?"      Before he could reply, the two people had reached them, much to Jules's dismay, but she plastered a pretend smile on her face nonetheless. "Hi," Scout greeted, a forceful smile on his face as well. He stuck out his hand towards the grinning elders in a greeting, the woman propping herself up with a cane. "Um, Aaron recruited us. We got here yesterday."      The man accepted Scout's greeting, warmly shaking his head. "I'm John, and this is my wife Gretchen."      "It's, uh, great to meet you," Scout answered awkwardly, his smile crooked and unsure, only confirming his latest point when he said he only smiled out of nervousness. "I'm Scout, and this is Juliette." Jules nodded at the duo, her arms crossed as she continued to muster a smile.      "What beautiful names for beautiful faces. It's lovely seeing a young couple. We don't get to see much of that nowadays," the woman, Gretchen, spoke, her voice gravelly.      Jules could feel her cheeks burning and her heart stuttering in her chest (which she made a strong effort to ignore) before hurriedly shaking her head as Scout tumbled out words, "That's not—We're not—No, no . . . We're friends."      She watched in utter horror as the couple shared a very obvious and knowing look with one another, one that Scout must have picked up on. "I hope you warm up to Alexandria well," the man, John, said with a smile, and Jules was grateful for the subject change. She smiled appreciatively with a nod. "I suppose we'll be getting out of your hair now."      Jules was even more grateful as she watched the elderly couple nod before departing, walking past them. She released a breath she hadn't known she was holding. "Is that what hazing is?"      "Hazed by two old people," Scout hummed dryly, dragging his feet as he began walking once more. "I guess we're getting the college experience now."      After making a few laps around Alexandria and getting accustomed to the (escape routes) sights. They returned back to the house, seeing Daryl sitting on the porch as Carol was just walking down the porch steps. Carol's appearance was a stark contrast to Daryl's. The former wore a buttoned-up light blue cardigan with a pair of jeans, freshly out of a shower, while Daryl looked the same he did when they all got to Alexandria.       "Almost didn't recognize you," Scout mused lightly, hands on his hips as Carol stopped in front of the two teens.       Carol rolled her eyes, looking very unamused as a laugh escaped Jules lips. "Glad you two are keeping up appearances, unlike someone," she replied, purposefully raising her voice so the man on the porch could hear. Daryl's head turned to look down at them, proceeding to raise his fist to flip her off. She ignored him, before a cheery expression crossed her face. "I just finished baking cookies. If you hurry, they might still be warm and toasty."       Jules immediately grimaced, shaking her head. "That's not a good look on you."      Carol's forced face fell into a more exhausted one. "Was I at least a little convincing?"      "Way too artificial. Try bringing it down a bit," Scout offered with a teasing grin, watching as Carol shook her head, patting Jules on the shoulder before going out to explore like Rick suggested.       Jules walked up the porch steps, watching Daryl fidget with his bow, before making her way into the house. She figured she had gotten enough exploration down for one day, and now since it had seemed they were going to staying in Alexandria much more permanently, it made sense to go ahead and pick out her room.      She could hear Scout's footsteps following close behind her as they made their way through the living room, then up the stairs. One door was already closed, and she could only assume either Rick or Carl had already claimed it as their own. So, she walked down the hallway to the very last door, which was slightly ajar.       The last time she had been in a room, a proper room, was all the way back at the Greene's house in Atlanta. "Home sweet home, huh?" Scout mumbled as Jules stepped into the room, before glancing back at the boy himself who stood in the doorway.      "You weren't going to walk into a girl's room without permission, were you?" Jules asked, dramatically placing a hand over her heart, feigning offense and shock.      "Thought we were past that, Juliette." She watched as he practically strolled into the room, looking around at the mild decor. She decided to ignore him momentarily, doing the same. "Looks cozy."      There were a few empty picture frames hanging on the walls, another couple of pictures of floral patterns hanging up. Her gaze flickered over to the queen-sized bed lying in the middle of the room that looked like it hadn't been slept in; three plush pillows and a heavy, white comforter. In front of the bed was a dark brown dresser, sitting right in front of one of the two windows in the room. The windows had the curtains drawn, letting in the sunlight. It looked perfectly normal. Jules couldn't decide if that was good or bad.      "I still don't know how to feel about this," Jules admitted quietly, sucking in a deep breath as she slowly sat down on the edge of the bed. Well, now it was her bed. "I mean, just a few days ago we were all on the brink of dehydration, and now I have my own room?"      Scout casually took a seat next to her, the two of them staring out the second-story window. "It seems too easy. All of this stuff was just . . handed to us. It's taking a lot of to convince myself this is even real."      Jules glanced at him, taking in his side-profile. It had been a while since she'd seen him without dirt or blood on his face, and instead just simply him. Messy blond hair, his sharp features more softer and relaxed. "It'll take some getting used to, that's for sure. After a month or two, I'm sure it'll be fine."      "Guess you're right," the blond answered, a small grin making its way to his face as he turned to meet her gaze. "Kinda disappointed you got stuck in the medical field. We won't get to do runs together anymore, like back at the prison."      A strange, but all too familiar feeling welled in her heart. It was a feeling that kept happening more and more lately, and she didn't know why or what it meant. "Why? Can't do anything right without me?" she quipped, subconsciously fidgeting with her fingers.      He didn't reply right away, instead looking down at his own hands displayed on his lap, his grin more wobbly. "Hey, um, do you think right now is a good time?"      "Good time for what?" As soon as the question left her lips, the realization sank in. Her eyes grew wide, and she was sure her cheeks rivaled that of a tomato. "You were being serious? I . . . Are you being serious right now?"      "Why wouldn't I be?" he shot back, meeting her eyes, and immediately did Jules feel her stomach flutter. There no hint of that usual playfulness or teasing in his eyes, nor was there a devious grin resting on his lips. He wasn't just messing with her.       She exhaled breathily, unsure of what to do. She's never been put in a situation even remotely close to this one: sitting on a bed next to a very cute boy who wants to kiss her.       But she couldn't let his charm and pleasant-looking face cloud her judgment. Like a switch flipped inside her, she stood from the bed, shaking her head. "Scout, what does this all mean? I've never done anything like this before, but I do know I'm not the type to just do it for fun, or for the hell of it."      His face fell as he watched her move away, copying her actions and pulling himself to his feet. "What?"      Jules buried her face in her hands momentarily, trying to gather her thoughts. "Are you just using me to feel good or something?" she clarified, though as soon as she said it, she realized how stupid it sounded. The insecure part of her mind was taking over the more rational side. This was Scout she was talking to, not some random boy she didn't know.       After a few seconds of silence, Jules slowly lifted her hands from her face, finally looking at Scout, who stood in front of her in the silly outfit he had to wear with a soft expression. "I want to, not just because it'd be fun, but because I like you. And, if you aren't ready, or don't want to, then we don't have to."      His answer seemed to warm her heart and calm her nerves, the insecurities in her mind dissipating. "Okay, that's . . okay. You can kiss me, now."      The first thing she felt was the tentativeness of his cool hands on her warm cheeks. Jules could hear his steady breathing, (she was sure her own was anything but steady), and could feel it on her face. It was nerve wracking, because she wasn't sure if she should make any moves or not, so she stood there lamely with her eyes closed and her hands resting down at her sides. That's when she felt it: the soft brush of his lips over hers.       As Juliette decides to press her lips to his to finally connect them properly, to really see what his lips feel and taste like, the door is being pushed open, and they're both immediately jumping apart. Her eyes grow wide as she turned her head to look at the intruder, feeling absolutely mortified as Rick stares back at them, looking equally confused and shocked.      "I thought Carl was in here," Rick explained himself after no one said anything for what felt like hours. Jules slowly nodded while Scout tapped his foot casually while looking anywhere but at the man of the hour, trying to act like whatever happened didn't just happen. Jules thought matters couldn't get any worse until Rick added, "I want this door to stay opened, got it?"      "Oh, my God," Jules mumbled, watching as Rick turned and left.      "Do you think he saw us?" Scout asked, his voice low and serious, but Jules could tell he was anything but serious.             end of xi.   red-handed ▬▬

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chapter twelve.   only if you want to  ﹙season five, episode twelve﹚remember                      
somewhere between season three and four

— past
   "THIS TASTES TERRIBLE," THE girl mumbled, a pout pulling at her lips as she sat in front of the fire, the only light aside from the moon illuminating her dirt-covered face. She wore rags, though it still provided comfort of privacy given her current circumstances. In between her two, small hands, laid a can of peaches. Expired, but not to the point where it would harm her. According to her mother, that is. It wasn't like they couldn't take the risk, anyway. Canned fruit was about all they had left.      "I'm sorry," her mother replied, her voice low and dry as she, too, stared down at the flame sitting in between the lone duo. "I'll set out in the morning . . . If you're okay with being alone for a little while."      The brunette's lips formed a thin line as she glanced up at her mother, before shrugging her shoulders absentmindedly. "I am a teenager now. I think I'll be fine alone. If not, it's just natural selection taking place, right?"      Almost immediately did the woman's lips form a frown, her gaze snapping to her daughter's. "Don't say something like that. I don't find it funny, Rory." The girl, Rory, simply rolled her eyes in reply, not verbally saying anything more as silence washed over them.      Conversations between them usually went like this. A few words and sentences would be exchanged, ending off on a bad note, and then silence would commence for a few days before the other decided to strike up a new conversation that didn't involve what their next meal would be. Something more normal. Normal things were rare those days, so conversations about normal things hardly ever happened. It was always about survival. Whether or not they'd see tomorrow. Certainly not something a thirteen year-old girl should be wondering, but that's just how it was, and Rory had grown accustomed to it.      "Maybe we should go with him," Rory said aloud, feigning nonchalance as she set aside her expired peaches, instead lying back on her hands, ignoring the twigs and leaves digging into the palms of her hands.       Him being a man they had stumbled upon not too long ago. Well, more like he had stumbled upon them. He was alone, or appeared to be at least, and looked way too clean to be living in an apocalypse. He usually wore clean clothes, wielded a concerning-looking-bat (that he assured her he wouldn't use it on her; though, she wasn't sure if he was joking or not), and was probably a few years older than her mother judging by his greying hairs. He offered to take the two of them to his . . community, as he had described it. Her mother immediately shot the notion down. However, the man didn't seem to want to take no for an answer, and continued to pester them from time to time when their paths crossed. Rory was starting to think he did it on purpose. Well, more like she knew he was doing it on purpose. Not that she minded too much. He was about the only other person she had seen since the whole thing started, and he was able to make her laugh. Even though the things he said were often crude.      Rory could feel a glare burning into the side of her face as she occupied herself with looking around at the trees surrounding them, acting as though it didn't bother her. "We've already talked about this, Rory. I don't want to hear it again."      "Right, whatever, you don't trust him. But shouldn't we just take the risk and find out? It looks like he gets to shower. When was the last time we got to take a shower?" the girl replied with a huff, like what she was saying was obvious. "He's not going to leave us alone. He knows we'll eventually give in."      "Eat," Hannah snapped, the eye bags weighing the woman's eyes down. She's gotten good at ignoring the feeling. "I'll leave early in the morning and get back before you wake."      Rory's jaw tightened, her teeth gritting together as she looked back down at her sad excuse of fruit. "I can't have an opinion anymore. Whatever I say means nothing, and you don't listen to me. Sometimes I'm not allowed to talk about certain things. I think it's real screwed up that I can't even talk about Ju—"      "Rory, tent. Now," Hannah bit back as soon as the words left Rory's mouth, the woman looking as though someone had taken a knife to her gut.       Maybe the girl would have been more upset with her mother, but it was honestly like deja vu for her at this point. It wouldn't take long for her mother to snap at her and increase the already wide distance between them. Rory stood from the dirt-ground with a huff, making her way to her small tent.       "If we went with him, you'd probably be able to send me to an actual room," she grumbled under her breath, before entering and zipping the tent halfway closed. (A safety measure of sorts. Her mother said if they ever needed to leave their current resting spot quickly, it'd be a problem if the zipper got stuck, or it was just overall difficult to unzip it). As soon as Rory had settled into the bundle of not-so-clean blankets, she took out a small strip of polaroid pictures. When the girl was feeling particularly down or peeved, she'd look at the various pictures. Which, was almost every day.      The pictures consisted of herself and an older girl from a couple of years ago. Her and her older sister. Before everything; before her sister left to stay with their uncle. It was the last time Rory had seen her, and now she and her mother were in the dark about her sister's condition. Her mother seemed to already think she was dead. Rory didn't want to believe it. She'd be lying to herself if she said she didn't hold out a small bit of hope that Juliette would somehow find her.      As Rory stared at the pictures, she knew this was going to be another sleepless night.            𝜗𝜚           
season five, episode twelve

— present
  IT FELT WRONG TO her. Feeling the slightest bit of happiness. Feeling sorta safe. Not when everyone before her hadn't gotten the chance to feel like that.       Juliette stared down at her book blankly, having reread the same sentence over and over again, not being able to process the words as her head had been too jumbled up. This felt weird. Sitting in the living-room of her new, clean house, in her new, clean clothes, reading peacefully alongside her friend (she had made Scout read The Bell Jar). She didn't have to worry about where her next meal came from, or whether or not the sogginess in her shoes is blood or water. She didn't have to worry about which one of her friends was going to die next, every second of her waking hours.      The one nagging thought in her head was how long would this last? Atlanta, the C.D.C., the Greene's farm, the prison, Terminus . . . None of it lasted.      The feeling of something nudging her foot brought her back to reality, her gaze flickering down to where Scout's foot (with a clean sock; can you believe it?) lightly tapped against her own. "You doing okay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.      Jules shrugged her shoulders, heaving a sigh as she leaned her head against the back of the couch. "I guess? I don't know, this is all so . . weird. I feel like I can't relax completely, but at the same time I don't want to relax."      She watched as the blond's face immediately fell, a blush creeping up on his face as he subtly shifted away from her. "Oh, okay. Yeah . . I understand. You want space, no problem. I'll just, um . . . "      Jules blinked owlishly, before rolling her eyes as the realization dawned on her. "Scout, that's not what I was talking about."      His shoulders visibly sagged with relieved as he let out a low whistle followed by a breathy laugh, relaxing into the couch cushions once more. "Sweet. I was, like, freaking out on the inside, 'cause I was totally convinced you liked the kiss. But then you started zoning out like an hour after the fact."      "You're overthinking it. If I didn't like you, I wouldn't have asked you to kiss me," Jules assured, shaking her head as she raised it to fully face him. "Anyway, like I said, that's not at all what I was talking about. I meant . . this. Being clean, having fresh clothes. It doesn't feel right."      "You're overthinking it," he tossed back, his shoulders lifting before dropping again as he glanced down at the book resting in his hands. "It's because it's all new for you. You'll get used to it eventually."      Jules nodded slowly, considering his words. She really hoped it was that simple, that she was just thinking about it too hard, and that eventually this place would feel like a home.      For now, all she had to worry about is not having enough time to finish the current book she was reading.             end of xii.   only if you want to ▬▬

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chapter thirteen.   deeper  ﹙season five, episode twelve﹚remember                        HE DIDN'T WANT TO be alone tonight, he had said. He always slept better when she was around him, he said. He said a lot of things, each word making Juliette's heart twist oddly in her chest, to the point where she had been broken down.      So when she finally was able to sleep in a clean bed not in the middle of nowhere without having to worry about something crawling on her in her sleep, she hadn't expected to be sharing it with someone. The bed was large enough for the two of them to lay on their backs without touching, but Jules swore she could feel the body heat radiating off of him.       It felt weird. Sure, Jules had slept next to Scout countless times. After the prison fell, she's sure ninety-percent of those nights following was spent with her leaning her head against his shoulder to sleep. And, there had to be a time or two where she fell asleep on her prison cot while reading a book next to Scout. (Who claimed he was just there because he was bored and had nothing better to do than annoy her, but Jules was so sure after he started asking questions about the books she had been reading. Almost like he was following along with the pages, not that he'd ever admit to reading).      However, despite the many times she's slept next to or even on him, it never felt quite like this. It was a hard feeling to describe, she thought silently, as she bit her bottom lip and stared up at the white ceiling of her room rather stiffly. The moonlight creeped in through the curtains, lighting up half of the room. And despite the overall comforting atmosphere of a comfortable bed paired with her best friend next to her, she couldn't seem to fall asleep. The more she thought about the weird feeling trickling down from her chest to the pit of her stomach, the more a word formed to match it: intimate. Sleeping against a tree together was far different than sleeping in a bed together. Why did she agree to this in the first place? Scout also had a house to return with, and it only housed Michonne, so it wasn't like his house was crowded.       The more she thought about it the more she felt silly for entertaining him. There was an unspoken rule for sleeping in bed with a boy while under someone else's roof. Or, well, there was before the apocalypse. Now that she didn't exactly have parents, and now that most rules in society no longer applied, she wasn't sure where exactly that unspoken rule stood.      "You okay?" The sound of his groggy voice had Jules's body stiffening further, like she had been caught doing something she shouldn't be. But she wasn't doing anything but laying on her back, so why did she feel like that?      Jules slowly shifted her gaze from the ceiling over to the boy laying his head on the pillow beside her, and immediately did she regret her decision. He was just so close, close enough to where she could count his eyelashes. Not that she wanted to do that. "Why wouldn't I be?" she questioned back quietly, a frown making its way onto her lips.       Her answer seemed to be less than satisfactory for the boy, because he was pulling away with a slight wince, sitting up against the headboard. "I can think of a few reasons, and most of them make me feel guilty."      Raising an eyebrow in confusion, Jules copied his actions, sliding up in the way too comfortable bed, before hugging her knees to her chest.      Her silence continued on as she looked at him expectedly, so he looked away with a sigh. "I can like . . sleep on the floor, or something." Jules stared at him blankly. "Oh, God, this is so awkward. I didn't think it'd be this weird. Maybe we shouldn't have kissed, because now it's weird again? I mean, we've slept together before, and that was totally cool! Wait, no, not like that—"      "Just stop talking," Jules replied with a sigh, quietly shushing him. "You're reading too far into this. Which is funny for me to say, because usually you're the one telling me that." When Scout simply blinked in reply, she continued, "Look, i'm the one who agreed to this, so you have no reason to feel guilty. And, as for the kiss thing, which probably isn't even classified as one since Rick walked in, we should probably actually talk about it. I don't think I was clear enough about my feelings."      Scout's shoulders seemed to sag as he processed her words, looking less like a kicked puppy now as he slowly nodded in acknowledgment. "Yeah . . . Talk. Talking's good. Communication, you know, the thing we've been working on together . . good stuff . . . "      If the situation was different, Jules would have made some teasing remark at his ramblings, because like she said earlier, normally it was the other way around. She usually was the one being a dork. Or, maybe he always had been one as well, but she was too busy paying attention to herself to notice.      "I do like you, Scout, and I shouldn't have to kiss you to express that. I want to show you in other ways," Jules started, voice hushed, which was still loud considering just how quiet it was in the room. "And, honestly, I'm kind of glad it wasn't a proper kiss. Because I'd rather wait to do any of that. Until we're settled in Alexandria . . if that ever happens."      Scout seemed to relax altogether, a small smile on his lips, only visible by the moonlight as he then nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's . . yeah. I wanna show you in different ways, too. 'Cause otherwise it just seems like I'm in it for your lips, which I'm not, but they are an added bonus—"      "You can stop talking again," Jules mused lightly, offering a small smile in return, feeling the almost suffocating tension finally leaving the air between them once more.       The boy breathed a shaky bit of laughter at her reply, before sinking back underneath the blankets of her bed, the back of his head against one of the pillows. Once again Jules copied his actions, though she instead leant her head against his shoulder. In turn, Scout tentatively reached down beneath the blanket, finding her hand and gently taking it in his own.       This felt nice. This felt comfortable. This felt . . safe. Something Jules rarely had the ability to feel anymore.      A comfortable silence wafted over them as they stared up at the ceiling, waiting until it felt right to fall asleep. That was, until Scout decided to break the silence, like he often did. "So . . what does this make us, now?"      "What?"      "Like, are we boyfriend-girlfriend now?"      "I don't know . . that doesn't sound quite right. Not yet."      "Star-crossed lovers?"      "Whatever you say, Romeo."      More silence followed as the minutes ticked by. She slept peacefully that night.             end of xiii.   greene ▬▬