Author's Note: Hello. How are you? I'm fine. Just enjoying the fact that season 9 has begun whilst simultaneously loathing the fact that Rick Grimes' last handful of episodes are upon us. The end is literally nigh. And, oh, look...a new chapter! Nothing else to say, really. So enjoy and, as always, please R&R!

xoxo —Holly

"At the end of the day, we must go forward with hope and not backward by fear and division." — Jesse Jackson

It was nightfall by the time anyone made it back to Alexandria, but that didn't stop those that had returned to the community from staying up to get the place properly secured before they could be bothered to head home and get a decent night's sleep. Portions of the walls needed some sort of temporary barrier to keep any more of the dead from getting in, and the dead that were already in had to be done away with and removed outside the walls. There was a lot of destruction to the homes closest to the main gate that had seen the brunt of the explosions set forth by the Saviors days prior, but at least whatever fires had burned had since gone out and hadn't seemed to spread any further to other homes or structures. The gazebo was little more than a pile of burnt lumber and the church was the same charred, hallowed out literal hot mess Rick, Georgie and Michonne had left it as after burying Carl and taking off.

Windows were shattered, doors broken down, and dried blood stained the ground once more. And whether or not that blood belonged to the dead, the living, or both remained to be seen. Those were all superficial issues to be taken care of another day.

For a moment, being back in Alexandria, in the mindset of securing the walls again, just like they had after the tower had come down and the herd had gotten in, Rick's mind instinctively thought of going to get Carl so he could stay at home with Judith while the adults worked tirelessly through the night.

But then he remembered again that Carl was gone.

He was at a loss for a moment.

Part of him felt awkward coming back; having to go on living in Alexandria without Carl, who was buried in a days' old grave just down the road. But Rick knew he had to go on. He had to get this place secure for Judith now, and for everyone else, too. His focus was primarily on Judith, though, as it should be.

Fortunately for Rick, he was lucky to have Georgie, who had resigned herself to taking Judith home and getting her ready to sleep in her own bed again before Rick had even realized the two of them were walking away. Georgie had already known that Judith needed to be taken care of, as she was her mother now, and until her dying breath, and anything else would come secondary. There were more than enough able bodies to help with the temporary security of the community that Georgie wouldn't be needed, plus asking Barbara to once again babysit felt like overkill. Being home in Alexandria, the other woman would now be struck raw with her own recent losses of her children and would need time alone to be by herself to properly grieve. Also, Georgie just wanted to quiet time, in their home, with her stepdaughter, enjoying some sense of normalcy again.

With the solar panels destroyed, the electricity in the house didn't work, but the plumbing did, thankfully. Georgie was able to give Judith a bath. It just had to be done by candlelight. When she dried the girl off and dressed her into some clean pajamas, she found comfort in the ritual of brushing through Judith's dark blonde locks and peppering her with a bunch of kisses over her face and down her neck, which resulted in plenty of elated giggles. The pair moved to Judith's room then, sitting together in a rocking chair, as Georgie read Judith a book, with help from the candle Georgie had carried with them from the bathroom.

"Goodnight room. Goodnight moon. Goodnight cow jumping over the moon. Goodnight light, and the red balloon…"

When the story was finished and the book was closed and set aside, Georgie continued to rock Judith, holding her firm in her arms. Judith curled against her, sucking her thumb while twirling Georgie's hair, which was longer and more easily accessible than her own, which was still damp and tucked behind her ears. Thought not much of a singer by any means, Georgie could at least carry a tune when it came to humming. And while she would normally sing or hum Edelweiss for Judith, ever since singing it for Carl in his final moments at his request, she no longer felt the desire to do so anymore, even for Judith. She would only ever associate the song with losing Carl, so now she needed something new.

They sat in silence for a few moments, just rocking slowly together in the chair while Georgie contemplated the options; trying to remember the other songs stockpiled in her memory that she sang or hummed to Tristan and Avery when they were just babies and toddlers. 'Rock a bye, Baby' was a little too on the nose. She never really did ever care for the tried and true lullabies anyway. So why start now?

"How about some Beatles, huh, Judy?" Georgie whispered, before proceeding to sing, to the best of her ability, ever so leisurely and quietly, 'Blackbird'.

Luckily for Judith, or possibly for Georgie for that matter, that Judith was half asleep before Georgie could finish. The eventful days that had passed, and now the bath, the hair brushing and rocking was more than enough to do the little girl in. Sleep was easily rushing in and there was nothing more to be done other than place Judith in her crib, and as Georgie watched over the girl as she drifted off to dream of whatever little girls her age dreamt of, she stood there thinking about a pleasantly random thought of looking for a big girl bed for Judith in the coming weeks. The crib wouldn't be suitable for her for much longer. She hadn't made a habit of climbing out of it yet, or at least Rick and Georgie hadn't been made aware of it yet. But that kind of milestone was surely just around the corner.

Tiptoeing out of the bedroom after turning on the thankfully battery-powered baby monitor, Georgie slipped downstairs to grab the other monitor from where she last remembered seeing it on the kitchen counter, but she stopped at the bottom few steps and just sat down.

In the quiet and the darkness of the house, she was alone with her thoughts. There was so very much they would have to contend with in the days, weeks and months that were to follow and she didn't even know where to begin with what she should be thinking about. She was still brokenhearted over Carl, as was everyone, and, of course, obviously Rick, but she couldn't focus on further morning just yet. She couldn't leave the house to check on how the temporary repairs and blockades for the broken the walls were coming along, nor could she go clean up anything outside. What she could do right now had to be done in the house so that she was there for Judith.

Pushing on her knees and standing up, she reached for and gripped the base of the railing and turned into the kitchen, looking around at the disarray caused from the struggle against Negan. Most importantly demolished shelf beside the fireplace and the broken picture window from when Rick went through it. There was a blanket over the couch. Nothing undead could get in from the window, so they could live without getting the glass somehow replaced, but the blanket would suffice well enough for the time being.

Just up the road, Rick had just left the infirmary where Siddiq had since finished stitching up Negan's throat while the man still remain unconscious from either the injury, loss of blood or both. Or perhaps Siddiq had managed to administer a sedative unbeknownst to Rick, which the latter would've preferred not been wasted on the fallen tyrant. Off the medic's assurances that Negan would indeed survive his injury and live to see another day, Rick had seen to it that Negan's hands were handcuffed to the sides of his infirmary bed. He wouldn't be going anywhere unless he somehow managed to rip his arms clear from his body to free himself. And even if that somehow happened, at least Rick would have the pleasure of seeing Negan bleed to death for sure before he even reached Alexandria's main gate. Plus, that would just be hilarious.

Outside the infirmary, though, back into the cool night air that was tainted by the smells of the recently killed walkers around the community as well as burnt wood, Rick found himself slowly being encircled by the rest of the community that had returned with him, Georgie and Judith. Chief among them, Michonne. Daryl, who had been his right hand man since practically the beginning of all this, was sadly absent; having opted to stay behind at Hilltop. For how long that would be, Rick was unsure. Carol, too, was not returning to Alexandria, having decided that the Kingdom would be her new home. Others were up in the air, but Rick was glad to see the majority of those who had survived the bombardment of Alexandria and made it safely to Hilltop had made the choice to come home and resume residence in their former homes, or new ones if the previous were ruined beyond immediate repair.

The breaches in the walls were as fixed as they were going to get tonight. They could all take comfort that nothing should get inside and find its way into any homes and attack while anyone slept. But there were concerns about what came next for them all.

Where do they go from here?

Looking to Rick, once more, as their leader for guidance, they asked him what they would do now that the war with the Saviors was over.

Looking back at them, with so much darkness shadowing their curious faces, Rick placed his hands on his hips. His shoulders slumped from exhaustion, both physical and emotional. After a brief glimpse down toward the ground while deciding on the most succinct answer, he finally came back with the only response that mattered.

"Tomorrow, we begin to rebuild."

He gave no specifics because he didn't have any yet. That could be decided later, in the light of day, after he had the night to sleep and be alone with his wife and his daughter in their home; away from anything else. He didn't even bother to set a time for tomorrow for everyone to gather together, to meet and discuss how they would be moving forward. Rick just turned and began to walk away.

Michonne trailed behind him by only a few paces. It wasn't until he reached the bottom step of his house that he realized she was stopped at the bottom step of the house next door. He looked over at her with a quizzical gaze and she simply smiled assuredly back.

"Be with your family," she muttered. Pointing up at the house before her, she added, "There's plenty of room here for me."

Without another word, Michonne headed up the stairs and let herself into that second house while Rick still just stood there. He could see Rosita coming up the road to head home to the second house as well; another of his extended family that had returned to Alexandria. Before she got close enough for any potential conversation, Rick made his way up to his front porch and crossed the threshold into the house.

With a quiet click of the door closing behind him, he noticed movement in the dining room immediately and reached for his hatchet on instinct, but dropped his hand just as quickly when he realized it was only Georgie there, struggling to hang a throw blanket over the shattered picture window. Her boots made a soft crunching noise over what little bit of glass shards were on the floor at the base of the window frame that hadn't been expelled outside with Rick's body when he went through it. He didn't wait for her to stop and realize he was there; instead walking over to offer his assistance.

Reaching for the drooping side that was fighting her with staying up, Rick hooked it over the curtain rod that had somehow remained in place despite the brawl. Georgie turned and looked at him with little surprise and simply a small, appreciative smile.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Don't mention it."

As soon as the throw blanket was decently secure over the window, with barely a breeze rustling it inward toward them, they stepped back to double check it would be okay for the time being and then both seemed to take in remainder of the living area. Neither seemed to have any ambition to clean up anything else at the moment as their eyes drifted to each other and then back to the subtle movement the breeze caused the throw blanket to make.

"You think your crashing through windows days are behind you?" Georgie asked; a slight teasing tone in her voice.

Rick sighed. The corners of his mouth lifted a little. "I'd like to say yes, but every day is a surprise." With a more noticeable smile making an appearance on his lips, Rick stepped over to her and pulled her into his arms. Turning his face into her hair, he asked, "Did Judith get to bed okay?"

"Yeah."

"No issues?"

"None."

"Good." Snaking one hand up to the back of her head, Rick leaned back to get a better look at her face and then leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead and then upon her lips. "Let's turn in."

"Yes, please," she replied with a tired sigh. "Today was a day."

Rick awoke first, as usual, but this time it was back at home, on the floor, since their bed had been dismantled and their mattress removed by the Saviors. Finding a new mattress would be something to add to their to-do list. Or maybe they just take Michonne's if she was going to be living next door now. He shifted onto his side and adjusted his pillow under his head and looked at the back of Georgie's. Her hair was dangerously close to his nostrils so he had to pull his face back slightly as not to sniff in some strands, get tickled and sneeze on her. He watched the rise and the fall of her body from her steady sleeping. The bedside clock was blank, having been disconnected when the electricity in Alexandria went out. His wristwatch still worked, though, so Rick was able to see that it was just after eight in the morning, which meant he had managed about five hours of sleep.

After retiring to the bedroom the night before, Rick and Georgie hadn't gone straight to bed. They sat up talking; suddenly very wired with a lot to say about what to do in Alexandria and with the other communities, going forward. They also decided on what would be done with Negan. That was obviously a situation that would have to be dealt with immediately. They weren't going in blind to the fact that there would be unrest from all sides. They knew not everyone was happy about Negan being allowed to live, the same way they knew not everyone was happy that Negan, and therefore the Saviors, had lost.

They would deal with him very soon — specifically, within hours. Right now, Rick had something else he wanted, or rather needed, to do.

Rolling onto his back, Rick sat up and reached beside him for his utility belt. Slipping it on, he tucked his Colt into its holster and then climbed up to his feet. He looked around the room for a moment, as if trying to make sure he wasn't missing anything but then he just looked down at Georgie and smirked as a small wave of contentment washed over him. It was that feeling again. It was like the first day they rolled up Alexandria's gates and his mind felt like a hundred radio stations playing at once, and then she placed her hand on his and all was quiet.

He felt peace. He felt centered.

Rick left the bedroom, closing the door behind him, but not all the way. He moved down the hallway to Judith's door and listened carefully. He heard her rustling around, knowing she was awake, but he didn't go inside. Judith would call for attention soon enough and Georgie would hear it. Instead, Rick went downstairs and slipped his boots on that he had kicked off at the base of the stairs before Georgie and he had gone upstairs. Ready to greet the day, he opened the front door and stepped outside into the morning sunlight. He stood there at the top of the stairs and closed his eyes; inhaling a deep breath and releasing it a single heartbeat later. When he reopened his eyes, he felt a sense of renewal. Maybe it was just knowing the war was over and everyone could finally move onward for the better, or maybe it was as simple as enjoying the warmth from the sun at the start of a new day.

Down the steps and up the street he walked in silence. Several people were up and around already in the community but none approached him yet. Thankfully. He saw Rosita sitting on the porch to the Infirmary, and he nodded to her. In the distance he saw a few others at the different watch posts, having resumed former duties of keeping Alexandria safe through the night. A couple others were sitting together on the porches of their homes, sitting in relative silence; just enjoying another day in the world where the war was over.

At the end of the road, Rick turned left and slipped through the shrubbery, stepping into the cemetery. He walked up to the only grave that mattered to him, though he was no ignorant of the graves of those he had known that had died and been buried since his arrival to this community. There were even some missing, that never got buried here. Those his people had lost since the beginning that were buried or left behind to rot several states away, never to be seen or visited again. Some even lost here in the outskirts of the DC area that were buried in different locations for purposes of convenience; namely Glenn and Abraham. There was also Deanna. He didn't know where she was buried, but Michonne had told him Spencer had killed the walker version of his mother in the woods outside Alexandria and that Michonne had helped bury her there.

Rick cocked his head from side to side and clenched his jaw. Little moments of anger popping up caused him to bring his hands round to his front and clasp them tightly together. He dug his dirty nails into the skin between his knuckles in an attempt to channel that anger into something more productive, like focusing on the future instead of the past.

So, Rick focused on the wooden cross at the head of Carl's grave and thought about what Carl had said in his letter; about how he should make peace with Negan and make the world a better place for Judith. He tried picturing the future for her. He tried picturing taking her on the walks Carl told him to take with her. He tried picturing Judith as she got older and began to look more and more like Lori. He tried not to picture the fact that he actually saw more and more of Shane in her every day. It was the eyes, mostly. Judith had his brown eyes.

Someday Judith would begin to ask questions about her birth mother. That wasn't something he was going to keep from her. Yes, she would grow up with Georgie as her mother and calling her mom, but they would not let Judith become ignorant to the fact that she had another mother who had given up her own life so that Judith could live. But in talking about Lori, and describing what she looked like, Rick knew that Judith would start to put two and two together; that if Rick had blue eyes and if Lori had green eyes, how in the hell did she end up with brown? And that's when the discussion about Shane would have to be had. Rick just hoped that was a conversation that could wait for many more years and that when it happened, it went smoothly.

"The war's over. We won," Rick whispered to Carl's grave, hoping that, in some way, his son could hear him from the afterlife. If there was an afterlife. "I let Negan live against my better judgment. But I didn't just do it for you. I did it because of you. I looked at myself and didn't like who I was becoming again. I remembered how good it could be to live in relative peace, to be a farmer, like back at the prison before we lost everything there." He smirked, thinking on those six or so months of no drama and how wonderful it had been to grow as a community. "I'm not an idiot, though. I know that eventually something else will come along to threaten what we're going to rebuild. But the point is we're going to rebuild, and we're going to have the time to do it."

Rick fell silent as tears began to line his eyes; waiting on a response from his son that would never come. He could still hear how Carl's voice sounded and one of the things about going forward without Carl was that eventually he would forget how he sounded. He had photos, at least, thanks to Aaron's camera and the old school method of developing film.

Closing his eyes, Rick felt tears fall down his face as he kept his breathing steady and focused on the sun's warmth.

It was the little things that helped.

It was the sun, it was the cool breeze on a terribly hot day, and it was the laughter of children playing without worry.

It was a hand to hold.

"Daddy."

Rick opened his eyes.

For a moment, he thought it was actually Carl, but the voice was much younger and feminine. It made him smile almost instantly. Before he turned around, he brought a hand to his face and wiped the tears away, and then turned to greet his daughter who was standing there, holding Georgie's hand and was smiling back up at him.

"Someone woke up wanting you something fierce," Georgie informed with a smile of her own. Off Rick's glance at her, she added, "There was even a brief moment of a tantrum but that I was able to squash by offering to take her for a walk to find you. Kind of had a feeling you would be here."

Rick sighed. "Yeah." Crouching down he hoisted Judith up into his arms and planted a few kisses on her cheek and then holding her close against his chest. "I had to tell him about what happened yesterday."

Georgie knew what he meant. She let her eyes drift to Carl's fresh grave and then her eyes wandered over to Tristan's settled grave. "It's been a while since I've provided my own updates. We've been so preoccupied."

"Well, now we have the time." Rick reached his freshly stitched up and bandaged right hand out, the one that Siddiq had taken care of for him when they initially returned to the Hilltop, and placed that hand onto Georgie's shoulder. "We have all the time in the world."

Georgie nodded, reaching her own hand out, but to push some hair away from Judith's face. "We do. But right now I think it's time for dealing with our new resident."

For a moment, Rick thought she meant Siddiq, but then realized she was being kind with her turn of phrase. "Yeah. That guy. We definitely need to talk to him and rectify his new, uh, living situation."

After taking a moment, the three of them together, to take in where they still were, they retreated back through the shrubbery and onto the road. They passed by the burnt out church, then the row of townhouses before the Infirmary came upon them. Georgie suggested she could take Judith back home if he wanted to deal with Negan alone, but Rick opted against that. If Judith had thrown a bit of a tantrum because she had wanted him, then he would take her home and be the one to find someone to look after her for a while. He would meet back up with Georgie as soon as he could at the Infirmary and they would go in together to deal with Negan as a united front.

In the same vein of thought that Georgie had the night before, Rick wasn't about to leave his daughter with Barbara again. The woman had done enough babysitting in the last week while in the midst of grieving the loss of both of her children. She had gone above and beyond for him and she deserved the break from child care duties so she could be left alone to grieve in peace. He had seen Michonne at any of the lookouts on his trek to the cemetery earlier and didn't believe her to be at the Infirmary, so he decided she was likely still at home in the second house, and he would be right in that assumption. He didn't walk right in when he reached that house. He knocked on the door and waited, while occupying Judith with pretending to eat her fingers and watching how she giggled at his silliness. When the door opened, Michonne was staring back at the pair with a smile.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," he replied. "Can you keep her occupied for a little while?"

"Sure. What's up?" Michonne asked as she reached for Judith and pulled the girl into her arms.

"Georgie and I talked last night about what exactly is gonna be done with Negan, and we're gonna let him know how things are gonna be for him now. We shouldn't be too long."

Michonne considered the information and nodded. "Okay. Yeah. Take as much time as you need. I suppose I could use some down time with this cutie. It'll be nice to not have to deal with anything else for a bit."

"Thank you."

"No problem."

Rick cleared his throat and cast a glance up the road toward the intersection and, beyond that to the Infirmary where he could just make out Georgie on the porch where Rosita had been earlier. "Later, though," he continued, bringing his gaze back forward, "there'll be a bit of a town meeting to discuss moving this community forward and plans for all our communities rebuilding society."

"Sure, sure. About when?"

Rick shrugged, looking down at his watch. Tilting his head to the side in contemplation, he answered, "Let's go with about two. Since the church is out as a meeting place, we'll use the Monroe's for now. It was big enough before when we used it for planning out how to deal with that herd."

"Okay."

"Bring Judith with you to that," he added. "Georgie and I decided we won't be handing her off to Barbara for a while so Barbara can grieve her kids. And I want everyone here in attendance. Except for Barbara. I mean, if she wants to come, then okay. But no pressure on her or anything. Just help spread the word about the meeting though."

Michonne nodded again. "Can do."

"Thanks." Rick stepped backward and gave Judith a small smile and wave, and muttered a quick request that she be good for Auntie Michonne, and then he stepped down from the porch.

Sauntering up the road, he looked forward; squinting from the morning sun in his eyes. But even then he could still see Georgie on the Infirmary's porch. She was still waiting for him, standing there alone and gripping the porch railing. Before he actually reached the Infirmary, himself, Aaron was coming out of his house with baby Gracie in his arms; having decided to take on the sole responsibility of caring for her.

"Rick," Aaron greeted with a smile, despite his own recent loss of his partner, Eric.

"How is she?" Rick inquired, bypassing any cliché greetings and pleasantries, as the other man and child came down the front steps of their home and approached him.

"She's good. A little fussy. I think she's just sensing she's in new surroundings again. And she's still getting used to me, but I think we'll both be fine." Aaron's gaze was primarily on his new, adoptive daughter, but he did alternate in giving Rick acknowledgement with his eyes here and there.

"I'm glad to hear that."

"I was just wondering," Aaron began with what felt like was going to be a request or favor of sorts from Rick. "Judith's getting a little older and bigger and I know she's got a crib. Is she still sleeping in it? I've got Gracie in a laundry basket lined with towels right now and was wondering if Judith was growing out of her crib, that maybe I could snag it from you?"

Rick smirked. He glanced over at Georgie, knowing she could hear Aaron just fine, and more or less letting her take the reins on this request. "What do you think? You think Judith's ready for a big girl bed?"

Georgie shrugged. "She'll need a mattress first. The Saviors took Carl's twin."

"I have a twin mattress in a spare bedroom upstairs the Saviors didn't take," Aaron offered up, looking between the couple. "Had Carl been sleeping on the floor?"

"We all were," Georgie replied. "Having an actual bed to sleep in at the Hilltop was probably the only high point of this past week."

Rick chewed on his bottom lip for a moment; his mind wandering toward darker thoughts before Gracie's coos brought him back to the present. "We'll, uh, work on switching up beds and mattresses later tonight or tomorrow," he remarked, scratching at the back of his neck from the beads of sweat already forming there. He dropped his hand back down and then gestured between Georgie and himself. "We have a few things to get squared away with You-Know-Who first, and there's gonna be a town meeting this afternoon. Two o'clock in the Monroe's living room. Spread the word. All in attendance, kids can come. It's nothing dark and scary that they can't hear."

"They've all probably seen worse than we could ever say with words anyway," Georgie quipped.

Rick cocked his head to the side and raised his brow slightly, unable to disagree with what she'd said. "You're not wrong."

"Alright," Aaron nodded. "I'll take this one for a walk and visit some folks, let them know about the meeting. Two, you said, right?"

"Yeah."

"Head to our house. Grab the stroller out of the garage. Judith doesn't need that anymore, nor the high chair, and the bottles and formula in the cupboards. Literally, just take any baby stuff you need," Georgie offered up. "Judith is past needing those things. Diapers, too. She's started using the toilet like a big girl back at Hilltop."

Aaron chuckled. "Well, hey, something more than just winning a war to celebrate." Smiling at both Rick and Georgie, he shifted Gracie into his other arm. "Thank you for everything, by the way." A brief moment of silence passed between the three adults and then he added, "Okay. Two PM. Monroe's."

With little more than a nod, Aaron walked off with his adoptive daughter; leaving Rick to turn and step up over to Georgie. Aaron's thanks still hung in the air between them and neither was sure if Aaron had been thanking them for the baby stuff or for their parts in winning the war against the Saviors. Either way, they were just glad their friend was doing okay, all things considered.

As Rick stepped up onto the Infirmary's porch, he touched his right hand to Georgie's left forearm. "You ready to do this?"

"Are you?" she retorted.

Rick snickered. "Oh, hell yes."

Georgie turned around and opened the door, stepping first into the Infirmary where she and Rick both found Siddiq and Rosita, sitting around the kitchen island, having a quiet chat. Rosita had a notepad in front of her and was jotting some sort of information down when she set down her pen and both of them looked over at the couple entering in.

"Hey, how's your hand?" Siddiq queried, getting up off his stool and standing there awkwardly as he gestured to Rick's bandage.

"It's been through worse." Rick replied initially, before adding, "It's fine. Thanks."

"Make sure to let me know if it seems infected. We were just taking stock of what's left here in regard to meds, and there's still a decent supply of meds for taking care of infection."

"Is he awake?" Georgie interrupted, getting to the heart of why they were there.

Siddiq sighed and shrugged. "I checked on him about an hour ago. He was asleep then." He lowered his voice just a bit and leaned closer toward Rick and Georgie. "But I did hear him shifting around a little while ago. I think he might've finally been beginning to stir."

Rick nodded and gestured toward the medic to follow as he led him and Georgie for the bedroom where Negan was being kept, shut away inside and cuffed to the bed so he couldn't get away. Inside the room, Rick stepped heavily around bed; purposely making sure the sound of his boots reverberated on the wooden floor, before coming to a standstill upon Negan's right side at the foot of the bed. Siddiq kept his distance, more of a spectator, while Rick looked over at Georgie with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. She was standing directly at Negan's left side and when she looked away from Rick, she shifted her gaze down upon Negan; watching the way his brow was furrowed. His light breathing and the lack of REM under his eyelids was a solid indicator that he was either at the end stages of sleep or not asleep at all. She figured it was the latter and took off running with that deduction. He was just too still.

"We know you're awake," she spoke.

The faintest of smirks appeared on his lips for a brief moment. "I never said I wasn't," his whispered; his voice quite raspy from his injury.

Georgie narrowed her gaze upon him. "Good. Because we need to tell you some things. And you don't have to open your eyes now. But you're gonna open them soon. Because we're gonna make you watch what happens."

As if on cue, Negan's eyes opened and his gaze, at the moment, was only on the ceiling above him.

"And this isn't about who you killed," Rick added to the conversation as Negan began to look over at him. "No, we've—we killed people. No, this is about what you did to us, what you did to so many people. How you made people live for you, how you put people under your boot."

"I saved people!" Negan countered, with as much strength in his voice as he could muster, which wasn't a lot. As he tried sitting up, Georgie reached down and gripped his throat—making sure he knew his place and letting him know he was literally at her mercy. He gasped from the pressure of her hand and the pain she was causing.

"Georgie," Siddiq muttered, warily.

Her voice calm and cool, she looked back at the medic while keeping her hand in place while Negan grunted. "He needs to know," she replied simply; her tone as firm as her hand's grip. Like a teacher preparing to reprimand her very young student. "This isn't a discussion."

"We can open up his stitches for a little while to remind him," Rick suggested. Whether he was teasing or serious was anyone's guess. Turning his gaze from Siddiq back to Negan, he continued with what needed saying. "Carl pictured something better." He clenched his jaw to hold in his emotion merely at mentioning his son's name to the man below him. That mixture of raw anger and grief that was still brewing beneath the surface was palpable but he couldn't give Negan the benefit of seeing him crack. Not now. "All of us working together...for something bigger than all of us." It was almost like vinegar on his tongue, saying those words. He could've been fine killing all the Saviors and killing Negan, but for Carl's sake—to honor his son—he needed to uphold Carl's last wishes. He had to be a better person. "And you'll have a job, too."

Rick sauntered around the end of the bed and came to stand beside Georgie as she finally released her hand from Negan's throat. "Yeah," she nodded. "You get to be a part of it. You'll be an example of what this will be."

"We're not gonna kill you. We're not gonna hurt you," Rick informed, taking pleasure in what he was going to say next. "You're gonna rot in a cell."

"For the rest of your life—day after day," Georgie interjected with a gratified gleam in her eyes, all while Negan's defiance gave way to dread and even the chance of tears in his eyes.

"You're gonna be evidence that we're makin' a civilization; something like what we had, something we're gonna get back."

"And you get to watch it happen. And you get to see how wrong you were about what people can be—about what life can be."

"You, alive, is gonna help show people that things have changed, that keeping you breathing earns another way, a better way," Rick added; him and Georgie seamlessly going back and forth in explaining things to Negan. "That's the part you'll play."

While Rick began to step away, Georgie remained in place, still staring down at the dejected man before her. "So after all this…maybe you're good for something." Stepping backward a bit, she looked to Rick. When he nodded to her, they both began to leave the room without another word while Siddiq awkwardly followed after them; not sure what else to do at the moment. "We'll keep him in here one more day," she finally spoke again, only after the door was shut behind them. As they made their way into the main area of the Infirmary where Rosita was, she added, "He only gets water to drink right now. If he has to piss, two people supervise. One person uncuffs only one of his hands and gives him a literal pot to piss in. The other keeps a gun on him so he doesn't make any false moves. He stays in that room unless we say otherwise."

Rick placed his hand on the island countertop as he looked between Siddiq and Rosita. "When we do move him, it'll be at night," he added quietly, so that his voice would, in no way, carry so that Negan couldn't possibly hear him speaking. "We'll only take a couple people as guards. Morgan built that cell in that basement. That's where he'll go. That's where he'll stay."

"Will there be people acting as guards?" Rosita asked.

Rick shrugged. "That cell is sturdy. Morgan did great work building that. Negan won't be getting out once he's been locked in with the key thrown away. In the beginning, maybe someone outside the building, just to play it safe."

"He'll be left down there, alone, with little to no interaction from another human being, but he won't be forgotten." Georgie folded her arms over her chest and glanced between Siddiq and Rosita. "We don't want anyone to forget he's here. We don't want anyone to forget what happened. They all need to know that there is punishment from serious crimes, but they also need to know we have to be better than we have been. We're trying to rebuild society, after all."

Georgie looked over at Rick, and then Rick nodded; agreeing with what she said. Of course, he already agreed with it because it was the same things they had discussed with each other the night before. Silence filled the room for a few moments, and then Rick cleared his throat.

"We're holding a meeting in the Monroe's living room at two to discuss going forward, for all of us—Alexandria, Hilltop, the Kingdom and even the Sanctuary…"

Rick was staring down at his hands and the pad of paper underneath them at the dining room table where he sat in the Monroe townhouse. The books that Deanna once had cluttered on top of it had been either moved to the floor or near the bookshelves in the living room. A pen lay beside his right hand, untouched but patiently waiting to be held. To his right, one of the sets of double doors sat wide open and a pleasantly warm breeze had made its way inside, ruffling not only the sheer curtains but also his curls which licked at the base of his neck.

The last of the Alexandrians had left about fifteen minutes prior after a town meeting that had gone on for almost two hours. It was two very productive hours, though. So much had been discussed and there had been so many great suggestions, ideas and remedies for going forward; suggestions, ideas and remedies he planned on taking to the Kingdom and the Hilltop to share with Ezekiel and Maggie, respectively, on how to rebuild and how to deal with the Sanctuary in this, the aftermath of the war.

Besides himself, the only other people in the townhouse were Georgie and Judith; the latter of whom was running around kitchen, giggling, with Georgie hot on her trail.

Rick actually found himself grinning from ear to ear.

He loved how Judith's giggles wafted from the kitchen into the dining room and bounced off the walls. He loved watching as she quickly darted out of the kitchen, ran around the dining table and hid behind him as Georgie pretended to not know where Judith was. He loved the squeal Judith made when Georgie magically discovered where she was and began to chase after her again; the mother-daughter duo moving from the dining room to the living room and out into the main hall and then up the stairs.

Rick listened to the sound of their heavy footsteps, hurriedly slipping from room to room above him and the beginnings of a new thought process began to percolate in his mind. He leaned back in the chair on which he sat and looked out the open double doors. He looked briefly down at the notepad, and then around the room. Pushing the chair back, he stood up and walked out the double doors and onto the side porch that looked down onto an enclosed patio; the same enclosed patio where his group had convened upon their arrival to Alexandria and had to hand over all their guns to Olivia before taking turns to meet with Deanna.

As Rick gripped the porch railing, he suddenly remembered something so important.

Earlier, that morning, when he was at Carl's grave, he had been worrying about how he would forget the sound of Carl's voice. But what he had actually forgotten was the fact that Carl's interview with Deanna had been videotaped the same as everyone else's. Rick would be able to see his son again and hear his voice. As long as that video existed, Carl would always remain fresh in his memory for whenever he needed it. Plus, it would be there for Judith, who was going to grow up without her big brother and now wouldn't have to slowly forget what he was like, the older she got.

He wasn't sure how long he had been standing on the porch, staring out at nothing in particular while so deep in thought, but eventually those thoughts were interrupted by Georgie clearing her throat behind him. When he turned around to greet her, she was smiling gently and came over to join him at the railing. She placed her hand over his and a pleasant memory seemed to appear in both their minds: the night of Deanna's welcome party, when Rick and Georgie had slipped out onto the porch to talk, and then, with Carol's assistance, been able to slip away from the party and wound up making love for the first time in one of the bedrooms upstairs from the pantry.

Rick and Georgie smirked at each other.

"Where's Judith?" he asked after a moment, when the memory returned into the corners of their mind.

"She got tired from running around. In the time it took for me to use the bathroom upstairs and come back to the room where I'd left her, she'd passed out on that big ol' king size bed in the master bedroom."

"A king size bed?" Rick repeated, as if impressed. "Must be nice."

"It's super comfortable, too," Georgie remarked. "Deanna and Reg must've slept like babies on it."

Rick tapped his fingers along the railing and narrowed his gaze as he looked toward the inside of the townhouse. "Hmm."

"What?" Georgie inquired, raising an eyebrow. "What's on your mind?"

"This place."

"Alexandria?"

"No, this house," he clarified. "Remember when we talked about where we might want to live as a family, after everything with Jake happened? We talked about where you and I would live with Carl, Tristan and Judith. We considered where were are now, or moving into the blue house. We kind of never actually made a decision. We just stayed where we are. More homes have opened up lately, what with recent deaths and others simply relocating to the Kingdom or Hilltop. We don't have to stay where we are. We have our pick of several places now."

"You want to move?"

"We're moving forward as united communities. We're trying to rebuild society. We've got a future to look toward. We can't stay stuck in the past. And I…I just think…" Rick looked downward and pinched his nose with his thumb and index finger. It almost seemed like an hour before he finally finished his thought process. "I can't live in that house without Carl," he admitted. "Michonne…I think she more or less moved out last night to give us space as a family, but that house was our house with Carl and with Tristan. Without them, and with only Judith now, and with all these changes going on, I think the change of scenery for us will be good. And this house, right here, can be the right fit for us." Rick gestured between the two of them. "You and I, we're co-leaders here." He smirked a little at her. "That night, back at Gabriel's church in Georgia, you mentioned heavy is the head that wears the crown; that you knew what it was like to lead people because you'd done it before. Well, whether you like it or not, you're sharing this damn crown with me. And this house was a leader's house. It's more centrally located. It's built tall and strong. It's safer for Judith to grow up in and it's big enough to have people here for meetings until we rebuild Gabriel's church here. It just makes sense to me."

Georgie considered all this for a few moments. She looked from Rick and then beyond him toward the houses across the street as a bittersweet smile appeared at the corners of her lips. "It is closer to our sons."

Rick followed her gaze, and she was right. From where they stood, the shrubbery to the cemetery was easily visible. Really, it was pretty much just across the street; barely fifty or so feet. "It is," he agreed. Stepping closer to her, Rick snaked an arm around her waist and leaned his forehead against hers. "So what do you say? Is this home?"

Georgie exhaled a breath and nodded as she tipped her face upward enough to press her lips to his. After a short but sweet kiss, she replied, "Yeah. I think this place will work just fine for the three of us."

Rick and Georgie decided they would officially move into the townhouse the following day and offer their former home back to Michonne if she wanted it for herself, or to share with anyone else. That night, just after nightfall, and after Georgie had put Judith to sleep, Rick had rounded up Aaron, Scott, Michonne and Rosita in helping him guard Negan as they removed him from the Infirmary and took him down to the cell where he would live out the rest of his life. Rick had decided he didn't want to wait until the next day. He didn't need it done in the light of day so that Negan would have an audience. Negan didn't get to have an audience to pander to anymore.

He was locked inside the cell with the very basic of necessities. He was given a blanket and a pillow for sleeping. He was given a bottle of water to keep him hydrated and a small package of only two crackers for when he was ready to try eating again. In one corner was a bucket, and that's all he had to piss and shit in. The fact that he was allowed a roll of toilet paper was a minor kindness.

Other than those items, he only had himself. He was locked inside and left alone. There would be no one to talk to and no one to hear him speak. There was nothing to occupy himself other than the sound of his own voice and the dust that was settled on the floor on which he could draw. The days and the nights would be long and he would go stir crazy.

That brought a smile to Rick's face as he made his way home to the house on the end of the road, where Georgie, Judith and he would be spending their last night as its residents. He had carried the notepad and pen from the townhouse back with here earlier and now he brought it out onto the front porch with him as he sat down in one of the chairs. To his left, in the corner, he noticed two blue handprints. One larger and one smaller. Carl and Judith. They hadn't been there before the start of the war and realized Carl must've done it with Judith on his last day of life when he was getting his affairs in order.

Rick tipped his head back and wiped a stray tear from his eyes as he swallowed down a sob that almost escaped his throat. Crossing one leg over the other, right ankle against left knee, he rested the notepad down on his inner thigh and exhaled deeply before lowering the pen to paper.

Dear Carl, he began. I remember. I forgot who I was. You made me remember. I remember that feeling, walking with you that day. Like I finally knew who I was for the first time in my life. Thing is, we were walking side-by-side, but you were bringing me somewhere. Bringing me here. Bringing all of us to the new world, Carl. You showed me the new world. You made it real. I see it. I remember.

Looking back up from his letter to his son, he exhaled a calm breath. There was a sense of peace in the quiet and in the darkness. He could finally bring himself to feeling as if he might be okay to go forward into this new world without Carl. His son was at peace, with his mother, and the rest of their family and friends they lost before and after the fall of the old world, and on the path to getting here today. Carl would never hurt again or be hurt. The life he had led was short and it was hard but it had a purpose to it and Carl's strength all the way to the end gave Rick the strength to do the same. For his son, for his daughter, for Georgie, and himself. He didn't just want to, he needed to.

His eyes teared up and he smiled a sad smile to himself as he looked back down at the letter and signed it.

Dad.