+1
Pattie does hope she hasn’t invited a loon into her house.
But thinking, that’s— That’s a bit crazy. Has the world gotten so bad that laughter is suddenly equated to insanity? Who can laugh in times like these?
“Well, uh—” She let’s out a laugh of her own, a bit breathless and laced with surprise at Rick himself rather than the irony of the situation. Ignorance was such bliss. “There’s a well out back, ya know— I dunno the last time ya had a drink.”
Maybe that was it. Dehydration. She;d seen it before— With both the boys, after a long hunt. Comin’ home half crazy and stumbling.
“M’sorry, did I offer ya somethin’t’eat? Ya hungry, Rick?”
He had to tell her, he had to let her know that one of her son’s was alright.
As far as he knew anyway. He missed Daryl, he wished he had stayed at the prison and had at least tried to find him. Maybe if he had, he would have been able to reunite him with his mother.
“No, wait,” he stuck his hand out, signalling for her to stop. He stood tall, he felt the need to stand up. If he was going to deliver the good news, he would have to do so in a formal manner. He looked to his side, to the pictures of the young boys he had grown to know rather well - aside from Merle.
“Your son is alive,” he started with the good news, knowing that it would not be right for him to mention that Merle was dead straight away.
“Daryl is alive, as far as I know. He was in my group, but we got separated. He’s still alive, it’s not like Daryl to not survive. He’s alive."
