Rosie was trying her best not to be an asshole to absolutely everyone. She was pissed off, for a lot of different reasons, but mainly because Daryl had left. But she trying really hard not to be. She understood that he had a job, and he would be good at that job, but that didn't mean she couldn't feel mad about it. To make matters worse, she was going to have to start going to school in two days. Deanna didn't want them to start immediately, so they could have some time to adjust first, but they'd supposedly had their time to adjust, and they should have been done adjusting. Rosie wasn't. She had just barely even started adjusting.

When Rosie woke up the morning Daryl was leaving, he had woken her up. Usually he'd let her sleep as long as she could, because he knew she needed it, but he also knew that if he left when she was still asleep, she'd be pissed off. So he woke her up. He sat down on the bed next to her and shook her shoulder. Every time he looked at her face, he thought about how he'd yelled at her, and what he said,  and he wondered if Rosie was thinking about that, too.

As Rosie's eyes blinked open, Daryl brushed her hair out of her face. "Hey. I'm leavin', kid," he said. Rosie's tired, content face dropped into a slight frown. Daryl didn't know whether to be happy or sad about that. He could be happy, because that meant that she didn't hate his guts for what he said, and that she didn't want him to go, but he could be sad, because he was leaving even though she didn't want him to.

"Promise you'll be back soon?" Rosie asked, her voice scratchy and tired, and her eyes squinted.

"Only thing that'll stop me from comin' back here is if I'm dead," Daryl assured her.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Rosie glared at him. "Don't say that," she scolded. The thought of Daryl dying made her stomach hurt. "You're not gonna die."

"I'm not gonna die," Daryl said, chuckling a little. He didn't understand. Why didn't she hate him for what he said? Why didn't she hate him for leaving?

"Ok, good." Ok, good, because I don't know what the hell I'd do if you died.

"Alright. Be good when I'm gone," Daryl said, getting back up off of the bed. He went to the doorway, and Rosie turned in bed, hiding her face in her pillow. "Bye, Rose," he said, stopping in the doorway for a moment.

"Bye, Daryl," Rosie replied, her vice muffled by the pillow. She turned over, now laying on her side and looking at the door. She sighed, chewing her lip. She felt like there was something else she was supposed to say, but she couldn't figure it out, so she just kept quiet. After she gave Daryl a little wave, he went on his way.

•

Another name had been added to the list. Rosie knew something like this would happen. These people didn't understand, so they were going to die. And they were going to bring Rosie and her family down with them. Noah was the first of her family to go since they got to Alexandria. Glenn said it was Nicholas's fault.

Rosie hated Nicholas. She wished it was him who got trapped in that store. She wished he was dead. She didn't realize she was saying these things out loud.

"Don't say things like that, Rosie," Maggie said, a sad look on her face as she sat across the table from Rosie. They were eating left-over casserole. Rosie had never had a casserole, but apparently Carol liked making them.

"It's true," Rosie said, and she stabbed her fork down into her food, even though she really was supposed to be scooping it up to eat it.

"It doesn't matter if it's true. Saying things like that will get you into trouble here," Maggie said, taking a bite of her own left-over casserole. Rosie tucked her hair behind her ear for what felt like the millionth time. Every time she leaned forward, the hair would fall into face again. It was only adding to her frustration. "You know, I think you're going to like school," Maggie said, changing the subject to something more light. Rosie was going to have to go to school the next morning. She was dreading it.

"I didn't like school before, I ain't gonna like it any better now," Rosie said, her mouth full of casserole.

"Don't talk with your mouth full. And don't be so pessimistic. It won't be the same as school was before," Maggie said, raising her eyebrows at Rosie. Rosie just rolled her eyes, because Daryl wasn't there to scold her, which meant she could roll her eyes all she wanted. "I think going to school will be good for you, Ian, and Carl. Maybe you'll make some friends," Maggie said.

"It'll be me, Ian, and Sam Anderson. And I ain't bein' Sam Anderson's friend," Rosie replied. Sam had taken his book back before Rosie could even finish reading it, which made her hate him even more. He didn't even like the book. What did he need it for?

"Maybe there'll be some other kids that you haven't met yet. You haven't exactly tried to go around meeting people," Maggie said, laughing a little. Rosie sighed and picked up her now empty plate before washing it off in the sink.

"Are ya done tryin' to make me like this place yet, or can I go?" Rosie asked when she was done washing her plate. Maggie sighed, fighting the urge to frown. She wanted Rosie to like this place. She wanted her to be happy. Rosie sighed, too, looking away. "Sorry. That's rude. Shouldn't've said it," she murmured. She was trying really hard not to be like her dad, but sometimes she did it without even thinking.

"It's ok, Rosie. I know you're having a hard time getting used to this place. I don't blame you if you're not in the best mood," Maggie said, giving Rosie a hopefully comforting smile.

"Ain't 'bout my mood. I'm rude all the time. I gotta stop bein' like... I gotta stop actin' like an asshole," Rosie said, furrowing her eyebrows. She began kicking her foot into the side of her other foot, avoiding eye contact.

"Being like who?" Maggie asked, a concerned expression on her face.

"Bein' like my daddy. He was an asshole, and I've been actin' just like him," Rosie muttered, feeling guilty. She hated her dad. She used to love him, and then she used to love him and hate him at the same time, but now she just hated him. She didn't even used to know that he was bad. She didn't know that he wasn't a good man. Not until she met actual good men, who taught her what being cared about was actually like. Like Daryl, Rick, Glenn, Abraham, and the other men who had become positive influences in Rosie's life.

"You're not an asshole, Rosie. You're not like your dad. You're your own person. Why are you worrying about something like that, anyway?" Maggie asked, frowning.

Rosie sat back down in her chair, now frowning, too. She pulled her velociraptor out of her pocket, placing it on the table in front of herself and fidgeting with it. "I broke that window 'cause I was mad. My daddy broke stuff when he was mad, too. Plus, Daryl knew my daddy, and he said I was actin' just like him," Rosie explained, keeping her focus on the toy in her hands.

"Daryl said that to you?" Maggie asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Yeah, when he was yellin' at me for breakin' the window and runnin' off. I was really actin' like my daddy that day," Rosie sighed out. Maggie stared at Rosie for a moment, unsure of what to say. She couldn't believe that Daryl said that to her, knowing how her father used to treat her. "G'night," Rosie mumbled out before going up the stairs and leaving Maggie confused and concerned in the kitchen.

After talking to Maggie, Rosie went up to her bedroom. She grabbed her backpack off of the floor, slinging it over her shoulder. Just as she was about to leave the room, she heard a voice outside the window. It sounded like Jessie's husband's voice. Rosie went to the window, looking down outside. She was right, it was Jessie's husband- Pete. He was standing next to Rick, smiling, but Rick wasn't looking back at him. They were talking, but Rosie couldn't quite hear what they were saying. Suddenly, Pete's smile dropped. After another moment, he walked away, and Rick stayed there, unmoving. Weird, Rosie though. But she shrugged it off.

Once she closed the window again, Rosie left the room, shutting the door behind her. She made her way down the hall until she reached Daryl's bedroom. She'd been sleeping in his room ever since the night of Deanna's party, but she hadn't bothered to bring her bag in with her until now.

Along with the dress that Deanna had brought over the other night, she had brought over two pairs of pajamas. One of them had a plain dark blue shirt, and was paired with matching dark blue pajama pants with- believe it or not- dinosaurs on them. The other set had a space pattern, a lot like the pattern on Rosie's old backpack that was left at the prison. Rosie would've worn these pajamas the moment she got them, but she hadn't bothered to look at them until today.

After closing the door to Daryl's bedroom, Rosie switched the light on. It was still weird having electricity, but she appreciated it nonetheless. She went over to the window, pulling the curtains closed. She took the pajamas out of her bag, deciding on wearing the dinosaur ones. For a moment, she was about to put the pajamas on right away, but then she remembered that she could take a shower.

So, she went to the bathroom to take a shower, bringing the pajamas with her. This was the first time she had showered willingly and without being told to do so. She tried not to think about the fact that she was doing exactly what everyone wanted her to do; adjusting.

Adjusting. She didn't want to adjust. She wanted to prove that she didn't need to adjust and she didn't need this place. But she was adjusting anyway.

She was adjusting by washing off in the shower, like everything was normal. She was adjusting by drying herself off, like everything was normal. She was adjusting by putting on those dinosaur pajamas, like everything was normal. She was adjusting by going back to Daryl's room, like everything was normal. She was adjusting by turning the lights off, like everything was normal. She was adjusting by laying down in that bed, like everything was normal.

Nothing was normal.

But they'd all pretend like it was.

Rosie wished Daryl would come back. She missed him even more than she thought she would. His absence made it harder to sleep, and harder to dream of good things, like dinosaurs and bugs, rather than bad things, like the Governor and the Claimers.

So as she laid in bed, curled up into a ball in the middle of the mattress, Rosie squeezed her velociraptor tightly in her hand, and she counted the triceratops on her pajama pants.

The room was dark, but Rosie had a flashlight. After she was done counting the triceratops, she counted the T. rex's. Then the brachiosauruses. Then she laid on her back, pointing the flashlight up at the ceiling. She adjusted it, making the circle of light go from big, to small, then back to big again.

There was a knock on the door, and Rosie sat up quickly. After a few moments, the door creaked open a crack, and Rick peaked into the room. Once he saw Rosie sitting up in bed, he opened the door wider, coming into the room.

"Hi," Rosie said, making sure to point the flashlight at the wall and not at his eyes.

"Hey," Rick said. He have a soft smile and sat down at the end of the bed. "Nice pajamas," he said.

"Thanks," Rosie said, pulling her knees up to her chest. "The pants have 105 triceratops, 103 T. rex's, and 98 brachiosauruses."

Rick laughed a little. "Wow. That's a lot," he said, and Rosie nodded in agreement. "I was just checking in on Carl and Ian, I figured I'd check in on you, too. I hear you've got a big day tomorrow," Rick said, getting to his original point of going in there.

"Yeah," Rosie huffed out, trying to make it clear that she was not excited, and he wasn't going to change her mind. "Sucks."

"Yeah, I didn't like school much when I was your age, either," Rick told her, chuckling a little. He scratched his face a little, where his beard was starting to grow back. Rosie liked it better when he had a beard. He looked wrong without one. "Ian's really excited."

"Ian's always excited about everything," Rosie told Rick, rolling her eyes. Rick chuckled at that, too, and nodded his head in agreement. Rosie eyed his cop uniform. It was weird seeing him wear a uniform like that again. The last time she saw him wearing a cop's shirt was back on that highway, before she got lost. Then, when she woke up when Daryl found her, she was wearing the shirt. She had gotten blood all over the bottom of it, because of her leg, so Rick had never worn it again. "Do you like bein' a cop again?" Rosie asked him.

Rick sort of shrugged, tilting his head to the side a little bit. "It's not the same as how it used to be," he said, rather than answering the question with a simple yes or no.

"They like to pretend it is," Rosie said.

"I know," Rick sighed out. "They're going to have to learn, but we can't just push it onto them all at once, or they won't trust us. It takes time. But they'll learn. They'll have to."

"They don't wanna learn. They wanna pretend like this is normal. It ain't normal, and that's why goin' to school is stupid," Rosie told him. She'd told these things to Daryl, but he didn't seem to listen. He just wanted her to accept it, and be a normal, happy kid. Rosie didn't understand that, though, so she appreciated the fact that Rick was actually listening and agreeing with her, rather than telling her she'd just have to get used to it.

"They're gonna have to learn, if they want to live. Something is gonna happen that'll make them understand. It's bound to. But for now, we just have to wait for it," Rick explained, holding his hands together in his lap. "For now, you can trust that Carol, Daryl, and I have got it covered. It's not anything you need to worry about."

"What do you mean?" Rosie asked, furrowing her eyebrows with confusion. What were they doing?

"We've been keeping an eye on things; making sure that if something does go down, we're safe and we're protected," Rick assured her.

"So... you don't trust this place, either?" Rosie asked him.

"Not fully. Not yet," Rick answered. Rosie felt better knowing that someone else felt the same way as her, especially Rick. Rick was smart, and if he was being careful, she knew they'd more than likely end up ok. Rick was like that. He was a good leader, and he'd do anything to keep his family safe. Rosie knew that- she'd seen it. Sometimes she wondered if she should have thanked him for what he did to Joe and to Dan that night, but she could never work up the courage. "Well, you've been doing good, Rosie," Rick suddenly said, standing up off of the bed.

"Good at what?" Rosie asked, confused.

"Adjusting. You're doing better than I expected. And I'm proud of you for that," Rick explained, walking around to the side of the bed closest to the door.

He was proud of her for adjusting?

Rosie thought back to the day after the Claimers attacked them; to the conversation she had with Rick before going into Terminus.

"You've grown. You've changed, for the better," Rick had told her.

"I guess," Rosie had responded, shrugging her shoulders.

"You have," Rick had said. "I'm proud of you for that. We all are."

Rick seemed to be proud of her for simple things like that- like smiling more often than she used to, or trying to adjust. Rosie figured she'd ought to try smiling a little more. She'd gotten back into that habit of hiding it every time she smiled. For whatever reason, people seemed to prefer it when she didn't hide her smile.

"Goodnight, Rosie. I hope your day at school tomorrow isn't too miserable," Rick said, ruffling Rosie's hair a little.

"G'night," Rosie responded, laying back down on the bed. "Maybe it won't be that miserable. Just a little bit miserable."

After laughing at that, and shaking his head, Rick let out a quiet, "Alright then, Rosie." Then he shut the door and Rosie was left to the darkness of the room again.

Maybe he was right. Maybe school didn't have to be too miserable. Maybe she'd learn something interesting. Maybe whoever her teacher ended up being would know a lot about dinosaurs, or maybe bugs. Or maybe her teacher would have root beer in her fridge. And maybe whatever kids that Rosie hadn't met yet wouldn't be mean or annoying. Maybe they wouldn't pull her hair or call her names. Maybe it would be good.

"And don't be so pessimistic."