Authors' Notes: Hey there, it's your friendly neighborhood Mewchonne and Tyreese (BleedTheFreak23) coming at you with another 100% comic based fanfiction. Please note, show fans, that there is going to be a lot in here that does not follow show canon at all. This is entirely comic-based, as are most of our collaborative works, so please understand that the characters and storylines are very different. This story takes place after the current ongoing war. The focus is the aftermath of this war and how the characters are coping.
For two years, things had been relatively peaceful in the collection of communities. Society had truly begun to rebuild, and the Hilltop was the heart and soul of that, with the acres of farmland and skilled workers making all types of supplies that the other communities needed. When the hoard of roamers trampled through their communities, the large landscape that was Hilltop had been hit the hardest. The majority of the population was unskilled in terms of war, so there were countless casualties. Remains of the dead had tainted many of the crops, and their mindless rampage had destroyed buildings and infrastructure. Restoring and cleaning the massive plots of land would be a long-term task. The former leader of the Hilltop, Maggie Greene, was determined to rebuild her empire, and for the past three weeks since the last of the Whisperers were taken down, that was almost all she was doing.
Maggie Greene herself nearly didn't make it out alive. Every community suffered losses, but the Hilltop was hit the hardest. Many of it's people, including one "Jesus" Paul Monroe, died on the battlefield. Back at the Hilltop, nearly everyone who stayed back didn't make it out. Dante was the sole reason Maggie and her son had even made it out alive. Them, along with Carl, his girlfriend and daughter of the slain Whisperer leader Alpha, Lydia had also made it out. Aaron, Marco, Sophia, and the doctor Harlan were the only other survivors to make it out alive. Earl Sutton, Brianna and her son, Louie, Eduardo, and everyone else that stayed behind… all dead.
Andrea, who had lost her long-term lover and the most notorious leader of the communities, was mourning deeply. Maggie had been her best friend, and she understood her absence, but longed for her comfort. Losing Rick was something she had never in a million years imagined to be possible. We don't die. They had agreed, and he'd broken that promise. Part of her was angry, but part of her knew that their promise had been empty all along. There was no doubt in her mind that she'd love him forever, though. That was one thing that would never die.
Before the war even began, Michonne was in an emotional crisis. After running away from the man she loved and living out at Oceanside for two years, abandoning all of her dearest friends on land, she felt the effects of her absence hard at the beginning of the war. Her ex-lover, King Ezekiel, was murdered by the leader of the Whisperers. Alpha had died soon after, and Michonne still resented Negan for taking this kill from her. Sometimes, her anger got the best of her, and in this case she still never worked through all the rage that had filled her, even though a good deal of that rage was directed at herself.
How could she leave Ezekiel like that, when she could have had two more years with him? It wasn't that she didn't love him... It was just the opposite. She was afraid of how much she loved him, after loving and losing time and time again. The pain she went through with Tyreese, with Morgan...with Mike. She didn't want it again, and she knew how she felt for Ezekiel would lead to yet another bout of suffering. The reason she left was something few people knew. She didn't just leave Ezekiel to live on a boat with Pete-who everyone knew was her type, and everyone talked. In fact, she and Pete hadn't dated at all. Pete found her in the woods with a gun to her head, and saved her life. Too ashamed to return to her community, too shaken to explain herself, took his offer to join him on the ship.
But when times got tough, and the war began, Michonne stayed with her family on land. Rick Grimes had been her best friend, as cheesy as she thought the term was. Never again would she deny that fact. At his funeral, she had broken down into tears in front of everyone, and she had to leave, still not an expert at allowing her emotions to show without extreme regret. She had been there for Andrea and Carl, having taken near-permanent residence on their couch or in the empty space in Andrea's bed.
"I miss Maggie," Andrea said nearly every day, and Michonne would sigh, wishing things were easier for all of them.
"I know… she's doing important things out there, though, and she will be back, I promise you that." She caught herself, realizing that her wording was probably too finite. Nothing was promised in this time. "Sorry. I don't promise. I'm tired of broken promises. I know she will though, I know it. We need Hilltop back. What she's doing...it's…"
"I know that, Michonne, I know. I just miss her." Andrea sighed, curling up and hugging her pillow. "Now that all is said and done, all I want is for things to be normal again. And I know that's not fucking practical...I know it isn't."
"I know. It fucking sucks, there's really no other way to put it." She closed her eyes, trying to hold back her tears. "Hey, I'm gonna check on Carl and Lydia." They were staying in the other bedroom right now, so she went to check on them.
Andrea sighed and got up from the bed. She looked around the room that she and Rick shared for over two years. On the floor, Rick's police jacket lay by the closet, still untouched from the last time he got changed. She walked over towards it and picked it up, hugging it tightly for a moment before putting it on. It was about fall now, four years since the dead began to walk. Four years since she first met the one Rick Grimes, who she not only grew to call a friend, but also a lover. But now, he was gone. Dead like almost everyone else she's known since that time. Her sister Amy, Dale, so many other friends and people she had survived with. Now, she felt alone. Sure, she had friends in Maggie, Michonne, and others… but now she was alone, left to help finish raising Rick's son Carl, one of only two people from the original camp she, along with Amy and Dale, arrived at nearly four years ago.
She walked out of her bedroom slowly, her feet felt heavy as she dragged them out of the room. She walked outside, knowing Michonne was sure to be coming back any second from Carl and Lydia's room. But she didn't care… she had something she needed to do.
Outside, the air was cool and crisp. The leaves had begun to change colors on the trees that had surrounded the safe zone. She remembers the first time she stepped through that gate, when they first arrived here. Much like the Atlanta camp, many of those people she first arrived with have since died. She could picture how beautiful and hopeful the place was on the first day. The children running around, as she and her group looked around in wonder.
She sighed and continued on, walking through the silent and calm Alexandria safe zone. The sun had begun to set, though there was plenty of daylight left. Almost no one wandered the streets right now, something which was a rare sight, especially on such a nice day like this. A brief gust of wind blew her hair a bit, the air cool on her head.
She touched her head, and frowned a little. She remembered the hat she wore when she first arrived here as well. The old, stained, musty fishermans hat that her lover Dale worn almost all the time. She hated that damn hat, but she had grown to love it. And, after Dale had passed, she hung on to it… the only thing she had to remember him by. She had shoved it away in a drawer after she had fell for Rick… and now she was doing it again with his jacket. The old, stained, and torn up jacket that has now survived three wars and countless other battles. She stopped in her tracks and buried her face in the inside of the jacket, wiping away her tears and also smelling it at the same time. It still smelled like him… something she appreciated.
She arrived at the makeshift graveyard that had existed since this place had existed. She looked around at the graves, many names unfamiliar… and at the same time… all too familiar. The graves of Jessie and her son Ron, Rosita and Abraham, many of the people of the community who helped make this place… Bruce, Tobin, Nicholas, Douglas. The Hilltop wasn't the only community to lose people in the war. The grave of Gabriel sat towards the edge of all the graves, whose body was still missing. Annie, Vincent, Darius, Kelly, Connie, even Mikey's mother Paula had joined the graveyard since the last time they had to add graves… after they found the heads on the pikes that had taken five of their town from them.
Her eyes stopped on a grave sat to the side. It wasn't any different than any of the other crosses there… It wasn't grand, or made of any special material… but it was one that attracted Andrea to it. She kneeled down in front of it, her hand touching the named carved into the wood… a name that she, or anyone, had ever thought they'd see there. The name of the man who lead that group through so much… from Atlanta to the farm, to the prison and finally here. The man that lead them through thick and then, and through three wars. The man Andrea had grew to not only call a friend, but also her love. She began to cry, bowing her head as her tears hit the ground in front of the cross, her hand gripping the wood tightly. Her thumb laid across the carved in name of the one, Rick Grimes.