"We're not leaving," Rick growled out as he pushed the magazine into the gun he was holding.

The night had been a long one. Rosie couldn't sleep. She tried, of course, but the man she killed had come to haunt her in her dreams. Daryl had even slept on the bottom bunk in her cell to try and help, but it didn't. She needed to talk about it, but she didn't want to, so she just dealt with it and waited through the sleepless night. Now she was sitting on the top step in the cell block, her chin in her hands as she fought to keep her eyes open, listening to the adults figure out a plan.

"We can't stay here," Hershel said.

"What if there's another sniper?" Maggie said, agreeing with her father. Rosie tensed at the thought of the man, but stayed quiet. "A wood pallet won't stop one of those rounds."

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

"Not in the daylight," Carol added.

"Rick says we're not running, we're not running," Glenn said loudly, his voice tense. He was still angry. Rosie thought it was about Daryl leaving at first, but now Daryl was back, and Glenn was still angry. So it had to be something else.

"No, better to live like rats," Merle's raspy voice said from behind bars. Just looking at him made Rosie angry. She was trying to forgive him, or at least be able to be in the same room has him, but he kept digging himself into a deeper hole. It's like he wanted everyone to hate him.

"You got a better idea?" Rick asked, his tone making it obvious that he was not wanting Merle's input.

Everyone was mad at Merle. The fading bruise on Rosie's cheekbone and the dark bruise around Glenn's eye only served as reminders of what he had done. After Daryl's talk with Rosie the day before, he went right back down to where they were keeping Merle, now knowing that Merle was the one who had hit Rosie, and gave his brother an earful.

"Yeah, we should've slid out of here last night and lived to fight another day. But we lost that window, didn't we?" Merle said. He still had that twisted smile on his face, like everything was fun. "I'm sure he's got scouts on every road out of this place by now."

"We ain't scared a' that prick," Daryl grumbled, pacing across the second floor of the cell block.

"Y'all should be. That truck through the fence thing, that's just him ringin' the doorbell. We might have some thick walls to hide behind, but he's got the guns and the numbers. And if he takes the high ground around this place, shoot, he could just starve us out if he wanted to."

"Can you stop talkin'?" Rosie suddenly asked, looking up from her boots to glare daggers at Merle.

"Yeah, let's put him in the other cell block," Maggie agreed, her voice tense.

"No, he's got a point," Daryl muttered. Rosie rolled her eyes.

"This is all you. You started this," Maggie shouted at Merle.

"What's the difference whose fault it is?" Beth spoke up. She passed by Rosie at the top of stairs and started walking down them, stopping just about in the middle. "What do we do?"

"I said we should leave. Now Axel's dead. We can't just sit here," Hershel said, sitting on the bottom step. Rick looked at him for a moment before walking away, not even trying to address Hershel's concerns. Hershel quickly shot up off of the stairs. "Get back here!" He shouted, his voice loud and strong in a way that Rosie had never heard it before. She tensed at the yelling, but it did manage to make Rick freeze in his spot. "You're slipping, Rick. We've all seen it. We understand why. But now is not the time. You once said this isn't a democracy. Now you have to own up to that. I put my family's life in your hands. So get your head clear and do something."

Hershel's words were harsh and powerful, but Rick needed to hear them. Rosie wasn't sure what exactly was going on with Rick, but she wanted to find out. She knew Rick was slipping, as Hershel put it. She didn't know exactly what that meant, but she thought maybe she could help. At times, Rosie felt like she was slipping too.

So, when Rick left the room, Rosie followed after him quietly, pulling her pants up higher around her waist after she stood up. Rick went out to one of the gates with a pair of binoculars and Rosie stood silently behind him, wondering what he was doing.

"What're you lookin' for?" she asked, stepping forward to Rick's side.

Rick glanced down at her, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "I'm... I'm not looking for anyone," he said.

"Who?" Rosie asked. She hadn't asked who he was looking for, she asked what he was looking for. But Rick answered by saying he wasn't looking anyone, rather than anything, which told Rosie that he really was looking for someone.

Glancing up at the man, Rosie could see Rick staring off into the distance again. He looked sad, she thought, but she wasn't always good at telling what emotions people were feeling. So, Rosie got to thinking. She thought about what Hershel said; We understand why. Why would Rick be slipping? Rosie thought about the past few days- the things that happened. The people they lost. Then it hit her: Lori.

"Are you... lookin' for Lori?" Rosie asked hesitantly. She was scared she might set him off and he'd start yelling again, like she had heard him doing the other day. Rick looked down at her, but quickly looked away again. His eyes were glassy and distant. Rick nodded his head ever-so-slightly, but Rosie caught it. "Oh," she said.

"I've been... seein' her," Rick said slowly, his voice raspy and quiet.

Rosie shrugged her shoulders a little. "I see my brother sometimes. I hear him too. Not even just after, but before, too," she said, keeping her voice soft at the thought of her big brother. "Seen my daddy a couple a' times, too."

Rick didn't say anything, keeping his gaze out at the walker-filled yard.

"Helps me sometimes, but sometimes it makes everythin' worse. Think I imagine 'em or somethin'," Rosie continued, her eyebrows furrowing. She gazed out at the yard, too. It was weird for her to talk about this type of stuff, especially to Rick, but she thought it might make him feel better to know that someone else experienced the same things as he did. Rick looked over at the girl again, but didn't look away this time. "Don't matter though, 'cause they ain't real. I keep remindin' myself," she said.

Footsteps approached from behind the two, and Rosie glanced back. It was Carl. She decided Carl would probably be better and making Rick feel better, because Rick was his dad, after all. So, she went back inside, passing Carl on her way. He gave her a small, fake smile as a short greeting, and Rosie only nodded in response before heading inside.

Walking back inside, Rosie didn't even spare Merle a glance as she walked past him, but, as always, his voice rang out loud and proud. "Hey, sorry about the shiner, kid," he said. With a sigh, Rosie stopped walking and turned to look at him. "Just business."

"Stupid ass business," Rosie muttered, trying to look intimidating, although she knew she wasn't very scary at all.

"You got quite the mouth on ya, don't ya?" Merle commented, chuckling at the blonde girl. Rosie rolled her eyes and left him, heading back into the cell block. She pulled her pants further up her waist, as they were slipping down again. She really needed to find a new belt- or at least something she could use as a belt.

As she walked into the cell block, her eyes scanned the room for a shoelace or an old piece of string, but she came up empty. She was about to go find Maggie and see if she had any ideas, but a short whistle stopped her. She turned towards the whistle to see Daryl, standing at the top of the stairs. "Need to talk to ya," he said. Rosie knew what he wanted to talk about, and she didn't want to talk about any of it at all, but she dragged herself up the steps, anyway.

When she got up the stairs, she followed Daryl into her cell. He sat himself down on the bottom bunk and Rosie stood across from him, waiting for him to say something. He didn't, yet. Instead, he patted the mattress beside him. Rosie sat down next to him, keeping her eyes trained on her red cowboy boots.

"I know I said we could wait, but we gotta talk about it before whatever goes down with Woodbury," Daryl said. He picked up one of Rosie's dinosaur toy's off of the mattress and fiddled with it in his hands as some sort of distraction. "We gotta talk about what happened with the Governor."

Rosie internally groaned. Maggie, Glenn, and Hershel had all tried talking to her about it already, but she wouldn't tell them anything. She didn't understand what happened with the Governor. How could she talk about it if she didn't even understand it?

"Ya a'ready know what happened. Maggie and Glenn were there," Rosie said, avoiding Daryl's eyes.

"I'm talkin' 'bout when they weren't there," Daryl said, trying and failing to get her to meet his eyes. Rosie didn't say anything. "What'd he do in that room?"

"He didn't do nothin' bad until we got to Maggie and Glenn," Rosie said, shrugging a little. She felt uncomfortable again.

"Jus'..." Daryl paused and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment, "tell me everythin' that happened in there, even if it seems like it don't matter." Part of him wanted to just ask her the question directly, but he didn't want to bring something like that up to her unless he had to. Plus, it was just uncomfortable, but it had to be addressed. Rosie needed to be able to talk about what happened.

"Why?" Rosie asked exasperatedly.

"Ya don't always know what's bad and what's good, Ro," Daryl told her.

"Yes I do," Rosie argued, furrowing her eyebrows.

"No, ya don't. It ain't your fault, though."

"I do."

"Ya don't know somethin's wrong until someone tells you that it's wrong. Ya didn't know what your dad was doin' was wrong 'til I told you, remember that?" Daryl asked her, raising his eyebrows a little. Rosie sighed and nodded. "If the Governor did somethin' bad to you, ya might not know it. So I want ya to tell me everythin' he did."

Rosie huffed out a sigh. She pushed herself back onto the bed, leaning her back against the wall and pulling her knees up to her chest. She glared at the dress that was still thrown on the back of the chair in her cell. "He came in and he told me his name was Phillip. Then he told me he got me somethin' and he pulled that stupid dress out of a bag. He told me to put it on and I said no and then he told me I was in Woodbury and that meant I couldn't wear dirty clothes. Then he told me to put the dress on again and I still said no, but then he said he'd kill Glenn and Maggie if I didn't do it. So I took the dress and put it on. Then he said that's not what he needed and he brought me to Glenn and Maggie," she explained quickly, getting it over with as fast as possible.

Daryl stared at her for a moment, thinking of what to say next. "He stayed in there?" he asked, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"What?"

"When you were puttin' on the dress. He stayed in there," he said, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

Rosie nodded her head, avoiding his eyes again. "I thought he was gonna leave, but he didn't. He just stayed there. Lookin'...."

"He touch you?" Daryl asked, feeling the anger that Glenn had been feeling all this time.

"Well, he grabbed me and brought me ta Glenn and Maggie. He was touchin' me then," Rosie said, shrugging a little.

"No, that's not..." Daryl sighed, unsure of how to approach this. He felt uncomfortable having this conversation with her, but he knew she needed to have it. She wouldn't talk to anyone else about it. It had to be him, even if the conversation made him feel sick to his stomach. "He touch you anywhere I ain't ever touched you?" he asked, unsure of how to word it.

Rosie thought about it for a moment. She remembered it clearly. The Governor had touched her arm, her face, and her hair. Those were all places Daryl had touched her before. It didn't brother her so much when Daryl did it, though. It was comforting when Daryl did it, somehow. "No," Rosie said quietly, feeling confused. Daryl let out a somewhat relieved breath.

"Rosie, when he made you put on that dress, and he stayed in there, that was bad," Daryl said, looking the girl in the eyes.

"Oh," Rosie said, feeling stupid.

"It made you uncomfortable, right?" Daryl asked her. She nodded slightly and started picking at the seam on her pants. "That's because it ain't right. Now, listen ta me," Daryl lightly tapped on her leg to get her to look at him again rather than picking at her pants. "If somethin' happens like that- somethin' that makes ya feel uncomfortable, or bad in any way- I want you ta tell me. Or Maggie, or Rick, Glenn, Hershel, Carol- anyone ya trust. Ya hearin' me?"

"Yeah."

"Good. It's important," Daryl said. He sighed and rubbed his eyes for a moment, feeling stressed. This was a very difficult conversation and he hoped that he was doing it justice. She needed to know these things, he just wished it didn't have to be him who had to talk to her about it. But that was a responsibility he carried because he had been the one to take care of her after her dad died, and they only grew closer as time went on. "What about the guard tower?" Daryl asked, moving on to the next difficult topic of discussion.

"I killed that guy," Rosie said, scrunching her face up at the thought of the dead man.

"You had to," Daryl told her. He glanced over at her just to see her picking at the seam of her pants again. He nudged her with his elbow, making sure she was listening. "You had to. I'm sorry ya had to, but you did. To keep your family safe."

"I know," Rosie mumbled out. She wasn't used to referring to these people as her family just yet, but that's what they were.

"That guy did that to himself. He went into that knowin' he wasn't gonna make it out of that tower. And if he was stupid enough ta think he'd make it out alive, that's his own damn fault," Daryl said. Rosie nodded, but the image of the man in her head still didn't go away. "We didn't do nothin' to those people. They chose to take ya and do what they did, so we went there and we got you back. If they wouldn'ta come here, we woulda left 'em alone. But they came here anyway. So that guy dyin'- that's his own fault. Doesn't matter if it was you who pulled the trigger, it was him who made that decision."

"Still feels bad," Rosie murmured.

"I know, but ya did the right thing. It was hard, but you did it. And I'm proud of ya for that," Daryl said, his eyebrows raised a little. The word proud hit Rosie like a bag of bricks, making some strange feeling appear in her heart. She found herself wanting to smile a little, but she twisted her lips up instead, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip. "A'right?" Daryl asked her.

"Yeah," Rosie whispered out.

Daryl was about to go on to tell her that if it came down to it, she'd have to be prepared to do it again, but before he could say anything else, Rick returned to the cell block, calling out Daryl's name. Apparently, he was ready to come up with a plan. Before getting up off of the bed, Daryl placed his hand on Rosie's knee and squeezed a little. Then he left the cell to go talk to Rick.

Rosie was about to go and find Maggie for something to use as a belt, but the moment she left her cell, she was stopped again. But this time, it was Beth who stopped her. "Hey, Rosie," Beth said, smiling. She didn't have the baby in her arms, which was unusual. "Can I braid your hair?"

"What?" Rosie asked, furrowing her eyebrows a little.

"Can I braid your hair? Please? It'll be fun. I swear," Beth said, leaning on the railing. Rosie shrugged. "Come on, I have hair ties in my cell." Beth took hold of Rosie's hand and started pulling her down to her cell. When they got in, Rosie stood awkwardly by the doorway as Beth went towards her backpack. When Beth turned back around, Rosie was pulling her pants higher up her waist again. "Oh, you lost your belt, didn't you? I have some shoelaces in my bag, if you want."

"Yes, please," Rosie said, holding her hands together behind her back. Beth started digging through her backpack and this time when she turned around, she had a dirty, white shoelace in her hands.

"Here," Beth said, handing Rosie the lace. "Put that on then sit down and I'll braid your hair." Rosie nodded, then slid the lace through the belt loops on her pants and tied it tight with a regular knot before hesitantly sitting down on the bed. Beth positioned herself to sit behind Rosie and started running a brush through her knotty hair. "Have you brushed your hair at all?" Beth asked, laughing a little.

"Lori did sometimes... but I don't got a brush," Rosie replied, her face scrunched up in pain as Beth brushed out the knots in her hair.

"You can always borrow mine," Beth offered, her voice light and friendly. "You always got your hair in your face, though. That's why I wanted to braid it."

"Oh," Rosie said, not really know what else to say to that.

"And I just wanted to. I haven't braided anyone else's hair in a long time. It's fun," Beth said.

The two sat quietly for a few minutes as Beth finished getting the knots out of Rosie's hair. Rosie was trying to think of something to say- something that was relevant to Beth. She was scared that people got sick of her talking about dinosaurs all the time.

"Does the baby got a name yet?" Rosie settled on asking. She'd barely been around the baby since she got back. The crying just overwhelmed her, so she tried to stay away when she was already not feeling good.

"Oh, yeah! Carl named her. Judith," Beth said, smiling at the thought of the baby. She had always wanted a baby, so being able to take care of Judith was more of a gift than a responsibility. "You can hold her when I'm done if you want-"

"No thanks," Rosie said quickly. She liked the baby- Judith- but she didn't want her to cry. And, if she were to be honest, part of her was afraid she'd accidentally hurt the baby. She really didn't want to do that.

"You don't like babies?" Beth guessed as she began weaving strands of blonde together.

"I never held one before," Rosie admitted.

"Well, I can help you. If you want," Beth said.

"Maybe... not now, though."

Beth went quiet for a moment before speaking again.  Her main goal of this whole thing was to make Rosie feel a little better, and there was only one thing Beth knew never failed to make the girl happy. "Hey, that lady, Michonne, said you dropped that dinosaur toy. What kind of dinosaur was it?" Beth asked. She smiled, noticing Rosie sitting up a little bit straighter.

"It's a parasaurolophus. They were, like, 15 feet tall and the crest on their head could be six feet long. That's, like, taller than Daryl!" Rosie said before continuing on listing off facts as Beth put her hair into two French braids.

Rosie had never spent much time with Beth before, and she hadn't ever had her hair braided before, but she decided that she liked it.