A/N: Hello, all. So I'm actually pretty excited about this chapter because, while it's sort of lighthearted overall, there are quite a few little plot points and interactions that I've wanted to write for a while. The chapter song is "Aawake at Night" by half-alive which is...a song that is very dear to me personally, but also such a perfect song for Mason, Eugene and Beth. I thought it fit well here, since things get a little introspective. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing, it really means the world to me. Hope you enjoy.

17. Aawake at Night

Sunlight lit the dust motes in cell block C, casting everything in a tint like an old photograph. Eugene smiled at a man he knew he'd never met, yet when he opened his mouth, the name came to him instinctively.

"Good morning, Hershel."

"Morning, Eugene. Off to the garden?"

"That is correct."

"Well, it's a fine day for it. You see any tomatoes, you be sure to save one for me. I already claimed first one of the season."

He passed Michonne, Carol and Renee on their way to breakfast. Beth waved to him where she sat with Tanner on the steps to the catwalk, trying to solve a Rubik's cube. It was a strange and peaceful collage of Kingdom and Alexandria, at home in this place he'd only ever heard of from his group. It made him feel a little dizzy, but his feet carried him without pause to a cell at the end of the row.

A sheet mottled with stars and galaxies hung in the doorway. He paused and cleared his throat.

"May I come in?"

"Eugene!" came the cheerful response. "Of course! I'm just having my monthly ceremonial orgy."

His lips twitched as he pushed past the curtain. He leaned against the wall, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness; the only light came from a lamp in the corner, by which Mason was lying on her stomach, scribbling like mad in her poetry notebook.

"Terribly indecent of you, Miss Reynolds," he remarked.

She didn't reply at first, too busy getting whatever idea it was onto paper. But when she finally looked up, she beamed.

"Actually, I was being polite. We take walk-ins so I thought you might want to join in."

She winked. He grinned back.

And the vision faded.

Slowly, Eugene blinked awake, reassessing his surroundings and trying to remember where the hell he was.

Alexandria. Right.

He huffed a breath. These dreams were getting out of hand.

Of course, it wasn't as if some of them weren't enjoyable, but they were so vivid and complex, they kept waking him up. Not like his usual dreams at all but like—

Memories.

No. Not that. That was ridiculous. How could he remember something that never happened?

Whatever their cause, they did not provide a restful environment conducive to a good night's sleep. And so he was fucking tired.

Still, he rolled out of bed, glared at his surroundings as though they had personally wronged him, and headed to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

He had to do everything carefully to avoid damaging the bandages on his face and arm. Showering was a trick and a half but he pulled it off. Going on a week since the attack, and Denise said he was healing up as expected. His eye was completely better. Still, it wasn't entirely good news.

"I'm sorry," she'd said. "The burns were bad enough, that…you'll probably have permanent scarring on your face."

He wasn't sure how to feel about that, so he tried not to think about it at all. Thinking about it made him think about other things. Lukewarm bathtubs, cigarette embers, his mother. And all of that was intolerable. His brain cycled back on anything else—the mental inventory of ammo he kept, his future ambitions for the metal shop, how his people were healing up. Even the dreams, impractical as that was.

And Mason. Even when he tried not to, even when he needed to focus on other pressing matters.

Maybe she was the cause of his dreams. It was a silly hypothesis, but…objectively, there were some facts to back it up. They'd only started after he met her, and she was the one consistent thing about all of them. No matter the change in time or scenery.

He supposed it was only logical she be as prominent in his dreams as his waking thoughts. He'd often heard that people falling in—

No. Nope. He didn't think he was brave enough to go there yet.

Besides, that didn't explain the stranger details. Yes, he'd often heard about the prison from Daryl and Beth and Glenn and Michonne, but that didn't mean he knew for certain what it looked like. That didn't mean he could paint out every last dusty corner and yellowed window without ever having seen them. His dreams had never been vivid like this before.

And the people. He'd never had the pleasure of meeting Beth's father, Hershel. He heard a lot about him from her, but it wasn't as if she had any pictures to put a face to those stories. He'd also never had the displeasure of meeting Daryl's brother, Merle, but he'd seen him in dreams, too. Their faces so consistently clear and familiar, as though he really had known them.

He didn't know why the dreams bothered him so much. It wasn't as simple an answer as a lack of decent sleep. No matter the conclusions he came to, they were never satisfying, and he hated leaving things open-ended. It made him anxious.

You're just trying to distract yourself.

Well, he knew that was true, at least. It wasn't as if the waking world of late felt particularly welcoming…

Daryl waited for him downstairs. "Y'look like shit," he said, offering Eugene a steaming mug.

"Always so tactful." Eugene sniffed the mug and blinked. "Is this tea?"

"Mason said it was good for wakin' you up, or whatever. Ginger and rooibos…or some shit." Daryl shrugged. His eyes softened as he looked Eugene up and down. "Figured you could use it."

"I very much can. Thank you, Mr. Dixon."

Daryl's cheeks reddened and he shrugged again, glancing at his feet. "Yeah… Well, c'mon. Let's grab the others."

~m~

After almost a week, it no longer surprised Beth to wake and find Mason had already left. With a sigh, she rolled out of bed to meet her in the infirmary.

As one of the regulars in Eugene's ammo crew, Beth was granted a leave of absence from her usual duties, though she always checked in the morning and at night to make sure she wasn't needed.

She usually wasn't. Mason cleared it with Ezekiel to have Renee sent to Alexandria for the time being, to take some of the strain off of Denise. Since Rosita and Enid already spent a good amount of time assisting her as well, there were plenty of hands on deck.

Beth paused braiding her hair in the bathroom. The mirror was still fogged up from her shower, casting her reflection in a ghostly halo. She felt strange and she couldn't put a finger on why. With everything going on, she supposed that was only normal, but she didn't think that was all of it.

Her eyes drifted to the scar on her wrist. She could still feel Mason's lips there. She could still hear Mason saying, "I've got you, beautiful, don't worry."

They'd slept in each other's arms every night, just like they had on the bus. It didn't always guarantee peaceful dreams for Mason; Beth woke to her twitching and muttering on more than one occasion. But Beth was always there to hold her tighter until the shuddering subsided.

They'd come so far, and yet in some ways it still felt like they were back there on that bus, lost and hiding.

She brushed a finger over the scar. She wondered if Dray could put a tattoo there, when all this mess was over.

As expected, she found Mason in the infirmary, talking books with Eric, Olivia and Noah. She spent a lot of her free time like this. Humming softly to Tyreese, who slept fitfully since the removal of the chest tube. Gabbing with Gabriel about his surprising love of horror movies. Keeping the snake victims entertained with stories to distract them from the discomfort because she "knew how much it sucked ass".

Beth paused in the entryway. It made her happy to see Mason getting along so well with her people, opening up to them where before she'd kept her distance. It was going to feel really weird when Mason went back to the Kingdom…

Her stomach twisted in a knot. Suddenly she knew why she felt so strange.

She was getting used to this. Having Mason around. But it wasn't going to last. Just like last time…

Oh, stop. You're being dramatic.

It wasn't like Mason could just drop everything and come live in Alexandria. She didn't expect her to. But she couldn't deny the selfish part of her that wanted her to. She was tired of getting used to things and then having them taken away...

"Hey, Beth," Renee greeted her. "Here for your daily checkup?"

"Yeah. You need me for anythin'?"

Renee shook her head. "We're all good here. Rosita came in early to help so really all that's left is monitoring everyone. Thanks, though." Then she lowered her voice. "How's Mason doing?"

Beth glanced at Mason, laughing with Noah over something. "She says she's fine…"

"Right." Renee rolled her eyes. "We've been there before. Look, I know you and her have this…past. Mason listens to us Misfits more than most, but sometimes I think she tries to hide things from us because of that. So would you, like, try to get her to talk to Denise? I think she'd respond best if it came from you."

"Oh. Yeah, of course." She wasn't entirely sure Renee was right about Mason listening to her, however.

A few days ago, Denise had announced to the community that anyone that felt they needed to talk was welcome to come to her any time. Eugene and Beth had tried to nudge Mason to do so, but she'd refused, claiming she didn't want to bother Denise with everything else going on. And her reaction was such that they worried she'd shut them out completely if they pushed it. But…maybe she'd be more receptive now. Maybe a little time was all that was needed…

Frowning doubtfully, she approached Mason, who waved her hands excitedly at something Noah said.

"Dude, right? I'm saying! Like, I want the vibe of a young adult novel, but, like, about people my age. Books jump right from teenagers to adults in their forties lamenting their mortgages and failing marriages. I want twenty-somethings not knowing what the fuck is going on."

"So…books about you?" Eric grinned cheekily.

"Exactly!"

"Uh, books about both of us," Noah corrected. "I never know what the fuck is going on, so…"

Mason held her hand out for a high-five. "See? I feel like there's a huge target audience for that shit."

"Well, why don't you write it?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah, you're a writer, aren't you?" Noah said. "You should totally do it. No one's around to tell you you can't."

"Only if we get to be characters, though," Eric added.

Mason chuckled. There was a self-conscious edge to the sound, but Beth figured she was the only one who knew her well enough to hear it.

"Maybe. I don't know. I haven't written in a while."

"Well, if you ever decide to," Beth jumped in, "I wanna be a professional singer. And a dragon-tamer. And I want pink hair."

"Done, done and done." Mason got to her feet. "Alright, guys, I'll see you later. Don't have too much fun expelling snake venom from your bodies through nausea and sweating without me!"

Eric groaned. Olivia rolled her eyes. Noah flipped her off with one hand and waved her away with the other.

"Thanks for reminding us."

They met up with Daryl and Eugene on the way to the gate, accompanied by the rest of the day's crew—Dray, Charlie, Lily, Tara and Carl.

"Morning, crew," Eugene greeted them. "As stated yesterday, I believe it is prudent we dedicate a good chunk of our time at present to sniffing out possible sources of lead and copper. Bronze if we can get our mitts on it. Now, cards on the table, I cannot recommend any categorical wellsprings with certainty, but I have some leads."

"Ha. Nice one," Mason said. The Misfits groaned; the sound was one of long-suffering.

Eugene's deadpan expression stayed put, but his eyes warmed. "Thank you, it was absolutely on purpose. Prospective locations have been mapped out, but as some of them are within the Kingdom's terrain and therefore more familiar to them, I elect the Misfits to navigate."

"Oh, yeah, sure, just have us do all the work for you," Charlie said, elbowing Eugene before she and Dray claimed the front seats of their truck. Everyone else piled in where they could; Mason, Daryl, Eugene and Beth ended up in the cargo bed.

"You just don't like bein' in charge," Beth teased as they drove through the gate.

Eugene shrugged. "Not particularly."

Mason's brow furrowed. "But you're so good at it."

Which was true, Beth had to admit. Eugene had a natural talent for delegating and instructing. At least, when one gave him the chance to be good at it.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "But that does not mean I enjoy it."

Beth frowned. She suspected that had a lot more to do with the fact he felt he shouldn't be telling people what to do. That he had no right to, no matter his aptitude or qualifications. And she was willing to bet that had everything to do with his lie and all the harm it caused.

"I get that," Mason said. "There's things I'm good at that I don't have a fun time being good at."

Something dark moved behind her eyes, just the briefest glimpse, before she shook her head.

"Well, hey, do you at least like being the best bullet-maker in the new world?" She elbowed him. "I think it's pretty badass."

His lips twitched. "Well…I suppose I cannot disagree with you there. And, yes, I do enjoy it on a certain level. I like the challenge. And I have always been partial to working with my hands."

He fell silent for a moment. Beth couldn't figure out what was going on behind his thoughtful expression.

"You know, Miss Reaper, I have been thinking…"

"That you need to stop calling me that?" Mason grumbled. "You've got the whole damn place doing it. That fucking furry called me that yesterday when I was standing guard the other night."

Eugene grinned unapologetically. "I am very sorry."

"Shut up, Porter, you fucking liar."

"No, what I have been wondering is what might be an appropriate name for your scythe."

"An appropriate name for… What?"

"Well, by all accounts, it has been blooded now. It has seen combat. All good weapons deserve a name after their first battle." He paused. "I thought perhaps Wolfsbane."

Beth's eyes went wide. "Whoa, that's perfect!"

"I thought so." Eugene held his hand out for a fist bump.

"What about her fire iron though?" Daryl asked.

"I was unable to spark up the perfect one."

"Wait—spark!" Beth exclaimed. "What about Spark?"

"That ain't half bad."

"Hold it, hold it." Mason threw her hands out. "Are you guys serious right now? Really?"

"Well, Mason, you're from the Kingdom," Beth said. "Y'all literally call Ezekiel 'king'—"

"No, no, no. I mean, are you seriously considering naming my poker Spark? That sounds like the name of a yappy little terrier. 'C'mere, Sparky, time to impale some walkers'. Uh-uh. No way."

"Aw, c'mon, Sparky," Beth teased, poking Mason in the side. "Don't get all fired up about it."

"Hey, listen up, sunshine. I'm the pun master around here, okay?"

"How 'bout Prick?" Daryl drawled, eyes sparkling when Mason glared at him.

"I'm not naming my poker after you, either."

They carried on the entire drive, tossing out names not only for Mason's weapons but each other's. So inevitably the titles dissolved into puns and insults. They laughed more than they had in days. Weeks, probably. And Beth tried not to think too hard about how natural it felt, how easy and simple and right.

Tried not to think too hard that it wouldn't last.

~m~

Their first stop was a large thrift shop. Charlie suggested they start at the most southerly place on the map and work their way back toward Alexandria, and Eugene agreed this was probably best. No one was psyched to spend so much time so far from home, but it had to be done.

They split into groups of twos once inside, although there was a brief moment of awkwardness when Eugene and Beth both turned to choose Mason.

Her eyes went wide, flicking between the two of them.

"Oh. Um."

Daryl snorted in disgust. "Fuckin' Christ…Beth, you're with me. C'mon."

Eugene threw him a grateful glance. Daryl just rolled his eyes.

They bypassed the clothes section for a row labeled "knickknacks", which really turned out to be a bunch of crap Eugene couldn't imagine anyone actually buying. But everything was old, which was a good sign. They began picking things up, weighing them and testing them out.

"Hmm. If I were to get this entire work of art tattooed on my back, what would you think?" Mason asked and held up a picture frame.

It was the silhouette of a woman splayed dramatically toward the night sky, with an instantly-recognizable quote scrawled across the bottom. Well. Almost recognizable.

"Shit for the moon," it read. "Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars."

He snorted so loud Mason jumped.

"What…what the…fresh…fuck…"

But the laughter garbled his words, which got Mason laughing, too, until they were both doubled over, wheezing desperately.

"Miss Reaper," he finally attempted, wiping tears from his eyes. "I will literally give you anything your heart desires if you get that tattooed somewhere on your person."

"Awesome! I've always wanted anything my heart desires." She propped the picture up against a cherub statue. "You know, in all seriousness, I do really want to get another tattoo, but I'm not sure what."

His mind conjured up things it automatically associated with her—gardens and hands creased with soil, dewdrops refracting the morning light, symmetry in a mirror, an abundance of stars. He didn't suggest any of them. Who the fuck did he think he was, a poet?

"I believe I have conveyed a similar hankering to you at a previous time," he said instead.

"Yeah, that's right. Except you said you were scared of needles." She frowned. "But…Beth said you used to help out in the infirmary."

"Exposure therapy. And I suppose…" He suppressed a shiver. "It stands to reason that if I am to stare that particular fear in the face, it may as well be through an artistic mean I have long desired anyway." He sighed. "It's rough out here for an almighty chickenshit."

"Dude, tell me about it." She held her hand out for a high-five but Eugene just glared at her.

"You don't fit that qualification. I have literally witnessed your blatant disregard for your own personal demise."

"What, you think just because I'm willing to die, it automatically makes me brave?"

As soon as the words were out, she pulled back a bit, like she'd said too much. And once more, Eugene thought about those intolerable things—water running cold, blood on stark-white tile and his mother, his mother, his mother.

He swallowed hard.

Mason cleared her throat. "Hey. Let's play a game. I mean, if you want. I'll tell you one of my fears, and you tell me one of yours. You don't have to explain them or anything. And if you opt out, you can just…give me a tattoo idea instead."

She smiled tentatively, and…he thought maybe she needed to say certain things. Certain things that weren't everything. But just enough to feel lighter, for a while.

He thought maybe he needed to say some things, too.

So he nodded, and continued their search while he waited for her to go first.

"Alright," she said, picking up a tarnished jewelry box. "So one of my fears…is making small talk. And I mean, like, literally. I wasn't lying when I told you I had terrible social anxiety. Okay. Your turn."

He stared at the metal candle holder in his hand, barely seeing it, and then murmured, "Blood pressure cuffs."

He didn't have to look at her to sense her surprise. But she didn't pry for answers, not a single one, and he was eternally grateful for that.

"Okay, another one of mine is falling from someplace really high. Jeff—my dad, I mean…forced me to go on a rollercoaster when I was seven and ever since I've hated that weird feeling you get in your stomach, you know?"

"Yes, ma'am, I know the feeling."

Mason hardly ever talked about her father, but what little she'd revealed was enough to convince Eugene that he would not have liked him.

But he didn't ask questions, either.

"Water," he responded. "I will admit, it took me a while to get over that one, but now I am happy to report that I swim like a fish."

They carried on back and forth while they searched for viable metals, piling whatever he approved in a shopping cart. Mason said, "School presentations," so Eugene replied, "Reaching into dirty dishwater and touching some unknown material." Mason said, "Any medicine that makes you drowsy," so Eugene replied, "The sound of keys unlocking your door."

When Mason said, "Getting pregnant," it startled him so much that he blurted out, "Cigarettes," without thinking. He hadn't intended on disclosing that one.

"Matter of fact, that is why, well…that is the sole reason that I started up smoking in the first place," he admitted, rubbing his arm. "To conquer the…aversion."

"Wait, you smoke?"

"Not anymore. I only partook long enough to get over my fear of them. I cannot claim to enjoy the taste. I also cannot deny it was more of a mountain to climb to quit than I expected, but…it worked, in the end."

Which was good, because Daryl smoked quite a bit, and Eugene didn't need to dissolve into a cold sweat every time he lit up.

He expected Mason to go on, but when she looked up after a moment, it was to say, "So…do you smoke other things?"

He pretended to be shocked but it didn't fool her. She grinned.

"Miss Reynolds. Are you referring to the devil's lettuce?"

"Maybe…"

"Because that stuff will damn your eternal soul. Ever heard of reefer madness? Look it up. Educate yourself."

She cackled. "Okay, I'm definitely smoking with you sometime. C'mon, I bet there's better stuff in the back."

~m~

Beth could not stop focusing on the scar on her wrist. She rubbed her finger back and forth along it, pretending it was someone else's skin, pretending she was painting over it with flowers.

It was several hours since arriving at the workshop. She sat on the roof, keeping watch with Tara, Mason, Lily and Daryl. Eugene was still inside, melting the day's finds with the rest of the crew. It was late by the time they finished their search with enough viable metals to call it a successful venture, but no one wanted to head home yet.

"We're already out here," Lily said. "I don't really feel like dragging my ass back and forth again to get done what we could while we're, you know, already out here."

Eugene had agreed easily. Beth had a feeling everyone was antsy to get this part of their prep work done, so they could move onto the next stage of retaliation against the Wolves. It wasn't as if anyone was thrilled by the delay. Waiting to have enough ammo, waiting for everyone to get their strength back. Waiting for the Wolf to heal enough to question him properly.

The good news was that a significant portion of the patients were close to leaving the infirmary. The Wolf was another story. He was awake now, but according to Denise, he was still at risk of slipping into a coma if any more stress was put on his body. Which everyone was undeniably frustrated about.

No one mentioned any of this but Beth could tell they were all thinking it when they radioed Alexandria to let them know they'd be staying overnight at the workshop.

"…And this chick really said, 'Oh, you're not a gold star lesbian? Then you're not a real lesbian'. Like?" Tara, sitting on the opposite side of the roof with Mason and Lily, waved her arms in exasperation. "So I said, 'You ate meat as a kid, right? Guess you're not a real vegetarian'."

Mason snorted. "What an asshole."

"Miss me with that crapolio," Lily said.

"Yeah… But! Doesn't matter now, right? Because, you know, Denise." Tara smiled, her eyes taking on a dreamy glow.

"So you guys met after everything?" Mason asked.

"Yep. You know, I didn't even see her the first few weeks after we arrived in Alexandria, she was so shy. But oh my god, when I did…"

Beth glanced back at her wrist, trying not to feel like she was eavesdropping. She knew they wouldn't mind if she hopped into the conversation. She would've liked to, but for some reason she felt awkward about it.

It wasn't just that she couldn't relate to the stories they were telling, the past relationships, coming out to their friends before the fall. It was…seeing them talk about that stuff with the confidence of people who had figured all of it out. That had been afforded the luxury of time to do so, at least more than she'd had.

They just seemed to know who…they were. As people. Even Mason, with everything she struggled with, everything she kept hidden, she still knew who she was. And Beth didn't understand that.

She couldn't remember a time when it felt like she truly knew herself. Growing up, she thought she was cheerful, happy. She thought she would sing and sit in the sun and laugh with her friends and be the perfect daughter, perfect sister, perfect wife.

When the dead started walking, she felt like stained glass. Fragile from the lie her life felt like before. Fragile, but with the potential for hope again. To let in the color, the light.

When they lost the prison, she made herself into an empty vessel. No tears, no saltwater. Something to fill with memories and nothing more, something that was meant only to keep going, keep going, keep going.

When she woke up in Grady, she wanted to be a pile of thorns. Ripped from her roots but still able to defend herself, still able to make the world bleed. Untouchable, punishing.

When they made it to Alexandria, she felt like a house, lived in and abandoned and lived in and abandoned, over and over and over. Little things left behind by parts of herself she no longer recognized. Dust and dreams and desires she didn't know how to act on.

She realized now that she'd never stopped feeling that way. Even with Maggie and Gracie and Glenn, even with Daryl and Eugene. Even with Mason. She didn't know who she was anymore.

And so it felt strange, everything felt strange. She didn't want Mason to leave. She didn't want the Wolves or anyone else to attack anymore. She wanted her people to live and be happy. She wanted things to stop changing so she could figure everything out. She wanted the how, why, where of her place in all this. She wanted time to know who she was.

Entrenched as she was in her thoughts, Daryl's short little sigh made her jump.

"Gon' bring down every walker in the state if they don't stop cacklin'," he muttered.

She eyed him tentatively, trying to figure out what had him so grumpy. They weren't really being all that loud. He didn't catch her scrutiny; he glared at the three of them with a complicated expression before looking at his feet. Beth knew him well enough to see the longing in his face, like he wanted to join them as much as she did, and suddenly it made sense.

She opened her mouth to say something—but what could she possibly say? That she understood, because she'd felt the same way when her friend, Tammy, came out? When she started dating who she wanted to date, when other people knew the truth?

She wasn't oblivious. She saw the way Daryl looked at Eugene. At first she'd thought she was imagining it—he'd started out absolutely loathing Eugene, after all. But she knew Daryl better than most. And she did understand pretty intimately his position.

But it wasn't her place to say anything. Whether he'd accepted these feelings or not, she had no right to push him on it. Besides, she may have come to terms with her own sexuality, but that didn't mean she wasn't confused as all hell about, well, everything. Considering that, she didn't think she was the best person to be handing out advice at the moment.

Still, she wished there was a way to convey that no one here would judge him, that it was safe for him to talk to her about it…

At that point, Eugene came up to tell them they were about ready to switch groups. Beth got to her feet, casting one last glance at Daryl before convincing herself to let it go. He'd be ready when he was ready, if he ever was.

"Hey."

Mason appeared at her side, smiling and reaching for her hand. Beth's stomach fluttered a little as she took it.

"Hey. Ready to start assemblin' some bullets?"

"Yeah, uh, in a sec. I just wanted to say something."

"Oh. Somethin' wrong?"

"No, no. I mean, not exactly. I just…" Mason rubbed her free hand across the back of her neck. "I know I already apologized for everything that went down in Georgia, but I don't think I specifically apologized for, like, not being there."

Beth shook her head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, not being there when you…told everyone. Beth, I'm so sorry I didn't stick around to have your back, help you through things. I went through that on my own before I met the Misfits, so I know how shitty it can be."

"Oh." Beth felt the old familiar sting but refused to let it sharpen her tone. "I got through it. Everyone was real understandin', so I lucked out. Even my dad."

He was the one she'd most feared telling. Even though she knew he loved her, even though she knew he was a tolerant man.

But all he'd said was, "Bethy. If this is who you are, I'm happy just knowin' you're on the road to embracing it. You can't live your life denyin' a part of yourself. That's a miserable existence. No matter what you learn about yourself, no matter who you love, I'll always love you. You'll always be my little girl."

She wondered what he'd make of her now. If he'd be proud. If he'd know how to guide her.

"I do wish you could've met him, though," she said softly. "I think he would've really liked you."

Mason squeezed her hand. "I wish I could've met him, too."

Beth closed her eyes briefly, letting the pain pass. "Anyway. You're here now. You have my back, and I have yours."

"Always. And, you know, since I'm here now, if you ever need to talk… I mean, about anything. You know I'm always here, right?"

"Of course."

Beth examined Mason's face. Despite the awkwardness of bringing up the past, she seemed pretty relaxed. She wondered if maybe now might be a good time to follow through on Renee's request.

"Actually…um." A wave of nervousness swept over her.

Mason raised an eyebrow. "What's up?"

"Well. Okay. So. You know…I'm always here if you need to talk, too. Right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"And, you know that I'm happy to listen. Really, I am. But…maybe it would help you talkin' to someone else? I mean, someone who actually knows how to help you through it. Um, professionally."

Mason pulled back with a frown. "What?"

"Well, Denise… You know, she did offer to talk if anyone needed to. She's really understandin' and more than qualified, and maybe…she could help you work through some things."

"What do I need to work through?"

She winced at Mason's tone, so cold and flat it was barely a question. It reminded her of the way Mason used to be, before she learned to trust her. But she persevered.

"Mason, I know you're strugglin'. You don't sleep well and you're havin' nightmares. And you…just went through somethin' really traumatizin'."

"I've gone through a lot of traumatizing shit. Never needed a therapist before," Mason growled. "Besides, we're all in the same boat. Why are you singling me out?"

"I'm not tryin' to, I'm just… We've all had access to counselin' since comin' to Alexandria. But you don't have that at the Kingdom, right? And a lot of us have talked to Denise and it's really helped! Morgan and Michonne and Sasha…"

"I can't. I'm not doing it."

"But, Mason, there's…you know there's nothin' to be ashamed of, right?"

"She is correct, Miss Champion," Eugene said, ducking his head when Mason turned her glare on him. "My apologies, it was not at all my intention to overhear. But...I cannot stand by the wayside and withhold my concerns for you when I might have the capacity to help."

"Goddammit, stop!" Mason snapped. "Stop being concerned, both of you! I'm fine!"

"Miss Reynolds. You are our friend. We would not put halt to our concern even if we were able."

"We just want you to be happy," Beth insisted.

"You know what would make me happy? Not talking about this again. Ever."

She turned without another word and slid down the ladder to ground level. Beth shared a distressed glance with Eugene but neither knew what to say.

"Guys. You coming?" Tara called.

Eugene sighed. "Yes, ma'am."

Beth followed him down from the roof, stomach churning with guilt and worry.

~m~

The bullet building shift passed like molasses. Mason worked alongside Beth and Eugene stiffly, not speaking unless she had to. She wasn't trying to be a bitch, she just genuinely didn't trust what she might say.

There was so much building behind her chest, a wall cloud twisting with the pain of needing to break.

Talking to Denise was…probably the smart thing. The reasonable thing. It wasn't as if she didn't like or trust Denise; she was kind and capable and Mason didn't doubt her skill in psychiatry. Plus the thought of lancing herself open, releasing the pressure, was unreasonably appealing.

But it wasn't Denise she owed honesty to. At least, as much honesty as she could spare without going back on the entirety of her vow.

Four hours later, their shift ended. It was getting late enough that the group began determining how they might fit sleep shifts into the rotation.

Without meeting anyone's gaze, Mason turned to Beth, Daryl and Eugene.

"I'm sorry. Are you guys too tired to take this watch shift?"

They glanced at each other, clearly wondering about her dull, cautious tone.

"Nah," Daryl finally said. "We're good."

She nodded. "I'll meet you on the roof then."

The night was still and heavy, the kind of night that would have conjured heat lightning back in Kansas. She looked up, expecting to see stars, but there were none. Clouds must have moved in while they worked.

She tried not to think too hard about what she was about to do, so the fear stayed a vague and unsettled fog in her belly. She didn't want to talk herself out of it any longer.

This wasn't her friends' burden. She didn't want it to be. But she also knew that they deserved the truth, that they needed to know who she was. Beth, Eugene, Daryl…they were so important to her, she didn't want anything but honesty and understanding between them.

When they met her on the roof, she was sitting with her legs crossed, head tipped toward the dark sky, breathing in the summer air.

"I'm sorry," she said as they formed a circle with her. She addressed Beth and Eugene specifically. "That was really shitty of me, what I said earlier. It means a lot, how much… I mean, I know you're just worried about me. I shouldn't flip out on you like that."

"It's alright, Mace," Beth murmured and she tried not to flinch at the nickname.

"Truly, we do understand," Eugene said.

"Well, I appreciate that, but it doesn't give me any excuse to take things out on you. I mean, you…you guys are some of my best friends now."

Beth smiled and reached across the circle to touch her hand. "You're our best friend, too."

Mason nodded, and it was quiet for a moment while she decided where to start.

"Well…in the spirit of that, then, I…" She looked down. "I heard what you said before. But I don't want to talk to Denise."

"But—"

"At least, not yet," she carried on quickly. "I—I probably will at some point, because I know you guys are right. She's a professional, she knows how to handle this kind of stuff. But I want you all to hear this first. I think…I would feel better, if you knew. If it's okay."

She paused questioningly, silently asking permission. They nodded for her to continue.

"There's something that I haven't been completely transparent about," she explained. "And there's reasons for that, but… I'm so sick of keeping the full story from you guys. I trust you all with this part of me. I want you to know it."

Daryl and Eugene seemed to know where this was going, but Beth clearly didn't have a clue. It wasn't lost on Mason that, since Beth was not a part of the council, she hadn't been privy to the same things Daryl and Eugene knew.

She held Beth's gaze. "You asked once, what happened to me after I left you," she said. "I didn't just find Ava's family. I didn't just find the Kingdom, either, I…helped establish it. I was there with the rest of them when we bled for it."

For a moment, she heard Ezekiel's voice in her head.

You bring these strangers around, pledge yourself to them, tell them shit we bleed and sacrifice for every day to keep from our own people?

But they weren't strangers anymore. Things were different now. They were…they were her people, too.

"I told you that we lost some of Ava's family fighting for this place, but it wasn't just a fight. There was a war. Before all this. Before the gardens and the happy little breakfasts, before we were ever in any position to help anyone."

Beth blinked. "A…war?"

Mason nodded, recognizing that this was where things were going to get tricky. She didn't plan on holding anything back…

Not anything, except the most far-reaching facet, the most brutal, suffocating detail.

"Enough of us survived to keep the Kingdom going, but none of us call it a victory. We lost…" She swallowed. "We lost more than we thought we would. And when it was over, those of us left…we all made a vow. That anyone that joined us afterward would never find out. We'd never tell them about the war, we'd never tell them that the people we fought were still around. So that they'd never be tempted to seek revenge."

She glanced at each of them in turn.

"And…now that I'm telling you this, that means you take that vow, too. You can never tell my people. You can never mention any of this to them, for any reason or circumstance. I need you to swear it."

They stared at her, grave and searching and wary of the story she had to tell.

"I swear," Eugene said.

Beth nodded. "I swear."

"Swear," Daryl grunted.

And she believed them. She trusted them.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm sorry I have to ask that of you."

"Just the way it is," Daryl replied. "You do what you gotta do for your people. We get it."

And she knew that was right. It was the only way she could do this.

And she could do this. She could.

"Alright."

She breathed shakily and mustered all the courage she was capable of.

"Here's everything I haven't told you."

A/N: So after this, we are getting into the second interlude, which will delve entirely into Mason's past with the Saviors and how all of that played out. I've got a lot of cool stuff planned buuut... lol here's where I call myself out, because it was recently brought to my attention that there may have been a part of the last chapter that was misleading. I think my dumb ass may have made it sound like Gina and Mason's parents were involved with the Saviors, which I'm sorry to say isn't the case. Mason isn't aware Gina's still alive, and her parents died long before Mason met Negan. It was not at all my intention to muddy up the story like that, and I am so, so sorry for any confusion or disappointment this may have caused. I hope y'all can forgive the mistake. Thanks as always for reading, I truly appreciate you taking the time do so, and I hope you enjoyed. Until next time, much love xoxo