Author's Note: So, as of the posting of this chapter, the season 6 finale is less than a week away and I am already emotionally compromised. This has nothing to actually do with the chapter you're about to read. I just need to put that out there.
xoxo - Holly
"Do not let spacious plans for a new world divert your energies from saving what is left of the old." — Winston Churchill
"We should talk."
Rick was glaring daggers at Jesus, his gun aimed at the man's face, and without caring that he was standing there naked as a jaybird. Sneering, he could see Jesus posed no actual threat. If he'd wanted to harm either him or Georgie he would've done it by now and probably while they'd still been asleep.
"And it has to be now?" Rick demanded, lowering his Colt. "You couldn't wait until we came to get you?"
Seeing Rick taking a less defensive stance, Georgie did the same. And, like Eve in the Garden after eating the apple, she became all too aware of her nakedness. Immediately crouching down, she grabbed for the bed sheet that had half-fallen off the bed on her side and pulled it up to wrap around her body. Rick, meanwhile, either didn't care about being clothing-deficient or he was so wrapped up in Jesus' unwarranted "visit" that he hadn't even realized he was standing there with his ass and other things literally hanging out.
"Sorry," Jesus apologized, dropping his hands to his sides. "I figured, hey, it's morning. Thought I'd come find you. Didn't realize you and the missus would be so…indisposed. Again, sorry."
Rick narrowed his eyes. "The least you could do is avert your fucking eyes from my wife," he spat, not realizing the slip of his tongue.
Georgie noticed, though.
This would be the first time he'd referred to her as such, at least in her presence. She didn't know if he had done it before when anyone else was around. She couldn't deny she liked the sound of it rolling off his tongue. The last time he'd made a Freudian slip was back that night before they'd reached Alexandria, when they'd first met Eric and Rick had basically admitted he loved her to Eric and Aaron.
"Do you maybe want to wait outside so we can get dressed?" Georgie questioned.
The entire time, Jesus had kept his focus — mostly — on Rick's face. When Georgie spoke up, however, he let his gaze flit over to her. "What—?"
"Eyes on me," Rick growled.
Jesus seemed a bit amused by all this, but Rick? Not so much.
"Sorry, sorry," Jesus repeated, throwing his hands up defensively yet again. "Yes, sorry, I'll…I'll go wait in the hallway."
"That would be a good first start," Rick replied, as if he was talking down to a child.
His nakedness finally seemed to hit him then, and it was mostly attributed to the quick glimpse Jesus stole followed by a smirk. Shoving his right in front of his crotch, Rick gripped the handle of his gun tightly with his left hand and glared back at the overly dressed, younger man.
Once Jesus had slipped from the room, courteously shutting the bedroom door behind him, Rick and Georgie immediately looked at each other; considerably flustered by what just happened.
"That's a first," Georgie muttered, dropping down to find her clothes.
"What is?" Rick asked, doing the same.
"Getting woken up by a virtual stranger while I'm in the nude," she replied, dropping the bed sheet onto the bed and slipping quickly into her underwear.
"Would it surprise you if I said that wasn't the first time for me?"
Georgie snickered. "What was the first time?"
Rick didn't bother with underwear and went straight for his pants after he set his gun down on the bed. "Just before Lori and I got married, I used to share an apartment with my friend Shane."
"Let me guess, you had Lori in bed and Shane walked in on you?"
"If only."
Georgie raised an eyebrow at him as she pulled her bra on and reached behind her to clasp it closed. "Oh, shit. Who walked in on you?"
"I always liked sleeping naked, more so when I was younger," he commented, shimmying his pants up over his narrow hips as he walked around the bed. "I got up to go to the bathroom and Shane's mom and dad had come over. And they saw everything."
Georgie snickered. "How embarrassed were you?"
"I would've been fine until Mr. Walsh congratulated me."
A hearty chuckle escaping Georgie's lips, she shook her head in amusement and then pulled her shirt back on over her head as Rick opened their bedroom door and slipped out first with his own shirt in hand. Following after him, she nearly slammed into his back when he came to an abrupt stop near the top of the stairs. There, Carl was holding a gun to the back of Jesus' head, who was sitting on the topmost step and holding a painting from the wall.
"Carl," Rick greeted his son in surprise, just as he was zipping his pants up while Georgie came up beside him. "Um…"
He knew his son was aware of and okay with his relationship with Georgie, but this was the first time his son had seen him in such a state of undress with Georgie present.
At the sound of the front door clattering open, followed by several eager footsteps, the four at the top of the stairs spotted Daryl, Glenn, Maggie and Abraham coming up the stairs. They went no further than the stairwell's landing, aiming guns up at Jesus as well.
"We're fine," Georgie assured, looking over the top railing at their people who were hesitant to lower their weapons.
"You said we should talk," Rick remarked toward Jesus, lifting his denim shirt up and slipping an arm into a sleeve. "So let's talk."
It was just barely after sunrise and the group had all but dragged Jesus down the stairs to the dining area where Daryl promptly shoved Jesus down into a chair at the end of the table farthest from the kitchen. Maggie and Glenn had taken seats perpendicular to one another while Abraham stood there, intentionally flexing his arm muscles, like a bird puffing up its feathers to ward off rivals or any sort of potential predators. Michonne had woken to the sounds of several feet trampling up the steps and come out of her bedroom with her katana at the ready; quickly to be clued in by Georgie once she descended the stairs with Rick and Carl. As Michonne had watched Daryl dragging Jesus down the stairs and toward the dining area that was when Carol had made an appearance at the top of the stairs, asking what the commotion was. Rick had appeased her, saying they had a visitor, but it was okay; to just go back to bed or at least keep an ear out for Judith who was still asleep.
Whatever Carol's decision had been, it resulted in her staying upstairs. Before the others, who had not been privy to Jesus' arrival into Alexandria the night before, had gathered around the table, Rick pulled them aside in the kitchen and gave them the cliff notes version, since all they knew was what had brought them to the house. Supplied with this new knowledge of their "guest", that was when the group present began to either take a seat around the table or stand as they narrowed their respective eyes at Jesus.
Carl, not to be excluded like some little kid anymore, took a seat at the table across from Maggie and Michonne to his left. Rick sat directly across from Michonne; to the right of Maggie, and perpendicular to Jesus. Daryl was pacing slightly while Georgie stood just behind Rick; her lower back pressed against the hutch and her arms folded across her chest. She still felt a bit flustered from Jesus having received an eyeful of both her and Rick and, because of it, was understandably resentful the man.
"So how'd you get out?" Rick questioned, considerably curious.
"One guard can't cover two exits," Jesus replied, matter-of-fact, as Daryl stepped behind him to stand near the wall, "or third floor windows. Knots untie and locks get picked. Entropy comes from order, right?"
"Right," Daryl grunted, tapping his trigger finger against the barrel of the gun still in his hand.
"I checked out your arsenal," Jesus continued. "I haven't seen anything like that in a long time. You're well-equipped. But your provisions are low. Very low for the amount of people you have. Fifty-four?"
"More than that," Maggie piped up, her arms folded the same as Georgie's.
Jesus locked eyes with the younger woman for a moment and then down at his hands. "Well, I appreciate the cookie. My compliments to the chef."
"Well she ain't here," Daryl lied.
Well, not technically.
Carol was home, just upstairs and not there with the others.
Truth be told, right around the time Georgie had felt herself come out of her funk regarding her son's death, it seemed Carol had become slightly withdrawn at times. She either busied herself with baking cookies with whatever supplies could be spared, looked after Judith or took a few shifts on watch; keeping her interaction with the rest of the group to a bare minimum. Georgie had been meaning to talk to her friend about that recently, but something else always distracted her. And now definitely wasn't the time for that anyway.
Jesus looked up at Daryl and turned to address him primarily at first. "Look, we got off to a bad start. But we're on the same side. The living side," he commented, turning back to look upon everyone else around the table, but then focused on Daryl once again. "You, Georgie and Rick had every reason to leave me out there, but you didn't. I'm from a place that's a lot like this one. Part of my job is searching out other settlements to trade with. I took your truck because my community needs things, and the three of you looked like trouble. I was wrong. You're good people. And this is a good place. I think our communities may be in a position to help each other.
"Do you have food?" Glenn asked.
"We've started to raise livestock. We scavenge, we grow. Everything from tomatoes to sorghum."
"Tell us why we should believe you," Rick spoke.
"I'll show you. If we take a car, I can take you back home in a day, and you can all see for yourselves who we are and what we have to offer."
"Wait," Maggie muttered, leaning forward. "You're looking for more settlements? You mean you're already trading with other groups?"
Jesus sat back and grinned. "Your world's about to get a whole lot bigger."
It was decided.
A group would leave Alexandria and go with Jesus back to his community to see if his story was legit and, if so, if both their communities could reach a trade agreement.
Each person that had been present around the table to hear what Jesus had to tell them was going to go and had gone to pack up some bags to bring with them of some food and other supplies they might need if the trip took too long and they didn't get back until the next day. The RV was the largest vehicle to transport everyone so it had been brought round and parked in front of the group's main home where Daryl was tinkering with the engine to check the oil and make sure there wouldn't be any issues with the vehicle that might pop up on the road. Carol had begun moving around for the day, having gotten Judith up and dressed and fed. Eventually the girl was passed off to her father's waiting arms as Carol made herself scarce; not even bothering to say goodbye, which unnerved Georgie a bit but chose to disregard for the time being.
As the redhead came out of the house with a backpack in her hand, she tossed it to Abraham who in turn tossed it into the opened door of the RV. With a nod and a smirk to her fellow ginger, Georgie sauntered up to Rick's side where he was already having a conversation with his son. Carl was standing at the back of the RV with a gas canister in his hand and looked up at Georgie when she approached.
"I'll take the canisters if you wanna go grab your bag," she commented; having already spoken about it to Rick in passing, about ten minutes earlier up in their room, while they'd been packing the bag they'd decided to share.
"Yeah," Rick nodded, shifting his daughter onto his opposite hip. "Get your stuff. Gabriel can take care of Judith while we're gone."
"No, I'm not coming," the teen countered, confusing his father. "Someone's gotta stay back, keep this place safe. A kid with a messed-up face probably wouldn't make the best first impression anyway."
Georgie's heart nearly broke, hearing Carl speak like that. "Honey, there's nothing messed up about you. I will stab anyone in the neck who says otherwise," she insisted, reaching her hands out to rest upon his shoulders and then pulling him into a big ol' hug. Turning her face, she pressed her lips into his hair and gave him a brief kiss before pulling back. He stared back at her, seeming a bit sad and yet happy at the same time. "But if you don't want to come, you don't have to. Just don't think you shouldn't just because you got a badass eyepatch."
Carl snickered. "It's not even a real eyepatch. It's just a bandage."
Rick looked at his son and frowned; a bit caught off guard by his previous comment.
"We'll have to rectify that as soon as we can find one," Georgie remarked, placing her hands on her hips. She turned and eyed Rick. "Won't we?"
Rick nodded, agreeing. "Yeah."
Lifting Judith off him, Rick passed her off to Carl and gave the teen a knowing nod. Apparently father and son had the ability to express whatever else they needed or wanted to say to each other with that simple gesture. As Carl took his sister into his arms, he simultaneously handed off the gas canister to his father.
"We'll be back as soon as we can," Georgie assured.
Rick had already walked off toward as Abraham called out chewing up some asphalt, but Georgie wasn't too content with just leaving the boy behind like that, so she lingered; eyeing up the teen and his sister.
When he realized she was still standing there, he smirked. "Look after my dad, will ya? He tends to get himself into some shit."
Despite her instinctive maternal concerns creeping around in her mind, Georgie couldn't help but laugh. "I'll look after him but I can't promise it'll do any good."
Carl laughed as well and then lifted Judith's hand to make her wave. "Say bye-bye, Judy."
With her free hand, Judith pulled her pacifier out of her mouth and began to pout when she seemed to understand both her father and Georgie were going away. "Mama," the toddler muttered with a slowly quivering chin.
"Oh." Georgie's heart swelled and ached at the same time. Stepping up closer to Judith and Carl, she placed her hands on either side of the little girl's face and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Me and your daddy will be home soon, okay? Be good for Carl. No parties."
Carl snickered. "Go. Abraham looks like a vein is gonna burst in his head."
Georgie looked over her shoulder at the burly ex-army sergeant and rolled her eyes. "He can wait a minute longer."
Kissing Judith's forehead once more and then Carl's cheek, Georgie stepped back and gave a small wave before turning around and heading toward the door to the RV. Ignoring Abraham's impatient look, she climbed up into the vehicle just as she heard Judith begin to wail. Her heart aching again, Georgie looked around for a place to sit, and quickly noticed Rick was gesturing her over to take the empty passenger seat beside him as he was driving.
"Judy okay?" he asked, as the weight of Abraham climbing into the vehicle shook it slightly.
Georgie nodded. "She'll be fine. Kids have the attention span of a gnat at that age. Carl will be able to distract her."
The door slamming shut had nothing to do with the ginger man's frustration over wanting to make good time; just with the simple fact that he had done it too quickly. When he plopped down into an empty seat beside Michonne and Daryl, the RV shook once more.
Rick threw a look over his shoulder at the larger man. "We good?"
"I'd be right as fucking rain if we weren't dallying around so damned much."
Rolling his eyes slightly, Rick eyed Georgie as he smirked and started the ignition. "I'm feeling a bit of déjà vu."
"Oh?"
"Last time you and I drove in this thing together, the day didn't end up going as planned."
Georgie chuckled a little. "Since when does anything ever go as planned?"
Rick shrugged and began to put the RV into gear. "Point taken."
The RV had been cruising at a decent speed down a leaf- and debris-covered road for a little over an hour. Because of the very early start to the day for everyone, most were quiet and trying to catnap; Maggie especially, but most of her exhaustion could easily be attributed to her pregnancy draining her. As the hush voices of Abraham and Glenn wafted toward the front of the vehicle, Rick tried glimpsing back at them by way of his peripheral vision without actively eavesdropping on whatever the two men were talking about. The only he would actually manage to understand what was being said would be turning around and leaning in, but that couldn't be done when he was driving. Instead, Rick chose it wasn't important. It wasn't his conversation, therefore none of his business. If it was something that pertained to him, he was sure as shit Abraham would make it known.
Rick chose to focus the attention he could spare from the road to Georgie. Keeping his left hand on the steering wheel, he reached out with his right and felt around for Georgie's leg. When his fingers touched down upon her knee, he cupped his hand over it and gave it a squeeze. A smile toyed at his lips when she draped her hand over his and then entwined their fingers together.
Casually, they looked at each other, love sprinkled all over their faces.
"Thank you for earlier," he muttered quietly.
"For what?"
"With Carl, after what he said about being messed up; when you hugged him and told him he was okay. I should've done that."
"You had Judith in your arms."
"I could've hugged him and told him he was okay with Judith in my arms," he insisted, focusing his blue eyes upon the road again. "Point is, I didn't, and I feel like an asshole. I should've done it. I just didn't know how to react. He said it so nonchalantly like it was okay. But it ain't."
Georgie frowned. "It's still relatively soon after his injury. I think, all things considered, he's doing pretty well."
"Physically, maybe. I'm just a bit worried about the mental part of it, in the long run."
"Well," she sighed, giving his hand a squeeze. "He has all of us. He has a family, friends; people who love him and will be there to help him in whatever he's going through or needs."
"Yeah, he does," Rick nodded, glancing back at her.
"Make sure to give him a big hug when we get home."
Rick looked at the road, and then back at her. "I will."
As they both brought their gazes back to the road ahead of him, they both noticed the swerved tire tracks in the road, a trail of blood and an overturned car in a ditch on the side of the road.
"Rick, what's going on?" Daryl asked.
"We got a crash ahead. Looks like it just happened," he replied, slowing the RV down, and pulling over onto the property where the accident occurred.
Underneath the car was a walker, pinned and reaching out at the approaching RV. Another walker could be seen caught up in the front, right wheel well, still moving as well. There was blood and other entrails slathered along the underside of the vehicle from both walkers which had clearly been struck; causing the accident. The group inside the RV was plenty alert now and all standing up to certain degrees to peer out the front window to get a glimpse at the accident they were approaching. As desensitized as most survivors were nowadays to the sight and existence of the dead wandering around trying to eat the living, it was still always going to be odd to see, regardless.
"That's one of ours," Jesus stated, suddenly very anxious.
Rick had barely brought the RV to a complete stop when Jesus darted for the door and jumped out. Throwing the vehicle into park and turning the ignition off, Rick was quick to grab his gun from its holster and dart out after the other man. As Jesus moved around the front of the overturned car, Rick drew his Colt on him, to which Jesus was quickly and astutely aware.
"If this is a trick, it won't end well for you," Rick warned as the others filed out of the RV, taking point and assessing the scene to make sure it wasn't some sort of trap; that there weren't any unfriendly types hidden to jump out at them.
"My people are in trouble," Jesus insisted. "They don't—we don't have a lot of fighters. I know how it looks, but I'll play it out. Can I borrow a gun?"
"Nah," Daryl replied brusquely, gesturing to Rick for his attention and then pointing at the ground. "We got tracks right here."
Urging Jesus to walk with them, the group followed the tracks Daryl spotted toward the nearby building where the tracks seemed to disappear into. Almost everyone had their own weapons drawn and at the ready by this point. Stepping up to the closed, glass doors, Rick lifted a fist and banged on them; trying to draw out any lurkers inside. Taking a couple steps back, he kept his eyes trained on the doors and waited.
"They gotta be in there," Jesus said.
"We moving in or what?" Abraham asked; a hand on the gun strapped to his hip.
"How do we know this isn't firecrackers in a trashcan?" Daryl questioned skeptically.
"You don't," Jesus admitted.
Rick stared back at the man, dropping his arms down at his sides. "We'll get your people. You're staying here with one of us."
Jesus looked behind him, catching they eye of Michonne who shook her head back at him.
"That's the deal," she asserted.
"Will you stay?" Glenn asked, walking up to his wife.
"Yeah," Maggie nodded as Rick pulled handcuffs out of his back pocket and approached Jesus with them. "Y'all go. Just be careful."
"Yeah, we're gonna be careful," Rick remarked, pulling Jesus' arms behind his back and slapping the cuffs around his wrists. Looking over his shoulder toward Maggie, he added, "You hear me whistle, shoot him."
"I will."
As the group began to move for the doors, Georgie hung back, alerting Rick to her hesitation. "What's wrong?" he asked, as Daryl opened a door and the others began to slip slowly inside.
"Nothing," Georgie assured. "I'm gonna stay out here with Maggie. Two heads are better than one, you know? In case there are others somewhere around here, she shouldn't be by herself with him. We know how crafty he is at getting out being bound."
Rick nodded in agreement. "Alright."
With a nod of his head, he gave her a look that said for her to be careful, the same as he promised Maggie they would be inside. As darted into the building, Daryl slipped in behind him, letting the door shut.
"You didn't have to stay. I got this," Maggie commented, keeping her gun trained on Jesus.
"He's good at giving us the slip," Georgie shrugged. "Better two sets of eyes on him than one."
Accepting the ginger's company, Maggie did seem a bit relieved despite maintaining a stubborn stance. Jesus didn't seem as relieved. Even though they had no definite reason to trust him as far as they could throw him, neither female could deny he appeared very worried about his people. That was enough to make Georgie and Maggie not feel as threatened by the situation as they normally would be. He was cuffed, they both had guns aimed in his direction and their own people were near enough.
"How're you holding up?" Georgie inquired after a couple of minutes of silence; eyeing Maggie knowingly.
"Little nauseous. Other than that I'm fine."
"That's good." After a moment, she added, "Crackers."
"What?"
"Crackers and either peppermint or spearmint tea; they help with the nausea," Georgie clarified. "Avoid ginger teas, though. They tend to cause heartburn."
Maggie nodded with a small smile. "Thanks for the tidbits. No one has really been offering me any words of advice."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean, Carol's…quiet on that front. Normally she'd be the person who I'd expect to offer advice, or even one of our community's housewives. And I didn't want to come to you with anything so soon after…you know."
Lowering her gun slightly, Georgie brought her focus off of Jesus and primarily onto Maggie instead. "I'm not in that place anymore. I can't be. If you need anything, anything at all, you come to me about it, okay?"
Smiling more appreciatively, Maggie again nodded. "I will."
"Promise me. Especially if anything feels off. Let me know. I'll do what I can."
"Are you pregnant?" Jesus asked over his shoulder at Maggie.
"Face forward," Georgie warned, jabbing the barrel of her gun between his shoulder blades.
"Just trying to make conversation," he maintained, looking toward the glass doors. "I hear lemon tea is supposed to help with nausea, too."
Maggie and Georgie simply exchanged a look with each other in response.
Not too long after, Rick and the others had come back outside with four of Jesus' friends; one of them, a guy named Freddie, was injured from the accident they'd been in. After loading everyone back into the RV, Rick removed the cuffs from Jesus' hands and Wesley was laid down upon a bed in the back of the vehicle and was looked after by his own. Once again behind the wheel, Rick continued their journey with Georgie reclaiming her place beside him. Jesus kept watch just behind them, navigating where to go; where to turn here and there. Eventually, Freddie came to sit beside Jesus and Maggie and Glenn migrated to the back with the man who had tended to Freddie; a man they would all soon learn was a doctor.
After nearly another hour of driving, the RV became stuck in some mud in the road. Rick tried pressing down on the gas pedal, but there was no movement. The RV wouldn't lurch forward enough for them to keep going without a few of them getting out and manually pushing the vehicle out of the rut it was in. the wheels just keep spinning to no avail.
"Dammit," Rick grumbled. "A storm must've passed through. We're stuck."
Jesus stood up and looked out the windshield. "No worries," he insisted, patting Rick's shoulder. "We're here."
Throwing the RV into park and turning the engine off once again, Rick shoved the keys into his pocket and stood up as Jesus exited the vehicle first. Everyone began to follow after him with their guns and other weapons in hand, stepping down into deep puddles of mud that doused their shoes and splattered up onto the legs of their pants.
Up ahead just slightly, on a slight incline up from the road, was a massive wall made of wooden posts.
"That's us," Jesus announced. "That's the Hilltop."
Slowly, everyone made their way up the muddy dirt road leading up to this new, walled community. The group from Alexandria was considerably tense, not exactly knowing what they were being brought to, despite what Jesus had claimed. This could've all been a very elaborate plan hatched to get them where he wanted and overpower them. Get their defenses down with sob stories of having no fighters and people just in need of supplies was one way to do it. At least that's how Rick was feeling about it, which was why he wasn't ready to drop the automatic rifle in his hands; keeping it close to him as they approached the gate.
"Stop right there," came a voice.
Without missing a beat, Rick's group aimed their weapons up toward the top of the wall in complete synchronization.
Jesus also instinctively turned around to face the group with his hands up. "Whoa!"
"You gonna make us?" Daryl taunted the two men atop the wall with spears in their hands.
"Jesus, what the hell is this?" one of the two men demanded.
"Open the gates, Cal. Freddie's hurt." Turning to eye Rick's group, he frowned. "Look, sorry about these guys. They get antsy standing up there all day doing nothing."
"They give up the weapons. Then we'll open the gates."
"Why don't you come down here and get 'em?" Daryl dared.
Carson, the doctor approached and spoke up. "Gentlemen, look, we vouch for these people, alright? They saved us out there. Lower the spears," he implored.
"Look, I'm not taking any chances," Rick muttered to Jesus. Tell your guy Gregory to come out here."
"No."
"No?" Georgie repeated. "Is that a 'no' because you don't want to or—"
Jesus cast an eye toward her briefly before focusing solely on Rick. "Don't you see what just happened? I'm letting you keep your guns. Look, we ran out of ammo months ago. I like you people. I trust you. Trust us."
After a moment of staring each other down, Rick relented and threw a hand up for his people to rally forward.
Jesus turned back around to face the wall, casting his eyes upward. "Open the gates, Cal."
Without any further hesitation, the gates creaked open to reveal a community that looked like they had all just stepped back in time about two or three centuries. There was a stately, Georgian manor house and a farming community surrounding it. As the mix of Alexandrians and Hilltoppers passed through the gates, Jesus led the way slowly, watching the newcomers taking in the sights of crops growing, livestock being looked after, and life just going on.
"Hey, thanks again," Carson spoke, helping the other Hilltopper called Wesley walk with Freddie. Turning he addressed Glenn and Maggie, specifically. "Come see me whenever. I'm just over here in the medical trailer, okay?"
"There was a materials yard for a power company nearby. That's how we put up the walls," Jesus began to explain. "A lot of people came from a FEMA camp. Trailers came with them."
"How did people find out about this place?" Michonne wondered.
Jesus faced forward and gestured to the mansion. "That's called Barrington House. Family that owned it gave it to the state in the '30s. The state turned it into a living history museum. Every elementary school for fifty miles used to come here for field trips. This place was running a long time before the modern world built up around it. I think people came here because they figured it'd keep running after the modern world broke down." He pointed up further near the roof. "Those windows up there let us see for miles in every direction. It's perfect for security. Come on. I'll show you inside.
The group followed after Jesus with a mix of awe and trepidation.
This was the kind of community they were hoping to build for themselves; to be self-sustaining. But, in the meantime, they would need Hilltop to barter with. They would have to work something out because they needed to make this work. They needed it. There was only so much they could do with scavenging before all nearby abandoned homes and other establishments had been picked clean by themselves or other survivors out there.
Walking inside the house, they were greeted by the immensity of the interior; and honestly it was just gorgeous. It really did feel like they'd stepped back in time. Every decoration and detail was, at the very least, a hundred or a hundred and fifty years old. Portraits of people dead for centuries adorned the walls and ornate wooden tables were bedecked with brass candlesticks and first editions of books, amongst many other period items.
"Good gracious, Ignatius," Abraham remarked, taking it all in, as Jesus shut the door behind him.
"Most of the rooms have been converted into living spaces," Jesus explained further. "Even the ones that weren't bedrooms."
"People live here and the trailers?" Rick wondered, looking around.
"We plan to build." He eyed Maggie and Glenn, knowingly. "There's babies being born."
A door opened up and a, older man in clean dress clothes stepped out, smiling slightly upon the Hilltop scout. "Jesus, you're back," he greeted, glancing around at everyone else with an amused raise of an eyebrow. "With guests."
"Everyone, this is Gregory. He keeps the trains running on time around here," Jesus introduced.
Gregory threw his hands out at his side and grinned. "I'm the boss."
"Well, I'm Rick. We have a community—" Rick began before Gregory cut him off.
"Why don't y'all go get cleaned up, hmm?" he said as if Rick hadn't even spoken to begin with.
Strike one, Georgie thought, narrowing her gaze toward the man as she sidled up unconsciously beside Rick.
"We're fine," Rick insisted, insisted, biting back considerably.
Gregory didn't seem to give two shits. "Jesus will show you where you can get washed up. Then come back down here when you're ready," he continued, rather condescendingly, stepping right up to Rick and adding quietly, "It's hard to keep this place clean."
Strike two.
"Yeah. Sure." Rick smiled, flashing a friendly smile.
Georgie stood the closest to him of their group, but everyone could feel the disdain and slight rage starting to emanate off of Rick like toxic fumes.
Jesus rolled his eyes and threw Rick a sympathetic look. "Follow me."
Leading the way up the stairs, one by one the group from Alexandria began to follow.
"You clean up first," Rick muttered to Maggie. "You talk to him."
"Why?"
His response, paired with a slight sneer and shrug of his shoulder said plenty. "I shouldn't. And you gotta start doing these things."
As the group reached the second floor, Maggie and Glenn went off to one of the bathrooms, which they all found confusing, given the era this house was stuck in. Jesus had to explain the modern plumbing had been put in long before the state acquired the house and modernized even more for the people who worked within the home once it became a living museum. While the married couple freshened up in one of the bathrooms, Rick and Georgie were shown to another as the rest waited their turn.
Once in the privacy of the bathroom in question, Rick sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. He draped his rifle across his lap and stared up at Georgie who turned on the faucet to the sink and was surprised to find the water was running.
"Must run on a well water system," she muttered as she splashed some of the cool water onto her face and then grabbed for the bar of soap to lather up her hands. "What do you think?"
"Of the plumbing?"
"No, all of this," Georgie replied with a shrug of her shoulders. And then, more pointedly, she added, "On Gregory."
"I think he's a prick."
Georgie smiled and nodded. "You too?" Rinsing her hands off, she reached for a towel to dry them off and then stepped back for Rick to take a turn.
As he stood up, he looked down at the sink and then up at her, shaking his head. "I'm fine," he maintained.
"To be fair, you haven't had a shower since yesterday morning and all that running around and sweating we've done since..."
Rick smirked. "You took a shower last night. You can be clean enough for the both of us."
"That's not how that works," Georgie chuckled.
Making a face, Rick gestured with a nod of his head toward the closed bathroom door. "Fuck him. The state of my hygiene is not why we're here."
Pursing her lips, Georgie placed her hands upon Rick's chest and curled her fingers under the collar of his white T-shirt. "For me, then."
"Don't you like my stink?" he asked with a mischievous grin.
"Well, I have made out with you smelling worse."
"Likewise." Leaning in, Rick pressed his lips to hers. "You're referring to that barn, right?"
"I am."
"That was an interesting night."
"Every night with you is an interesting night, Rick."
Narrowing his eyes, he continued to grin and then obliged her by turning on the faucet and sticking his hands under the cool stream of water. "That a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Always a good thing, of course. It's with you."
Reaching for the soap, he began to lather his hands up, but only just barely. "Let me know if I ever bore you and stop bringing my A game."
"Will do."
Later on, after Maggie had gone down and talked to Gregory in his office, the group gathered once again in that entrance room, either standing or sitting around. Maggie gave a verbatim play by play of the entire discussion she'd just had, about how Gregory would only help Alexandria if they worked for it, instead of just trading, and how, when she pointed out Hilltop's lack of ammo and medicine, proposing they simply all help each other out, he became insulted and ended their conversation.
"You said there were other communities," Georgie remarked, looking pointedly at Jesus; sitting in a chair that Rick was perched on the armrest of. "Gregory is your leader. How is it he doesn't know how to enter into talks like this? How the hell did he end up in a position of power here?"
"We want to generate trade," Jesus assured. "Gregory does. But ammo isn't something we urgently need."
Rick found that a bit perplexing. "Well, how's that?" he questioned, sitting up straight.
"The walls hold. We just brought in more medicine. Gregory wants the best deal possible."
"Yeah, well, we want things, too," Daryl countered, pacing slightly.
"We need food. We came all this way, we're gonna get it." With a nonchalant shrug, Rick merely spoke matter-of-fact. There would be no room for negotiation in that.
Jesus stared back, sighing inwardly. Standing there now, he looked considerably more comfortable without all those extra layers of clothing; instead in just his pants, boots and a loose-fitting white shirt. "I will talk to him and we will work this out," he insisted, looking at the others. "Circumstances change. We're doing well now, and you will next. I will make him understand that. Can you give me a few days?"
"We can," Michonne announced, decidedly.
Georgie found herself looking across the room at Michonne, who looked back at her. Twisting her lips, she nodded in agreement and lifted her hand to give Rick's leg a knowing squeeze. "We can," she repeated for his ears only when he still seemed hesitant.
Looking down at her out the corner of his eye, Rick nodded; giving in. "Yeah."
At the sound of footsteps coming up toward the front door and a faint commotion from outside, the group stood up. They directed their attention forward as the front door opened, revealing Wesley, who looked flustered. The doors to Gregory's office opened up as well, and he stepped out; concerned.
"What's wrong?" Gregory implored.
Wesley gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. Whatever it was that was going on, it didn't seem like good news. "They're back."
One by one, everyone followed the three Hilltoppers out of the house, down the steps and toward three people approaching from the gate.
"Ethan, what happened to everybody else? Where's Tim and Marsha?" Gregory asked, as the larger of the three — Ethan — stalked forward with a terrible scowl on his face.
"They're dead."
"Negan?"
"Yeah."
"We had a deal," Gregory remarked, hands on his hips and sounding put off.
"He said it wasn't enough," the other, newly returned Hilltopper informed. "Was the drop light?"
"No."
"They still have Craig," the female Hilltopper spoke.
"They said they'd keep him alive, return him to us, if I delivered a message to you," Ethan continued, stepping closer.
Gregory nodded. "So tell me."
Ethan placed his left hand on Gregory's shoulder. He looked a little beside himself; almost guilty. "I'm sorry," he muttered, mere seconds before plunging a knife into the older man's gut.
Rick was quick to action, though, running forward to help subdue Ethan as Gregory fell backward. Jesus, Maggie and Glenn rushed forward and caught him, easing him down; all stunned by the turn of events. Michonne and Rick had each grabbed one of Ethan's arms, dragging him backward as the larger man tried shrugging them off.
"Get off of me!" he bellowed. "I had to!"
Ethan took a swing at Rick, which the latter blocked; shoving Ethan's arm down and out of the way enough, and kneeing him in the chest before knocking him backward onto the ground. Rick's inner rage monster bubbled a little too quickly to the surface as he doled out punch after punch to Ethan's head until the other newly-returned Hilltopper (who they would eventually learn was named Andy) pried Rick off and shoved him away. Abraham, in turn, lunged at Andy, as Rick got back to his feet in time to throw himself back at Ethan, who was trying to reach for his knife again. While Rick and Ethan struggled with each other, Andy had somehow bested Abraham; perched on the ginger's chest and wrapping his hands so tightly around Abraham's neck that Abraham was turning red from lack of oxygen. Daryl, however, was on that. Running over, he grabbed Andy's arm and snapped it the wrong way. Once Andy dropped to the ground in pain, Daryl aimed his gun at him.
Temporarily distracted by what had been going on with those three, Rick was caught off guard as Ethan shoved him off and rolled over to pin him to the ground instead. Ethan's knife, which was still very much covered in Gregory's blood, was swiftly brought to Rick's neck, which threw Rick's group into panic mode.
"Hey!" Glenn shouted, approaching quickly and reaching for the gun in his shoulder holster.
"Stay back!" Ethan warned, prepared to slice Rick's throat open. "Anybody who tries to stop me is killing my brother!"
Georgie stood a few feet in the opposite direction from Glenn, both staring nervously toward the burly blonde man threatening Rick's life. Georgie, however, couldn't take any chances in losing the man she loved by doing nothing.
"Hey," she barked at Ethan, casting a brief glance at Rick who blinked at her in sort of coded tell. "Over here."
The second Ethan took a moment to look over at her, Rick had lifted his arm and shoved his own blade into Ethan's neck. Blood instantly spurted out like a faucet on full blast. Rick didn't let up right away; keeping the knife in his hand buried in Ethan's neck as blood spilled down over his own neck and the lower half of his face. When he did pull the knife out, he covered the wound with his hand and shoved Ethan away so he could pull himself back up to his feet.
As Rick stood there, drenched in sweat, Ethan's blood and covered in dirt and hay from the ground. Turning around, he found the Hilltoppers standing at their posts, completely stunned by the brutality of what just happened.
Catching his breath, Rick looked back at all of them. "What?"
"Ethan!" Andy cried out, holding his arm which Daryl had likely broken. "You killed him!"
"He tried to kill Gregory, then me," Rick disputed.
The female — Crystal — that had just returned with Ethan and Andy ran right up to Rick and punched him hard enough that he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Before she could attack him any further, Georgie turned and kicked the Crystal in the chest, and then Michonne came up and all but clotheslined her. Their tag team approach to subduing Crystal resulted in her flat on her back as a bit of hay got kicked up around her.
Georgie aimed her gun at Crystal, but Michonne shoved her hand away.
"Don't," Michonne cautioned.
Letting out a shaky sigh of frustration, Georgie obliged her friend and stepped back, but kept an eye on the downed female. "Try anything. I dare you," she taunted.
As Rick got back up to his feet, gun in hand, and as Daryl kept his own gun pointed at Andy, Cal began stalking forward. "Drop it now!" he shouted, aiming his spear at Rick.
"I don't think will," Rick replied, who walked forward aiming his Colt right back.
In a flurry of motion, Jesus ran forward, leaving Maggie alone at Gregory's side as he jumped between Rick, Cal and Eduardo (the other Hilltopper from the wall) to diffuse the situation. "Everyone, this is over!" he panted. "This is over! Ethan was our friend. But let's not pretend he was anything more than a coward who attacked us," he addressed his fellow Hilltoppers. "He did this. And these people stopped it."
"What can I do?" Rick asked, calmly.
"Put the gun away. You've done enough." As Rick lowered his gun, and while Crystal had moved to cry over Ethan's dead body, Jesus leaned in toward Rick. "You need to know that things aren't as simple as they might seem. Just give me some time."
Once more, Rick and Georgie found themselves in the same upstairs bathroom of the manor house; only, this time, Rick was indeed getting cleaned up. He stood there at the sink, a dry towel in his hand as Georgie was lathering up a wet washcloth with the bar of soap they'd used earlier.
"Turn," she muttered, and he turned to face her.
Rick's eyes settled on currently expressionless face as she brought the washcloth up to his and began to wipe the blood from around his mouth and chin. She wiped all around, and down to his neck, rinsing the rag out occasionally, and then repeating the process a few more times until she'd gotten most of the blood off his skin. And he just let her do it. He had two hands. He was prepared to do it himself. Georgie, however, seemed to feel the need to do it for him. It wasn't the first time she'd cleaned blood off his face and it likely wouldn't be the last time either.
When she was content that his face was clean enough, she rinsed the washcloth out once more and then brought it down upon the front of his shirt where he blood had seeped into the white material and was staining.
"You need to stop wearing white shirts," she spoke after a while.
"White's reflective. It doesn't absorb the sunlight like darker colors. It's cooler this way."
"You're wearing a jacket. Your point is invalid."
Rick attempted to smirk while he maintained his gaze on her, studying the way she pursed her lips and clenched her jaw. He'd known her long and intimately enough by now to know she was upset about something other than the blood staining his shirt.
"You mad at me about what happened?" he asked. "About what I did to that guy?"
She'd gotten as much of the blood off his shirt as she was going to be able to, so she simply rinsed the washcloth out once more before draping it over the edge of the sink and turning the faucet off. Gripping the sink's edge, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and then placed her free hand upon her hip. Lifting her eyes up to his, Georgie shook her head and sighed. "I'm not mad at you or what you did. I'm not even mad at that guy. He was scared. He lost people."
"So then why do you look like you wanna strangle someone?"
"Because I was scared," she admitted. "Even though I'm not mad at that guy, it doesn't mean I wasn't scared about it all."
"You didn't seem too scared back there. You were prepared to kick ass and take names the same as I was. The same as the rest of us."
Georgie shrugged. "Fear's a great motivator." She sighed. "He had that knife to your throat, and before I realized you had your knife out, and before I saw that look you gave me, I was scared you'd get your throat slit. I was scared you were going to die right there in front of me. How…how would I have gone home and told Carl?"
Rick cast his eyes downward and nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend for things to escalate like that."
"I know you didn't. Doesn't change the fact that it still scared me, though."
"Well, I didn't die. Not today anyway." Rick shrugged this time. "Then again, the day is still young."
"Don't even joke," she warned. "You know I can't lose you, too, so soon after…"
Rick leaned his forehead down against her and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I know." Lifting his hands to the sides of her face, he tilted his down and kissed her nose. "I have no plans on leaving you alone with the kids anytime soon. I mean, I know what we plan and what actually happens always seem to be two different things, but some things I will see through no matter what, and not dying on you is one of them."
"Promise?" she asked as he pulled his face back; a ghost of a smile toying at the corners of her lips.
"Promise."
Inhaling a deep breath and then loudly exhaling it, Georgie nodded. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah." Then, "You're presentable again. We should head back down. See how things are progressing."
"Yeah."
Just as she turned to reach for the door, Rick reached out and grabbed her wrist. Pulling her back toward him, he snaked his arms around her waist and embraced her tightly, nuzzling his damp face against her neck and kissing his way up to the corner of her mouth. Properly kissing her, they both seemed to revel in taking that moment to just center themselves; in finding some peace with each other and collecting their thoughts.
"Okay," he whispered, leaning back. "Now let's go back down."
"Dr. Carson was able to patch Gregory up." Jesus was standing in front of the fireplace in Gregory's office, letting the group know how things were going. "He's in pain, but he'll live."
"So, what happens now?" Michonne asked.
"Things like that don't usually happen here, but, uh, it's settled."
"We heard the name Negan," Rick spoke up, pushing off from the desk he'd been leaning against. "A while back, Daryl and Abraham had a run-in with his men. Who is he?"
"Negan's the head of a group of people he calls the Saviors. As soon as the walls were built, the Saviors showed up. They met with Gregory on behalf of their boss. They made a lot of demands, even more threats. And he killed one of us—Rory. He was 16 years old. They beat him to death right in front of us. Said we needed to understand, right off the bat," Jesus explained. "Gregory's not exactly good at confrontation. He's not the leader I would've chosen, but he helped make this place what it is, and the people like him."
"He made the deal," Maggie deduced.
Jesus nodded. "Half of everything. Our supplies, our crops, our livestock, it goes to the Saviors."
"And what do you get in return?" Glenn wondered, arms folded and curious.
"They don't attack this place. They don't kill us."
"Why not just kill them?" Daryl piped in.
"Most of the people here don't even know how to fight, even if we had ammo."
Rick frowned. "Well, how many people does Negan have?"
"We don't know. We've seen groups as big as twenty."
"Now, hold up," Daryl muttered. "So, they show up, they kill a kid, and you give them half of everything? These dicks just got a good story. The bogeyman, he ain't shit."
"Well, how do you know?"
"A month ago, we took his guys out PDQ. Left them in pieces and puddles," Abraham enlightened.
Daryl looked to Abraham and then back to Jesus. "You know, we'll do it. If we go get your man back, kill Negan, take out his boys, will you hook us up?" he asked, pointing at Jesus to drive his question home. "We want food, medicine, and one of them cows."
Georgie smirked from where she sat atop Gregory's desk, her feet dangling over the edge. She didn't know why, but the image of Daryl somehow loading a cow into the RV to bring back to Alexandria just seemed hilarious to her.
"Confrontation's never been something we've had trouble with," Rick commented with a blasé shrug.
"I'll take it to Gregory," Jesus said, leaving the group alone as he exited the office.
After a little while of lingering in the office, Rick took it upon himself to wander off; get a feel for the ins and outs of the manor house. Some might call it snooping, while he looked at it as figuring out all the exits and trying to better understand how this community worked while no one was around to tell him he couldn't. The Hilltoppers were too busy burning Ethan's body on a pyre they'd built near the edge of their community.
Georgie and Michonne had followed after him when, poking their heads into all the rooms and seeing how the floorplan was laid out. When Rick made his way toward the upper porch, Maggie and Glenn had made their way up and joined them as well. Abraham and Daryl were unaccounted for at the moment; likely seeing to Daryl's proposal about taking some supplies back with them to Alexandria.
"They have food, we don't," Rick muttered, looking at Georgie who stood at his left with her hand on the white railing. "We don't have much of anything. Except us. What we can do." He turned from her and then glanced to Michonne at his right while mirroring Georgie by gripping the white railing in front of him. With a sniff and a nod, mostly to himself, Rick pushed off the railing and turned around to face everyone. "This is the trade."
"It's gonna cost us something," Maggie said, a significant amount of gloom and doom laced in her hushed voice.
"Nothing's ever been free in this world," Georgie retorted. "Blood is gonna get spilled. We just gotta fight like hell to make sure it ain't ours."
The doors onto the porch clicked and out walked Jesus. "Gregory's up. He wants to talk," he informed. As Rick began to step forward, he added, "To Maggie. He wants to talk to Maggie."
Glenn looked to his wife and nodded at her. "You got this," he championed.
Not as certain as her husband was, Maggie cast her green eyes over toward Rick, looking mildly stressed. Rick, however, felt the same as Glenn. Leaning forward, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Deanna was right about you."
Nodding, she accepted his words and walked off without second guessing herself any further.
"I'm sorry in advance," Jesus apologized. "Gregory can be a real prick."
"I know," Maggie muttered.
Whatever Maggie said to Gregory during their second conversation together had worked exceptionally well. She had successfully negotiated getting half of everything Hilltop had in exchange for Alexandria taking of Negan and the Saviors. While they didn't actually get the cow Daryl had suggested they take, they were walking away with quite the bounty of goods.
"Even Negan didn't get this much supplies up front," Jesus mused as he walked past Rick and Georgie with basket in his arms.
Rick smirked and then looked forward as Daryl and Abraham approached with Andy.
"What?" the Hilltopper questioned with little to no patience.
"Jesus said you've been taking supplies to Negan since the beginning," Rick spoke. "We're gonna get Craig back."
"The only way to get Craig back is to bring them Gregory's head."
"We're gonna get Craig back," Georgie insisted, backing Rick's claim.
"How?"
Rick tilted his head slightly. "We need to know what you know about Negan's compound. We need your help. We need you to come."
Not overly fond of the idea, Andy looked understandably perturbed, but gathered up his backbone regardless. "Yeah," he nodded. "Okay."
As he walked off and headed for the RV with Abraham, Daryl and Georgie, Rick walked over to a picnic table and tossed a burlap bag into a wicker basket. As he lifted the basket up, Jesus picked up a plastic tub filled with other supplies and sidled up beside Rick.
"You got room for one more, right? I mean, we're talking about righting the world here. Plus, you still have my knives."
Jesus didn't even wait for Rick to respond. He simply took the tub with him as he climbed up into the RV as Michonne and Georgie watched the others settling inside.
Chuckling sarcastically after the younger man, Rick set the basket into the RV and then brought his gaze over to both women before him as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Hey, you two up for this?" he asked.
"It's gonna be a fight," Michonne responded.
"It's a fight we'd end up having sooner or later, regardless," Georgie commented. "If this Negan guy and his band of not so merry men have been doing what they've been doing here to Hilltop, and how they tried to do the same on the road with Daryl, Abraham and Sasha, who's to say they aren't doing this to any other settlements out there?" Both Rick and Michonne looked back at her and seemed to agree with what she was saying. "It's only a matter of time before they would find us and try the same."
"We'll win. We have to," Rick insisted.
Michonne nodded. "We'll win."
As she turned and climbed up into the bus, Rick walked toward the picnic table but stopped halfway there. Looking down toward the ground, his hand hovered over his holstered Colt as the severity of what they were planning to undertake began to seep into his mind.
"We'll be okay." Georgie was still leaning against the RV, watching after Rick; studying the slump of his shoulders and how he hung his head. It was as if he was already feeling defeated. Pushing off the side of the vehicle, she sauntered up beside him and then stepped in front of him; blocking his path to the picnic table where one more tub of supplies was waiting to be transported into the RV. "Jesus was right this morning when he said our world was going to get bigger. This fight isn't something we can avoid. If we want to live in a better world, we gotta take the steps to make it such. People like the Saviors, they're what's wrong with the world and we can stop that. We can stop them."
"Yeah." Rick's hand still shook slightly as it hovered over his gun.
Noticing as much, Georgie reached out and took it. The sensation had an instant calming effect and Rick smiled, and then she smiled because he did. "We'll be okay," she repeated.