July 1, 2017
- Honey -
In the past, Honey's visits to Alexandria have always been as a guest of the Monroes. Over time, Aiden married and moved into one of the newer homes constructed, further out from the original subdivision. But Spencer never had, and since most of Honey's reasons to visit meant meeting with one of the three remaining in the household, they'd always offered her a guest room.
It's different this time, because this is one of few homes in Alexandria adapted for wheelchair use. Deanna never did regain full mobility after her stroke. Her mind is sharp, but her body never came back to what it was before. She's officially still the leader of the community, but the reality is that everyone looks to Spencer first.
The adaptations for Deanna's wheelchair mean that she offered space to Logan, who'd refused to be transported to Georgia until Honey was free of the Saviors. While he can walk, as he proved when he marched himself toward help, the damage done from the gunshot means the wheelchair is safer, for now, while his skull fracture is still healing. His lack of good spatial perception is far too dangerous.
"Can feed myself," Logan says, enunciating carefully. Honey missed so much of his early recovery that it's hard to hear how slow his speech is, but Cricket assures her it's improved far beyond what all the medical staff expected initially.
"I was just making sure it was cut up," Honey tells him apologetically as she sets his plate in front of him. It's the same thing Reg does without fail for Deanna, but Deanna is old enough to understand the gesture and long past frustration with her bodily limits to grudging acceptance. It's a patience Logan hasn't had time to learn.
He eyes the plate for a minute, relaxing only when she sets a fork in his reach. But he doesn't reach for it, instead staring at her. The jagged scarring along the left side of his head makes her want to rage against the world. "Not guilty."
It's not the first time he's tried to relieve her of responsibility for his injuries since she arrived in Alexandria yesterday afternoon, and as much as she resents not being told he was alive until Negan was deposed, she understands why it was kept for her. Unfortunately, it adds this immense extra helping of guilt that while he was struggling to recover and adapt, that little bastard of a Savior was walking free like a cocky banty rooster.
Negan still being alive is a problem she's steadfastly ignoring until she has to tackle it later. Right now, he's firmly compartmentalized into the same category as all the other prisoners, because she just doesn't have enough energy or mental health to consider what Negan surviving means at this point.
They're the only ones in the kitchen right now, with Eugene taking over the cot Cricket's been sleeping on since they moved Logan from the infirmary to the Monroe house. Last night, their first away from the Sanctuary, Honey had defaulted to the same thing she'd done when she first found Logan on his own six years ago; she curled up in bed next to him. He's not so small that she can chase away his nightmares anymore, but he's alive and life after the apocalypse has taught Honey to accept what limited miracles it offers.
It meant when Logan woke early, Honey did, too, and she's too restless to stay in bed. Eugene had startled, too, neither of them off their higher alertness yet, even after days of well-guarded sleep while they sorted out the Sanctuary. But when she'd pressed a kiss to his cheek and told him to go back to sleep, she'd seen some shred of normalcy return, because he let his eyes slide closed even as Honey and Logan headed for the kitchen.
"Meet today?" Logan asks, carefully maneuvering the fork with his left hand to acquire bites of pancake and drag them through the strawberry yogurt he's always preferred to syrup. He's more aware of his right side now, a sign that Cricket says is promising, but not enough to feed himself with his dominant hand.
Deciding she's pushed too much trying to help as it is, Honey concentrates on her plate even as she nods. "We have to officially add Hiawassee to the Alliance, plus decide who is taking responsibility for the prisoners."
"Hilltop." Logan gets his forkful into his mouth and attempts a grin. "They deserve them."
It is an option that hasn't actually been suggested, so Honey sets her fork down to think it over. Learning what Hilltop did in her absence is almost worse than dealing with Negan. She always expected betrayal from Negan, and considering she plotted against him from the beginning, she'd be hypocritical to resent that in the end, he did turn on her to an extent.
"Might not be fair to give them all of them," she says at last. "And Natania probably would have something to say about the ones they identified as killing her people."
If it were solely Homestead's laws, none of Simon's surviving men would live to be anyone's responsibility. They were the worst of the worst, most not even showing false remorse in an attempt to save their own lives. She suspects Natania's people feel the same way as Homestead or Terminus would.
But Hilltop has been sheltered in a way that most of the Georgia communities never were, secure behind walls and infrastructure the military installed. Homestead had furthered their cushion from the full realities of the outside world by expanding their community and allying so completely. It all came to a head while Honey was trying to find a way to save the workers with the Saviors, and she still can't decide if she's angry or bereft that the people she lived with for the past five years discarded her so easily.
Anger generally wins.
"Can I go?"
The question from Logan makes Honey's train of thought freeze. "To the alliance meeting?"
"Yes."
When she meets Logan's gaze, the teenager almost exudes calm in a way that screams Carol. Every big sister instinct screams no, that Logan shouldn't face the assholes from Hilltop that will be allowed into today's meeting despite being allied only to the other Virginia communities after Carol dropped the hammer on them while Honey was away.
"Are you sure?"
"They need to see. All of them."
"He's right."
Spencer speaking startles Honey, and he smiles reassuringly when she frowns in his direction. He sets his pajama-clad daughter down, Jana runs over to clamber into the seat next to Honey, leaning in to eye her plate.
"Pancakes?" she asks, with the blitheful unawareness of serious adult conversation typical of a four-year-old. Honey pushes her plate over in front of Jana, who picks up the fork and makes a happy noise at her first bite.
Pausing in getting the pitcher of pancake batter out of the fridge, Spencer seems poised to chastise Jana but sighs when Honey shakes her head. He's heating the pan to make more pancakes, so she flashes three fingers at him when he arches a brow. It's not the first time they've shared breakfast, although it will be far rarer now that Honey's headed back to Georgia.
"You really think it's a good idea for Logan to attend the meeting?"
"I do. People understand that people died. They theoretically understand the workers that needed to be saved. But that's different than having someone they know standing in front of them and saying 'this is what has to be done'. Someone most of them have watched grow up. It's completely different."
Logan sets his fork down, food only half eaten. "I want to speak."
It's not Honey's decision, since technically, she's only in the meeting to testify to the attack and about life at the Sanctuary. Until the others acknowledge Hiawassee as its own entity, she has no official standing among the Alliance leaders, not even Spencer's de facto status. What Logan is asking here is for her to help him advocate with the people whose word will put him in that room: their parents.
"If you're sure, I'll make it happen," she tells him, and her reward is a smile before Logan returns to his careful, slow eating.
Jana distracts Honey from the issue by tugging on her shirt. "Can I have some juice?"
"Sure, kiddo." Rising from her chair, Honey fetches a cup, filling it with apple juice and bringing it back to the table for Jana. Hearing the stairlift activate, she realizes that Deanna is on her way, so she moves to fill the kettle for tea for Reg and Deanna.
"Mom wants to talk to you this morning," Spencer says quietly, voice pitched too low for Logan and Jana to hear. "About staying in Alexandria."
Honey stiffens, sighing deeply. "I don't see how that's the best idea. Alexandria doesn't have the room for the remaining Saviors."
Even the Kingdom has to house them temporarily in tents, which no one likes. She'd left Laura, Gavin, Joey, and Amber in charge when she left to come to Alexandria yesterday. What's sustaining everyone is the promise of a home like she'd promised them the Sanctuary would become before the sabotage.
"We can house about half their number with the new development. It'll just mean that some of the others waiting on the new construction have to wait a little longer. With more hands to help, we could remedy that in a fraction of the time it currently takes and expand further." He cuts himself off, even as she can tell the idea is probably as much his as Deanna's. "Just talk to her, okay? Keep an open mind."
"Alright."
Hearing Deanna out is simple enough, a natural consideration to offer when Deanna has shared much of her experience in dealing with complicated situations over the years. Honey's well aware that she's been mentored for years by multiple community leaders despite her stubborn refusal to take a council position at Hilltop. Deep down, part of her knew she might have to step up one day somewhere, and it's not like everyone hasn't been mentoring her the same way they've done Spencer.
For years, she's been the soldier that was needed.
Everything that happened in the last month reinforces the knowledge that now it's time to be the leader.
- Jazz -
Jazz wakes to a warm, giggling weight sitting on his back, and the sheer normalcy of it makes him smile into his pillow. A small finger jabs his spine a couple of times, so he fakes a loud snore, only to hear a soft, 'oh, no', as if MJ hadn't been trying to wake him up. It doesn't dissuade MJ, though, who leans down to giggle in Jazz's ear now.
"Wake up, Tåta." MJ pauses for a long moment, changing from the mock whisper to a sing-song pattern instead. "Wakey, wakey, wakey."
"Tåta! Breakfast is ready. Daddy will eat all the food if you don't get up."
Reaching back, Jazz tickles MJ's foot until his son rolls onto the bed, cackling and crawling to escape while Jazz sits up. "Go tell Daddy I'm up, Mischief."
MJ makes his way to the floor with a little flip and thump that makes Jazz glad that toddlers are virtually indestructible in their flexibility. Sitting up, he checks the clock in the guest quarters he, Paul, and MJ have been occupying since the move to the Kingdom. They're in the loft of one of the barns, meant for shorter visits, like when Jazz used to come to consult with Ezekiel's resident veterinarian, but MJ hasn't been bothered that he no longer has his own room. Living above the animals is MJ's idea of the perfect home ever.
Sitting up, Jazz stretches before passing through the partially open sliding door that separates the sleeping area from the living room and kitchenette. MJ's already eating, sitting in his high chair next to the breakfast bar. He's got peanut butter smeared from ear to ear and eyebrow to chin, but he's humming contentedly as he eats his toast, which is always good for mealtimes. Paul is dipping poached eggs out of the pot on the stove, layering them onto the waiting bread, bacon, tomato, and spinach already assembled on the plate.
"Need any help?" Jazz asks, and Paul tips his head toward the waiting sauce, so Jazz ladles it over each complete eggs florentine as Paul puts the egg in place. "Tricky breakfast for a reason?"
He probably doesn't need to ask. Their usual morning meal is hearty, but nothing that requires poached eggs, steamed spinach, and hollandaise sauce. But he's always loved this particular breakfast dish since the first time his mother made it for him, so much that Paul specifically asked Carol for lessons. Today's going to be a rough day emotionally regardless of what is decided at the meeting in Alexandria, so comfort food is at the top of Paul's list.
Paul's arched brow confirms the answer, so Jazz takes the plates to their seats at the breakfast bar while Paul tidies the plans into a sink of soapy water to soak while they eat. Jazz tops off MJ's sippy cup of milk before pouring water for the adults and taking a seat. He doesn't start eating, preferring to snag Paul close. Paul steps into the embrace easily, arms around Jazz's waist and head against his chest.
"I should be glad that the decision is being taken out of my hands," Jazz mutters softly. "But it feels wrong to make it someone else's problem."
Paul pulls back enough to look at him. "You know they'd let you have a seat at the table. Resigning from Hilltop's council doesn't erase all you know from every angle. Hell, Ezekiel probably would seat you with him if you asked."
"He offered. But there are already too many of my family in the decision making process."
While he's probably better able to be impartial than Honey or his parents, it's that same ability that allows him to absorb and accept whatever decision comes down the line from today's meeting. He'd been too young to be part of the decision to execute the Governor and spare those fighters who survived. In some ways, he feels too young to be part of today's decisions, too.
With a final squeeze of his arms, he lets Paul go so he can get to his breakfast, but his husband doesn't move right away. Instead, he studies Jazz carefully, expression solemn.
"You know there's the possibility that Hilltop will try to make peace with Honey. She might accept it for the sake of the kids there."
Jazz considers that carefully and shakes his head. "She might agree to bridge their way back into the full Alliance, but she would never go back. It would mean turning her back on all those people she's adopted, because there's no way Hilltop will accept the soldiers, even if they might take in the workers."
Hard workers are always appreciated in all the communities, even the more specialized ones like Solomon's and their half-research, half-fishing society. Most don't turn away from skilled fighters, either, because they may have enjoyed a long period of peace, but keeping their immediate areas cleared of large herds of the undead requires a good number of people willing to take them on. But years under Negan's corrupt leadership means everyone is wary that even the intensive interrogation and Honey's personal experience are not enough to completely weed out the bad apples.
"Is the final answer we go where Honey goes?"
They'd chosen Hilltop because Paul felt needed there, and for years, Jazz was needed more in Virginia than Georgia. Over time, Hilltop felt as much like home as Homestead did. Jazz still wakes with a sense of disorientation that this cozy little apartment is not their cottage back nestled nearest the pastures that house the animals he's responsible for. Honey only came to Hilltop because it was Paul and Jazz's chosen home, and following him led to his sister being betrayed at a time when she needed her people's support.
So he nods. Once upon a time, Honey followed his lead on where home was. Now it's his turn to do the same for his sister.
Paul is pleased by the answer, based on the grin and nuzzled kiss to the base of Jazz's throat.
That's the true answer in the end, isn't it? Home is where his family is happy.