The first night after their Savior mission Rosita was still on a high. She was tired but restless. There was little sleep the morning they returned to Alexandria. They had to store the weapons, food, and other supplies they took from the outpost. After that she showered and ate. She slept two hours and then stayed up all night at the top of the stairs with weapon in hand waiting to defend herself from retaliation. This life was about waiting for the bad to happen. It's wasn't if the bad would happen; it was a matter of when. It was inevitable.

Now she sat in her bedroom which was dark except for a single flickering candle that cast her slender shadow on the wall. She was dealing with many emotions over the past three days. And her mind was unable to turn off no matter how much her eyes burned from exhaustion. Abraham left her. Talk about bad timing. But she was a pro. She was strong. It didn't prevent her from getting the job done. They killed so many people they couldn't count. So, that sucked but she didn't feel bad about it. Those people were evil. They killed a kid at The Hilltop. They tried to kill three of her own. So there were reasons for their attack. It wasn't preemptive; it was self-defense. It was a reaction to the Saviors' actions. Some people may disagree but it was very much justified. She'd never believe otherwise. But of all the things she grappled with, what made her hands shake, what had her pacing back and forth in her bedroom talking to herself was Carol.

In the last twenty-four hours just the mere sight of that woman made Rosita's blood boil. How dare she defend Morgan? As if the rest of them wanted to kill. Enjoyed it. Reveled in it. It had to be done. She was offended by Morgan's judgment of them. He wasn't special. It was easy to refuse to kill, to stand on some moral high ground when you were surrounded by people who were willing to forsake everything they were and everything they believed in so others could live.

Rosita volunteered at an animal shelter and was awaiting acceptance to college when life as she knew it ended. This wasn't the life she imagined for herself. There were no dreams of being a mercenary. She had enough kills to qualify for serial killer status. That's not how she saw her life. Her dreams saw her traveling and not to Georgia and Virginia. She wanted Rome, Barcelona, and Paris, which might as well be Saturn and Mars now. With each kill she felt herself lose a bit of who she was. And each day she had to live with that. So no, killing wasn't the easy choice in this new world as Carol said.

Carol and Morgan didn't want to take a life? Part of her wanted those two to come across the likes of The Saviors by themselves and see the outcome. She already knew the outcome - at least she knew what Carol would do. Carol would kill. Cold blooded. Carol and Morgan didn't get to stand on a pedestal like they were better than the rest of them. Hell, those two were battling with the demons of their past extremes. She heard about Carol's behavior back at the prison when she killed two sick defenseless people. And Morgan killing everyone in sight. He tried to kill Rick. What good, sane person with good intentions would want to kill Rick? Punch him in the face one good time, sure. But kill Rick?

The rest of them never went that far. The lives they took were always to save their own and the lives of those they loved. She was still human. Alive. Not some breathing version of a walker focused on death and destruction. Sure, Rosita was tired of the killing but she would never get tired of living. She wasn't willing to trade that in for anything.

She turned at the creaking sound that was made when anyone stepped on the next to last step on the staircase. Facing the door, she pointed her gun at her bedroom door and readied herself. There wasn't a sound. She stopped breathing as she waited in anticipation. Then there was a quiet knock on the door.

"Rosita? It's me, Tara."

She released a long breath and lowered her gun. "Hold on." She lay her weapon on the bed and pulled on a pair of sweats over her underwear. She thought of lighting another candle but lately the darkness was when she felt most at ease. She walked over and unlocked the door and opened it just enough so Tara got the message it was okay to enter before she walked back over to her gun.

Rosita sat on the bed and crossed her legs. Tara sat in the chair near the window eyeing her gun.

"What's up?" Rosita asked. Her voice sounded a bit annoyed which wasn't at all how she felt. Her facial expressions and tone often never relayed her true feelings. She wasn't in a bad mood nearly as much as she seemed to portray. Life wasn't a beauty pageant, not before and definitely not now so she didn't feel the need to walk around with a permanent smile on her face for no reason. She thought she was normal but apparently not.

"I couldn't sleep." She shrugged. "And since you never sleep I thought I'd take a chance."

Actually, she had no problems sleeping before. Now that she was alone it was harder. Tara didn't spend much time at home now that she and Denise were an item. After Abraham moved out Rosita felt like she was in this big house with Eugene that didn't seem nearly big enough because...Eugene. It felt like he was always under her foot as her mother said about her and her siblings.

"Why are you awake?" Rosita asked.

"Thinking about that mission. I still have nightmares." Tara held her head down. "It's not something Denise knows anything about. I can't talk to her about it."

"Seems like the only person around here who has a clue is Aaron." Rosita rolled her eyes. "The rest of them..."

"They've changed. They never had to be strong before but when the shit hit the fan they were there."

Tara always had a penchant for defending everyone. She was gullible. Believed everyone was who they said they were. The thing about trusting people until they gave you a reason not to was that now you might not live long enough to realize you made an error in judgment.

"Why can't you sleep tonight? Abraham?"

"No. Carol and Morgan."

"What about them?"

"I came real close to telling everyone what he did. Hiding that guy in here who tried to kill us."

"It's best not to."

"What? That man could have killed Denise." Of all people, she thought Tara would be upset about Morgan's secret prisoner.

"But he didn't. He saved her. He had a clear path and he went back to save her."

"Because he needed her. That's why he saved her."

Tara shook her head. "Not the way Denise explained it. He saved her. She's alive because of him. Everything isn't black and white. Not even now. That's still the same."

Rosita couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was like they were brainwashed. Tara knew what it was like out there. To hear her defend Morgan and the man who, with his friends, killed the Alexandrians...she felt like she was in the twilight zone.

"People have a right to know for their own safety who they are living with. Carol doesn't think anyone should know."

"I agree. She didn't want what happened to her to happen to him."

Rosita stared at her.

"If Rick found out Denise and Carol could have died because of what Morgan did, he would have kicked him out of Alexandria like he did Carol when they were at that prison."

"And?" Rosita cocked her head to one side. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

"No one makes it out there alone. I know that now more than ever." She looked out of the window for a while before turning her attention back to Rosita. "So yeah, he deserves to be here."

"We deserve to have someone who has our backs. Someone who doesn't put us in danger." It didn't take long for her to become agitated and her voice became louder. This was a subject she felt strongly about and Tara would never convince her Morgan's secret shouldn't be told.

"He has our back. He's useful. It takes all kinds to make it now. What's important is that he's a good guy."

"There are no good guys and bad guys. There are just people. There isn't right or wrong, there just is."

"Come on, gorgeous. You don't believe that."

"Of course I do."

"When I rolled up on that prison I was part of a group that was ready to take it from Glenn and Maggie and the rest of them. The man I followed was bad. He killed Maggie's father in front of me. To them, I was a bad guy. And Glenn accepted me because he gave me a chance and I didn't let him down. Good thing there's three strikes instead of one because I would have been out after that attack.

You're good. Eugene, Abraham, Morgan, Carol, Gabriel. Everyone here is good. We may all have our own ways of doing things and some of us may be further along when it comes to figuring out this world we live in but we're all good. So we have to stick together because that's the only way we're going to make it. It shouldn't matter that he doesn't want to kill."

Rosita stood up with her gun and stood before the window. "It's not about being kicked out. Gabriel betrayed us and he wasn't kicked out after everyone found out. No one is getting kicked out because they won't kill. He put people in danger. As long as everyone knows the truth and knows who they are dealing with then that's one thing. But to not know a man would hide killers among us is another thing."

"Maybe."

Rosita's jaw was tense. Maybe? She sighed and shook her head. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

"Are you sleepy yet?" Tara asked.

"Not really."

"Well, what should we talk about?" She smiled.

Rosita couldn't help but laugh. Tara had a way of making things a little less stressful.

They both turned and aimed their weapons as the bedroom door opened wider. Eugene stood in the doorway. "What's going on?"

"Slumber party," Tara said. "Wanna join?"

"Love to." He entered the room. "I never participated in this rite of passage when I was a kid but I imagine they didn't have near the companions I have this evening."

Rosita and Tara both laughed because it was useless being upset with Eugene. He would never change. Rosita wasn't even sure she wanted him to. The most important change, his transition from a coward, was the most important.

"Hey Eugene," Tara said, "what do you think of Morgan?" She tossed a smile Rosita's way.

This was going to be a long night.