Chapter 9: Entropy From Order
~Jesus~
I take a guess on the home that houses Rick, Daryl, and Clary, hoping that I'm right. I start upstairs, opening the first door on the right. Inside, I see Clary lying on a bed, asleep, her boyfriend's arm around her waist. Well, I'm in the right house. I quietly close the door, trying not to wake them, and pick another door, down the hall on the left. When I walk in, I find Rick lying on a bed with a woman, a sheet covering them. "Rick," I hiss. "Rick." The two scramble up, grabbing their weapons and aiming them at me, all three of us trying to ignore the fact that they're completely naked. "We need to talk."
"What the hell?" the woman questions, her eyes darting to Rick before back at me.
"It's a long story, Michonne," Rick answers. "Think you can give us a minute to get dressed?"
I turn and walk out, closing the door behind me as I step out into the hall. I walk back over to the stairs, where I noticed a painting earlier. I take it off the wall, sitting down on the steps as I study it. Three of the four queens—hearts, spades, and clubs. So, where's the diamond? I pause, looking up when I hear two guns being cocked beside me. Out of the two, I notice Clary there first. There she is. Her boyfriend, who shares a certain resemblance with Rick, stands right beside her. The boy demands, "What the hell are you doing in our house?"
"I'm, uh, sitting on the steps, looking at this painting," I answer as Clary shifts her gun, raising it around her shield to cover both herself and her boyfriend. I look them over as I turn on the steps to face them. The kid has bandages over his eye, and like Clary, his hair is messed up from sleep, and they're both half dressed. I notice how he stands on her left, trusting Clary to watch his blind side, his right. "And I'm waiting for your mom and dad to get dressed."
"Carl," Clary says, lowering her gun slightly. "This is the guy I told you 'bout. I guess I'll be the first to say it, Jesus. Welcome to Alexandria."
I tear my gaze away from her as Rick and Michonne rush out from their bedroom, Michonne dressed and Rick halfway there, buttoning his jeans. "Carl," he says, seeing his son. "Hey. Umm."
"Fuckin' knew it," Clary mutters, causing Carl to scoff. I turn back as four others climb the stairs, Daryl in the lead, guns raised. Clary steps down around me, raising her hands to keep Daryl and Rick back on either side. "Stand down," she orders, using her shield to separate Daryl and I. "He's weaponless."
"He kicked your ass," Daryl replies, cocking his gun. "Without even havin' a weapon."
"Daryl!" Clary snaps, turning to face her brother. "I said, stand down. Let go of your damn grudge match." Daryl lowers his gun as Clary puts herself between us, kneeling on the steps in front of me. When I notice that her shirt is barely buttoned, I look away, refusing to look anywhere below her shoulders. "Well, aren't you a gentleman?" Clary chuckles slightly, buttoning the shirt up a few more until I will look at her. I wince as she brushes my hair away from the spot where the truck door hit, and she drops her hand. "How's your head?"
I smile softly at her concern. "I'm alright, Miss."
"Good," she replies. "Now, what the hell are you doing in our house?"
"He said he wanted to talk," Rick answers.
"Alright," Clary says, looking down at me. "Let's talk."
~Clary~
Jesus sits at one end of the table, while the rest of us either sit or stand at the other, watching him. I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. "How'd you get out?" I question. "Y'know, aside from you bein' a damn ninja."
"One guard can't cover two exits or third floor windows," he answers.
Before he can say anything else, I turn to Rick. "'One guard.' You had one guard?"
"He was passed out, tied up," Rick retorts, trying to defend himself.
"Knots untie and locks get picked," Jesus adds. "Entropy comes from order, right?"
"Right," Daryl says, glaring down at him.
"I checked out your arsenal," Jesus continues, and my hand drifts to my gun resting on the table at that. He notices, and adds, "No, no. I didn't take anything. I just wanted to see what you had. I haven't seen anything like that in a long time. You're well equipped, but your provisions are low. Very low for the amount of people you have. Fifty-four?"
"More than that," Maggie replies from her spot beside Glenn.
"I appreciate the cookie," Jesus tells us. "My compliments to the chef."
"She ain't here," Daryl growls.
Jesus turns to him, saying, "Look, we got off to a bad start. But we're on the same side. The living side. You, Clary, and Rick had every reason to leave me out there, but you didn't. I'm from a place a lot like this one. Part of my job is searching out other settlements to trade with. I took your truck because my community needs things, and you three looked like trouble. I was wrong." Jesus glances across the table at me. "Well, maybe not about you, Miss."
"Thanks," I reply. "But I'm more of a chaotic neutral. I like to keep my options open, ya know? Entropy from order, like you said."
Jesus chuckles. "You're good people. And this is a good place. I think our communities might be in a position to help each other."
"Do you have food?" Glenn questions, knowing that's what we're in need of the most.
"We've started to raise livestock. We scavenge, we grow. Everything from tomatoes to sorghum."
"Tell us why we should believe you," Rick demands.
"I'll show you," Jesus answers. "If we take a car, I can take you back home in a day, and you can all see for yourselves who we are and what we have to offer."
"Wait," Maggie says. "You're looking for more settlements." Jesus nods once. "You mean you're already trading with other groups?"
Jesus leans back in his chair, grinning now. "Your world's about to get a whole lot bigger."
"Rick?" I question, looking over to him. "What do we do?"
"Well, it's your call," Rick says, gesturing towards me with a wave of his hand. "You were the one that brought him back. I didn't want to, but you proved me wrong. I trust your judgement."
"Thought I'd never hear that phrase again," I mutter, then glance over at Carl as he rests his hand on my knee.
"You'll make the right choice," he whispers.
I'm silent, knowing the future of this community rests on my shoulders yet again. I hesitate, then look up at Jesus. "We go."
"You made the right choice," Carl says, glancing up at me as we screw the lids shut on the gas cans. "You always do."
"Do I?" I question. "I mean, do I really? It's my call that's gotten people killed. It's my call that made us kill people. Is it the right choice?"
"Everything happens for a reason, Clary," he replies. "This place will be real."
I stop what I'm doing, looking up at him. "You think I'm doubtin' him."
"When don't you? You doubted this place, didn't you?"
"But I doubted Terminus, and look how that turned out. We just got lucky with Alexandria. I trust Jesus, I do, but his community, I don't know, man. Nothin' comes without a cost."
"This will work, Clary. I'm telling you. I can feel it."
"You feel it, huh?" I question, to which he nods. "Alright. You said this place would work and it did. I trust you with everything. You say Jesus' camp will work, then it'll work." Carl smiles softly, pulling me into a one armed hug. "I still don't want you to come with us."
Carl pulls back at that, looking down at me. "You just said it'll work."
"I know. I want to believe it will, but we don't know what we're walkin' into. Who we're gonna face. And I don't want you there if it goes to shit."
"It's 'cause of my eye, ain't it?" Carl questions. "Go ahead, Dixon. Say it."
"Yeah, okay, that's what it is, Carl! You spent two weeks at Denise's. You're still healin', you're still gettin' used to it."
"I am used to it, Clary," Carl says, rather calmly. "You're not."
"I thought you were gonna die, Carl. Yeah, there's been times I was scared for you, but never like that. That was the second time in two years I've watched you take a bullet, and I just thought, 'This time, we won't get lucky. This time, I'm gonna lose him.' And that scares the hell outta me. I don't want you comin' 'cause we don't know what we're facin'. You say you can handle it, and I wanna believe you, but I can't. Even if I try, I can't."
"Say it, Clary. You think this makes me weak. Go ahead. You don't gotta sugarcoat it. You never do, anyway."
"Hell, Carl, I don't know," I snap, throwing my hands up in the air to emphasize my point. "You're strong, but what happened, you're still not back. Not back to way you were before."
"I'm not the same person, Clary. I've changed. We all have."
"No, Carl, that's not what I meant," I say, shaking my head. "I meant your strength. It's not back yet, not fully. You're not at a hundred percent, and that's why I don't want you goin' with us. I want to think it'll work, but I'm bein' realistic. I trust Jesus, I do, but not everyone in his group is like him. We're not all the same in ours. Some would as soon as kill a stranger as look at 'em, and others wanna talk. So I'm gettin' ready to face the ones like me. And I don't want you there for that. I know you're more than capable to fight right beside me, but right now, you ain't. So stay, please."
"Okay," Carl says after a moment. "Alright. I'll stay. But you gotta promise me you'll come back. In one piece. Alive."
I smile softly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "You got it, Grimes."
He looks at something over my shoulder, then asks, "You sure?"
"No," Rick answers, and I turn as he approaches, Judith in his arms. "But if he's telling the truth, this could be the start of everything." He glances up at the porch as Jesus walks down the stairs, accompanied by Michonne, before turning back to us. "Look, I was gonna tell you about me and Michonne, but it just happened. It just happened. Last night. This is… this is different."
"It's cool," Carl says, grinning.
"One down, one to go," I say, glancing over at Carl. "And it looks like you have my next three dishwashing shifts."
Carl groans at that, and Rick looks at the two of us. "Come on, really?" he sighs.
"Hey, it happened to us," I say with a shrug.
"For a year," Carl adds. "It's our turn to make the bets."
Rick sighs. "Alright, fair enough. Well, get your stuff. Gabriel can take care of Judith while we're gone."
"No, I'm not coming," Carl objects. "Someone's gotta stay back, keep this place safe." He chuckles nervously. "A kid with a messed up face probably wouldn't make the best first impression anyway."
Rick hands Judith over to him, and I kiss Carl's cheek before following Rick. "Let's chew up some asphalt!" Abraham calls.
He holds the door open as we climb in, and Daryl closes it as he joins us inside. I look around at the group inside as we drive out of our safe haven, towards one that might not be what we think it is. Michonne rides up front with Rick, Jesus in the seat behind her. Glenn sits at the couch against the window, his hand on his wife's stomach as she sleeps, Maggie's head against his shoulder. I sit with Daryl at the table, Abraham opposite of us. My brother keeps his eyes on Jesus, still not trusting him one bit, and I elbow him in the side. He looks over at me, and I drop my voice to keep the conversation between us as Abraham asks Glenn something I don't catch that involves Bisquick and pancakes. "Just trust him, will you?" I question.
Daryl huffs. "Like hell. Kicked our asses, stole our shit."
"We got it back."
"Bastard ain't gettin' nothin'."
"Daryl," I snap. "Do you trust me?"
He looks over, confused that I'm even asking that question. "Of course."
"Do you trust my calls?"
"You make the right ones. Yes."
"Do you trust my judgement?"
"I trusted Glenn since I found out he took care of you. Of course I do."
"Then trust Jesus. That's all I'm askin'. If you ain't gonna trust him for you, then do it for me. He saved my life, and I trust him. He's one of us."
I look up as Jesus climbs around Abraham into the seat across from us. "I heard my name," he explains.
Daryl snorts. "Probably heard a lotta other shit, too."
"Jesus Christ, Daryl," I sigh. "What the hell did I just say? You know I wouldn't say that unless I knew for sure."
Daryl sighs, but before he can say anything, the brakes squeal as Rick slows to a stop. "Rick?" Daryl questions. "What's goin' on?"
"We got a crash ahead," Rick answers, and Jesus climbs back around Abraham to look up at it. "Looks like it just happened."
"It's one of ours," Jesus breathes, starting for the door before Rick has even fully stopped. Rick sighs, and I jump over Daryl, following Jesus out of the RV. "They're not here," he says, looking inside the truck, ignoring the snarling walkers pinned underneath it. "Where are they?"
I look over as Rick appears beside me, his gun aimed at Jesus as he says, "If this is a trick, it won't end well for you."
"My people are in trouble," Jesus says, his eyes glancing from Rick to I. "They don't—we don't have a lot of fighters. I know how it looks, but I'll play it out. Can I borrow a gun?"
"No," Daryl snaps, sending a glare my way as I start to hand mine over. "Cheyenne. Look around, dumbass. We got tracks right here."
"Don't call me dumbass, dumbass," I reply, following the tracks to a building a few hundred feet away. Rick pounds on the door, his gun raised. Jesus says, "They gotta be in there."
Rick lowers his gun, turning to look at him as Abraham inquires, "We moving in or what?"
"How do we know this ain't firecrackers in a trash can?" Daryl questions.
"You don't," Jesus replies shortly.
"We'll get your people," Rick tells him. "You're staying here with at least one of us."
Jesus turns to me, and I say, "Hey, it's the deal. I'll stay."
"Maggie, too," Glenn says after a quick word with his wife.
"Maggie?" Rick questions, looking over at her.
"Yeah," she says. "Y'all go. Just be careful."
"We're gonna be careful," Rick says, and I step back as he handcuffs Jesus's hands behind his back.
"Just hurry," Jesus pleads.
Rick turns to look at Maggie and I. "You hear me whistle, shoot him."
"I will," Maggie confirms.
Rick's gaze shifts to me. "You got that."
"Yes, sir," I say, keeping one hand on my gun. Daryl holds the door open for the others as they venture in, closing it behind him and Glenn, the last two in. They look at Maggie and I through the glass before disappearing inside. Jesus turns to look at me as I step towards him, and Maggie shifts on her feet, raising her gun slightly. "Easy, Mag," I say, holding out a hand, silently telling her to lower it. "It's alright. Give us a minute, alright?"
Maggie lowers her gun, taking a few steps back, and I look up at Jesus. "I, uh, I never got to thank you," I start, running a hand through my hair as I look up at him. "You've saved my life. Twice."
"It's not a problem," he replies. "Like I said, more of them than us. We've gotta stick together."
"That's the thing, ain't it?" I say. "The livin' stickin' together? Easier said than done. People out there, they're worse than the dead. Walkers, they got one purpose, and that's to eat us. The enemy, though, they'll turn around and stab you in the back—" I snap my fingers "—just like that."
"That's what it's become, isn't it?" Jesus questions, looking down at me. "When I first met you three, I didn't know what to think. I thought you would turn out to be thieves, murderers, people that I can't trust. I think I may have been wrong about that."
"Daryl doesn't trust you, Jesus," I tell him. "Even after you savin' my ass. He'll trust anyone that does, 'cause they were lookin' out for his little sister. Me, on the other hand, it takes more than just savin' my ass to get me to trust someone. But you, I trust you. You're a good man, and there ain't a whole lotta people left like that no more."
Jesus smiles softly at the compliment. "I've got a question for you."
"Alright, fire away."
"So for some reason, you come off as the person that would have some tattoos. At least one, even though you're sixteen. Am I right or wrong?"
I grin. "You're right. I'm gonna make you guess where."
Jesus groans, while Maggie chuckles a bit at the two of us. "Oh, are you? Okay, so it's not on your arms. You don't strike me as someone that'd have a tramp stamp, but I'm gonna guess you do have something on your back."
I nod slowly, then stop. "Eh, it kind of is, but not entirely."
"So it's more like on your hip?" I nod once. "Can I see it?"
"It says 'aequitas,'" I tell him as turn. I lift the side of my shirt up, then quickly pull it back down when I realize how far I pulled it up. "Shit. Too far."
"Hey, wait," Jesus says softly. "Clary, what was that? And I don't mean your tattoo?"
I don't answer.
"Clary? You okay?"
"I'll show you my back some other time," I tell him. "Just, not here."
"You really trust him, don't you?" Maggie questions. "I mean, if you're willing to show him."
Jesus starts, "They were... You were…"
"Yeah," I answer, cutting him off. "I usually don't like talkin' 'bout it, but I will. Glenn, even after all of this, he still thinks I'm made of glass. Like I'll shatter if he brings it up, or if he just hits my arm."
"Glenn thinks you'll hate him if he does," Maggie says. "I lost track of how many times I've had to tell him that nothing could make you hate him."
Jesus falls silent, his eyes cast down. He shifts on his feet, glancing up at me. "Sorry I hit you," he mutters.
"Don't be. You had to defend yourself didn't you?" I questions, and it's not long after that our people emerge, Abraham helping one of the four along. "Rick," I say, seeing him exit the building.
He tosses me the keys, and I unlock Jesus's handcuffs. He rubs his wrists as I hand them back to Rick, then take Jesus's arm, pulling him with me as we head towards the RV. "Too tight?" I question.
"No, you're fine," Jesus replies, glancing down at me.
I release his arm. "Not me. The handcuffs, your wrists."
"Eh, it'll be fine."
"Let me see," I request, holding out my hand, palm up. He places his hand in mine, allowing me to see the red marks around his wrists. "Ouch. Those'll be sore for a little while. Trust me, I know. I was arrested once."
"Once, my ass," Daryl says as he passes us, sending a glare at Jesus.
"Hey, they never convicted me of anythin'," I call after him. I take Jesus's hand as we jog to catch up with the others. "Let's get your people home."
I elbow Jesus in the side to get his attention, noticing the solemn expression on his face. "Hey, cheer up," I tell him. "All your people are here. They all made it."
Jesus smiles softly at that thought, and I get up, making my way to the back of the RV where Glenn and Maggie speak to one man in the group, Harlan. "That's my husband, Glenn," Maggie's telling him, then sees me approach. "And that's Clary Dixon. As you can tell by the shield, she thinks she's Captain America."
"Oh, ha ha, Mag," I say with a humorless laugh. "You think you're so funny."
Harlan chuckles, looking up at Glenn. "We're bringing back medication, so you may have saved more people than just us back there, Glenn."
"That's what he does," I say, ducking under his arm. "He saves people, even ones he doesn't know. Takes care of others 'fore himself."
"Shut up, Clary," Glenn mutters, being the modest little shit he is. "Harlan, you're a doctor?" He nods once. "You have any prenatal vitamins in there?"
"I assume they're for you," Harlan says, grinning slightly as he looks over at the blushing Maggie. "Well, uh, I was an obstetrician before, and I most definitely owe you. So, I'd say you two just hit the jackpot."
I find myself grinning with the two, even though I'm still nervous about it all. Even with the doctors, the houses, the resources, I'm still beyond scared that Maggie's going to die during childbirth like Lori. I don't know what that would do the group, to Carl, let alone to Glenn. Behind me, Glenn leans down, whispering to me, "So, how's it feel knowing you're going to be an aunt, Clary?"
"Pretty damn good, Short Round," I answer, grinning. My way of hiding my unease. "Pretty damn good."
I grab for something to hold onto, which happens to be Glenn, when the RV suddenly halts, both of us trying not to fall over. "Rick?" I call up, ducking back under Glenn's arm as I start for the front of the RV. "What is it?"
"Storm must've passed through," he replies. "We're stuck."
I look over Jesus's shoulder as he peers out the windshield, telling Rick, "No worries. We're here."
I step back, then follow him out, my shield already on my arm. I keep my crossbow up, using the edge of the shield to balance it, in case this community isn't as friendly as its recruiter. "That's us," Jesus says as we gather behind him, looking up at the walled community. "That's the Hilltop."
"Lead the way," I tell him, gesturing forward. He starts off, and we follow him up a path, towards a gate. We all raise our weapons when a voice calls, "Stop right there!"
Jesus holds out his hands towards us, silently telling us to lower the weapons. "Whoa, guys!"
"You gonna make us?" Daryl challenges to the guys on the wall.
"Jesus, what the hell is this?" one of the men questions.
"Open the gates, Kal," Jesus orders. "Freddie's hurt." He looks back at us. "Look, sorry about these guys." He directs the next part towards them. "They get pretty antsy standing up there all day doing nothing."
"They give up the weapons, the shield," Kal demands. "Then we'll open the gates."
"Why don't you come down here and get 'em?" Daryl challenges.
"You'll take my shield over my dead body, asshat!" I snap.
"Gentlemen," Harlan says, stepping forward. "Look, we vouch for these people, all right? They saved us out there."
"Lower the spears," Jesus orders.
"Look, Suburbia, we ain't takin' any chances," I tell Jesus. "Tell your guy Gregory to come out here."
"No," Jesus replies, looking down at me. "Don't you see what just happened? I'm letting you keep your guns. Look, we ran out of ammo months ago. I like your people. I trust you. So I'm asking you, trust us." I don't even look at Rick for approval before placing my crossbow on my shoulder, then raising my hand and gesturing for the others to lower their weapons. Jesus smiles softly before turning to the men on gate duty. "Open the gates, Kal."
The gates squeak as they're opened, allowing us inside Jesus's community. I look around, remembering everything that Jesus claimed they had. Livestock—I see chickens, cows in the distance, and goats. Crops—well, you name it, they're probably growing it. In one stall, a blacksmith works. I turn and walk backwards, looking up at their gate and walls, at their watch posts. They're mostly located along the front, right by the gate. I turn back to Jesus as he says, "There was a materials yard for a power company nearby. That's how we put up the walls. A lot of people came from a FEMA camp. Trailers came with them."
"How did people find out about this place?" Michonne questions.
Jesus gestures up to the mansion before us, in the center of their community. "That's called Barrington House. The family that owned it gave it to the state in the '30s. The state turned it into a living history museum."
"Jesus Christ, I didn't realize we were in for a history lesson," I sigh, earning a laugh out of Abraham.
Jesus chuckles. "Sorry. Every elementary school for fifty miles used to come here for field trips. The place was running a long time before the modern world built up around it. I think people came here because they figured it'd keep running after the modern world broke down. Those windows up there let us see for miles in every direction."
"That explains the lack of watch posts on the perimeter," I note. "You could still do with some, though. Wouldn't hurt."
"It's perfect for security. And Clary, I think you're right. We could use some other watch posts." Jesus gestures for us to follow him. "Come on, I'll show you inside."
We hesitate, not quite ready to lower our guns, but when I keep my crossbow on my back, it shows the others that I trust Jesus enough to walk, unarmed, into an unknown place on his word. I follow him up the steps, carrying my shield as I can't have it on my back at the same time as my crossbow. Jesus holds the door open for us, closing it after Maggie, as we look around the mansion. I said before that the homes in Alexandria were like mansions, but they've got nothing on Barrington. Hell, the place is damn near as fancy as the White House. Abraham draws, "Good gracious ignatius."
"Most of the rooms have been converted to living spaces," Jesus tells us. "Even the ones that weren't bedrooms."
"People live here and the trailers?" Rick questions.
"We plan to build. There's babies being born."
To the left, a door opens, and a grey haired man steps through. "Jesus," he says. "You're back. With guests."
"Everyone, this is Gregory. He keeps the trains running on time around here."
"I'm the boss," Gregory simplifies.
"Well, I'm Rick," our leader starts, stepping towards him. "We have a community—"
Gregory cuts him off by saying, "Why don't y'all go get cleaned up, huh?"
"He's joking, right?" I question, glancing over at Jesus as Rick tells him, "We're fine."
"Jesus will show you where you can get washed up," Gregory continues. "Then come back down here when you're ready. It's hard to keep this place clean."
"Yeah, sure," Rick gives. As Jesus leads us up a flight of stairs, Rick makes a request to Maggie that she be the first one to speak to Gregory, as she's good at this type of thing. At the top of the stairs, I stop and look down at Gregory on the floor below, watching us. I find myself wondering if everything is what it seems, believing something to be hidden. Something big. A secret that could harm us all. And when I look down at Gregory, seeing the worry he attempts to mask with the smile on his face, I know that I'm right. "Oh, shit," I mutter. "What the hell did I get us into?"
"We want to generate trade," Jesus tells us. "Gregory does. But ammo isn't something we urgently need."
"Well, how's that?" Rick questions.
"The walls hold. We just brought in more medicine. Gregory wants the best deal possible."
"Yeah, well, we want things, too," Daryl says, pacing behind me as I sit on the arm of a chair Rick leans against.
"We need food, Jesus," I tell him. "We came all this way, didn't we? We're gonna get it."
"I will talk to him," Jesus promises. "And we will work this out. Circumstances change. We're doing well now, and you will next. I will make him understand that. Can you give me a few days?"
I look up at Rick, waiting for his approval to take charge again before I answer, but Michonne beats me to it. "We can."
Rick gestures over to Michonne. "What she said."
"Clary?" Jesus questions. "You coming here, it was your choice. You've got the final word."
I scoff at that. "Yeah, sure I do. I'm just a soldier, Jesus, that takes charge when I need to. It ain't up to me."
"Yes, it is," Jesus argues. "I won't do anything without your go ahead, your approval. You're in charge of the people of Alexandria now."
"Jesus, I'm sorry, but... I'm not the leader of my people." I gesture beside me to Rick. "He is."
Jesus frowns, looking more disappointed than saddened. "You know, you really had me fooled there, Clary. I really believed you were in charge."
"What Rick says, goes. So we're givin' you a few days."
We turn as the front door opens, Gregory coming out of his office when he hears it. To the man that opens the door, he questions, "What's wrong?"
"They're back," he answers. Gregory shares a look with Jesus before heading towards the door, and I get to my feet, following behind them, my group on my heels. I don't take my shield off my back, not yet, and leave my crossbow in house, as I'm not sure what we're up against. As we head towards the gate, a group of two men and a woman make their way towards us, the man with the beard in the lead. Gregory calls, "Ethan, what happened to everybody else? Where's Tim and Marsha?"
"They're dead," Ethan answers, stopping in front of Gregory while the other two hang back.
"Negan?" Gregory questions, and I freeze. That's the secret. That's what he's hiding.
"Yeah."
"We had a deal."
"He said it wasn't enough," the second man in the group replies. "Was the drop light?"
"No."
"They still have Craig," the woman tells Gregory.
"They said they'd keep him alive, return him to us, if I deliver a message to you," Ethan says, stepping closer to Gregory.
"So tell me," Gregory says as Ethan places a hand on his shoulder.
My hand drifts to my knife as I open my mouth to tell Gregory to back up, but Ethan cuts me off before I can. "I'm sorry."
As he plunges the knife into Gregory's stomach, Rick and I start forward at the same time. We each take one of Ethan's arms, pulling him away, while Jesus and Maggie catch Gregory before he can fall. "Get off of me!" Ethan yells, trying to free himself. "I had to!"
He rips his arm from my grasp, thrusting the knife towards me. I jump back to avoid it, falling back onto my shield. From my spot on the ground, I can see Ethan taking a swing at Rick, who uses the same move Jesus used on me, a knee to the stomach, to knock him down. As Michonne runs over to me, Rick kneels over Ethan, throwing punches. Michonne pulls me to my feet, quickly checking to make sure I wasn't hurt, as the second guy on the drop team pulls Rick off of Ethan, throwing him to the ground. Abraham steps in, shoving the second guy away from him. They fall off to the side as Rick sits on Ethan's chest, throwing another punch. Daryl steps in to help Abraham, and the man on top of him cries out as Daryl takes his arm, pulling and not letting go. Rick, distracted by the cry of pain, loosens his hold on Ethan, who takes the opportunity to roll over so he's on top. He puts his knife to Rick's neck, causing Glenn to start froward, crying, "Hey!"
"Stay back!" Ethan yells. "Anyone who tries to stop me is killing my brother!"
I hesitate for a second at that, knowing that I would do the same to Rick that he did to Gregory if I were in Ethan's shoes, but right now, Rick's in danger and Daryl's safe. I take my shield off my back, slowly putting it on the ground and trying not to make any noise. I stay out of Ethan's line of vision as I make my way towards him, Michonne ordering him, "Drop it."
Ethan turns to look at Michonne, and I make my move, jumping on his back and slitting his throat. Rick takes action at the same time, our knives nearly meeting at the same spot as he drives his knife into Ethan's neck, blood pouring down onto him. I roll off of Ethan, pulling his body with me, as Rick gets to his feet. "You good?" I question, holding out a hand towards him as I take Ethan's knife.
"Yeah," he replies, looking around the people of Hilltop staring at us. At him, covered in the blood of one of theirs. Rick questions, "What?"
"Ethan!" the other man on the drop team yells from his spot on the ground. "You killed him!"
"He tried to kill Gregory!" Rick justifies. "Then Clary, then me!"
The woman of the team runs forward, throwing a punch that sends Rick to the ground. Michonne steps in, throwing her to the ground and growling, "Don't."
"Couples who kick ass together stay together," I mutter to Rick as I pull him to his feet.
Kal, the man from the gate, starts forward with his spear raised. "Drop it now!"
Rick raises his gun, while I draw mine and take Michonne's, aiming my two guns as a second man with a spear joins Kal. "I don't think I will," I growl.
"Everyone!" Jesus yells, running and putting himself between Rick and I and his people in an attempt to diffuse the situation. He keeps his hands up, much like the way I did this morning to keep Rick and Daryl back. "This is over!" He turns to Rick and I. "It's over." He projects his voice, speaking to everyone now. "Ethan was our friend, but let's not pretend he was anything more than a coward who attacked us. He did this. And these people stopped him." He looks at me. "She stopped him and saved us. Clary Dixon, of Alexandria."
"Jesus," I start. "What are you doing?"
"I'm telling my people what they need to hear. They need to know that there's a hero within your people. Heroes."
"Don't make me into a hero, Jesus. Don't you put me up on a pedestal."
"Let me do it," Jesus requests. "Get more of my people on your side."
As much as I hate it, I agree. We need his people on our side if we're going to make this work. "Alright. What can we do?"
"Put the guns away," he tells me. "You've done enough."
"I ain't puttin' anythin' away until Stabby over there lowers his."
"You talking to me?" Kal questions. "Are you talking to me?"
"Great," I say. "Another guy who's seen Taxi Driver one too many times. Yeah, dumbass, I'm talkin' to you. Put the damn spear down."
"Kal, do what she says," Jesus tells him. "Put it down. We don't need any more death." Kal lowers his spear, and Rick and I follow. Jesus turns to us, speaking a bit quieter now. "You need to know that things aren't as simple as they might seem. Just give me some time."
He walks off without waiting for an answer, running back towards Gregory as Harlan arrives. I look up as Daryl steps up beside me, taking my hand. He's nervous about this, about what's going to happen, so his first instinct is to find me. "You alright?" Daryl murmurs.
"I knew something was up," I reply in the same quiet manner. "I just didn't know what."
"I shoulda known that wasn't the end of Negan back on that road," he mutters. "I was just hopin' we'd finally catch a break."
"Weren't we all?" I question.
~Maggie~
"Doctor Carson was able to patch Gregory up," Jesus reports, stepping into the leader's office where we're all gathered. "He's in pain, but he'll live."
"What happens now?" Michonne questions.
"Things like that don't usually happened here, but it's settled."
"We heard the name Negan," Rick says, taking a step forward. "A while back, Daryl and Abraham had a run-in with his men. Who is he?"
"Negan's the head of a group of people he calls the Saviors," Jesus answers. "As soon as the walls were built, the Saviors showed up. They met with Gregory on behalf of their boss. They made a lot of demands, even more threats. And he killed one of us—Rory." Jesus looks down at Clary. "He was no older than you. They beat him to death right in front of us. Said we needed to understand, right off the bat. Gregory's not exactly good at confrontation. He's not the leader I would've chosen, but he helped make this place what it is, and the people like him."
"He made the deal," I say.
"Half of everything," Jesus says. "Our supplies, our crops, our livestock. It goes to the Saviors."
"And what do you get in return?" Glenn questions.
"They don't attack this place. They don't kill us."
"Cowardly son of a bitch!" Clary barks out, rising from her spot on the couch near Jesus. "That ain't workin' out so well, is it, Jesus? He made a deal, but those Saviors kill yours anyway. It's a shit deal. So why don't you just kill them?"
Jesus scoffs. "Most of the people here don't even know how to fight, even if we had ammo."
"Well, how many people does Negan have?" Rick questions.
"We don't know. We've seen groups as big as twenty."
"Now, hold up," Daryl says. "So they show up, they kill a kid, and you give them half of everything? These dicks just got a good story. The bogeyman, he ain't shit."
"How would you know?" Jesus questions.
"'Bout two months ago, we took out his guys PDQ," Abraham tells him. "Left 'em in pieces and puddles."
"We'll do it," Daryl says, volunteering us for a fight. "If we go get your man back, kill Negan, take out his boys, will you hook us up? We want food, medicine."
"One of them cows," Clary adds. "We'll do it if you hook us up."
Jesus looks to Rick for more of an explanation. When it comes to the Dixons, they have more of a "get it done now, to hell with planning" attitude, rather than waiting and planning it all out. They're always ready to jump into a fight, while the rest of us want to make sure we know what needs to be done to win said fight. Rick tells him, "Confrontation's never been something we've had trouble with."
"I'll take it to Gregory," Jesus confirms before walking off.
Clary starts for the door, and I follow her, not sure if I want to leave her alone after she killed that man. The rest of the group follows us onto the porch, watching as the people of Hilltop burn the body of Ethan. "They have food," Clary says. "We don't. We don't have enough of anything."
"Except us," Rick contradicts.
"Except us," Clary agrees. "What we can do."
Rick turns around to face us as he says, "This is the trade."
"It's gonna cost us something," I say.
"I know," Clary sighs. "It always does. Nothin' comes without a cost. But if we go in quick, Red Dawn this shit, then we stand a chance of losin' nothin'. We can get through this without a cost."
"Can you really?" Jesus questions as he steps out onto the porch. "I mean, you just said it. 'Nothing comes without a cost.' Can you do it without any casualties on our side?"
"I'll do my damn best," Clary answers. "What've you got for us?"
"Gregory's up and he wants to talk." Rick starts forward, being a bit better at things like this than Clary, and Jesus holds up a hand. "To Maggie. He wants to talk to Maggie. And he wants to talk to Clary about your mission to go in."
I look over at Glenn, not wanting to talk to Gregory after the conversation I had with him before. "Deanna was right about you," Rick says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Go."
Jesus steps back, holding the door open for Clary and I. "I'm sorry in advance," he says. "Gregory can be a real prick."
"Trust me, I know," I mutter.
"Paul, you should've told me sooner," Clary mutters. I wonder for a second who Paul is, then realize that it's Jesus's real name. "I would've been glad to take out Negan."
"I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I didn't want to jeopardize any trust you had in me. But I would've told you, if I had known that."
She seems to accept it, as she doesn't snap back at him like she would to anyone else. Clary stays silent beside me, her hands clasped in front of her with her shield on her back, as we head into Gregory's room, like some sort of bodyguard.
"Sorry for the gloom," Gregory apologizes as I shut the door behind us. "They have me on these antibiotics that make me sensitive to the sunlight. This is agony. It's like somebody's twisting my intestines with a cement mixer."
"It could've been worse," I tell him, remembering the day I met Rick and Clary, how they showed up to the house with an injured Carl. "You're lucky we were here."
"Let's dismiss with the niceties and proceed to the matter at hand," Clary says, breaking her silence. "Jesus told you about our offer, yes?"
"He did," Gregory answers. "What makes you think you can do what we haven't done?"
Clary puts her hands on the footrest of the bed, leaning forward as she growls, "We're not a bunch of sniveling cowards. We've handled people like Negan. And we can do it again."
"How?"
"They're dead," I say. "We can get your man back."
"I don't know if Craig's worth the trouble," Gregory says with a sigh. "I mean, it's his brother who did this."
"He was fightin' to save someone he loves," Clary says. "If I was in Ethan's shoes, Daryl in danger, Rick right there in front of me, I wouldn't hesitate. Not if it was for Daryl. I'd kill for him, die for him, in a heartbeat. He was afraid."
"That makes him weak. Frankly, I don't know if I want him back in our gene pool."
"No," Clary says. "It made him strong. The fear is what keeps you goin'. The fear of losin' your blood, your family, that gives you the courage you wouldn't have the strength to do before."
"My dad used to tell me that forgiveness takes more strength than anger," I say.
"Yeah, I guess," Gregory sighs. "He's a hell of a cook. He makes these amazing baked eggs with green tomatoes."
"You give us supplies, we'll save Craig and take care of Negan and the Saviors," I say.
"Permanently," Clary adds.
Gregory laughs. "I'm sorry. I find this whole conversation pretty funny. I mean, you balked when I proposed that your people work for our supplies, but now… isn't that exactly what's happening here? See, I had leverage, and I used it."
Clary chuckles humorlessly, almost darkly. "Oh, darlin', you wish. We have a mutual enemy, one that's a threat to my people. We're takin' 'em out, and we'll get your man back in the process. Nothin' more. But if we're gonna be protectin' you from 'em, well, we want somethin' in return. So, tell me, which one of us has the leverage here?"
"Are you threatening me?" Gregory questions.
"Oh, no, we're not," I say, joining Clary at the end of the bed. "We want half."
"Excuse me?"
"Half of what you have. I saw what happened out there. Negan's expecting more supplies from this place. And more and more. And if it keeps going like that, pretty soon you won't have anything left. What happens then?"
"Contracts end, Gregory," Clary says. "You don't have ammo. Jesus is your only fighter. You might as well be a dead man. So half of everythin' you have, right now. We get half of what you have, and then everything we get after we take out the Saviors, we get to keep that, too. Or the deal's off. You see? We ain't threatenin' you. We're just usin' the leverage we got."
"Congratulations," Gregory says. "You have yourself a deal."
Clary smirks. "I knew you'd make the right choice."
