Please don't kill me for this. This is a small possible scenario I came up with for what could have happened after 6x16. The way I imagined it for the most part. This is a very important piece of writing to me, so I hope people like it at least a little bit.
He took everything. Their tools. Their supplies. Their protection. But most importantly, he took their hope. The group had never been so broken down in this way before it happened. Not when the wolves attacked or when Dawn took the life of one of their youngest group members. Not even when the governor waged war on the prison and altered the world permanently. This death hit everybody like a ton of bricks smashing into lifeless breathing bodies like silent glass. It didn't quit. It didn't let up like the rain had. Rick had been right when he called himself and his new family members "the walking dead" that night during the thunderstorm. That's what they were now.
No one could believe it even after seeing Glenn's deformed head, practically apart from the remainder of his body, smashed to a pulp into the ground for every one of his family members to see under the full moon. Maggie's wretched screams of terror and agony could be heard across the night. This gut-wrenching sound came only second in horror to the "tch-ck" of Negan's bat repeatedly beating the life out Glenn. After Beth and Hershel, Maggie didn't think she could keep going without Glenn. Now he was gone too-taken away by a tall man with a barbed-wire covered bat. This was the coldest night they had experienced since the beginning of it all. It was too much for everybody.
Negan and his saviors left with a warning, but no one really heard it. The grief was the loudest thing about that night. It was quietly shared between the surviving members as they all expressed their pain almost identically. The ones who had known Glenn the longest were especially torn apart. Maggie had crawled over to Glenn's lifeless body, desperately shaking it as if trying to wake him from a deep sleep. No one dared try to stop her. She sobbed against his dead body, laid up against him for hours.
Rick remained kneeled at the center of the lineup, too shocked to speak or look up at anyone through his tear-filled eyes that seemed to be incessantly pouring with the sadness they all felt. He couldn't bring himself to look up into the eyes of his far-too-hardened-by-the-world son whom he knew he had disappointed again or the eyes of Michonne coming into focus in front of his face as she walked to him on wobbly, unstable legs. Rick wondered what his deceased wife would think of what the world had done to their son if she could see him now. He couldn't look at Maggie's visible pain or Daryl off to the side, watching him closely through blurry eyes despite his busted upper body. He didn't dare look at Sasha either-he knew she couldn't be much better off than him. He also knew that she was still blaming herself for Carol's absence. He remembered that the others didn't know yet. He wondered what it would do to Daryl, especially. He couldn't even chance a look at Abe, Eugene, and Rosita-all of whom he had known for a considerably less amount of time-but he still considered them family too.
Michonne couldn't bring herself to speak at first, pleading silently with her eyes for them both to continue for the sake of every person who still there that they loved. Slowly, Rick lifted his head and fixed his gaze directly at the woman whom he had just realized he loved more than just as a family member or protector mere weeks prior. He remembered how happy they had both been that first night together, as if it was supposed to happen that way all along. At the time, Rick had never felt so content with this new life. It gave him hope. She did. That night was comparable to the relief he felt when he found his baby daughter alive-rescued by Carol and Tyreese. He was gone now too-along with so many others. It made it hard to breathe just thinking it.
But after this cruel night, the puzzle pieces had started to undo themselves again as the group prepared for yet another burial service. To make matters worse, Maggie was no better off than before and Daryl would certainly bleed out to death if they didn't get to a doctor quickly. Even still, Michonne let out a small sigh of relief as she watched Rick watch her back. It was a small accomplishment. A tiny bit of solace shining through the darkness.
Daryl, Michonne and Rosita, having been the closest to Glenn in the lineup, were covered in his wayward blood and guts. Still, no one spoke. Until someone did.
"We have to get to the doctor, Rick," Michonne spoke in a voice so quiet and shaky that Rick barely recognized it as hers. "Maggie and Daryl need the doctor at hilltop."
Michonne. Ever the one to try to be strong even as everything was falling apart. Rick only nodded as he let Michonne help him to his feet. She held onto him tightly, afraid that he might disappear too if she so much as turned around for too long or blinked at the wrong moment it time.
Jesus opened the gates to hilltop immediately after he witnessed a portion of the group coming his way-Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Carl, Maggie and Sasha. The others had headed back to Alexandria with Glenn's body to prepare for burial. Carl had been silent during the entire trek through the forest, intentionally keeping his head parallel with the hard earth. Even Michonne couldn't get through to him this time. They had made it after what had felt like hours on top of hours of forcing themselves to walk.
Jesus, becoming aware of what had happened just by the looks on the faces of his newest companions, nodded his condolences. "I'm so sorry we couldn't help," he spoke quietly, looking every one of the group members directly in the face for the first time.
Rick firmly placed a hand on Jesus' shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, Paul. You have no idea how grateful we've been for your care."
Jesus took in the state of everybody as they entered: Daryl was propped up between Carl and Sasha, fading in and out of consciousness with his skin more blue than white. Maggie was pressed into Rick's side with her face hidden from view against his shoulder. She was deathly pale and appeared to be barely breathing. One hand held onto her lower abdomen for dear life.
Michonne had led the group to safety through her own terrorizing agony. Glenn was her brother too. With her eyes puffy and red, she walked up to stand beside Rick and Jesus.
"Thank you," she said sincerely between her shaky breaths and free flowing tears.
Carl was asleep in one of the guestrooms at hilltop almost immediately, wanting to escape what he refused to name as his current reality. He jerked violently in his sleep for a while in a way that tore into his parents even more. The both of them sat with him for a while before going to individually check on Maggie and Daryl. Michonne went to Maggie while Rick went to Daryl.
Walking into her room, Michonne saw Maggie propped up on fluffy white pillows on top of an ordinary hospital bed. Maggie watched her approach as she sat down beside her on the bed.
"How are you doing, sweetheart?" Michonne asked her gently as she pushed damp hair away from her forehead. She purposely avoided talking about the baby in case it was too late. Michonne knew all too well what it felt like to lose a child and a partner at the same time.
Even after all she had been through, Maggie found it within herself to look up at one of the women who she had grown to trust with her entire life and smile.
"The doctor said the baby's okay," Maggie said with a relieved breath as happy tears sprung from her crystal-like eyes. Michonne smiled back at her.
"My baby's okay, Michonne," Maggie sobbed out deliriously as Michonne quietly shushed her to calm her down. She was clearly exhausted and experiencing an extreme form of post traumatic stress disorder. The deep blue bags under eyes made Michonne's gut twist with concern.
"That's good Maggie. That's perfect."
Michonne hesitated for a second before continuing to speak, "You know.. I know you probably don't want to hear this right now but I lost my baby at the beginning of all this and it broke my heart."
Maggie looked shocked even through her exhaustion.
"I was upset with myself for not being there to protect him. I even blamed myself for a while until.."
"What changed?" Maggie asked hoarsely, prompting her to finish, now completely focused on Michonne as she continued.
"I met my new family. Including you. You and Glenn were the first ones I saw, you know. And after that, I finally began to forgive myself. Maggie, I know you're probably blaming yourself for what happened to Glenn-but I need you to know that it wasn't your fault. Not even a little bit and I want you to never forget that, okay?"
Maggie nodded with a forced vigor, trying and desperately wanting to believe Michonne. "My baby won't have a father," Maggie said lowly, hoping she hadn't been heard.
"But they'll have all of us and we won't ever let anything happen to either of you."
Two rooms over, Rick sat beside Daryl as he began to wake up from his anesthetic-induced sleep. Daryl turned toward him as he noticed his presence.
"Hey," Rick tried his best to give him a hopeful face to look at. "How you feelin'?"
"You don't have to do this, Rick," Daryl spoke dejectedly. He looked the saddest Rick had ever seen him.
"We do, Daryl. You were shot. You almost died."
"Yeah, well I didn't," Daryl snapped harshly through his illness-coated voice. The second thing he said was quieter. "Glenn did. It's my fault too."
"Wh-"
"If I had just killed Dwight in the first place instead a' trying to help the sorry prick, none of this woulda happened. If I hadn't decided to be a dumbass an' go after him myself, Glenn, Michonne an' Rosita wouldn't've been kidnapped."
Rick could see that he was getting worked up, his nerves on edge and his voice shaky as if he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. But he let him talk because he knew he needed to get it off of his chest.
Rick thought a second before speaking up, " Daryl, I need to you to listen to me, okay? The saviors were coming for us whether you went out there or not."
"Bullshit."
"No. It's not and you know it. We were going to be out there eventually either way to get Maggie to a doctor. Even if not that, Ne-they would have come to Alexandria and more people would have died."
Daryl scoffed in disbelief at Rick's constant confidence in him. "Why you tellin' me all this?"
Rick took a quick look at Daryl's bandaged shoulder and then looked back up at his too-pale face. "Because you're my brother, Daryl, and I care about you whether you want to believe it or not."
"We all lost a family member last night and none of us can individually take the blame for it." Rick felt like a hypocrite for saying those words, knowing that he was still entirely blaming himself. But he knew he couldn't show it. He had shoes to fill. An image to upkeep.
Rick could tell he had at least somewhat gotten through to Daryl as he watched him bite his finger uncomfortably. He always did that when someone close to him proved they cared. Time and time again and Daryl still found it hard to believe people could care about him-let alone love him. Years of physical and mental abuse had done that and Rick knew it. But he never brought it up even after over two years of intimately knowing the man laid out before him. He respected him too much to do that-unless Daryl himself brought it up.
Rick tried his best not to let his eyes wander to the deep scars that completely covered Daryl's upper body. Those weren't new. The fact that he hadn't tried to cover them up this time was a relief to Rick. It was a sign of trust between the two of them. The progress he had witnessed Daryl make since they had first met just over two years before was astounding. He was a new and transformed person because of the family he had first found all the way back in Atlanta. Rick found himself proud of the man he considered to be his brother as well as one of his best friends.
Rick reached his left hand out to gently pat Daryl on the chest-away from his gunshot wound. "Get better, Daryl. I'll bring some water for you later."
"Rick-wait," Daryl quipped suddenly as Rick began to walk out of the room to give him some privacy. Rick turned around in his step. "Thank you."
Rick smiled for the first time in over 20 hours. "You're welcome."
He passed Sasha sitting silently on a stool out in the hallway on the second floor, staring out one of the wide, landscape windows as if perched in one of the guard towers ready for an attack at any moment. Sasha had instantly reverted back to the person she was after the prison fell. After Bob. She was most likely thinking about Abe, Rosita and Eugene-hoping they made it back safe with Glenn's barely identifiable body. It had been covered with a thin, dirty sheet-the only thing anybody could find out in the woods. She wondered what the others would return home to.
They nodded to each other subtly as Rick passed her by, both having nothing of substance to say in the moment. Glenn's death had brought back lots of unwanted pain from the past for everyone who witnessed it under the stars in that clearing. No one could forget the last look they saw upon his face as Negan smashed and smashed until the job was done.
A couple minutes later, Rick found Michonne standing in front of the large main door, looking out the window, her hands clearly itching for her now-missing-again sword. She turned around mid-thought as she heard Rick quickly approach from behind.
Before a word could be uttered out of her mouth, Rick crushed her against his body in a soul-bearing hug. "I'm so glad you're here," he said against her temple as warm salty tears once again poured from his ocean-blue eyes. Traumatized with so many different emotions. Fear. Guilt. Dejection. Pain. She recognized all these emotions within herself. At this moment, they were mirror images of each other.
Michonne slightly pulled away, taking his face between her slender hands as her dark brown eyes bore into his light, puffy ones. What she saw on his face was unbearable. Seeing him in so much pain brought a whole new wave of sorrow and anger to her body. Sorrow for their lost friend and anger at the man who had the nerve to take him away from them at a random game of chance in the middle of the night. As if his life hadn't mattered. As if he wasn't important to so many people.
"I was so scared when I went out to the gate and found out you were gone. I didn't know what to do."
"Hey, hey, it's okay," she cooed to him gently as small breathless gasps left his parted lips. "Baby. It's okay. Look at me. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Neither is Carl and soon we're going to go home and see Judith.. Maggie's baby is okay and the doctor was able to save Daryl too. We will come back from this, you understand?"
Michonne's voice was fierce yet gentle as she stroked the sides of his bearded face. Rick leaned his head forward to rest it against her shoulder as he acquiesced. Michonne carefully threaded her fingers through the curls at the base of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her small torso as he silently thanked whoever or whatever was still in the sky for this woman standing before him. For the woman he had loved for a while.
"He saved me, you know. At the beginning of it all," Ricked let out a small incredulous laugh. "I came riding into Atlanta on a horse, all alone, and for some reason he decided to save me from imminent death in a tank surrounded by walkers." Rick paused. "He risked his life before for me before he even knew who I was-whether I was good or bad. That's the type of person he was."
"That's how we'll always remember him."
Michonne listened intently as Rick spilled the truth about where his relationship with Glenn had begun all that time ago. He told her everything. From the camp, to Shane, to the CDC and everything else that happened up until the prison group had first met her. She listened through the whole thing.
Michonne knew why he was telling her all of this information. He needed her to see what he saw so he didn't have to carry it all alone anymore. Rick knew he could trust her to help hold it up with just one look. He knew he could ask this of her. He just knew it.
"We have to be strong," Michonne's voice was muffled by Rick's shirt as she rubbed her hands up and down his tense back soothingly. She came onto the tips of toes to place a soft kiss against his grey-stubbled cheek. "For the kids and for everyone still waiting for us to come home."
"Yeah. That's what we'll do, Michonne." Rick spoke after a while with a newfound confidence. Even if it was weaker than his usual stupor, it was still something. "Because when we get back, we plan, and we kill that motherfucker."
Michonne nodded her agreement with equal determination. "You and I should get some sleep, too. It's going to be a tough couple of weeks."