Author's Note: So, once again I decided to post early because I just couldn't wait. Probably just the one chapter left after this until the hiatus begins.

In other news, I bleached my hair tonight so I could dye it lavender in about a week or so, and my hair is now half yellow and half dark blonde because apparently my hair had other plans. Like being a douchebag. That being said, ENJOY! And, as always, do that voodoo that you do and READ & REVIEW!

Heh.

I rhymed.

xoxo —Holly

"Acceptance of what has happened is the first step to overcoming the consequences of any misfortune." — William James

There was no going back to sleep after the chaos.

Daybreak wasn't too far away anyway and the community was busy until then with gathering up their newly dead and bringing them outside where more graves had been dug. Those that had been bitten on limbs that could be cut off to prevent the spread of infection were now being treated by Siddiq in the medical trailer. He was the only medical professional left since Dr. Dana and Kurt, both from the Kingdom, were among the dead who had been bitten and turned early on in the night, and probably by Tobin.

There were other issues that had come up as well. Half of the POWs had somehow managed to escape, but the other half had remained, which included Alden; having decided their loyalties would now lie with the Hilltop and the other two communities. Simon had, after all, made it known that the POWs meant shit to him and the rest of the Saviors. Then, there was the problem with Henry being missing. Enid had asked around and been informed by the remaining Saviors that the boy had entered the pen where the POWs had been kept with a gun, demanding to know which one of them had killed his brother. However, when the screams in the house began, a few POWs were also turning. The ensuing chaos was enough of a distraction for those POWs to slip out of Hilltop and no one had noticed what had happened to Henry after that. One minute he had been there, and the next he wasn't.

Carol was already in a panic even from not knowing where Henry was. She was running around, calling for the boy, with Ezekiel at her side and Jerry not too far behind. So, when after Enid told her what she'd learned, they all ran off together to determine where Henry could gotten off to.

Georgie hadn't been privy to that search party. She had heard Carol and Ezekiel calling Henry's name and hurrying around the community, leaving no stone unturned, but she had been occupied with Judith, having chosen to stay in the bedroom until sun up with Judith while she slept. Georgie hadn't slept, though. She couldn't. Her mind was too wired and the tenseness that had been left lingering in the air between Rick and her even after he'd left the room she just couldn't shake. They rarely, if ever fought or argued. And even though what had transpired between them had been neither a fight nor an argument of any kind, it still had that feeling of one. She had pulled a chair over to a window and watched the goings-on from upstairs, off and on, for a couple hours until there came a knock at the door.

Upon answering, Georgie saw it was just Barbara, and she was holding Gracie in her arms.

"Is Judith up? Do you need me to watch her at all? Everyone seems so busy, but I didn't see you outside with the others. I figured if maybe you needed some relief…" Barbara spoke rather shyly, and looked as if she was nervous to look Georgie in the eye.

Georgie wasn't sure if that was because Barbara was intimidated by her or if it was just Barbara's personality in general. What Georgie could gauge, though, from why her fellow ginger seemed so eager to offer up her services to take care of any and all children within Hilltop, was likely due to needing to fill the void she was feeling over losing her own children a couple of nights ago in Alexandria. Like Rick, Barbara was not ready to face her own grief fully just yet and instead wanted to busy herself with distractions.

"Sure," Georgie nodded. Despite Rick's angst and sudden desire for her to be some damsel tucked away in a tower for safekeeping, Georgie was not one to sit idly by for too long when there was work to be done. She could mother Judith and contribute to this community without breaking a sweat if need be. Stepping aside, she allowed Barbara into the room and gestured toward Judith in the crib. "She's still asleep though."

"That's okay," Barbara replied quietly, patting the bulging side pocket of her cargo pants. "I've got a bottle to feed Gracie for now. When Judith wakes up, I'll see if she's hungry or needs to go to the bathroom."

"Michonne succeeded in getting her to finally use the toilet yesterday morning. But the rest of the day she would only go in a diaper. If you can get her to use a toilet again, Rick and I will be forever indebted to you."

Barbara smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, Barb," Georgie remarked, placing a hand on the other woman's shoulder before slipping out of the room.

Upon descending the stairs to the main floor, Georgie looked toward Maggie's office but found it empty, so she continued onward out the front door. Taking pause, she shoved her hands into her back pants and looked around; assessing who was doing what and figuring out where everyone was. Moving along the side of the house near all the FEMA trailers, she made her way back toward the graveyard where she came upon Jerry and Jesus covering up the last of the graves and then leaning on the handles of their shovels.

Maggie was standing a few feet away from both men, staring out at how the number of graves had doubled in just a day. Rick and Michonne stood behind her, Dianne was beside her. Georgie approached the former pair, letting her hand drag gently across Rick's upper back to alert him that she was there before he actually saw her come to stand on the other side of him. She let her hand drop down to the small of his back and then she removed it entirely so she could fold her arms across her chest. After his brief glance at her, Rick had turned his gaze forward. Out the corner of her eye, Georgie couldn't tell if he was bothered by the fact that she was outside and not inside with Judith, or if it was truly just his grief still weighing down on him and not leaving him alone. Either way, Georgie could tell that tenseness was still there between them.

"What is it?" Dianne asked, looking at Maggie.

"The cost."

Rick's gaze focused on the back of Maggie's head, and then around at everyone standing there. With a clenched jaw, he turned and began to walk off. Georgie stared after him, wondering if she should just stay and give him his space, but she couldn't do it. She didn't want him to stew in those turbulent thoughts he was very undoubtedly thinking.

Stepping away from the graves, Georgie followed after Rick at a leisurely pace, making sure to keep a certain distance as not to be bothersome to him. He was moving around the back of the house and, by the time he was turning toward the front of the house, she knew he was aware of her following. In the openness of that side of the property, Rick stopped walking and just stood there. Inhaling a deep breath, he turned around to face her.

"What?" he asked; his tone not angry or annoyed, but merely tired.

There were a few things Georgie had thought about saying to him over the last few hours, about everything going on and everything that had happened, but none of it seemed worth saying at the moment anymore. Instead she shrugged and walked forward; closing the gap between their bodies until she stood barely a foot in front of him. As she looked up at him, he looked down at her, but he wouldn't look her in the eye.

Placing one hand on his shoulder, Georgie brought her other hand up to the side of his face; brushing her thumb along the salt and pepper whiskers of his beard. "I love you," was what she chose to say to him, and nothing more. Standing slightly upon tiptoe, Georgie leaned her face up and kissed the corner of his mouth. Taking half a step back from him, she dropped the hand from his face and let the other linger away from his shoulder, down his arm and then grabbed briefly onto his hand. When she moved to walk away from him, she gave his hand a squeeze and then released her grip.

The sadness she felt for what he was going through jogged up more of her own grief for their lost children. Walking away from Rick, she let her shoulders slump and wiped fresh tears from her eyes before they fell. Once she reached the front of the house, she turned left and made her way over to the front steps, not knowing whether or not Rick had remained where she'd left him or if he'd found something else to busy himself with. She hadn't sensed following after her when she walked back into the house.

Rick hadn't known how to react to Georgie's loving gesture. With how he'd left things with her after the house had been cleared in the wee hours of the morning, he felt she would've been within her rights to ignore him or call him out for the way he'd spoken to her.

He'd known it was a shitty, that she hadn't deserved that. She had been nothing but kind and patient with him the last couple of days. She was giving him the space she felt he needed and he was grateful for it, but he hated it, too. His pride wouldn't let him break down and blubber like a baby in her arms over losing Carl, but that was all he wanted to do. But he couldn't bring himself to be the one who did it. He couldn't make the first move at opening up or seeking solace from her. His pride required her to just know; to walk right up to him and drag him into their temporary room here at Hilltop and force him into a big hug where she didn't let go until he started to cry.

He knew a cry was what he needed. What little sobbing he'd done while Carl was dying and immediately after he'd died had not been enough. Those had been tears of shock and anguish. Even when he'd gone off through the woods and into that open field with his and Negan's letters and radioed Negan to tell him Carl was dead, and when Negan had blamed him for his own son's death, he hadn't really cried then. Not crying was giving him a fucking headache. He tried rationalizing that he couldn't face his grief just yet because there wasn't time. Or, it was pointless to grieve because it wasn't going to bring Carl back. But, he knew that was bullshit. He knew grieving would help; he just didn't want to be bothered with it. He didn't want to grieve because he didn't want to accept that Carl was never coming back. He couldn't accept that his only son was dead and buried and he would have to live the rest of his life without ever seeing or hearing Carl's voice, or even hugging him ever again.

Rick wasn't ready to face those facts.

He wasn't ready to accept his loss.

So, he wallowed or he got angry. He went after Negan on his own to kill him, but Negan got away and that just made him angrier. The Saviors had attacked and injured his people with tainted weapons, and then let those injuries infect his people so they would die, turn and kill more of their people. Their numbers were dropping every day. He wasn't the only one who had lost someone he loved dearly and cherished more than anything in this godforsaken world, and that made him angry for two reasons. One: because good people were dying. And two: because he was angry with himself.

Why was he angry with himself? Because he was feeling selfish.

Why was he feeling selfish? Because he felt like his grief was worse and more important than anyone else's, and how dare anyone for not dwelling on the fact that Carl was dead like he was?

He knew that vein of thinking wasn't right. So, he tried to avoid thinking of it at all. But avoiding it, avoiding his grief, was causing a churning of emotions in him that was half melancholy and half rage, and he was never sure which one was going to show up at any given moment.

When Georgie said she loved him, kissed him and then left him be he felt guilty. He was realizing more and more how it had been for her each time she lost her children, and he knew she grieved for Carl, too, and yet, here she was, placating him. It made him admire her and love her more than he already did, and it also made him feel like a bit of an asshole.

Lifting a hand to his face, he wiped at an errant tear that had escaped down his cheek and turned to face the direction Georgie had gone; the direction he'd initially been heading. Squaring his shoulders, Rick began to walk off again, heading round the front of the house. He stopped and looked around, trying to see where Georgie might've gone off to, but he only saw their friends, busying themselves.

Carol was chopping wood and talking rather seriously with Ezekiel. Daryl was messing with his bolts, sitting on the tailgate of a truck and talking to Tara. Michonne, he'd left back at the graves with Maggie and the others there. Rosita was up on a watch post with Enid. Those were just the main friends he could easily spot. The others were around somewhere.

But Georgie was the one he was looking for.

Rick needed to at least apologize to her for early this morning and how he'd spoken to her.

Walking over toward the truck where Daryl and Tara were, he gave them a nod of his; hoping his interruption was coming at the end of their conversation and not in the middle. "D'you see where Georgie went?" he asked, resting his left hand atop his hatchet and hooking his right thumb through a belt loop. "I need to talk to her."

"I passed her coming out of the house," Tara offered.

"Thanks." As he began to move up the front stairs, Rick stopped halfway and looked back at Tara. "How's your arm doing?"

"Okay. It's been more than twenty-four hours, so I think I'm in the clear," she replied with a slight bob of her head.

Rick reached out and tapped his fingers upon her shoulder in a kindly gesture. "Good. I'm glad."

Without another word, he turned back around and headed up into the house. Instinctively, he turned and looked left, toward the office, but knew there'd be no reason for Georgie to be in there if Maggie was still outside. The only place that made sense for her to be was back in their temporary bedroom.

Most of the steps up to the second floor Rick took one at a time, but a few of them he doubled up on. He was in such a mindset of finding Georgie, and what he was going to say to her, that he wasn't expecting how he would find her. The bedroom door was wide open and he strolled right in without hesitation, but his pace slowed to a staggering halt when he saw she was sitting on the edge of the bed, sniffling, with tears rolling down her face as she was reading her letter from Carl.

Immediately, it felt like an arrow had pierced his heart, and he recoiled for half a second. This time, though, he wasn't feeling his own grief, but theirs.

Georgie was rereading the last words on the sheet of paper; a blubbering mess at how they made her feel and how important they were to her. She turned to look up at Rick when he sauntered into their room and she moved up off the mattress and turned her body toward him. She tried to say something, anything, but nothing slipped from her lips. Instead, Rick walked right up to her and cupped the side of her face; letting her lean into his palm before he brushed some of her hair from away from her watery eyes. She stood there, staring up at him and how his features softened for her. She watched him as he touched his fingers upon her face, wiping her tears away for her. He suddenly didn't look like a man who was grieving or angry about anything. He just looked like a man in love.

"He told me he loved me," Georgie muttered, casting her eyes down toward the letter in her hand. Turning the paper around, she held it up so Rick could see, and pointed to the words she was referring to. "See?" She turned it back toward her and read, "'I wish there'd been more time for us to become closer. I would've enjoyed having you as a mom. I love you. Carl.'" When she looked up at Rick she saw he was stepping away from her and moving over toward the closet. "Are you going out again?"

Holding his jacket in his hands, he nodded. "We need food," he deflected. He didn't want to think about Carl or his letters right now. "I'm gonna go find some."

All plans on coming to talk to Georgie had changed. He had begun feeling very anxious the moment she read from Carl's letter to her and he suddenly needed to be far away. Not from her, though; just…from everything.

"Rick," she spoke, reaching out and grabbing at his wrist. "Don't leave. Just…stay. Stay here. Be here."

"I…I can't…I need to…"

Tears were welling quickly in his eyes, and he was shaking his head, wanting to tell her no, but he could get the words out. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes; unprepared for the fresh wave of grief that was beginning to wash over him. Georgie set her letter down on the bed and grabbed his jacket from him; tossing that onto the bed as well. As he rocked on the heels of his boots, she grabbed onto the sides of his shirt and pulled him toward her; snaking her hands up his back and holding tightly onto him.

"It's okay. It's gonna be okay," she tried to soothe him.

Rick leaned his head down, pressing it down onto her shoulder; his arms falling uselessly at his sides. He was a moment away from just finally being able to let it all out and cry again, but they were interrupted by Barbara walking into the room with Judith.

The couple broke apart almost instantly at the intrusion. Rick turned away as not to be seen looking so weak, while Georgie turned toward Barbara and forced a small smile onto her lips.

"Sorry," Barbara remarked; sensing she'd intruded on something important. "She was asking for her mommy and daddy."

Georgie glanced down at the little girl was standing beside Barbara and holding her hand. She was already smiling upon seeing her parents and pulled her hand out of Barbara's to hurry over to Georgie as fast as her toddler legs would take her. Barbara didn't bother to verbally excuse herself. She just quietly slipped away to give Rick and Georgie their privacy back. As Georgie lifted the girl into her arms, she hugged her and kissed her, and then turned around to face Rick who was slowly turning toward them.

"Here," Georgie spoke, passing Judith to him. "Daddy needs a big hug from you."

Accepting his daughter into his arms, he welcomed her arms as they readily slid around his neck and she squeezed as tight as she could. She even took it a step farther and planted a peck on his lips before smiling shyly at him.

"Stay here with her. Be here for her," Georgie continued.

Letting her hand linger on Judith's back for a moment or two, she then stepped closer to the bed and grabbed her letter. Folding it up, she opened up the top drawer of the tallboy dresser and stuck the letter in on the left side; opposite from where Rick's and Negan's letters were. When she glanced over at Rick, he looked like a hot mess. He looked like the human personification of Band-Aid covering a gaping crack in a wall. He was barely holding it together, but Judith was very hard to detach from. Her little face, and just her in general, certainly helped keep him from falling completely apart.

Knowing Rick needed this right now, this one on one time with his daughter, she left the room.

For the next hour or so, give or take, Rick sat there in the bedroom watching Judith playing on the floor with her two stuffed animals, a set of toy blocks and a bowl of dry cereal to eat as a snack. He hadn't been actively interacting with her. He was more or less letting her do her own thing, but occasionally she would get up and hand him some of her blocks to get him to play. So, he would oblige her and look at the blocks in his hand, turn them around and around, and figure out words he could spell with them. He would then set them down, point out the word and say it so she could see the letters and possibly learn it. He knew she was too young to spell or read, but he wasn't sure if she knew her ABC's. That was the kind of thing about Judith he didn't know about, and he regretted that he'd been unable to take a more active role in her development in the last few months. And, he hated to say it, but at the moment he could barely focus on her. All he could think about was Carl.

It didn't help that his old Sherriff's hat that Carl used to wear was sticking out of one of the duffel bags on the floor. It was just there, taunting him; reminding him of what he'd lost. He thought about when he'd first given it to Carl after he'd been shot and was recuperating at Hershel's farm. He could picture how much younger he'd been then, running around with that hat which was too big for his head but wouldn't take it off. It had brought a smile to Rick's face then and now that hat brought him further sorrow. It was like a kick to the leg when he was down.

Sitting there, just staring at it, he could hear Negan's voice in his head, taunting Rick that it was his fault his son was dead; that he was a terrible father. Tears filled his eyes and his jaw clenched and the need to block the feelings he was having and to block out Negan's and his own voice in his head was increasingly great.

Rick's hands shook. In fact, his entire body was practically shaking. He could barely contain everything inside of him and he needed an outlet for it. Being with Judith, as much as he wished he could be more present with her, was not helping right now. He loved her, and would die for her, but he needed to be elsewhere right now.

When a tear managed to slip from the corner of his eye, he abruptly stood up and bent down to swoop Judith up into his arms. "C'mere, sweetheart," he muttered. Reaching for his jacket on the bed, he tucked it under his opposite arm and carried both the jacket and Judith out of the bedroom.

Making his way down the staircase to the first floor, Rick ducked into the room where he knew the younger kids had been corralled lately by Barbara mainly. Not finding anyone in there, Rick ducked across the entrance hall and toward Maggie's office where he found Maggie leaning over her desk and making notes on a map.

"Hey," he greeted quietly.

Looking up, she smiled upon seeing Judith, first and foremost. "How's she holding up?"

Rick glanced at his daughter and nodded. "She's good. I'm not sure she's truly aware of everything that's been going on."

"Oh, to be that young and blissfully unaware again."

"Tell me about it." With a sigh, he shifted Judith a little and walked forward with her. "Can you take her for a little bit, or find Barbara for me, get her to watch her or something?"

Maggie furrowed her brow. "Uh, yeah," she agreed; setting her pencil down and holding her arms out and accepting Judith. "Going somewhere?"

"I gotta do something," he replied. He looked down at the floor and then the wall as he began to pull on his jacket. It was as if looking directly at Maggie would allow her to see how weak and broken he felt. "Those Saviors that escaped…I'm gonna go find them."

"And then what?"

"Kill 'em."

Maggie nodded. "Alright." With a glance from Rick toward one of the front facing windows, she added knowingly, "Georgie's on watch right now. I wouldn't go anywhere without letting her know first."

"Thank you." Giving Judith a small wave goodbye, Rick turned out of the office.

Zipping his jacket up halfway, he looked around the entrance hall and spotted an automatic rifle perched in a corner and grabbed it up. Checking the magazine, he determined there was enough ammo and then carried the gun with him out of the house. Making his way down the front steps, he glanced over at the watch post to the left of the gates and saw Georgie was there with Jerry and Kal. She was looking out, with her back to him, so she didn't see him leave the house and make his way between the small barn and the blacksmiths. It was after he'd reached the unoccupied pen where the Savior POWs had been kept that Georgie was finally made aware of where he was.

Having caught a glimpse of Alexandria's leader out the corner of his eye, Jerry smirked and gently slapped Georgie on the shoulder and then gestured toward the pen. "Your dude is fraternizing with the kinda-sorta-former-but-likely-still-current enemy," he quipped.

Looking around Jerry, she spotted Rick speaking to Alden. "He was supposed to be inside the house spending time with his daughter," she remarked with a sigh. Turning toward the ladder, Georgie moved to climb down from the watch post. Once on the ground, she adjusted the holster that was strapped with a gun to her right leg and then began to a gingerly pace toward the pen.

"…There's an old dive bar three miles off Edgehill Parkway," Alden was in the middle of telling Rick. "Some of them, uh, took me there once. They wanted my expert opinion on what it'd take to turn the place into an outpost. It's between here and there, but the chances they'd actually g—"

Rick turned to walk away before Alden could finish, and he ended up walking almost smack into Georgie.

"Going somewhere, cowboy?" she asked, her hands tucked into her back pockets.

"Hey!" Alden called over at them. "I don't know if this is any kind of a lead, but if you're going out there…it's not for nothing—can you do me a favor?"

Rick turned around and looked at the younger man; mystified by the audacity Alden had for asking him for a favor.

"If you happen to find them…don't kill any more of them than you have to. When it went bad last night, th-they made a choice. It was the wrong choice. Some of them, probably hasn't hit 'em yet. You could show 'em, by bringin' 'em back. You could do that."

Turning his gaze toward Georgie, he shrugged. "Yeah, I could."

The look in his eyes said otherwise to her. She offered Alden a small smile and then turned to follow after Rick as he began walking away without a second thought. "Rick…" she called after him. "Slow your roll."

Stopping in his tracks, just in front of the blacksmiths, he turned to look at her again. "I'm going for those Saviors that escaped last night."

"Yeah, I deduced that much."

After a few moments of just staring at each other, Rick gripped the rifle a bit firmer in his hand and scowled. "Are you mad that I'm leaving?"

"No," she shook her head. "I'm wondering when you're gonna ask me to join you."

Rick furrowed his brow at her and sighed. He wanted to tell her no, that he wanted to do this alone, and that she should stay with Judith, but he couldn't keep doing that to her. Bringing his free hand up to his forehead, he scratched at the space between his eyebrows with his middle finger and then dropped his hand after a moment of contemplation. "Okay, fine. Go get a—" He cut himself when he saw she already had a gun on her. "Alright. C'mon." With a beckoning hand gesture, he led the way over toward a truck. After he climbed into the driver's seat and she into the passenger seat beside him, he started the engine up with the keys left in the ignition. Bringing the truck up to the gates, Rick stuck his head out of the window and cleared his throat. "Jerry, Eduardo—open it up."

The men on the watch posts on either side of the gates began to pull it open without hesitation. As Rick and Georgie passed through, without word to anyone else as to where they were headed, Jerry shouted out for them to come back safely. Georgie looked back over her shoulder at him and gave a small wave through the back window as Rick peeled down the winding dirt road like a bat out of hell.

"Slow down," she urged, reaching forward to grip the dashboard while his rifle slid on the floor by her feet.

"Sorry," he mumbled, lifting his foot off the gas pedal a bit. "I just don't want to give them any more time to put extra distance between us and them."

"What's the plan? Do we know if they're armed? How many of them got away?"

As they wound their way onto the main road, Rick kept his eyes forward. "Kill 'em. Assume they all are. About a dozen," he answered quickly and simply.

Trying to make the mood a little light, Georgie smirked and reached her arm out along the back of the seat with her hand near to the back of his neck. "I love our talks."

Rick cast a brief side glance at her. Normally, he would've smirked right back at her, but he couldn't muster the motivation at this point in time. He found it hard to motivate himself to do anything other than fight. And so, he didn't reply to her quip or make any further conversation. He didn't think she was upset about his silence; he was sure she understood. She'd been in his shoes and she had been good at giving him the space he needed the last couple of days. However, he wasn't fond of complete silence. It made the thoughts in his head that much louder so he was thankful when she made the effort to initiate further conversation with him.

After driving along for a few minutes, Georgie moved her hand onto his shoulder. When he turned to look over at her, she smiled at him, but with her eyes only. "Hey…what Alden said…"

"Who?"

"Alden, the Savior you talked to. That's his name." Off his shrug, which suggested he didn't care, she continued, "If we don't have to kill all of them…if we can give them a chance, we should. For Carl." Rick tilted his head at her and let his expression harden, as if asking her why she had to go there, and she could see that she'd struck a nerve. "It's what he wanted, for us to aim for peace with the Saviors. Negan, he's another story. But these men, I doubt all of them are bad guys. They're just men, fighting on the opposite side. They became Saviors for a reason, just as Morales did. It might've been their only way to survive and they've gotten so used to their current way of life. I know you want to kill 'em all, but we should at least give them the option to come back, to fight with us, not against us." Seeing how he was not overly willing to hear this, she added, "If they refuse, or if they try anything, then we kill 'em. But we gotta…be better. At some point, we gotta be better than them."

Rick tried his best to soften his gaze and tame his anger for her. As he brought the truck to a stop along the edge of the road they'd been driving on, he leaned in close to her face and whispered, "I make no promises."

The corner of Georgie's mouth lifted a little. "I'm not hearing a 'no', though."

With a roll of his eyes, Rick shift the gear into park and released his foot from the brake pedal. Tucking the keys into one of his coat pockets, he reached down and grabbed up his rifle. With a nod of his head, he silently hinted for them to leave the vehicle; that they would be continuing on foot. Once they had both exited the truck, he strapped his rifle over his shoulder and letting it rest behind him on his back, and they both began to walk forward into the woods, with her just a few steps behind him. On their way through, Rick pushed branches out of the way and held them in place so they wouldn't snap back and slap Georgie in the face when she passed by after him. In the distance, they could hear the walkers from the road; some were probably wandering off from the herd and slipping into the woods, so they pair needed to keep their eyes out for that danger, aside from the escaped Saviors that might be hiding out within the tree coverage.

Silently moving forward, Rick hopped over thick tree root protruding above the ground. Having noticed the move he made, Georgie cast her eyes down. Seeing the root as well, she mimicked him and stepped over it more leisurely than he had. Tree branches and twigs snapping not too far away in the woods and the increasingly louder growling of walkers nearby alerted them both. They realized they were upon the next road, but that a sizable portion of the herd was passing right by at the same time.

Quickly, they ducked behind a tree, one behind the other, with Rick holding up a hand to her as not to move. She made a face at that; wondering if he thought she was brand new to this world. As if she would make any sudden noises or movements to attract unwanted attention from a herd.

As they watched silently to see when the herd would finish passing by, Rick removed his Colt just in case he needed it. Georgie had been holding onto hers since leaving the truck, so she was already prepared. They weren't prepared for the sound of soft footsteps behind them, which caught them off guard. Spinning around with their guns raised, they were filled with initial relief when they saw it was only Morgan. When Morgan kept his stick raised at them in a hostile manner and began to advance on them, the relief gave way and confusion and anxiousness.

"Morgan," Rick spoke lowly, holding his other hand up as a sign of conciliation. "Morgan. Morgan, hey. You know us."

Georgie lowered her gun, but not all the way. There was something going on with Morgan that suggested he wasn't one hundred percent there, and that could be dangerous. She remembered Rick telling her about Morgan was when he'd last seen him, long before he'd shown up in Alexandria with Daryl and Aaron a few months ago. She remembered Rick saying he'd basically lost touch with reality after losing his son and living alone for so long. She wondered if the look in Morgan's eyes right now was similar to what Rick had seen back then.

After a moment of hesitation on Morgan's part, he lowered his stick a little bit. "I…" he began, struggling to figure out what to say. "I'm not right."

As Rick lowered his Colt to his side, Georgie did the same; choosing to take her cues from him. Then she felt a little bad for Morgan, who seemed to be dealing with some issues of his own. "Maybe…maybe you shouldn't be out—" she began to say to him, gently reaching for him as calmly as she could.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere," Morgan interrupted; jerking away from her.

Rick tensed at the movement, his hand moving to hover back over his Colt out of instinct. Tilting his head slightly, he let the wheels in his head spin, and was quickly hit with realization. "You're out here for them. Us, too." Casting a glance at Georgie, he then leaned in closer to Morgan. "Then we finish it. The three of us."

Georgie frowned.

She realized Rick's mind was truly set on killing all of the escaped Saviors. There would be no more POWs, and she had to accept it. She was ride or die with him and, while she knew he wasn't in the best place emotionally, he was a damn good leader and she trusted him. She needed to see this from his perspective. If those escaped Saviors had wanted to stay and wanted a chance to survive, they should've never left Hilltop. They should've stayed like the others, who had chosen to defect and side with the Militia. With a heavy heart, though, she sighed and looked between both men who were stalwart in their resolve to kill every last Savior that had gotten away.

As Rick and Morgan nodded at each other, Rick took lead in heading across that next road once the last stragglers from smaller herd were far enough away and had joined with the larger herd. They cut through to the woods on the other side and continued forward, knowing this would be a shortcut, since it was determined Edgehill Parkway was the road where the main herd was walking along. If they could bypass the main route, that would be better. When they came out onto the next road though, they knew the larger herd would be making its way in the same direction soon enough, but they still took a moment to assess the slight carnage in front of them.

There was an abandoned black car with flat tires, and beside it was a pool of fresh blood, along with a man's foot and hand that looked to have likely been severed from the body. Whether or not both limbs belonged to the same man remained to be seen. And there was no way of telling if the limbs had been removed to save the man's infection from spreading after receiving a walker bite, or if that was all that was left of the poor schlub.

Just as Rick turned to glance between Rick and Georgie, he was struck with something hard against the back of his head and fell down like a sack of potatoes. Morgan dropped next, leaving Georgie to turn and throw her hands up in surrender to whoever had just gotten the jump on them.

Coming face to face with one of the escaped Saviors, the long-haired one called Jared, Georgie glowered at him and then watched, with her peripheral vision, as the other escaped Saviors came out of the woods. He was grinning at her; licking at his upper teeth and gesturing down at Morgan and Rick.

"Pick these two fuckers up," he demanded of his guys, while never taking his eyes from Georgie. "Hey there, pretty. I've watched you around Hilltop. You're Rick's old lady, aren't you?" When she didn't answer, and simply continued to glare at him, he chuckled a bit. "Okay. I see how it is."

The last thing Georgie saw before blacking out was his fist coming at her.

The sound of a man coughing alerted Rick's senses. He was in complete darkness, and he was sure he'd been dreaming, but then the world around him started to return. All around him he could smell dust and hints of mildew and he could hear the shuffling of feet and mumbled voices of men conversing with each other. Lifting his head, he opened his eyes slowly, finding his vision was a blurry at first. But soon things started to come more into focus.

"We had to get off the road, out of the woods, and still…maybe we didn't do it in time," one guy was saying.

Rick's vision cleared and he could see several of the escaped POWs in front of him, standing around one of their comrades, who was lying on the floor, bleeding, and possibly missing a foot.

"Yeah, and maybe we did," another Savior retorted.

Rick went to move his hands but found they were tied behind him. Realizing this pissed him off. What pissed him off even more, though, was seeing that Georgie was still unconscious to his right, with her hands tied behind her as well, as was Morgan. The only difference was that Morgan was already awake, and probably had been for a couple of minutes longer than Rick, but he just sat there quietly, as if unaffected by the situation they were in.

"Maybe they don't look so hot 'cause we hacked off part of them."

"We're not just gonna leave them here."

The bantering among the men caused Jared, who was wearing Rick's rifle strapped to his back, to stalk forward and gesture at not just one, but two of their fellow Saviors, missing limbs. And that explained where the foot and the hand on the road had come from.

"Look at them. They're dead already," Jared remarked.

"He's right. They knew the rules."

Nudging Georgie to wake her, he looked around at where they were and realized they were inside the bar Alden had told them about. Georgie stirred, lifting her head and, in doing so, Rick looked at her again and could see her left cheek was a little puffy and already discolored from the onset of a bruise that hadn't been there before. Realizing she'd been hit angered him all the more.

"He's right," another Savior added. "You pooch it, nobody carries you."

"After everything we've been through?" a bearded Savior questioned. "Things are shaky, man. Let's not—"

"—Look, we got the rules so somebody goin' down don't take the rest of us with them. Case in point. We could've been halfway home right now."

Rick leaned in toward Morgan and whispered, "How long were we out?"

Morgan shook his head. "Just long enough to end up here."

The more sympathetic Savior that didn't seem on board with whatever their plan at hand was, was shaking his head; unconvinced. "Say we make it. Huh? What then?"

"He's right, Jared?" yet another Savior wondered, speaking up. "What do we got waiting for us back there?

"Maybe we go our own way, be done with the Saviors," one of the previously spoken Saviors suggested; looking rather defeated.

Georgie tipped her head backward a little and looked to her left. Rick met her glance halfway and gave her a reassuring nod that expressed they would be okay.

"We pooched it. Simon wasn't gonna carry us."

"That's right," Jared nodded. "Because we lost. But things have changed." He stepped forward and gestured to Rick, Georgie and Morgan. "Delivering Rick the Prick to Negan is a win. We wiped our own asses on this one, and the Big Man is gonna recognize."

The Savior who had been talking about having rules turned and looked at Rick. "Hey. He's awake," he announced and walked nearer to the trio.

Jared, too, walked over; crouching down a bit with a grin on his face as he looked between all three, but settled directly on Rick. "Rise and shine, curly. You ready to do some walkin'?" When Rick didn't reply, Jared snickered. "Yeah. Of course you are." Standing upright again, he turned back toward his men and started walking forward. "Pack it up, boys! We're ditchin' the dead weight and movin' on. This is a loose-end sort of thing, that's it. It's gonna be better for you, better for us."

Just as Jared lifted up a microphone stand and was about ready to use it to bludgeon one of his wounded comrades, Rick shouted, "Wait! My truck's not far. We can get 'em to the Hilltop's doctor. They could come back with us," he offered, a little begrudgingly. "You all could. You didn't want this. You made a split-second choice, and you chose wrong, but it's not too late. You cut us loose, you cooperate…we'll give you a fresh start. A chance to become part of our community, to become one of us." Taking a moment, he looked over at the Savior who had been expressing the most doubt with the others. "I'm giving you my word. There's not a lot that's worth much these days, but a man's word…that's gotta mean something, right?"

Jared knitted his brow together, looking doubtfully around at his men as if Rick had just tap-danced and sang them a song in some foreign language. "You asshats aren't dumb enough to believe that…"

"We can hear him out. We could talk it over," one of the other Saviors insisted.

"Thing is, there isn't time for that," Rick countered. "There's a herd out there, close, probably headed this way. You're all gonna need to make a choice, and it's gonna have to be now."

Slamming the microphone stand back down, Jared growled at his men. "Wake up, everybody! There isn't any herd. There isn't any 'deal' waiting for us back at Hilltop. You think these asswipes came here to save us? They came here for blood. Hell, this one strangled one of his own guys to death with his own hands," he remarked, walking up to Morgan and making a choking gesture. Turning toward Rick, he stood up a little straighter. "All Rick is saying here is a steaming pile of bullshit."

"You know, you're right," Morgan muttered with a nod of his head. "I came here to do what I was supposed to: to kill every last one of you."

With a scoff, Jared removed the rifle from his back and stopped the pacing he was doing to turn and bring the barrel directly into Morgan's face. However, the only reaction he got from that move of aggression was a smile from Morgan.

"You should save your bullets, 'cause you're gonna need 'em. That herd, it is comin'. Maybe they'll hear the moans or the coughs, y'know? Maybe they'll just stumble in through the open walls, but they are comin'. And then after—after, when you're just torn skin and loose teeth and blood…when you're nothing but the stuff they didn't eat…well, that'll be a damn shame. Because there won't be a single one of you left for me to kill."

"We're. Done," Jared stressed, having stepped backward. "Let's dump 'em and bounce. I want a sandwich."

"See, it doesn't change. It never changes." Leaning forward as much as he could, Morgan then began to raise his voice. "And I don't die. I don't. Nobody dies! 'Cause everybody turns! Hey! Everybody turns!"

Georgie looked around Rick to Morgan, realizing what he was doing. It had been faint, in the distance, but that low din of growling from walkers could definitely be heard drawing close. Morgan was just trying to draw them closer.

As Jared stalked back over to Morgan, prepared to shoot him in the face, but the 'Doubtful' Savior cut him off and forced him to lower the rifle. "Hey. What are you doing? You'll ruin our chances of getting back to Hilltop."

When Jared backed off and the moment of tenseness seemed to lessen inside the derelict bar, everyone seemed to just stand there for a moment and look at each other.

The Saviors were hearing it, too, now—now that they weren't talking among themselves and just listening.

Growling.

And it was incredibly close.

Too close for comfort, really.

From the open doors and missing walls, appeared parts of the herd, drawn to the noises that had come from the bar.

"Walkers!" a Savior announced the obvious. "We're surrounded!"

Georgie tensed back up. Strapped as she was along with Rick and Morgan, they were sitting ducks with absolutely no way to escape or defend themselves.

"Thing is, we've already killed you," Rick announced.

"Some coming in! Some coming in!"

The Saviors began backing up from the entrances, as most were without weapons to protect themselves with. Jared used Rick's rifle and began firing shots at the dead. The wounded Savior missing his foot and had been lying on the floor was the first to go; a group of walkers dropping to their decaying knees to feast upon him.

"You're too weak to take on this herd alone," Rick continued, looking at Georgie, who was starting to panic a little. Her gun was missing from her side as was his Colt. Morgan's stick was also gone; their weapons being used by some of the Saviors. "Cut us loose. Give us our weapons. We can help you!"

"No! Nobody's cutting anybody loose!" Jared yelled, turning the rifle on any of his men that would dare try. "I'm killing these pricks right now!"

Before he could, the Savior missing his hand swung the microphone stand at Jared with an angered grunt. In doing so, Jared dropped the rifle and the 'Doubtful' Savior picked it up. A moment later, Saviors clamped down on the one-handed Savior and his screams echoed within the bar.

The 'Doubtful' Savior hurried around to the wooden railing Rick, Georgie and Morgan were tied to and began to remove their bindings, starting first with Georgie.

"Come on!" Rick shouted, growing quite nervous the closer the walkers got.

"We gotta find a way out!" a Savior shouted.

As the ropes tore from their wrists, the trio began to jump up to their feet and dart away from the approaching walkers. 'Doubtful' Savior passed Rick his hatchet as they ran, and Morgan looked around for who had his stick.

"Give me the stick!" he called out when he saw who had it. When the Savior in question tossed it to him, Morgan grabbed onto it and immediately struck the first approaching walker upon the head with it; knocking it to the ground, dead on the spot.

Rick passed his hatchet to Georgie and took his rifle back from the 'Doubtful' Savior; the latter having picked up an extra rifle that the escaped Saviors must've fled Hilltop with. With the trio now effectively armed with weapons, they could defend themselves. Rick opened up fire on a large handful of walkers in front of him, but was too distracted to see the one coming upon his right shoulder. Just as he turned, at what could've been too late, the walker was shot dead by 'Doubtful' Savior, who gave Rick a nod of respect. Rick nodded back as a sign of thanks.

Morgan was fairing best. His stick afforded him the opportunity of keeping more distance between him and any approaching walker. However, he also found the rifle he'd been carrying on him earlier and picked that up to use it.

Georgie was struggling a little bit, but still managing. She actually found she enjoyed using the hatchet. She had more power in her swings and it helped considerably with getting out her aggression. She swung at this walker, and that walker; chopping into the sides, tops, fronts and backs of their heads with a decent amount of ease. She ignored the splatter of blood the sprayed her jeans, shirts and arms. Sadly, it was something they were all used to these days. There was one walker that got to close, though, and was giving Georgie a rough go of it. It had her backed into a post and she had only managed to swing the hatchet into its neck. She lifted her leg in between their bodies and tried pushing it back with her foot, as leverage to un-lodge the hatchet. Rick, seeing her struggle, turned and fired a single shot into the walker's head. As it dropped, Georgie's arm was pulled down with it as she was still gripping the handle of the hatchet, but the force with which the body fell allowed her to yank the blade free.

Off their mutual nod to each other, Rick peered down at his rifle. He fired a couple shots and then looked over at the 'Doubtful' Savior. "We're almost out. Go on ahead," he informed while slowly backing up toward the wall behind them.

Rick looked to Morgan, who seemed to share some knowing look with him and then Rick looked to Georgie, who was backing up with them but wasn't one hundred percent hip to what Rick's next plan was. As she looked around them, noticing most of the walkers were dead and that there was only two Saviors standing behind them, and only one of them was armed with a knife. The rest were all before them, only then did she start to figure out what was going to happen.

It almost seemed as if he was looking for permission as he glanced at her, so she nodded. She knew it was his motive all along anyway, and she had accepted that.

She accepted what they were going to do.

Morgan whipped around and shoved his stick through the neck of the Savior with the gun and, without pause, turned and did the same to the unarmed Savior. Georgie rushed forward and dropped the hatchet into the neck of the 'Doubtful' Savior, which saddened her a little to do, considering the good guy he was shaping up to be, all while Rick opened up fire on other Saviors around them; having lied about being almost out of ammo.

Another Savior came out of the woodwork then, though; running at Rick and knocking him down to the ground. "You sonofabitch!" he cried.

Rick leaned away and then punched the Savior in the face. Grabbing him by the shoulders, he shoved him forward toward some approaching walkers and let them do the work for him. That particular Savior began to scream as a walker dropped down and began to chomp onto the back of his neck. Rick seemed unfazed by it as he got back up to his feet, looking over at Georgie and Morgan; the latter handing Georgie back her handgun from the Savior he'd taken it off of. As Morgan stalked off to other parts of the derelict bar, Georgie fired a couple shots in the head of some walkers and Saviors alike.

When he sidled up beside her, he placed a hand on her shoulder and she turned to look at him. "It's done," he commented; sliding his hand to her wrist and having her lower her gun. Looking away, Rick spotted his Colt on the floor a few feet away and bent down to pick it up. While Georgie busied herself with holstering her gun into the strap on her right leg, Rick approached the 'Doubtful' Savior, who was bleeding out on the floor.

The man was struggling like hell to breathe as his left breaths were upon him. As Rick crouched down beside him, he attempted to point his finger. "You said…you said—"

"—I lied," Rick cut him off.

"I—I didn't…w-we could've…we could've lived…after. After this—"

With a sneer, Rick aimed his Colt and fired a single shot into the man's head. Standing up, his hand shook and his eyes wandered around the floor; taking in the sight of so many dead walkers and dead Saviors lying in pools of blood. His own face was splattered with blood, as he knew his hands and clothes were, too. The full force of his actions were slowly hitting him, and while he still stood by them, he wasn't completely happy with them either. He was feeling remorse. He was feeling as if he was on the edge and he was about to fall off, and if that happened, there would be no coming back.

Seeing Georgie half-sitting upon a bar stool, picking aimlessly at her fingers and staring blankly at the floor, was the icing on the cake, so to speak.

Seeing her affected by what they'd done affected him, and he didn't want to be this man. He didn't want to be a monster and drag her down with him. He knew she would side with him every time, even when she didn't agree with his decisions, simply out of love and loyalty, and that wasn't fair to her. He needed to take into account other options.

He had to take into account what Carl wanted for him.

For all of them.

When Morgan returned from wherever it was he had gone, he stopped for a moment to shove his stick into the head of a Savior who was still moving. He then approached Rick, but then kept on walking. "Everybody turns," he muttered.

Staring after him, Rick knitted his brow together. Turning away, he looked back at Georgie and held out his hand to her. "C'mon," he spoke quietly. "Let's go home."

Looking up from her fingers, Georgie balled her fists for a moment and then stood up. Opening her hands back up, she reached for Rick's hatchet off the small bar table, carrying it in her left hand, and took hold of his hand with her right. Slowly and quietly, she stepped over body after body, as they began to follow Morgan. Once they were clear of most of the bodies, he released her hand and tried catching up with his friend, who seemed just a little off kilter now as he had before in the woods. Before the massacre in the bar.

"You saved me," Rick called out to Morgan. "Morgan, you saved me." When Morgan stopped walking, so did him and Georgie. "I would've died. Maybe on that street, right in front of your house. You didn't know me. Why'd you do it?"

Morgan turned to look back at him. "We should go."

"Just tell me. Why'd you save me? You had your son there."

"No."

"You did."

"Hey, no."

"Why'd you save me? Why?"

"Because," Morgan finally answered. "Be—because my son was there."

Saying nothing else, he turned away and walked out of the bar, leaving Rick and Georgie behind for the moment. Rick let Morgan's answer roll around his brain for a bit before turning and looking at a broken mirror beside him. He could see how he looked, covered in blood.

He was always covered in blood.

This wasn't the man he wanted to be. This wasn't the man he'd ever thought he'd be.

Before he could spiral down with any darker thoughts that were already seeping into his mind, Georgie slipped her hand back into his and gave it a squeeze. The strong, comforting gesture snapped him out of it and he turned to look at her with love and gratitude.

"C'mon. Let's go home," she repeated his words back to him.

With a nod, he agreed and the two of them headed out of the darkness and into the sunlight.

The walk back to the truck took longer than expected, since the trio had exited the bar rather disoriented. Having been unconscious when brought there, they hadn't seen the way the escaped Saviors had taken, so it was part guessing and part following the path of the sun; knowing aware of the direction of the sun's descent before they'd blacked out and comparing it with where it had fallen to. Eventually, though, they did make it. And, despite Morgan's claims that he wanted to walk back to Hilltop, that nonsense was kiboshed when Georgie uttered the phrase, "Get your ass in the damn truck."

Somehow, it snapped him out of his funk long enough for him to concede to her demand. He didn't bother riding in the front cab with Rick or Georgie, though. He opted for the back bed; setting his rifle and his stick down upon it before climbing up and sitting with his back against the inner side panel. Rick set his rifle once more at Georgie's feet once they were inside the truck and, for a moment, he just sat there. His hands on the wheel, he stared out the windshield as if stuck in a daydream. When Georgie reached over and touched her hand to his arm, he turned to look in her direction, but not at her, and then turned the key in the ignition and started the truck up.

When they pulled away, all three rode in complete silence. As the sun set on them, Rick turned on the truck's headlights. It was always more of a chore driving anywhere at night these days, and not just because of the lack of street lights along the roads. Instead, there was always that worry of running into a herd of walkers and having nowhere to go. Case in point, when they'd first found Aaron and Glenn had driven them right into a herd because of the surrounding darkness; the headlights having barely helping to give them enough warning time to prepare for impact. Plus, nowadays, they had the possibility of Saviors coming out of the woodwork and corralling them like they had the day leading up to the night when they lost Glenn and Abraham.

Those were the worries, but their resolve had steeled considerably since then.

By the time they finally reached Hilltop, it was completely dark. There were a few walkers along the wall, which those atop the watch posts on either side of the gates distracted by banging on the wall as far away from the gates as they can. Rick turned off the engine and didn't bother driving it into the community. Morgan was already hopped out of the back of the truck with his rifle and his stick and heading toward the opening gates before Rick and Georgie were out of the front cab. Once the three of them began to slip through the opening, not waiting for it to be pulled fully open, they slowly marched forward, looking and feeling drained.

Near a small fire pit, Carol sat with Ezekiel, and Jerry sat with Henry, who had been found. Nearby to them were Michonne, Dianne and Alden. Michonne and Henry both stood up, with the latter waiting as Morgan approached him.

"I, um…I killed them," Morgan informed the boy, placing his hand upon his shoulder. "I killed the man who killed your brother. I did. I killed him."

When Morgan removed his hand, Henry in turn placed his hand up on Morgan's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he muttered sadly.

Morgan removed Henry's hand rather abruptly. "No," he remarked, shaking his head. "No. Don't ever be sorry." With a gentle pat to Henry's chest, he stalked off.

Rick and Georgie, who had hung back a little, turned and eyed Michonne and the others for a moment. The only difference between the pair was that Rick continued on up to the house while Georgie hung back. She watched after him, her hands shoved into her back pockets and could sense both Michonne and Carol approaching her before she saw them at her side.

"What happened?" Carol wondered.

"We went after the prisoners, the Saviors that got away last night." She turned her gaze a little and could see Alden's head had lowered upon overhearing her words. "We gave them the chance to come back here and I think Rick meant it for a moment, but then a herd of walkers passed through and started coming into the bar where we were all holed up. A lot of the Saviors got attacked by walkers." She lowered her voice, just for the two women. "That was when Rick changed his mind, I think. We turned on those Saviors. We killed the ones the walkers didn't get to."

Michonne was frowning deeply, folding her arms across her chest and looking over toward the house as if Rick would be there to see the sad discontent in her face. "Is he okay?"

Georgie sighed. "He will be."

"Did any of you get hurt?" Carol asked; lifting her hand to hover her finger tips over Georgie's left cheek.

"The Saviors came up from behind us in the woods; caught us off guard, knocked us out to subdue us. A sympathizer cut us loose when the going got tough, and we didn't even return the favor."

"Him cutting you loose was his reparation. Anything beyond that, don't think about. Or try not to. We're in a war. These things happen."

"But they don't have to," Michonne muttered, catching Georgie's eye. "Has Rick read his letter yet?"

Georgie shook her head. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"He needs to read it. It was one of the last things Carl did. He wanted Rick to read that letter."

"You don't have to tell me that. He wouldn't even look at my letter." She sighed and brushed some hair from her face. "He will, though. He's just…he's figuring things out and he has to do it in his own time. Forcing him won't help."

"Sometimes we need that push."

"No," Georgie replied. "We don't need a push. We need a hand to hold."

Rick had gone straight into the house and to his and Georgie's temporary room where he grabbed a clean pair of boxers and a clean shirt. He made a beeline for the bathroom, talking to no one on the way, and found some solace in the privacy of a lukewarm shower. He let the dirt, the sweat and the blood wash off him and disappear down the drain; reminding him of that first shower he'd taken in Alexandria after being on the road for so long. His eyes felt heavy and he was just tired, overall. He felt like he could've stood there in that shower for a few hours, but he didn't want to waste the water or what was left of the warm, thereby screwing over the next person who would lay claim to a shower.

Hoping out, he pulled on the clean boxers and then put his faded black jeans. Zipping and buttoning them up, he carried his shirt with him out of the bathroom and into the upstairs hallway as he made his way back to the bedroom. Reaching the doorway he began to pull the clean T-shirt over his head.

Moving further into the room, he realized Judith's crib was missing. Knowing someone would've said something to him if it were serious enough, Rick knew she was okay and tucked away in some other room, likely with Barbara, wherever she slept. For a moment, though, he just stood there. He thought back to earlier in the day when he'd walked in on Georgie reading her letter from Carl, seeing the tears rolling down her face but also the look of peace she wore.

It had been almost three full days since Carl had been gone, and he still had yet to truly face that. He wasn't sure if he was ready to read his letter; nervous as to what it might say. Would it bring him peace or would it make him relieve the trauma as if it was happening all over again?

Stepping over to the tallboy dresser, he pulled the top drawer open and touched his hand down to his letter, which lay on top of Negan's. Pulling it out, he held it in his hands and stared down at his name written in Carl's handwriting while sensing a presence in the doorway.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, turning to at Georgie, who just stood there quietly. "For how I've been toward you."

She shrugged. "It's okay."

"It's not," he insisted. "You've been my rock. You've kept me from letting myself get pulled too far out to sea."

With a small smirk, she stepped forward into the room. "It's to have and hold, through good times and bad, isn't it?"

Rick actually gave her a warm genuine smile; the first she'd seen from him in days. "I love you," he remarked, turning a little bit to face her.

"I love you, too," she replied.

Walking up to him, she placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him in for a kiss, and then brushed her fingers along his damp, slicked back curls. They looked at each other and found solace in each other. Leaning forward, they touched their noses together, giving each other a bit of an Eskimo kiss before they both turned their heads to look upon the letter in his hands.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'll give you privacy to read it."

As she stepped away, Rick shook his head and reached for her; grabbing onto her wrist and pulling her back. "I can't," he muttered.

"You should."

"I don't mean I won't. I just can't read it. Not tonight."

Tilting her head, she reached for his letter and took his from his hand and set it back into the top drawer for him. "Okay, then. Read it tomorrow. Start the day with Carl."

Closing his eyes tightly, he felt the tears coming as she shut the drawer. When she saw the weakening change in his demeanor, she stepped away, but only long enough to close the bedroom door. Turning back to him, she watched as he stepped over toward the bed and sank down on the edge of the mattress. He lifted his hands up and covered his face completely with both of them. With a slight hunch to his posture, the first sob escaped his throat. Georgie came over and sat down beside him, reaching a hand around his back and leaning her face into his shoulder.

That's when the second sob escaped.

Rick dropped his hands and looked at Georgie, and let her see the tears falling from his eyes; letting his guard down for her. His brow furrowed and his face contorted in deep sorrow. With little hesitation, he turned his body toward her and lowered his head down into her lap. As he finally allowed himself to break down and cry for the first time since Carl died, Georgie shifted a little to make him more comfortable. She draped one arm over his body and with her free hand she ran her fingers soothingly through his damp curls.

"It's alright, it's okay," she whispered, closing her eyes.

As his body shook from deeper sobs, she held her arm around him that much tighter.