"The best thing to hold onto in life is each other." — Audrey Hepburn
When Carol came back downstairs, Rick and Georgie had explained everything to her that had happened, not sure how much Michonne might have filled her in on, if at all, and in turn she explained to them what she had witnessed the Wolves to and what she had done. During that part, they had all made sure Tristan was out of earshot as not to upset him. It had been a very trying couple of weeks for the boy. The most normalcy they could afford him, they would. Which is why they had him stay home, watching a Disney movie on the living room TV while Judith played in her playpen while the adults went to address the growing crowd of survivors near the gate.
Carol had gone ahead with Carl, who wanted to be part of the unofficial meeting alongside everyone else. As a teenager who had seen and done all the things he'd seen and done in the last two years of the apocalypse, he'd earned his place with the actual adults. After making sure Tristan and Judith were okay together, and telling him to take Judith and hide with her in an upstairs closet if something went wrong, Rick and Georgie went off together.
Georgie walked a bit slower, to the right of Rick and behind him by only a couple of paces, as they headed toward the gate. Despite the severity of Alexandria's situation and the metaphoric dark cloud hanging over all their heads, she found some joy and amusement in watching Rick walk. He didn't exactly have a small ass, but what he did have was hard to distinguish from how the back of his worn, black jeans sagged. Part of it she attributed to his constant wearing of the gun belt and the multiple weapons that were holstered or hanging off it at any given moment. Part of it also had to do with the fact that he'd been wearing those jeans, and probably no other pair, since the beginning of the end. Despite their not being anything to actually look at from behind, she knew what his ass looked like out of those jeans and that was enough for her. Also, the way he walked; that bowlegged saunter of his that made her weak in the knees.
Admittedly though, he looked better walking toward her like that rather than away from her.
Several people were standing close to the metal panels, checking how secure they really were with the support beams that had been added to where the truck had hit. It had been a suggestion of Tobin's, who had come to the main house while Rick and Georgie were talking with Carol and just being with their kids for a while. It was a suggestion that Tobin had obviously chosen to see Rick about rather than Deanna, to which Rick insisted it should be taken care of, and as a construction crew member, and as former construction crew leader before he passed the torch to the more capable Abraham, Tobin oversaw the beams going up. Everyone else seemed to stand back a ways, just staring at the wall as if they were witnessing a tragic car wreck they could've somehow prevented. They were shocked and horrified and still appeared somewhat ambivalent to it all. Rick and Georgie's people were obviously handling it all better and didn't seem too perturbed other than by the recent losses and the unknown fates of their friends away from Alexandria.
"You can hear it. Some of you saw it," Rick spoke, as he and Georgie got close enough to everyone gathered. He walked right in among them all, to stand among them, and make sure they could all see him and vice versa. "They got back here, half of them; still enough to surround us twenty deep. Look, I know you're scared. You haven't seen anything like this. You haven't been through anything like this. But we're safe for now. The panel the truck hit seems intact. We reinforced it just in case. Either way, the wall's gonna hold together. Can you?" He paced around, trying to focus on different people and see how they were taking in what he was saying. "The others, they're gonna be back."
"They're gonna be back," Rosita repeated in agreement.
Rick looked at her and nodded in a silent thank you for the support she was showing to what he was telling everyone. "Daryl, Abraham, Sasha; they have vehicles. They're gonna lead 'em away, just like the others. And Glenn and Nicholas are gonna walk back through the front gate after," he remarked, pointing ahead of him, but focusing on Maggie when he said it, who clearly appreciated him saying it. "They know what they're doing, and we know what we need to do. We keep noise to a minimum. Pull our blinds at night. Even better: keep the lights out. We'll try to make this place as quiet as a graveyard, see if they move on."
"This place is a graveyard," Francine remarked.
Georgie, with her arms folded across her chest, shot a look over toward the shorthaired brunette. She saw the way Rick nodded, acknowledging her comment, but it didn't sit well with Georgie. She rolled her eyes slightly and noticed Carol staring back at her and it was as if both women were sharing the same thought process about these Alexandrians still not being able to fully grasp the way the world was now and how terrible things of this magnitude were sadly just what happened these days. The sooner they understood and accepted it, the better off they would all be. Until then, they would wind up as nothing more than anyone with a red shirt in an episode of the original series of Star Trek.
"The quarry broke open and those walkers were heading this way. All of them," Aaron stated, stepping forward to say his piece. "The plan that Rick put into place stopped that from happening. He got half of them away.
Georgie could feel the shift in emotions among both Alexandrians and her own people. Everyone had removed their attention away from Aaron for a moment to look to Rick; the Alexandrians with subtle appreciation, and "the family" with pride. The latter knew how Rick was as a leader and understood all he had done for them, how hard he fought to keep them safe, and how fiercely he loved and cared for them all. They knew Rick and they just wanted the Alexandrians to know him the way they did, and to stop second guessing him at every turn.
"I was out there recruiting with Daryl," Aaron continued. "I wanted to try to get into a cannery and scavenge, and Daryl wanted to keep looking for people. We did what I wanted and we wound up in a trap set by those people. And I lost my pack. They must've followed our tracks. Those people who attacked us they found their way back here because of me."
Crowd sentiment shifted again. Suddenly the Alexandrians reacted with disappointment in Aaron as if he had personally invited the Wolves to Alexandria and allowed them to slaughter everyone with open arms. Georgie was sure that if she rolled her eyes any harder at how these people, her eyes would just pop right out of her head.
"All of you have been living in a dream world, and I'm not saying that to sound harsh, but it's a harsh world. No matter what you try and tell yourselves, you haven't been able to grasp that until recent, until today. Actually, I'm not entirely convinced you really have," Georgie spoke up. She uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on her hips with her arms akimbo. Taking a step forward, she turned so that she could back up closer toward the wall and face out. Licking her lips, she carried on. "This community has been so cut off from the way the world is, it's been like a dream; a pleasant dream where you've been able to live normal lives, and that's great. It's just not practical anymore. Aaron brought my group here, Deanna gave us jobs and ya'll welcomed us with open arms and we appreciate that. But you were asleep, in your dream world, and we had to wake you up, because you can't sleep and pretend the real world doesn't exist. It's out there and it's terrible and it's not going away. You gotta face it, and accept it." Georgie glanced over at Maggie, then Rosita and then focused on Rick, who each nodded in agreement in what she was saying. "No one here wanted the attack that happened today to have happened, but Rick's told you countless times already that people like that were out there. It's not Aaron's fault, it's not Rick's. It's no one here's fault that it happened. You're armed now, but you're not prepared, and you need to be for anything that can and will happen." She looked over her shoulder at the metal panel behind her and slowly back at everyone else. "The world's not going away, and neither are we, because we're gonna fight. We're gonna fight to survive with all we got."
As Georgie finished her speech, Deanna began to walk away and, for a moment, Georgie wondered if it had something to do with what she'd just said. However, judging by how staccato the older woman walked and how catatonic she seemed, Georgie had a feeling Deanna was still just processing her grief and the trauma of everything that had been taking place. She wasn't processing it well, though, but hopefully she would snap out of it soon enough. She was supposed to be Alexandria's leader, even if, with Rick's dominant role in the community, she was more of a figurehead now.
"There'll be more to talk about," Rick remarked, eyeing Morgan for a moment as Morgan looked back at him with a slight nod.
"Deanna?" Tobin called out, but she didn't respond and she didn't stop walking away. Everyone else turned around to watch her leave as well. "Deanna!"
Rick looked after, biting down on his bottom lip for half a second, first appearing concerned, and then somewhat aggravated. Georgie narrowed her gaze at him, but he didn't seem to notice she was looking at him. As he began to walk away, more than likely to head back home, Georgie wasn't far behind. Everyone, in fact, began to more or less disperse at that point.
Before she could completely catch up with Rick, Georgie felt a hand on her wrist. Turning around, she saw it was Carol.
"It was good what you said," she commented, lowering her voice. "These people will listen to Rick say the same thing over and over, but it's like they're not hearing him or they don't want to. Hearing it in different ways from different people will help, I think. Or, at least I hope it will, but I won't hold my breath on that."
Georgie nodded, and then smirked slightly. "I know what you told us you did when the attack happened. But, from what Maggie mentioned to us in the Infirmary, you were like a ninja; popping up all over the place, kicking ass and taking names."
A smiled knowingly. "None of the others really know accept our group and Olivia. I'm not sure whether or not I should continue with this whole demure housewife shtick or if I should just drop it."
"Whatever you choose to do, I'll back you on," Georgie replied. "I know what a master of disguise you are. I was there by your side at Terminus, remember? Remember the blood and guts we wiped on ourselves? Yeah, that was fun."
Carol chuckled and gave Georgie a small, but playful shove. "The good ol' days when our friendship was raw and young; right before I introduced you to Rick. And you're welcome, by the way," she quipped with a teasing wink.
"Thank you, I guess," Georgie smiled.
Both women looked up the main road along the pond, at Rick walking away and Carl following not far behind. Their respective amused expressions simultaneously faded and the weight of everything that had happened and that was still happening sank back in.
"Daryl's okay out there, right?" Carol wondered. "I mean, it's not as many walkers to lead away now, so it shouldn't take as long for him, Sasha and Abraham to get back."
Georgie turned and looked at Carol with a nod. "Daryl's gonna be just fine," she insisted, placing a hand on Carol's shoulder. "We all are."
Back at the house, a short while later, Rick was standing in the kitchen with the small of his back pressed against the sink. He was holding a cup of coffee with his right hand while his left hand was stretched out at his side, holding onto the edge of the counter beside the sink. Staring down into the dark brown liquid with subtle tendrils of steam billowing upward, he frowned. The coffee was what was left in the pot from the day before. No one had bother making a fresh pot that morning because all focus had been on getting to the quarry and what the day's activities were supposed to include, not on sitting around to enjoy a cup of Joe. The coffee wasn't great, by any means, but adding some creamer helped. Then again, Rick had no business being picking about what he had to eat or drink anymore; not when he and his family had gone days without something as basic, yet essential, as water and food.
Day old coffee was a treat.
Looking up from the mug, he stared across the kitchen toward the living room where Georgie was cuddling with Tristan, who had his legs draped over her lap as he curled into her side; her arms wrapped protectively and loving around his shoulders. The movie he had been watching had not been finished. When they returned to the house, they returned to find the movie had been turned off and Tristan was holding Judith in his arms. He had been rocking her from side to side, as if they were dancing.
Rick and Carl had come back first. Tristan had been startled and looked almost guilty, as if he shouldn't have even gone near Judith. His worries were soothed by Rick and Carl both smiling kindly at him and Carl offering to put a CD into the stereo.
That's when Tristan shook his head quite adamantly and held Judith tighter in his arms and pressed his cheek to hers. Rick instantly took notice of the change in the nine-year-old. He attempted to ask the boy if he was okay. The way the boy seemed so possessive of Judith felt a bit concerning, and not because he worried about his daughter's safety. Rick was worried about the boy, so he gave him space and silently gestured for Carl to do the same. Rick just stood back and watched as Tristan closed his eyes and turned away from the father and son duo that were mere feet away, and resumed his gentle swaying with Judith.
Carl looked up to his father, who looked back at his son and both shrugged. They didn't really know what to make of it.
Carl, the protective brother that he was, subtly went over to take a seat at the couch and pretended to be interested with the CD he had picked up before Tristan declined the idea. It was a rouse so he could keep a safe eye on his sister, which made Rick swell with pride. He knew in that instant that if something were to ever happen to him and any of the other adults, if it was just Carl and Judith alone together in the world, his son would take extremely good care of his sister, without hesitation.
Lori would be so proud, too.
That thought popping into his head made Rick sad. He absentmindedly began twirling his wedding ring around his finger, the same he did after Jake had come over to offer him a beer and brought up Rick losing his wife.
Rick didn't think too much on Lori anymore, but when he did, he seemed to touch his ring, as if it was the only way to remember she existed. He used to do it was a way of silently communicating with her when he wished he had her advice on what he should be doing with their kids or when he longed to hear her voice again.
However, it was different for him now.
He loved Lori, still did and always would, but it was akin to holding a flower that had once been so bright and beautiful but had long since withered. If he wanted to preserve it, for memory's sake, he would have to put it away. Playing with dead flowers would make them crumble and fall apart.
Georgie walked through the door then with Carol right behind her. Carol moved toward the sink to putter, while Georgie looked up at Rick with a smile as he looked back at her.
He smiled back.
Nothing more could come from playing with a dead flower.
He would always love how sweet it smelled once upon a time and how beautiful it had been to look at, but he had a vibrant rose now.
Stop focusing on death. Focus on life, his mind was pestering him with. You don't need the ring anymore.
"You okay?" Georgie asked him, placing a hand to his left elbow.
Rick nodded and let his continued smile reassure her. "Yeah, I am."
It was mere seconds after he replied that Tristan turned back around and they could all see his face. He had tears streaming down his face and sobs began to hiccup out from the depths of his throats. Georgie's face immediately changed from contentment to worry as she rushed over to her son. Rick walked up as well and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder as Georgie pulled Judith away. Carl was on his feet straight away, offering to take his sister, who seemed adorably confused in regard to Tristan's crying. Kneeling down in front of her son, Georgie looked up at him and placed her hands on either side of his face and knitted her brow together.
"Honey, what's wrong? You can tell me whatever it is," she insisted in a soothing voice.
Rick cast a glance over to Carl and gestured with a nod of his head for him to take Judith upstairs to give Tristan some privacy to open up to his mother. Carol seemed to catch the drift as well, whether or not Rick actually wanted her to do the same or not. She quickly made herself scarce, following brother and sister upstairs to "putter" elsewhere.
Rick remained though. He felt he should.
He was committed to Georgie now, which meant he was committed to her son as a parent should be. Unless she asked him otherwise, he would stay downstairs with them.
"Tristan, honey, please tell me," Georgie urged, watching her son's face go a shade of pink as he got worked up, while both his chin and bottom lip quivered. "Are you still upset about your dad? I know it's hard. He did bad things, but he was still a good dad and I know you miss him."
Tristan suddenly shook his head and lifted his hand to wipe his tears. "No."
"No?" Georgie was confused. "You don't miss your dad?"
"I miss him, but that's not why I'm sad."
Rick cocked his head to the side and pulled a chair away from the dining table. Sitting down on it, he leaned forward and looked directly at the boy who was pretty much his stepson. "What is it then?"
Tristan looked at Rick, sucked in a few sobs, and then at his mom. He lifted a hand and grabbed at her hair, twirling a ginger lock around his index finger and pouted. "I miss my sister. I miss Avery," the boy admitted. "I don't want her to be dead anymore. I didn't get to say goodbye to her."
Georgie's own eyes began to water; her heart breaking for how strongly she didn't realize her son was feeling in his grief for his sister. Even Rick couldn't help the tears that stung his own eyes. He couldn't imagine how this world felt for a boy his age; to have thought he lost his entire family, and then gone through this world alone, even if he'd had strangers caring for him. How frightening it had to have been, and just when he thought he had his family back, he discovered his sister was killed and his father had basically become a monster; the same monster responsible for the death of his friends and for hurting his mother.
Now Rick was standing in the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee, looking on as Georgie cuddled with her son after she had assured him, as she had before, that his sister Avery was in heaven now and she was happy that he was alive and well. She assured him that even though things were sometimes sad and hard, there was plenty of good, too, in the world for him. He had her. He had Rick. He even had a brother in Carl, something he'd never had before, and he had Judith now as a new little sister. She told Tristan that she knew it wouldn't be the same, but it was a good thing. They had to cherish all the good things and focus on the good things. It was okay to remember the people they loved and lost, and cherish them too, but they couldn't dote on those memories all the time. It would keep them from living life, which was more important.
They had to keep going forward, not backward.
Rick studied the way Georgie's ginger locks seemed the glow as the evening sun found its way through the living room window and bathed her in its light. He studied the way she held her son and hummed some old, familiar melody; the tune vibrating against his skin with her lips pressed to his forehead. He studied the way the world outside stopped existing with her and her son filling the gap in his own family unit. He didn't view Georgie as some spare part or replacement for Lori. She wasn't filling the hole left in his heart when Lori died. Georgie, as well as her son, simply made a place in his heart. It forced the hole left by Lori to shrink in order for her to fit in comfortably.
They helped him heal.
Rick looked back down into his day old cup of coffee and smiled, giving silent thanks for the good things in his life, in a world full of constant bad things.
The sun got lower in the sky, and Rick had gone to take a shift atop the wall.
Down below was a sea of walkers, twenty deep, just as he had stated earlier. They were snarling and growling in their hunger which would never cease. Their decayed bodies twisted and writhed against each other in a sort of orgy of death. The smell was nauseating but standing so much higher above them made it easy to get passed with the occasional breeze blowing by from behind Rick. Plenty of the walkers noticed Rick standing there and were trying in vain to reach for him; clawing at the walkers ahead of them in their relentless attempts or at the metal paneling of the wall if they were close enough to it.
Rick wasn't there to keep an eye on them, though. The wall was strong. It would hold. Keeping virtually still didn't seem to distract the walkers so much either. All he was there to do was look out for the others in case they returned. Or if there was some sort of sign in the distance.
He was wondering how exactly the others would get in when they returned.
If they returned.
Rick winced at his own inner monologue.
He couldn't think like that.
He knew hoping his friends were alive and coming back didn't make them come back, but thinking they were dead and never coming back didn't exactly do any good.
"Hey, dad?"
Rick turned and looked down the ladder, where he saw Carl standing at the bottom, staring up.
"Can I come up?"
Rick nodded and gestured for his son to join him. After Carl had finished his ascent and took his place beside him, Rick looked back toward the road leading to Alexandria. "Got something on your mind?"
Carl nodded. "I have a lot of things on my mind."
"Enid?" Rick smirked. He wasn't stupid. The way his son was concerned about the girl and from what he had managed to witness of his son's interaction with the girl, he knew Carl had, at least, a crush on her.
"Yeah, she's one of the things."
"I'm sure she's alright. I talked to Aaron about who she was just after we got here. I was wondering who her parents were, and he told me she came here alone. She'd shown up at the gate one day, eight months ago, covered in dirt and old blood. She'd been alone by herself for a long while after losing her parents. She survived in that world the same as us by sheer force of will. I'm sure she can do it again," Rick spoke, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "When we figure out a way to get those walkers away from the walls and can get safely outside, we try looking for her, okay? We will."
Carl looked up at his dad, squinting from the sun, and nodded once more. "Okay."
Narrowing his gaze, Rick gave Carl's shoulder a squeeze. "What else is on your mind?"
The teenager hesitated. "I…I don't think you'll like what I gotta say."
"Try me."
"Well," Carl stalled. "I don't think Tristan is okay."
Rick tilted his head slightly to the left and shrugged. "He's had a tough time. He's sad about Jake and his sister. He misses them," he assured. "He'll come 'round soon enough. He's got his mother and us, and our friends there for him."
Carl shook his head. "That's not really what I mean."
A ping of concern entered Rick's mind. He'd learned to trust his son's instincts about things. If something wasn't sitting right with Carl, then it didn't sit right with him, and vice versa. "Then what do you mean?"
Shoving his hands into his pants pockets, Carl bit his bottom lip. He was trying to figure out exactly how to word what he wanted to say. "I think he was out there too long and saw too many bad things. I think the world out there changed him the way it changed Jake." Carl looked up at his father and saw the instant look of conflict on his face. "I'm not saying that's what's happened, but it's what I think."
"What makes you think that, though? There has to be a reason?" Rick prodded. "What reason could Tristan have given you to feel doubtful about him?"
"Remember back at the prison when all those walkers were always at the fence, just before the sickness came?"
Rick nodded in confirmation. "Yeah."
"You remember Lizzie, right?"
"I do."
"She used to name the walkers. She would play with them through the fence like they were regular people and not dead. She could function, but she wasn't functioning right. The way she saw the world was messed up." Carl frowned and peered downward at the plethora of walkers. "She wasn't right in the head. She might've been fine before the world we knew ended, but this world messed her up. I think this world's messed Tristan up."
Rick licked at his bottom lip and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "But what makes you think he's not alright up here?" he questioned, tapping the side of his head with his index finger. "There has to be a specific reason. Has he done or said anything concerning to you recently?"
Carl half shrugged, and half nodded. "Yeah, sort of."
"Tell me."
"The day after you went off on the people here, after you came home and you had me go next door with Tristan and Judith before the meeting that night…he said something that I didn't really thing much on at first. He asked me about what it was like out there," Carl said, gesturing toward the road, but indicating the outside world in general. "He asked if I knew how to shoot guns and if I ever had to kill people."
Furrowing his brow, Rick looked down at his hands for a moment and then back to his son. "What did you tell him?"
"I told him I did know how to shoot, but I only ever shot my gun to protect myself or other people. Then, to make conversation, I asked him if he ever learned how to shoot when he was traveling with those people he'd been with."
"What did he say?"
"He said yes. He said Melissa, the woman who got him away from the house, had a gun. He had asked her if he could try using it, and she told him no, but gave him a knife instead to protect himself with." Carl shifted around, looking up at his dad. "He said it made him angry and he would watch her sleep sometimes. Then one night she caught him playing with the gun and she snatched it away and scolded him. He said he got angry at her and wished she'd died with everyone else in the house. He didn't say anything else about it after that because Rosita called us into the kitchen to have something to eat."
"Is there anything else he's said or done to make you think he's not alright?"
"He draws pictures. Some he gives to the others and they post them on the fridges. Normal pictures of cars and people smiling and stuff like that. But there are other pictures I walked in on him drawing that he hides away. I went snooping the other day and found them. He draws walkers eating people and there's a picture of himself holding a gun shooting Georgie in the face. He even drew her brain on the ground and a walker eating it."
Rick's stomach twisted in knots at this unsettling information. "Well, maybe it's just his way of venting. It doesn't actually mean he wants to shoot his mother in the head and kill her." At least, that's what Rick hoped. Tristan was such a sweet, quiet boy. How could there be an ounce of malice in him? "He's been through a lot. He's just trying to process it the best way his nine-year-old mind can."
Carl shook his head, unconvinced. "Today he told me he killed Melissa. He said when those walkers were approaching him and her, he took her gun to protect them because she had still been asleep but he'd been awake. I know she got bit at some point and told Tristan to run away and hide somewhere or whatever. That's what you told me that he said. But he told me he didn't run away because she told him to. He said the walkers came, and he took her gun, but instead of shooting at them, he pointed it at her head and pulled shot her in the chest. He said he watched her bleed and she woke screaming in pain, asking him why. He grabbed his knife and ran away then, leaving the walkers to eat her. I asked him if he felt bad about what he did."
Rick was unsure if he wanted to know the answer, but he pressed onward anyway. "What did he say?"
"No," Carl replied bluntly. "He said he didn't care about Melissa. He said he thought she was stupid and bossy. But that's not the worse part."
"There's something worse than all that?"
"Tristan said after we got here and Georgie came to live with him and his dad, she let him sleep in her bed with him. He said he woke up during the night a few times and would watch her sleep or just walk around the room. He said he found her knife and held it to her head and wondered what would happened if he shoved it in her eye while she slept."
"What?" Rick was panicked now and his voice was harsh from his concern.
"He said he couldn't do it, because then it would mean he'd have to be alone with his dad again."
"That's his only reason for not killing his mother in her sleep?"
Carl shrugged. "I hope not." He took his hands out of his pockets and mirrored his father by shifting his weight around and leaning on the same leg. "I planned on telling you as soon as you came home, but then the Wolves attacked and then the others started making their way back home. Then you and Georgie came back and Enid was gone and what Tristan said kinda just took a backseat. When I went ahead to the meeting earlier with Carol, I thought maybe you and Georgie would bring Tristan and Judith with you. I didn't know you'd leave him alone with her. I don't want him alone with her, dad. I don't trust him alone with her."
Rick began processing all this information and nodded slowly; a grave look taking up residence on his face. "I'm gonna have to talk to Georgie about this. I don't know if she'll want to hear it or even believe me."
"I'm sorry," Carl replied, letting his shoulders slouch. "I know Georgie makes you happy and that you love her. I know you wouldn't want to upset her like this. But she deserves to know, dad."
"Yeah, I know. And you don't have to be sorry," Rick insisted. He placed his hand on top of his son's head and brushed some of his hair back. "I want to thank you for telling me."
Carl shrugged it off. "You deserved to know, too. I don't want you to wake up in the middle of the night to find Tristan standing over Georgie holding a gun and you being unprepared for what he might do. I don't want you to lose someone else you love."
Rick dropped his hand and looked down at the floor of the scaffold they were standing together on. He nodded in appreciation to his son's comment and exhaled a steadying breath. "Are you okay with me and Georgie being together? I know I haven't had a proper sit down with you to talk about it."
"Mom's gone," Carl remarked simply. "I know you loved her, but you shouldn't be alone forever. And I like Georgie. If the two of you are happy together, it's not really my place to complain about it. Not that I would, I mean. I know she's not replacing mom, but she's a good fit in our lives. Plus, Judy loves her and Judy's a good judge of people, I think."
Rick smirked but it was half-hearted; only because what Carl had told him about Tristan was still weighing to freshly on his mind. "Yeah, Judy definitely is," he agreed. "And I do love Georgie and she does make me happy. I was in a bad place for a long time after your mother. I know I wasn't the father I should've been for you or your sister afterward. I didn't handle things the right way, and I know I tend to leave to go do crazy shit like what we were trying to do today. I put myself in predicaments like that sometimes, but I only do it for you and your sister; to make sure you're safe."
"I know. It's okay."
"It's really not." Rick shook his head and looked out at the walkers on the other side of the wall again. "Once we get this taken care of, I promise to stay home more. My problem is I don't know how to delegate well. I need to do everything myself and can't trust others enough to do what needs to be done, the way I think it should be done."
"You're stubborn."
Rick chuckled. "Yeah, I really am."
"Mom used to say I was stubborn like you."
"Did she now?"
"Yeah," Carl nodded. "I think it's okay to be stubborn. And it's okay if you need to go away to take care of things. You're the leader and people look to you. I get that now. I didn't always, but I now I do. And I'm here when you're not. I can help protect this place from inside when you do it from outside, like a team. Maybe someday we'll switch places, and I'll be the one who goes on the runs and leads herds away and you can stay home and watch Judith."
Rick smirked at the thought. "Maybe someday. Just not anytime soon, if you don't mind." Lifting his hand back up, he ruffled his son's hair. "I know I told you you're a man now, but if you want to stay a kid a while longer, I wouldn't mind it."
Carl nodded and smirked, looking out upon the walkers and the charred houses, one of which he had first glimpsed Enid. "When are you going to talk to Georgie about Tristan?"
Letting out a deep sigh, Rick considered his options. So much had gone on that day. He was physically and mentally wiped and he knew Georgie was, too. He'd left her alone in the house, still cuddling her son on the couch. Though, she wasn't completely alone. Carol was there to help look after Judith while Georgie continued to console Tristan. He didn't think he had to worry about their safety right away, but he knew he couldn't put the topic off too long. Georgie deserved to know, and whatever she decided to do with the information was up to her. He couldn't force her hand or make a decision. When it came down to it, no matter the place Rick took up in her life, Tristan was Georgie's child, and not his.
"Soon," he answered his own son. "Maybe tonight. I dunno. A lot's happened today and I don't necessarily wanna add to it." Casting a glance at Carl, he placed his hands on his hips and leaned forward a smidgen. "You think things will be okay if I put it off until tomorrow?"
Carl took a moment to respond, but then finally nodded, meeting his father's gaze halfway. "Yeah, I think so." Then he added, "I'd like to sleep in Judith's room tonight. I'm not exactly feeling like sharing with Tristan, if that's okay."
Rick nodded. "Yeah, that's fine."
"I'm gonna lock the door from the inside, too."
"I don't think you need to go that far. I don't feel like Tristan would hurt Judith," Rick commented. "The way he was holding her earlier, he seemed as protective of her as you are. I think no matter where he is mentally, he's still just a boy who truly misses his little sister and sees Judy as a replacement for what he's lost."
"I'd sleep easier, though."
Rick nodded, empathizing with his son's worries. "Alright. If it makes you feel safer."
"It would."
"Okay then." As both father and son glanced back out toward the road outside the walled community, Rick turned his body more toward his son. "Wanna take watch for a while?"
Carl smirked. "Yeah," he nodded.
Removing his Colt from his holster, Rick handed it over. "Here."
"Your gun?"
"Keep it as safe as you would your sister."
"I will."
"Bring it right back to me when Tobin relieves you. He's got next watch."
"Okay."
Patting his son on the back, Rick moved to step behind him and head for the ladder, but he paused for a moment. Turning slightly, he pulled Carl slightly toward him and kissed the top of his head. "I love you."
Carl smiled, but tried to play it cool. "Love ya too, dad."
Letting go, Rick began his careful descent down the ladder without another word; only with the knowledge that he had a great kid who he could trust with anyone's life.
"Did she really?"
"Yeah, Barbara noticed her at the window and screamed. I was nearby; everyone else was just standing around with their thumbs up their asses."
Michonne, Carol and Georgie were standing around the kitchen island as they each contributed to preparing dinner. Michonne was mixing a bowl of instant mashed potatoes, Carol attempting some sort of pasta dish using a can of tomato paste, and Georgie was making some sort of puree involving powdered milk, a bit of honey and chickpeas from can she was mashing the shit out of with a mortar and pestle. The latter wasn't for everyone else, though. It was so baby food for Judith to go along with their depleting supply of pre-jarred baby food they had for her.
The three women were currently discussing the apparent suicide of Betsy, David's wife.
"You took care of it, right?" Carol questioned.
"Someone had to," Michonne confirmed, without having to spell it out.
"Wait, who's Barbara again?" Georgie wondered, looking up from the mortar and pestle.
"Tobin's wife."
"Oh." Georgie made a face. "Yeah, I think I'd have to see her face to remember which one she is."
"Straight red hair. Wears it with a headband," Carol clarified.
"Oh."
"I didn't think she'd take her own life after I told her about David not making it," Michonne continued. "I told her how all he thought about was getting home to her and how much he loved her. I didn't think she'd go home and slit her wrists open."
All three women frowned.
"They were each other's world," Georgie shrugged. "With everything going on and losing the one person that mattered to her in it, she didn't see the point of going on anymore. I can understand that. I think we'd all be lying to ourselves if we said the idea never crossed our minds before. If I lost Tristan or Rick's kids, or—"
"Or Rick," Carol cut in, impishly.
Georgie snickered. "I was getting there," she assured, tossing a whole chickpea at the grey-haired woman's chest. "If I lost them or any of you, if it was just me again here within these walls or outside them, I think taking my own life would be an option I would reconsider."
"Reconsider?" Michonne queried, casting Georgie a side glance as she popped a whole chickpea into her mouth.
"Yeah." When she noticed Michonne was staring at her, she looked back up and realized she should offer up a little nugget of insight. "A few times, while on the road, when I was by myself the thought had come to mind; before I found my first group, after I lost my second group, which was just a few days before Carol found me, and even as recent as back in Greensboro. I didn't actually consider it that last time. The thought had just come to mind when I thought Tristan was dead. Rick and I weren't exactly where we are now. It would've been easier than if I'd just given up. But I had become so invested in Judith and Carl's lives, that they were enough to keep me going."
"And then, of course, Rick happened," Carol remarked, trying to make some light of the conversation again.
Georgie smiled. "Yeah, he did."
"When did you know?" Michonne asked.
"Know what? That I wanted to consider suicide or that I didn't?"
"No, neither. I mean about Rick. When did you know you loved him? Was there a light switch moment?"
Georgie shrugged. "Well, I think there were moments at Gabriel's church where I was beginning to appreciate the way he looked. I won't lie and say I wasn't attracted to him from pretty much the get go. But love? I feel like it was gradual. I mean, it's not like we've known each other very long, but these days months are like years, you know." Biting her bottom lip, Georgie spooned the mashed chickpeas into a small bowl. "But the moment I knew he loved me is what solidified it for me, too."
"Which was when?"
"In that building where we all reconvened, where Eric was laid up with his sprained ankle," Georgie explained. "Rick was angry at Aaron for how he'd kicked the door open, and how I'd gotten that large bruise on my stomach. He was laying into Aaron about being responsible for me getting hurt, about how the bruise could be possible internal bleeding and then he blurted about not wanting to lose another woman he loved. I questioned him about it later when we slept in the RV. I told him if it was just a mistake, a slip of the tongue, I would understand, but he said he meant it. We didn't actually say the words until our first day here, though."
Squirting some honey into the bowl, Georgie began to mix the ingredients. As she then spooned it into a second bowl full of some powdered milk, she realized both women were looking at her so she looked back up and between them.
"Who said the words first?" Carol wondered.
Georgie knitted her brow together. "Why do you two wanna know these details all the sudden?"
"Because today is turned out pretty shitty and we need something to distract us from not worry about the others not being back," Michonne offered up, sticking her finger into Georgie's homemade baby food to taste test it. "Needs more honey, by the way," she added pointing at the bear-shaped squeeze bottle.
"Fair enough," Georgie shrugged. She nodded in the direction of the stairwell. "We were joking around, right after I'd cut his hair for him. He ended up carrying me up the stairs like I was some bride. He kissed me on the way up and I said the words first. Then he set me down when we reached the top step and he said the words back." Warmth began to reach her face as she realized recalling the memory was making her blush. She was trying not to smile like some teenager gossiping with her besties about the cutest boy in school. "The way he looked at me when he said it, the way he smiled…I felt…I felt so beautiful."
"Why do I have the sudden urge to watch The Notebook?" Michonne joked.
"Oh, I loved that movie," Carol smirked. "Ryan Gosling…mmm."
All three women began to chuckle. After the day they'd all had, it was nice to find something to laugh about, that brought smiles to their faces. It was night to shine some light into the dark.
"So, tell us," Carol continued, reaching across to taste test the baby food, too. She hesitated for a moment as she wrapped her lips around her finger and considered the flavors mingling on her tongue. "I think it's enough honey. Any more and it might be too sweet."
"Nah," Michonne parried.
Georgie tried some as well. She scrunched up her nose and shrugged. "Actually, I think could use more chickpeas to thicken it up."
"Anyway," Carol spoke. "Tell us something."
"What?" Georgie asked, raising an eyebrow.
Carol look mischievously over at Michonne, and then back at Georgie. "When was the first time you two had sex?"
"What? No, I'm not telling you that."
"I'm pretty sure I already know, anyway."
"It was the night of Deanna's party, wasn't it?" Michonne questioned, although it was more rhetorical. When Georgie looked right at her, she shrugged. "You two went missing after Jake left with Tristan."
Georgie blushed again. "I can neither confirm nor deny those accusations."
"It was that night," Michonne snickered, very sure of herself. "Because now that I remember it, Rick seemed less tightly wound the next day."
As Michonne and Carol giggled, causing Georgie to blush even more and shake her head to avoid smiling like a schoolgirl, the front door clicked open and Rick stepped inside. He stopped mid step and seemed confused when they turned around to look back at him and did their best to not laugh their asses off in his face; well, not Georgie so much, who was failing miserably at hiding how pink her cheeks were.
"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, a smirk toying at the corners of his mouth.
"Just girl talk," Carol answered, not reining in her smile in the slightest.
"Never mind; I don't wanna know."
Rick cast a look over at Georgie that perplexed her a little. He seemed to have something a bit serious on his mind which got hers reeling with questions.
"Everything alright?" she asked knowingly.
"For now, yeah," he replied vaguely.
Michonne and Carol's teasing demeanor began to fade and their focus returned strictly to that of preparing dinner. Georgie watched as Rick stepped into the living room, peering around for something or someone.
"Alright, now I'm curious," Michonne stated. "What's up?"
"Just, uh…checking for something."
"That wasn't vague at all," Carol retorted.
Rick looked over at the grey-haired woman and shrugged. After a few seconds, he let his blue eyes wander back to Georgie and gave her a nod of his head. "Where's the kids?"
"Judith's taking a nap before dinner and Tristan's coloring in his and Carl's room."
Rick's jaw clenched slightly and he nodded. "Alright." But he didn't seem alright. "Carl should be back home in a little while. He took over watch for me. Have him set the table or something when he returns. I'm gonna grab a shower before then."
"Georgie, you could use a shower, too," Carol stated with a wink.
"Would you stop it already," Georgie remarked, flicking another chickpea in the woman's direction.
"Clearly I missed something important being discussed and I'm okay with that," Rick commented as he ducked out of the kitchen. The sound of his footsteps on the stairs were light and quick, as if he was taking them two at a time to get to the second floor as quickly as possible.
"No sense in wasting hot water on two showers," Michonne offered up, adding to the continued banter. "This is still the apocalypse. We gotta conserve as much as we can."
"I'm trying to make baby food here."
Michonne responded by practically hip checking her. "I can finish it. The mashed potatoes are done anyway."
Hesitating, Georgie looked between and then let her shoulders drop in defeat. "Well, I could use a shower to wash all this sweat, blood and dirt off me. And you two seriously need to get your minds out of the gutter because showering is the only thing that's gonna happen."
"If you say so," Carol muttered.
"Carol, I love you; you're my best friend, but I will not hesitate to throw you over the wall to those walkers."
Carol simply responded by smiling to herself.
With a roll of her eyes and a slight huff of breath, Georgie wiped her hands on her pants and exited the kitchen.
Just as Georgie had insisted, nothing had happened in the bathroom between her and Rick. His mind seemed a little bit elsewhere and she was tired. They still shared the shower, regardless. They merely chose to keep their hands to themselves and simply clean up. Rick had finished first, having less hair on his head than she did to wash. Plus, he had gotten in before she did.
Rick had retreated into their bedroom, wearing only a towel around his waist. He threw on a pair of plain, denim jeans to wear for the meantime because he planned on tossing his usual black jeans into the wash so he could wear them again the following day, which he usually did every night. They were a sort of comfort to him. He didn't care how ill-fitting they were on him now or how many holes were developing in them. Rick would probably wear them until the material disintegrated and they fell off him.
Georgie had appeared a couple minutes later in the bedroom with a towel wrapped around her body and her wet hair hanging damp around her shoulders and down her back. She dropped her dirty clothes into a pile with his and padded over to the dresser to pull out something clean to wear; choosing those black yoga pants she'd worn after her first shower in Alexandria, along with a loose, black tee.
Rick was sitting on the bed, still only in his jeans, when Georgie caught him staring at her.
"Penny for your thoughts, Rick?"
Looking contemplative, he shook his head. "It can wait till tomorrow."
"Well, that doesn't put me at ease."
"Sorry. It's just…a lot's happened today."
"Yeah."
"It was nice coming home and seeing you three laughing. We need as much of that as we can get."
Georgie nodded, stepping up to him. "Yeah, we do," she agreed. Tossing her clean clothes down onto the bed beside him, she cupped his face in her hands and smiled. "Everything's gonna work out. I mean, it has to."
Rick nodded back. "I hope so."
Leaning down, Georgie pressed her lips to his. "So do I."
Rick and Georgie had gotten dressed, their group, as splintered as it was, gathered in the main house to sit down for a quiet meal together. There wasn't much in the way of conversation because everyone was still so worried about the fates of Glenn, Daryl, Abraham and Sasha. Maggie was the most distant and for good reason. Glenn was her husband after all, and earlier that afternoon Glenn and Nicholas' names had been added the list of names on the wall of those who had died. Assuming the former was dead was like a kick to the face for their family, considering they had no way of knowing either way just yet if Glenn was in fact dead or not.
Tara had invited Denise over to eat with them, knowing the community's only medic would end up eating alone in her apartment or not eating at all while she looked after Scott in the Infirmary. Denise didn't stay too long after she was finished with her meal, though; insisting she needed to check on how Scott was doing, so Tara offered to walk with her. Carl was holding Judith in his lap, feeding her scoops of the baby food concoction Georgie had made and that the little girl seemed to enjoy, while he simultaneously was feeding himself. Tristan sat across from Carl, next to his mother, prodding his food with his fork and eventually claimed he wasn't hungry, and if he could be excused. Georgie consented and allowed her son to leave the table and head upstairs to his room, most likely to play. Morgan, Carol, Michonne, Rosita, Eugene and Gabriel were seated around the living room, silently eating.
Because of the walkers outside the walls, and now that night had fallen, the only lights on inside the house were a few candles. The shades were drawn just in case and what conversation was had was kept low.
Georgie had gotten up and found some cling wrap to cover Tristan's plate so she could place it in the fridge to save it for later. There was no wasting food in the world now. If he didn't finish it for lunch the next day, someone would. While she began cleaning up some of the dishes, Rick got up and whispered something to Carl and then walked over to Georgie with his own plate in hand, setting it in the sink. When he leaned in and kissed her cheek, it startled her, but in a pleasant way.
Turning to face him, Georgie smiled. "I'm glad Judith liked the food I made."
"What's in it anyway?"
"Mashed chickpeas, powdered milk and honey."
Rick smirked. "Martha Stewart, eat your heart out."
"She probably has literally eaten someone's heart out," Georgie teased. "Martha Stewart has probably, literally died up in Connecticut, or wherever she lived, and came back as a walker and has eaten people's hearts out of their chests."
"Lori used to buy her magazines and watch her show," he informed. "It's kind of ironic that they were called Martha Stewart Living, huh?"
Georgie chuckled. "Yeah," she nodded. "Now it's just Martha Stewart Decaying."
Rick snickered at the bad pun, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Brushing at some of her ginger locks, he brought his lips to her cheek again. "I'm gonna take a walk. Check the perimeter."
"Okay."
"Hold the fort while I'm gone," he muttered in a slightly teasing tone.
"Aye aye, Captain," she answered back.
After Rick left, Maggie did, too. No one knew where she was going and nobody asked. It was possible she was just going to take a walk as well, to simply clear her head. Eugene went next door to the second house with Rosita and Gabriel. Carol help cleaning up the dishes while Morgan shot her a rather judgmental look and went outside to get some air. Michonne remained in the living room, taking Judith from Carl, but the teen stayed close to his baby sister. Everyone seemed to find something to keep themselves busy and take their minds off the worry and doubt for their friends' fates that was hanging heavy in the air.
About an hour later, mostly everyone had called it a night. Georgie was the last one downstairs. She was waiting for Rick to return before she blew out the candles lying lit around the kitchen, dining and living spaces.
When she heard his boots coming up the steps to the porch, Georgie greeted him at the door and extinguished the flame of the last candle, which sat upon the dining table.
"You have blood on your shirt," she noticed, grabbing at the bottom of it.
Rick looked down and shrugged. "Just a little."
"What happened?"
"One of the Wolves that Carol had shot and lost track of, he must've hidden under one of the houses and died. He turned and came after Deanna. She was stabbing the hell out of his chest with a broken bottle, working through some issues, I guess. I ran over and killed it."
"Is she okay?"
Rick nodded. "I think she will be. Eventually," he replied as she ushered him into the laundry room. "She pretty much told me to take over leading this place. I told her the people needed her to lead them, and she said they needed me instead."
"You're exactly who these people need," Georgie remarked, pulling his shirt up to get it off him. "I'm glad she can see that now. I'm just sorry about everything that had to happen for her to see it."
"Yeah," he agreed, watching as she opened the washer and tossed the shirt in with the pile of dirty clothes in a basket on the floor waiting to get washed; his black jeans among them.
While Georgie began to pour a small capful of detergent into the machine with the clothes, and then close the lid, Rick reached across to turned the machine on for her after she set the dial for the type of wash and time. The two of them looked and smiled affectionately at each other. Taking a step closer to her to close the gap between their bodies, Rick placed and arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug.
"I love you," he muttered.
Georgie melted against him as if she was hearing those words for the first time again. "I love you, too," she cooed into his neck. When she turned her face upward more, she placed a kiss onto his stubbly jaw and then brought her hands up to rest upon his bare chest.
The small hum of contentment it elicited out of him brought a grin to her face as she pulled back and stepped away from him. At first, he seemed confused, and then just curious as he turned and watched her shut the laundry room door and set it on lock.
As she walked back over to him, she pulled her shirt up over her head and tossed it to the floor and then began to slip out of her yoga pants. His eyes never left her, especially not when she stepped in front of him and jumped up to sit on the rumbling washer. Lifting her legs up, she coaxed him over to her by curling her toes into the waistband of his jeans.
He had caught her drift easily enough.
Reaching forward, Rick placed his hands on her hips and pulled her panties off her ass and then slid them down her legs only to drop them on the floor with her other clothes. He then gripped her thighs tightly in his hands and coaxed her closer to the edge of the washer before unzipping his pants and shoving them off his hips until they pooled at his ankles.
Claiming her lips with his, neither one bothered with any foreplay as Rick positioned himself at her entrance and thrust right into her in time with the thumping of the machine underneath her; the vibrations easily helping their situation along.
Wrapping her legs around his waist to take him all the way in, Georgie ran her fingers up through his hair which was already starting to get long again. His curls, like hers, were soft from being washed and his skin smelled so good from their earlier shower.
He felt so good.
"I love you," she panted as he continued to bury himself to pump deeply in and out of her while gripping her ass in his strong, calloused hands.
"I love you, too," he reciprocated. Even though she knew he meant it, he sounded like he was a million miles away.
"Are you sure you don't want to tell me what's wrong?" Georgie asked just as he swiveled his hips in such a way to cause her breath to hitch and get her to start seeing stars.
"I'm sure," he insisted, burying his face into her shoulder and kissing her neck. "Let's end tonight on something good. Tomorrow's another day."
