Author's Note: Like with my other story, this summer my muse was on vacation, but now I'm back for good (again...or should be for the most part). This chapter I wrote in a day so I'm proud of myself for that. It encompasses the events that take place during "The Same Boat" and "Twice As Far" and a little somethin', somethin' in between...which I hope you found pleasing. I know I did and I wrote the damned thing, haha.
As always, please READ and REVIEW!
xoxo - Holly
"To me, most of life kind of lives in the grey and I don't just mean morally. I just mean kind of everything. If things were black and white it would be a lot clearer as to what to do all the time." — Sarah Paulson
As the group looked among themselves, panic rose in their chests at the idea of something happening to Maggie and Carol by those that had them. They all waited, and waited, and waited some more and still nothing more came over the walkie-talkie.
"We need to do something."
Rick turned around and looked over at Glenn as the rain continued to mist down over them all. Of their entire group that was present, the younger man had the most to fear and lose in all this. Maggie and Carol were beloved by everyone in their group, and back in Alexandria, but Maggie was Glenn's family; his wife and the mother of their unborn child. If Maggie died, Glenn would lose his entire immediate family in one go. Something like that would very likely break him. Georgie cast a glance Glenn's way as well, understanding his fear. Were it not for having Rick and his children in her life, despite the friend's she had with the group, she would not have come back from the loss of Tristan.
"Until we hear back from, we find them on our own." Rick decided. "Carol's crafty, and they're both smart. They'll be able to keep their heads above water and get through this. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Carol literally left bread crumbs for us to follow."
"They gotta have another base close by to hole up in," Michonne suggested. "They wouldn't have gone too far; otherwise they'd lose range on the two-way for communicating with us."
Rick sneered as he clipped the walkie-talkie to his utility belt and then grabbed the bald Savior by the back of his jacket. Yanking the other man toward him, he glowered and real close to his face. "You're gonna point us in the right direction, or I'm gonna make your death real nice and slow. Are we clear?"
"Fuck you, man."
With a simple glance over Daryl, the archer needed no other indication from Rick to show the Savior they weren't playing. Without warning, Daryl smacked the butt of his gun against the side of the Savior's face. It wasn't hard enough to break skin, but it definitely hurt like a bitch and drew blood from inside the mouth.
"Let's try this again." Rick yanked the Savior back so that he could dig his dirty fingers into the man's neck. Leaning toward the Savior's ear, he lowered his voice. "How far out from here is the place they would've taken our people, and which direction do we go?"
"Go ahead and kill me. I ain't tellin' you shit."
Rick gritted his teeth. "Maybe we won't kill you. Maybe we'll make it so that you're wishing for death so bad you'll give up the information without further hesitation." Shoving the Savior over to Daryl to deal with, Rick turned and looked around the Compound again, with an agitated sigh. Glenn, Michonne and Georgie were standing closest to him as he shook his head and lowered his voice for only them to hear. "Unfortunately, we might not have time on our side to torture any information out of him, but we got vehicles, we got guns and we got Daryl who's the best I know at tracking."
"They were somewhere in the woods and could see us, and if they had vehicles stashed somewhere, the only two roads they could travel on around here is the one we drove up on or there's a dirt road that runs along this property. We passed it last night. Pretty hidden if you're not paying attention," Aaron spoke, walking up behind them. He looked around at the faces suddenly turned and staring back at him. He shrugged. "Devil's in the details."
"Who's got a map?" Rick called out.
"I'll check the vehicles," Rosita offered, letting her weapon hang off her shoulder from its strap as she hurried over to the row of vehicles parked alongside the back of the Compound. Gabriel followed suit, offering to help in that task. Two hands were better than one, anyway. As she began searching through the first truck at one end, he did the same to the Suburban on the left. "Got it!" Rosita announced almost immediately. As she slid out of the driver's seat of the truck and shut the door behind her she pulled a map out and unfolded it over the trunk's hood.
"That was quick," Abraham remarked.
"Who doesn't keep a map in their glove compartment?" she asked rhetorically, with a glare of her eyes at him that suggested all was not well with the pair.
As the others approached, Rick took front and center as some gathered 'round the truck's hood, while the rest took point. Scanning the map to determine where on it they were, he dragged his finger around the worn and crinkled paper and then prodded a spot. "Alright, this is where we are, and this," he moved his finger along a thinner line that indicated a smaller road, "must be the dirt road Aaron saw last night. That puts it," Rick turned around to determine where they were currently all positioned and where the main road was in reference to them, and then pointed in the direction of straight ahead of them, which was currently blocked by the building, "There."
"I could've told you that," Aaron quipped.
"Anyway," Rick ignored the man's comment, "if they had any vehicles along this road, the only area of woods it makes sense for them to have been able to see us is there." Turning again, he pointed to the woods directly behind the entire Compound.
"Okay, so where does that dirt road come out to? What points of interest is somewhere those assholes might take Carol and Maggie?" Georgie inquired, leaning to look over Michonne's shoulder at the map.
"The road leads here," Michonne pointed a normal road on the map. "It goes either left or right, so whichever direction they would've gone is a flip of a coin by that point."
"That's assuming they've even made it to any of their vehicles yet. They could still be in those woods right now."
"So, we'll split into two groups. Daryl will take lead and track through the woods and determine which way they really went. For all we know, maybe they didn't take this road after all. Maybe they've walked all through the woods. The map shows there's a residence or something here," Rick pinpointed as he stepped back toward the map again. "The rest that don't go with Daryl will gather up the weapons and any other supplies at this Compound. Bring our vehicles back here, load everything up."
Further discussion as to who was specifically going and who was staying to load up was had. In the end, it was decided that Abraham, Michonne and Aaron were staying behind at the Compound while the others would go off after Maggie and Carol. Gabriel was one of the ones who elected to go as well; needing to further prove his worth to Rick that he could do the hard stuff without being asked, as if he was still trying to atone for his singular betrayal of the group to Deanna. They would also be bringing the Savior with them. But first, Daryl wanted to track the woods for a while and determine a definite path that was taken by Carol and Maggie's captors.
Only Rick had gone to accompany him, both men disappearing outside the fence and into the woods for the better part of an hour while the others helped gather up the supplies while Gabriel and Georgie guarded the Savior. The entire time, Glenn seemed unable to focus on anything other than worrying about Maggie. Michonne told him to sit it out; that the rest of them had a handle on loading up. Abraham had gone off and returned with the RV. The other vehicles had been left where they'd parked them during the night and would retrieve them later.
When Rick and Daryl returned, having taken the map with them, they announced they'd found tracks leading to the dirt road as suspected, but a ways up.
"They walked through those woods a while," Rick informed. "We found footprints. We think Carol and Maggie left us a trail because those prints were too obvious and we doubt those assholes would be sloppy as to knowingly leave any clues to their direction behind."
"We came out onto the road, muddy tire tracks turned left, but we can't be sure where they went after that." Stalking up to the Savior, Daryl grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and punched him in the face. "Where the fuck did your people go?"
As the Savior reeled back from the blow to his face, he spit fresh blood his mouth at Daryl's shirt and then coughed. "Fuck…you…"
"That was me asking nicely just then," Daryl growled. "Fucking try me."
"You're gonna tell us," Rick stated simply, scratching at his nose. "'Cause if you don't, you die. You're alive because you're of use to us, so it'll work in your favor to comply. Unless, of course, you do wanna die…"
Looking around at each person glaring back at him, the Savior's resolve seemed to slowly break away, but not without some further resistance in a last ditch attempt to hold out. "There's a slaughterhouse," he blurted, regretting saying anything the second the words slipped past his lips. He dropped his head and scowled.
"Where exactly?"
"Route 55," the Savior begrudgingly answered. "Less than a mile north of I-66."
Unfolding the map again, Rick spread opened it up and spread it out upon the nearest vehicle's hood. "There," he remarked, pointing to a spot on the map. "There's I-66, and there's…" His voice trailed as his finger did the same, moving barely an inch upward from one line to another. "Route 55, also known as John Marshall Highway." Rick looked smugly back at the Savior and then dictated to the others, "Put him in the backseat of the Suburban. Gabriel and Glenn stay with him. If he tries anything, shoot him between the eyes."
Rick wiped his nose, the overcast weather seeming to bother his sinuses. Stepping away from the others, he unclipped the walkie-talkie from his utility belt and faced the woods fenced off from the Compound. Pressing the push-to-talk button, he hesitated for a moment and then brought the device to his lips.
"Have you thought about it?" he questioned over the radio. "Talk to me."
Static hissed for a moment or two before a reply came.
"You weren't listening. I said I'd contact you," remarked the woman he'd spoken to earlier. It almost sounded as if there was a tone of amusement to her voice.
Rick smirked. "Would it make a difference if I said I was sorry about that?"
"What do you think?" Her voice was breaking up, determining the fact that she and her friends were already far enough away with Maggie and Carol; very likely already at this slaughterhouse which, according to the map, was about three miles away.
"I think we're gonna make the trade, so tell me where."
"We haven't agreed to that."
"You will."
"You know what? I'm not so sure. We'd be taking most of the risk, not getting much in the way of a reward."
Rick looked over his shoulder, back at his group who were awaiting him and his next move. "The other option won't work out for you."
"We'll take our chances."
As the radio went silent, and despite Rick's pride in knowing his group knew where to get Maggie and Carol back from, he still frowned at the woman's confidence. Clipping the walkie-talkie back to his belt, he returned back over toward the others.
"Well?" Georgie asked.
"She doesn't seem too willing to make a trade just yet," Rick replied. "Too bad she doesn't have a choice in the matter."
"Asshole. You there?"
Sitting in the passenger seat of the Suburban, Rick looked around at everyone else inside the vehicle; Daryl driving, Rosita and Georgie seated in the second row with their backs to the doors so they could keep extra watch on the Savior seated in the middle of the third row, sandwiched between a Glenn and Gabriel. The Savior's mouth was gagged and his hands were duct taped in front of him so they couldn't try breaking free with his hands behind his back where Glenn and Gabriel couldn't see. Then again, the guns they had pointed at his head most of the time were a great deterrent.
Looking forward at where the vehicle was headed, Rick brought the walkie-talkie to his mouth to reply after the woman's voice had come across with next to no static interference.
"I'm here," he answered back.
"We've thought about it. We want to make the trade."
"That's good."
"There's a large field with a sign that says 'God is dead'…about two miles down I-66. Good visibility in all directions."
"We'll meet you there." Rick looked over at Daryl and nodded, just as the archer gently turned a corner onto a road that, according to their map, brought them closer to where this slaughterhouse was. "Ten minutes?"
"Ten minutes."
"What do you think?" Daryl asked as Rick set the walkie-talkie down.
"There was barely any static on the radio. They'll know we're close. Or at least we play this, assuming they know." He sat back a little more comfortably and tapped his fingers rhythmically along the armrest on the passenger door. "If they have the sense to realize we're closer to them than the location she just gave me, they'll be doing one of two things: leaving Carol and Maggie behind so they can make a run for it, or they'll be preparing for a fight. I'm figuring the latter. In which case, maybe we should've had Abraham, Michonne and Aaron come with us."
"We needed them to get the supplies back to Alexandria," Rosita muttered. "And we need them back home anyway. Makes no sense for all our muscle to be gone too long."
Georgie, seated behind Daryl, had a good view of Rick's profile as she watched him nodding at Rosita's words. Leaning forward, she braced her forearms between both Rick and Daryl's seats. Reaching her right hand to Rick's shoulder, she tapped her fingers against it and smirked when he turned to look at her. "We're fine," she murmured as he brought his own right hand up across his chest to grab onto hers. "We're gonna be fine."
"Yeah, I think so, too."
The slaughterhouse wasn't exactly easy to find. Not that it was a blink and you'll miss it situation, but it was situated far back off the road, somewhat obscured by a smallish office building in front of it and overgrown tree coverage. Daryl brought the Suburban to a stop at the base of the property's unkempt driveway and turned off the ignition before everyone began to climb out with their weapons at the ready. Glenn was last out, using his left hand to drag the Savior out by the back his jacket. Rick stepped around and cut the Savior's hands temporarily free of his duct tape binding, only to re-bind them with fresh duct tape behind his back instead of in front of him this time.
Glenn took lead up toward the slaughterhouse with a nod to Rick as he walked past. Rosita was right there beside Glenn as they all began moving, followed by Gabriel and Daryl, and lastly Rick leading the Savior forward with Georgie bringing up the rear.
As they approached, there were some muffled gunshots being fired from inside the building, and black smoke was billowing out, indicating a fire somewhere on an upper level.
Picking up their pace, Glenn led them all as they wove around to the side of the building where a metal, rolling door was. Just before he could reach for it to slide it open, the sound of banging from inside gave him pause. The banging lasted but a moment and sounded like someone was attempting to open it up.
As the door rolled open with an echoing clang, Glenn and Rosita raised their weapons, ready to shoot, only to discover Maggie standing there with Carol immediately behind her; both with some minor blood splatter on their faces and clothes.
"Maggie," Glenn muttered with relief, lowering his gun.
Daryl darted inside the second he saw Carol and went straight to her. "You okay? We got your trail. You start a fire?"
Carol nodded, looking a little dazed and distraught. "Yeah."
"Hey, you good?" he asked, lifting her chin with his hand.
"No," she answered honestly, shaking her head.
Wasting no time, Daryl pulled her into a comforting hug as everyone else began to pile inside. "Come here."
"They're dead. They're all dead; the ones that took us. They're all dead." Maggie's green eyes flickered from Glenn, toward Rick and then back to Glenn again. Seeing her husband there and having his hands on her allowed her to lower her guard and just let the fear she'd been feeling and whatever she and Carol had been subjected to to finally hit her.
"Hey, are you okay?" Glenn asked with great concern.
"I just…I can't anymore."
"It's okay."
As Glenn pulled his wife in for a hug, Georgie holstered her gun and stepped over to Carol so she could take over Daryl's place in hugging her. "I'm so glad you're okay," she whispered with her arms tight around Carol's shoulders. Leaning back; Georgie brought her hands to either side of Carol's face to make sure Carol was looking at her as she looked back with concern. "We're gonna get you home. Can't lose my best friend."
Carol smirked, but she was still clearly a bit out of it.
"Your friends are dead," Rick spoke to the Savior, who seemed to have been hit with the realization he was finally all alone in his situation. "No one's coming for ya. So you might as well talk."
"Let him burn," Daryl grunted.
"I'm gonna ask you one last time: how'd you get the bike?"
"We found it," The Savior mumbled, barely getting the words out.
"Like hell you did," Daryl bit out, his voice sounding extra rough.
Raising his own voice somewhat, the Savior repeated, "We found it."
Rick looked over at Daryl, then back. He leaned closer toward the Savior and sneered. "Was Negan in that building last night or was he here?"
Slowly turning his head, the Savior began to smirk. "Both," he remarked, turning to look fully at Rick with a more devil-may-care attitude suddenly appearing. "I'm Negan, shithead. There's a whole world of fun that we can talk about, so let's have a chat."
Stepping back, Rick seemed to get that look in his eyes where he was a thousand percent done with all the bullshit. "I'm sorry it had to come to this," he said as he quickly lifted his Colt and fired a single shot into the Savior's forehead without blinking an eye.
Georgie saw Carol jump at the sound, and she figured that was all it was; the loud gunshot echoing off the metal walls startling her. She thought nothing more on it, and she thought nothing more on Rick's actions. She, herself, had long since stopped caring about the lives taken that belonged to bad people, or people who threatened her life or the lives of people she cared about. When push came to shove, and it became an "us or them" situation, she would always choose the "us" and she refused to dwell on it. It was a necessary evil and one she could live with.
All that mattered now was that Maggie and Carol were safe and they could bring them home.
The drive back to Alexandria had been relatively silent. The seating arrangement was altered to accommodate Maggie and Carol; allowing Maggie to sit in the third row between Glenn and Gabriel where the Savior had been, while Carol took up the space between Georgie and Rosita in the second row. A time like that would've been nice to have music play over the radio, but such was the world they lived in now, and it wasn't like there were any CDs or cassette tapes to pop in anyway.
Rick had already checked.
As their approached to Alexandria neared its end, Georgie looked down and noticed Carol's hand was bleeding.
"Were you bit?" she whispered, concern plaguing her voice and bringing out frown line across her forehead.
Carol looked down as well; turning over her hand and opening it up to reveal her bloodied palm and the silver cross to the rosary she'd been gripping too hard. "No, I wasn't bit," she answered simply. She didn't elaborate. She didn't look back at Georgie to give a small smile to assure her everything was fine and dandy. Carol simply closed her hand back up and retracted it slightly up into the sleeve of her bulky coat and brought her gaze forward toward the road ahead of them.
Once they reached Alexandria's walls and the gate was rolled open for them, Daryl brought the Suburban around to the front of the townhouses to park. Everyone climbed out slowly; tired and thankful to have just made it back in one piece.
Glenn and Maggie wasted no time in taking off to the home they now shared in one of the townhouses; their own separate space away from everyone else where they could raise their own family soon. Maggie had turned down the suggestion of going to see Denise at the infirmary; insisting she hadn't been injured. Carol, on Daryl's insistence, did go see Denise when he, too, realized her hand had been cut because of that rosary. Fortunately, it wasn't anything major; merely a superficial wound that only required a good cleaning, antiseptic ointment and a Band-Aid. It would heal on its own in a matter of days.
While Daryl continued to stick by Carol's side even after the infirmary, going as far as to walk her home where he insisted she take a hot shower and get something to eat, Rick parted from the group. He went to meet up with Abraham and Michonne who had been waiting for him at the armory since they returned earlier, and were cataloging all the new weapons they'd acquired from the Saviors' compound while Olivia was busying herself with taking inventory of the food supplies they'd also swiped as well. Olivia, bless her heart, asked no questions about the details of how everything had been gained. The entire town knew what was going to go down, or at least expected as much, and they'd agreed to let it happen by not speaking up against Rick two evenings prior during the meeting at the church.
If they could continue to live quietly and safely within Alexandria's walls and get more supplies out of the deal, the residents sans Rick's group were more than happy to bury their heads in the sand or look the other way. Sure they'd stepped up the bat more and more when it was required of them, and even when not asked, in the two months, but old habits have always died hard.
"How'd everything go?" Michonne asked, not asking for specifics unless Rick chose to offer them up first.
"We didn't have to do anything," he replied, running his hand over a box of ammunition and then lifting it up to inspect what caliber it was. Setting the box back down, he looked between the pair. "Our last communication with that woman was ten or so minutes before we got to the slaughterhouse and by the time we arrived, a fire was blazing somewhere upstairs in the building and Maggie and Carol were already making their way out."
"They get hurt at all?"
"Carol cut her hand, I guess, but that was after the fact. She was walking slow. I think she might've gotten hit or something, but she ain't saying anything about it. All I know is they're alive and they're home." Rick leaned back against the door frame and folded his arms across his chest. "They killed the Saviors that took them. Every one of them and they both seemed shaken. Carol, more than normal. I don't think I've ever seen her so zoned out after something like that."
"It gets the best of us all from time to time," Michonne remarked.
"Just gotta nut up and deal with it," Abraham mumbled. "Shit happens. Enough good people have died for no damned reason, so why feel bad about the bad ones?"
"Killing the living isn't always easy."
Rick glanced down at the floor. "It shouldn't get easier, but it does. You just gotta…detach. It's not who we are, it's what we gotta do. We're not doing it because we want to, but because we have to…because we need to. It's about self-preservation. Sometimes, like last night, it's just…preemptive."
"You don't need to explain it to me," Abraham quipped. As Rick made the move to leave then, just as he was literally opening the door to head out, Abraham cleared his throat to get Rick's attention. "Just a heads up, Rick," he began as Rick turned and looked back.
"Yeah?"
"Make sure Carl stays out of the attic in your house, will ya?"
Rick fully stopped and eyed Abraham squarely as he raised a curious eyebrow. "And why's that?"
"I brought back a bunch of pot plants from that compound and hooked up some lights to keep 'em from dying."
"I'm sorry—what?" Rick blinked a few times. "Why not at your house?"
"My living situation is up in the air at the moment and Michonne said it was okay as long as I told you about it."
Rick turned his gaze from Abraham to Michonne. "Really?"
Michonne smirked and shrugged. "It's only plants right now, and it's no worse than booze. Plus, I doubt we'll have them for long. I've got a bet going with him that every last plant will be dead within a month."
"I'll have you know I successfully maintained a pot plant in my closet when I was in high school thanks to my mother never daring to set foot in my room," Abraham retorted.
Rick shook his head as he began to turn back toward the door. "Why's that? Did she work a lot?"
"No, it smelled like shit. I had a hearty appetite even then and my colon was a regular fart cannon."
Despite his best efforts to remain straight-faced, Rick let out a decent chuckle. He then chose that moment to exit, but not before calling over his shoulder, "Just get it into your own attic as soon as you figure out your new living situation."
"Aye, aye, Captain Greybeard."
Rick closed the door behind him and stopped on the first step before going over in his head what Abraham had just called him; evoking the memory of being called that in the RV the morning they first arrived to Alexandria. Shaking his head and continuing down the stairs, he turned up the road and made his way home. He decided he'd wait until the next morning to check in on Glenn and Maggie, and see how they were doing after the events of the last twelve hours. At the moment, all he wanted was to get a hot shower, eat something and see his children.
As he walked along the road, the sky above grew darker and not from further rain; just from the later hour. A slight chill picked up in the air, causing him to zip up the front of his coat a little higher and shove his hands into his coat pockets. Out of habit, he let his eyes drift over to the blue house on the corner and, every time he did so, the memory of crashing through the picture window with Jake played over in his head, along with the memory of leaving that house amidst the herd of walkers that had gotten in, and how it soon led to Tristan's death and Carl losing his eye. The blue house held more bad memories than good in their short time of living in Alexandria and he wished they could just burn it down. Before the herd had come into the community, Rick and Georgie had been planning on making it their home with their children, but now that plan had been shelved for good. If they wanted to have more space to themselves, he was sure Carol, Daryl and Michonne wouldn't mind giving up their residence in the main house and moving into the blue one instead. They didn't hold the same bad memories and ties to the blue house that Rick and Georgie did. He was sure if he sat down and asked them, they would respect his request and move two houses down without a fuss. After all, it wouldn't be like they were going far. Mere feet, really.
But, he was in no rush to kick anyone out just yet. He and Georgie and his kids were still content with how full the house was and, honestly it was nice to come back home to the sounds of a full house after a long, arduous day; which he usually had either in from maintaining order in and the safety of Alexandria, or outside of it like the last, well…several days away.
As Rick made his final approach toward the main house, he found the lights were on downstairs and on the front porch sat Georgie with Judith on her lap.
"All the guns inventoried?" she asked, bouncing Judith on her knee.
"Almost," he replied, ascending the steps and making his way over to his girls. Briefly he leaned down and grabbed onto his daughter's foot and gave it a playful squeeze, which garnered a bright smile out of her. "D'you know about Abe's plants in the attic?"
"What plants?"
"He brought pot plants back today. Apparently he has a green thumb we don't know about."
Georgie snickered. "I find that unlikely."
Bracing his hands along the balustrade, Rick leaned against the porch railing. "You should get in on the bet Michonne has going with him, then. She's betting him they'll all be dead within the month. Hell, I might get in on that bet."
Smiling, Georgie kissed the back of Judith's head and stood up with her. "Want her?"
"Yeah," Rick replied, readily accepting his daughter into his arms.
"I'm gonna grab a shower in a few minutes if you wanna join me," she informed. "It's best to conserve water where we can, after all."
As she stepped away and began to head inside the house, Rick called out, "I'll be up in a minute." Shifting his daughter around on his hip, he lifted his free hand up and booped her nose with his pointer finger and then brought her close to snuggle her against him before placing a kiss upon her forehead. He just enjoyed the smell of her. Babies and toddlers always had that amazing, natural smell that seemed to make everything better. "Heya, honey. Sorry I've been gone a lot lately. Daddy's just had some important things to do the last couple of days to keep everyone safe here." After another kiss to her forehead, he mumbled against her soft, wispy hair, "I hope you were good for Carl. Remind me to thank him for being such an amazing kid and an even more amazing big brother."
After a few more minutes, he brought Judith into the house and greeted his son who was watching Elf on the TV.
"Hey Carl."
The teen turned completely around because, if he didn't, from where his father was standing on the side where his left eye was missing, he didn't have that peripheral vision anymore, so he couldn't see his father. "Hey dad. How'd everything go?"
"It went as well as to be expected; though, not without the usual hiccups."
"Abraham said Carol and Maggie got kidnapped, but they're okay, right?"
"Physically, yeah, but they seemed a bit shaken by the ordeal," he replied to his son. "They just need a few days to rest and relax. Maggie can't be going out like that anymore in her condition, and I think she finally understands it now, too. Carol, I think…she just hold it all in and I think all the pretending she's been doing around here since we got here, given everything she's done and has had to do is taking its toll. She just seemed stressed. But, again, I think she just needs some time to step down from it all and just relax a while. She does so much around here to begin with. Even I take a break once in a while. Carol's always—"
"—Like the Energizer bunny. Going, going, going…"
Rick smirked. "Yeah, exactly." Setting Judith down on the floor and watching as she wandered over to some of her toys scattered along the base of one of the living room chairs, Rick shifted his weight and hooked his thumbs on his front pants pockets as he eyed his son more thoroughly. "Speaking of doing so much around here, I want you to know I'm real grateful of how you keep stepping up to the plate to take care of your sister for me, even after everything you've been through with your injury."
Carl shrugged awkwardly; just like his father when it came to hearing a compliment. "She's my family, and I might have only one eye, but I still have two legs and two hands and a fully functioning brain. I'd give up my other eye to keep her safe."
"I'd stand in the way of that bullet before I let anything like that happen to you again."
"I know." Carl looked down, itching just under the bandage covering his vacant eye socket. "Do you think you killed all the Saviors? Like, do you think there's any more out there?"
Rick sighed. "I'd like to think so, but we really don't know. I don't even know if we killed Negan. The last one I shot today said he was, but I'm not sure I believed him."
"Why not?"
"It could've been a loyalty thing. Going down with the ship as it sank."
"I'm not following."
"If he wasn't Negan, and just saying he was, it could be because he was trying to throw us off the trail and make us think we got the right guy while the real one is still out there. Kinda like a decoy. You know what I mean?"
Carl nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. I guess I'd do the same as that guy," the teen remarked. "If someone came here wanting to kill you, I'd say I was you to keep whoever it was away from you."
"Don't say that, Carl. And I don't ever want you doing anything like that, either, understand me?" Rick almost blanched at the thought of his son taking sacrificing himself for him. Not after everything that had happened two months ago. "If something like that ever happened, and someone wanted me, you tell them where I went or you tell them to wait for me. Don't be me. Be yourself." Walking up to his Carl, he placed a hand on the side of the boy's head and kissed the top of it. "I love you, Carl."
"I love you, too, dad." As Rick stepped back, Carl raised his head. "I was gonna give Judith something to eat soon and then get her ready for bed. You wanna watch a movie or play some cards afterward?"
Rick's shoulders slumped. "I'd love nothing more than to watch a movie or play cards with you, Carl, but I can't do it tonight. I haven't slept a wink in almost two days. I'm smell, I'm hungry and I'm exhausted. I gotta make some rounds tomorrow morning, check on some things; but afterward I'll cash in that rain check. Whatever you want to do, you got me for."
"Anything?" Carl questioned with a devilish smile.
Rick shook his head and snickered. "Within reason."
"I'll hold you to that, then."
Stepping out of the living room, Rick unzipped his coat and hung it up on the hook near the front door. "Thank you again for taking care of Judith for me," he remarked, pausing and looking back at his children.
"No prob, Bob."
"I'm just gonna say goodnight to you now. I might not make it back down here to get something to eat after my shower. I'll probably be too tired, and crash the second I get into bed."
"Okay, then. 'Night, dad." Carl stood up and swooped his baby sister into his arms; turning her around and making her wave at their father. "Say goodnight," he urged her as if she actually understood.
"Blahba dada da."
Rick chuckled. "Right back at ya, Judy." He blew her a kiss and found amusement in how she mimicked the gesture; smacking her lips against the palm of her hand and then blowing a raspberry in the air."
His heart swelling with the love for his children, he smiled all the way up the stairs to the second floor and disappeared into his and Georgie's bedroom. She wasn't in there, though the lamp on her side of the bed was on, suggesting she'd been in the room recently. With the bedroom door open, he could hear the muffled sound of water running from the upstairs bathroom, so he knew Georgie had already started washing up without him.
Not wanting to dally any longer, he undid his utility belt and his regular belt, removing them both and setting them down across on the chair in the corner, but making sure to set his Colt down upon his bedside table for easy access during the night. Just in case he had to literally jump out of bed to defend himself like when Jesus wandered in days ago and scared the shit out of him. Lifting his shirt off over his head, Rick tossed it to the floor, not caring where exactly, and wandered back out of the bedroom. He knocked twice on the bathroom door and twisted the knob to find the door was unlocked.
"It's me," he announced, slipping inside and then locking the door behind him. "You started without me," he added, unzipping his pants and stepping out of them. Looking down, he saw her pile of discarded clothes so he kicked his pants over to them.
"Only the showering part," Georgie replied.
Approaching the glass, shower door, Rick pulled it open and Georgie stepped aside to give him room to stand under the spray. He immediately felt like a hundred bucks. The steam entered his pores and the tolerably hot water pelted his bare skin, making all the aches and pains go away. Thankful for such a roomy shower stall, Georgie was able to go about shaving her legs in one corner while Rick began to lather shampoo onto his scalp and wash away the grease and dirt, and just the last thirty-six hours in general.
"You're starting to stink perty," Georgie quipped as she stood up for a moment before leaning back down to work on her other leg.
Rick smirked as he turned around and tipped his head back, allowing the water to rinse his hair out. "I might need a trim again soon," he commented. "My hair's starting to get longer. It's curling too much at the base of my neck."
"I like it longer. More to grab onto."
"You want me looking like Grizzly Adams again?" Running a hand down his face, Rick turned and looked at her as he reached for the body wash next.
"That is how I first knew you, after all," she replied. "That's the physical version of you I became attracted to first."
"So basically you're saying I'm not as good-looking when I'm clean-shaven with shorter hair?"
"Exactly. You look like a turd." Georgie stood up and was giggling at her own joke. Leaning forward, she stood on tiptoe and kissed the tip of his nose before setting her razor aside and taking the body wash from him. "A handsome turd, though."
"Better than just a regular turd, I guess. I'll take what I can get." Spitting out some water that entered his mouth when he was speaking, he studied Georgie's face and smile down at her before properly kissing her back. "Sorry I was late to the shower."
"S'okay," she shrugged, lathering the body wash onto a blue bath loofah and began to run it his shoulders and arms for him. "I figured you were playing catch up with Carl."
"I was," he confirmed, watching how she slipped behind him so she could scrub between his shoulder blades and down his back to his ass. When she gave a playful squeeze to both cheeks, it drew the expected reaction out of him. As he found himself growing hard under her innocent ministrations, Rick reached back to grab her hand that was holding the loofah and brought it around his waist to his front, urging it downward so she got the hint.
With a knowing smirk, Georgie pressed her slick, bare chest against his back. Gripping his left hip with her left hand to hold him in place, she let her right hand wash his southern baubles and bits with the loofah without allowing him any release from the gesture. After a few moments, she stepped back and rinsed the loofah and then set it aside the same she did with her razor. Stepping back around to stand in front of him, his cock rubbed against her stomach as she drew closer to him. With little urging needed, she got Rick to take a step back to give her the room she needed as she sank down to her knees before him and took a gentle hold of him. Taking the head of his cock into her mouth, she gripped the base more firmly with her right hand, turning her head in a corkscrew motion that immediately elicited such a guttural moan from his throat. Dropping his hands onto her head and snaking his fingers within her wet, ginger locks, Rick bit down on his bottom lip as he watched him take him in a little more at a time while fondling his balls at the same time.
It didn't take long for him to climax either; especially not with the way she dragged her tongue around her entire length. When she swallowed every drop he spilled down her throat, Rick let out the most satiated sigh ever and took another step back to lean against the cool, wet tile of the shower. He dick might've gone limp at the moment thanks to that beautiful orgasm she'd given him, but he wasn't about to not return the favor.
As Georgie stood up, Rick maneuvered her to lean her back against the perpendicular shower wall. Due to his aching knees, it was more of a struggle for him to get down onto them on the shower stall floor, but once he was there, he wasted no time in hoisting one her legs up over his shoulder. Leaning his face forward, he pressed his mouth to her mound, letting his tongue drag gingerly between her soft folds which were already warm and slick for him; and not because of the water. He already knew from her having told him once before that she got stimulated over the act of orally pleasing him, and not even because she was expecting him to do the same for her. She didn't expect it in return every time she did it. More often than not he did it anyway, because he loved her and he wanted to. That and he enjoyed the taste of her.
Suctioning his lips around her clit, he sucked hard on it before pushing two fingers into her pulsing center, pumping them in and out. As she began to squirm from her oncoming orgasm, Rick was surprised when she pushed his face away from her and slid her leg down from his shoulder.
"What?" he asked as he looked up at her. "Leg cramp?"
"No, I want to finish this in our room is all."
Rick was truly baffled by how she could just stop him like that. Her willpower was something to behold, because he sure as shit couldn't stop her when she was pleasuring him, just to change locations. Not unless they got interrupted by a third party, and by then the mood was usually killed and he was miserably blue-balled.
Turning off the water, Georgie helped him up off his knees and ushered him out of the shower stall as she followed after. Having thought ahead, she had brought a robe with her in place of the dirty clothes she had changed out of, whereas Rick was stuck with simply throwing a towel around his waist. They both left their clothes behind in the bathroom and hurried out of there like a couple of teenagers up to no good. And in the same vein of thinking, it almost felt like they were misbehaving given the massacre they were responsible for at the compound barely eighteen hours ago.
Perhaps that was even more of a reason to carry on as they were. What better way to celebrate being alive than by having sex? Even more so when it was with the person you loved. It made it all the more better.
Disappearing quickly into their room, and shutting the door behind them, Georgie took lead and pushed Rick backward onto the bed. She didn't even wait for him to lay normally along the bed. He fell back across the mattress and watched with eager eyes as she opened up her robe and climbed up onto the bed over him. While she hovered momentarily above his waist, Rick undid the towel and pulled it open, revealing his awoken member, which was ready for round two.
Placing one hand upon his chest, Georgie used the other to guide herself down onto him; sliding languidly all the way down to take him all the way in. As she rested both her hands upon his chest, she hunched forward slightly and clenched her inner walls around him, inciting a grunt of pleasure from him. Slowly, she moved up his length before slowly coming back down. Rick's hands sought out her hips, gripping before deciding to bring them up higher to her chest. As she began to bounce up and down, her began to roll her nipples between his fingers which brought forth a happy coo from her lips
As Rick bucked his hips upward to meet hers, he moved one of his hands away from her breasts; reaching one around to the small of her back as he urged her to lean down a bit more. Taking the hint, Georgie did just that, which allowed him to lean his face upward to take one nipple into his mouth and suckle on it. She braced herself in that position by planting her hands on either side of his head and he brought the hand that was on the small of her back around her hip and down between them to flick at her clit with his thumb.
In no time at all, her orgasm forced her body to tense and her body to shudder like she'd been struck by lightning, all while her inner walls fluttered around him.
As she began to slump forward, spent from her orgasm, at least for now, Rick wrapped his arms around her back and rolled her around so that he was on top. He began to thrust up into her so he could finish, in the midst of the last spasms of her orgasm occasionally shaking her. When he came, Rick dropped down on top of her with a similar shudder. He took a moment to gather himself before sliding out of her and rolling over to lay beside her; both staring up at the ceiling.
"I'm so tired. You officially wore me out."
"Awesome," Georgie smiled. Raising her right hand, she held it up toward him.
Turning to see what she was doing, Rick smirked. Lifting his left hand, he brought it over to hers and high fived her. "Good job. Great form. I really enjoyed how sank that hole in one."
Georgie chuckled heartily. "Nice follow through. You're like a magician with that nine iron of yours."
Rolling onto his side, Rick leaned his head forward so he could nuzzle his face against her neck, the stubble causing her to flinch, but in a good way. In response, he began to kiss his way up her neck to her jaw instead before he reached across to her shoulder furthest from him and turned her toward him so that he could kiss her properly on the lips.
Raising a hand to touch her fingertips gingerly along the side of his face, and up to his temple, Georgie looked him in the eye and smiled with deep contentment. "You make me happy," she muttered quietly, brushing her thumb along his cheekbone.
"When skies are grey," he countered, referencing the 'You Are My Sunshine'.
Georgie chuckled again, but this time quieter and more inhibited. "I'm tired."
"Me, too."
Forcing herself to get up, Georgie sauntered slowly away from the bed and pulled open a drawer to their dresser, removing a pair of underwear for herself to put on and a pair of boxers which she tossed in Rick's direction. "In case another Jesus moment happens," she gave as an explanation when he raised an eyebrow at her in regard to why she threw them at him.
When he nodded in understanding, they both quietly slipped into their undergarments while Georgie also removed one of his T-shirts to pull over her head and wear as a pajama top. Pulling her still damp locks out from under the head hole, Georgie returned back to the bed and plopped down on her side before reaching over to the lamp and finally turning it off.
The pair of them fell into their quiet routine of getting comfortable in bed so they could fall asleep; pushing off the heavier duvet and only using the simple, white bedsheet to cover up with. They both rolled onto their sides, legs almost immediately finding a comfortable way of intertwining together as Rick became the big spoon to her little spoon. The cherry on top was Rick draping his arm over her waist and Georgie grabbing his hand and pulling it toward her chest to rest just over her heart.
They closed their eyes, listening to each other's breath grow steadier.
"Love you," Rick muttered against her shoulder.
"Love you, too."
The following week moved slow, and it was welcomed.
Life quieted back down within Alexandria and everyone fell back into their normal routines. There were no outside threats that came knocking at their doors—living or dead. There were no major injuries anyone was recovering from.
There was animosity anywhere, other than the dirty looks Rosita was giving Abraham, but that was due to the fact that they had apparently broken up the same day they had headed out to the Savior's compound. And now it seemed Abraham was cozying up with Sasha, which put the latter in the line of fire where Rosita's eye daggers were concerned. However, Rosita seemed to also be cozying up to Spencer, who seemed to follow her around like a puppy dog. That coupling could be chalked up mostly to him being her rebound, and him displacing his feelings of grief over losing his entire family onto Rosita the second she showed him any form of affection.
That, specifically, was the professional opinion of Denise, who shared it with Georgie one morning over coffee in the infirmary.
Georgie wasn't big on gossip, especially among her group, which she still thought of in a separate capacity from the original Alexandrian residents. Denise didn't seem like the gossiping type either, but it was obvious she had mostly interacted with Tara, and now that Tara was gone on her two-week supply run with Heath, Denise didn't really interact with much of anyone else except for Rosita. Talking about Rosita's personal business directly to her was just something Denise wouldn't and couldn't bring herself to do, hence the reason she was able to unload on Georgie when she came to the infirmary. The only reason Georgie was there to begin with was to thank Denise for giving her extra Tylenol for the headache she'd had the day before, only for Denise to excitably start rattling on about minor things like how nice the weather was lately and how rainy days were only good for when you had a good book you wanted to curl up into bed with. After an offer of coffee, Denise got more chatty, likely due to the caffeine pulsing through her bloodstream, and that was when she began to blurt out her thoughts on Rosita and Spencer, as well as Abraham and Sasha, and how—as guilty as it made her feel to talk about it—it was closest thing she had to the soap operas she used to watch as a guilty pleasure.
"I was all about One Life to Live. Natalie Buchanan was my favorite character, mostly because she was just this gorgeous redhead and I'm a boob girl."
Georgie, a redhead, raised her eyebrow at Denise. "Oh?"
Denise giggled nervously. "Sorry, when I drink too much coffee I can't shut up, but you'd never know that normally because I am for the most part an introvert, but you're pretty easy to talk to, and well, I haven't had much to do lately and with Tara gone…I'm just kinda…kinda like how I was when Jake was alive and the doctor here." Denise winced and sat up straight at the infirmary's kitchen island where she was sitting beside Georgie. "Sorry, sorry. I know bringing his name up isn't cool given what he did to you and I'm just gonna," Denise mimicked zipping her lips, "shut up."
"It's okay. He has no power over me, even in death," Georgie assured, taking a sip of her coffee. "I was an idiot, confused by my loyalty to my son and all those feelings of how my marriage had once been with Jake conflicting about how my feelings for him had become. I made the wrong decision to stay in that house with Jake, for the wrong reasons. I feel like I forgot who I really was and I became this different person. I told myself no man would ever treat me the way he did in that short amount of time. I even threatened him years ago he would never treat me in such a way. But that was back when he was a good guy. The new world changed him and it changed how I reacted around him. He terrified me and when people get terrified, it's hard to make a run for it." She sat up straight and flexed her shoulders backward as she briefly recalled the fear she'd felt looking into Jake's eyes and how devoid of emotion they had become when he looked at her. "The best way I can explain it is when a child has a nightmare, and they're too scared to jump out of bed to tell their parents. They know their mom and dad will comfort them and tell them there's nothing to be afraid of and prove there are no monsters under the bed or in the closet, but that kid can't seem to move. They're paralyzed by fear so all they do is pull the covers over their head and just hope it goes away."
"I should cross off my name on my degree and you can be the resident psychiatrist here," Denise commented teasingly, but then grew serious. "That's a very astute description. I never thought about it like that."
"I've had time to formulate my reasoning over the last couple months."
"I guess so."
Looking into her now empty coffee cup, Georgie turned and smile at Denise as she stood up. "Well, I should probably get going. I have some laundry I need to do, and I promised Maggie I'd come by around lunch time with Judith."
"Oh, yeah, of course. I didn't mean to keep you," Denise apologized, mimicking Georgie by hopping down from her stool.
"No, it's okay. It was nice to chat."
"Well, I'm always here if you wanna swing by again. It doesn't have to be for a medical emergency, either. And it doesn't have to be an everyday thing. Or even tomorrow. No pressure." Denise winced and pushed her glasses up. "Sorry. Rattling. Too much caffeine. I need to cut myself off after the second cup and switch to water. But…yeah…"
She followed Georgie to the front door and smiled awkwardly.
Just walking by on the road before them at that moment was Rick, bowlegged as usual, with his hands shoved into his coat pockets. Georgie got his attention by wolf-whistling at him and then winking at him. As he stopped and turned to see who was whistling at him, he shook his head and snickered.
"Right back atcha," he called over to her. Averting his gaze, he greeted Denise with a nod and a polite smile. "Morning, Denise."
"Morning, Rick."
As he remained standing there, sensing Georgie was leaving the infirmary and not first arriving, he waited for her to join him on the road while squinting from the sunlight overhead.
"Thanks again for the coffee," Georgie remarked. "And I think I'll hold you to that offer of another coffee klatch. How's the day after tomorrow?"
Denise smiled and nodded. "Yeah, totally."
"Alright. I'll see you around." With a small, polite wave, Georgie stepped off the small porch and sauntered up beside Rick.
As the two of them began their walk up the road together, he turned to look at her. "What were you in there for? More Tylenol?"
Georgie snickered. "No, I came by to thank her for it, though and ended up staying for coffee and gossip."
Rick made a face. "I didn't peg Denise for the gossiping type."
"She isn't. I just think she's lonely with Tara gone, and with no injuries or health scares in the community lately, she's bored as well. No one seems to visit her otherwise." Lifting her arm, she linked it through Rick's and leaned closer to him. "I did learn from her that not only is Abraham and Sasha now a couple, but Rosita is rebounding with Spencer."
"Like sands in the hourglass, these are the Days of our Lives…"
"Funny you should say that, because Denise mentioned soap operas and how her favorite character was a redhead with big tits."
"Mine, too," he teased.
Georgie rolled her eyes. "My tits aren't big by any means."
"They fit in my hands just fine. I'd say they were big enough."
Giving him a playful shove, Georgie looked up at Rick. "Where were you this morning."
"Walking the perimeter and making my morning rounds. Nothing unusual, completely uneventful," he answered. "I just came from our makeshift holding cell in the basement of that one townhouse where I was put for the night, and where Morgan's been the last week."
"What's he been up to besides the tai chi or whatever it is he does with his stick?"
"I think tai chi is what it is." Rick shook his head. "He built a jail cell. Bricks and mortar, bars on the window, and a barred door. The whole nine yards."
Georgie made a face. "Really? Why?"
"That's what I asked him. He said so it would give me more options." Emitting a sigh, Rick frowned. "I know he still means well, but it's still a bit annoying when he does shit like that. I almost wanted to lock him in that cell and tell him to enjoy it. I know that makes me an asshole."
Georgie squeezed his arm with hers. "Yeah, but you're my asshole."
"Yeah," he smacked his lips. "Love you, too."
Three and a half days later, the coffee date Georgie was supposed to have with Denise never happened. Denise had apologized and asked to postpone it until the next day because she was going on a small run for more meds with Rosita and Daryl. Abraham and Eugene had also gone out for the day for who knows what reason. Georgie didn't exactly keep tabs on everyone the way Rick did when anyone left the safety of Alexandria's walls. Not that she asked him, either. She figured if it was something she needed to know, he'd tell her.
Later that afternoon, as she sat on the living room floor with Judith, building a pyramid with the red solo cups she loved so much and letting her giggle as she knocked them all down, Rick came home looking gravely solemn.
Georgie sat up straighter and furrowed her brow at him. "What's wrong?"
Quietly, he walked into the living room and sank down into one of the large chairs while staring intermittently between the floor and Judith. "Denise is dead."
Georgie's heart sank. "What?"
"The Savior that stole Daryl's crossbow shot her through the head with one of the bolts meant for Daryl. They had to leave her body behind, though, because Eugene during a firefight with the Saviors. They carried him back to their truck and just brought him back. Rosita's taking care of him right now. He should be fine, but Daryl took off again to go retrieve Denise's body a few minutes ago."
"Oh…okay," Georgie muttered sadly.
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?"
"Because she was becoming your friend," Rick replied, looking up at her. "And now's she gone. And because we didn't get all the Saviors, which means that threat is still out there and…I don't know what to do anymore."
Pushing up to her feet, Georgie left Judith to play contentedly in the center of the floor as she walked over to Rick and sank down on the armrest of the chair he sat in. Dragging her fingers through his hair, pushing a stray lock off his forehead, she sighed. "It's not your fault today happened the way it did. You didn't pulled the trigger on that crossbow. You couldn't have known more Saviors would find our people and kill one of us."
"But the possibility existed."
"And how were you to prevent it from happening without knowing where anymore of them have been hiding? We don't know how many there are or how spread out they are and, sure, that's terrifying. But we took out the threats we did know of. You can't control what other people do no more than you can control the rain from rolling in from time to time." Georgie leaned her head forward and pressed her forehead to his. "We're only human, Rick. We make mistakes, we act out fear, we worry, and we fear. We all have our faults. But this isn't one of those moments. This wasn't Daryl's fault for losing his crossbow to that Savior, this wasn't your fault for not somehow knowing the location and killing every last Savior that exists. The Saviors are bad people who kill innocent lives for power, because they're bullies."
"We kill people."
"Bad people, when it's necessary. Not because we want to, but because we need to. We do it to keep our family, our people safe, so we can live our lives, and now that we know there are definitely more Saviors out there, we'll continue to do what we need to do for as long as we have to." Guiding his face toward hers so he would look back at her, she held his gaze. "And I'll be by your side every time, helping you protect everything we have."
Lifting his arms up, Rick placed his hands on her hips and pulled her down from the armrest and down onto his lap. Pulling her legs up toward her chest, Georgie practically curled up into a ball as she leaned her head down onto his shoulder.
"I should let Gabriel know we're gonna need him for another funeral," Rick muttered.
"Okay, but first let's just sit here like this for a little longer and watch Judith play."
"Sounds ideal."
As if sensing they were talking about her, Judith turned around and looked at the pair.
She smiled at them, revealing more of her teeth coming in.
Despite how happy she made them feel when they looked at her, neither could shake the dark cloud moving over their heads.
"Who's gonna tell Tara when she gets home?" Georgie wondered aloud.
"She's always been closest to Rosita. I suppose Rosita will, especially since Rosita was there when it happened," Rick replied. "She'd be able to answer any questions Tara had about how it went down, and be able to comfort her."
Both of them sighed simultaneously; the sadness of another loss in their community turning their blue skies grey.
Denise was buried in a shallow grave, much like everyone else buried in the small cemetery in Alexandria. Daryl had brought her body back and dug the grave, with Carol assisting him with tossing the dirt back in. Not many from within Alexandria came 'round for the funeral and instead chose to grieve quietly in their homes instead of coming out to pay their respects to their community's only doctor.
Gabriel said a few nice words, recited a fitting bible verse and everyone who had actually showed up retreated back to their homes; grief heavy on their hearts.