XXIII.
Before the sun set down in the horizon, they buried Dwight and Cherry next to Glenn's still fresh grave.
Everything—everything was turning worse. In the last two days, he'd lost one of the best men he'd ever met, lost another two people who he should've protected, and let that sadistic bastard take away his wife from him again.
He had watched Amanda be taken away from him twice—standing—doing nothing.
No more!
He—he couldn't watch that again. Negan had been furious—furious when he'd learned Dwight and Cherry had been with them—furious with Amanda when he'd realized Amanda had fed him a story about how they'd discovered Saviors just like he'd expected.
The bastard was furious—and Rick knew it didn't bode well.
Looking at the graves, the scene passed over his eyes, the way he'd pointed the damn bat at her, ordering her to stop when she had tried to talk. We're gonna talk about this later.
Later.
He—he had to get her out of there… He had to get her out of there now. After they'd confiscated their guns, he couldn't have done anything, watched her leave with them again, but now, Rick couldn't wait anymore, couldn't play along.
The words—the way the bastard had said they were going to talk about it later had sent a shiver down through his spine—the way the bat had pointed at her.
No. He had to take Amanda out of here. The sonofabitch—the sonofabitch was going to do something to her. He knew. He was…disappointed with her, displeased, and Rick remembered the words again… If you disappoint me, I. make. you. suffer.
If the bastard touched her, if he—he put a hand on her—
Rick shook his head a little, trying to calm himself down, trying to… He—he had to something. Amanda—Amanda had said she wanted to stay in—spy on the man, but no way. He hadn't wanted it even then, but now it had become just unacceptable.
She couldn't stay there even a moment longer.
His eyes turned and located Daryl. The other man walked towards him at the feet of the graves. "They can't stay there, man," the hunter told him slowly, "They can't. We gotta do something."
This time without any objection, Rick only nodded. "We need a plan," Daryl said then after his nod. "We—need to find guns—prepare a plan."
Rick nodded. "Take Abraham, Sasha and Michonne and come back to the house," he ordered, turning away, "We need to talk."
Without a word, Daryl nodded back, and started stalked away.
He went to the home back, thoughts and plans running through his mind—They—they had to find a way. A plan… But Amanda was right. Even though—even though they managed to get them out, they still needed a plan afterwards. They couldn't just return Alexandria after they got them out.
And they were going to get them out. Amanda and Beth tonight would return where they belonged. In the arms of the men they loved. Rick wasn't going to let them—punished for what had happened today here.
The last sunlight of the day was fading slowly—so they should hurry. Outside the porch, he saw Carl, waiting for him, still holding Judith.
"You should get in—" Rick told his son tersely, "It's cold—she's gonna get cold."
Carl gave him a look. "You ain't gonna let him stay there, will you?" he asked, and stated, "He's—he's going to hurt her!"
Rick let out a sharp breath. "No. He ain't—" he countered, "He won't get the chance, Carl—" and held his son's shoulder, leaning down, "I'm gonna bring her home. I promise."
Carl gave him another look, and said, "I'm coming with you."
Rick shook his head. "No. You stay here. With Judith—" he said, "She needs you now. I need you now here, Carl. Please. Keep her safe. Do it for me, son."
After that, Carl slowly nodded, "Okay, dad."
They went inside and started waiting for the other in the hall. A couple of minutes later, they all came. "We're gonna get them back, but I need help—" he started, and all in union, they nodded back.
"We know now they might be in the Negan's personal quarters and Dwight had said it was at the top floor before while we'd gone there for recon. We find a way to infiltrate, distract, then get them out. It isn't gonna be easy, but we need to do it now."
"How?" Abraham asked, "They took the guns."
Rick shook his head. He knew. "The cabin in the woods, the safe house. It's on the way to Sanctuary. We go there first, pick up the guns—"
Sasha interrupted, "What if they're gone-it's been a while we haven't checked the safe house."
Rick knew, too. A fact he was beginning to regret. It was winter—so he hadn't wanted to risk it—depending the fact that no one would've ventured that deep in the woods in the winter. They'd cleared out its surroundings. But it was two months ago. A lot of thing could have changed in two months.
Still, they got no other option. Rick shook his head, "If they're gone, then we find guns from somewhere else. But I'm doing it. tonight—" he said, "You saw what happened. Amanda and Beth can't stay for a minute longer."
Daryl nodded as well, waving an arm, "Yeah—we go—no matter what."
"But we still have to smart—" Rick said, "I—I should've located Dwight and Cherry for the first thing this morning, but I didn't." And Rick was not going to let Amanda pay for his mistake. He'd known he should've done it, but dammit, he hadn't really thought Negan would've come back this quick.
Amanda—trying to get them stay coolheaded, not rushing their rescue had made things even harder. It wasn't her fault—but—but… God, Rick needed to get her out of there. This—this was wrong. She had no place there, playing Nikita.
What happens then…?
She asked again in her mind. He-he had to find a way.
A place they would retreat and stay safe until they dealt with those sonofbitches.
They couldn't go either Hilltop or the Kingdom. Because of their affiliation, those communities were going to be the second places they would check after Alexandria. No. They needed someplace else. He thought then the cabin again. They would crash back again after, but the cabin was too small and too close to Sanctuary. Even though they could manage live there for a while until they dealt with the threat and turn back to home, Sanctuary would start a detailed search in the woods after they couldn't have found Amanda and Beth in Alexandria.
No. They—they needed somewhere else—safer.
Safer and away from them.
Somewhere Rick would safely operate taking them down. Seven outposts. They—they needed to deal with those seven outposts first. He didn't know where they were, but he was going to find out. He was. As long as Sanctuary stood, Alexandria would never be safe. They would never get the life Rick had promised Amanda. A better life. For all of them. For their families.
He turned to Daryl. "We—we need to fall back to somewhere else after we get them out—" he started explaining, "We can't return to Alexandria." Daryl nodded, understanding. Rick turned to Michonne then, "You—you'll need to deflect them. They will come to look for us."
"You return to the cabin then?" Abraham asked.
Rick shook his head, "It's too close to Sanctuary. We need somewhere else. Safer."
"Quarry—" Daryl then said, "We cleared out the rest of it while taking stones, but management offices and containers are still functioning. We could make it there. It's far away from Sanctuary."
The quarry, Rick thought. It—it could work. They'd scavenged it when they'd returned for stones, but they still could make it. He nodded. "Okay. We move in fifteen minutes. Get ready."
After they left, alone in the hall with Carl who still had Judith in his arms, Rick tapped his revolver in thoughts. The bastard had let him to carry it even though they'd taken all the rest of the weapons, a gesture of mock—insulting Rick further, making a point that he couldn't do anything even though he let Rick carry a weapon.
Rick swore that one day he was going to regret that decision, too.
One day—perhaps not tonight—but one day he was going to kill the bastard. The most horrible way possible. If he touched Amanda—if he put a hand on her—his thought spiraled down again through his fear and dread, but Rick suppressed them down.
Everything was going to be okay. They would be okay. He was going to bring her back, where she belonged. To her family. To him. To Carl and Judith. He turned to Carl and walked to his son. "Carl, I can't return for a while," he said, even the words hurting him, but he couldn't take them with him. The wilderness—the woods weren't safe. It—it was going to be hard. Even though Carl could manage it, he couldn't do the same thing to Judith again.
"I know, Dad," Carl told him back, "It's okay. I'll keep Judith safe until you come back."
His son was truly becoming a man, Rick thought then, and held him at his shoulder, and hugged him. It—it was hard to leave them behind, but they couldn't stay. As long as Amanda wasn't there, Alexandria would be safe. He—he had to believe that. But if… He shook his head, they—they had already taken too much risks. "If—if something happens her—" so Rick said, "Maggie left for Hilltop today. Go find her."
Carl nodded. Rick bent down and kissed Judith's hair, and left the house.
In front of the gate, Daryl was already on his bike. They all filled in the deep blue Chrysler, Rick trying not to think the last time he'd been in the car with her when they had gone back to Hilltop, to learn about their baby—babies—telling her he wanted her to give him a second child—even knowing that she was already giving him that.
He wanted her back. He needed her back. He so needed her back.
The road was calm for a change and they arrived the intersection where the cabin was laid at their left side. They parked the cars inside the wood line, covering it brushes and forage—giving them an image of broken vehicles before they continued on feet.
He'd wanted only one car so it'd easier to disguise them as they were going to need to walk in the woods to get to the cabin. Beth could share the bike with Daryl, and Rick would have Amanda at the passenger seat next to him, where she belonged. At the backseat, Abraham was going to have to squeeze with Sansa, not a thing the ex-soldier would mind, Rick believed.
The moon was rising high in the sky as they arrived the cabin. The weather was cold, getting even more chilly in the open air. Rick raised the zipper of his heavy suede jacket with fur over his denim shirt's open collar and shot a look at the cabin.
Aside him, Michonne had still her katana, somehow, they'd also left it behind at the houses, and others had combat knives open in the air, Abraham even handling a big metal bar. Rick motioned them, and they circled the place, Michonne going back. Daryl and he took the front, Rick pulling out his Colt Python in front of the door. Daryl pushed the door for him open at the other side and Rick quickly swept the entrance and started walking in the narrow corridor.
The cabin had two rooms and one living spaces with an open kitchen, so it took less than five minutes to make sure that it was clear and still—untouched. Quickly they moved to the room at the back where they'd taken off the wooden tiles at the floor to stash the guns and food.
They finished the job a couple of minutes later, and started to take out the guns and food in silence when Rick heard it fast. A crack of opening door, and soft footsteps over the wooden floor. Rick placed his finger toward his lips in a gesture to make the others stop and took his gun from the floor where he had laid it down.
He slowly raised up on his feet, careful not to make any noise with his heavy cowboy boots and walked out the room. Footsteps were approaching, and Rick got closer to them, and placed his foot over a loose woodblock and it squeaked for a split of second before he pulled his foot away quickly.
Footsteps hastened, and Rick knew whoever was that over there had heard it. He raised his arm, point the gun, and quickly covered the rest of them room—nothing—nothing went in their lives without a complication…the cabin seemed like had been untouched since then they'd left it the last time two months ago—and the moment they had put a foot inside, trouble arrived too.
Somehow wherever you go, death follows you…
Rick pushed away the damn last Monroe's words quickly off his mind, and turned the corner to meet the intruder, his gun still trained—and stopped—
His whole body stopped, his heart stopped, it was like he was casted off stone—not moving an inch, his hand still raised high in the air…pointed at—Amanda, who was point back a gun at him.
No.
It couldn't be. His mind was pulling some shit over him again. He—he must be hallucinating. It—it couldn't be Amanda. He was going to go to save her.
Yet, she stood there too, with the same bewilderment, a gun still between her hands…shivering… she—she was wet—her skin covered with sweat, her hair damp with moist, wet, even down the short black flared dress she was wearing… "Rick—" she mumbled, her hands shaking as she shivered.
She made out a broken sob, "Rick—" and whispered again, her hands dropping at her sides, looking at him with teary glazed eyes, imploring…shivering like a wild wounded animal, wet and trembling open in the woods.
Rick ran to her and took her in his arms.
Where she belonged. His beautiful wife—his beautiful hedgehog with quilted skin but not-so-cold heart… He…he'd found her. He had no idea what was happening, but…she was here, within in his arms…hugging him fiercely. He tightened his arms, bringing them tighter and tighter around her waist, bringing her closer to him—deeply inhaling her scent, hiding his head over her neck. He'd missed her…he'd so missed her—missed her scent, missed the feel of her body—missed her everything.
Tightening his arms further, He lowered his arms downward around under her ass to hoist her up—bringing her core against his bulge—to feel her warm, tilting his hips forth—he already wanted to tear off that damn dress off her and lay her down and take her—just right there—just over the filthy squeaking wood floor—have her, making her his again—no one's but his.
He pulled her eve closer—his hands under her ass groping her, squeezing—and suddenly she violently trembled, and started shaking in his arms, and he heard a groan pouring out of her throat low… "Ahh…"
Rick knew every little moan and groan Amanda made—making her moan and groan under him was his favorite activity, but the sound she had made—no…it wasn't one of pleasure…Amanda enjoyed rough—but she—the way she had groaned… Thoughts spun around in his mind—and he pulled back an inch and looked at her.
"Amanda—" he asked, "What happened?"
And she gave him such a terrified, panic look Rick knew as she took a step back from him, whatever this was it wasn't good.
Panic caught him then too. As others filled in the room, Beth throwing herself at Daryl, Rick took a step forward, coming at her, and with the same terrified look, Amanda took another step back, still staring at him at lost—and at that moment she really looked like a terrified, wild animal in the woods, wet and dirtied, wounded—hurt.
No.
Then, like the wild wounded animal she was, she turned around, and fled.
# # #
"What happened?" Rick asked after Amanda suddenly had sprinted off and ran out of the cabin. Beth—twisted her head aside from Daryl's neck and gave a look at Rick, her heart hurting. She—she wanted to stay in the arms of Daryl, she had missed his leathery scent, mixed with forest under a tang of sweaty, and scent that always reminded her of home.
But her friend needed her… And Rick… Rick wasn't going to like this.
Hearing what had happened. Hearing what Amanda had had to survive. They were all staring at each other…unable to talk, and Beth knew it wasn't only because of the shock of finding each other at the cabin.
Beth didn't have any slightest idea how that had happened, but she also understood that it wasn't important. They were here. And someone needed to explain to Rick what had happened.
Then Rick turned on his heels, and started walking out—
"No!" Beth shouted at his back, extracting herself quickly out of Daryl's arms—his brows narrowed but in suspicion he let her go, "Rick, please." Beth called after the other man, "I'll find her."
Rick gave her a look, hard as steel, "What happened, Beth?" he repeated, his voice had the same steel in his tone, "What happened to Amanda?"
Beth gulped. "She—she's fine. I'll find her. Please. Wait here."
Flittering Daryl a look, Beth started walking out. Outside the steps, she found Amanda leaning over a tree, her back at the cabin so she couldn't see them. With a sigh, Beth walked to her.
"Amanda—" she started, walking around the tree to face with her, "You have to—"
Amanda cut her off, shaking her head, her tears slowly slipping off her eyes, "I—I can't do this, Beth. I can't."
"Amanda—please, be reasonable," Beth said back, holding on a sigh back, "You can't stay here. It's cold."
And she was still trembling, her dress clutched at her skin with perspiration, her hair still wet, the remains of her make-up, eyeliner and mascara they couldn't clean fully before smeared around her eyes more. Beth hated to admit it, hated it to see her like this, but she really looked—pitiful. "I can't see him…not like this," she said, shaking her head again, "I don't want him to see me like this."
"Amanda—" Beth told her with a sigh, walking closer.
"—And…and…h-he will blame himself too," Amanda continued, swallowing down a half sob, "I don't want him to do it."
"Amanda, you can't hide it."
She gave out such a broken, bitter laugh that curt Beth inside. "Can't I, can I?" she whispered out, and tried to laugh more, "I wanted to sit down—couldn't. Hurt so much."
Beth looked at her standing figure against the tree, her chest tightening, but understood what the older woman had meant. She's ain't gon' sit on her ass at least for two weeks, wanna bet? Beth recalled the words from those damn guards and wanted to hit something. She'd never been a violent person but seeing her friend like this was making her furious.
But she really needed to return to the cabin. "Amanda, you can't hide from him forever." She meant they were going to sleep together…they were…
But Amanda shook her head defiantly. "Just now is enough," she muttered, "I—I just can't deal with this now. I—I wanted to see him, Beth—wanted to see him—be in his arms again, so much. When you found me, all I wanted was to go back home…so I could be with him, be with my family. But—but I just can't do it now. I—I can't talk."
"We don't need to talk—" Suddenly Rick's voice came from the other side as he walked around the tree, and Beth could swear Amanda jumped at her feet a little hearing it, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Rick—" she whispered out as Rick gave her a look.
"Amanda, the only thing matters you're back. All of you, you, Beth, our babies…y'all are back," he told her in earnest, his voice low but having certainty in it, that timber that Beth always thought that made people listen to him, "If you don't want to, we won't talk. Not until you're ready. But you're coming with me now."
And he lifted his hand to her, waiting her to come to him, giving Amanda such an intense stare, Beth watched her friend moved like she was drawn to—and took his hand.
He took Amanda back in her embrace again, Beth noticed much lighter than he'd just done—with a such care, like he was holding in his arms a very delicate, a very unique thing that would break at his touch, and started caressing her hair—whispering something in her ear Beth couldn't hear, and slowly Beth turned and left them alone.
As she walked, she started crying too.
Outside the steps, Daryl was there, too, waiting for her. And running to him, Beth threw herself at him, and started crying too. For Amanda, for herself, or for Daryl she didn't know, and she just did—tears running like a flood out of her as Daryl slowly caressed her hair, like Rick had done—rougher and still awkward—terribly awkward at giving comfort, just like Daryl, but doing it for her, the man she loved.
# # #
Rick watched Beth as she left the cabin like a man who knew he was having a nightmare while he slept, but this was no sleep, there would be no waking.
He—he'd been late. He—he couldn't save her… She—he'd done something to her. The damn bastard had hurt her! If you disappoint me, I make you suffer, flashed in his mind, and turning around, with a scream, he kicked the wooden chair beside him with all of her forte across the room.
No one even blinked, only looked at him in silence. The damn bastard—the son of bitch had hurt her—hurt her pregnant wife. Once again Rick couldn't have stopped it—couldn't have done nothing!
But Negan—Negan was a dead man walking! He was going to kill the bastard with his own damn hands, make him—make him choke on his blood. He walked to the window and braced his hands on the windowsills… He couldn't have gotten her out of there—she…she'd saved herself.
Carl was right. He was useless. He could do nothing.
He exhaled a sharp breath out and twisted his hand at the newcomers that stood quite frightened alone in the room, three women and a man with a face half burn. His hands fisting along his hips, Rick stalked to the man. Daryl took a step forward too as if he was afraid Rick would slip off again, and he damn might be. "What happened?" he asked again with a growl that came low in his throat, scratching, "What happened to my wife?"
The man sputtered out, walking back away from him, "I-I don't know. I—Amber I escaped with her."
"Why?"
One of the women, the redhead stepped forward in front of him, holding her hand in front of her like she was trying to stop a beast, "We—we escaped together. Beth—Beth got us out. Negan is dead—" she announced with a short breath, and Rick stared at her, "Amanda—Amanda killed him."
Amanda killed him… The words echoed in him—and Rick still stared…
Amanda killed him… Amanda killed him.
The man had tried to hurt so bad—Amanda had killed him. She—she couldn't have let—but the way she had been—the way she had fled… No. Something had happened. Something—something that had gotten her so terrified instead of facing with him, she had chosen running away from him.
"What happened?" Rick growled out again.
The woman shook her head. "It's—it's the best she shares it on her own time," the woman said, and Rick understood.
Something grabbed him at his chest, pushed into his chest and squeezed his heart. His eyes blackened, and he almost threw up—remembering the way she had groaned, trembled with pain as he'd hoisted her up toward his groin—pushing his semi-hardness into her core, his hands groping her ass.
The bastard—the bastard…he'd raped her.
The room started turning—the world slipping away from him. He stumbled on his feet, walking to the other room, the others still staring at him. Alone, he dropped on his feet.
The bastard had raped her—hurt her—it was all of his fault. His fault. He couldn't have stopped it. Couldn't have stopped—if you put a hand on her, I kill you in the most horrible way possible.
He couldn't even do that now. Amanda had had to do it, too. He couldn't do anything, couldn't even avenge her. The bastard had raped his pregnant wife with twins, and Rick couldn't even revenge it. Amanda had had to take care of it, too. She—she possibly had gone through it—and killed the bastard at the end. But not before the damage had done—so terribly that instead of being with him now, she had fled from him.
Was she in shame? Blaming herself? Was she afraid that what he would've thought of her? Couldn't face with him? Suddenly a thought cut through him—and he thought—he thought what if—He shook his head—Amanda would've never betrayed him—but…She'd killed Negan—that meant—they had to be alone—
Rick pushed the thoughts away. Negan—Negan had hurt her, badly, had done something to her she was terrified to talk about—perhaps Amanda just let him do it—let him—the babies—she couldn't have fought—His stomach heaved—bile rising his throat…
He pushed thoughts again. He—They were back. There was nothing more important than that. They—they would figure it out. He just wanted her back now. She was—she was having it hard. She shouldn't be outside. It was cold, and she already looked like she was a hairbreadth away from fainting.
He left the cabin and started looking for them. He saw Beth outside in the wood line, trying to speak to her, as Amanda stood her back at the tree. They didn't see him approaching, and Rick slowly closer to the tree, and heard as Beth said, as he stood at the other side of the tree, "Amanda, you can't hide from him forever."
"Just now is enough," he heard then Amanda's tired voice, her tone having a strong emphasis on now, "I—I just can't deal with this now," she told the younger woman and Rick felt the blame and hurt finding again worse than inside the cabin.
"I—I wanted to see him, Beth," she then continued, her voice so low and soft, having tears inside, "wanted to see him—be in his arms again, so much." Rick felt someone was tearing off his chest again, squeezing his heart, the words… That was what should've been… she—she should've been in her arms now. No matter what. They were together again. Nothing was more important than that. Whatever hurt she might have had Rick was going to wrap them himself. He should at least do that.
"When you found me, all I wanted was to go back home…" she confessed, and Rick understood—it was really Beth who had gotten them out, "so I could be with him, be with my family. But—but I just can't do it now. I—I can't talk."
Then they wouldn't talk. "We don't need to talk—" He walked out from his spot, walking around revealing himself to them.
"Rick—" Amanda whispered at her again with the same look she had had back in the cabin, a terrified, wounded wild animal—and Rick swore-swore that he was going to heal her back.
"Amanda, the only thing matters you're back. All of you, you, Beth, our babies…y'all are back," he told her, and taking a step further to her, he looked at her directly in the eyes, "If you don't want to, we won't talk. Not until you're ready. But you're coming with me now."
He held out his hand for her, still looking at her—she had to come back. Whatever happened, happened, they couldn't change the past. They—they still had to live—take their revenge, lick their wounds, heal themselves. And Rick would. He was going to put it back together. She still got him. He should at least do that. He took her in his arms gently, and caressed her hair, "I'm gonna put it back together, Amanda. Nothing will hurt you again. I promise," he whispered into her ear, "I'm gonna take care of you, baby."
