Rosie didn't wake up until the next morning. When she did wake up, she panicked. She was still on that god damn roof. And when she tried to stand, she found her wrist hooked to a hand cuff.

She looked at the cuffs, and then next to them. There was her new backpack. It wasn't on her back anymore, though. It was left wide open on the ground.

Next to it, her new coloring book was also left wide open. On the first page, in blue crayon, were the words:

"SORRY KID CAN'T LET YOU RUN AWAY"

It was written in messy, large letters. Rosie wondered why the handwriting was so completely and utterly terrible... until she looked to her left and saw the severed hand on the pavement. She shrieked and scooted herself away, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"No. No, no, no, no, no!" she muttered to herself as she tugged at the handcuffs. It was no use. She wasn't breaking the handcuffs any time soon.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Rosie began to silently curse Merle.

That asshole took the time out of his day, AFTER he cut off his own hand, to pick the lock on the cuffs, JUST to lock ME here?!

AND HE LEFT HIS AMPUTATED HAND WITH ME?!

SO I CAN LOOK AT IT WHILE I DIE?!

That motherfucker.

"Please, please, please, please," she whispered, slamming her one free hand into the cement over and over again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she said to herself. She wasn't sure what she was saying sorry for, or what the point was, but that didn't stop her from saying it.

Tears began to prick at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, Rosie purposefully morphed her sadness into anger. She was stuck.

Stuck and unbelievably frustrated.

The throbbing in the back of her skull made her extremely angry, as a reminder of what had happened. She grew even more angry, though, when she remembered what Merle had told her before she passed out.

Merle killed my dad.

She still wasn't even sure how to feel about her dad's death. Should she have wanted to thank Merle, or kill him? The confusion only added to the frustration.

The thoughts, feelings, memories, and throbbing goddamn pain in Rosie's skull all began to overwhelm her. Her face began to burn and she could feel her muscles shaking. The sight of Merle's right hand in front of her and the sounds of the walkers groaning in the streets below only added to the complete overload of negative emotions.

She patted the holster on her hip for her gun, just to find it gone. Merle had recognized it as her father's gun and opted out of taking it, tossing it in her backpack instead. He didn't want her to be able to reach it before the others came back and found her. At least he hoped they'd come back and find her.

Rosie curled herself up as small as possible, squeezed her eyes shut, covered her ears with her hands, and accepted her death.

It would be a long and painful one. She'd get dehydrated, probably pass out or starve to death, if the walkers didn't end up finding her first, anyway.

This really was the end of it all.

Rosie only lasted four days without her dad.

Pathetic.

She kept her hands pressed up against her ears, blocking out any and all sounds coming from the dead.

So she wasn't able to hear the many footsteps coming up the stairs that she had climbed just the day before.

She didn't hear their quiet confusion when they saw all of the dead walkers, or when they saw that the chain T-Dog left on the door was on the ground, or when they saw Rosie curled up in a ball in Merle's place.

"Merle!" Daryl shouted.

Rosie heard that.

She shot up onto her knees and her eyes widened at the men on the roof in front of her. It was Daryl, T-Dog, Glenn, and the pussy ass cop Merle was talking about!

Glenn, T-Dog, and the cop all looked at the girl, eyes wide, and she stared over at Merle's hand. The men followed her gaze and saw the hand lying on the ground.

She flinched when Daryl started screaming. "No! No!" he screamed, sounding like he might've been crying.

He looked up at the cop and T-Dog, who both looked guilty.

Then Daryl's eyes landed on Rosie. Her hands were covered with fresh-looking blood and she had small smears of it on her arms and shirt. It was Merle's blood. It must have gotten on her when Merle locked her to the pipe.

Daryl stomped over to Rosie, unbelievably angry. "The hell are you doin' here?!" he shouted.

Rosie cowered away from him. She'd never seen Daryl this angry before.

"The group's been goin' on an' on 'bout you! Had me searchin' the woods for yer ass all fuckin' day! Jesus Christ!"

"This is Rosie?" the cop asked in a much calmer voice.

"Yeah," T-Dog said in a confused tone. "What the hell happened? Why are you here? Where's Merle?"

Rosie didn't answer.

As Daryl stared between Rosie and Merle's severed hand, his breathing got quick and heavy, and soon enough, he raised his crossbow at T-Dog, who backed away quickly. His finger was on the trigger, ready to shoot. Rosie watched, somehow making herself even smaller, as the cop cocked his gun and aimed it at Daryl's head, making him freeze in place.

"I won't hesitate," the cop said. "I don't care if every walker in the city hears it." His voice was low and threatening.

Rosie's heart throbbed in her ribcage as she watched Daryl scrunch his face up with sadness before lowering his crossbow. She felt so guilty, remembering the hairpin she'd used to get onto the roof in the first place. Maybe if she was smarter, she could've helped Merle pick the lock. Then Merle would be safe. He wouldn't be bleeding out, and maybe he could have even gone back to camp with Daryl.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The cop lowered his weapon, too. Daryl sighed and looked down at the hand again. He turned to T-Dog. "You got a do-rag or somethin'?" he asked, much more calm than before. T-Dog handed him a blue bandana. Daryl picked up the hand by the pinky and dropped it onto the bandana before wrapping it up, muttering things to himself as he did it. He stood up and put the hand in Glenn's backpack, and Glenn didn't look too happy about it.

Daryl turned away and locked eyes with Rosie again. Neither of them said anything. Daryl glared at her, angry, but Rosie just looked sad and afraid.

She scooted backwards as the cop stepped closer to her. "What happened here, Rosie?" the cop asked her.

"You're the pussy ass cop that locked Merle up here," Rosie replied, furrowing her eyebrows at the man. The cop raised his eyebrows, a little shocked, while T-Dog and Glenn turned away to snicker.

"I'm Rick Grimes," Rick said, crouching down in front of Rosie. He gave a friendly smile, but Rosie just glared at him. "You know my son, Carl. I hear you punched him, actually."

The memory of punching Carl reminded Rosie of her dad. So she decided to ignore Rick Grimes completely. She looked past him at Glenn and T-Dog, eyeing the tool in T-Dog's hand. "Ya gonna let me outta here?" she asked him, slightly shaking her handcuffed hand to draw attention to it.

Nodding, T-Dog stepped closer and began working at the handcuffs. "Yeah. Sorry, kid," he said.

"Why are you even here?" Glenn asked, sounding completely and utterly confused.

Rosie didn't say anything. That is, until Rick Grimes started going through her new backpack. "Hey! Stop! That ain't yours! Daddy said ya gotta have a warrant!" she shouted, trying and failing to kick the cop. Her legs weren't long enough to reach him.

Rick stood up, holding Rosie's new coloring book in his hands. "Apparently she was trying to run away," he said, holding the book open for everyone to read the note Merle had left in his shitty, non-dominant hand handwriting.

When T-Dog was finally able to break the cuffs, Rosie jumped to her feet, quickly snatching the notebook out of Rick Grimes' hands. She gave him a mean glare as she crouched down, packing all of her new belongings into her backpack. When she stood back up, swinging her backpack onto her shoulders, she started walking away, back towards the stairwell.

The girl didn't even make it two feet away before Rick Grimes grabbed onto her arm, halting her immediately. "You need to tell us what went on here. Why were you up here?"

"I don't gotta tell you nothin'! You're the pussy ass cop that locked 'im here! That's what he said!" Rosie shouted. Glenn and T-Dog had to fight hard to suppress their laughter each time Rosie called him the pussy ass cop.

"You see where he went when he left?" Daryl asked, irritation clear in his voice. If Rosie was going to be answering any questions, it was going to be Daryl's questions. He was the only person out of this group that she moderately respected. Plus, Merle was his brother. He had a right to know.

"I don't know. He pushed me an' I hit my head. And then I woke up and he was gone," Rosie replied, raising her voice with every word, "And I was handcuffed next to his bloody hand!" She gestured to the puddle of blood she'd been sitting next to.

"He knocked you out?" Daryl asked, confused. Merle was oh-so-concerned about David hurting her, that he killed him, but he had no problem with knocking the girl out himself?

"Well, I was hittin' him..." Rosie murmured, looking down at her shoes.

"Why?" Rick Grimes asked.

"I a'ready told you, I ain't tellin' you nothin', Rick Grimes!" Rosie shouted again. "You left Merle for dead!"

"Alright, calm down," Rick said, looking exhausted. "I'm sorry I handcuffed your friend, but if you want us to find him, you need to tell us everything that happened."

Crossing her arms defiantly, Rosie looked away from Rick. Glenn and T-Dog were staring at her expectantly. So she looked at Daryl. Merle was his brother. If Daryl wanted her to talk, then she'd talk, but she wasn't going to do it just because Rick Grimes the Pussy Ass Cop said so.

Catching Rosie's questioning look, Daryl nodded. "Go on," he said.

After sighing dramatically, Rosie finally gave in. "I was runnin' away. I didn't wanna be there no more.  I was hidin' in the van when you guys went on the run. And then I saw you guys leavin' and I heard Merle screamin', so I found him. He told me to pick up the saw, so I did. But then he said he was gonna cut off his hand, an' I thought that was stupid, so I didn't give it to 'im. But then he told me somethin'... an' it made me mad, so I started hittin' him, an' I forgot about the saw. And he pushed me, and I fell, an' I woke up handcuffed.".

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Rosie," Rick said, sounding genuine. Rosie rolled her eyes and started walking away again. She still had plans of running away.

Daryl marched right up to her and grabbed onto the handle of her backpack. "Where the hell you ya think yer goin'?" he asked, sounding irritated.

"Somewhere else!" Rosie growled out, frustrated. She just wanted to be on her own. She squirmed and tried to get away with her backpack, but his grip was strong.

"Merle's right, ya ain't runnin' away. Dumbass," he muttered, pushing her away from the door. "You're comin' with us. Goin' back to camp, 'fore Deputy Dipshit takes off my head," he said angrily as he dragged her along with him, following the blood stains.

"Deputy Dipshit can mind his own business! Jus' lemme go! Ya don't gotta tell 'im ya saw me!" Rosie argued, still struggling against Daryl's hold.

"He's jus' gonna keep sendin' me out there lookin' for ya."

"You don't gotta listen to 'im!" she growled, "Deputy Dipshit's a dumbass!"

"You're a dumbass if ya think yer gonna survive more than a day alone," Daryl replied, annoyed. "Now shut yer mouth 'fore ya attract every damn walker in this city."

Rosie growled in frustration, but stopped fighting and went along with Daryl.

"Thank you for cooperating," Rick said, still trying to get Rosie to stop hating him.

Rosie stopped for a moment stared up at him, doing her best death glare. "Pussy ass cop," she muttered, turning around and following Daryl.