Rick.

.

.

You're gone.

It's the first thing in my mind when I wake up.

That doesn't seem fair. Sleep is supposed to be peaceful, you'd think. The morning's that time when you don't remember anything at all, that period of blissful ignorance, a few moments of peace before the rest of the world catches up.

That's how it was with Lori, at least. It happened the first night I actually managed to get any sleep, though it was some time before I did, and every night after. In those first few moments of consciousness I always got the chance to forget. Like nothing had ever happened to us, not her death, not Shane, not even the fighting back when the word 'divorce' would have actually meant something. All those things that ruined us were just gone. Along with her, I guess. We didn't even touch those last few months, not really, but after it happened I started reaching out for her in bed again, if you can believe it. My dreams were my respite; they brought her back to me, blocked out this world, if just for a second.

But maybe I shouldn't compare you to her so much.

I'm sorry that I did. I still do and that's not fair. You were never a replacement for her and I hope you knew that.

But it is different. I can't forget what happened to you, even in my dreams, apparently. Last night it was Negan, he had you, tied and bound. He said you could come back to us, he was holding you ransom and making out like we was doing us a favour, but you had to beg for it and you wouldn't. I tried to yell, to run, I tried to beg for you, but nothing came out. You spat at his feet and said you'd rather die, and then your brains blew out.

If I'd woken up then I wouldn't have seen your bored-out skull splattered across the ground like a child's painting. But I guess my dreams ain't gonna be as kind as before.

There's no satisfaction in waking up to this world instead anyway. Negan died before you did, and I got a chance to say goodbye, I guess some might call that a better way to lose you, but it tastes like the same shit to me.

I reach out to your side of the bed and feel the sheets, like I did with Lori. I'm sure I get a whiff of your scent, but maybe I'm imagining it. Was it your side? I hoped so. We never talked about that, moving in together. I assumed we would have, eventually, but maybe you wouldn't have liked that. You always needed your space, more than anyone else I've known.

You let me get close, though. I think that meant something. Fuck. I'm sorry I'm still thinking about Lori. It wasn't like that, Daryl, I promise. We did mean something. It's just hard not to get déjà vu about this whole thing.

The group still needs me. Much as every part of my body is screaming no, it's not the time to fall apart. I need to live up to some of the trust you put in me. This is our family, Daryl, and I know that's how you thought of them. Maybe you didn't get around to thinking about Carl and Judith as our children, but its how it's been for me for a long time. I hope you don't mind me saying it now.

Judith is going to grow up and you won't see it. Oh, God, I can't even think about it yet.

But you're her father, Daryl, much as I am. I knew it with cold, hard certainty before, and not a thing about it has changed. Please believe that.

I wonder if you can hear my thoughts. Are you out there, somewhere? Maybe you're looking down on us all, from somewhere up above. Maybe you're boasting real angel wings this time, not just the sewn-on ones on your jacket. It's kind of funny to imagine, so I try to laugh. Don't quite manage it, but I swear I hear you snorting in my head.

Imagine it, Daryl. You'd be all wrapped in white robes and a halo, trying to act all serene like they do in the paintings. It wouldn't quite fit, and the imaginary-you in my head starts to look uncomfortable. Sad that it's too easy to remember you that way. Fuck is this, Rick, you say, I ain't no fuckin' fairy, and you swing at me, but the anger doesn't quite reach your eyes. Angels shouldn't swear, I tell you, and besides, that wasn't how it looked to me, but alright, Daryl, I'll stop. Teasing you isn't quite the same when you're dead.

It's time to get up, but I can't quite yet. I know my responsibilities, but surely it wouldn't hurt to stay and fantacise a little longer?

There's a meeting today and it's early. We're going to talk about the Sanctuary, put together a plan to destroy them, before they do the same to us. To people other that myself, anyway. They've already destroyed me.

I'm scared, Daryl. They have more people than we do. I know we've beaten odds like that before, but we've lost so much at the same time. So little of our family is left. We keep running into these kinds of people, again and again and again. And every time, people die. At a certain point resisting the inevitable has gotta stop being worth it, right?

No, you don't think that, silly to even ask. You'd rather die free than live in a cage.

Kinda why we're here.

I'm not angry at you Daryl. I don't know how much time I have left and I wouldn't waste it on something as petty as that. But I wish you hadn't done it. Just for once, I wish you'd kept your head down and listened to orders. Whatever opportunity to escape it was that you saw, you should have just ignored it. I know being trapped was your worst nightmare, but I would have you right back in that cell for however many months it needed, if I could. I'd have traded your freedom for your life in a heartbeat. Please don't hate me for it.

Now so many people have put their lives in my hands. It's not like it's the first time, but I don't know what to do with it anymore. If I would make that choice for you Daryl, and make it wrong, how can I do it for other people? I'm the one who shot Negan. Don't get me wrong, I'd do it a thousand times over, but it was my choice. It was my lover dying outside the gates that started this. Everything we've done until now has been self-defence, how can I ask people to die for a war I started?

Don' matter who started it, Rick, it's self-defence now. The Saviours ain't gon' accept any terms from Alexandria anymore.

How can you know that? I mean, how much control did Negan have over them? What if they didn't even want to fight in the first place?

Bastard's made their choice. It sucks, but this shit's a war now. They ain't gon' hesitate, so you can't go second-guessing crap anymore either. 'S how you end up dead.

This all made you so ruthless, Daryl.

The meeting is out on the street. Suppose with the future of the entire settlement at stake, it's only fair to have it in the open. Still, it's a lot of eyes on us. I'd feel better if you were here. I never realised quite how much I'd come to rely on your support, until it was gone.

Maggie's here. It's her first time back to Alexandria since Glenn's death. It's surprised the hell of out a lot of people, but only the ones who don't know her well. She can't let herself stay away from this any more than I can. Clear on her face she's coping like weathered steel. A hawk-eyed stare and a hardened jaw, just daring anyone to suggest she shouldn't be here. But there's tiredness in her eyes too, it betrays tears and sleepless nights. She's struggling. Like me.

It's something we'll talk about eventually. Away from prying eyes.

People offer me condolences, then back away. They don't seem to know what else to say. Can't say I blame them either, not like there's anything I want to hear. Everyone knows you and I were close, no one quite seems sure how close. Don't think I knew myself.

I feel like I see criticism in some of their eyes. Don't know if I'm imagining it, but I'm wary of the ones who never really knew you. They know the events of yesterday sparked a war, but they have no idea why. No idea what we lost. I wonder if they resent me, if they think it would have been better to leave you in the middle of the street, to die all alone. Maybe they suspect we could have made a new peace with Negan, if only I hadn't shot him.

I might be facing a mutiny, Daryl. Hell.

There's a few that mean something, though. Tara, Jesus, Sasha. Folks that loved you. Michonne's been hit nearly as hard as I have.

Did you know, Daryl? It was her. She put you to rest when I couldn't. Slid the knife right in once she knew it had to be her, no hesitation, like you'd have wanted.

I'm so sorry I couldn't. It should have been me, after everything I surely owed you that much. But I'm a coward after all. You'd call me a fucking idiot and God, I was, but holding your body in my arms and praying for a goddamn miracle I just couldn't bring myself to hurt a hair on your head. If you'd turned fast enough I might have just let you go, out into the wilderness somewhere. Even knowing what happened to Morgan, I might have just let you go. That's how deranged I was. You'd have never forgiven me for that, and I couldn't have forgiven myself. What if you'd bit Carl? What if you found your way back to Alexandria and bit one of our children because I had let you go, Daryl?

Maybe this meeting is a bad idea. I'm going to be sick.

"You have the support of the Hilltop." Jesus confirms. Apparently it's too late, we've already started. I close my eyes and try to drive away the nausea in my stomach.

"Isn't that Gregory's decision?" Michonne inquires. "Where is he anyway?"

Jesus shakes his head. "Doesn't know about this meeting." He raises a hand before anyone could interrupt. "Believe me, that's for the best. His command is precarious at best, we can get the people onside."

Maggie nods curtly. "Far as his people are concerned, we speak for the Hilltop now."

Michonne pauses for a second, as if satisfying herself of the truth in their words, before continuing. "Alright, I doubt it'll be enough though, unless the Saviors are fragmenting on their own. We'll need Ezekiel and the Kingdom with us too."

No one says anything. I wonder if it means people don't trust Ezekiel. If that's yet another obstacle in our way. It's only when I look up and me everyone's gaze that I realise the silence is for me. I'm the leader. I'm supposed to make some kind of decision.

"I, um," I cough. Try to focus my thoughts. Ezekiel, the Kingdom. They haven't had their arms confiscated like us, not yet. We'll need that kind of firepower. "Yeah, that's a good idea. We should send a couple of people, see if he can send over some ammunition."

There was a different silence this time, more uncertain. Michonne shakes her head, "We'll need more than ammunition, Rick. We need his people."

I can't.

His people aren't involved in this. They never even knew Daryl.

"What, and risk getting them killed in this? No way." I brought this on us. It's my fault, I may have brought Alexandria into it, but I can't let others die in my crusade for revenge.

"They're in this as deep as we are," she shrugged. "They pay the same tributes we do. Their interest as much as ours to be free."

"Yeah, but none of them have died yet. And it should stay that way." I struggle to stop a trace of hysteria entering my voice. This isn't a game.

"They will," Maggie states matter-of-factly, her piercing stare challenging me to disagree. "Whether they fight or not. Saviours ain't interested in playing happy families. We all risk death, Rick, every day. That's what this life is."

She's right, Rick. You know that.

Shut up. You're not here. You don't get to tell me things like that anymore.

I meet her gaze for a few seconds, but I can't hold it. She scares me. In that moment I truly realise how strong she really is. How she's holding it all together so much better than me.

I look away and and instead look around the table. There's an array of faces clearly in support of Maggie and recruiting the Kingdom. Closing my eyes and pressing my knuckles to my temple, I eventually nod. "Alright, alright. Let's assume we get them on board, and they're actually crazy enough to help us. What then?" He asked.

Michonne, Jesus and Maggie immediately break into tactical discussions. There's a coherence and understanding between them that tells me they've already talked about this before now. Makes sense, I guess, Michonne was the one who travelled to Hilltop with the news, the three of them came back here together and spent the morning together. Only logical they should use all the time they have to start planning. Common sense, even. But I can't help but be irritated. I've been left out even though it's my place to co-ordinate this stuff, I should be the one hearing out ideas and making decisions.

Of course, it's hypocritical to be annoyed. Not like I've exactly been taking control. Even now, I'm struggling to keep up with the details. My eyes hurt and my head is absolutely throbbing from lack of sleep. I can't help but watch weakly as the conversation drifts from one topic to another, everyone else so focused, so determined. I'm trying to discern the key points best I can, but my mind keeps refocusing to this same irritation I just can't shake. How could they leave me out of it?

C'mon, Rick. You know you ain't angry at them for that.

Christ, is this how it's gonna be from now on, Daryl? I had to see Lori's ghost everywhere, now you're the voice in my head?

You're right, though, I guess. I'm not angry at that.

I guess I'm just annoyed that you're dead and the world keeps turning like you ain't. It kills me that people are finding time to think about anything else.

Far as I can tell, the plan is nothing short of a full-frontal assault. Deploying everyone at once, in a unilateral attack on every Savior base simultaneously. Recruiting every adult physically able to hold a gun. Risking it all, to win it all.

"No." I interrupt. And for the first time in a long time, the feeling of everyone's eyes on me frightens me. "No. This plan's too dangerous. We risk losing every single settlement we have."

"Rick we need to fight – "

"I know," I hear the aggression in my voice and flinch. It surprises even me. I take a breath to calm down, "I know we do... but what if it goes wrong? What if they figure out we're coming, and set up some kind of barricade, talk out half of us before we even get close to the gates? Who's going to protect everyone at home once they mow us down?"

I'm playing it cautious. That's not me and they don't understand why I'm doing it. Michonne replies gently, "They'll know we're coming Rick, we can't avoid that, but the more time we give them the better the chance they have to rebuild, chose a new leader, organize a defence. Best to go in quick with everything, end this before anything else happens."

The words "anything else" hurt more than they have any right to. I'm caught between not being able to imagine anything else causing worse pain than what I'm already going though, and knowing, knowing that losing either of my children would somehow be anyway. But that's why we can't take risks like this. "They have the superior numbers, superior supplies. We'll never win a war like this!"

Shouldn't say shit like that, Rick.

I know, I know it hurts morale, but whatever, it's too fucking dangerous!

"Do you have another plan, Rick?"

My throat closes up. Running my hands through my hair, I stare at the meticulously drawn map in front of me (who made it, Tara?) and try desperately to think of any other way we can do this. There must be some way that wouldn't lead to any more bloodshed. Some way to ensure we all stay safe.

Maggie doesn't wait long enough for me to respond. She gazes at me with something, I can't tell if it's empathy or pity, and addresses the entirety of the group. "It's true, they have more people and guns than we do. But that doesn't mean we can't win. We've only got as far as we have because we are stronger than anyone else we've ever met. You all saw what Rick did yesterday, outside the gate. You all saw how one man downed more than five Saviors with a single pistol, including Negan himself. That's what we are. We will show them what we are."

If Maggie's reference to my actions outside the gate is supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't have the intended effect. It wasn't enough, was it? Yes, I killed more Saviors than should have been humanly possible, but it still hadn't been enough. What good has it actually done, in the end? Negan is dead, but I still couldn't save you and that's the only reason I did it.

And now I've started a war that will doubtless kill many more.

I'm so sorry, Daryl.

I can't be here. "I need to go," I mutter. Head splitting, and unable to take it a moment longer, I stand up and leave unceremoniously. I worry it'll hold up the meeting, but the group is so wrapped up in the fervour of planning the attack I'm not even sure they notice.

I manage to get all the way back to my house before Maggie catches up to me.

"Rick!"

I wedge the door open with my foot and rub my eyes. She's going to want to talk and I'm just not ready. "I'm alright, Maggie. I just didn't sleep well, figure I'm going to need some more shut-eye before we start doing this."

I try to move inside, but her hand is on my arm, holding me back. "Don't shut me out, Rick. Please."

Truth be told, that was exactly what I intended to do, and anyone else I might have shrugged off and told to mind their own business. But this was Maggie. She knows my grief, and so much more on top of it. I suddenly feel quite selfish for considering pushing her away. I was never married to Daryl, I'm not carrying his child. Hell, I don't even know if Daryl really returned my feelings. We never got to be like her and Glenn, how could I ever imagine what she has been through?

I meet her gaze, and hold it this time. I let the door close.

She bites her lip and stares at me. She looks uncertain for the first time in a while, and I realise that she keeps it hidden from the rest of the group. "I miss him too," she says, not feeling the need to clarify who. "We all do. He was a good man, more than that. He was family. We all loved him."

She gently strokes my arm. It's the first time anyone has touched me since you, and it strikes me that it might have been considered a romantic gesture in any other context. It feels nothing other than comforting now. "Neither of them deserved what happened." Her words are similar to others I've heard today, but there's an understanding behind them that's new.

I nod, half expecting there to be a 'but.' But they're gone now. But you need to keep it together. We need you to lead us. This isn't the time for moping around.

It doesn't come though. Her hand just rests there. Letting there be this connection between us. Grief flowing from one soul to another. I cover it with my own and look at her.

How does she do that? How does she stay so strong? It was plain as day that she and Glenn had loved each other as much as two people ever could. I saw the anguish on her face when it happened, something resembling that same screaming agony I feel all the time now. I know it must be tearing her up inside, because there's no way you can go through that and just have it not. But she doesn't show it. She's ironclad, immovable, sublime. I see in her everything I should be but am not.

Eventually I break the silence myself. "I'm trying to pull it together, Maggie. I am. We're going to war and I know you all need me here and present for what's coming." I gently place her hand back down by her side. "I'm not abandoning you."

Her expression seems strained, like it wasn't the answer she was looking for, or perhaps she didn't believe me. "Rick..."

"He was important to me." I choke out, not quite able to say his name out loud yet. I loved him. "I cared a lot about him, and I won't pretend like this isn't hitting me hard. But I know the rest of us are still alive. I still have my son to think about. I won't let you down – "

"Rick," Maggie insists, her eyes pleading for me to stop. Once I do, she shifts uncomfortably, like she's struggling with what she wants to say. "I don't... we don't think you should lead us. Not right now."

Lost for words, I just stare at her.

Once she seems confident the words have sunk in and I'm not going to lash out at her, she folds her arms and speaks more firmly. "Look Rick, I'm one of the only people who remembers what you were like at the prison, after...well, after the last time this happened." She avoids Lori's name and I guess I'm grateful for that. "Look at you! Your eyes are bloodshot and your hands are shaking, everyone back there saw it. You're not ready for this, you're still grieving."

"And you're not?" I'm instantly horrified by myself. I have no idea where that came from. "Shit Maggie, I'm sorry..."

Somehow, bafflingly, she just lets the remark roll off her with that same flawless composure. "You know I am. But you and I grieve differently, Rick. You need to process it, you need to work out what it means for you before you can focus on anything else. I'm different, I need to keep busy, bury it. I need to deny the pain like hell as long as I can. I won't pretend it's any more healthy than what you do, but we ain't exactly got shrinks to judge that stuff anymore." She gives a small smile at the last part. "The point is I need to fight right now. You need to mourn."

"You think I don't want to fight?" I say, bitterly. She's entirely right, of course, but I can't let it lie just yet. I take a step towards her and gesture angrily. "You think I don't want to make them pay? They murdered him! They killed – " my voice falters, and I want to cry at how hard it is to just say his name. "They killed Daryl."

And at that I break, as if just by saying I killed him all over again. I can feel the heat rising to my face and moisture collecting at the corner of my eyes.

Maggie's eyes fill with that same emotion from the meeting, except this time it's obvious it's not pity. I wonder how I could have ever thought it was. "I know you do. And we will need you fighting, just like we need every other able body we've got. But let us lead on this one. You've given up everything to keep this group alive. Let us decide how best to handle it. And I promise, once we get into the Savior camp we'll avenge Daryl and Glenn together. All of us. We'll kill every one of the bastards."

I fall back against the closed door, a little ashamed of myself. I wish I had the strength to argue with Maggie, to insist that I'm fine to protect this place. But she's right, isn't she? I'm not ready. I can't even keep up in a simple meeting, they'd all die under my leadership.

I climb up to the bedroom. I'm not really sure why I think I'll be able to sleep any better than I did last night, but I guess I can't face up to much else right now.

We only shared this room a few times. Don't really make sense that it should feel empty now, but it does.

God, when did you become such an integral part of my life? It's barely been any time at all since we first kissed, first confessed feeling something other than plain companionship for one another. But we were something long before that, weren't we? Since we met there's barely been a day when you haven't been at my side.

That had been so long ago, they'd all been so naive back then. No one had any idea what it took to survive in this world. They had Shane, a qualified instructor, for God's sake, and they'd actually hesitated about training the whole group to hold a firearm. Some sentimental part of them still clinging to the old rules of society. There was this idea, so absolutely ridiculous in hindsight, that it was still somehow obscene for a civilian to have a gun. That they could survive without it.

In't that what you're trying to do now Rick? Avoid the fight? You know we can't live like that no more.

Easy for you to say, Daryl. We all needed time to learn, even the cops. Everyone except you. I remember the way you'd been birthed from the woods, bitching about the walker who'd stolen your deer, in the same way normal people might about a neighbour swiping their newspaper. You'd prowled around the carcass like a hungry lion, lashing out at Dale and anyone else who came close. You scared me, Daryl. So much that I forgot for a moment I actually had something to tell you.

And hadn't that gone well. In a better world we might have met fishing by a cobalt lake, or bumped knees in some backwater bar. Of course, more likely we wouldn't have met at all, except maybe under the accusatory glow of blue flashing lights. But as it was, in this world, we met with that awful confession about what I'd done to your brother, you brandishing six inches of steel and lashing out with all the aggression of a cornered beast.

I thought about killing you back then. Maybe that would surprise you, but I don't think so. Back then you thought I'd left Merle for dead, so I'm sure it occurred to you I'd do it again.

I wouldn't have outright, wouldn't have murdered anyone, not back then, but if the situation had merited it, I might have let it happen. You were obviously dangerous, you emanated the same breeding as Merle and I thought you might threaten the group the same way he did. Perhaps, I thought, it would have been easier to just see the end of both of you. It was funny now, to think that in those early days I'd slept in fear of you slitting my throat while Shane slept not ten feet away.

Except it's not really funny, Daryl. That was my mistake, and I was so, so wrong to make it. You've been treated that way your whole life. I took away the only family you had and the first thing I did was treat you with the same damn prejudice everyone else did. I'm not sure I ever apologised for that. Maybe you didn't want to hear it, maybe that would too awkward or emotional for you, but I should have anyway. I had so many opportunities. Every time I felt your hand on my shoulder or saw you cradling our daughter, I should have told you how sorry I am.

Fuck, I don't know. Maybe I should have done worse. Threatened you right from the start, driven you far away. You would have been okay on your own, Daryl. Might have even found Merle before the Governor did what he did to him. It was my recklessness and arrogance that got you captured. The same thing that's leading us into war now. You didn't die because you were too slow, or stupid, or weak. You died because of us, because you couldn't just kneel while we were being taunted and murdered, and wouldn't use your freedom to go anywhere but home. How many times now have you been beaten and tortured for the group? None of it would have happened I hadn't let you in in the first place. You'd be safe. The thought of never knowing you kills me, but I guess I wouldn't have even known what I was missing.

God, you'd be safe.