A/N: Hello, all. For the conclusion of this interim, I have chosen "Numb" by Marina and the Diamonds as the chapter song, because I think it's a great one to describe where Mason's at mentally. As always, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing, it means so much to me. Hope you enjoy.
21. Second Interim, pt. 4: Numb
In a narrow, gray hallway, Negan eyed Mason and Ezekiel peculiarly, then turned to his men.
"I thought you said there was a tiger."
"They didn't bring it with them," someone answered.
"Well, shit, I was hoping to see that. Ah, well. Maybe we can arrange a little tour of your Kingdom sometime. You can introduce me."
Mason didn't say anything. Too busy trying to get her shivering under control. Like the rest of them, soaked to the bone, but unlike the rest, painted completely in blood.
Physically, it all had washed away with the rain, but that made no difference. She knew it would never really come off. It was a part of her now.
"Take his royal highness to my quarters. I wanna show Miss Pistol here something important."
Her head jerked up. She reached for Ezekiel and he reached for her, grasping uselessly at each other's arms as the Saviors wrenched them apart.
"No, no—" Ezekiel snarled. "Leave her! Leave her be!"
But they dragged him away, leaving Mason with Negan and four others. She tried to glare at them, tried to feel anything at all. Only a thrumming, animal fear remained.
"Follow me, doll," Negan said, striding in the opposite direction of wherever Ezekiel had been taken. One of the Saviors prodded her forward with her own fire poker. Another mockingly aimed her shield at her.
They passed other people. Mason didn't notice much about them except that they all lowered their heads to Negan. But they met no one as they came to a grim hallway lined with metal doors.
Her heart beat at a new, unbalanced meter. Something about this place, the walls, the shadows creeping in, made her feel trapped.
Negan stopped at a door on the end. Three Saviors raised their guns while the fourth pulled out a key and unlocked it.
Fluorescent light flooded a small, concrete room. Mason gagged as a ferocious stench gusted out, and her eyes settled on a figure huddled on the floor. She thought it was a walker at first before it looked up, and she realized with horror that it was a person.
Naked but for the 'X' spray-painted on their chest. Skin sunken in around their bones. Hair grown long and wild, matted with filth. Starvation etched harshly into every inch of them. Their gleaming eyes wheeled, seemed to grab hers. She wanted to look away and couldn't.
"How you doing there, Louis?" Negan leaned in with a grin. "Louis here was the leader of a group—kind of like yours, but way smaller. They had a bit of a listening problem, too."
Louis wheezed something incomprehensible. Negan nodded like he understood.
"He's on this new cat food diet," he told Mason. "Or is it dog food now? Whichever one it is, it makes this poor bastard reek to high heaven. The pounds sure are melting off, though…"
Bile burned the back of her throat. "You're a monster," she whispered.
"I can be." He turned and seized her chin in one hand. She jerked but he tightened his grip till her cheekbones ached. "You don't know how tiring it gets trying to reason with all these stubborn cunt-fuckers who think they don't have to observe the new rules for this reason or that. No one is exempt."
Without warning, he shoved her into the cell. The wall slammed the breath out of her and panic took its place. Gasping, she reached out.
"No, no, wait—"
The door slammed shut. She scrambled toward the sliver of light leaking through the bottom, but the door wouldn't budge.
Negan's voice sounded next to her. He was grinning, she could hear it.
"Let me know if I got you pegged, doll, because I think I do. You strike me as the type that hurts people. Not on purpose, I mean, not all the time. But listen, you got a lot of your friends smoked out there, in some not-so- pretty ways. I mean, my Lucille really brained that blonde lady. All just because you wanted to prove you had some big brass lady balls. They are commendable, I'll give you that. But not at the cost of your loved ones, right?"
Tears slid down her cheeks. The words crawled in like cockroaches.
"I'm only being brutally honest so you can learn from this shit, that's just the kind of stand-up guy I am, but listen. Here's what's gonna happen if you don't break out of this unfortunate pattern. I'm gonna throw your King and all your precious people into these cells, and I'm gonna let them rot. They will eat only when I say they can, they will shit where they sleep and forget the sun. Maybe I'll rough 'em up every few days, just to keep things interesting. But one thing's sure as hell, it will not be a quick process. And I want you to think about that while you're in here, doll. Because if that day comes—and it might very well be coming soon—I want you to be damn good and sure you know just how much you'll be to blame."
Footsteps faded down the hall. Mason collapsed in the corner, shaking with tears.
You strike me as the type that hurts people.
Fragments of Kelsey's skull Sam and Bea's convulsing shadows Monty's motionless body—
(sometimes you really let me down)
Nick Naomi Gina and Beth thinking she would see Mason again and the future Ava would never have and Dave's pain and Dray's pain and Charlie's pain and Tanner's and Ashlee's and…
(your mother never used to cry like this)
And her mother's.
A low keening left her throat. She thought she might shake apart.
He was right. Intentional or not, she hurt people.
She'd thought she was powerful, back in Gregory's office, winning supplies for her people. She'd thought she was doing the right thing, finally, finally, in staying for them. She'd thought she could call herself Champion and that would fix everything.
She was not powerful. She was not anything.
She squeaked in alarm as a hand grasped feebly at her sleeve. In the cord of limited light, Louis' eyes gleamed pleadingly, his chapped lips moving without a sound. Pity squeezed her throat. She felt the desert once more on her back, dust her lungs. But she was soaked to the bone.
Carefully, she squeezed the water from her hair and clothes into Louis' mouth. It wasn't the most sanitary, but given his current living conditions she didn't think it made much difference. He certainly didn't protest.
When she'd wrung out all she could, Louis mouthed a thank you before his eyes fluttered shut. She trained her gaze on the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
Ezekiel could be lying there instead. Any one of her Misfits, or Jerry, or Rita, Richard. Or—
But, no. Not Ava. Nothing would happen to Ava, she couldn't allow it.
She did not know how much time passed. It could've been hours or minutes or years. But Louis was still breathing by the time the door opened again, and so was she but she didn't feel it.
Someone pulled her to her feet before she could adjust to the light.
"How'd you like that taste of imprisonment, doll? Doesn't look like your inmate was much of a conversationalist."
Blinking rapidly, her eyes landed on Ezekiel, surrounded by the same men who had dragged him away, while Negan carried on.
"Well, pardon the fuck out of me if I'm speaking too soon, but I do believe this has been a very educational experience for you two."
Ezekiel wouldn't meet her gaze, but his haunted expression ghosted through her like winter. Whatever Negan had shown him had broken something in his usual demeanor. He seemed…hopeless.
"Very fucking educational! You look like the two most haggard gutter rat bastards that ever crawled out this side of D.C. Let's test your knowledge." His grin turned steely. "Who do you belong to?"
Mason trembled. Slowly, Ezekiel raised his eyes to hers and nodded. She felt weaker than she ever had.
"Negan," she rasped.
Negan put a hand behind his ear. "Sweet Jesus, that little mouse voice. Say it like you mean it, doll, I wanna hear some fucking passion! Now who the fuck do you belong to?"
"Negan."
Something was spreading through her. A slow fog. A numbness like being buried alive…
"Hell fucking yes." He turned to Ezekiel. "And what about you, your Highness? Who do you belong to?"
Ezekiel's voice was obsidian, stronger than Mason's. "Negan."
Triumph lit Negan's face. "Exce-fucking-llent! We love a happy ending. So now we're finished with this ugly business, let's get you back to your people…if they haven't been washed away, that is. You people sure picked a fuck of a night to do this."
But the rain had moved away. Mason caught faint flashes of lightning in the west as they were led back through the woods.
The moment she spotted the lineup, she flinched internally. They hadn't moved an inch as far as she could tell, except for Dave, curled up in Renee's arms. She couldn't look at any of them properly. Certainly not the bodies on the ground.
She and Ezekiel were shoved back down to their knees. Negan towered above them.
"Some good, good shit tonight. You should be happy to know these two finally came to their senses, so that means you all get to skip on home, where I expect you'll get right to work gathering a bunch of awesome shit for me. Now normally you'd get a month to prepare, but since I'm still a little pissed off you've wasted so many resources for me, I'm gonna be paying you a visit in a week. I reserve the right to make that a permanent arrangement if I feel you aren't fulfilling your side of the bargain, or just whenever the hell I want to."
In one unified motion, all their confiscated weapons were tossed to the ground. All except their guns.
"You know, Deb warned us about your little plan with the bigass herd, but you still managed to catch us off guard. Did it a little sooner than we were expecting. Lucky we have those other outposts I mentioned earlier, we didn't have to waste all that ammo like you wanted. Still, though…it's the principle of it all. I mean, if it weren't for all your turncoats, we might very well have been fucked right up the ass. Guess we'll never know how that might've played out. Anyway, we're taking all your guns."
Mason waited for the void inside her to spark with outrage, but nothing stirred.
The Saviors piled into their trucks, the Kingdom traitors with them, and disappeared into the forest. They were gone, but Negan's presence still loomed.
No one moved for a long time. Dawn light leaked through the branches before Ezekiel rose stiffly to his feet.
"We must…we must return to our Kingdom," he said.
Another long pause, and then Dave broke free of Renee's arms and crawled to his parents. His sobs broke the silence. Something inside Mason constricted tighter and tighter with the sound.
"C'mon, guys," Jerry said, taking his place on Ezekiel's right. She had never seen him look so subdued. "Let's go home."
(you're almost)
"Home," Mason mouthed. Where was that anymore? Where was it?
In pieces, everyone unfroze. Tanner, Richard and Lily went to lower Sam and Bea to the ground. Charlie, Dray and Ashlee hugged Dave, murmuring too low to hear.
Move. The thought was dust, distance. She tried again. Move. They need you.
Somehow she made it to her feet. But not all of her. Part of her would stay here, always, staring at the ground.
They gathered their weapons. Then she, Ezekiel and Jerry hoisted Scott between the three of them. The others split themselves among Kelsey, Sam and Bea. The woods an eternity as they carried the bodies back to the road.
She didn't come back to herself on the drive home. She was sure there was nothing to come back to.
~m~
A week passed. When the Saviors came, she handed them boxes brimming with clothes and food and the rest of their guns, so they must have scavenged at some point. It was hard to remember around the gaping wounds bored into their daily lives.
There were absences everywhere. A spot for Sam in the garden, advising them on the best way to protect their crops from frost. A spot for Bea in the makeshift barn, where she'd cared for the livestock.
Others were harder to coexist with. A spot for Scott and Kelsey, dancing in their kitchen together. A spot for Monty next to Dray, next to her.
Everything became a blur of flinching away from things—the gaps left behind by the people she'd lost, the stinging presence of everyone she had left to lose.
She stuck close to the Misfits, though it felt like holding a hand over an open flame. There wasn't much any of them could offer in the way of comfort, but brokenly, they tried.
She slept and woke and remembered and forgot, and she waited.
She didn't know what she was waiting for. There couldn't have been anything left to find, but still.
She waited.
~m~
"What…did he show you?"
"I cannot talk about that. I will not."
"But—I told you what he showed me. Maybe you shouldn't keep that bottled up."
"Mason. I will not talk about it. I have shared enough burdens with you."
"…What are we gonna do now?"
"We…are going to build ourselves around this."
"How?"
"We just are."
~m~
Not long after their first collection day, Jesus met her at the gate. She blinked at him, trying to make sense of his familiarity.
"Mason?" He said her name like he didn't recognize her. Did she look different? She must; everything inside her felt changed. "Are you—where have you been?"
"I…" She looked around at Renee and Ashlee, who made up her patrol. Neither of them said anything, faces grim "We're going out. Scavenging."
As he took in her response, his face darkened. "What happened?"
She shook her head. She hadn't been doing a lot of talking since the morning they'd made it back to the Kingdom. It felt like too much now.
He touched her arm. She jumped away.
"We're going out," she said again.
"Let me come with you."
"No. Go home."
"Mason, let me help."
She tried to summon up some vestige of the old antagonism they shared, the comfort of that. But she only had so much energy to spare, and she had to put it toward survival.
"Come or go, whatever you want," she said. "We're not going far."
It was silent as they started out, but after a while, Jesus fell into step next to her.
"They won, didn't they?" he asked quietly.
There was a long pause, in which her head filled up with screaming, before she nodded.
Thankfully, he dropped the subject. They spent the day scavenging, and pulled a pretty decent haul, though Mason felt nothing resembling satisfaction.
It was only when they were done and heading back that Jesus pulled her aside and said, "I'm so sorry. I…I wanted things to be different for you."
Part of her was touched by the sincerity in his voice. Most of her just wanted him to stop talking about it.
"If there's anything I can do—"
"There's nothing, Jesus," she murmured thickly. "There's nothing."
When they returned to the Kingdom, he asked hesitantly if she still wanted to meet up the way they had been. But what would be the point? What was the point anymore in training to fight?
"I don't know," she admitted.
"Well…you know where to find me, sweetheart, okay?"
After unloading their finds, she wandered the Kingdom. Aimless circles, past the garden and the courtyard, the barn and the gym. The day shuttered to night and the temperature dropped. Autumn was swelling in the trees and would soon claim the days. God, the years were relentless. It felt like it had just been winter yesterday.
Eventually, she found herself in the auditorium. Ezekiel was likely out on patrol; he'd been running himself ragged trying to fill what gaps he could. So the stage was empty but for Shiva, who raised her head as Mason approached.
She didn't know why. She'd never been around Shiva without Ezekiel before. The tiger was chained up now, but the chain was long, allowing her room to roam. If she wanted to, she could easily jump the distance, but Mason couldn't find it in herself to care.
As she climbed on stage, she held up a hand and said, "Hey." Shiva flicked an ear, otherwise motionless.
Slowly, she reached out. "Hey, girl."
Shiva let out a low rumble. She couldn't be sure, but she thought it sounded less like a threat and more like a greeting.
Then her fingers brushed fur, and Shiva leaned into the touch with another rumble. The ghost of a smile touched Mason's lips.
"Yeah. You're just like my old cat, Kumquat. A little more intimidating."
She scratched behind Shiva's ear, who flopped over with an agreeable growl.
Unexpectedly, her eyes stung. There was something so unchanged and comforting in Shiva's lazy contentment.
"Bea said I wasn't allowed around the livestock. Because I'd get too attached. It was sort of a joke, but…she was right."
In her head, Bea dropped from that tree over and over, thrashing next to her wife. She tried not to let the images in, but it felt like pushing against a tidal wave. Scott's fingers were twitching and her face was being pressed into a puddle of blood and brain matter…
She wiped at her cheek. Her hand went numb, sliding in warm wetness, before she realized it was just tears.
You're not back there. You're right here. You're here.
She buried her fingers deeper in Shiva's ruff. Tiger's fur. Not mud, not…not red.
Shiva let out a long, low growl, and it felt like a purr, and she tried to make her breathing as even.
She was here. She was here.
~m~
There was much to be done, and Mason wasn't sure how any of them found the strength to do it.
Supply patrols in constant rotation, there were never enough left behind to defend the Kingdom properly. Mason tried to take on as many solo trips as she could.
With no guns left until they scavenged more, they had to teach themselves to make and use bows and arrows. There was an inevitable learning curve.
Prep work was needed to prepare the garden for the cold months, grass to guard and condition the soil, and shelter a few late-blooming plants from the frost that would soon be upon them. However, with the exception of a few wintering crops, there would be nothing to pull from it until spring. They would have to supplement their offerings with canned and dried goods, which they were desperately low on. Which meant between supply runs there was hardly any time to prep the garden.
The cycle was endless and Mason wasn't sure how they were going to get out of it. Everyone slept very little; nightmares awaited them when they found the time.
"Well," Jerry said during one the nightly meetings he, Mason and Ezekiel shared. "Now that we're not, you know, at war, maybe we should check out some of those places outside our usual rotation? The ones Renee's uncle mapped out."
Mason had seen the map. Some of the places were several days' journey away, but their potential had been scribbled in the margins, and she had to admit if they were correct, it would be criminal to pass them up.
Briefly, Mason thought of Alexandria. They'd gone to check on it since the herd and found its walls had been rebuilt, whether by the same people or different. There'd been some debate, whether they should see if there might be supplies to barter there. But they were in no position to risk retaliation, not to mention they had nothing to trade.
They decided on Culpeper, one of the furthest destinations, and set to work prepping for the journey.
~m~
Before they left, a meeting was held. Everyone was present, their solemnity weighing down the air.
It was decided, after a short, quiet debate, that the Kingdom needed to recruit more people. They were low on food, which was a definite concern, but they also couldn't continue the way they were with so few among their ranks. They were exhausted already. They would drown under the demands.
Ezekiel had brought the subject up with Mason and Jerry first, and she had argued bitterly against it. The thought of having others here, others she didn't know she could trust with her whole heart the way she trusted the Knights, trying to muster up that kind of faith again with new people… It was almost unbearable.
But now she kept her mouth shut. Everyone seemed to agree with Ezekiel, and deep down, she knew they were right. Never mind that she didn't need to sow discord with her fears, those images she couldn't stifle: Stoney kicking her to the ground, Deb and Vick and Patricia marching over to the Saviors' side…
"I am relieved to know we are all in agreement on this matter," Ezekiel said. "However, there is another that concerns me, one that I have given a great deal of thought to. If we are to bring people in, I believe it would be unwise to reveal to them our bargain with the Saviors. I do not believe they should know of the Saviors at all, if it can be helped. More than anything else, we cannot risk provocation. We cannot risk any newcomers deciding it would be best to fight. Tell me now if anyone is in disagreement."
But no one was, not even Mason. Everyone looked at each other, with varying degrees of the trauma that haunted them, and no one said a word. No one had to. The pain that linked them all was a palpable thing, burning in the silence.
Everyone took the vow that day. That no matter what, they would keep secret the Saviors and the bargain, the war and anything that might expose it. Ezekiel would speak to Negan at the earliest opportunity to arrange for their offerings to be collected elsewhere, and there was relief at the thought that a Savior might never step foot in their Kingdom again.
"My friends, beloved family of mine, thank you," Ezekiel said. "I swear I will do everything in my power to assure you reap the rewards befitting of your struggles and sacrifices." Then he turned to Mason, Jerry and Dray. "Come. We must away, and make all that we can of this day."
~m~
Negan agreed to hold collections away from the Kingdom. Considering they brought back twenty-six survivors from Culpeper, this was especially fortunate. Mason spent the next few days repressing the way he'd looked at her during this meeting, like he knew every part of her and owned it implicitly.
It was the opposite of the way the newcomers looked at her. Like they never wanted to know her, like all they saw was her violence that night at the bunker. It made her feel like a beast moving through them, lumbering, desperate to stay small. But no matter what she did, they kept looking at her like she was covered in blood.
Maybe they did know her like Negan did. Maybe they had her pegged.
She never said anything about these looks. She shied away from everyone as much as she could, so she noticed them less.
The newcomers set to work on all the neglected duties around the Kingdom, freeing Ezekiel and his Knights to embark on longer, farther missions. They brought in a family of four living out of an RV. They brought in an engineer named Randy.
Most importantly, they brought in supplies, stores and stores of them from a warehouse Renee's uncle had mapped out. The pressure lessened, and though they couldn't celebrate outwardly, Mason read it in the clandestine glances of everyone who took the vow.
Fall swept in, ushering in a dry spell. Water was brought in from the quarry. Randy claimed he could construct an aqueduct from it to filtration tanks outside the Kingdom, but that it would take significant time and machinery they didn't currently possess. Until then, he led a crew to expand the walls on the south side of the Kingdom, for more crops and livestock.
When winter came, they were well-prepared, and so the Knights took advantage of any opportunity to stay home. Something tentative blossomed among her Misfits, sunrise pushing through clouds. They started to smile again, brief like light glancing off glass, but still enough to blind her.
Mason couldn't join them.
She roamed woods and nearby towns, looking for something, for something…
She found books about trauma and recovery for her Misfits and never read any herself. She scavenged extra toys for Ava and the other children. She found Dray the tattoo equipment she'd promised, and in return, he adorned her with all the tattoos she asked for.
Flowers, one for each person they'd lost. Tendrils connecting them, weaving gossamer over her body. A small water tower below her right shoulder blade, "wait" printed in the center. She savored the pain of each one, called it penance.
When she was home, she never felt so. She began seeking refuge in secret places, in groves and old buildings she never told anyone else about, watched the first snowfall of the year from the back of a dusty Mercedes. Wondered how long she could keep going like this.
~m~
Two men arrived at their gate a week after that first snowfall, one of the rare occasions Mason found herself home with nothing to do. Ezekiel, Jerry, Lily and Dray had gone to face collection, and they always liked to have as many Knights on deck as possible during that time.
She wasn't on watch, but she spotted Tina and Donovan lead the men in. Something about the way their eyes gleamed as they took in their surroundings kindled a dormant flame in her. She strode over, muscles tight.
"…have a greenhouse, at least in the future. For now, though, we've got our garden—"
"Who are you?" Her voice was a thunder crack, surprising herself as much as the others.
Donovan frowned. "Mason. This is James and Saul. They're just passing through, but they're hungry and wanted to shelter from the cold a bit."
"Why did you let them in without contacting me or one of the other Knights?" She was aware her body was poised in a defensive stance, but she didn't seem to be in control of it.
Saul looked nervous, but James sized her up, intrigued.
"Well, they're not staying, Mason," Tina said. "What's the big deal? We've got food to spare."
She said it so flippantly. Food to spare. Like they didn't bleed for it. Dimly, she noticed people gathering around them and a flash of panic had her breath quickening. That same feeling from the cell in the Sanctuary, except…except now she wasn't afraid of being trapped.
She was afraid she would destroy everything breaking herself out.
After a long silence, she said, "They will wait outside until Ezekiel gets back. He can decide if we have food to spare."
Donovan sighed shortly. "Why the hell are you tripping? We're not gonna make them wait around, freezing their asses off."
"I'm sure Ezekiel will be fine with it," Tina added.
"You know that for a fact?" Richard spoke up. Mason realized that he and the rest of the Knights were gathered loyally around her. Renee caught her eye and nodded to the strangers as if to ask, You don't trust them?
Mason shook her head slightly. How could she trust them, how could she trust…?
"They will wait outside," she repeated brittly. "You don't make decisions for this Kingdom."
"Oh, and are you king now?" Donovan said.
James held up one hand. "Look, lady, we don't want to cause problems, but…we haven't eaten in four days. We need something here."
"Maybe we shouldn't…" Saul started.
"Where else are we gonna find a place like this? No, no, we're not leaving without food."
Mason catalogued their every movement. Saul's darting eyes, so much like Adam's the day she'd gotten that information out of him.
That false information. Those lies.
James with one hand in the air like a plea, and the other stiff at his side.
Was it edging closer to the gun on his belt?
Mason breathed out like a bull, but it did not relieve the pressure building in her chest, the familiar heat wave climbing her shoulders. She met James' gaze.
"Do not."
But his hand twitched, fingers brushing the holster, and she moved before she could stop herself. He wasn't expecting that; he fumbled as he pulled the gun free. He lifted it to waist-level before she clamped a hand around his and yanked it back down.
The gun went off. The bullet ricocheted off the concrete, raising shouts from the crowd. Mason drilled her thumb into the man's wrist until the gun tumbled from his hand. Then she let go, picked it up and shot him. Warmth splattered her face.
Screaming, the loudest from Donovan, Tina… She heard her Misfits calling her name, but they were somewhere else. She was somewhere else.
Saul ran for the gate. Her eyes tracked him, steady as she raised the gun again.
"Mason, no!"
Dave grasped her tightly, cinching her arms. She broke free, but Saul had gone.
"Mason, stop, it's over," Dave insisted.
Richard, Ashlee and Renee stepped in front of her while Tanner and Charlie rushed to close the gate.
Fury rode the wave of her next breath. "What the fuck are you doing? We can't let him go!"
"He ran away," Renee said. "He didn't try anything."
She shook her head impatiently. Did they really think that made a difference?
"You know what happens when we let them go." Each word a jagged snarl. Each word a fragment of what they'd lost.
But around her, people were crying. People were backing away, staring at James' body like they'd never seen one before. Staring at her like they were seeing her all too clearly.
She stared back as her fingers went numb.
His blood was on her face, there was blood on her face—
The gun clattered to the ground and she pulled away from Dave. She shook her head once, then again, but she wasn't sure what she was denying. Everyone gave her a wide berth except for the Knights, who reached for her as if to hold her.
She didn't deserve to be held.
She hurt people.
"Don't touch me," she hissed and fled blindly. She wanted to be away, she wanted the safety and comfort of one of her hiding places, but they were all outside the Kingdom, and the rational part of her knew she had to face the music once Ezekiel got back.
She crawled under a pine tree in their small orchard. The boughs were thick enough to keep out the snow, and it warmed up quickly within their embrace. It was like dusk among them, so little light seeped through the needles. She didn't sleep but she didn't feel awake, either.
After an eternity, she heard people calling her name. Her Misfits. Jerry. Ezekiel. She emerged from her dark womb, raw and flinching from the cold.
"Lady Mason." Ezekiel's relieved voice sounded nearby. She bowed her head when she saw him, awaiting the anger, but he just scooped a gentle arm around her and got her to her feet.
Jerry and Dave called out and Ezekiel hollered back, "I found her! She is alright."
He led her to the auditorium and onto the stage. No one else was there except Shiva.
"Where is everyone?" she mumbled.
"I have asked that everyone give us some space while we sort through this," Ezekiel replied. Rubbed her shoulders vigorously like he was trying to get her warm, then sat her down. "Now. Will you tell me what happened today?"
"Didn't they already?"
"They did. But I must hear it from you."
So she told him, in a halting, robotic voice she did not recognize as her own. He listened gravely until the end and then closed his eyes.
She watched him for a long time. There was no noise but the steady rasp of Shiva giving herself a bath.
"Mason," he finally said. "I…I am so sorry. I have failed you, tremendously so."
She blinked. "How…have you failed me?"
When he opened his eyes, it was like stripping away a veil. "When we met, I swear it was like looking at an old snapshot."
The normalcy of his voice, the absence of his usual kingly lilt, jolted her. She was too stunned to question it as he went on.
"You were…angry. Because things had been done to you, and your loved ones. I could see that. I could feel it. Because I've felt it, too, in my own skin. Anger so bad you know it could destroy you if you let it, and sometimes you want to let it."
He sighed shakily. "When this all started, I was separated from my wife and my two boys."
She felt she was carved from stone. Ezekiel had never mentioned a family before, never let on that he'd had a wife or children…
"See, we were in D.C. at the time, and the city was… There are no words for the chaos. They'd locked everything down to get all the fat cats out, but us little people…we were left to fend for ourselves. And when we lost power, when the food ran out and the decomps started filling the streets, we broke down the barricades to escape.
"We were in a group—not anyone we really knew, just people we fell in with on our way out to fight the dead. There were so many decomps, and so many of us didn't know what we were doing at the time. I fell back to hold some of them off, and my…my wife wanted to stay with me. But I told her to go, you know, 'get to a car, get to a car'. We were running out of time, and I thought…I thought they'd be safer. Safer in a group."
Tears glistened on his cheeks, but his expression was hard. He paused for a long time, and she had the feeling he was editing in his head. Things maybe he couldn't bear putting to words.
"I fell back just in time to see…those cowards…" He clenched his teeth. "To see them abandon my family. And not just abandon, but…they used them as a means to escape."
Another long silence. Mason couldn't help thinking of how she'd run away and left her friends to the herd in Kansas. But she'd had Ava with her. And she'd gone back, tried to help…
"But those people, they didn't make it out of the city. Those men that sacrificed my family, I tracked them down, and I…I let them turn," he said, clearly editing again. "And I holed up with them in an old clothing store, and I kept them. For days and days, I'm not even sure how long. Used them as target practice; that's how I learned to shoot a gun. There was nothing in me but that anger. It was a terrible place to be, and I know you know that.
"And then one day, I don't know how, it was all bled out. I'd worn through my anger and I was nothing but tired. All I could think was, What now?"
Mason let out a breath. That sounded familiar.
"So I wandered. Found myself back at the zoo where I used to work, because that was the only place I could bear to be. That's how I came by Shiva." He smiled a little in her direction. She lay on her side, snoozing.
"Caged up. Starving. I knew how that felt. So I let her out, took her with me. Last thing in the world that I loved…at least, I thought at the time. Not long after that, we found Jerry. And they helped me…feel again. Love, friendship, hope. And I got better."
She nodded, realizing there were tears on her cheeks, too.
"I got better, but, Mason…" Ezekiel leaned toward her. "I don't know if I would have if I'd held onto that anger. I don't know who Jerry would have found, who any of you would have found if I had. And I thought for so long I was able to let it go because of…what I did to those men, those decomps. Because I purged my vengeance through them. That's why I thought I understood why you wanted to interrogate Kurt, execute Adam. That's why I let you. And I am so sorry for that. Because I realize now…I had to choose hope. It wasn't my prize for exacting vengeance, and I don't claim to know if that vengeance was right or wrong. Maybe it was both. But I had to choose what I wanted the rest of my life to be. You have to."
It took her a moment to speak. Her throat was tight. "What if I…can't?"
He reached out and held her hands, smiled through his tears. "I believe in you, Mason. There is a way forward that doesn't destroy you. You just have to find that way, whatever it is."
She didn't know if she believed him. She looked down and said, "So…do they want me kicked out, or what?"
"That's not going to happen." His voice was flint. "They will accept that you are a part of this Kingdom or they can find some other place to live."
"Thank you. But…if it would be easier for you…I can go."
"No. You are my family now. I will protect you." Fire flashed in his eyes before dimming. He let out a small, broken sound. "As much as I can protect anyone these days. I really fucked up here, huh?"
Then he crumpled into sobs, pressing a hand to his face. Mason startled. She had never seen him break down before, not like this. Even when they lost someone, even after kneeling for the Saviors. He put on such a show sometimes it was easy to forget there was just a man behind the King. Just a man trying to carry a Kingdom.
She scooted forward and wrapped her arms around him. She felt the ghost of that night at the Sanctuary, just the two of them against Negan's inevitability, and cried, too.
But when the tears ran dry, she pressed her forehead to his and said, "The world is fucked up. But you are a good king."
"And you are a good champion," he said. "A good person. I hope you remember that, and I hope that you know…you are not alone in this. I am here, we are all here for you, just as you are for us."
She swallowed hard. "Yeah. I…I know."
~m~
He'd been reaching for his gun. She couldn't have let him hurt her people.
But he'd been hungry. Desperate.
She knew what it was like to have survival drive you to desperation.
Maybe there had been a better way to handle things. Maybe there could have been a peaceful resolution. Maybe he was only reaching for his gun because he felt threatened by her.
But she would never know now.
~m~
Ezekiel kept his word and defended her to the newcomers. The Knights did as well. Though no one explained about the Saviors, they told the newcomers in no uncertain terms that the world had changed, and not all strangers could be trusted. As no one wanted to leave the safety of the Kingdom, they all accepted Mason's place in it, but nothing could be done to make them like her.
Though Mason appreciated her family's loyalty, it stung more than ever. Even after her conversation with Ezekiel, she just felt…like the flakes in a snow globe. Erratic every time the world shook, but with nowhere to go. She'd known before the fear and frustration in being trapped, but the numbness of it, the chafing and dragging of the days…
She started having dreams. Of being buried alive under sand, choking as it shifted and settled around her. Pressure building like a deep dive into the sea. She tried clawing her way out, but she couldn't get any leverage, and it was so cold.
The feeling followed her into the waking world, at one point so fierce she doubled over, retching and coughing to get the sand out.
She told no one about the dreams. She was well aware her Misfits still had nightmares. In an effort to hide them, she stopped sleeping among them. She didn't sleep in Ava's room, either. She hollowed out nests under bushes, curled up under the school bus, stretched out on rooftops. The cold matched her dreams.
When the Misfits questioned where she'd gone, she simply told them she'd found space somewhere away from everyone.
She ignored their concern, insisted they worry about themselves first. Slowly, they were healing; she wasn't so gone she didn't see that. But if she stuck around, it was inevitable, she would get them hurt.
She couldn't be like this forever. She couldn't stand it.
~m~
Outside the walls, the dead waited for her like old friends. She strung wires in circles from the trees and sat at their center, singing or playing music, until the walkers came. Some days she dispatched them before they could cross the barrier.
Some days she waited, waited, waited, just to see if maybe she had it in her to let them take her.
The Misfits found her on the latter, and there was screaming and tears after they cleared the dead.
What the hell was she doing?
How could she even think of leaving them?
How the fuck did she think they would be okay if she was gone?
She screamed back, the deepest, primal hurts she'd been holding in the past few months. Guilt tore her up on its way out. She hadn't told anyone exactly what Negan had said about her that night, but she did then, in agonizing, feral sobs.
It was her fault Monty was dead. It was her fault Sam and Bea were, that Kelsey was…
And she was sorry sorry sorry but sorry wasn't enough anymore.
She expected more screaming. She expected them to agree, blame her, rake her over the coals she'd been stoking.
But they held her.
She tried to fight them at first, but they held her tighter, until the fight drained from her completely and there was nothing left but the rawest part of her she'd been denying.
No one screamed then. Everything was a whisper.
It wasn't your fault.
We love you.
We're never letting you go.
A life passed, the world cold around them, but they were warm as a beating heart. It was suddenly clear, the staggering distance she'd been holding up as a shield. How truly, deeply she'd buried herself beneath the numbness.
She didn't want to anymore.
She wanted something more.
Whether she deserved it or not, she wanted something more.
~m~
Every day, choices were a struggle.
Waking up among her Misfits again, forcing herself to eat breakfast with them and Ava, spending time inside the Kingdom, it was all a fight. Some days she was so tired, it felt like pushing a boulder uphill, and when it did, she would think of that peculiar quote in the desert, painted beneath the WALK sign.
"I don't have to keep trying. Remember that, I say to myself, as I keep trying."
But some days, it felt good. Some days, she smiled. Some days, they could get her to laugh. She lived for those.
Winter passed. She oversaw collections and led scavenging groups and kept watch just as she had before. But she tried to feel something more through it all.
She continued gathering walkers, but the reason changed. There were things they could be used for. She started filling her holding house again. When Jerry suggested they feed them to the pigs intended for collection, there flashed the first spark of defiance within her since kneeling.
She shaved her head that night, the side with the scar. Being Champion started to feel okay again.
When spring came, she took her Misfits to the quarry. The water was frigid, but they stayed in just long enough to laugh and shiver and remind themselves they could be alive in ways beyond survival.
The garden flourished with the lengthening days, all thanks to Sam and Bea's teachings. The orchards teemed with fruit and everyone ate their fill. For the first time, they felt prosperous.
She contacted Jesus and they fell back into their old training sessions. It was a healthier outlet on the days she struggled. They traded barbs back and forth and he never mentioned the Saviors unless she did.
Summer came and she remembered what happiness felt like. Choosing it sometimes took all she had, but she fought for that choice again and again.
There were still nightmares, of course. Sometimes she or her Misfits would wake in the night and hold each other until the shaking subsided. Sometimes, when it rained, a chill would trickle down her spine and she would have to wrap her arms around herself, afraid her lungs were filling up with something other than air.
And then one day, when the rain came and she curled up on the couch to sleep through it, she dreamed.
It started the way it usually did. Buried, choking, clawing to escape.
Until her fingers grasped someone else's fingers, and they were strong and unbelievably warm, and she could breathe.
Something poured through her. Sunlight, moonlight, starlight.
May.
The faintest voice.
You're almost home.
When she woke, the rain had stopped, the clouds rolling back to reveal the late afternoon sun. Feeling pleasantly weightless, she grabbed her iPod and headed out, through the gate and out into the woods.
Droplets hung from the trees like molten gold. Bird song bubbled in the champagne air.
This world still existed, she realized. The beautiful one. The one she missed.
She could choose to believe in it again. She could choose that.
The sun came through the branches and dazzled her, and she was struck by the oddest sensation. That after years of tossing about on an ocean, she was about to reach the shore.
~m~
A few days later, she hummed to herself as she set up one of her walker traps. Wired her iPod to her scavenged speakers and let the dead come.
Quite a few arrived. She sang them to her. The sun beat down.
An arrow cut through the world.
Suddenly there were three strangers, fighting away the dead, and for a moment, she pictured James and Saul, Adam and Kurt, Everett and Deb.
But…no. No.
They were trying to help her.
There were still good people. She could choose to believe that, too.
She jumped in to help them. Smiled at one of the men because it felt good to do so and said, "Move, dumbass."
He looked at her the way she'd looked at the night sky, those weeks after the cities went dark. Nervously complimented her fighting ability.
She liked the way he talked. She liked what a smile did to his eyes. She liked his fumbling earnestness and the way he genuinely seemed to want to help, even if he wasn't sure how.
He was only himself, nothing more or less. That was the impression he gave her. And it was just a feeling. He was just a stranger, but…
She wanted to trust again. Maybe that part of her wasn't dead after all, but she'd never know unless she took that leap.
So she chose trust.
~m~
When the story ended, there was silence for a long time. Beth, Eugene and Daryl stared at her, then at each other. Trying to find something to say, or maybe realizing there was nothing to say.
They'd listened without interrupting through the whole thing, except to hold her through the harder parts, the parts she cried through. And they were looking at her differently now, but not the same way the people in her Kingdom did. Not like she was a monster at all. Just more clearly.
By now their shift was nearly over and her voice was raw from the telling. All of her was raw, and yet a distinct weight had lifted.
"Now you know everything," she finally said, but she looked down as she spoke. Everything, but one thing…
Beth was the first to move, wrapping Mason in a tight embrace. "I'm so, so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry any of that happened to you."
Mason closed her eyes. "It's okay," she whispered back. "It's all okay now."
And even though it wasn't, she thought maybe it could be.
Eugene and Daryl hugged her, too, and she felt at home in their arms.
"I love you guys," she said. "Thank you for letting me tell you."
"Thank you for telling us," Eugene replied. "That kind of honesty requires no small amount of bravery. And we...we love you, too."
It looked as though they had more to say, had finally figured it out, but at that point, Lily, Charlie and Dray came up to take the next shift. They could talk later, Mason decided, and gestured for Beth and Daryl to head back down to ground level. But when Eugene made to follow, she hesitated and then touched his arm.
"Eugene. I want to thank you," she said.
He blinked. "For what?"
"For…" She chewed her lip, trying to find the right words. "Well, I was trying so hard for so long to find myself again, and I was making progress, but…there were some parts of me I was afraid were lost forever. I wasn't sure I would ever be brave enough to trust someone outside my family again. But then I met you. And, yeah, I know that's kinda funny since you're the best liar in the multiverse, but…I mean it."
He ducked his head shyly, but not before she glimpsed the gratitude welling in his eyes.
"Well, I…I… Honest and true, ma'am, I am attempting to configure the correct response here and coming up blank."
She smiled. "That's okay. I just, I want you to know…that being around you was like stepping into the sun again. I couldn't believe I could feel that warmth with anyone new. And I felt…I felt like…"
But how to put it into words? That being around him reminded her of how she used to be, how she could be? That some dormant part of her had flickered back to life as she got to know him, and realized that she'd been searching for the way he made her feel for a long time? That when she was around him, she didn't fight to be happy, she just was?
She shook her head and said simply, "You made me feel hopeful again."
A smile lit his face. "I am glad, Mason. More than glad. And if I may, the sentiment is reciprocated. I have been on the path to bettering myself for some time but I have never felt more capable of doing so than when I am with you."
She hugged him again. She couldn't help herself. After a moment, he spoke.
"He was incorrect, you know. You are not someone who hurts people. I know the type and you do not fit the bill at all."
She pulled back a bit, swallowing hard. That was something she still struggled with, something she still had nightmares about.
"Miss Reynolds." He waited until she met his gaze. "You may be the Reaper. You may have the undeniable ability to kick so much ass. But you are a good person. Truly the best I have ever had the privilege of knowing. He may have succeeded in convincing you to shoulder that blame, but bottom line, plain and honest, whatever you did or didn't do, he was the one who swung that bat. He cannot tell you who you are. He does not have that power."
She stared at him a moment before a small, accusing smile lifted one corner of her mouth. "I thought you said you were bad at advice."
He must have sensed she wanted to change the subject, because he just shrugged and said, "Well, I was merely being modest. If you want the full truth of the matter, I am actually a very impressive being who succeeds at absolutely everything I put my mind to. Except for all the failures. Which never happened."
"Because you're impressive?" she giggled.
"That's right."
"Alright, c'mon, Mr. Impressive. We've got a few hours, maybe we can actually sleep."
She followed him down the ladder, nodding at her Misfits as they settled on the roof.
The sight of them brought back a twinge of anxiety, which she desperately tried to shove aside. But it was impossible. Reliving everything had brought it all back to the surface.
She had told the truth. Every morsel that she could bear, she'd told it.
Except…
Except when it had come time to reveal the deal they'd made with the Saviors, she hadn't done so. She had edited carefully around it to make it sound as though their first payment had been the only payment Negan ever demanded.
She couldn't explain why exactly. They knew everything else, knew how dangerous the Saviors were, knew they would stop at nothing to get what they wanted. That they were something to be avoided at all costs.
But she wondered, after this Wolf business was over, if they would avoid them.
If they knew the Kingdom served the Saviors, would they want to fight them? Worse still, would they lose their trust in the Kingdom?
No, no, they had risked their lives together for long enough now, she didn't think that would happen. But what if they thought they could stand against Negan?
That was what you were hoping for when you met them.
Yes, but that had changed. She didn't want Alexandria anywhere near him now. Even two communities banded together were not enough. Telling them about the deal had felt like one thing too much, too dangerous to risk.
Yet for all her attempts to shield them, it still begged the question, one she couldn't stomach entertaining for too long.
How long could they stay hidden from Negan?
They had already done the impossible, living in virtual obscurity like this for so long. A visit from him was long overdue.
As she followed Eugene back into the workshop, the faces of everyone she'd lost flashed once more through her mind.
Somehow, some way, she had to protect them. She couldn't fail this time, she couldn't bear it.
She had to find a way.
A/N: So I know Ezekiel's backstory is pretty vague in canon, but I thought it might be interesting to shed a bit more light on it. He just always gave off the vibe to me like...maybe something tragic happened when shit hit? On that note, however, I think it might be nice to take a break from all the tragedy and get into something more lighthearted? Next chapter will hint at some future plot points, but it will also be a little breather from the heavier shit. So yeah, hope y'all enjoy. As always, super huge thanks for reading and until next time, much love xoxo