Author's Note: So, it's been over three months since my last update. Shortly after, I went to Georgia again, and the day I went down to Senoia (a.k.a. "Alexandria", "Woodbury"), the rumors broke that Andrew Lincoln was leaving the show. I was in denial; choosing not to believe anything until I heard it from him. It put a slight damper on my visit there, like a dark cloud following me around. Which was also literal, because at times it was overcast and it did rain a little. My inspiration to continue writing was always there, but my motivation was not. Then, last month at Comic Con, Andy confirmed he was leaving, and I was very saddened. The show won't be the same anymore and I'll just be going through the motions when I watch it, because I will continue to watch it to the very end regardless, but it won't be my favorite show anymore. I will continue to write my TWD fanfics though, because at least I have control over what goes down. As for this story, I was contemplating killing Georgie off around the same time Rick is written out, but now I might keep her around. I'll see how the entirety of season 9 plays out and when the end of season 9 arrives, I'll make more of a decision regarding Georgie then. Either way, I think I'll be ending this story by next spring.
For now, let's live in our denial bubble together and focus on fanfiction! Yay! Ignorance is bliss!
As always, enjoy and R&R!
xoxo —Holly
"We are going to have peace even if we have to fight for it." — Dwight D. Eisenhower
When Rick woke up the following morning, he was alone in bed. He wiped the sleep from his eyes, blinked a few times and looked to his right. He expected to see Judith in her crib, or at least just the crib, but remembered both had been removed the night before; most likely by Barbara since she was the one left babysitting Judith earlier in the day. Rolling over onto his left side, he was a little more dumbfounded by Georgie not being there. Normally he woke up before she did, or at least he usually sensed her getting out of bed because he tended to be a light sleeper. Instead of her being there beside him, there was, in her place, Rick's letter from Carl placed upon her pillow, waiting to be read.
Despite his the initial feeling of aversion to it, he smirked.
Georgie was making sure he kept to his promise to read the letter in the morning.
Sitting up, he let out a small sigh and the picked the letter up. He ran a couple of fingers across the 'Dad' that Carl had written on the front, and began to picture Carl sitting somewhere in Alexandria, knowing his time was running out, but still making enough of his time to write letters, not just for Rick, but for those that mattered most to him.
He felt considerably better for the first time in three days. Georgie letting him cry it out on her lap had helped a lot and meant the world to him. And now he was ready. In the old world, typically the third day after someone's death would be their funeral; a day of family and friends coming together to pay their last respects to the dearly departed. It was almost poetic that now Rick was ready to read what Carl had written for him and hopefully focus on the good times he'd had with his son and not let himself be consumed by his anger or by what he'd lost.
Rick was ready to say goodbye, but he would never be ready to forget.
Getting up out of bed, he left his utility belt and his weapons in the bedroom. He set his letter down only long enough to pull his boots on and then took the letter with him and made his way to the upper porch. From there he was able to overlook the community alive with the new day, going about further preparations for whatever the next battle in the war would hold. As he sank down to sit on the floor of the porch, he leaned against one of the exposed balusters. Peering through an opening in the sheet metal that was around the porch for safety and protection purposes, he saw Georgie down below with Judith; both smiling at each other while Georgie was offering Judith apple slices to eat. That, in itself, brought a small smile to Rick's face.
Turning his eyes to his letter, Rick opened it up and began to read.
I remember my 8th birthday at the KCC with that giant cake and Aunt Evie showing up on leave, surprising all of us. I remember mom. I remember Codger. I remember school and going to the movies and Friday night pizza and cartoons and Grandma and Grandpa and church, those summer barbecues in the kiddie pool you got me. Could've used that at the prison.
You told me about the walks we'd take when I was 3, you holding my hand, around the neighborhood, all the way to Ross' farm. I didn't know that I remembered them, but I do. 'Cause I see the sun and the corn and that cow that walked up to the fence and looked me in the eye. And you told me about all that stuff, but it isn't just that stuff. It's how I felt. Holding your hand I felt happy and special. I felt safe. I thought growing up was about getting a job and maybe a family, being an adult, but growing up is making yourself and the people you love safe…as safe as you can, because things happen. They happened before. You were shot before things went bad. Kind of felt like things went bad because you were shot.
I want to make you feel safe, Dad. I want you to feel like I felt when you held my hand. Just to feel that way for five minutes. I'd give anything to make you feel that way now.
I wanted to kill Negan. I wish I did. Maybe it would've been done. I don't think it's done now. I think you went out there again, but I don't think they surrendered. I don't think they will surrender. There are workers in there, Dad. They're just regular people…old people, young people, families. You don't want them to die, Dad.
We're so close to starting everything over and we have friends now. It's that bigger world Jesus talked about — the Kingdom, the Hilltop — there's got to be more places, more people out there, a chance for everything to change and keep changing, everyone giving everyone the opportunity to have a life…a real life. So if they won't end it, you have to. You have to give them a way out. You have to find peace with Negan. Find a way forward somehow. We don't have to forget what happened, but you can make it so that it won't happen again, that nobody has to live this way, that every life is worth something.
Start everything over. Show everyone that they can be safe again without killing, that it can feel safe again, that it can go back to being birthdays and school and jobs and even Friday night pizzas somehow. And walks with a dad and a 3-year-old holding hands. Make that come back, Dad. And go on those walks with Judith. She'll remember them.
I love you.
Carl
Letting the few tears that fell dry up, Rick exhaled a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. It felt like somewhat of a weight had just been lifted from his shoulders even though that weight still remained on his heart, and always would. Turning to look through the opening in the metal paneling again, he glanced down at Georgie and Judith again. They were walking toward the house now, holding hands, and Georgie stopped when she sensed eyes on them.
Shielding her eyes from the sun so she could better see him, Georgie smiled up at Rick when he nodded at her. Lowering her gaze back down, she walked slowly up the front steps with Judith, making sure the little girl managed with her short, little legs. Inside the house, she led her stepdaughter up the stairs, making sure to have the girl walk them instead of her being carried up as she usually was so she could learn to develop a sense of independence. At the very top, they made their way to the upper porch and walked out through the opened doors.
Rick looked up at the pair and smiled. Folding his letter up, he tucked it into his pocket and then held his arms out to his daughter. When she beamed a million watt smile at him and then scurried into his arms to hug him, he felt amazing. He leaned his head against her and snaked his arms up her small back to hold her there. He placed a kiss into her hair, inhaled her scent and leaned back as she shifted around to sit on his lap.
"Everything go alright?" Georgie asked knowingly.
Rick nodded. "It did."
"Feel a little better?"
"I am."
"I'm glad."
"Thanks for last night, by the way," he added, looking up at her. "For letting me…get it all out."
Georgie shrugged. "Just returning the favor," she replied with a wink. "But even if I'd never been in your position now, and you hadn't been there for me the way you were, I'd still have done it for you. I love you."
Rick smiled again. "I love you, too."
Licking her lips, she looked beyond the porch and toward the people down below who were like a hive of busy workers bees. "I might find someone who needs help with something structural. Put my welding skills to use again," she announced. "You two good here?"
Glancing down at Judith, who was leaning her face upward toward him with a small smile, Rick nodded. "We're good."
Slipping back inside, Georgie made her way toward their bedroom for a moment; contemplating if she should grab her jacket. She sat down on the bed, placing her hands on her lap and just looked at the wall in front of her. She was wondering if Rick really was feeling better or if he'd just said so to save face. For the most part she believed he was being completely honest. Of course, that fraction of her that felt he was saving face was probably just her acknowledging the fact that he would obviously never be one hundred percent better, just the same as she wouldn't.
She wondered how they would move forward. She wondered how they would finish this fight with the Saviors and, if they succeeded, what their first steps toward the future would be.
She also kind of wondered what Rick's letter had said, but she wasn't about to ask him if she could read it. That was his own personal letter and, now that he'd read it, it was up to him what he did with it. Maybe he would keep it, or maybe he would rip it up or burn it. She knew what her letter entailed, and not just the tail end where Carl said he'd loved her; words he'd never spoken to her while he was alive, but still meant a lot to hear either way.
He had asked a few things of her; namely to continue to love his father and to love his sister. Those were things he had verbally asked of her before he'd died, and she had promised him that she would. But he had also asked of her to help make something a reality.
My dad is stubborn. You already know this. He might not want to find a way to make peace with Negan and the Saviors. I need you to help him get there. Help him see it's the right path to take. My Dad is already a pretty great man but I need you to help him be better. Help him bring about real change.
Georgie looked at the tallboy dresser and stood back up. Opening up the top drawer, she saw her letter to the left and Negan's letter was still on the right. She could tell that Rick had read that particular letter already, judging by how crinkled the paper was compared to his when he'd gotten back to the van after going off into those woods after the visit they'd paid to Jadis. She'd read it, too, before reading her own.
Negan would need to read his somehow. Maybe it would somehow do the trick to get him to back down and decide to let bygones be bygones. Either way, it was what Carl wanted. He wanted Negan to read the letter or else he wouldn't have bothered to write one for the man. It was important to Carl and she wondered if somehow getting the letter to Negan would be contribute to her helping Rick make peace with him.
Taking Negan's letter out, she folded it up so that it was small enough to fit easily into her pocket and then went to the closet and grabbed for her jacket. Pulling it on, she left the bedroom.
As the day wore on, nothing eventful happened.
It seemed it was yet another calm before the storm.
Everyone was aware another fight with the Saviors loomed on the horizon, but they weren't exactly sure of when it would happen. At least not until Gregory showed up at Hilltop's gates; having escaped two nights prior with the Savior POWs. This time, he arrived with a map and a message from Dwight. Gregory for his constant duplicity to save his own ass when it suited him was being locked into the pen, alone. Even the defected Saviors were free to walk around now since they had basically sworn loyalty to the Militia and turned their backs on Negan and the other Saviors who had abandoned them the night of the attack on Hilltop.
When Rick was made aware of Gregory's return and the mention of some note from Dwight, he made a beeline for Maggie, who was at the pen. Georgie was already there; having been at the blacksmith's stall for the better part of the day, and seen Gregory show up. As Rick came down the incline toward the pen, with Michonne also in tow, Maggie and Georgie turned from the pen; both women stopping as Maggie held the map out.
Taking it in his hands, Rick looked down at the map and read the message scrawled on it in black marker.
Tomorrow Afternoon—
NEGAN and Ten Men at the X.
other 11 person Teams at Each
of the Circles.
END NEGAN, END the REST.
END THIS
"What are we gonna do?" Maggie asked when Rick unfolded the map and saw the markings.
"We end this," he replied, after glancing first at Georgie. "Gather up the main players. We meet in your office in fifteen minutes."
As Rick turned on his heels and headed back up the incline toward the house, Maggie followed after him but Michonne and Georgie hung back.
"Something wrong?" Michonne asked, noticing Georgie hesitation.
"I have something I need to do," she replied. Turning to look at Michonne, she added, "I won't be at that meeting. Make an excuse for me."
Michonne raised an eyebrow at her. "Where are you going?"
With a sigh, she began to walk away before she bothered to reply, "I've got a message of my own to deliver."
Hanging back along one of the blacksmith stalls, Georgie looked up toward the house and waited until she saw Rick disappear inside. Once he was out of view, she walked over toward the gates and whistled up to those on the watch posts.
"Open up," she called to them.
They seemed a little confused, but obliged her, knowing she was one of the top dogs. Before the gates were pulled fully open, she slipped through and went straight for the truck that Rick had left parked outside the night before. Fortunately, there were no walkers to worry about approaching her before she slipped behind the wheel because any walkers that had shown up had already been done away with by members of the Militia over the course of the day.
Before she started the truck up, Kal and Eduardo appeared up on the watch post, with Eduardo calling out to her. "Where you going?"
Instead of a straight answer, she stuck her head out the already rolled down window and replied with, "I'll be back."
Turning the key in the ignition, she pressed down on the brake pedal and shifted the gears from park to reverse. Giving the truck a little gas, she backed up and made a 180 turn and then began to make her way down the hill. Briefly, she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Kal and Eduardo were watching her retreat, but at least they didn't seem to be alerting anyone about her leaving just yet. She didn't want to be stopped from what she was off to do. And it's not like she was actually going to put herself into danger. She was going to be a safe distance away from her "target" and she had all that she needed with her.
Knowing the drive to her destination wouldn't be exactly short, she was glad she slipped out of Hilltop when she did, because she figured she could get back just before it got dark or slightly after. Either way, her entire roundtrip journey would be done primarily in daylight. She just hoped she didn't run out of gas on the way home.
In the meantime, she hummed to herself. It was something to keep her mind occupied as she drove. She avoided blocks she was aware of, and turned down the necessary side streets, all the while hoping she didn't pass a vehicle containing any Saviors on the way. Walkers, she wasn't so worried about.
Somehow, she arrived to her destination in what seemed actually quicker than she'd expected. Then again, no delays on the road likely made that possible.
She pulled the truck up alongside a brick building, placed it in park and turned it off. Taking a steadying breath, she reached forward and grabbed supplies out of the glove compartment she knew were kept there; a spare walkie-talkie and a pair of binoculars. Climbing out of the truck, she took the keys with her, placing them into her front pocket and then grabbed her hunting knife out of its sheath as using her gun to defend herself against any walkers would draw unwanted attention from the living.
She remembered this particular building from several days ago was thankful there was a fire escape that led all the way up to the roof. She just needed to reach the metal ladder and pull it down, which ended up being not too hard to do. She merely had to jump up a couple of times until she managed to grab onto the last rung, and then used her body weight to bring the ladder sliding down to the ground. Looking around her in case the creaking of the metal had drawn any attention from walkers, Georgie began her ascent.
Upon reaching the rooftop, she climbed up over the edge and made her way toward the other side of the building. She sheathed her knife and lifted the binoculars she had dangling around her neck. Barely a quarter mile away, she was able to peer into the courtyard of the Sanctuary; her view initially showing her that of the fence and the walkers chained to it. One of them looked somehow familiar but was unimportant to her. Shifting her gaze, Georgie lifted the binoculars toward the broken windows, but quickly brought them back down when she saw the figure of the man she wanted, just standing there; leaning on a railing outside what was the second level's main entrance.
Bringing the walkie-talkie to her lips, she pressed the button.
"Negan. It's Georgie."
Waiting a moment, she watched as he looked down at his waist and grabbed for his own walkie-talkie that was clipped there. Though she could see his movements, she wasn't close enough to see the expressions on his face, even with the binoculars. She could tell he was hesitating.
"Go ahead. Take your time," she added.
After a moment, he clicked back, "Georgie? You mean Red?" Then, he added, "How you feeling after our tussle the other night? Rick there with you? Why don't you put him on."
"This isn't about Rick," she replied. "It's about Carl. He wrote you a letter, and I'm delivering it because that's what he wanted."
"Well, I can't promise not to kill the messenger."
Georgie rolled her eyes and dropped the binoculars down against her chest. "You could try. Lord knows you tried and failed before."
"If I really wanted to that night, I would've."
"Sure. Okay." Removing the letter from her pocket, she unfolded it and opened it up. "Now shut up and listen." Taking a moment, she began. "'Negan, this is Carl. I was helping someone. I got bit. We didn't even need to be doing what we were doing. I was just helping someone. Now I'm gone. You might be gone. Maybe my Dad made your people give you up and he killed you, but I don't think so. I think you're still around and you're working on a way out. Maybe you got out. Maybe you think we're a lost cause and you just want to kill all of us. I think you think you have to be who you are. I just wonder if this is what you wanted. I wanted to ask you. I wish I could've. Maybe you'll beat us. And if you do, there'll just be someone else to fight. The way out is working together. It's forgiveness. It's believing that it doesn't have to be a fight anymore. Because it doesn't. I hope my dad offers you peace. I hope you take it. I hope everything can change. It did for me. Start over. You still can. Carl.'"
Removing the walkie-talkie from her face, she waited for a response.
"All this…there is no getting out of it now. I wouldn't accept your surrender if you came to me on your knees. See, winning isn't about beating you. Winning is about killing every last one of you. That is starting over," he replied. "I never wanted this. Rick made this happen. You tell him that. No more talk."
The radio clicked and Georgie tucked the letter back into her pocket. By the time she brought the binoculars up to her eyes and focused on Negan again, she could see he was stomping on something. With a heavy sigh, she dropped the binoculars back down and turned around. Walking back toward the other side of the rooftop, toward the fire escape, she clipped her walkie-talkie onto her jeans and looked back once more in the direction of the Sanctuary.
"Well, you were given your chance," she muttered, and then began to climb down.
"You did what?"
Georgie was standing just inside the gates with her arms folded as Rick stood in front of her with his hands on his hips, staring her down like he was about to assign her with Saturday detention for life. She had just returned to Hilltop with Rick the first one alerted to the fact, and he was none too happy. When he'd realized she'd taken off to places unknown without a word, his first instinct was to go out looking for her, but Michonne had reeled him back in and assured him that Georgie would be fine; which told him enough that Michonne had some idea of where Georgie might've gone, and if Michonne didn't seem worried, then perhaps he could breathe a little easier. When Georgie showed back up, however, all bets were off and he let his worries return.
"After everything I've just gone through because Carl went off on his own when he didn't have to…you go to see Negan?"
Georgie sighed. Though their voices were low, she knew a few eyes were on them, and that those above them on the watch posts could very likely hear them well enough. "I didn't go to see him. I didn't sit down and have a one-on-one conversation with him," Georgie insisted, dropping her arms to her sides. "I was a few buildings away, on the roof. He didn't even know where I was. I just made sure I was within enough range so that I could talk to him via walkie. Had I known I'd actually see him standing out in the courtyard, I would've brought a high-powered rifle with a scope and take him out. Instead, I read Carl's letter to him, because Carl wanted Negan to read it. And since I wasn't about to get close enough to physically hand it over to the sociopath, I read it to him. I thought—maybe—it would strike enough of a chord with him and he'd consider what Carl told him. I thought maybe he would decide enough was enough. Enough lives have been lost on both sides and we should be able to stop fighting, but I also understand how much of a pipe dream that is."
Rick's deep frown faded halfway. Running a hand over his face, he let his shoulders slump a little. "What did Negan have to say?"
"That he wants every last one of us dead," she replied simply. "He doesn't want peace."
"I doubted he would."
"But who's to say his people don't? Maybe there's a way to appeal to them? I mean, they can't all want this war to keep going on? They've got to want it over. The Saviors that stayed here when they could've run, and even those at the bar yesterday who wanted a second chance to come back here with us…there's gotta be more like them who would give up and work with us rather than continue to fight us, don't you think?"
"And how do you suggest we appeal to them? Hmm?"
Georgie shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. But there's…there's just…there's gotta be a way. War has to end and peace has to begin at some point."
Rick just stared at her for a moment. When he looked away, he took in the quickly avoiding looks of those almost caught staring at the couple in the midst of their conversation. Slowly, he reached his hands out and took Georgie's in his. "We will have peace. I mean, I hope so, and that it's sooner rather than later but, until that time comes — can you just promise me the one thing?"
"What?"
"Don't go off like that again. Please?"
Georgie let the corner of her mouth lift in a small half smile. "I think I can keep that promise."
"Thank you." Pulling her into his arms, he wrapped them around her back and held her there for a few moments. After placing a kiss to the side of her face, he pulled back. "Now, come inside so you can hear about the plan for tomorrow's fight that you missed out on."
Georgie mock saluted him. "Yes sir, Mr. Grimes."
The plan had been discussed ad nauseam. Everyone knew where they would go, where they would be, what they would be doing and how they would be doing it. There would be no stone left unturned. With Dwight's inside information squirreled away to them by way of Gregory, who had been returned to the pen. Everyone knew where the Saviors were going to strike, when and how. That night and into the following morning were spent simply and solemnly because, for all they knew, it could be any of their last moments with their loved ones. Most, if not all, had seemed to make peace with that and were prepared to go forward without any doubts or fears. If this was the day they were going to meet their maker, then so be it.
Bring it on.
Not that anyone wanted to, of course.
Rick, for one, was ready to lose his life in this fight but he didn't want to die. He wanted to live as long as he possibly could. He wanted to watch Judith grow up. He wanted to get old with Georgie. He wanted to see all the communities rebuild and thrive, not just survive.
Bright and early the next morning, Hilltop was alive with action as everyone was preparing for going forward. The main players had gathered around Dwight's map one last time, to go over the details of their plan one last time in the fresh light of day. Doing so made it all more real and it amped them up. Rosita, Maggie, Michonne, Carol, Georgie and Rick looked on as Daryl traced lines with his fingers along the map, showcasing points of interest for the fight.
"Alright. We'll stick to this road, keep to the trees, we'll get there quicker," he stated. "Plus, we can keep an eye on the road that way."
"Yeah, if they're planning anything, we'll see it," Rosita agreed.
"You think you can trust Gregory? What he told us?" Michonne wondered, looking over to Maggie
"I locked him up inside the house," the Widow offered up; squinting from the morning light shining in her eyes. "He knew I wouldn't let him walk around free. He knew he was coming back to that. He doesn't believe in anything except himself, and he'd have to believe in the Saviors a whole lot to send us into a trap and think it would work out for him."
"Unless Dwight didn't tell him," Daryl countered. "That asshole could be setting us up."
Rick, who'd twisting and untwisting the cap on a canteen of water, passed the canteen off to Georgie before reaching forward and picking the map up. Folding it up in his hands, he looked at her and then at the others. Just as he began to pocket the map, the group's attention all seemed to take focus on the same thing as Morgan stormed by; a man on some sort of solo mission. But there was something even more off about him. He seemed confused about his surroundings; turning and looking around him as if he'd heard his name being called in different directions only to find no one there.
Carol broke away from the group first and went after him, but the others weren't as overly concerned. They each began to break away, but only to put any final affairs in order before they all hauled out of the Hilltop for the fight.
Rick and Georgie, who had already spent the entire night and most that morning already with Judith, in case neither of them ever saw her again, were now standing alone together; back on a better frequency with each other since before Carl died. They were now taking comfort in knowing Tara was heading up the group that would be protecting the non-fighters at the Hilltop, who would be looking after Judith.
"This is it," Georgie remarked. "Today is the day. Today is the first day of the rest of our lives."
Reaching his hands out, he took Georgie's in his; brushing the pads of his thumbs over her knuckles. He stared down at them intently as he emitted a slight sigh. "I think it's better to look at it as the end of a chapter in the book of our lives. There's no way we can read ahead to see what happens next, if we live or if we die. That chapter hasn't been written yet." With a small smile, Rick lifted his eyes and settled them upon her face. "I hope it gets written. I hope we get more chapters. I hope we get a happy ending, or as close to one as we can manage."
The corner of Georgie's mouth lifted into a half smile. "I hope so, too."
A kerfuffle by the main gate snapped their attention away from each other. They turned to see the gates open, the defected Saviors prevented from reentering as they stood watching Morgan aiming the sharp end of his stick down at young Henry while Carol had grabbed hold of the stick to stop him. Rick and Georgie, along with several others came forward, apprehensively, as Morgan paced around, talking, but not one hundred percent making sense.
"They were gone—him. They were coming in."
"I asked Maggie if we could clear the walkers from the wall," Alden spoke up. "We drew them away so we wouldn't have to worry about 'em when we rolled out."
"He did," Maggie confirmed.
Morgan seemed a bit ashamed with himself and looked over at a still stunned Henry. Rick, in that moment, knew it best to diffuse any tension and get everyone back on track as he stalked forward over toward Morgan.
"Let's keep gettin' ready, everyone," Rick announced; his eyes focused solely on his old friend. "First team's going in twenty." As the defected Saviors finally continued forward inside the Hilltop, and after Maggie sauntered away as well, Rick threw a glance over at Carol, who was silently calming Henry. "Maybe you shouldn't come with us," Rick spoke quietly to Morgan.
"I have to."
"You've done plenty."
"I have to."
"Morgan—"
"Rick. I have to. I have to…it's not me. It's everybody else and I'm gonna keep 'em alive. I'm gonna keep Henry from…from…" He trailed off, biting his lips and struggling to find the right words to say. "We…we are worse than we were…me and you. We are. Giving your word to those men back at the bar. I mean, it's what it took, yeah, but…but that was something else. That was something wrong for you. And we crossed into it because…because…we both lost everything, everything good." Morgan shook his head, looking at the ground for a moment; his mind a jumble of thoughts. When he brought his gaze back upward, he shrugged a little. "What—what does it matter if we spend whatever's left on keeping people alive?"
"Because we haven't lost everything. Not yet."
"We have. And we can't go back," Morgan insisted. "So let's just finish this."
Morgan stepped away then and wandered off, alone, to some part of the community, leaving Rick standing there, trying to piece together Morgan's discourse. Reaching a hand up to his face, he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He sensed someone approaching and he knew by the gentle footfalls that it was likely Georgie.
"I don't know what to do about him anymore," he remarked; running with his assumption over who he believed was walking up to him and subsequently assuming right.
Georgie stood before him with her hands shoved into her back pockets. "What was he going on about?"
Rick shook his head. "It's not important right now."
Georgie wasn't entirely convinced. "Can we trust him out there? Do we have to worry about friendly fire?"
"No. I think we're safe from that. He'll be able to do this. I don't think he should do it, but aside from tackling him to the ground and locking him inside the house with Gregory, I don't think anything or anyone could stop him from fighting with us."
"Maybe tackling him to the ground and locking him inside the house is the best option."
"No," Rick shook his head. "He's going through something, but we can trust him to have our backs. After all this is said and done, however, if we survive it all—"
"We'll need to have a proper sit down with him and get his head straight."
Rick let out a deep sigh. "Yeah. Or maybe we just need to get him stoned somehow."
Georgie smirked. "Now there's a thought."
The main gate opened, and out went the first string of the Militia, which included the usual suspects. Amidst group, and armed with weaponry and other supplies, Rick and Georgie walked hand in hand to greet the day and face what it might entail for them. They had said goodbye to Judith; given her big hugs and kisses with promises they would return soon to her, but those were promises they weren't too sure they'd be able to keep. They didn't know if they would survive this day, but they hoped and wanted to, and that had to be enough to see them through it all. After this fight, if they survived, they hoped they wouldn't have to live their lives on a day to day basis. They didn't want to focus only on the present anymore. They wanted to focus on tomorrow, on next week, on next month, and even the years to come.
Following the map from Dwight, the first group reached a spot in the woods where they hunched down when spotting Saviors in the distance that appeared to be setting up a roadblock which also consisted of chained up walkers. Rosita passed her binoculars to Carol, who counted the number of Saviors and gave the others a silent signal of how many she had counted. Part of their group got up and split off to surround the roadblock Saviors and when Rick gave the go-ahead, they opened fire and took out the Saviors. As the bodies dropped, the walkers still stood; some with bags over their heads. The group came out of the woods, weapons drawn; not about to let their defenses down just in case there were any survivors from the Savior roadblock that might seek retaliation. They picked up what guns they could, which were now of no use to the dead Saviors, and began looking around at the roadblock.
Georgie turned at the sound a surviving Savior surrendering. Her eyes caught sight of Carol first. She followed Carol's line of sight onto Morgan, holding stick and a knife; both of which had blood over them where there had previously been any. Georgie frowned slightly, but couldn't be bothered to think more on it as she poked her head into the open window of a driver's side door from one of the roadblock cars; searching for any possible discarded guns or ammunition. She felt a light tap on her backside and when she pulled her head out, watched as Rick was stepping around her. He nodded forward and she joined him as they stepped around the back of the car, with Rosita falling in step with them.
"Good people, found something on our quarry," Ezekiel proclaimed.
"What is it?" Georgie asked, as she and Rick walked over toward him.
In the King's hand was some sort of folded piece of paper. "A list and another map. And what appears to be other facts." He held it all up for Rick to take a closer look at it as Daryl and Carol came over.
"They're lining up Saviors on the Old Mill Road," Rick announced. "That's where Negan will be."
"We have to get to Negan before they figure out what happened here," Carol remarked.
Removing his walkie from his belt, Rick brought it up to his lips. "Maggie."
"I'm here."
"It's time. It was a trap. So we're changing the plan." Placing the walkie back onto his belt, Rick gripped the papers in his hand and grimaced slightly. He briefly looked around at everyone and then decided to just toss the papers to the ground. "We take this fight to where the Saviors are headed on Old Mill Road. This here was a decoy. They won't be expecting us to go there, so that's where we'll be," he informed as everyone listened. "That's where we end this."
There were no whoops or rallying noises of agreement. There were only quiet nods and silent looks shared from person to person as they route and their plan changed. Looking at the map they had from Dwight, Rick pinpointed where Old Mill Road was in proportion to where they were now, and then pointed toward the direction they needed to head next. As leaders of their respective communities, Rick and Ezekiel seemed to walk in tandem up the road. With Georgie on Rick's left and Carol on Ezekiel's right, the four looked like two pairs of monarchs, even if Ezekiel was the only one with the title. Kings and Queens off to war, with their friends, their soldiers, flanking them.
As they walked, Georgie slipped the map out of Rick's back pocket to figure out how close they were. She looked up at the sky, at where the sun was sitting and then grabbed for Rick's left arm and lifted it up toward her face. She could tell from her peripheral vision that he was staring confusedly at her until he realized she was just checking the time, and just let her do her thing. When she was done, he took his arm back slowly and placed it back upon the bottom of his rifle's handguard.
"The day's still young enough," he commented quietly, seeming to sense what she was thinking about. "We might still make it back to Judith before dark."
"If we make it back at all."
Rick smacked his lips. "Pessimist."
"Realist," she corrected. The slight upturn in her lips, signaling the formation of a smirk, brought a smirk of his own to his face.
"Tomato, tomahto," he shrugged.
"Potato, potahto."
Rick and Georgie both turned around and grinned at Jerry, who had chosen to interject; clearly having been listening to them talk.
About a quarter mile further up the road, they finally merged with the secondary group which was being led by Maggie and the whole lot of them continued as one large group en route toward Old Mill Road. The shorter distance between the road they were currently on and Old Mill Road was a large, very hilly pasture, which made the most sense to travel along. It also provided a very stunning view in the process, so, really—win-win.
The only downside of the view was what it offered a view of and it seemed to stop everyone in their tracks as they took a moment to take it all in.
"Oh, Jesus," Rosita muttered.
"Holy damn," Jerry remarked, as they all took in the sight of an extremely massive walker herd. Even larger than the one they'd dealt with at that quarry near Alexandria months ago. "You ever see one that big?"
"No," Rick replied, squinting from the sun in his eyes. "Things are changing. Let's go."
"How much further?" Daryl asked as they began to move again.
"We grow closer," replied Ezekiel, with his typical manner of speaking. "Yonder, over the ridge."
Through a small copse, they approached another clearing. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was rather quiet and peaceful, aside from the rustling of the tall grass against pant legs, the shuffling of feet within it, and the occasional rubbing of plastic from parts of the armor the Kingdomers were wearing.
The familiar sing-song whistling that started up was out of the ordinary.
To an extent.
The simple sound of it sent an involuntary shiver of fear up everyone's spines as it brought forth the worst memories they all associated with the Saviors. For those that had been present in that clearing the night Glenn and Abraham died, it brought forth the images of their dead bodies and the bottomless dread they all felt before, during and after it had happened.
But there was little time to dwell on any bad memories and what a stupid whistle sounded like. The Militia was here to fight, and it appeared the fight was already here.
With their weapons immediately drawn and raised, they began looking around to determine where exactly the whistling was coming from. Where they were at that moment was like that of a small valley, so the sound carried on the wind and bounced around them.
Or worse.
They were surrounded.
"Well, damn, Rick, look at that," came Negan's amplified voice from nowhere and yet everywhere. "Pegged again. Pegged so very hard. I ambushed your ambush with an even bigger ambush."
"How 'bout you step out and face us!" Rick shouted.
"Oh, I am everywhere, Rick. Some more bullhorns, more walkies. Pick a direction to run. See how you do. Make it fun for all of us. Guess what else I did. I brought you some of your old friends. You remember your old buddy Eugene? Well, he is the person that made today possible. Same goes to Dwighty boy here. In case you were wondering, he didn't ream you on purpose. No, he is just a—a gutless nothin' that sucks at life, and now he gets to stand up here and watch you all die, and he's gonna live with that."
"'Up here', he said," Georgie muttered, repeating part of what Negan just said. "They're up on the ridge."
Rick nodded and began to turn his rifle forward and upward a bit more.
"Gabriel, well…" Negan continued. "…he's gotta go, too. We are cleaning house today, Rick. And, then…there's you. It never had to be a fight. You just had to accept how things are. So…here we go. Congratulations, Rick."
There was a moment of silence from both sides.
The air was so tense and thick you could cut it like butter with a warm knife.
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
On 'two', the Saviors appeared at the top of the ridge in a straight line, with their weapons aimed at the Militia. The Saviors had the numbers again, and they also seemed to have guns, which meant they had the bullets to shoot them with. Plus, they had the advantage of a higher position than the Militia did where they were down below. It would be like shooting fish in a barrel.
Georgie's stomach dropped.
This was it.
This was when and where they were going to die.
They wouldn't make it home to Judith tonight.
Upside? They would go down fighting and they would all see their loved ones who had gone before them again.
Quietly, Georgie hoped whichever bullet claimed her was a headshot. She didn't want to come back.
"ONE!"
And then the Saviors fired their first shots.
But nothing happened to the Militia.
From down below they watched as the Saviors dropped or fell back, seemingly injured or dead, screaming and crying in pain.
Rick and the others turned and looked around at each other in confusion. At first they all seemed to wonder if maybe some snipers from their side had somehow broken away from their group and taken out the Saviors, but everyone they'd arrived with was still there, unmoving and just as confused as the person beside them.
This was their moment.
They didn't have to die today.
"Now!" Rick shouted.
The Militia charged forward, ascending the ridge. As they reached its zenith, they were able to take in the sight of Saviors wounded or dead from what looked like close-range gunshots. Eugene was standing amidst the chaos, weaponless and nervous. Dwight was donning the same or identical sweat suit with the orange A on it that Daryl had been forced to wear when he was a prisoner of the Saviors. Gabriel was on the ground, gagged and holding his stomach, but seemed otherwise okay.
"He's running!" Maggie bellowed, revealing that Negan was getting away as the Militia began opening fire.
As they continued to storm forward, several Saviors with knives and other melee weapons began to fight back. For whatever reason they weren't using the guns they had lying around. One of the female lieutenants was going for Eugene, claiming he was responsible for whatever befell the rest of the Saviors, but Rosita fired at them, taking them down. Jesus took it upon himself to begin tying the hands of the surviving Saviors behind their back with Morgan's assistance, all while the fight waged on around them.
The ridge inclined even further upward on the other side of a somewhat dirt road. Scattered upon the hill were Saviors that were quickly surrendering while some of their dead lie upon that dirt road below them.
"Don't shoot," begged the female savior Laura, holding her arms out at her sides. "Please." Dropping down to her knees, she added, while breathing heavily, "We're done. It's over." With a nod of her head, the rest of her people around her followed her lead and also dropped to their knees or held their hands up in submission.
Maggie looked around at their faces, but not one of them was Negan.
Georgie looked around as well, and realized Rick was also missing.
"Negan," Maggie growled under her breath, turning away from the Saviors.
Georgie looked over at Michonne. "Rick," she said, to which the other female caught on; that Rick had gone off alone after Negan. As she turned and followed after Maggie, Michonne did the same, and seemingly so did everyone else.
This war wouldn't truly end until they all saw either Negan dead or Rick dead.
Maggie was going to make sure Negan died, whereas Georgie was going to make sure Rick lived.
Past the Saviors' abandoned trucks and cars that they'd driven there in, and down an incline was a solitary tree with two panels of stained glass hanging from separate branches as if it had once been someone's personal church among nature. They had all quietly approached and then stood still, watching as Rick and Negan were facing off with each other. They appeared to be at an impasse and if they were talking to each other, it was hard to tell due to two factors. One, they were likely talking too low for their voices to carry on the wind. And two, Rick was standing with his back to everyone else and Negan was directly in front of him; his face obscured by Rick's body.
Negan was gripping Lucille, that much was sure, but he didn't appear to be about to use it. In fact, it seemed as if he were slowly lowering it. Perhaps he was even surrendering to Rick. Rick, however, had his right hand hidden just barely behind his right leg and he was gripping something small.
Without warning, Rick threw his arm out, swiping from left to right and Negan dropped to his knees holding his neck as blood seeped from between his fingers.
Georgie's heart leapt into her throat; realizing that Rick had just slit Negan's. Out the corner of her eye she could tell Maggie was smiling a little. With Negan's impending death, the weight of losing Glenn so horribly in front of all their eyes was finally starting to lift. Georgie knew that Maggie couldn't begin to move forward from losing her husband until the man responsible was put down like a dog. And here, Maggie's moment had arrived.
Rick dropped his bloodied weapon and began to turn. Not fully, though, when he realized so many people were watching him. So many eyes, waiting to see what happened next, what decision he made next. The eyes of his own people as they advanced ever so slightly, as well as the eyes of surrendered Saviors, who remained in place with their hands and arms either bound together or raised to show they were no longer a threat.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Rick seemed to have decided. Raising his right hand, which was coated in blood that was primarily his own, and making a fist to slow whatever bleeding down, he began to walk forward a bit and gestured toward Siddiq. "Save him," he declared.
The realization of what he'd just said finally hit Maggie. Just as she made a move to storm forward, Michonne threw her arms around her to hold her in place. "No!" the widow shouted.
"Maggie! Maggie!" Michonne urged, trying to maintain her grip.
"No, he can't!" Maggie cried out in anger and pain. "No! No, he killed Glenn!"
"We have to," Rick replied.
He looked to be struggling with this decision. He was fighting the part of him that wanted to let Negan die, but he couldn't shake Carl's voice from his head. He couldn't shake his son's pleas to him before he died and the words he'd written in the letter that weren't read until after he was gone. Rick was also thinking about Carl's letter to Negan. He'd read it. Carl wanted there to be peace between both men. For them to find a way to coincide and find forgiveness and move forward and put the fight aside. Too many lives had been lost already on both sides. There didn't need to be any more.
Rick wanted to honor Carl. He wanted to honor his wishes. He couldn't save his son, but he could do this, as much as he wanted to do the opposite.
"We have to end it!" Maggie continued to scream; her voice already hoarse. "Rick! We have to make it right!"
"Shh," Michonne hushed soothingly. "We can't make it right, but this makes it over. It's over."
"No!" Maggie cried. "It's not over! It's not over until he's dead! It's not over till he's dead! No! No! No…no…no."
Rick shook his head. He was torn up inside. He wanted to appease Maggie. He really, really wanted to. But he couldn't and he couldn't let it happen like that anymore. Things had to change. It had to start with them.
"What happened, what we did…what we lost…" he spoke, as he walked forward with his eyes toward the ground. "There's gotta be something after." As Maggie dropped down with Michonne cradling her, Rick lifted his eyes up at all who were gathered, finding comfort where he needed it in Georgie's eyes. Seeing her look back at him with love and understanding gave him more strength in sticking to his decision. "The ones who have 'em up, put your hands down," he called out to the surrendered Saviors. "We're all gonna go home now. Negan's alive, but his way of doing things is over. And anyone who can't live with that will pay the price, I promise you that. And any person here who would live in peace and fairness…who would find common ground…this world is yours, by right. We are life!" Turning, he pointed toward the extremely massive herd in the distance. "That's death! And it's coming for us. Unless we stand together! So go home. Then the work begins. The new world begins." Dipping his head down for a moment, he gestured once more toward the herd. "All this…all this is just what was. There's gotta be something after."
Saying nothing more, Rick turned away and walked back toward the tree—toward Siddiq and Negan.
Slowly, everyone began to disperse and go home as Rick requested. The Militia and the Saviors alike. Those Saviors that had been bound had their hands and arms released and were sent packing only a little bit begrudgingly. Some Militia members came over toward the tree and helped Siddiq in carrying Negan away. By this point Siddiq had managed to stitch him up, but only temporarily enough to keep him alive until he could better treat him elsewhere.
Walking over toward the tree herself, Georgie joined Rick who had slid down to sit against the tree trunk. As the sunlight shined down through the stained glass panels overhead, it scattered different colors over Rick's face. Kneeling down beside him, she positioned herself in a way that she was facing the opposite direction he was. She could see he was lost in thought at the moment and took part of that moment to watch Negan's limp but alive body moving further and further away from them.
"Where are they taking him?" she asked.
Finding her voice suddenly interrupting his subconscious, Rick blinked a few tears away and looked at her. "Alexandria," he replied. "I have a plan."
"Oh yeah? Wanna share it with me?"
Rick sighed. It seemed like, for a moment, he wanted to smile, but just couldn't find the energy to yet. "I wanna share everything with you."
Georgie, however, did have the energy to smile, and did so for the both of them. "Carl would've been proud of you today."
"Yeah?" Rick looked down at his right hand, which he kept closed tight and up against his chest. "I made so many mistakes just getting here."
"We all did. What matters is that we got here, though. How we got here is water under the bridge, and where we go from here, well…let's save that for tomorrow. Because we get to have one."
"Yeah, we do."
"We get to go home to Judith."
That got a smile out of Rick. "Yeah. We definitely do."
"Another sunset, another sunrise. The three of us, together. And when I say we get to go home with Judith, I don't mean Hilltop. I mean Alexandria. It might be a little destroyed here and there, but it's still home. And tomorrow we can begin to rebuild."
Slowly, Rick nodded as he listened to her.
Looking down at his bloody hand, Georgie pulled a handkerchief from her jacket pocket. "You're lucky I came prepared." Reaching for his hand, she pulled it toward her; gripping him at the wrist. "Open up."
Obeying her demand, Rick opened his hand, palm side up to reveal an unpleasant gash. Taking the handkerchief, she folded it over into a triangle shape and then began to roll it a couple of times before draping it over the cut and tying it firmly around the back of his hand. Rick winced but he'd been through way worse pain than this before. This was nothing by comparison, hands down.
"Thank you."
"Siddiq will need to look at this when we get home. Clean it up, maybe a few stitches, and a proper bandage. A handkerchief that's been sitting in a dresser drawer at Hilltop for who knows how long isn't quite ideal."
"Better than nothing."
Georgie sighed, wiping some of his residual blood off her own hands and onto her jeans before pushing some hair behind her ear. "I gotta ask…" she began.
"Ask what?"
"What was it like?"
"What was what like?"
Georgie tilted her head at him and gave him a slightly withering look. With a roll of her eyes, she reached forward on the ground and picked up a bloodied shard of glass and held it carefully between two fingers. "You know very well what I'm asking."
Rick shrugged. Bobbing his head side to side as if weighing his options, he smirked. "It was…therapeutic."
Tossing the bloody shard aside, Georgie took Rick's wounded hand in both of hers. "I'm glad it brought you a little pleasure. But Maggie was robbed of her revenge, so we better make our way back to Hilltop and gather up Judith and head home before Maggie decides to shift her revenge onto us."
As she stood up, she helped Rick up with her. Some of their people still remained not too far off, gathered on the ridge, talking among themselves; deciding on what they were gonna do next and where they would go next. Michonne had already helped lead Maggie away so at least they didn't have to look the widow in the eye just yet.
Taking a second, Rick looked behind them, toward the herd in the distance. A problem for another day. With a sigh, he smiled upon Georgie and stepped around to her other side so that he could drape his left arm around her shoulders while opting to keep his right hand elevated against his chest. "Okay," he muttered. "I'm done fighting. Let's get our daughter and go home."
"Yes. Let's."
As they walked in tandem up toward the others, Rick's mind wandered a little to something Siddiq had said to him recently. It was rather bittersweet, in a way.
"What's up?" Georgie wondered, noting the faraway look suddenly in Rick's eyes.
"Something Siddiq said to me. It means something now." After briefly glancing upon her and her inquisitive gaze, he sighed deeply. "My mercy prevails over my wrath."
"That's beautiful."
"Yeah. It kinda is."
Leaning his head to the left, he pressed his cheek against the top of her head. Briefly he turned to kiss her temple and then they continued on together.