A/N: Please, be warned that toward to the end of the chapter there might be a scene that might irk you reading.
XXXIII.
The morning after Rick had told her he was very glad she wanted to see if he got the bite hadn't started well. Amanda told herself she would have guessed it… she'd seriously jinxed herself. First Carl, now this, she grunted in her mind seeing the clear suspicion in Carol's eyes as the older woman regarded her curiously as they sat around the island in the kitchen with Beth after the breakfast. "Are you pregnant?" Carol asked.
Come on! She forced herself not to exclaim and settled down Judith on her lap instead, and gave the baby the little toy they'd found in the house, the ire was rising inside her despite her best efforts… "I don't know," she snapped, "We just tried it." Everyone fucking seemed to think they were getting married because she got pregnant.
You got her knocked up, dad? Carl had asked his father this morning when Rick had told him the news—just like that as if his father wouldn't have done it otherwise… wouldn't want to marry her if she didn't get accidently knocked up. The notion pissed her off greatly as she started seeing that everyone would assume that… They even might think she somehow got Rick fooled and got knocked up to force his hands.
Dammit! Why was it so hard to believe he would want to have a baby with her? She knew their world wasn't rainbows and kittens, they'd just lost Noah two days ago, and almost Glenn too…but goddammit… Rick was a family man. She'd realized it at the first second. Was it really so surprising that he wanted to have a baby with her? She wondered if Carl, Carol, or anyone else would have been this surprised if Rick had decided to do it with Michonne. As soon as the thought appeared in her mind, Amanda also knew the answer. No, they wouldn't have been. It was just her.
She knew she shouldn't have bothered by it. Everyone was entitled to their own fucking opinion, and she didn't care. She was what she was, and she was never going to apologize for it, too, never. She'd made her bed a long time ago, and she was prepared to lie within, she had been always, but still… she fucking hated it, the thought everyone thinking that she had forced Rick into this.
She glanced down, her eyes catching at Judith. And how…peaceful they had been this morning when they had woken up. While she'd tried to get the little baby up from her cot, Judith had clutched her hair in her tiny fist, and Amanda had let out a small laugh as the baby started pulling it, and told her she was just like her father…. "Now Daddy likes pulling my hair too when we play, sweetheart…" she'd said—
And Rick had grunted out softly from the bed… "You're corrupting her, sweetheart—"
Amanda had then sheepishly given him a look together with a "who me" smile, and for a moment, for a moment, it'd really looked like normal…peaceful…a family having a normal morning… then Rick said he was going to tell it to Carl.
Then Carl had asked Rick that… as if that could have been the only, only fucking reason why Rick Grimes would want to marry Amanda Shepherd. You got her knocked up, dad?
Amanda suppressed a sigh. She'd wondered how Carl would react, she knew Carl had a very close bond with Michonne, and Amanda had never been good with children. Rick then had told his son no, they had decided it together. In answer Carl had just shrugged off with a whatever.
She truthfully hadn't expected this, but she hadn't expected it would bother her this much, either. She wanted to have the same bond she had started having with Judith with Carl, too. She wanted him to come to her when he got…mad or something instead of Michonne. She wanted him to tell her about that girl he got hots for. Amanda wanted them to be a family. She wanted them to be a whole big fucking happy family.
Beth turned to her. "So how are you going to do it?" she asked. Amanda looked at her confused. "The ceremony," Beth clarified, "How are you going to marry?"
How were they going to marry? Well, Amanda had no idea. The thought had never crossed her mind before, even before the turn, but really how one was supposed to get married after the world ended? It wasn't anything legally binding anymore. In truth, it was just a ceremony. "Uh—I guess we can ask Father Gabriel to marry us," she said, pursing her lips down.
The notion…that whimpering coward being the one who would bind them together bothered her, too, though. Because even if they would just say the words, Amanda still knew it was more than that, it meant much more than that; she was going to be his wife, legally binding or not.
Carl, taking the orange juice from the cooler, shook his head. "Dad ain't religious. Don't you know that?" he shot back.
Inwardly, Amanda sighed. Outside she just eased off a half of shrug. "Neither am I."
Carl mimicked her gesture, "Whatever."
He left the kitchen. She shared a look with Beth, who gave her an emphatic one back at her. "He'll get used to it," Carol tried to comfort her with a matter of fact voice.
Amanda nodded. "Yeah," Beth encouraged too, holding Judith's arm, "He will."
Amanda nodded again. People always got used to everything at the end, it was a lesson she'd learned a long time ago, but it didn't mean like they liked it. There were a lot of things she'd gotten used to it, all her life had been a pretty sum of things she didn't mind, things she didn't care, things she didn't like, and things she fucking hated. She really didn't want it to be like that with Carl. She wanted the young man liked her…even loved her, not this whatever attitude.
"Rick?" Carol asked then, "What's he gonna do?"
"For now, nothing," Amanda answered, turning her mind from one trouble thought to another, "I told him to wait."
Carol gave her another curious look. "Why?"
"Deanne…" she explained, "She lost her son. She needs—to have her time."
Giving her a look, Carol shook her head. "That's sweet," Carol told her back, with a smile and all, and again Amanda felt again the old woman was anything but what she seemed… Amanda knew their kinds, too. In her precinct, sometimes women came…with kind faces, and gentle tones and sweet words, they spoke to you and you believed they could never ever commit such felonies…murder people in cold people, but the truth at the end came out. The last woman who gave her the same kind of smiles that Carol Peletier did had killed her husband over two years, adding a small dose of arsenal in his food every night. So Carol might fool Alexandrians, but she wasn't fooling Amanda. Rick seemed like he trusted her, and that was enough for her, but still she wasn't fooled.
"I want her to stay coolheaded," Amanda explained, "I want both of them stay coolheaded," she corrected. "We need them." She felt it…deep in her stomach, Amanda really felt it, her gut feeling—what she had told Rick was true, they needed Deanne's visionary, both Rick and her were like wary animals, keen on survival where Deanne had…more ambitions than just staying alive—and even though she was really, really wary of people with big ambitions, what she had also told Rick was true, without their visionary the humankind would have still stayed in their caves. No. Amanda wouldn't really like her child or Judith to grow up in a cave. Deanne needed them to survive, but they also needed to her to build a bit more than a safe cave. It might work. It had to. If only she could keep them coolheaded…make them find a common ground.
"Rick needs to deal with it," Carol said though, "The town—it's buzzing."
Amanda gave her a look. "Buzzing?"
"They worry."
"People always do that," Amanda said back, looking at Judith as she started wheezing again.
"People are wary. They're expecting something. They also started talking."
Intrigued, Amanda turned her look at the older woman again. Now, people did that too all the time. "Hmm…" Amanda commented.
"They mentioned…an accident."
She started hopping slowly the baby in her arms as her wheezing grew more, "What kind of an accident?"
"The kinds that got you exiled out," Carol answered.
"Hmm…"
"Those people…those people she sent to exile… I think they raped a girl."
Amanda stared at the woman, bringing Judith closer to her, as Beth looked at them shocked. But somehow Amanda wasn't surprised all that much. She'd started some pretty shit happened here before they came here, things that had made Deanne understand she needed cops.
But there was another point that interested her, interested her more than anything. "That surgeon?" so Amanda asked, "Pete Anderson… was he…involved too?"
Carol gave her a look, but shook her head. "I don't know."
Amanda let out a sigh in answer. She was fucking hating this.
# # #
Alexandria was a hive of unrest.
Daryl could sense the tension in the air, that pregnant pause as if waiting bad things to happen. Again. Sitting at the usual post at the porch's railings, he shook his head. How close they'd come to lose Glenn. How they lost Noah. There wasn't anything left from him, either, Daryl recalled, inwardly shivering. They'd only seen his red blue hoodie…covered with blood and…remains…
The thought brought the memories back… the way they'd found out the remains of the children after the prison attack with Beth… He let out a small sigh, he was so tired of losing people, so tired, but at least Glenn was with them. Last night…last night had been hard, a long, hard night…Beth's cries as Maggie screamed in her arms…
They'd been trying…they'd been trying…a life…a real life like Beth had said, but how it could be ever possible now… The party was good, having Beth like that, but this was their reality, and the world had just sent them another waking up call. Alexandria had been trying not to hear it, aside Deanne and Aaron it seemed, but soon they'd started waking up, too, Daryl could sense it, too.
Rick—Rick wasn't going to take this well. Daryl knew that, too.
As if on the cue, the other man came out of the house, looking solemn and stiff. Daryl gave Rick a half nod, and the man returned it back. So, Daryl had also heard the news. Last night Beth had told him that Rick and Amanda had decided to have a baby…get married. Daryl had thought Rick had finally lost it… He just didn't know. He loved the little ass kicker as his own, but he could never dare to do it… He then wondered if Beth would want it…one day she would want to have a baby, too, she'd used to say she always wanted babies while she took care of Judith…and even Amanda Shepherd wouldn't have resisted the natural call when it had happened…Daryl wondered.
A baby… a baby with Beth… a little baby girl with her wide blue eyes and sand blonde hair… Jesus Christ!
Get a grip on yourself, Dixon, he berated himself.
He gave Rick another look, searching, wondered if that was what the other man felt too, as well, and Rick really, really must love the eccentric police officer if he wanted to marry her… Daryl thought Beth again, then… and shook his head.
"I'm going to the woods," Rick stated, tilting his left hip upward in his usual way, one foot ahead, "Wanna come?"
"Again?" Daryl asked. The man had passed whole day out in the woods again, but then again, Alexandria was really restless, and he could hardly blame anyone for wanting to clear his head off—Daryl wanted to clear his head of as well, but he would expect—he would expect Rick started react now—because Daryl also knew he could not let what happened go aside.
But Rick seemed like…he was dawdling. Waiting. Daryl wasn't sure of what.
The former sheriff nodded. "Yeah. I—I—Amanda and I—we're getting—uh…married," he said, and paused, "Gotta find her a ring."
Daryl nodded back. "I know," he admitted, "Beth told me yesterday."
Rick frowned. "Did she know?"
Daryl shrugged off, "Girls talk." He paused, "The baby—uh—you wanted it, right?" Daryl asked tentatively. Beth had said they wanted to have a baby…but Daryl couldn't still understand—they'd been constantly fighting, got just a break half of a week ago… but sometimes they lost themselves, lust got better of themselves… He'd done the same, too, came inside Beth while at the barn… Jesus Christ!
But understanding his point, Rick shook his head, frowning, "Yes," he stressed out, "Did you really think I wanted to marry her because she got knocked up?" he asked then.
Daryl gave him a half shrug, "Just a thought."
Rick's eyes turned sterner. "I told Carl this morning," he told him, "He asked me the same, too."
Ah… "It's…sudden, man," Daryl said back to soften the ball. "You were just biting off each other's heads a week ago."
Curtly, Rick nodded. "I want to check the quarry tomorrow," he said then, "We should get to work."
Feeling relieved the marriage and baby talk was over, Daryl nodded back. "Yeah…" he agreed, "What about Nicholas?" he asked further, "What're we going to do about him?"
Rick started walking to the steps, shaking his head, "For now, nothing. Amanda wants me to wait. Deanne lost her son. We—we should give her time to mourn."
Daryl gave him another long look. That was pretty decent for Shepherd, but also ominous. Daryl knew Rick wasn't going to let it go. "And then?" Daryl prompted, following him.
"Then I'll deal with him," Rick said plainly.
Daryl only nodded in answer. With them, dealing with something mostly meant eliminating threats now. He understood he already knew it as well, much like the rest of Alexandria, tense air, the gloom and all the shit. Daryl wondered if he should have taken the gun after the party. They started walking towards the gate, and Rick stopped in front of it, squinting at the massive structure.
He turned to Daryl. "Did the boy tell you how he'd escaped?" he asked.
Daryl shook his head. "Nah…He just said he escaped."
"We need to know." He turned around and started walking to the surgeon's house across Deanne's. He knocked their doors with a heavy fist only once, and waited until the door opened. The door creaking half, Sam's mother's blonde head showed off, "Rick—" she said softly, looking at him, then her eyes caught the sight of him, too, "I—uh—is everything okay?"
Rick nodded. "Yeah. We just need to ask a few questions to Sam," Rick told the agitated woman.
From the ajar door, the woman's face got whiter. "Did—did he something? He's…he's getting so…I don't know… He was always such a sweet boy, shy and sweet…sometimes I don't recognize him—" she said, shaking her head.
Rick cut him off, "No…no. It's okay," he assured her, "He—just—uh, he escaped to the woods a few days ago."
The woman's hand went to her mouth in shock. "He—he went there—alone?" she whispered out in fear.
"He followed me," Daryl sustained, "He wanted to get away… he said he broke…some statues or something."
The blonde woman's face lost a bit of her fright, and she let out a sigh, exasperated. "I know it was him," she said then, opening the door fully. They saw a slight redness across her upper cheek… And both frowned at it.
"What happened there—?" Rick asked, his tone edging.
The woman bowed her head quickly, running from their eyes, "I—I fell."
Daryl knew she was lying. She was such a bad liar too, he wondered why she was even trying, but he knew it was hard to confess to anyone you got beaten. Rick took a step closer to her, "Did—did he do this, Jessie?" Rick asked.
The woman—Jessie shook her head. "I—I fell." She turned aside, "I'll get him."
After the woman's retreating back, they both shared a look. Sam came with his mother a few minutes later, looking all sweet and shy in his blue pajamas and Daryl for a moment almost didn't recognize him. He was looking at his bare feet, as if he already knew he was in trouble—shy and avoiding—both avoidant and aggressive—the boy reminded Daryl his own, he realized, as something seized in his chest. His lips flattening, he wondered if there was any redness on the boy like his mother's… if Sam had…fallen as well.
An ire started coursing through his body, and he shook his head. "Hey, boy, head up. Ain't nothing to worry about," he told the little man, "We just gonna ask you some questions."
Sam lifted his head up, looked up at him. "Am I not in trouble?"
Daryl shook his head. "Nah…"
"How did you escape?" Rick asked, leaning towards him down, "It's important, so we can protect ourselves," Rick told him, too, and stopped for a moment, "Do you know what happened two days ago?" he asked as the same time his mother exclaimed—
"Rick!"
Rick didn't heed it. "Do you know?" he insisted, leaning down further, holding up his gaze.
Looking at his eyes, the young child nodded. "They …they killed Noah," he told them, "I met him at the infirmary—Dad looked at his leg."
Rick nodded. "The woods are dangerous. The walkers…monsters are out there. You shouldn't escape." Sam nodded back. "No more kid stuff," he warned the young child sternly, and Daryl knew it was what he used to tell Carl, too, back in the days.
No more kid stuff… Kids…kids weren't allowed be to kids no more. Satisfied, Rick straightened up, "Tell me how did you escape," he ordered.
"Enid…" the boy said, "Enid climbs over the wall and takes off the woods, too. I saw her… did it, too."
Rick let out a grunt. Daryl gave him a look. "Carl…he's a thing for the girl," the other man explained, leaning to his ear. Daryl's look turned almost amused… like the father, like the son… It appeared Carl Grimes had a thing for the wild ladies, too.
"Enid… Enid has been always difficult," Jessie supplied, looking at them, "I know Ron—"
"She doesn't like Ron—" Sam interrupted, "She said he's a boring shmuck."
Jessie let out a gasp, bringing her hand to her mouth again, "Samuel Anderson, watch that tongue!" She turned to them, her face getting red everywhere, "I'm sorry… he really isn't like this usually. It's—it's just—" she faltered, shaking her head.
"Ya can't protect her all the time," Daryl said back, "He said he ain't seen any walker yet."
Rick looked at her surprised. "He didn't?"
Jessie's expression turned stiff. "He—he doesn't need to," she said, walking to them closer, "He's just a child," she whispered.
"He gotta see the real world," Rick said back flatly, "Y'all do!"
Her expression softened, she shook her head again, "I—I know…" she whispered.
Rick nodded at her. "We can show him," Daryl told her then, "We're going to the woods—" he turned to the young boy. He couldn't escape but he could come with them. "Do ya want t' come with us, boy?"
Sam turned to his mother. Jessie looked torn for a moment, then slowly she nodded. "Just get him back before his father returns."
# # #
As she walked to the Deanne's residence, Amanda noticed her younger—now only son—entering into the make-shift church they'd built in the town from one of the houses, and something from his movements, the wariness and amateurish stealth got her attention.
Well, there was something going on there, she almost felt it. The guy was mad about his big brother, and she already knew he liked Rick as much as his brother had, so… but Amanda suspected they might have another problem now, too. Well, she could always get the truth out of from the father later. She had another thing with deal right now.
"I need to talk to Deanne—" Amanda declared stiffly to her husband, as the old man gave her a look and opened his mouth. Amanda cut him off, "No, I need to." She looked at him hard, "I know what happened with those guys she sent to exile."
A minute later, she was in front of the town's leader. "That's why you were looking for cops, right?" Amanda asked her, "Your people got out of the control and you wanted to have someone to help you with it if it happened again."
"Correct," Deanne told her back, her face still ashen, but other than that the woman looked collected, "I never lied to you Amanda. I needed you. I still do. We need to protect this place sometimes also from within. You—Rick and you realize this."
Amanda felt incredibly relieved with that. She sat at the chair in front of her desk. "Then do you know Rick is right?" she asked, giving her a look.
"It's not about who is right," Deanne said back, "but what's. What Alexandria is. Those people I sent away—they didn't get it. They said they didn't rape the girl, they said she never said no," Deanne continued, and Amanda felt a tightness in her chest. That was what she had used to tell herself too each time she felt…guilty for Joan, lying in the darkness in her quarters, telling herself she had never said no—not even when Dawn had forced her, she'd never refused—but she'd always known deep down what they were—just excuses to ease her guilty consciences. She would then think of what ifs until the morning came, until her mind screamed off at her… the familiar guilt had started coming at her again, and she tried to shake it off… she'd done what she had to… and it was just another excuse, too. She could never apologize for being who she was—but sometimes—she wished—she really wished she could have just said she was sorry—so truly, deeply, utterly sorry.
"I didn't take it," Deanne continued, "She was weak, newly came back from outside. She was trying to get back on her feet, and instead of helping her, they exploited her, exploited her weakness, her fragile state just because they could. This isn't Alexandria," Deanne stated firmly.
Amanda nodded, "That isn't Rick," and agreed, "You know it. You wanted to him to protect us, to keep us together. Because that's what he does."
Deanne shook her head. "Rick—Rick wants to be the judge, the jury, and the executioner all the same time. I know it was hard for him out there—for all of you, but that isn't Alexandria, either."
But Amanda shook her head in protest back. "Rick isn't like that, either. He doesn't want to be that man. It's not of his cloth." Amanda knew it. It simply wasn't in him—he could walk over the line-that thin red line, but he could never cross it. Beth had been right about that all along. "I know how you feel. I was in your shoes once. What I said at the interview really came from personal experience, Deanne." She looked at the other woman directly in the eyes, "He's a good, honest man, someone you'd want at your side if you're lucky," she repeated.
The older woman nodded. "Then we don't have any problem, Amanda. I still want him at my side," she said, "But he needs to understand what Alexandria is." The woman stared at her back, "We don't kill people here just because we're afraid."
And that was going to be the main issue, she guessed. But she was tired of this—because in deep down, she also Deanne was right too, they—they couldn't keep doing this just because they were afraid—she'd already had this conversation once with Beth, but her answer hadn't changed despite everything since then. They did what they had to…but they were trying to get to live part now. Her hand briefly touched at her stomach. She didn't want her baby to live like she had had to—always wary, her guard always up… She wanted her baby to be safe, secure, but how the hell they would be safe if their guards were lowered? There had to be a common ground, she felt again, there had to; they couldn't live like this; a talking, breathing example of dichotomy, going between a wary, surviving animal and a trying human.
She let out a small sigh, and decided to focus on the more worldly problems. All this existentialist problems had started being too much for her taste. That wasn't her, either, Amanda had been always practical the most. "The surgeon," she asked then, "What's happening with him? Was he—" she started, but didn't finish. No. He wasn't. Deanne would have never let him stay if he had been involved too.
"No," the older woman also told her the same.
Amanda nodded, but there was still something. "But he…he loses it sometimes, doesn't it?"
Deanne gave out a sigh too. "If I sent away all the people who…lose it sometimes there wouldn't have left anyone around here, Amanda."
Amanda shook her head, giving her a look. "But he's not anyone. He's the surgeon, right?"
"Pete knows if he crosses the line I'll send him off, too," the woman said sternly, with assurance too, and added again, "He'll behave."
For a moment, Amanda couldn't be sure. Dawn had almost been so confident in herself, believing she could have dealt with Gorman and his friends, but at the end she had lost them, too. "He beats his wife," Amanda stated placidly, "Possibly his children, too."
Deanne gave her a hard look. "He's stopped. Stopped drinking, too."
But so he'd done it…and Deanne had let it go… it seemed Alexandria wasn't all that much that place, either. "He was devastated," Deane continued, almost explaining, "Jessie forgave him, too. Asked me…begged me not to send him away—" And she'd given a haircut to Rick as soon as he'd put a step inside the town.
Some women were like this, always needing a man to protect and provide for them, and Amanda tried not to judge anyone, everyone worked with what they had, so long as they kept the fuck clear away from her own man. But the problem was, it wouldn't stop there. It just didn't stop there.
"He's started drinking again," so she reminded her, "We're here almost a week now, but already seen him drunk more than twice. He's losing it again, Deanne."
Deanne shook her head, "He'll behave," she repeated but this time it had come off more like the older woman was trying to convince herself.
Amanda looked at her then, levelling at her a long, searching look then she understood it. She just felt it. Deanne needed the doctor. "And you're giving him his own garden to make him behave, Deanne?" she asked back, "to keep him happy?" she shook her head, "I already saw this film. It doesn't have a happy ending."
No, it'd ended Dr. Edwards getting Beth to kill another man. Amanda stood up, letting out a sigh. "Do you remember what I also told you at our interview?" she asked, and continued quickly, "I told you he's always right. Rick knows what he knows."
Deanne shook her head then, "Not this time," the older woman said, "This time he is wrong."
"Carol says he's right even when he's wrong," Amanda only said before she turned around and walked out.
The next morning, they learned Deanne had sent Nicholas to the exile at the night.
# # #
He should have never listened to Amanda, should have just gone and killed that sonofabitch. That-that was what had happened when he tried to be understanding. She'd sent him away. She knew he was guilty and sent him away out there, where he would find people—or worse got caught… the Wolves were still out there, looking for new victims for their blades. And they had just sent a vindictive, bitter man with a grudge out. His mind went back to Noah's hometown and the utter, sick destruction he'd seen there—and went even back further—Governor—how the man had come back and taken away what they had. His family was here, he'd brought back his people here. She wanted to keep them safe. She wanted to keep all of them safe, and but how the fuck he was going to do it when they didn't let him.
Nicholas…Nicholas that way was just a liability, a risk they wouldn't take. Right or wrong, he didn't care. He wasn't taking any chances anymore. No more. No fucking more.
"I respected your loss!" he yelled walking into the Deanne's office, "And you went my back, sent him off in the dark like a thief!"
Deanne stood up from her desk, as stiff and cold as an iceberg, as Amanda followed him into the room. "I understand your fears," Deanne said, "but it was my call, Rick."
Her tone…her tone was so condescending for a moment Rick felt he caught up fire… "Bullshit!" he shot back, walking to her desk, "You wanted me to keep you safe!" He braced his hands on her desk, and leaned forward, "And how I'm gonna do it if you don't fucking listen to me," he hissed.
"Rick—Deanne," Amanda started but Deanne cut her off.
"But I did listen to you, Rick," the woman told him back with the same hiss, "You just told me you knew." She leaned toward him further too, "You said you didn't need proof. You didn't try to talk to me, didn't try to explain, didn't try to get a confession from Nicholas like the cop you were supposed to be, didn't try to do anything but just told me you already knew."
Well, he supposed he just did that. From behind, he heard Amanda's deep sigh in the sudden silence. "I was still right," he said, pulling back from the desk.
Deanne shook her head. "It was just your conviction," she said in answer, "I, on other hand, got it out of Nicholas, just like you should have."
Rick stared at her, "Then you sent him away."
"We don't kill people here, Rick," she told him coldly.
He shook his head. Why the woman couldn't understand it. "I'm trying to protect this place," he said, his voice turning into a rasp as he leaned forward again, "Why don't you see it?"
Deanne shook her head again. "Not all the people out there are a threat, Rick," she said, stressing out each word, "You have to accept it now."
"You don't know that," he said back, shaking his head, "You can't take the risk."
"I can—" Deanne said, "I did." The old woman gave him a look, "I did it with you."
Her words were pointed, and Rick didn't miss the meaning, but he still shook his head. "You still don't understand. If I'm wrong, it's only person. One person, one person who deserved it—"
She cut him off, her tone getting even stiffer, "We don't get to decide here in Alexandria who deserve to live, and who don't."
Rick leaned in on her again, "You should. Because if you're wrong—it's all of them…It's all Alexandria who will suffer the consequences."
With that, he turned and left the room.
There was nothing else he could talk with Deanne. She could never get it, never understood what was at the stakes here before she had suffered those consequences. And he knew that wasn't something he could risk.
Outside he looked at the town—the green-white houses—and gardens and backyards… He'd placed his hopes in this place, he couldn't let it go. No.
He could never. They needed this place, it was going to be their home; a place his family was going to be safe. He was going to be a father again—he wanted to be a father again. He'd taken so many life now, he wanted to give something back—created something—He wasn't only good for killing… He could still do this. He'd promised them, he'd promised Amanda, promised her a real life.
This—this wasn't the real life. The real life was out there. The hard, cold reality—but he could keep them safe here. No one mattered but them.
"Rick—" Amanda called out at him, walking toward him in the street, "Rick… she did what she thought right," she said, her voice soft, trying to calm him down. It got him pissed even more.
"Have you not listened what I said?" he bit off, waving his arm at her, "If she's wrong…"
Her face twisted at his tone. "I know, I told her, too. I told her even if you're wrong, you're still right." She paused for a second, "And she's not as self-righteous as you think. She knows about Pete Anderson, but turns her head at the other side, hoping the doctor will behave, because she needs him." She paused, "I think it's her husband. He needs the doctor."
Rick didn't think any further then. "Get ready," he ordered her simply, "We're taking it."
Amanda looked at him, then opened her mouth—but before she could say anything—from the house across Deanne's, Jessie threw herself out of the door—frantic and screaming—her face…her mouth and her nose bleeding— then Beth followed her…
They both stared at her… "Rick! Help!" Beth screamed over the sounds of fighting inside the house... "It's Daryl…! He's lost it!"
# # #
It was Beth's idea.
When she had learned his new friend, she decided to meet him, too. She baked cookies and they went to look for Sam. The boy—Daryl had discovered—was a much better company than most of the grown ups he knew, so when he'd asked him if he could go out with him the woods again, Daryl had just shrugged and told him they were going to see.
Daryl had even begun to play with the idea of taking both of them in the woods and started teaching hunting and tracking again, but he wasn't sure what the boy's parents would say—it was a risk but a risk they would all take, Rick was right about that, these people gotta see the real world now. Even Rick still took Carl out in the woods, so he couldn't get soften—and Daryl had never seen any more protective parent than Rick Grimes.
So—maybe—maybe they would see yes. Her mother wouldn't be a problem but the father—Daryl didn't know. "I still can't believe you've got a small fan," Beth said, smiling at him, her cookies at her hands, "I mean, who would guess?"
Daryl grunted out. Certainly not him. "It's so sweet, Daryl. I'm—"Arriving to the house, Daryl stopped Beth, putting his hand on her arm. "Shhs… listen to this," he whispered.
There were…voices—angry sounding voices coming faintly from the other side. They approached to the door carefully, "Are you fucking joking with me?" a male voice asked angrily, his voice coming more clearly as they got closer, "How did you let him go? Are you stupid, or you just having heats? Did you open your legs for them, too?" the man ranted on with the same anger as they stared at each other.
"Pete—" Jessie's breaking voice followed then, "Please. You're not well. You've been drinking again… You promised Deanne. You promised me."
"I promised you nothing!" he shouted, and a shattering followed, as Jessie screamed… then Daryl heard Sam's frightened pleadings…
"Daddy, please…" the boy begged through his cries, "Daddy, please. I won't do it again. I promise I won't. Please."
Another shout came out—and Sam's wails… Daryl felt something in him broke too—and anger swept through him… His eyes blackening, he gripped the knob and opened the door… It was closed… but he couldn't stop… Sam was crying—crying his father to stop… much like he used to do… and Beth was calling out at him, too… but Daryl couldn't listen… he had to go to Sam… he had to save him…
Throwing all of his weight, he hit the door-as hard as he could—and didn't stop—kept hitting until it broke off.
Then he stormed off inside—get the sonofabitch off of Sam—and threw at him at the wall.
"You—sonofabitch," he screamed, and he started hitting.
# # #
Beth couldn't believe it. She just couldn't.
She was just going to meet this little guy—would have a bit of good time with him and Daryl, Daryl really sounded like he'd developed a liking to the small boy and Beth wanted to meet him, a small boy with him… she so wanted to see it… since the time Amanda had told her she wanted to have a baby, the thought had entered in her mind, too… and she'd started wondering… She'd no idea what Daryl would say… what he'd feel… Beth knew how much he cared for the little ones, how much he had looked after Sophie, looked after her even when everybody else had stopped doing it…
Then everything turned to a nightmare…like how it was each time with them, and instead of having a bit of good time, they saw Sam getting beaten by his father.
Beth wanted to cry. She rushed at him, trying to get him back off at him as he corned him off the wall. But Daryl dug his elbow at her side, totally obvious the fact it was her, "You sonofabitch!" he grunted out again, his hands at his neck.
Beth felt her breath knocked out of her—her eyes watering—The blond woman—who might be Jessie came to her side. From her nose and out of the corner of her mouth blood was dripping it. Beth felt like crying. "I'm so sorry—" the woman cried out over the screams of fighting, "He—he learned he went out the woods with Rick and Daryl. I'm sorry."
Beth straightened up as they tried to punch each other's faces… She needed to find someone. She needed to find someone to stop him, before Daryl killed the son of a bitch.
"Go and find someone," Beth screamed at her, running to Daryl again, "Daryl! Stop it."
She tried to hold his arm as his hands held the other man's neck, "Daryl, please!" Jessie opened the door frantically, and from the half open door, Beth saw Rick and Amanda just outside, standing a few yards away from the house—talking.
Leaving Daryl's side, Beth sprinted outside, "Rick! Help!" she shouted at them over the screams, "It's Daryl. He's lost it!"
Without losing any second, they both started running. As soon as they got inside, Rick went to Daryl and got him a tight grip and started pulling him off of the man. Daryl started fighting him off too, "Daryl!" he screamed.
"The sonofabitch," Daryl screamed, "He beat Sam!"
Sam was crying at the corner, his legs pulled at his chest—his head hidden in his knees, his hands covering his ears, as if he didn't want to hear this. Beth almost started crying seeing like this. Rick grabbed Daryl tighter, pulling him away again as Amanda screamed at her, "Beth!" she waved her arm at Sam and Jessie, "Get them outside, now."
Beth rushed to Sam's side and threw her arms over his, and started pulling her upward. Rick finally managed to pull Daryl off of him and Amanda sprinted forward to hold the other man at his place as he tried to lunge at Daryl again as Rick held him back… then something else happened too.
The drunken man turned side and hit Amanda right across at her jaw, and then rising his knee, he kicked her at the groin.
Beth stared at her as Amanda doubled with a scream, dropping on her knees on the floor as Rick suddenly let go of Daryl—his eyes widening as Amanda twisted herself and fell on her side, her legs pulled at her chest to cover herself as the man kicked her again—Rick flew at the man.
Then… Rick lost it, too.
As she rushed to Amanda's side, Beth saw them going through the window.
# # #
His hands on the fucking bastard's neck, his eyes pricking with blood and sweat filling inside from his forehead, Rick tightened his grip where he laid down on the ground—he was going to kill him. The fucking bastard had beat his wife, had beat his child, and as if it wasn't fucking enough, he hit Amanda and kicked his unborn child.
He was going to kill him, be done with it. Be done with all these idiots. He was taking it. He'd enough of these idiots, had enough of their bullshit.
And he'd warned Deanne. He'd fucking warned him. "You kicked my wife!" Rick hissed at him, clutching at him from behind on the asphalt.
"You took my child out the woods!" the man hissed back.
Carl shouted at him, too, "Dad!" as the same time Amanda yelled at him, "Rick! Stop."
But no, he'd done with talking now. He lifted his eyes up, and saw her walking slowly but still hurried toward them, her legs still shaking, a trail of blood slowly slipping out of the corner of her mouth and her lips open—swollen and bleeding—and her sight made him even madder—
He tightened his grip—"Rick! Stop this." This time it was another voice, colder and sterner—and he recognized it. He turned his eyes aside, and looked at Deanne Monroe. "Stop!" the woman ordered at him.
Rick pushed the man off of him, and pulled himself on his knees on the ground. "Or what?" he sneered out and his hand reaching out his back, he brought out his gun and pointed it at them—the barrel slightly tipped down.
"Rick!" Amanda shouted as Rick asked again, and looked at Deanne again, "Or what? You gonna send me off too?"
He was done with this fucking mockery, he was so done with it. "Put the gun down, Rick," Deanne told him placidly.
He shook his head, breathing heavily. "You don't get it," he bit off, lowering his hand down a bit, "You just don't. We told you—warned you but you didn't listen. You pretend like you know but you don't. You want me to protect you? Well, I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna protect you from you." He waved the arm with gun at her again, "Your way of doing things is done," he stated, stressing out the last word, "Starting right now, we live in the real world." He pointed the gun at the man lying sprawled out beside him, "No more taking chances now. We get to decide who deserve to live here, and who don't."
Deanne gave her a stare "That's never been more clear to me than it is right now."
Rick laughed out. "Me? Me? You—you mean me?" He shook his head. "Your way is gonna destroy this place. It's gonna get people killed. It's already gotten people killed." He pulled back at his feet, "I'm not gonna stand by and just let it happen. I'm done with it, Deanne."
"What are you going to do then, Rick, will you shoot me?"
Rick looked at her. Amanda took a step forward, just ahead of Deanne. "Rick," she called him sternly, "That's enough. Put away—" she started, but as the same time Deanne's only remaining suddenly took a step too, and pulled out a gun, at him.
"Drop it!" the man ordered as Amanda quick on reflex pulled out her own gun and pointed it at the younger man.
"Spencer!" Deanne shouted at her own son, as Rick turned to the man, his gun now trained at him back in a Mexican standoff.
Michonne just arriving at the scene stared at them. "Everyone!" she yelled out, "Everyone, calm down and put the guns away. NOW!"
Amanda pointed Spencer at her head. "You first."
"He first—" the man shot back, and Rick opened his mouth but suddenly stopped, seeing a pained expression flicked across Amanda's face—her hands started shaking, and leaning down, she crossed her legs—"Rick!" she cried out, "Rick! Arghhh—!"
And Rick saw a slight wetness painting between her legs red… Her hands with the gun covered her crotch as Rick flew over her… "No… no… no…!" she screamed, falling— Deanne caught her before she collapsed at the ground.
Rick then understood what was happening… the baby—their baby… He looked at the blood between her legs, then turned around and raised his gun at the doctor.
"I didn't know—I swear I—"
Rick pulled the trigger.
A/N: Good lord! I swear writing the end of this chapter with Sam as he pleaded his father-just made me so irked, and sad, that was why I put a warning at the beginning, and Amanda's miscarriage was sad too. For technical details, the pregnancy-the implantation usually start between the fifth and tenth days after the fertilization, and I think I got five days now-she could have a very early miscarriage. Daryl and Sam made me so sad, too, both having parent abuse. That was the reason I wanted to pair them, too, and wanted to have the fight with Pete started with Daryl, then escalate to something even worse.
This chapter was hard to write, as well, especially I really wanted to have both Rick and Deanne being right at the same time, but regardless of it, suffering consequences, like usually in Walking Dead for worse. I might still get Reg dead too, heh, you know me, I'm kinda...changeable.
And what happened in Alexandria before, why Deanne sent men away is also canon material from the comics, I read it online. I think they made the whole Grady subplot from there in the show.
Hope you're still with me, reading and enjoying! Please be kind, and don't hesitate to tell me what you think.