AN: Before this starts, I want to mention the midseason finale for season nine. And by wanting to mention it, I mean that I want to forget it ever happened. So please enjoy this chapter that heavily features Jesus instead. Or don't, 'cause it's highkey depressing. BewareTheWalkers out.

Chapter 6: Four White Walls

~Aaron~

Gregory lunges for Clary before any of us can react, knocking her to the ground. I draw my gun without a second though, pistol whipping Gregory and knocking him off of my daughter. I aim my gun at Gregory, snapping, "Nobody touches her!"

He presses his hand to his head, still crying and begging. Blood runs down from his temple, down his cheek and to his collar. Eduardo and Kal grab him again, and he doesn't put up a fight this time as they drag him into the pen. I follow him with my gun, lowering it once he's in. Clary remains on the ground, curling in on herself and hiding her face with her arm.

Dianne moves to close the gate to the pen and chain it after they exit, but the long haired Savior thinks that it's a good idea to try to go after her. Maggie's faster, hitting him with the butt of her rifle. I step forward, one hand hovering above my pistol, ready to defend Maggie, need be. The same step is also making Clary stay behind me, until I realize that she hasn't moved.

The Savior sighs, brushing his hair out of his face after he checks to see if his temple is bleeding. "Oh, honey," he says, then looks up at Maggie. "You're gonna get these people killed. Well, you already got some people killed, didn't ya?" The Savior gestures towards Clary with his head. "How do you think the Orphan over there got her name?"

I kneel in front of Clary, blocking her from the view of the Saviors. Clary tries to fight me at first when I attempt to pull her arms away from her face, but she gives in when she sees that it's me. "Did he hurt you?" I question.

"Not physically," Clary replies, her voice barely above a whisper. I help her sit, cradling her in my arms. She has a smudge of dirt on her cheek from Gregory knocking her to the ground. I lick my thumb, rubbing it against her cheek to clean the dirt. Clary doesn't react, just stares ahead at something. I follow her gaze, only to see that she's looking at the graves of Glenn and Abraham. I question, "Have you been by yet?"

Clary shakes her head. I keep my arm around her as we get to our feet, Clary leaning against my chest. I keep my back to the Saviors, my daughter in front of me. "You okay, sweetheart?" I question.

"Gotta be," Clary immediately replies, without even thinking about it. I give her a look, and she bites her lip before saying, "No, I'm not. I'm far from. These people just watched me get knocked down quite a few rungs. Ever since Negan found out you adopted me, he's been callin' me 'the Orphan,' even though my birth parents were never my parents. It's not just the Saviors that are seeing me as weak now, and there's not a damn thing I can do because, for once, I am weak. So, no, Aaron, I am not okay. I'm not even close."

~Carl~

I pause for a moment when I see a walker caught in a trap, not unlike the ones Mogan had back in King County. I start forward, planning on killing the walker, but someone else beats me to it. I quickly recognize him as the man I'm looking for, the man Clary and I saw the day before it all started. I call out, "Hey."

His head snaps up at my voice, and I raise my hands, a bag of food and water in one, to show him I mean no harm. "It was my dad," I tell him, taking a few steps closer. "They were warning shots above your head. He wasn't shooting at you. I'm Carl."

"Siddiq," he replies after glancing around for a few seconds, making sure there's no one lurking in the woods, waiting to fire more warning shots above his head.

I hold up my bag, showing it to him. "Food and water."

"Why?" Siddiq questions.

"I guess… you were talking about something your mom said. About helping people. My mom told me that you gotta do what's right. It's hard to know what that is sometimes, but sometimes it's not."

I throw the bag towards him, and it lands just a few feet in front of him. Siddiq lowers his knife, dropping to his knees and ripping open the bag. He opens the water first, chugging half of the bottle. When Siddiq pauses to breath, he lifts his head, telling me, "Thanks.

"I'm glad I found you," I tell Siddiq as he gets to his feet, putting the food in the pocket of his coat.

"You were looking for me?" Siddiq questions. "What about that girl, the one that was with you?"

"Clary," I supply. "She's, um…"

"Dead?"

"What? No! No, she's at a community we're allied with. But she'd be here if she was back home. Clary, my dad, and I, we're in a community." Hope shines in his eyes as he looks at me. "I'm gonna ask you a few questions. I need you to answer honestly, okay?" He nods. "How many walkers have you killed? I know it's hard to keep track—"

"Two hundred and thirty-seven."

I can't help but chuckle because he rattled off the number without even thinking. "Really?"

Siddiq glances at the walker he just killed. "Give or take a couple."

"How many people have you killed?"

"One."

"Why?"

"The dead tried to kill him. They didn't."

"You're making walker traps," I observe. "Is that how you're killing so many?"

"Part of it," he replies. "My mom thought—or hoped, I guess—that killing them would free their souls." I give him a small smile because it's rare to find people that care that much about humanity nowadays. "You know, maybe she was right."

"Doesn't that make things harder for you while you're trying to survive?" I inquire.

"I don't know," Siddiq says. "I guess I never really thought about it. But you gotta honor your parents, right?"

"If I was honoring my dad, we wouldn't be talking right now," I joke. "And I definitely wouldn't bring you back to my community." I turn in the direction of Alexandria, gesturing for Siddiq to follow with a jerk of my head. "Come with me."

~Aaron~

We're all silent in Maggie's office, aside from the occasional fuss from Gracie as Maggie shifts her in her arms. Clary sits in my lap, her head against my shoulder. There are other chairs, but I don't mind, even if my leg has fallen asleep. I keep my arms wrapped around her, relishing in the fact that she's still here. I absentmindedly toy with her hair, which now reaches the bottom of her shoulder blades. Eric braided it for her after she was shot, and had taken to braiding it every night after that. For a split second, I find myself wondering why he didn't braid it last night.

"I keep… forgetting he's gone," I say, glancing up from Clary. "I have this… weight. There's moments when I think I'll see him, that I'll, um… be able to talk about how I'm feeling with him. And then my mind catches up, and I remember that the pain is about knowing that'll never happen."

"I know that feeling," Maggie says.

"Does it get easier?"

"No. But it helps to do something about it."

"Dolor hic tibi proderit olim," Clary says, speaking for the first time in a while. "'Someday this pain will be useful to you.' It's what Deanna used to say."

Before I can stop myself, in my best Abraham voice, I question, "'Who's Deanna?'"

Maggie chuckles softly, remembering it; and Clary elbows me gently in the ribs. "I saw him, you know," Clary murmurs. "That night, here. I saw Abe and Glenn."

"Jesus said he found you with them," I recall.

"That's not what I meant. I saw them. And I know they weren't real, but… I felt them, you know?" Clary sighs. "Maybe I'm just losing my mind."

"I think you're just as sane as I am," Jesus says from the doorway. A small smile flickers on Clary's lips, as if Jesus has said that to her before.

Maggie looks up at Jesus, questioning, "How is he?"

"Gregory's fine," Jesus answers, closing the door behind him. "He's trying to suck up to the Saviors now. I just wanted to say… I think you did the right thing. I wanted to thank you."

"Don't," Maggie orders. Gracie starts to cry, so Maggie gets up, rocking her as she walks around the room. "The Saviors in that pen might be bargaining chips. Maybe we'll have to trade them for some of our own people." Jesus bows his head. "They're alive because we might need 'em. Jesus." Maggie turns to face him, and Jesus lifts his head. "If we don't… we can't let 'em live."

It has to end, I realize. It has to end, but we don't have enough people to end it. But maybe... I don't know if it'll work, but I have to try.

I nudge Clary, and she gets up to allow me to stand. I rest my hand on her arm, telling her, "Stay with Jesus, okay?" I press a kiss to her temple, the same place I always kiss; where her scar is from the bullet she took for Eric and I. "I love you."

"Love you, too, Dad," Clary responds. I nod to Jesus as I pass, and he claps my shoulder as he steps farther into the room. I head outside, hoping like hell that Clary stays away from the windows until I'm gone.

I grab my stuff, putting it in the backseat. I close the door, and I hear Enid question, "Where are you going?"

I sigh, knowing that every second that passes as I speak to Enid is another second closer to Clary seeing me leaving and following out beyond the walls. "To make sure we win," I answer, leaning against the open driver's door.

"Let me come with you," Enid requests. I start to protest, but Enid cuts me off before I can. "You're right. We need to win."

I bow my head, making my decision quickly. "Grab your stuff. And some food. We might be gone for a while." Enid turns to leave, but pauses when I add, "And Enid? Don't tell Clary. Please. I can't lose her, too."

Enid simply nods in understanding before taking off, retrieving her supplies before we take off to find our shot at winning this war.

~Clary~

I wrap my arms around myself as I watch Aaron walk out of Maggie's office, feeling the uneasiness that comes with being separated from Aaron growing. I hate it; anything could happen to him, and I'd be powerless to stop it.

Jesus claps Aaron's shoulder as he passes, closing the door after him. I bow my head, and Jesus wraps his arms around me, tucking my head under his chin. I latch onto him, closing my eyes. He runs a hand through my hair, cradling my head in his hand. Jesus presses a kiss to the top of my head, murmuring, "How are you doing, poppet?"

I hold on tighter, whispering, "I just want it to go back to normal."

"You and me both," Jesus says with a sigh, taking a seat in the chair Aaron had previously been in. I sit on his lap, pressing my face into his shoulder. Jesus simply holds me, instead of making a koala joke like I know he's waiting to make.

I lift my head from Jesus's shoulder when I hear a car start, getting to my feet. I go to the window, opening the curtains as Aaron's car pulls towards the gate. I watch him leave, unable to do anything. My hands tighten around the curtains, a white-knuckled grip.

Aaron left without me. He left me behind. I want to run after him, but I have to keep the promise I made Eric. At the same time, I can't lose Aaron, too. It'll kill me.

I don't even realize I'm shaking until I feel Jesus's hands on mine, softly murmuring, "Hey, easy. Let go of the curtains, poppet. They didn't do anything to you."

He pries my hands from the curtains, turning me to face him. Jesus takes my face in his hands, pressing his forehead against mine. Those hands, ones that are as familiar as my brother's or my dad's. Those hands, soft against my skin. Gentle as always, but able to pack a punch. Those hands, warm and tender and alive.

"Hey, hey, hey, Clary," Jesus says. "Clary, can you focus for me? Focus on my voice, okay? Just listen to me. I need you to stay with me. I need you here." He just keeps talking, rambling almost, as he tries to pull me from my mind. "Stay with me, Cheyenne, please."

"He left me," I whisper, wrapping my hands around Jesus's. "He-he-he left me. Why?"

"I can't answer that for him," Jesus replies. "But I'll be here. I'm not going to leave you."

I pull away from Jesus's forehead, instead resting my head against his shoulder, pressing my face into the crook of his neck. "Take me home," I softly request. "Please, Paul. I just want to go home."

"You got it," Jesus murmurs, gently stroking my hair. "Maggie?"

"Yeah?" Maggie questions.

"I'm taking Clary to Alexandria. Will you be okay here? Need anything while I'm gone?"

"No, I'll be okay," Maggie replies. "Drive safe, you two."

"C'mon," Jesus murmurs, gently urging me towards the door. "Let's get you home."

Jesus keeps his arm around me, hand resting on my arm, as we walk down to his car, parked somewhat close to the Saviors' pen. The Saviors, upon seeing us, crowd towards the fence. One of them lets out a wolf whistle. Aside from a blond guy, all of the Saviors join in, calling, "Look who it is! The Orphan! Hey, sweetheart, where you off to?"

"Stay here," Jesus orders, crossing the lawn between the path and the pen in a few strides. He draws his gun, aiming it at the first Savior to start whistling—the one with the long hair that went after Dianne. He growls, "You leave her alone. You don't look at her, you don't talk to her. Any one of you say another goddamn word to her, you'll all be swinging from the gallows. Get it, got it, good."

With that final threat, Jesus lowers his gun and walks back to me. He opens the car door for me, glaring down at the Saviors before climbing in the driver's seat. Kal already has the gate opened as we're pulling up to it, and I watch it close in the mirror behind us. I glance towards Jesus as he drives, and I finally say, "Hey, Jesus?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For everything you've done for me."

"Your obedient servant," Jesus says with a grin, then glances towards me before taking my hand. "In all seriousness, Clary, it's why I'm here. Because you'd do the same for me."

"Daryl wanted to leave you in a tree," I tell him.

Jesus snorts in amusement. "I remember. But you didn't. You stood up for me."

We fall into a silence that Jesus breaks a few minutes later, stating, "I have an idea."

"Hit me," I tell him.

"Alright, so after this is over," he begins, "you and me, we get Daryl drunk. I don't know, maybe we could do it just as he's sleeping. That part's up in the air. But basically, while he's out, we take him and we put him up a tree. And we leave him there. Not a tree outside the walls, of course. I'm not that mean. Just a tree in Alexandria."

I have to smile, even if it's just a tiny one. "Alright. That will be our first order of business, post war. It's not gonna be rebuilding the world. It's gonna be leaving Daryl in a tree."

The gate opens as Jesus slows to a stop in front of it, and he pulls in, parking along the wall. The gate doesn't close behind us, but that's because someone else is returning. "Carl?" I question, at first in confusion. "Why were you out—oh my god!"

I cut myself off when I see the blood on his clothes, and he joins Jesus and I. I grab his arms, checking them for bites as I demand, "What the hell happened?"

"Hey, hey, I'm okay," Carl tells me, grasping my hands in his before I can check any further. "I've survived worse. I'm still here."

"How can you say that?" I question, jerking my hands back. "You've 'survived worse.' Why did you survive that bullet?"

I jab my finger into his stomach, right at the place where I know his scar is. Carl closes his eye as it dawns on him, slowly saying, "This is about your dad."

"Every time I find something good in this god awful life, it gets taken away from me! I had a family for once in my life! For the first time in my life! I had something other than just my brother! And now it's gone! He's gone! Why did you survive and he didn't?!"

"Clary, I'm so sorry," Carl murmurs.

"Why do I have to lose?! Why does it always have to be me?!"

"Clary," Carl starts, then pauses for a moment. "Clary, yelling at me like this isn't going to bring Eric back. It won't bring back anyone that you've lost or… or anyone that you're going to lose."

"You don't think I know that?!" I question, choking back at a sob. "Eric's gone and Aaron took off! And Daryl? I haven't seen my brother since that godforsaken outpost! It's why Jesus brought me back. I had no one else to."

"You know you're not alone, right?" Carl softly asks, taking my hand. "I mean, you got Jesus. You got everyone in Alexandria. You got me." Carl pulls me forward, wrapping me in a hug. "You need to talk about it, you know I'm there. You were there for me."

"Thank you," I whisper, resting my forehead in the crook of his neck as I wrap my arms around his waist. "Carl, I'm really sorry. That shit that I said, I didn't mean a word of it. I'm so glad you're still here."

"It's okay," Carl tells me, gently running a hand through my hair. "I completely understand everything you're going through. It hurts, and it sucks. Every little thing that happens, you think of how it would happen if they were there. You just… it's like, you can't focus on anything 'cause your mind keeps drifting back to them, drifting to the last moment you were together. And you don't know how to deal with it, 'cause you never even had to think about losing your mom or your dad."

"Carl," I murmur. "Why do I keep losing?"

"I don't know, baby," he whispers. "Do you want to come back tonight? I mean, uh, stay with Michonne and I? Well, whenever Michonne gets back. You don't have to be in the house by yourself."

"I'd rather be there," I reply. "But thank you for the offer."

"Any time," Carl replies. "And it always stands, by the way."

I turn to Jesus as he lightly tugs on my jacket, questioning, "You want me to walk you home?"

"Will you?" I request. Jesus gestures for me to follow him with a jerk of his head. I glance back at Carl. "I'll see you around, then."

"I'll stop in later," Carl tells me.

I catch up with Jesus, and he takes my hand as we walk down the street. I question, "Do you have to be back at the Hilltop today?"

"Do you want me to stay overnight?" Jesus returns, answering my question with a question.

"Can you?" He nods. "Thank you."

"You need someone," Jesus says as we turn onto my street. "Wait, when did you leave Rick's house?"

"After Aaron and I got back from the Hilltop," I answer. "Carl and I, we were fighting more. I was so stressed because Negan had Daryl, I was still working through everything that happened that night at the Hilltop. I just had to get out of there, and I did. Aaron and…" I trail off, unable to bring myself to say his name. "They told me there'd always be room for me with them, and Aaron had promised Daryl when we first came to Alexandria that he'd look out for me if anything ever happened." Jesus and I pause at the steps, and I turn to look at him. "I, uh, I was the first person in my group to trust Aaron. Everyone else doubted him."

"Maybe it's a good thing you did," Jesus remarks as he follows me up the stairs. "We wouldn't be standing here, having this conversation, if you didn't."

"I wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for a lot of things." Jesus stops in the doorway, leaning against the door after he closes it. I stop when I realize he's no longer following me, turning to look back at him. "Jesus?"

"Clary, are we… are we ever going to talk about that night?" Jesus questions, his voice thick with emotion. "If I hadn't gotten there when I did, would you have… would you…"

It takes me a long minute to answer, and when I finally do, I wish I never did. "Yes."

"Clary," Jesus says, his voice cracking in the middle of my name.

"You saw me that night," I sadly say, unable to meet his eyes. "I thought I had no one. I did, after. And now, I don't."

"Why are you always so keen on forgetting me?" Jesus questions.

I have to stop for a moment. Why do I always exclude Paul from my list of people? "Because… because it's hard to be there when you're with another community. When you're always out scavenging."

"I know," Jesus murmurs, not meeting my eyes. "I'll get better. I'll be there. I'll give you my word."

"Words fail, Paul," I say. "We tried to talk to Negan, we tried to make alliances with the Scavengers. It failed, all of it. And now, here we are. Losing our people. Rick hasn't been heard from in two days because his dumb ass is out there trying to make a deal with people that have already turned on us. Daryl and Aaron went off on their own. The Saviors killed my dad!"

My hands are shaking again. I'm shaking again. Jesus starts to take a step forward, reaching for my hands. I jerk them back, telling him, "Please don't touch me."

Jesus retracts his hands. "Okay," he says after a moment. "You tell me when."

I turn away from him, telling him, "Don't follow me."

I climb the stairs, entering my room and leaving the door open behind me. I know Jesus will be looking for me soon, anyway. I grab the pack of cigarettes I had stashed, hidden because Eric always yelled at me for smoking. My room faces the backyard, the wall in the distance. I open the window, climbing out on the roof that was built over the back porch. I dangle my leg over the edge, grabbing a cigarette from the pack. I let it dangle between my teeth as I search my pocket for my lighter, finding it when I feel the cool metal. I flip open my Zippo, smiling softly as I hear the familiar sound. I light the cigarette, taking a drag on it and glancing over my shoulder for Jesus. I hope he gives me enough time to finish my cigarette, as he's been giving me hell since he found out I smoked.

I tried to quit, you know. I really did. There's just certain things that I can't give up, I think as I glance in the direction of the Grimes house.

~Jesus~

"Don't follow me," Clary says, possibly the worst words I could hear from her. The words that strike fear into my heart. The last time we were alone and she went off on her own, she almost killed herself.

She leaves me alone in an unfamiliar place, and I can hear her footsteps as she climbs the stairs. I cross my arms, drumming my fingers as I try to decide if I should go after her or not.

I eventually can't stand it anymore and climb the stairs. I don't know which room is hers, but I see the door to a room on the left open. I step inside when I see Clary's bag by the bed, one of the windows open. I climb out it, only to find Clary standing on the edge of the roof. Her eyes are closed, her face expressionless.

I lunge forward, grabbing her arm and jerking her back. Grey eyes shoot open in surprise, and I quickly wrap my arms around her the moment I've pulled her back inside. I hold her close, the scent of leather filling my nose. The bitter smell of smoke clings to her, and I open my eyes as I look down at her, asking, "Were you smoking?"

"I had to," Clary replies.

"Clary."

"It's better than me getting shitfaced drunk or high off my ass."

"Those things'll kill you."

"I have other things to worry about, Paul."

"Like trying to jump off a roof before I find you?" I challenge. "God, Clary, what the hell were you thinking?!"

"I wasn't going to jump!" Clary exclaims. "Why does everyone think that I'm always gonna jump?"

"Because you have a death wish, Cheyenne," I return. "We never know what you're going to do. And we prepare for the worst… because you've tried to… you've tried to…" I'm getting choked up, unable to get any words out without crying. This girl is my best friend, one of my first friends since this all began. I can't lose her. I can't even stand to think about losing her. "You've tried to… you told me that you were going to…"

"I'm not, okay?" Clary tells me. "I won't kill myself. These four white walls may be keeping me trapped in this lonely little place called home, but I'm not as alone as I thought I once was. I'm staying alive because… because Eric made me promise. He made me promise that I'd stay alive for Aaron."

"And stay alive for me, too," I whisper, pressing my forehead against hers and closing my eyes. Clary wraps her hands around my wrists, rubbing her thumbs over the back of my hands. "Please, poppet. Stay alive."

"I will. This is the promise that I'll keep. The one that I'll always keep. For Aaron, for Eric, for you. For Daryl and for Carl." I open my eyes, displeased that the contact ended so quickly, when Clary pulls away. "I think you should get back to the Hilltop. The sun'll still be up when you get back to Hilltop."

"Where are you going?" I question.

"I'm gonna head over to Carl's, I think. We got some things to work out." Clary gets up , offering me her hand. "C'mon, I'll walk you out."

~Clary~

I walked Jesus to the gate, then watched him leave before I made my way to the Grimes house. That's all it was now, as Daryl and I had moved in with Aaron and Eric. Just Aaron now, I have to remind myself. I miss him so much.

I climb the familiar stairs, glancing at the house number as I pass it. 101, the second of the two houses given to my group when we first arrived. I raise my hand, knocking on the door. "Unless you're a Grimes or Dixon, go away," Carl calls, and I notice a catch in his voice.

"How about a Raleigh?" I question through the door, resting my head against the window. I take a step back when I hear footsteps quickly approaching, Carl pulling open the door. The very first thing that I notice is that his eye is red and watery. "Hey, what's going on?" I immediately ask. "Why are you crying? What happened?"

"Clary, when I told you…" Carl starts, then chokes on a sob. "When I told you I was okay, I, uh, I lied. There's something I need to show you."

"Carl, baby, you're scaring me," I tell him as he pulls me inside, closing the door behind us. "Tell me what happened."

"Do you remember the guy that we saw, the day before it all happened? The one that we tried to talk to, but my dad fired 'warning shots' at?"

"Yeah…"

"I found him again. His name's Siddiq. I'm not gonna tell you where he is. You have to promise me that you won't hurt him. It's not his fault."

"Carl?" I question, pulling my hands away from him. My heart starts beating faster, the fear flowing through my veins.

"Promise me," Carl pleads.

"Okay," I say after a moment. "I-I won't hurt him."

"Thank you," Carl sighs. "I needed you to know that it's not his fault."

"What the hell happened, Carl?" I question. By now, I'm so terrified that I'm shaking.

"Do you remember Jesse?"

"You know I remember Jesse."

"And Jim?"

"Carl, what are you getting at?" I whisper.

"Come here, please," Carl says softly, so softly that I feel myself stepping towards him before I can even process his words. He drops his hat to the ground, then pulls his shirt off and lets it fall beside his hat. His eye is overflowing with tears as he reaches towards the bandage on his right side, just a few inches above the scar from the bullet. Just a few inches above from where I poked earlier. "Clary?" he whispers.

Carl looks up, meeting my eyes as I stare in confusion, unable to comprehend anything. I can only whisper, "No."

"I love you so much," Carl whispers. "I never stopped. And I know you didn't, either. And I'll love you for the rest of my short life."

In one motion, he tears his gaze from mine and tears off the bandage.

~Carl~

I can't see her face. I can't do it.

I can't look at Clary as I show her the the wound that signed my death certificate. The wound that has me marked for a fate worse than death.

I can't look at Clary as she sees my bite.

"No," Clary sobs. "No, no, no! No!" She repeats the same word, getting louder until she's screaming it and crying all at once. "No, please! No!"

"I'm sorry," I say, pulling her into my arms after pressing the bandage back against the bite. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't want to go."

And then, she's wailing.

I've never seen a Dixon break, but let me tell you, it'll haunt you forever.

We both fall to the ground, and I hold Clary. She presses herself against my skin, clutching me, her nails scratching my back; but I don't care. This is one of the last times we're ever gonna be this close, be together. I'll let Clary do whatever the hell she wants. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with her, but she's going to spend the rest of hers without me.

AN: shoutout to my friend Flor for writing the song that inspired the title of this chapter, "Four White Walls." Also, I just realized that every chapter in this book, except for "Nothing to Lose," is either named after a song or the lyrics to that song.