Ch. 47
AN: So these past two weeks have been shitty, my grandfather was in hospice and he died on Thursday. So I threw myself into this story and now everything's planned out and ready. I'm gonna start getting to work on more chapters and hopefully, I'll have more out soon. Also just a heads up for the rest of the story. So, I like Rick, I think he's an amazing character and a complete badass, but with the way this story is going, Rick won't be seen in the most favorable light. He's going to be a bit rash and somewhat shortsighted at times for perfectly, in my opinion, justified reasons. Anyway, that was my little informative spiel, now on with the story.
Six Years After the Savior War
Rain poured down from the sky the water gave the night the appearance of silver falling from the sky as the light of the moon reflected from within the fat drops of water. A rider rode slowly though the abandoned streets, his face protected from the rain by a long-brimmed hat and his body by a long coat wrapped around his shoulders. His horse's hooves clopped lightly against the ground and echoed over the sound of the rain drops colliding with the ground.
He rubbed his eyes and dug his spurs into his horse lightly ushering the great beast forward. The streets were how he remembered, but so much was different. The buildings he had once called home were now abandoned and rotting. His people forced to abandon them after he had left. But he was back, and he would find them, he would protect them again.
Present Day
Rick studied the map of the current known Savior positions and rubbed a hand through his beard as he tried to think of possible ways to fight the Saviors and their numbers. Sam had the good idea of pretending to be Simon's men and attacking a Savior outpost. With luck, it would take the Saviors some time to figure out exactly what was happening. Maybe Negan would kill one of his own lieutenants and a lot of Saviors would go down in the fight. Make their job easier.
Rick nodded at the thought and smiled as he envisioned a quick and brutal victory against Negan. His Saviors dead and Negan's head on a pike above Sanctuary. Rick felt a surge of anger fill his body as he thought of Negan. Even imagining the man dead brought on a wave of anger. Negan had killed Glenn. He had taken one of his longtime friends from him. So, he would take everything from Negan.
"Rick," he looked and saw Sam walking over to him. "Have your people found guns yet?"
Rick felt a twinge of anger direct itself at Sam. The boy had been fighting the Saviors for a while, yet he acted as if he was the only one in charge. Not to mention he never wasted an opportunity to remind people that he had bent the knee for Negan. Now he constantly antagonized him to have his people find weapons because Negan had disarmed him. Ricks' fist clenched as he thought of the light taunts and passive aggressive quips. Sure, they were on the same side, but Sam should have understood that Rick didn't have a choice when it came to being disarmed. Negan had more men and guns, had they rebelled then, it would have been a slaughter.
Rick let out a long sigh and closed his eyes. He would let it go for now. It wasn't the time to let small things get to him, there was a war to fight.
"Michonne and I are going to go on a run to find some guns soon. We just need to make sure that everything'll be alright here without us."
"Rick I've been running the foundry for a few months now," Sam laughed at Ricks comment and looked to the map scanning it.
"I know you've been running this place, but with what's coming, I think maybe you should let someone with more experience take over for a bit," Rick said, his voice fluctuating and going low towards the end. Sam stood up straight and raised an eyebrow at the words and crossed his arms,
"Someone with more experience?" Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes. "What you think I can't lead this place?"
"I'm just saying Sam, you don't exactly know how to run an outpost."
"And you don't know how to fight a war," Sam shot back. "I mean you did bend over for Negan and let him take all your guns. Plus, you've never fought a war. I mean the Governor doesn't really count, he killed his own people, and we lost the prison when he attacked the second time. You know now that I think about it, you shouldn't be on our little war council since you've lost pretty much always lost."
"Don't," Rick hissed, his eyes now aflame with anger. He moved to Sam and the two men squared up on one another. They glared and Rick ground his teeth together as he glared at the young man. "I fought the Saviors before you got here. We wiped out one of their outposts, we killed them."
"And look where that got you!" Sam laughed humorously and shook his head. "Glenn's dead, you have no guns, Daryl got taken hostage and had to escape. So, what? You thought you could come to my place, take my guns, and order me around? Rick, I'm not some kid that you can order around anymore. That kid died on the side of the road you left him on."
Rick scoffed and turned around shaking his head. He ran his hand along his beard and balled his fist in anger. "What would you have done. Huh? Low on gas, food, ammo, and everything else. What would you have done?"
Sam narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. "So that's how you justify it? Leaving me out there for months on end by myself. Letting me lose my fucking mind? Making me go back to that fucking animal I was? You left me, and when you were safe, you didn't even look for me! Yeah, Merle and Beth told me. They told me they went out as often as they could. But you, hell you could give a shit. Long as you're comfy in your house, with Michonne, fuck the world, right?"
Rick rushed forward and shoved Sam back into the wall behind him. Sam hit the stone wall and brushed himself off his grey eyes glaring at Rick.
"You don't know what happened. You don'tknow what we were going through."
"The fuck I don't!" Sam said his eyes wide and red, his voice grew hoarse and he stood before Rick, his fists clenched and shaking. "I lost you! I lost all of you! You said I was like a son, and you fucking left me! You didn't even look. You only call when you need something rick. So, I'll tell you what. I'll fight this war for you, and all I ask is you leave me the fuck alone."
Sam turned and stormed out of the room leaving an angry rick behind.
Night provided the perfect cover for travel. Thirty Foundry Soldiers marched on the dirt roads of Virginia. Their feet crunched against the dirt, leaving a low cloud of dust where they marched. They were quiet and their eyes were focused ahead as their thoughts wandered to the upcoming fight. Sam walked at the head of the column Merle to his left and Rory to his right, each of the fighters had their own armbands with their homemade patches stitched on the bands.
Sam's eyes glanced around the woods, the dark twisted trees watching the column as they made way. He had time to study every branch and every bend of the branches, his breathing was steady, but his pace was slow, the columns pace was slow. He shook his head and sighed in frustration. His people weren't used to marches like this. Cars would have been faster, but his people didn't have the resources to field that many cars, let alone have that big of a gas reserve. Marching would have to do, gas was reserved for missions to get bullet making supplies.
"How much farther?" Rory asked. They boys gun was being shifted around his arms, and he glanced around constantly, his eyes shifting all over the place.
"Shut up," Merle laughed, his gun slung over his shoulder and a bayonet attached to his prosthetic. "Stop complaining and just keep walking."
"We'll get there soon Rory. Perch shouldn't be too far now."
"You trust Rick to do his part?" Merle asked.
Sam shrugged and sighed as he thought back to their talk. "Maybe, I don't know. Rick seems like he just wants revenge. I'm scared that he can't think beyond anything past killing Negan. He's got tunnel vision you know?"
Merle chuckled and shook his head. "Yeah, Officer Friendly seems hell-bent on getting revenge in Negan."
"And what do you want Merle?" Sam smiled at the man. "Why are you here?"
"I used to only have my brother. Me and him, just a couple of assholes going 'round causing all sorts of trouble. Then we found y'all, fought together, killed together, spent half a year on the road together. You helped me out of a tough spot, and here we are. You're as much a brother to me as Daryl is."
"You're old enough to be my dad Merle." Sam laughed at the end of the impromptu speech.
"How old are ya' anyway?" Rory asked, his curiosity always wondering the exact age of their leader.
"I'm bout twenty-one. I was seventeen when all this shite started," Sam said the beginning of the apocalypse feeling as if it had happened decades ago. "Crazy to think about it. Merle and I never of met, let alone get along, Rory would be some ass hat wrapping up high school—"
"And you'd be getting drunk in some bar and screwing around in Ireland," Merle said. "You'd never of met Blondie."
"True. Crazy how the apocalypse could bring some good." The three of them chuckled and tried to imagine what life would have been like had everything not gone to shit, but it was simply all generic. College, bars, nine to fives; or in Merle's case simply bars and being an asshole. And yet there they were. Marching and getting ready for a fight. Life was indeed crazy.
The three continued to laugh and let their minds drift away from reality for a brief second. They allowed themselves to be normal men instead of soldiers, survivors, and killers. But the sound of gunfire in the distance snapped then back into reality.
"What the fuck?" Sam said reaching for his radio and quickening his pace. He clicked the transmit button on his radio and stared out into the distance. "Rick, is that you? Did you engage?"
"Fucker wasn't supposed to engage until we were in position!" Rory said, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Might of got overzealous. Big dick contest with Paddy Riley," Merle said motioning for the column to go faster, his prosthetic waving in the air.
"Sam, we're fighting the Saviors, we need you in position now!" Ricks' voice called out over the radio.
"what the fuck Rick? You were supposed to wait for us to be in position!" Sam roared into the radio as he began running.
"Shit happens, "Ricks' voice growled back.
"The fuck it does!" Sam hooked the radio onto his belt and shook his head in anger. "Double time! We got a mile to the perch!"
The men and women of the foundry picked up their pace and were red faced and breathing very heavily half a mile into the run. Sam's forces were good at fighting, but they were used to hit and run attacks. Hitting the enemy quickly and then leaving. Waiting in a position for hours until the Saviors arrived and then attacking. Their stamina left much to be desired but they were still deadly.
The perch they were heading to was the top of a small hill overlooking a small Savior compound. The original plan was for Sam and his fighters to sit on the perch and signal Rick to attack. From there Rick would attack and Sam's forces would fire down at the Saviors that were in cover. It would have worked perfectly, had Rick not gotten too ambitious. Now Saviors were mixed in with Ricks men and Sam didn't want to risk shooting anyone on their side.
"What are we doing Paddy?" Merle asked as he glanced down at the fighting. The Savior Compound was an old gas station with wooden walls around it and a sniper's nest resting on the roof of the patio that covered the gas pumps. Ricks men were currently inside the walls, courtesy of a truck that had smashed the gates open. The men were fighting, some in minor fire fights and some in melee, using machetes, spears, knives, hammers, even their bare hands.
"We need to go in. Rick jumped the gun." Sam shook his head and looked back to his fighters. "Alright, fix bayonets! We're gonna go save their asses! Show 'em what real fighters can do!"
Despite their minor fatigue his men roared with agreement and were quick to fix their bayonets to their rifles. The long knives glowed brightly in the moonlights and seemed just as eager as the weapons wielders to go and shed Savior blood.
"Let's go!" Sam said fixing his bayonets to his rifle and charging down the hill to the fight. He could feel his heart racing and heard the sword at his side moving wildly with each step ready to be used in case of emergency. His fighters roared around him, their guns facing forward and their knives pointing toward the enemy.
They arrived at the battle and charged toward the fractured lines, the Saviors and Ricks forces intertwined. Ricks men had tied pieces of white cable around their arms, the Saviors had no such markings. Sam charged a man wielding a bloody hatchet standing over the body of a man with a white cable around his arm. His bayonet pierced the man's stomach and Sam was quick to pull out the blade and slash it downwards over the man's chest to his navel. The knife let out a long line of blood and as it reached the fleshy gut, intestines and internal organs slipped out and fell to the ground.
The man fell back and Sam moved and saw a woman firing from the window of the gas stations main building. She fired an AK and Sam saw several of his and Ricks men duck for cover and a few of them get hit. Sam raised his rifle and fired small bursts into the window watching as the woman took cover. He advanced quickly and was careful with his ammo count. As he reached the window he moved his gun into the window and aimed it downward and sprayed a few bullets into the room. As he pulled out his rifle and ejected the magazine and loaded a fresh one he saw the battle raging around him.
One of his soldiers fired his pistol into a Saviors' head, the bullet tearing through the bone and brain. The bullet exploded out the back of the Saviors skull and a burst of red poured out of the large exit wound that the bullet caused. Sam's fighter turned and ran to cover his pistol's slide open, the magazine empty.
Sam turned and saw another Foundry solder run her sword through another Savior. The shining steel coated red as it exited the man's back. The man's mouth opened in a horrendous scream of pain as droplets of blood dropped from his mouth.
Sam rose from his position and fired his weapon toward a group of Saviors taking cover behind a car whose frame was resting on cinder blocks. Sam oved to them through the chaos that thee disorganized battle brought on and quickly sprayed them with bullets before turning and looking for more Saviors.
The battle raged and the sun slowly began to rise. Bodies fell, blood pooled around the feet of those that survived, and soon Sam was walking amongst the dead, checking for survivors that were Saviors. Some of the bodies had begun to reanimate and were quickly put down.
Merle stood by a truck, blood completely covered his face. Mud and gunshot residue was caked onto his body. His prosthetic was still dripping red and his rifle was slung over his shoulder. There was a large gash on his left shoulder that was bandaged, the white gaze holding back the blood.
The truck he stood before was piled with some bodies. All of them bearing the Foundry patch on their shoulder. Sam sighed as he counted the bodies, his stomach dropping with every number he counted. He ran a hand through his blood matted hair and felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he reached the final number thirteen.
"Everyone else accounted for?" Sam asked, his throat tight and eyes closed.
"Yeah," Merle said quietly. He cleared his throat and shifted as he looked over the carnage that had engulfed the small outpost. "Rory's doing inventory of the Saviors shit. Said they had a small stock pile of ammo."
Sam nodded and turned to the building. "Good. Take this truck, get back to the Foundry, start proper burials. Rory and the rest of our guys will head back soon enough."
Merle nodded and moved to the driver seat, another Foundry soldier getting into the passenger seat. The car drove off, the bodies covered and protected from the hot Virginia sun.
Sam moved through the compound and searched the faces of those that had survived the battle. There was a man sitting on the ground, his eyes looking ahead into nothing, his hands shook and blood covered his hands. He seemed to be breathing rapidly and trying to blink tears from his red eyes. He shook his head and Sam could see the twitching of his lips and imagined that the man was trying to rationalize the carnage to himself, trying to justify his actions, hoping to find meaning in the blood.
Sam looked away and walked on, he walked over bodies and around men and women collecting guns, ammunition, and any other weapons they could scavenge from the Saviors. Rick seemed eager to get his hands on more guns than what Sam had loaned out to him. Sam ignored them as he walked into the gas stations building and saw Rory standing by a stack of crates and boxes with a clipboard.
Rory had cleaned himself of most of the blood as soon as he was able. His face was still smeared a bit with blood and his hands seemed to quiver every so often, the pencil in his hand making random scribbles on the paper in front of him.
"Rory," Sam said walking beside the boy. "What'd you find?"
"Ammo, food, some gas they were storing over there," the young boy motioned over to several oil drums nestled in the corner. "We uh—Rick's trying to take everything. I figured that we could split it fifty-fifty. Rick just walked away."
Sam clenched his jaw and looked outside for Rick and then back to Rory. "I'll talk to him. You know where he is?"
"Roof," Rory said his eyes never leaving the paper.
Sam moved his hand to the boy's shoulder and squeezed. "I get it, Rory. But this is war. We did this for months—"
"Not like this," Rory interjected. "When we did it, we were always in the trees. We didn't, stab them and watch the life leave them. We—we didn't have to cut 'em up so bad that we can't— we couldn't—"
Rory breathed in a shaky breath and Sam could see tears welling up in his eyes as he pressed the lead of the pencil against the paper so hard that Sam thought that the clipboard underneath would snap in half.
"I didn't think it would be like this," Rory finished.
"What did you think it would be like?" Sam asked. "Remember when they killed Damien? When they killed men under your command? Do you remember what it looked like? What did you feel? What we're going to do is that times a thousand. War isn't just hiding in the trees and ambushing Saviors. War is last night. War's killing a man so close that you feel the blood flow out of him, and then do it to another. We're at war Rory. This is what it is. And there's no changing that."
Sam left Rory with his words and went towards the roof access.
Sam moved to the roof, climbing up a ladder and taking a step onto the gravel that covered it. He saw Rick sitting at the edge of the building, overlooking the clean-up of the courtyard. Most of the bodies from their side had been loaded up. The wounded had been a priority, they had been evacuated as quickly as they could move them once the battle was over. The Foundry soldiers that had been killed were all gone, all that remained of the dead were the Alexandrians, which were being loaded, and the Saviors, which were being piled.
"Having fun?" Sam asked as he approached the man. Rick continued to face forward and look out at the bodies. "We lost people last night. More than I thought we would. Because of you. It was supposed to be simple. Get their attention, draw 'em out. Then we'd hit them from the hill. We had a vantage point, we could've taken 'em out quick, but you changed the plan. Why?"
Rick didn't move, and Sam stood behind him shaking with anger, for the first time since before the battle he felt tears well in his eyes. The drops of water felt hot, matching his anger and ready to fall.
"You got my men killed. You got your men killed. For what? Huh? Pride? Fucking, revenge? I know you're angry Rick, hell, everyone that's fighting the Saviors is. But at least they aren't fucking up, letting their rage get in the way of planning. Of executing the plan. Fucking hell rick, think next time. Or else I won't have you fighting with us when we take on Negan."
Rick shifted and moved to stand up. He turned and Sam saw the aged face of Rick grimes. The specks of grey in his beard and hair, the weariness in his eyes. But there was still energy in them yet, still strength in his features, still a commanding presence to his posture. Yet Sam didn't feel the need to shy away from the man anymore. He didn't feel the need to duck his head or avert his eyes. No, for the first time, Sam felt as if he was equal to Rick.
"I told you Sam shit happens. From where you had us, we were visible to them. They would have started firing any minute. I knew you weren't in position, so I had to improvise. You're the one that wasn't in place!"
"Fuck you, Rick," Sam roared at the man taking a step forward and glaring at the older man. "That was the point. You were supposed to take fire and draw them out of their hiding places, then we would hit them from the perch and take them out! You had plenty of cover and guns, but no you decided to knock on their front door with the semi. Sure, we were a bit late. But you are the one that charged."
Sam turned and made his way to the ladder anger filling every part of his body, the urge to yell and punch Rick rising and threatening to override his senses.
Before he began descending the ladder he turned to rick for a final time. "Get your head screwed on right. If you don't then stay out of my way. Me and my men can handle this war fine without you idiots fucking up my plans."
Machine gun fire ripped through the building and ten men were dead with the first volley. Simon was quick to his feet, strapping on his gun belt and lacing his boots in record time. He moved through the satellite compound and made it to the observation post that had been built after Rick had attacked it.
"Who the fucks firing at us?" Simon shouted as he moved through his now awake men. The sky was pitch black and the red lights of the outpost shined brightly illuminating the road and area around the Outpost. As he reached the observation post he was met by the sight of trucks, men, and guns. Almost immediately his stomach dropped as he saw the leader.
"Hey there Simon! You forget about me?" Negan smiled and walked into the red light, Lucille in his hand and resting on his shoulder.
"Negan! What are you doing?" Simon demanded, his voice quacking in anger.
"You back slidded Simon. You tried to rise above your place." Negan said. "Now to all of you in there, that don't want to be on a sinking ship, I am more than happy to let you get off, so to all of you smart bastards in there that don't want to die! Come on out!"
Simon watched as men exited the satellite station, abandoning him for his supposed back sliding. Only three men stood beside him by the time all of his deserters were with Negan.
"What are you doing Negan? What the fucks going on?" Simon demanded.
"Oh, don't play dumb with me Simon. Regina told me all about your attack. I mean it makes sense. Raiders hitting us, men dropping like flies, and you think you can take my place." Negan smiled and twirled Lucille. "I mean, I get it! But you fucked up Simon. And now, well now ya' gotta fucking pay!"
"I didn't do shit!" Simon shouted at Negan. "My men and I, we never attacked anyone, especially not another outpost. Come one Negan! You know me!"
Negan nodded and pointed Lucille up to Simons observation post. "I do know you, Simon. Indeed, I do! Open fire!"
The bullets came so quickly that Simon didn't have time to duck. He was struck eight times, the bullets tearing through his body quickly and powerfully, that his body was thrown back and made a dent in the wall behind him. The last thing that he thought, was why the hell Negan thought he attacked Regina's outpost.
Two Weeks Later
"Bullshit!"
"Rory—"
"No Sam, you know that's bullshit. What this bastard is saying, he's fucking wrong!"
"Excuse me?" Rick asked glancing around the room, half amused that Rory was speaking up like that.
"Rory—"
"No Sam. That isn't right. What if the Walkers break through? There are kids in there!" Rory screamed. "What if they break through and some kid gets bit? What then Sam?"
"It's war," Sam said, his eyes looking toward the map and not looking to Rory.
"What if Negan did that here? With Beth here?" Rory snapped.
"Don't."
"Why not Sam? What is it only war when you do it to someone else?" Rory shook his head and looked around the war room. "We can't hit them like this. If we do then we're no better than the Saviors. Trap them in Sanctuary, starve them out until they surrender. What happens is they don't surrender?"
"Why wouldn't they?" Rick asked, scoffing at the notion.
"Would you?" Rory shot back. The young boy shook his head one final time and moved away from the table. "There's got to be a better way than starving them out like this. All this is gonna do it get innocent people killed and if that happens then how are we better than Negan?"
He stormed out and left the group there to digest his words.
"You need to reel him in," Rick said to Maggie's agreement.
"He's right though. We do this then it could lead to some innocent people getting hurt." Sam admitted hesitantly, though he wasn't completely bothered by the fact Saviors would die.
"You care?"
"You don't? Rick, what happens after the war? What happens when we beat Negan, what, we just leave the Saviors to their own devices? That's not gonna work. If we start killing innocent people, directly or indirectly, then we're fucked. They'll hate us more than they already will. It's not smart."
"It'll end the war. It'll let us kill Negan!" Maggie objected slamming her hands on the table.
"Sure, but it'll lead to rebellions in the future," Sam told them. "The English, they invaded the Irish and subjected them. Hurt them, beat them, humiliated us. They never tried to help the Irish, never tried to integrate us, instead, they treated us like shite and what happened? There was rebellion after rebellion. Do we want that with the Saviors?"
"Then we'll integrate them. We'll make them apart of the communities after we win." Maggie said hoping to resolve the issue.
"Yeah, after you may or may not have committed a war crime that'll build resentment," Sam told her.
"There aren't war crimes anymore!" Maggie screamed. "Sure, we can come up with some sort of charter, our own little Geneva Convention but only after we kill Negan! Before we do that, we go after him with everything we have, we beat him until he's dead and we win!"
Sam looked to Maggie and then to Rick who was quiet and seemed to be nodding along with Maggie.
"Really," he laughed. "That's how you want to start this out. Tell me, Maggie, would Glenn be okay with this? Would he be okay seeing you willing to let innocent people die just so you can get revenge?"
"Don't you dare," Maggie warned, her voice low and angry tears welling up.
"What? Don't I dare criticize you? Jesus, Maggie, how would Glenn feel, knowing you used his name to justify slaughter?"
"Enough!" Rick declared. "We're doing this plan. We have the majority vote."
"Two against one." Sam shook his head. "Fine. I guess I'll go and get another vote them."
"My King, I beg of you; Lord Samuel is certain of victory. If we were to meet with him and engage the Saviors then we would without a doubt crush them!" Darrius stood before the King and knelt before him as he pleaded with the King to mobilize. He had left the foundry and had taken up residency in the Kingdom before the war had officially started. He had spent the entire time trying to get the King to mobilize, to take the fight to the Saviors. But it had been to no avail.
"If what you tell me is true then Samuel and Alexandria are doing well against the Saviors—"
"Only due to their deception. The false mutiny that they instigated caused Negan to eliminate one of his commanders, divert resources and manpower. Now that they are aware their outposts are now back to full strength," Darrius explained to the King. "Please your majesty, it is imperative that we join with them. A new campaign is set to start soon and we could very well be with them and put an end to Negan's tyranny!"
Ezekiel was about to respond but Jerry bursted through the doors red and out of breath as if he had run from the front gates.
"My King! My King! Lord Samuel! He's here! He requests and audience!" the room went silent and Darrius looked to the King, who slowly rose from his throne. He ran a hand down the length of his clothes and adjusted his jacket before looking to Jerry and nodding. Jerry left and the King retook his place on the throne taking a calming breath and appearing as regal as ever.
The room was quite after Jerry left. No one spoke and no one attempted to move, afraid of disturbing the thick tension that was in the air. Sam hadn't informed anyone that he was coming to visit and Sam was anything but spontaneous.
The doors to the Throne Room opened and Sam entered. He wore a long brown coat and his sword was strapped to his belt, the sheath poking out from his coattails. His rifle was slung behind him and Darrius could see his gun holstered just underneath his left arm. As he neared the stage that the Throne rested on he kneeled and bowed his head.
"King Ezekiel. It's been too long since we've talked." Sam said as he rose up from his kneeling position and clasped his hands behind his back. "It is good to see you."
"And you as well Lord Samuel," Ezekiel said causing Sam's eyebrow to go up at the title Lord. "It was decided a fortnight after you had left and begun work on The Foundry. I deemed it so you were no mere Knight, but a Lord with your own men and Holdings."
Sam nodded at the assessment and inclined his head slightly. "I thank you, my King."
"Of course, Samuel. You have done a great many things for the Kingdom. You have fought and been hurt in the line of duty for the Kingdom. We are very grateful," the King spoke. "But if I may ask. Why are you here?"
"The war my King. The war with the Saviors. The Foundry calls for your aid." Sam said solemnly.
"From what Darrius has told me your campaign has gone well until recently you have brought heavy blows onto the Saviors, even caused confusion and disorder amongst their ranks."
"We have. But, we have joined forces with the Hilltop Colony as well as Alexandria to fight the Saviors, and there are some, disagreements as to how to proceed. As much as the Saviors disgust me and I wish to see them punished, what better men are we if we are to treat them just as they had treated us. My allies disagree. They wish to subjugate and eliminate the primary Savior leadership, as well as most of their officers. No matter the cost."
"And you are opposed to this?" Ezekiel asked leaning forward.
"I wasn't. But, I recently came to that decision, with the help of some of my friends as well as thinking on the history of the old world." Sam said, "Though the world has changed, the lessons of the past are still as valid as ever. I am here, King Ezekiel, to ask for your help. You are more moral, and wiser than any man I have ever met. So, I beg of you, King Ezekiel, please help me. Help me keep this war from turning into a massacre of the innocent."
The morning after Sam had left for the Kingdom, Beth woke up while the sky was still dark and the only light that filled the room was what she got from the candles in the hall that the night guards used while they patrolled the halls. Beth sat up slowly and felt her stomach flip as a wave of nausea hit her. She rose quickly from her bed and moved to the water basin near her bed. Her clammy hands grasped the side of the sink and she felt acidic bile rise up her throat and spill out of her mouth into the basin.
Her body quaked as she threw up and she felt lightheaded as her body expelled whatever it was that had caused her to be sick. As she finished expelling her stomach she took several deep breaths and gasped as she spit out the last of the vile taste from her mouth. She moved away from the basin and sat on her bed wiping her mouth and calming down from her bout of sickness. It had however become routine at this point. For the past week, she had been sick like this.
Beth rose from her bed and began her normal morning routine. By the time she was dressed and ready for the day the sun was beginning to crest the horizon and so she made her way to the mess hall where several of the non-combatants or, as Abraham had taken to calling them, support crew were busy cooking and preparing breakfast for the rest of the Foundry.
Beth walked into the mess hall and took her seat beside Merle who was talking animatedly with Abraham about some sort of event that had occurred to him while he was in the army. Beth had said good morning and received acknowledgments from the men before they went back to talking. Beth tried to keep up with the conversation but she felt more fatigued than normal and found herself almost dozing off more than once. She shook her head and tried to wake up properly, but her body simply seemed too tired.
"Alright here you go, served fresh!" a cook said as he and several other cooks walked around with trays of food dropping off plates where they were needed. "If you want to thank anyone for the eggs thank Prim over there! Her last scouting mission found some random ass abandoned homestead."
A round of cheers went up for Prim who blushed at the attention and raised her glass to the praise. Beth laughed a bit and rubber her eyes as a plate was put down in front of her. She smiled and took a whiff of the eggs, and then promptly blanched as a wave of nausea hit her as if the smell of the eggs seemed to attack her senses.
"Oh god!" she said as she rose and began to move away from the mess hall as the scent seemed to fill the room. She got away as quickly as she could, but the scent was still affecting her and she rushed into the bathroom feeling the need to vomit again. Her stomach, being empty, left her with the feeling of dry heaving and she stood over a toilet feeling her stomach twist as it tried to eject what wasn't there. There was a knock at the door and Beth jumped.
"Beth, you okay?" Maggie asked, her voice muffled through the door.
"Fine," she said, her breathing still heaving from the dry heaving. "I'm fine."
"Beth, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," Beth lied. She had a suspicion. "I'm fine."
"Beth let me in."
She sighed and opened the door letting Maggie into the small bathroom. Her older sister gave her a look over and narrowed her eyes. "Are you alright?"
"I said I'm fine Maggie."
"You're lying to me? Beth just tell me what's wrong!"
Beth rolled her eyes. Ever since Sam had come back into the picture, she had been very intrusive. Before Sam had arrived, Maggie had been in her own world, hardly a care in the world apart from Glenn but it was only when Sam had come back that she had remembered she was a sister.
"I'm fine Maggie," she tried to move out of the bathroom but Maggie cut her off.
"No, tell me what's wrong."
"Maggie—"
"Beth I'm just trying to look out for you."
"Well don't," Beth said, exhausted by the circles they had been talking in for the past few weeks ever since Maggie had come to the Foundry to help in the planning.
"Beth I'm just trying to look out for you. Now just tell me what's—"
"I think I'm pregnant," Beth blurted out, barely containing herself from screaming.
Maggie's eyes widened and she took a stop back colliding with the door. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came and she was standing there in a state of shock. S, of course, she knew that Beth and Sam were physical in their relationship, but for this to happen, well, she didn't think any older sister was ever ready to hear that her younger sister was pregnant.
"Are… um, are you sure?" Maggie asked when she had found her voice.
"No, but, I'm late. And I've been sick in the mornings for the last week. I'm not certain, but I'm pretty sure." Beth shifted her feet and looked down to the ground, her hand moving to her stomach.
"Right," Maggie said unsure of what to say exactly. "And… it's, uh, it's Sam's?'
"Maggie!"
"I'm sorry Beth I, it was a stupid question," Maggie screwed her eyes shut and took a breath. "I, I'm not sure what to say Beth."
"Don't say anything then. Look I know you hate Sam, but I love him. And when this damn war over we're having this baby together." Beth could tell that Maggie was biting her tongue, but she let it go, she had practically dropped a huge bomb on her sister. "Come on Maggie."
She pushed past the older girl and began going about her day, the thought of a child bringing a smile to her face, a small her and Sam. The image brought warmth to her soul, a peace in the times of war.
Sam arrived at the Foundry with a grin on his face, he moved through the motor pool and found a small crowd had gathered to see him and his companions arrive. The King grinned and trailed behind Sam, nodding at some of the former Kingdomers that had gone with Sam to fight the Saviors. Some of the Alexandrians fighters were confused as to who the King was, but they remained quiet and the crowd parted as the men walked through and made their way to the war room. The workers and Soldiers were soon back to work, Sam and the King moving quickly, eager to get the planning out of the way, eager to bring the war closer to an end.
Rick and Maggie stood over the table, talking in whispers and flinching when they turned and saw Sam. Rick stood up straight and tilted his head at the sight of the King.
"Sam, who's this?" Rick asked carefully.
"Rick, Maggie, I'd like to introduce you to Royalty." He said smiling. "This is King Ezekiel. The King of the Kingdom. And here's here to help."
Rick and Maggie looked to one another, unsure as to what to say. They had heard stories about the King, enough of the Soldiers traded stories, and Sam had spoken about the man, praising him for his generosity and strong moral compass, though he did say that it would impair his judgement at times.
Rick made the first move, walking forward and outstretching his hand. "Rick Grimes."
"A pleasure," the King said smiled as he grasped the man's hand. "Samuel has spoken very highly of you."
"Right," Rick said slowly releasing the Kings hand and backing away.
"Maggie Rhee," she said reaching her hand out as well.
"You must be Sam's beloveds' sister am I correct?" Maggie nodded stiffly and glanced uncertainly at Sam. "Well it is an honor to meet you as well. The both of you. Though I wish it were not under such, callous conditions."
The two nodded and moved around the table.
"We were just going over the plan to trap Negan in Sanctuary." Rick said motioning to a crudely drawn map.
"Samuel has told me of this plan," Ezekiel said stiffly.
"You don't like it?" Maggie said crossing her arms.
"It leaves much to be desired," Ezekiel said diplomatically.
Rick scoffed and turned away from the table. "You too huh? Look this is the only way to do this. Negan's in there, we trap him then hit his outposts then we force a surrender. The four of our groups together will force him to surrender."
"A man like Negan won't surrender Rick," Sam began. "He'd keep fighting until he can't. Even with your guy on the inside, there's no guarantee that he can get the workers to unite and take down the Saviors. A lot of innocent people could die."
"Since when have you cared about innocents dying?" Maggie blurted out. "We do this, we end the war, it's that simple Sam."
"It is," Ezekiel said quietly. "Trap them a few innocents might die, but the war would end, and the world would move on. But could we? Could you live with yourselves knowing that you sent innocents to their deaths, directly or indirectly?"
"This is war!" Maggie said slamming her hands on the table.
"It is, but even in war killing innocents is wrong." Ezekiel declared. "But what would we teach those to come if we ended the first major conflict of the New World with such bloodshed. This would cause us to become the very people we desire to eliminate."
"Why don't we put it to a vote?" Sam asked smugly.
"Fuck you," Maggie said rolling her eyes. "We're doing this plan; Rick and I are."
"Give us time to come up with a better one," Ezekiel said quickly placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. "If our plan doesn't satisfy you, then we will consider yours."
Maggie and Rick looked at one another and Rick shrugged a ghost of a smile on his face. Maggie clenched her jaw and breathed deeply exhaling the anger out of her body. She took in the words and then looked to Sam.
"Fine, Rick and I were talking and it should take a week or two for the herds we need to merge, let alone drag 'em out to near Sanctuary. But if you two don't then come up with a better plan by then, we do it our way." Maggie said taking charge of the room and then walking out.
Sam sighed in relief when she left and looked to Ezekiel and nodded thankfully. It wasn't much time, but two weeks would be plenty to come up with a plan.
AN: So this is the longest chapter I've ever written for this story. It was a lot if I'm being honest, but I figured you all deserved something for sticking with me. If you haven't check out my book on Amazon, THE OLD WORLD written by me, Edward Clyde! Please review and I'll see you all next time! Review! ~Pacco1