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The walls were secured and the storm had ended. The quiet after the storm had arrived.
Carol surveyed the room, while ringing out her soaked hair, everyone around her was sitting peacefully in their little groups.
It was the kind of peace that only comes after the silence of dread. A peace that felt like a deep relieved sigh.
The peace that the adults experience only for a fleeting moment when they realise their families are safe, for now. But it goes oh so quickly when they think of what’s still to come.
But that fear couldn’t be passed on to the children. So Carol watched as they held them tightly, playing with their hair. She looked down and found herself unravelling the thread of the towel, seeing her hands do the same as theirs.
Sophia. She was imaging putting her hands through Sophia’s hair. Whispering to her that it was all ok, that they were safe now.
It dawned on her that if Sophia was here now, she would be much too old to fit the imagined height frame. Old enough that she would have been out there with her and the others fixing the wall, rather than in here with the children.
Because she wouldn’t have been a child. She would have been 24 by now.
She forced herself to drop the towel, she couldn’t think about it. Not now. (She had only been saying not now for the past 12 years)
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To force herself out of that spiral she made her way to the window, examining the damage outside. If she could just keep herself busy, make herself useful, maybe the voices would go away. She just needed to distract herself.
And there was a big distraction staring her right in the face.
They may have won this time. They may have protected Alexandria from the storm. But the war to fix their home was far from over.
It was going to take a lot to bring this place back together. The walls wouldn’t stand forever, no matter how many times they propped them back up - they just kept falling down.
Despite their best efforts a lack of resources and food meant that their progress was always stinted.
It all felt in vein.
It felt pointless. Like they were trying to keep together what was already broken.
It felt like the end of the-
“Hey buddy” a deep voice said suddenly from behind her.
“Hi Jerry” she retorted, preparing herself for his overly optimistic stance.
“You good?”
She hummed in confirmation, but without conviction, “you?”
“Does this remind you of you know-” surprisingly his voice lacked his normal glee (despite whatever paralysing situation they were currently in).
She turned her head round to face him, his eyes didn’t meet hers.
‘What’s going on? What’s wrong Jerry?”
“It reminds me of home. Of the kingdom. In those last few months, we tried so hard to fix it, man. You know?”
“Mh hmm.” she couldn’t bring herself to speak. The Kingdom. That felt like another lifetime ago, one where she still had hope that maybe anything was possible, even fairy tales.
“I miss it you know.” Jerry stated subduley.
“I miss it too.’
She felt a strong hand squeeze her shoulder. Reaching back she put her hand on his.
Jerry brought her a level of comfort that she didn’t find in many other people.
“We’ll be ok. We’ll get this place fixed up, all of us together. And if we can’t we’ll still have each other. No matter where we are, we’ll be in it together”
A singular tear fell from her eye.
She turned round and instantly found herself wrapped in a pair of strong arms. A Jerry hug was a very powerful thing.
She felt herself instantly calm. His calmness, even when all the odds are telling them they’re in unavoidable danger, also made her feel calm too.
The kingdom might have fallen, but the family she has made along the way was always there.
The home in her heart was full and strong.
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Unbeknownst to the pair, or any of the others dotted around, a few miles down the road was a trail of men on horses, led by their very own Eugene Porter. Was their new home on it’s way?