"Lana, get down!" he instructed her, for the Saviours couldn't know she was with them. "Get down!"

A shot was fired, the driver's side mirror shot clean off. "Hands up!" someone shouted at them. "All of you, now!"

While Rick and Rosita did as instructed, in the back seat Daryl lunged towards Lana, seizing her by the collar and wrenching her down and out of sight, but by now it was already far too late. With his hands in the air and twenty guns trained on them, Rick knew better than to try and fight, and so there was nothing he could do but allow the first Saviour to open the driver's door and wrench him out.

Kneeling on the ground with his hands in the air, Rick was cooperative as Rosita was brought around and shoved down beside him, her hands too raised into the air. Behind them there was a commotion from within the car, Daryl having hit the interior locks before lunging at Lana, and whatever he was doing incited the Saviours. A shot was fired, Lana screaming as she was showered with glass, then both doors were opened and they were wrestled out to the ground. Dragged by her coat she fell heavily onto the ground, yelling out as she started fighting back. Scrambling to her feet she swung at one of the Saviours and landed a heavy punch to their face, but a split second later they overpowered her and wrestled her back to the ground.

"Don't fuckin' touch her!"

Out of sight Daryl too was fighting, but despite his angry growl there was a heavy thud as he was shoved against the car, and Rick silently implored him to stop. As he waited he glanced to his right at Rosita, sharing her scowl before looking back down the road, glad to see no sign of the military truck in the distance. Seconds later Lana was brought over and shoved down to the ground, allowing Rick a brief glimpse of the bright red blood smeared across her face, noticing the distinct pattern that looked like a handprint. She was turning onto her front and keeping her head down, allowing her blood stained hair to fall across her face. She was hiding her identity, Daryl having smeared her face with blood to obscure as much of her features as he could.

There was another scuffle as Daryl was brought around, but he was marginally more cooperative now, and when he was shoved down and told to put his hands up he did as he was told. Making eye contact with him Rick shared a brief nod, wordlessly telling him that they would be okay, they would make it out of this alive. Around them the Saviours were falling into a line and flexing their grips on their weapons, trying to intimidate them. Not letting them get to him, Rick raised his head just enough to look at each of them, counting fifteen all together. Each of them were armed, wearing heavy shoes and clothing that would protect them not only from the cold weather, but also the Walkers they were sure to encounter.

"All of them out," the man in charge instructed, clicking his fingers at two men and pointing to the car. "All of them."

Clenching his jaw so that he didn't say something stupid, Rick watched in disgust as two of them reached into the back of the car and dragged Denise out. There was a thud as they dropped her to the ground on the other side of the car, and then the awful sound of denim on the asphalt as they dragged her around. Her head was lolling back, her long pony tail caught up beneath her, and then they let her go once she was beside Daryl. Rick wanted to look away, to not torture himself with the sight of her body treated with such disregard, but he forced himself to look. Her eyes were still open in a blank stare, her glasses askew on her face reminding him how she used to push them up her nose when she was nervous. This woman had saved his son's life, had brought him back from the brink of death…and there was nothing he could do for her.

"You got something to say to me?" the one in charge began, starting forward and coming to stop in front of Daryl.

There was silence, Daryl slowly raising his head and look up at the man. He too doing the same Rick cringed when he saw the horrific scars on his face, the mottled skin stretching the entirety of his left hand side features. But it wasn't until he recognised the weapon he carried in his hands that he made the connection, that he realised this had to be Dwight. In his hands was Daryl's old crossbow, the one he had carried since the very beginning, the one Carrie had used to beat Pete to death with. This man was the defector that had been fleeing the Saviours the day they evacuated the herd from the quarry, he and his girlfriend had stolen Daryl's bike and left him…yet despite everything he was fleeing from he had returned to the Saviours.

"You gonna clear the air?" Dwight badgered, trying to incite a reaction. "Step up on that high horse?"

Still there was silence, Daryl staring up at him with narrowed eyes. Between them Lana leant forward with her hands on the road, head bowed and her hair forming a curtain around her face. She and Dwight had known one another back at the Sanctuary, if she was recognised by him then this was all going to be over. They'd be killed, and the Saviours would step up their search for Alexandria even harder. In a moment of self-doubt, Rick knew that Vetor had been right…it was dangerous for Lana to be with them.

Dwight was still sneering down at Daryl. "No. You don't talk much."

Taking a few steps back he gestured the others forward, and in seconds they were disarmed, one of the Saviours reaching down by Rick's hip and taking his Colt from the holster. Cooperating for now they allowed themselves to be disarmed, and on the pretence of comforting Lana he reached over and placed his hand on top of hers. He waited until the Saviour disarming her had stepped away, and then in a low murmur he told her "Don't say a word, not one." Her Australian accent was too noticeable, it would identify her in a heartbeat.

"What was that?" Dwight questioned, moving towards Rick now. "What did you say to her?"

Daryl intervened, taking the attention away from Lana. "I should'a done it," he growled lowly.

It seemed to get Dwight's attention, the mere comment a refusal from them to participate in his standover. "Hey, what's that?" he asked, turning to him instead. "Seriously. I didn't catch what you said."

"I should'a killed yah."

Dwight stared at him for a moment, holding his gaze. "Yeah, you probably should have," he said quietly. "So here we are. It kind of begs the question, right? Who brought this on who?"

As another pause came to pass Rick made a point of looking around at each of the Saviours again, but he didn't dare look back down the road they had come. With so many of them watching he couldn't afford to double check that Carl was still staying back, he couldn't alert them to the fact they had more people with them. A quick check of what they had on their person indicated they had only one handheld radio among them…it was likely they hadn't been listening in, just lying in wait instead.

"Everyone stand up," Dwight instructed, brandishing Daryl's crossbow at them. "I want to take a look at you all."

Playing along until the time was right, Rick cooperatively began getting to his feet, but not before placing a gentle hand on the back of Lana's neck, a reminder for her to keep her head down. Daryl and Rosita obeyed too, but Lana was the slowest of them, gingerly getting to her feet and then stopping halfway erect. Her right hand was injured, blood dropping down her fingers and onto the road below, but she kept her head down and her shoulders hunched forward. Rick couldn't tell if her trembling body was an act or genuine fear…it could be either given she was now facing the history she had tried to run from.

"You too," Dwight instructed her, sounding impatient. "Stand up."

"Leave 'er," Daryl said sharply, and he took a swift step to move in front of her. "She's fuckin' pregnant."

At this Dwight paused, but he didn't soften. "I don't care. Stand up, n-."

"What do you want?" Rosita asked, interrupting him.

In an instant Dwight turned his attention from Lana to Rosita, telling them something all very important - he could be distracted with only a little effort. "Oh, I'm sorry darlin', I didn't catch your name? I'm D," he introduced himself, smirking at her. "Or Dwight, you can call me either. So…what's your name?"

She glared at him, but stood her ground. "Rosita," she answered sharply. "What do you want?"

"Well, Rosita. It's not about what I want, it's what you and Daryl are going to do. You're going to let us into your little complex, it looks like it's just beautiful in there," he smiled, goading her. "And then you're going to let us take whatever and whoever we want. Or, we'll blow her brains out," he threatened, gesturing to Lana. "And then yours, and then his…and then Daryl's. I hope it doesn't come to that."

There was silence now, none of them having anything worth saying in response. Everything that had played out so far was exactly what Richard had prepared them for. A surprise ambush, being lined up on their knees, threatened with death…except Negan, except the baseball bat. Where was all that? Was he coming at all, or was this all he had sent to attack Alexandria? But in spite of the situation they faced Rick felt himself regaining an element of control, having noticed a small amount of movement in the tree line behind the Saviours, movement he wouldn't have noticed had he not been meant to. They got there quickly, Christ his people were good…

"Really, no one else has to die," Dwight insisted. "We just try to start with one. You know, maximum impact to get our point across. So what's it going to be?"

"We're not taking you anywhere," Rick decided, speaking directly to Dwight for the first time.

To his satisfaction this utterance of defiance bothered Dwight, making his mouth twitch a little. "What was that?"

"I said, we're not taking you anywhere."

At this Dwight managed a smirk, and he looked at him in amusement before turning to the other Saviours. "Did you hear that? He's not taking us anywhere." There was a murmur of laughter now, each of the Saviours readjusting their weapons and shifting their weight between their feet. When Dwight turned back to him he withdrew his gun from the holster on the front of his belt, and then he raised it to Lana. "You're going to take me to your place, or I'll shoot her. It's really that simple."

Rick shook his head, noting that his finger wasn't yet on the trigger. "You might have fired the first shots…but I guarantee I will fire the last."

Dwight raised his eyebrows at him. "You'll fire the last shots…with all your guns?" he asked mockingly, looking him up and down.

"This is how it's going to be," he began confidently, though he was anything but. "I'm going to make you this offer once, and once only. Walk away now with all your people…or you won't be walking anywhere ever again." He paused, allowing Dwight to continue sneering at him. "Think real hard about your answer."

Dwight was having none of it, and so he made a point of moving his finger to the trigger now, making sure Rick saw him doing it. "You're a tough guy, right? You've got it all figured out….you won't be for long."

His finger had barely touched the trigger when he dropped the gun with a yelp of pain, followed by the high pitched whizz of a round and the low echo of a rifle and suppressor. Dwight howled as he clenched his hand to the top of his forearm from which a stream of red blood erupted, and as he stumbled backwards the group of Saviour's around him raised their weapons in response.

"That was your warning," Rick said loudly, hoping that Abraham and Sasha would be able to hear him. "Walk away now, while you still can."

"Find them!" Dwight yelled in outrage, pointing his bloodied arm at three of the Saviours. As they fell back and started off in the direction the shot had come from Dwight scrambled to collect himself, his fingers slipping as he brought the crossbow back into his hands, but when a round hit the road inches from his foot he leapt back again.

"She didn't miss," Rick warned him. Beside him Lana was lowering herself to the ground, staying out of the firing line as she reached for the gun Dwight had dropped. As she got back to her feet she passed it to Daryl on her left, still trying to hide her face.

"Change o' heart, you prick?" Daryl growled, pointing the gun at him.

A loud shot was fired, this one from Abraham in a different direction, and one of the Saviours fell to the ground yelling, dropping his weapons and clutching the back of his leg. From there things seemed to go downhill, another of the Saviour's dropping their weapon to come to the man's aid, while those who had headed off looking for Sasha started to fall back, unsure of what to do. While he watched them unravelling Rick turned to his right at the familiar sound of an enormous engine, and now he was pleased by the sight of their military truck ambling down the road towards them. With Abraham and Sasha on the ground it could only be Carl in the driver's seat, Carl who laid his hand on the horn as he picked up speed.

At the sight of the incoming vehicle chaos ensued amongst the Saviours, everyone of them breaking rank in an instant. Whatever the intention was today, Negan hadn't exactly sent his A team, that much was clear by the way they fled while leaving behind the weapons they had just taken from their would be victims. Racing forward Rick seized the nearest rifle just as Rosita and Lana did the same, whereas Daryl lunged directly for Dwight. As the two men fought for the crossbow Rick and the others opened fire on the Saviours, shooting those who were running for cover and those who fired on the truck that was closing in, their rounds barely making a scratch on the bulletproof exterior.

In seconds the fight between Daryl and Dwight was over, the latter relinquishing the crossbow and then fleeing under the cover fire provided by his men. Meanwhile Daryl lay there on the road, gingerly sitting up and touching his stomach, but there was no time to go to his aid. Seconds later their military truck veered off the road and then mowed down the Saviours, both those fighting and those fleeing, and Rick absolutely had to stop and watch. One by one they went down, the few lucky ones who had made it to the tree line getting away unscathed, Dwight included.

As the truck passed and screeched to a stop they opened fire again, shooting at the retreaters as they too returned fire, but only for a few moments. From a distance he watched as Dwight turned around and fired one last parting shot, one that went no where in particular, and then he fled into the trees and got away with three or four others. Rick shared a quick glance with Rosita and Sasha before they set off on foot, fully prepared to hunt down every single one of them, but at the last second he was forced to stop.

"Rick!" Lana was calling to him. "Wait!"

Waiting only until he was certain Dwight and the Saviours were out of sight did Rick turn around, his heart sinking as he looked back to the car. Daryl was being helped into the back of the car by Abraham, clutching his stomach as he slumped heavily across the backseat. His fingers were marred by bright red blood, smears left on the outside of the car in his wake.

"Stab wound?" Rosita questioned, getting into the back and unceremoniously climbing over him to settle herself on his legs. "How deep?"

"Shallow, I think," Abraham answered, climbing out the other side. "There's active bleeding."

As Rosita applied pressure Daryl grit his teeth in pain, swearing at the top of his lungs. "Mother f- cunt faced bitch stabbed me!" he growled, raising his head only for it to fall back onto the seat. "Bitch stabbed me."

"We need to go," Rosita called out, removing her jacket and using it to stem the blood. "Home is closest."

While Sasha and Lana scrambled to jump into the front Rick raced around to the rear, imploring them to wait just a moment longer. While he opened the trunk and cleared a space, Carl knelt beside Denise's body and straightened the glasses on her face, his hands trembling as he looked down at her in shock, unable to comprehend what had happened.

Ushering him out of the way Rick and Abraham picked her up, taking as much care as they could as they lay her down in the trunk of the car. While Abraham kept pushing their bags out of the way to make room for her legs, Rick turned Denise's face away and removed his pocket knife, not relishing the next task. As horrible as it was it had to be done, they couldn't even wait to allow Tara to be the one to do it on Denise's behalf…they did not let their own people turn. In one swift move he thrust the knife beneath the back of her skull, plunging it to the hilt so he was confident that she wouldn't turn.

When he removed the knife he allowed her head to turn back, then pulled her glasses off and used the sleeve of his jacket to close her eyes. When he replaced the glasses over her eyes he looked at her a moment longer, taking the only opportunity he had left to silently thank her. He was forever in her debt for saving Carl's life that day…without her his son would be dead.

The car's engine was stalling on them, smoke appearing at the edges of the hood as it ticked over and over, but to no avail. "Get him out," Sasha instructed, abandoning her attempts to start the car. "We'll have to take the truck, let's go!"

"No!" Rick called out, his heart faltering as he considered his next words. He looked at the truck waiting twenty yards down the road, the back of it crammed full of guns and ammunition, weapons they absolutely had to get to the Kingdom. They needed Hilltop on their side, and for that they needed something to offer them…this couldn't wait.

"What is it?" Sasha questioned, looking him in the eye. "Rick?"

"We…we have to get to the Kingdom," he said heavily, emphasising the urgency of this. "We have to get these guns there, and they've got doctors."

Sasha blinked, her lips parting as she looked around to watch Abraham hurriedly helping Daryl to the truck, Rosita keeping up and holding her jacket against his stomach. "Home is closer," she argued.

"We're halfway there, we'll radio ahead, have them meet us with a car at the edge of the city," he bargained, already making his way towards Daryl, catching him before he began climbing into the cabin of the truck. "Daryl, we-"

"Kingdom," he grunted roughly, hissing in pain as he pulled himself up.

"Are you crazy?" Lana exclaimed, rushing towards them in outrage. "We have to get him home, now!"

"Lan-"

"Those guns are more important than him?"

"We're goin'," Daryl growled at her, slumping down across the front seat. "So quit yah bitchin'."

She turned her outrage directly to him. "Quit my bitching?" she questioned as she climbed up, Daryl moaning when he realised she was joining them in the cabin. "You're a fucking dick head! You've been stabbed, you realise that, right?"

Leaving them to it Rick hastened away to help the others, he and Abraham opening the trunk of the now useless Hyundai. Moving her again, Rick apologised as they pulled Denise back into their arms and carried her to the truck, unwilling to leave her body unattended. When Sasha cleared a space for them they did their best to get Denise in with as much grace and dignity as they could, hating the way her head lolled about on the floor, her glasses falling off for a second time.

"Carl, let's go!" Abraham bellowed, leaping down from the back and rushing to the cabin to take the driver's seat. "Ass in the truck, now!"

"Come on!" Rick too called out, he and Sasha standing in the back of the truck waiting for him. "Carl!"

Inexplicably he was wandering through the overgrown grass on the side of the road, his head bowed low. Conscious of every second wasted Rick called out to Carl again, but he looked up to acknowledge them only when the truck's engine roared to life. He held up his hand, asking for just one more minute, but before Rick could say no he had lunged for something on the ground. Having found what he was looking for he made a run for it back to the truck, brandishing Rick's Colt in explanation, and when he saw the sunlight glinting on the barrel he was suddenly less impatient. As he jogged back to them Carl looked over his shoulder and then raised the gun, giving a twisted sort of smile as he fired a shot into the air, wasting a precious round.

Standing at the edge of the truck's rear Rick reached down and took Carl's hand, quickly helping him up into the back while Sasha called out to Abraham, giving him the all clear. Before Carl even had time to find somewhere to sit the truck was in motion, the sudden jolt making them all falter as they tried to orient themselves. They were all breathless as they sat down on the many crates and boxes of weapons, Carl's gaze falling onto Denise's body. In spite of everything that had transpired in the space of merely five minutes, they each fell silent in horrified contemplation. As they drove away Rick looked back the way they had come, watching their abandoned car disappear while Dwight and his surviving group fled the scene. The Saviours had been unprepared for Rick's group to fight back…but at the same time, Rick too had been unprepared. Denise lifeless before him was proof of that.

It was ten minutes before Carl nudged him, passing over his Colt. He took it back without a word, and he looked up only when Carl asked him to, saying his name to get his attention.

"You still fired the last shot."

Merely two hours later, Rick found himself in the same doctor's office in which he and Carl had spent much time. For thirty minutes now they had been there with Brea and Mak, the two doctors assessing Carl's skin graft and asking him a myriad of questions, consulting the extensive notes Denise had kept over the last month. Today was cause for celebration, the official all clear that the graft had taken successfully, that it was free of infection and healing as planned, but even that news didn't make a difference to what had happened that day.

Colton, Dianne and Mak had met them at the edge of the city with a bona fide ambulance, taking Daryl into the back before returning to the Kingdom at great speed, faster than they would have made it in the military truck. Rick went with him every step of the way, and not to his surprise so too did Lana, though she did nothing more than sit there in horrified silence and watch on. By the time they made it to the Kingdom and managed to get him to the Infirmary there were already three residents waiting outside, their sleeves rolled up as precious blood drained from their arms.

Mak and Brea took him straight into their makeshift surgical theatre, Rick and Lana left waiting outside in disbelief. For the longest time they simply stood there with one another waiting, for although the wound seemed only shallow these things had a way of turning bad quickly, especially these days. It took a while for him to take notice that Lana's face was still covered in Denise's blood, and when he pointed it out to her the entirety of what happened to them seemed to hit home for her. Beginning to tremble she sank down onto a nearby chair with a heavy breath, staring at the floor.

"This isn't your fault," he said quietly. Taking the seat beside her he passed her a damp cloth he had taken from the nearby consulting rooms. "They were waiting for us to come past, they didn't even know you were with us."

She sniffled, staring at the cloth for a moment before raising it to her face. "It doesn't feel like it," she murmured. "Denise was only coming because of me."

"She was coming for Carl too," he murmured, though this was only half true. If it were only Carl seeking a doctor's visit at the Kingdom, Denise would have likely stayed home.

"I can't believe they went back," she muttered under her breath, vigorously rubbing the cloth against her cheek. "They're so stupid."

"You mean Dwight?" he questioned, recalling the leader of the less than competent team of Saviours, the man with the horrific scars on his face.

"Yeah. I knew they ditched Daryl, but I didn't really think they went back."

There was silence for a short while now, Rick glancing up when he saw movement in the corner of his eyes, but it wasn't Brea or Mak coming out of the surgery. Instead it was Richard, carrying a First Aid kit that he set down on the floor next to Lana. Providing a few soft words of condolences he gently set about cleaning up her hand, apologising when she winced in discomfort. From her wrist down to her knuckles were three scratches, deep enough in parts that they had bleed, leaving trails of dried blood coursing down her fingers. Though she looked all the worse for wear she was lucky to have come through it all relatively unscathed. As they waited Rick watched her from the corner of his eye, wondering how much today's events would influence her coming decision of whether to stay in Alexandria or to join Vetor out on the road.

"The rest of your group are here safely," Richard told him, still carefully tending to Lana's hand. "Dianne's with them now. Looks like just a few scrapes and bumps."

"Thank you," Rick murmured, though he said nothing more. Richard's ongoing hospitality wasn't going to make what might have to happen any easier.

Within the hour things began to turnaround, Daryl receiving a tentative all clear following his surgery with Mak and Brea, and after an appropriate time spent rest they were allowed in to see him. But though Rick celebrated his lucky escape and sat by his bedside a while, now was not the time to relax. What should have been a simple journey to the Kingdom had become a disaster, one whose consequences would harm more than Daryl and Denise. For so long they had operated with a contingency plan, but now Denise's death left them in a difficult position, grief aside. He knew in advance what the doctors were going to say to him tonight, and the potential consequences that held for Carrie and their baby. Although this would be his third child, it would be his first not born by caesarian, and that thought alone terrified him. What they faced meant that tonight had to go smoothly, and that if push came to shove Rick could not give in.

"Carl, wait for me outside, please," Rick instructed, his doctor's visit having come to an end now he had the all clear.

Doing as he was told without protest, Carl thanked his doctors again before making himself scarce. There were a few moments of silence as they waited for him to leave, conversation resuming only when he had closed the door behind himself.

"How's Carrie doing?" Brea asked, broaching the subject first. "Did Denis…" she trailed off awkwardly, taking pause before continuing. "Did Denise bring her file?"

Nodding, Rick passed over the manilla folder of the notes Denise kept on Carrie's pregnancy. A few innocuous drops of blood marred the exterior, the yellow paper making the blood look brown instead of red. It had been sitting on Denise's lap during the journey, and in the chaos of it all Sasha had the state of mind to get it before they fled in the military truck.

"The baby's in the breech position," he began explaining, watching on as Brea opened the folder and began looking through the paperwork. Beside her Mak was sitting quietly, peering over at the paperwork without comment.

"She's only thirty six weeks," Brea commented. "It will probably turn on its own. Did Denise discuss intervention options?"

"Yes. Carrie's been doing some yoga, stretches. Denise said that you would know how to turn it with your hands if you had to."

"I'd give it another week or so, but yes, we can consider that. We have a licensed chiropractor here, Bren. We should consider the Webster technique as a starting point. It can help promote pelvic alignment and release tension in the pelvis and uterus, and has a pretty good success rate without the need for manual manipulation. How is she otherwise?"

"Generally uncomfortable," he said shortly, looking at the two doctors who were avoiding eye contact with him. He knew what was coming, he knew what they were going to say.

"And foetal movement? Has she noticed any changes? Anything worrying her?"

"You can ask her yourself tomorrow," he said gently. "I know we had planned on staying for a few more days, but given what happened out there we're leaving for Alexandria before dawn."

Now came the uncomfortable pause, Brea looking up at him tentatively before turning to Mak. Like always he sat there in silence, his arms folded across his chest as he continued perusing some of Denise's notes. Nevertheless Brea was clearly deferring to him, and a short nudge to his arm got his attention…but Rick didn't doubt for a moment that he was perfectly aware of the current tension.

"Given the nature of what happened today," Mak began softly, slowly lowering the notes to look Rick in the eye. "We feel it's unsafe to travel."

"It is. Which is why Carrie needs to stay in Alexandria."

"It is unsafe for us to travel," Mak continued, making his position very clear.

"You know already what a heavy blow it is to lose a doctor, someone who can save lives," Brea said apologetically. "There are two doctors here for over a hundred and twenty people. We're stretched thin as it is. If one of us were to die, it-"

"This was our agreement," Rick reminded her, sitting forward in the chair. "An agreement we made months ago.

"That agreement was made under different circumstances," Mak argued, his tone never wavering outside of softly spoken. "Things have changed. You must bring Carrie to the Kingdom to have her baby."

"No," he said emphatically. "It's safer to travel now, right now. Any Saviours out there are busy licking their wounded pride, we can travel safely tonight, but after that-"

"I'm sorry, Rick. But-"

"Does Richard know about this?"

"Richard?"

"Yes, Richard. Is this coming from him, or you?"

"I have no doubt you'll bring this to his attention."

Rick hesitated, his argument on the tip of his tongue, but that's where it had to stay. He knew what he wanted to do, that he ought to demand Brea come back with him, to remind her of the dangers Carrie faced without a doctor's support for the birth, but it would be wasted breath. Brea and Mak knew all these things already, and though it was them with who he was concerned, they were not the ones he needed to negotiate with. Instead he changed tact, simply nodding his head as if submitting to their will.

"Thank you for seeing us," he said, and though he was sincere in his gratitude they could no doubt feel his dissatisfaction.

Making it clear the meeting was over he rose to his feet and gestured for Carrie's file, taking it back and then thanking them each one more time. Out in the hall he found Carl patiently waiting, and sitting opposite him was Lana and Sasha, the latter attempting to take Denise's place as a supportive face. While Carl was no doubt curious as to why Lana was there to see the doctors, for teenagers did tend to be nosy sometimes, Rick doubted he had been rude enough to ask.

"Lana, come on in," Brea said, giving her a welcoming smile as she held the door open and waited for her.

Her eyes downcast Lana got to her feet, clutching her own medical file that was marred with spots of Denise's blood, and she went in alone. Leaving Sasha to wait for her, Rick and Carl made their way down the hall to the next room where Daryl was laying in recovery, resting now that he was out of the woods.

"What's up with Lana?" Carl whispered. "Is she sick?"

"That's none of our business," he said pointedly, a gentle reprimand.

"But if she's sick, then w-"

"None of our business," he repeated, knocking before opening the door to the room where Daryl was recovering.

All was quiet inside, the room dimly lit by a single lamp near Daryl's bed. He lay quietly on his side, appearing to be asleep and resting comfortably. Coming inside and approaching the bedside he began to gauge the room, feeling the tension. On one side of Daryl's bed sat Abraham, his feet kicked up onto another chair while he closed his eyes and got some rest of his own, while on the other side of the bed sat Rosita. Glaring daggers at Abraham she was the epitome of if looks could kill. Clearly there had been no progress in terms of her proffering forgiveness. Hell, though he had largely stayed out of their messy breakup Rick couldn't blame her for the way she felt.

"What's the consensus?" he asked her quietly, gesturing to Daryl.

"He won't stay here," she murmured, looking at him exasperation. "But Mak wants him to stay at least until tomorrow. If there's going to be complications, they'll happen in the next few hours."

Rick sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Daryl's sleeping form. How long did they have before Dwight and his men regrouped and were back on the hunt? Their window of opportunity to get home safely was short, but he had to weigh that up against the risks of taking Daryl out of the doctor's care too quickly.

"They want him to stay a week, but if we don't take him home with us he'll only make things worse trying to get back alone."

"I have to agree with you there," Rick replied, knowing what to expect when it came to Daryl. "We'll wait as long as we can…see what happens in the next few hours. I want you to get a full run down from Mak. You're our doctor now."

Not dwelling on the magnitude of those words, Rick nudged Abrahams' chair with his foot, suspecting that he wasn't really asleep. Rousing immediately he sat up in his chair and gave Rick an expectant look, wanting to know how things went with the doctors, but his silence said it all. Knowing he had Abraham on board for what they needed to do he glanced over at Rosita to gauge her opinion, relieved when she gave him a short nod of agreement.

"Wait here with Daryl," he instructed Carl, gesturing to the chair that Abraham was now vacating. "Help him if he needs to get up."

Needing to enact the next step whether they liked it or not, Rick and Abraham left the rest of their group behind and began organising themselves.

Thursday, February 19

They waited as long as they could, but in the end there was no denying that they had to arrive home before daylight. It was approaching four o'clock in the morning, by now making it twelve hours since Daryl had come out of Mak and Brea's surgery, and he had been stable since then. He had outright refused all requests to stay at the Kingdom, and had endured Mak's lengthy lecture about the risks of being stabbed in the lower gut, but he was not to be swayed. Whether they liked it or not Daryl was coming home with them, and praying that he wasn't signing his death warrant by letting him have his way, Rick agreed to take him home.

It was bitterly cold out this early in the morning, a light sprinkling of rain making Rick antsy to get back on the road as soon as possible. They had little else to pack other than some emergency gas and drinking water, making their efforts to get on underway blissfully short. In the open trunk of the borrowed station wagon lay Denise's body, tenderly wrapped in a white sheet the Kingdom had given them. Tomorrow they would arrange a funeral and bury her in Alexandria, arrangements they were becoming too well practiced in.

Waiting out in the cold dark night with them were Richard and Jesus, the latter having made his own journey from the Hilltop to take collection of the guns Rick had brought with them. Having lost their armoury to the Saviours a long time ago, Jesus and the Hilltop were solely dependant on the weapons and ammunition that Alexandria and the Kingdom were supplying them with, weapons without which left them ill equipped to wage war against the Saviours. Rick felt bad about what he was about to do, for his fight wasn't with Jesus, but it was Jesus who would suffer the fall out if Richard didn't meet his demands.

From around the corner another vehicle arrived, a light grey van that was also on loan from the Kingdom. Abraham was in the driver's seat, and he pulled it to a stop behind the station wagon and waved Rick over, wanting him to take a look. Opening the passenger door he looked into the rear, noting that it was separated from the driver's cabin by a steel cage. Every element came under scrutiny now, Rick seizing the cage and giving it a rough shake to test its stability. Though the van and the cage wasn't the most ideal for their needs it would be sufficient for a brief journey home. They would have to tolerate some poor company in the back, but it would be safe enough…it would be worth it too.

Joining them a short while later was the rest of the group, Daryl wrapped in a warm blanket and sitting in a wheelchair. He was still sedated, likely the only reason anyone had convinced him to sit in a wheelchair, and lingering awkwardly by his side was Lana. Nevertheless to her credit she was there, fussing with the blanket around his shoulders and making sure the IV bag didn't become kinked. Perhaps it was for the best that Daryl was sedated and couldn't tell her to quit with the fussing.

Eager to be back on the road Rick came forward to help, and between he and Rosita they helped Daryl get to his feet and then into the car, taking the front passenger seat. "You alright?" he asked in concern, taking care not to jostle the surgical drain in his side.

Daryl nodded affirmatively, his elbow instinctually coming to hover in front his wound, protecting it from any bumps. Though he was conscious his eyes were glassy, and when he spoke his words were slurring. "Wha' she do?"

Following his directions Rick looked up, unsurprised to find Lana still hovering a few yards away, clutching Daryl's pillow. "I don't know," he answered, for there was only one thing to which Daryl must be referring to. "You want the pillow?"

Not giving an answer Daryl's eyes fluttered closed, grimacing a little as he turned away. Gesturing to Lana for the pillow he carefully slipped it behind Daryl's lower back, spreading out the blanket to ensure sure he would be warm and comfortable for the journey home.

"I just need one more minute," he said to Sasha, gesturing to where Richard and Jesus stood waiting nearby. "We'll be on the road soon."

"We doing this?" she clarified, looking to Abraham. They all knew what the play was, and they were all ready to stick to their demands if they had to.

"We're about to find out," Abraham said gruffly, he and Rick turning away to get a start on things.

Until their journey today it had been their intention to share their newfound knowledge of the Saviours, the information Lana's group had given them critical to gaining an advantage over a group that had more numbers and firepower. But now that knowledge was leverage in Alexandria's favour, leverage that Rick now had to utilise whether he liked it or not. Everything was going smoothly, Ezekiel seemed to be on board with their plans, and Jesus had things under control at the Hilltop…there was only one bump in the road that had to be addressed.

"We're grateful for what you've done," he began, wanting to at least start on good terms. "I can't thank you enough for saving Daryl's life."

Richard nodded slowly. "If the tables were turned, I know Alexandria would do the same for my people…they are," he emphasised, acknowledging their alliance.

Not letting Richard's gratitude influence him, no matter how genuine it was, Rick began the difficult conversation. "We've come to learn a great deal about the Saviours," he started, pleased by the way Richard's eyes widened in surprise. "We know where they live, the floor plans of their building, how many outposts they have, how many spotters on which highways…"

"How?" Richard asked in awe, looking between him and Abraham. "Did you follow them again?"

"The how doesn't matter," Rick answered, keeping quiet about Lana's history.

"Well, let's…" Richard began, trailing off when he looked around at the cars. Realisation slowly dawned on him. They were leaving immediately….they weren't sharing any of this with him. "Rick, you need to tell me these things. We're in an alliance."

"We will tell you," he agreed, glancing at Abraham before continuing. "But first, we need the agreement we already reached months ago. I want Brea to come to Alexandria, now."

Richard's face fell, and though he tried to hide it he wasn't quick enough. "I've heard that things have changed for them. I spoke with Brea last night."

"They're scared. So are we, but the fact is, we need Brea in Alexandria. That was part of our understanding."

"Our understanding?" Richard questioned, sounding perturbed. "For your allegiance?"

"Yes."

"No," he said firmly, shaking his head. "It may have been an arrangement, but it wasn't the terms of your allegiance."

"It is now," Abraham stated. "Brea comes with us tonight, or we're out…and we take our guns home with us."

"Surely you can understand why they don't want to travel," Richard implored them, gesturing to the back of the station wagon where Denise's body lay.

"Carrie is thirty six weeks pregnant, and the baby is breech," Rick stated, holding firmly to his ground. "This is serious for her. She cannot travel."

"It's safer to travel right now," Abraham reminded him. "Those pricks are off cowering in the dirt somewhere. It has to be tonight."

Richard sighed, looking down at the ground as he collected his thoughts, and they allowed him a few moments. "I can't, Rick. I'm sorry."

"Not good enough."

"I can't make her go if she doesn't want to go!"

"Figure something out."

"It's not just me, it's Ezekiel," he argued, trying to make them hear him out. "He won't force her to leave against their will, he won't force either of our doctors. He's still on the fence about this whole thing as it is, this could tip him in the wrong direction."

"Then we're out," he threatened. "We'll take our guns home and all our information. Where would that leave you, Jesus?"

Having been trying to stay out of the debate, Jesus only reluctantly looked up at them. He stood there with his arms folded across his chest, his face set in a blank stare, but now he seemed worried. Apologetic, he turned to Richard. "They're right, Richard."

"Don-"

"We need those guns," he implored. "I cannot go home and ask people to fight the Saviours with spears."

"I'm giving you guns too."

"Ans Gregory? He's even more on the fence than Ezekiel. I have half a mind not to tell him that we're going through with it, I definitely can't tell him that Rick's not on board."

Infuriated, Richard turned back to Rick. "You can't pull out," he stated forcefully. "You need this alliance as much as I do! You could be only weeks away from them attacking you. What happened today is nothing. A bee sting in comparison!"

"We need each other," Rick emphasised. "I have information and weapons that you need, and you have a doctor I need. It doesn't get more simple than that."

There was a long and uncomfortable pause now, all of them looking at Richard expectantly, awaiting his decision. One way or another his decision affected all three groups. Either he accepted Rick's terms and they proceeded as planned, or he rejected them and everything ground to a halt, Jesus going home with only half his promised stockpile and Rick taking his guns and information home to Alexandria. As they waited Rick made a rare prayer inside his head, praying that Richard didn't call his bluff. He was not naive, he knew that he couldn't take on the Saviours without the other two groups to support him…if Richard called his bluff he would not only be forced to bring Carrie here, but he would lose all future bargaining power should something else arise to negotiate.

"Can you give me two weeks to talk Brea around?" Richard asked, his voice heavy with need. "Please. Just two weeks for the dust to settle on what happened today."

Rick shook his head, as did Abraham. "No. It has to be now."

"It's not enough notice."

"It has to be now, before Dwight has a chance to regroup."

"One week."

"No," Rick said again, more forcefully this time. Seeing that he was getting somewhere he took a step forward, holding Richard's gaze and adding the pressure. "I don't care which, but one of your doctors comes with us now, or I'm done with you."

"Bring Carrie here. It's not worth losing this alliance over!"

"So don't lose this alliance. Make it happen, Richard. Now."

When another long pause came to pass, he and Abraham took a risk. With a heavy sigh Abraham turned and started making his way towards the truck, rifling through his pockets to find the keys.

"Last chance," Rick began gently, watching Abraham slowly approaching the vehicle. "The moment he starts that engine, we're going."

"Richard," Jesus hissed, stepping between he and Rick to say something to him in private. They spoke in hushed tones for a moment, and then Jesus whirled around to Rick. "My doctor will come Alexandria. Dr Carson, he's an obstetrician. He will deliver your baby."

"It's a generous offer, but I can't accept."

"He's already agreed. He and I discussed it the day your group came to visit, when he met Carrie."

"Carson's your only doctor," Rick shook his head. "Richard has two."

"Just," Richard began heavily, looking over his shoulder as Abraham swung open the door to the truck's cabin, slowly climbing the side steps. "Rick, please…we can make this work."

"You know what I want."

"Can you blame Brea for not wanting to go?" he berated him, his frustration growing. "She was there the day Frank died. Please Rick, she saw it too…she's scared."

"So is Carrie."

When Abraham made quite the show of slamming the door shut and settling himself into the cabin, Richard seemed to finally come around. "Just give me a couple of days. I'll bring her to you."

"You?" he questioned. "You'll bring her to Alexandria yourself?"

"Yes, I will."

"When?"

"I need some time to talk her into it. A few days."

"When?"

"Sunday," he blurted out. "I'll bring her to Alexandria by noon, Sunday. Come on Rick…we have to meet each other halfway here."

Sunday. That was a mere three days away, and though it wasn't quite what he wanted he'd be a fool to reject those terms. It was better than nothing. "Sunday, noon. Not a minute later."

"You'll tell us the information you have?" Richard clarified.

"You get her there as agreed, and I'll give you every last, horrible detail."

Nodding, Richard extended his hand to shake on it, but Rick paused a moment longer. Though he looked to Abraham and gestured for him to wait, he wasn't yet done playing hardball. "As guarantee, I'm taking back all of my weapons. You can have them on Sunday."

Jesus sighed, this decision affecting him the most. "Rick, I can't go home with half of what I promised."

"I need a guarantee," he apologised, already walking past him. "I'm sorry."

"I'll be your guarantee!" he argued, the volume of his voice drawing attention from those around them. "Come on Rick, please."

"I'm sorry."

Before he could take another step Jesus has darted in front of him, raising his hands in front of himself, asking Rick to stop. Seeing the desperation on his face he slowed to a stop, and despite his determination he found himself willing to hear the young guy out.

"I will guarantee the agreement," Jesus emphasised, looking him in the eye. "I will make sure Richard gets Brea to Alexandria on time."

"In which case, you can collect your weapons then."

"No, come on Rick," he said, looking as though he were about to shove him in a fit of anger. "When have we ever fucked you over?" he demanded, swearing for the first time ever. "When have Richard or I ever fucked you over?"

Holding his gaze, Rick said nothing…there was nothing to say to that.

"That's right," Jesus stated, taking a deep breath before stepping back a little. "We haven't...and we won't. Please Rick, I need those guns tonight. All of them."

As the light rain began dripping down his forehead Rick took a moment to consider it, but he could not argue the valid point Jesus had made. Aside from his delay in telling him about the Saviours in the first place, neither Richard nor Jesus had ever outright fucked him over. The Kingdom had bent over backwards for Alexandria on multiple occasions, and there was no real reason not to trust them. It was time for him to meet them halfway, to compromise. Looking up at Abraham in the truck he gestured for him to come down, and Jesus breathed a visible sigh of relief.

"You have my word," Jesus assured him, shaking his hand. "One way or another, you'll have a doctor in Alexandria by Sunday."

"You have my word too," Richard assured him, he too offering his hand a second time to shake.

Shaking both of their hands, Rick told himself that he had made the right decision. "Thank you," he said sincerely, meaning it. "I'll see you Sunday, at noon."

"Sunday at noon," he repeated, walking Rick and Abraham towards the van where Carl was waiting. "You're sure that's a good idea?" he asked, gesturing to the van.

As Sasha started the engine of the station wagon Rick glanced towards Daryl in the front passenger seat, thinking of how they could have lost him that day. The sight of Denise's body wrapped in a white sheet in the trunk of the car was what confirmed to him that this really was a good idea…he dreaded that in a short time he would be rousing Tara from her sleep to give her the news, that he would have to break her heart.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Without any further delay they departed the Kingdom, Sasha taking the lead in the station wagon while Abraham, Carl and Rick followed in the van. Behind them came the military truck with Jesus at the wheel, who followed them until they reached the edge of the city where they parted ways, the two groups heading in different directions to get home. Outside of the Kingdom's safe territory they travelled the highways without incident, the roads entirely free of Walkers and threats of any kind, yet it was impossible to relax.

All too soon they reached the spot where it happened, their green Hyundai still abandoned in the middle of the road. With caution they slowed to a stop a few yards away, letting the engines idle as they scoped out their surroundings, but just as they suspected there were no signs of the Saviours having returned. Confident to proceed Rick donned a set of the heavy duty gloves they had brought with them from the Kingdom, passing some to Carl and Abraham too.

"Stick with Abe," he requested of Carl as they stepped out of the van and back into the cold February night. "I'll be right back."

Wanting to check on Daryl he made his way towards the others, glad they left the engine was still idling and ready to go at a moment's notice. As he approached the driver's side Sasha lowered the window.

"Is he asleep?" Rick asked in disbelief, looking through to where Daryl sat. His eyes were closed and his head lolled against his shoulder…it was unusual to see him looking so peaceful.

"Brea slipped him a little more sedative before we left," Sasha explained.

"I thought he was being too cooperative," he joked under his breath as he glanced into the back where Rosita and Lana sat together. He didn't know what resulted from Lana's visit with the doctors, if a decision had been made or if she had received the pills she asked for…all he knew was that she had a big decision on her shoulders right now.

"Five minutes, that's all?" Sasha asked, though it was more of a reminder than a question.

"Five minutes," he assured her. "Maybe ten."

"Five minutes," she emphasised.

At this Rosita opened the back door and hastily stepped outside, making a point of slamming the door. "I'll get our stuff out," she said shortly, marching off towards the abandoned Hyundai.

Sensing that one could cut the tension in that car with a knife he didn't refuse her help, merely giving Sasha what he hoped was a sympathetic shrug. Reassuring her that they would make quick work of their task he rejoined the others, Abraham giving a loud whistle that wasn't completely necessary. Already they could hear movement through the darkness, the Walkers having been drawn by the sound of their engines and their headlights.

"Here," Carl said, drawing their attention to a Walker emerging from the grassy area on the side of the road. "That one. He's fresh."

"Fresh as the turd under my boot," Abraham agreed.

Luring the Walker in close Rick gave it a once over, agreeing with the observation that it was one of the Saviours they had killed that afternoon. Judging by its messed up face and its difficulty walking he suspected it was one that Carl had mowed down with their military truck, though he tried not to think about that too much. It was all too easy to get it into the van, Rick and Abraham gave it a rough shove inside before Carl quickly slammed the doors shut.

From there the work became a little more difficult, Rosita jogging over to help them as they took on three more Walkers, interested only in those that were Saviours. With Carl climbing into the front to lure the Walkers away from the doors they quickly managed to get all of them in the back, securing them there for the thirty minute journey back home to Alexandria.

Rick knew what he was doing was sick, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity…the Saviours who helped kill Denise were soon to be Alexandria's newest guards on spikes.

A/N Hi readers - bit of a hastily finished chapter, but I hope you enjoyed Rick turning the tables and putting some pressure on the Kingdom.

Maybe bit of a delay for chapter 38, but it's a new Lana and Daryl scene that I absolutely had to write. Without it the rest of their story arc just isn't as strong, so it will be worth the wait.

And just as in the TV series, after Dwight's first attack things start ramping up for Alexandria!