Chapter 10: It's All a Facade

~Clary~

"We can work with the Hilltop," Rick says from his spot at the front of the church, where he's gathered everyone to tell them of our plan to attack the Saviors and of the trade with Jesus's people. "Maggie and Clary hammered out a deal. We're getting food. Eggs, butter, fresh vegetables. But they're not just giving it away. These Saviors, they almost killed Sasha, Daryl, and Abraham on the road. Now, sooner or later, they would've found us, just like those Wolves did. Just like Jesus did. They would've killed someone or some of us. And then they would try to own us."

"They'd try to make us their bitch," I add, staying seated on the table behind Rick. "But we ain't nobody's bitch. So we would try to stop them. But by then, in that kind of fight, low on food, we could lose. This is the only way to be sure."

"As sure as we can get, that we win," Rick adds. "And we have to win. We do this for the Hilltop, it's how we keep this place. It's how we feed this place. This needs to be a group decision. If anybody objects, here's your chance to say your piece."

For a few minutes, no one speaks. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Jesus and the man from the drop team, Andy. They sit in silence, waiting for their help to arrive in the form of the fighters of Alexandria. Then, the peace-loving, Kumbaya-singing son of a bitch stands. "You're sure we can do it?" Morgan questions. "We can beat 'em?"

"What this group has done, what we've learned. What we've become, all of us. Yes, I'm sure."

"Then all we have to do is just tell 'em that."

"It ain't that easy, Morgan," I say. "They ain't lookin' to compromise."

"This isn't a compromise. It's a choice you give them. It's a way out, for them and for us."

"We try and talk to the Saviors, we give up our advantage, our safety," Rick argues with a shake of his head. "No. We have to come for them before they come for us."

"We're not alone anymore," I say. "We're not safe. Our world's been turned upside down. We can't leave these people alive."

"Where's there's life, there's possibility," Morgan argues.

"Yeah, of them hitting us!" Rick snaps.

"We're not trapped in this. None of you are trapped in this."

"Morgan, they always come back."

"They come back where they're dead, too. This isn't something we should do."

"Hypocrite!" I bark, sliding off the table I sit on behind Rick, stepping around him to face Morgan. "You're a damn hypocrite, and a fool, too! We need everyone, not just a few! You're a killer, Morgan. Don't you lie to me. I know what you've done. I've seen what you've done. We need everyone here!"

"Everyone's a hypocrite nowadays," he replies.

"Hmm, I suppose you're right," I say, then gesture to Gabriel. "We have preachers who kill." With my other hand, I gesture to Rick. "And there are killers who preach." I throw a hand out towards Eugene. "There are teachers who lie." I gesture to myself. "And liars who teach." With one hand, I gesture towards Morgan, and with the other, I gesture around the room. "Take your pick, Morgan, 'cause it's all a facade."

"I dunno," Daryl says, still skeptical of trusting Jesus, even after all he's seen. After me pleading him to trust the man from Hilltop. "They're not even our group. They're someone else."

"You doubt us, Daryl," Jesus says, speaking up, "You say we're not one but two, and you don't know if we're evil or good. You think we're waiting to break through the facade."

"Between the two of us, there ain't a facade," I say, looking over at Jesus. "We're one in the same. We're not a Jekyll or Hyde. We're just Jekyll. We're the good. Both of us. Both of our groups. We're gonna help you, but it can't just be me." I turn my attention from Jesus to the Alexandrians, desperate to recruit them. "Look, I know this whole thing sounds sordid, but this is something we have to do. We'll be rewarded in the end." The group sitting in the pews mutter to themselves quietly, their eyes on me. "Of course, quid pro quo, you'll be expected to take, uh, certain duties on board."

"Is this something we can afford?" Eric questions.

"This is the only way we can keep our safety," I say, projecting my voice so there is no mistaking what I say. "There is no other way to say this. You'll die unless you stand by me. You'll die if we don't do this, 'cause they will find us, and they will kill us. Look, I know I just stood up here and told y'all that I'm a liar. But for once, I ain't lying. This is something that I know we have the ability to do. It won't be a problem for us. So we do this, or we die."

"I haven't seen all of you fight, but I have seen Clary fight," Jesus notes. "I know what she can do, and I can imagine what the rest of you can do. The Saviors won't know what hit 'em."

"They don't get to live to know," I say, and as I say my next line, I find myself remembering the Governor's words at the fall of the prison. "We get our guns, we go in. We kill 'em all." I look around at the group, knowing some of them have never taken a life and are uneasy about doing so. "Look, we don't all have to kill." I start down the aisle towards the door. "But those people staying here, they do have to accept it." I stop next to Morgan as I put my shield on my arm, using it to push him down into his seat. When he tries to fight back, I use my shield to block him from getting up. "So accept it, asshole. We're doin' it, with or without you. We take out every single one of 'em. And we show no mercy."

Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, and I gather in our home with Andy and Jesus, standing around a table. I grab a Sharpie from a drawer, holding it over the blank page before me, and I tell Andy, "Describe it."

"Rectangular building," he starts, and I draw it as he says it. "Big satellites on it."

"Any windows?"

"I don't remember any. I think they made it so there's only one way in."

"Guards outside?"

"Yeah, two of them, at least."

"And you don't know how many people they have?" Michonne questions.

"No," Andy replies. "Uh, I mean, not really. But I saw a place where they stored food. It wasn't that big, so…"

"You've been inside?" Rick questions.

"Yeah. They had us load in supplies one time."

Glenn slaps another piece of paper down in front of me as he asks Andy, "What do you remember?"

"Can I have that?" Andy asks, holding out his unbroken hand (the broken one courtesy of Daryl, during the fight at Hilltop) towards me. I pass the Sharpie over, standing aside as he starts to draw the inside. "I remember it, just can't describe it. It's easier like this."

"You didn't see any other rooms?" Maggie questions, looking at the drawing from across the table as he labels one pantry.

"No," Andy answers. "It's a big place. This is the hallway I saw. There is more."

"And every time, they had you bring things into here?" Michonne asks, pointing to the pantry.

"So we're goin' in blind, essentially," I say. "That's fuckin' great."

"We brought a couple of spears for them," Andy continues. "Two of the Saviors took them down this hallway. Now, they must've done something with them because they didn't come back with them."

"Maybe a weapons locker," Jesus suggests.

"Exactly," I agree. "An armory. Swing a right at the end of this hallway." I look up at Glenn. "You, me, and Heath, that's the way we'll go. If we take the armory, those sons a bitches'll kneel before us."

"That's how Carol ended it here," Maggie says, remembering the Invasion of Alexandria.

"But we don't know if they have an armory, or where it even is," Andy sighs.

"Well, we've got a lot of good guesses," Daryl says. "We've done more with less."

"We go in at night while they're sleeping," I say. "Use knives, keep it quiet."

"The guards won't be sleeping," Andy points out. "Like I said, I think there is only one way in and there is no way to bust through that door without waking up the rest of them."

"We don't need to," Rick says. "They're gonna open it for us. Let us walk right in."

"They want Gregory's head, right?" I question. "We're gonna give it to 'em." I get a look of concern and fear for their leader from Jesus and Andy. "Smokescreens, guys. It's all a facade."

As I lay awake, waiting for the sunrise, I find myself dreading it. Dreading what we're going to be doing tonight, after the sun has set. We have no other choice, that's true, but that doesn't mean I like going in, killing everyone. I don't like killing, but if it's between them and me, then I'm gonna choose to live. I've got too much to lose, I think as I look down at Carl, soundly asleep for the first time in a while beside me. We can't lose anything, anyone else. I've gotta kill 'em all so we can be safe.

I wiggle out from under Carl's arm, careful not to wake him, and I press my lips to his forehead before pulling on my shoes. I take one last look at him over my shoulder before I gently close the door, then turn and walk downstairs, out onto the porch. I take a seat on the railing, pulling a cigarette out of the pack I grabbed and lighting it. "Those things'll give you cancer," a voice says from down the street.

"Yeah? So do all the good times," I reply, looking down at Jesus as he leans against the railing beside me. I mutter, "I got other things to worry 'bout."

"I suppose you do," he replies, tilting his head to look up at me. "You should be getting some sleep before tomorrow."

"I could say the same to you," I reply as he climbs up onto the railing beside me. I lower my cigarette, looking down at the scar that was left after I burned myself when I thought Glenn was dead. When I felt nothing but guilt over him, and I just wanted to feel something, so I turned to the pain. Now, it's the exact opposite. I wish I could feel nothing, knowing what we're about to do. I glance up at Jesus, who watches me, before asking, "Have you ever done something like this before?"

"No, never," he replies. "What about you?"

I nod slowly. "In Georgia, we found this place that we thought was safe. But it turned out to be full of cannibals. So we took 'em out. A few lived, and I was in Atlanta when they came for the rest of us. We lost one of ours to 'em, but we killed 'em all."

"You think we're gonna lose," Jesus says slowly. "Not the fight, but your people."

"Our people," I correct without thinking.

"Did you… did you just say 'our?'"

I hesitate to answer, procrastinating by putting the cigarette out, careful not to burn myself. When I glance back at Jesus, I find him waiting for an answer. I bite my lip, hesitating before I finally say, "We're in this together, that's what I mean."

"And here I thought I was starting to grow on you."

"Like a bad fungus, maybe," I scoff, but give him a small smile.

"Wow," Jesus laughs, feigning hurt. "And here I thought we had something special."

"In your dreams, Romeo."

"Does that make you Juliet?" Jesus questions, leaning closer.

"Jesus, oh Jesus, wherefore art thou an idiot?" I question, giving him a playful shove, but he ends up falling off the railing. I try my best not to laugh, trying not to break character. "Deny thy Negan and refuse thy Saviors. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my knife, and I'll no longer be a survivor."

"Shall I hear more or shall I speak at this?" Jesus asks from his spot on the ground. He pushes himself up, getting to his feet. "I had no idea you were into such sophisticated things. First Jekyll and Hyde, and now Romeo and Juliet?"

"Hey, I might be a Georgia homegrown Dixon, but that don't mean I ain't allowed to like theater. I mean, I played Sherrie in Rock of Ages with my friends, Sam and Sebastian."

"You were in a production of Rock of Ages? You were what, fifteen before the start? How the hell did your high school do that?"

"Oh, it wasn't a high school production. There was a theater group a town over for high school and college-age kids that did productions that weren't really, uh, school appropriate. I got involved after I watched 'em do Jekyll and Hyde, and the members voted on which musical they were doing next. So Rock of Ages came up, and I recruited Sammy and his older brother, Sebastian. None of us had ever had a leading role, so we were all surprised when Sam got Stacee and Seb landed Drew. They figured they were gonna be ensemble."

"Oh, I got it," Jesus says, climbing back up on the banister beside me. "Hey, don't push me off again, yeah? That'd be nice."

"Shut up," I laugh, and my grin fades as I find myself wondering how I could smile, laugh, at a time like this, when we're about to go and massacre an entire group tomorrow. In less than twenty-four hours. I look up as Jesus as I tell him, "Thank you."

"For what?" he questions.

"For takin' my mind off what we're 'bout to do," I answer, my voice quiet as I try not to let him see how scared I am. He sees through the fake exterior, though, and wraps an arm around me.

"We're gonna make it, okay?" Jesus murmurs. He slides off the railing, landing on the ground. He holds up a hand, waiting for me to take it. "Come on. Come with me." I hesitantly take his hand, and he pulls me off the porch, down into the front lawn with him. He takes a seat, then lays on his back, patting the grass beside him. I sit down beside Jesus, and he pulls me down, making me lay beside him. "When I was little, my mom used to tell me that if I was ever scared, just look up at the sky. 'No matter if it's night or day, just look up, and it'll be okay.' That's what she always told me. Just wait for the sun to go down, for it to come up, whatever, and you'll make it through." Jesus props himself up on his elbow, leaning over me. "We'll make it through this, Clary. We will." With his free hand, he gestures up to the night sky above us. "Just look up."

I find myself looking up at him instead of the sky, trusting him over the stars to keep me going through tomorrow. He lets out a bit of a chuckle when I suddenly wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his neck. Jesus wraps one arm around me, using the other to keep himself up, from falling on me. "It's gonna be alright," he whispers. "We'll be okay. We all will. We'll make it through."

As we slow to a stop, the drivers press the horn, using the noise to draw any walkers nearby. Our big plan to trick the Saviors into thinking we killed Gregory is to find a walker that looks like him, and give them its head.

We climb out of the vehicles, breaking off into groups. "You know what to do," Rick calls from the lead. "Break off every quarter mile. We'll meet back here in a couple of hours, see what we got."

"Glenn, Heath!" I call, putting my shield on my arm. "Y'all Rush Hour boys are with me!"

"The gang's back together, then," Heath says with a bit of a grin as we start off into the woods.

"Not all of us," Glenn mutters.

"That son of a bitch was never one of us," I say, turning to look at him as we walk. "You gotta stop blamin' yourself for it. He wasn't ready. It's his own fault. And he nearly killed you."

Glenn's silent, and Heath adds, "She's right, you know. What happened then, it's not on you."

"I used his body to shield myself from them," Glenn says, speaking for the first time about what happened that day. When he got back, he refused to say how he survived. We all knew, or had a good guess, at least. But we never knew for sure, and he never wanted to speak of it. "I used… a man's body… to save myself."

"Glenn," I say, stopping and taking his hand in my free one. "Look at me, Glenn. Look at me. I need to know you're listenin'." After a moment, Glenn turns to me. "Nicholas was already dead. You had no other choice. He was dead, you were still alive, and you had to live. It's simple enough."

"Is it really that simple?"

"It's gotta be. If you haven't accepted what this world is, you die. Once you do, once you accept it, livin' becomes the priority."

"I hate to interrupt the bonding moment," Heath says, starting forward. "But we got walkers."

"You good, Short Round?" I question, using my shield to knock a walker back as I unsheathe my knife.

"Yeah," he says, joining Heath and I as we take down the few walkers that have stumbled upon us. We gather around one of them, Heath questioning, "What do you think?"

"Maybe," Glenn says, kneeling to get a better look at the walker. "If we, uh, cut the hair, trim the beard. If it's dark."

"We're gonna kill those people," Heath says as Glenn straightens, watching him. "Tonight. Look, I've been lucky. I haven't had to do it before. Have you?"

"I've been lucky, too," Glenn says.

"Looks like I drew the short straw," I sigh, glancing up at the sky. "Twenty-two." I close my eyes, tightening my grip on my knife as I force myself not to break. "I've taken the lives of twenty-two people. And tonight, it's gonna go up."

"You nervous?" Heath questions.

"Of course," I say, opening my eyes now.

Glenn asks, "Have you ever seen something that, um, afterwards, you… you didn't want to sleep and you weren't hungry because when you close your eyes… you could see it? And when you try to eat…"

"Yeah," Heath says.

"Me, too."

"I think we all have," I say.

"Killing somebody has got to be worse than that," Glenn says, looking up at Heath. "It has to be. So, yeah, I'm nervous. For the whole thing."

I drop to my knees, letting my knife drop to the ground beside me. "It's worse," I manage, my voice cracking as I let out a sob. "It's so much worse. Everything that they ever were, ever could be, is gone in a moment, like breath on a mirror. Just like that. They were just normal people like us, before it all. And now they're dead, 'cause of me. 'Cause I'm a selfish bitch that chose to keep on livin', instead of lettin' someone else live. Someone more worthy. If I could, I wouldn't hesitate to go back to the first day of this hell. I'd trade places with Sam in an instant. With Sebastian. Any one of 'em, just to keep 'em alive."

I close my eyes as Glenn kneels beside me, pulling me into a tight embrace. "If it's too much, you don't have to go in there, Clary," Glenn murmurs. "You don't have to fight."

"I do," I reply, shaking my head. "I gotta go in there, 'cause you'll die if I don't. You ain't never killed, Glenn. And to be quite honest, I don't think you're strong enough to. I have to go in so you don't gotta kill."

Glenn's silent for a few moments, then looks over at Heath, who carries the head of a walker that could resemble Gregory in one hand. "We should be getting back soon," Glenn tells us, getting to his feet. He takes my hand, telling me, "C'mon."

I follow them, sitting on the hood of a truck in silence once we return. When I see Daryl return with Jesus, I slide off the hood, heading over to them. I get a look of confusion from Daryl when I pass him, completely ignoring him as I take Jesus's arm. I pull the latest addition to this tragic affair off to the side, not meeting his eyes. "Clary?" Jesus asks. "Is everything okay? What's going on that you come to me and not your brother?"

"I'm trying, Jesus, I am," I tell him, looking up at him now. "But I can't do this no more. I just want it to be over. All of it. I said once that sixteen years ain't enough, but they're far too many for me. I want it to be over."

"No," Jesus argues. "No, Clary, listen to me. Always keep fighting. You have to keep fighting, for them. Your group can't lose you. You're too damn important."

"I'm just a soldier. That's it. I'm a weapon. Screw me bein' Cap. I'm Bucky and they're Hydra."

"No, Clary, no. That's not what I meant," he says, shaking his head. "Yeah, you're an amazing fighter, but you bring so much more to the table. Your group cares about you so damn much, but you're too blind to see it. You're too absorbed with your self-hatred to see any of it. You're one of the most important people in this entire world to your family. You have to keep going. Promise me."

"I'm horrible at keeping promises, Jesus," I reply. "But I'll do what I can."

"Come on," Jesus says softly, holding out a hand towards me. "Rick's gathering everyone."

I take his hand, letting him lead me to where Rick stands with a few members of the group. I stick next to him, practically on his arm as the others begin to gather around us. "We're gonna take a look around," Rick tells us. "Try to get a feel for how many people are in there. We like how it looks, we go in. A couple of hours before dawn. The guards outside'll be tired. Everyone inside'll be sleeping. We don't like what we see, we head back, make a new plan. They don't know who we are. We'll keep Jesus in the shadows tonight. This is how we eat, we live. We roll out at midnight." Rick turns to me, as I had one of the largest parts in all of this. "Clary? Anything you want to add?"

"Daryl and I go first," I say, heads turning to look at me when I speak, a few people raising their eyebrows when they see how closely I'm standing to Jesus. They know I don't trust people easy, and I'm almost never this close to anyone. "We're the elite team. We take out the guards. We have guns, but we're fighting with knives tonight. That's the whole point of going in as quiet as we can. So keep your safety on, 'cause this is our one shot to live another day. We can't let any stray shots give us away."

"What about if we have to retreat?" Aaron questions. "Should we have a signal so we know when to?"

I think for a minute, then decide. "Rochambeau. That's the code word."

"You heard her," Rick says. "Jesus, with me."

As Rick walks off, Jesus hesitates to follow, looking down at me. I release my grip on his hand, but he gestures with a nod of his head for me to join him. I follow him as he starts to the front of the RV, where the heads of walkers with a resemblance close to Gregory are laid out in a line. "Take a look," Rick tells Jesus. "What've we got?"

Jesus looks at them for a few moments, then points to the one in the middle. "That one."

"Yeah, that's it," Andy agrees.

"Alright," Rick says.

"Though it's probably good we're doing this at night," Jesus says.

"Something wrong with it?"

"The nose. Gregory's is a different shape."

"Yeah, he's right," I agree, thinking back to the time Maggie and I spent making the deal. "His looks different."

"Hey, Clary," Rick says, glancing up at me from where he kneels beside the head. "You mind?"

I'm about ready to ask him what he means when he holds the head up, away from him, and it clicks. I throw a punch, the head swinging a bit in Rick's loose hold. "Tighten it up a bit," I say.

Rick adjusts his grip, and I throw two more punches at my heat of the moment punching bag. "Y'all say he fought back," I tell them, then glance over at Andy. "He broke your hand, right?"

"Guess there's no reason to be subtle about it," Jesus sighs.

"Shoulda seen what we did to Terminus," I say. "Explosions. Looked like Michael Bay directed it."

I glance over at Andy, who stares at Rick and I, and the former officer questions, "What?"

"Those Saviors, they're scary," he replies, turning to walk off. "But those pricks got nothing on you two."

"Should we take that as a complement?" I ask.

"That's the question, isn't it?" Rick sighs.

"You know what, I'm takin' it as a complement."

"Probably not how he meant it, but sure," Jesus says. "Take it as a complement." He looks down at me. "You good?"

"Don't got much of another choice." I look down at Rick's watch. "We got five hours 'till midnight. Best get your shit together 'fore then. If anyone freezes up in there, we're all dead."

~Glenn~

From the shadows, we watch as Andy drives up to the compound, the two guards barking out orders for him to stop, then to approach on foot with "Gregory's" head. After a tense moment, one of the guards throws the head into the grass, starting inside to retrieve Hilltop's man. At the edge of the building, just around the corner and out of sight, I can make out Clary and Daryl kneeling, waiting for the second man to disappear inside. Clary gives her brother a small push, urging him forward, and he takes out the man left outside with Andy. As she steps out of the shadows, into the eery light cast on the parking lot by the red lights, she raises her hand, waving us forward.

A small group of us run forward, moving the Savior's body out of the way while Andy takes his gun. While Daryl and the rest of us run back to where we were, Clary disappears between the bushes and the building, out of sight of the door. The second Savior emerges, Craig in tow, and Clary steps out from behind the bushes. She slices his neck, and he drops to the ground. Andy catches Craig, calming him down, as Clary drives her knife into the Savior's head. She lets out a whistle, not loud enough to wake or alert anyone inside, but loud enough to give us the clear, as well as the order to take the safety off our guns. Clary tosses a set of keys to her brother, who holds the door open as we file inside, weapons raised. Once inside, we start splitting off, my group momentarily following Rick's group of Daryl and Michonne, accompanied by Rosita and Aaron. I watch Clary as we walk, finding it odd seeing her without her signature crossbow, but she chose to leave it with the vehicles, knowing that she wouldn't have to reload a gun after every shot. She keeps her shield up, using the edge of it to balance her handgun. "Check the doors," Rick orders in a whisper. "Find the arsenal. We take them out."

As we come to a crossway, Rick's group still in the original corridor, Clary takes over giving orders. "Rosita, Aaron, you two go left," she whispers. "Heath, Glenn, you stay with me."

"Should we start at the other end or right here?" I inquire.

"Here," she replies. "If we go to the end, accidentally alert someone, then we'd have to get through these guys. No, you clear the end closest to the exit first, in case you gotta run." Clary holsters her gun, reaching for the handle of a door. "Guns up, but be ready to grab your knives. We don't got silencers."

I adjust my grip on my gun, swallowing the fear I have at killing after seeing what so much of it has done to the one I'd say is the strongest in our group, as she opens the door. Two men are inside, both sleeping. "Do you want me to?" Clary whispers, drawing her knife.

"No, we've got it," Heath replies, mirroring her action. Clary looks to me, and I give her a nod as I draw my knife. I get on my knees beside his cot, my knife hovering over his head. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes as I adjust my grip, preparing to end it. Just as I get ready to push down, Clary's hand closes around mine, guiding my hand down as the blade pierces his head. In my ear, Clary whispers, "It gets easier after the first one. The act of it, not what comes after. That doesn't change." She guides the knife out of his head, placing her free hand on my chin as she forces me to look at her. "Hey, hey, stay with me, okay? Stay strong." She looks back down at the Savior. "Two."

I take my knife back, getting to my feet as I see Heath on the other side of the room, hesitating to do it. I place my hand over his before he can end this Savior's life, and he steps away, giving me a look of gratitude as I dirty my hands so he doesn't have to. I plunge my knife into the Savior's head, doing it on my own this time. "Heath," Clary whispers, standing with him by the doorway. "Hey, you don't gotta, okay? We… I can do it. I can do it all. You ain't comfortable with it, and that's okay. But if one's comin' at you, you can't hesitate."

"Clary," I breath, staring at the pictures hung above the Savior's bed. "Clary, look at this."

"What is—" Clary starts, then cuts herself off as she sees the pictures. "Holy shit. These sons a bitches deserve this."

Nearly two dozen polaroids, taped to the wall, of people with, well, their heads bashed in. Pictures of the brutal murders of many. "What could do something like this?" I whisper. "Who would?"

"A sick bastard," Clary answers after a moment. "And I don't know. But if that's the aftermath, I'd hate to see what happens during." She takes my arm, tugging me away from the pictures. "Come on. We've got more rooms to check."

We start down the hall, separating further from the others. We all freeze, looking up or around at each other when the alarms start blaring. "Shit," Clary breathes, putting her knife away and drawing her gun. "Go for the armory. I'll cover you." She faces the opposite end of the hallway, using her shield to cover herself as she aims her gun. "They're comin'."

I pull Heath with me through a door as they come around the corner, firing. Clary drops into a crouch so they don't shoot her legs, and returns fire, taking down two of the group. "Clary!" Heath barks.

"Just go!" she shouts, putting her head down behind the shield as they fire at her. "Get out of here!"

"No!" I yell to her. "Not without you!"

Heath fires on the Savior, providing cover for Clary as she runs and joins us. We take off, Heath covering us from behind as we run. "There!" Clary barks, gesturing to a door at the end of the hallway. "Shoot the lock!"

We fire at the door as we get closer, and I push it open, hitting the deck once I'm inside, and Clary throws her shield down beside me. "Heath!" Clary yells, firing around him at the Saviors that chase us. "C'mon!"

As soon as he's in, they slam the door shut, dropping down beside me. We cover our heads as gunfire rings out, getting closer. Gunfire suddenly erupts from inside the armory, and I open my eyes to see Clary on the ground between us, firing the first gun she grabbed at the door. Heath and I grab the first guns we can reach, getting to our feet as we fire, not wanting to let Clary do it alone. When no more gunfire rings out, we lower our guns, Heath pulling Clary to her feet, and she looks around before remarking, "Well, we found the armory."

"Is now really the best time to be joking?" I question, reaching for the door. I push it open to find the bodies of the group chasing us, blood splattered on the walls, the floor slick with it. Clary barks out a warning, and before she can even finish, there's a gunshot. The man that was leaning against the wall slumps to the side, gun falling to the ground. Clary looks around at the bodies before us, saying, "That's nine. Tonight alone."

"Jesus," Heath says, and we follow his gaze to the man himself. He stands in silence, looking down at the man he killed before up at us. As he pulls the mask away from his face, Jesus solemnly says, "This is the next world."

"No," Clary says, stepping out of the armory, towards him. "This is the world now. The world is ugly, but it's what we're livin' in. I don't know what the next one'll be. Hell, I don't know if I'll be there to see it. I don't know if any of us will. But what you call the next world is the one we're livin' in, 'cause we just gotta move on to the one after that. We've just gotta finish this level, and then we can go to the next. And that one, it might be a place worse than this, but I wanna think it'll be one better. Law of averages have gotta catch up."

Jesus is quite, his eyes closed as he processes her words. I look past Clary, watching him, but our attentions snaps to her when she lets out a cry. We find her on the ground, one of the Saviors that we thought to be dead on top of her, knife to her throat. "Glenn," she chokes out.

We raise our guns, but the Savior barks, "I'll kill the bitch!" We all freeze, knowing how dangerous people are when they're cornered. "Drop 'em!" We hesitate. "I said, drop 'em! I'll kill her!"

I drop my gun first, and Heath and Jesus follow suit. The Savior pulls Clary with him as he gets up, backing away from us, around Jesus and down the hall. For a second, I think I imagine it, but when I look in Clary's eyes, I know I wasn't imagining her whimper of fear as his knife cut into her throat. I take a step forward, and the Savior shifts the knife in his hand, causing Clary to cry out as more blood appears on the blade. "Back up," he orders. "I'll slit the bitch from ear to ear."

I don't move any further, and the Savior seems satisfied, so he limps on, keeping his hostage in front of him as he backs up. When he reaches the corner, he throws her to the ground, turning to run before we can grab our guns and shoot. He doesn't even make it around the corner before a gunshot rings out behind me. I turn, surprised, to find Heath standing with his gun raised. I look at him in shock, at how he couldn't kill the Savior in the room, but didn't hesitate when one was threatening Clary. Threatening one of us. I shake off my shock as Jesus and Heath take off to where Clary lays on the ground, not moving. I arrive as Jesus kneels beside her, gently helping her sit up before he moves her hand away from her neck to look at the cut. He pulls off the mask he had been wearing, reaching up to press it against her throat. Clary lets out a whimper of fear, jerking away from him. "Please, not again," she whispers, eyes wide.

"Jesus, keep it away from her face," I tell him. "After Woodbury, things like that scare the hell out of her."

"I gotta stop the bleeding, okay? On your neck," Jesus tells her, quietly informing her of everything he's going to do, waiting to give her a chance to object. Clary lets out a hiss of pain as he presses the black bandanna against her throat. After a minute or two, he pulls it back, and I see a cut about two inches long, still bleeding. Jesus curses under his breath, tying the cloth around Clary's neck. "There, that should be good until we get outta here," Jesus tells her, then looks down at his handiwork with bit of a grin. "Keep it, Clary. It looks good on you."

Clary reaches up to touch the bandanna tied around her neck. "Yeah, if I wanna look like I'm from Scooby Doo."

Jesus scoffs, and his voice softens as he questions, "Are you alright?"

Clary slowly nods, her eyes on Heath. "Thank you," Clary says as Jesus helps her to her feet. Heath won't look her in the eye, and when she notices this, she says, "Hey, Heath. Look at me." He does. "You had to, alright? He was either gonna kill me or get away. Simple enough, alright? You do what you have to do, and then we get to feel it. But not until after the fight is over. And I don't think this fight is over yet."

"But they're all dead," Heath says. "It's over, isn't it?"

"Every time we've gone against something, and we thought it was over, I had this feelin' that it wasn't. And, well, I've been right. I said the Governor would be back, and he was. Woodbury might've burned to the ground, but he still came back, and he killed Hershel. The Terminus people, I said they'd be back, and they killed Bob. In Atlanta, as we were walkin' away, I thought, 'This is too good to be true.' And then… And then Beth was killed. I'm sayin' this ain't over, and it ain't over."

Clary starts back into the armory, reloading her handgun, and we follow her, doing the same. "You guys meet up with Rick and 'em," she orders. "I'm gonna go check on Carol and Maggie."

"Stay safe," I tell her, catching her arm before she can push past Heath, Jesus, and I.

Clary wraps an arm around me, kissing my cheek before pulling away. "I'll do my best, Short Round." Clary pulls Heath, who's slightly shocked at the contact, into a one armed hug before kissing his cheek as well. "That goes for you, too, Skittles. Don't do anythin' dumb." He nods quickly, and Clary faces Jesus in the doorway. "You gonna move, bearded wonder?" Jesus steps aside, and Clary pauses as she passes him. He holds out a hand for her to shake, but she passes it entirely and hugs him instead. Jesus pauses for barely a second before returning the gesture, and Clary kisses him as well before she releases him. "Be careful, all y'all. We're family, and I don't wanna bury mine again."

"Wait!" I call after her, picking up her shield, the paint now scuffed even more than before due to the gunfire. "What about your shield?"

"Get it back to me later," she answers, turning to look back at me. "Take care of it, and it'll bring you luck." Clary turns, walking away now. "You need it more than I do."

"Clary, wait," I say, and she stops again. "Come back to us."

"For you," she says, "a thousand times over."