This Sorrowful Life

by BeneathThisMask

A sequel to "This Cruel Reality". The group is faced with a threat unlike any they've ever encountered before. A combination of the hanging threat of starvation, as well as a dangerous new group, threatens to destroy the new life they've worked so hard to build for each other. Now, with the help of some unlikely allies, Tanner must protect his new family or risk losing them all.

19. The Winter War Commences!

The first snow of winter falls that day.

With it comes a freezing chill in the air, rendering fallen leaves crisp, and the grass under our feat bejeweled with frost.

The combined forces of Alexandria, Hilltop, an the Kingdom - mainly consisting of men and women who volunteered to protect their homes - have assembled on a hilltop with a clear overview of the crumbling metropolis of Washington D.C. The Sanctuary where Negan and his Saviors call home is only a few miles from here and Rick decided to get us all together to go over our plan of action one final time. There is palpable tension in the frigid air as Rick bellows out the plan. Carl and I don't listen, however. We've heard Rick say this over and over again, so we step outside the group and linger near the edge of the hill, gazing out at the desolate ruins of Washington in deep thought. Howling wind races through the hillside, biting at any skin left exposed by clothing that lacks full protection against it. Three years ago, on our way to Alexandria for the first time, Carl and I had stood in a similar spot overlooking the city. I can remember just how much fear and turmoil I felt when I first saw the city's defiled ruins spread out before me, reminiscing to a time when I'd seen the city as a vibrant hub of life, back before the plague reduced the human race to a handful. Now I could only stand and stare at the shell of the former capital of the United States with pitiful indifference.

Forefront on my mind is memories of when Negan took me captive. I remember the route he used to bring me to his factory and so retracing those steps is bringing a particularly bad taste to my mouth. Next to me, Carl is expressionless, likely thinking along the same lines as I am. Unlike me, however, he's had combat experience. I wonder if he feels the same well of anxiety within him that I do. Whatever the case, I must have allowed my gaze to linger on him for a little bit too long, because he notices my stare and quickly turns to address me.

"You okay?"

Even Carl's voice is indifferent. I know he's genuinely concerned about me, but mentally preparing himself for the battle to come has brought out a colder side of his personality that I haven't seen in quite some time. I take a moment to assess his demeanor, then glance down at my feet, sighing with a visible cloud of hot breath spraying into the cold air in front of me.

"I'll be fine." I lie.

Truth is I won't be fine until Negan is dead and Carl and I can sleep peacefully knowing he won't be able to hurt our family and friends ever again.

"Are you holding up okay?" I turn the question back on him.

I hope that by doing so, Carl won't catch my lie, but he knows me better than that. Not to mention, I should know by now that I suck at lying. I especially suck at lying to Carl. The instant I ask the question, I see his remaining eye narrow contemplatively at me. For an instant, Carl looks like a hardened solider. His jacket is in tatters from overuse, bandages wrapped tightly around his lost eye, and faded sheriff's hat clinging tightly to his still rather small head. He's grown so much from the fifteen year old boy I met in that neighborhood all those years ago. Not just physically either. Mentally and emotionally, Carl is a much more mature person now than he was then. Just these comparisons alone cause a soft smile to tug its way across my face.

"Sorry," I suddenly blurt out before he can respond. "I shouldn't lie to you. I'm... nervous. Very nervous."

Carl gives me an inquisitive stare, as if somehow confused by my sudden change of heart, but then allows himself to smile gently as well.

"Yeah," he replies at last. "Me too."

The inflection in his voice splinters my heart. I can hear the turmoil festering inside of him. It would be subtle enough, to anyone who doesn't know Carl as intimately as I do, that no one outside of myself would pick it up. However, just like he can with me, I know Carl too well to not pick up on his subtle signals of distress. Being his romantic companion in life, I cannot help the overwhelming urge to comfort Carl, and so, acting on that instinct, I cross the short distance between us and wrap him in a tight hug. He responds in kind, leaning into me, which allows me to support his full weight: a small, almost subconscious act of trust that always reminds me that, no matter how full of angst Carl can sometimes be, he trusts me enough to hold his limp form in my arms without allowing any harm to come to him. In the distance, I can still hear Rick talking to the others. That's fine with me. Even though I know we cannot delay the fight against the Saviors, I silently wish to myself that Rick would continue talking all day, so that I can simply continue to hold on to Carl and ease his growing fear.

"You don't have to be worried." Carl eventually mumbles into my chest. "Whatever happens will happen."

I fight to contain a snort of laughter.

"That doesn't exactly ease my fears, Carl." I reply with a smirk. At least he tried. "I'm honored to fight alongside you again. I just..."

"Go on." he encourages me. "Spit it out. You just, what?"

I sigh.

Carl is relentless whenever he suspects I may be holding something back. No point in shrugging this one off.

"I just fear losing the best thing to ever happen to me."

Wow, Tanner... I think to myself. Could you sound anymore cheesy?

Cheesy though it may be, however, it is the honest truth. I wish I could have the same demeanor Carl does going into situations like this. That whatever happens will happen. Its not who I am, though. I am, by nature, someone who wants to prevent loss: especially of something as precious to me as Carl is. For him there is no replacement. He is a one-of-a-kind diamond and I refuse to give him up to some food-snatching murderer like Negan. Luckily for me, Carl is used to my cheesy means of conveying my feelings, and is actually somewhat receptive of them. In this instance, he takes a gambit of being seen by his father and the others, standing just a few feet away from us, leaning up to press several small, but lingering, kisses along the base of my neck.

"You won't." he tries to assure me.

I wish it were that simple.

That with two words he could promise me that nothing would happen to him and it'd be so. We both know, however, that life doesn't work quote that easily. That doesn't stop me from increasing the strength of the hug he's enveloped in and pressing a kiss of my own into his forehead, just underneath the hem of his hat.

"We'd better get back." I remark after another moment. "Your dad will be wanting to pull out again any moment."

With a longing sigh, Carl nods in agreement.

At last we break our embrace, something I immediately regret, and I begin to walk back towards where we'd left our group. It takes me only a split moment to realize that Carl is hanging back, watching as I depart. I stop on a dime and turn myself to shoot him an inquisitive glance, wondering what the hold up is. Carl stares blankly back at me for several seconds before his facial expression softens and he addresses me:

"Tanner?"

"Yes?" I inquire, curious as to why his demeanor suddenly changed.

"I love you." he recites the three words I've come to love most in this world.

Warmth rushes from inside my chest and I cannot contain the toothy smile that bursts from a once stoic face. As it turns out, I'm not the only one who knows which buttons to push when the situation calls for it. Carl is quite the master himself. And so, locking the feeling of love and adoration I have for him deep within my heart, to use as fuel and strength for the coming battle, I respond to him, as I always have, with the same words he's heard over and over again, but which have never lost their meaning:

"I love you too, Carl."

####

My stomach is churning.

The sight of the Savior's factory is anything but pleasant. It hasn't changed in the slightest, even despite the herd moving through, since I was last here. The outside perimeter is still caked with walkers, which lurch hungrily, yet in vain against the chains that hold them in place. Anticipation hangs in the air like a dense fog, encircling and gripping each and every person assembled for the Savior's base. For some, this is the moment they've been waiting for. The moment to finally put an end to the monsters that have kept them all trapped in a world of fear and death. For others, however, this is their worst nightmare. For them, the factory before us is the gates of Hell itself, and inside lurks Satan and his fallen angels. Rick wastes no time in alerting Negan to our presence. If we wait any longer, the Saviors could spot us first and attack, leaving us blind-sighted. Raising his gun to the grey winter sky, Rick fires a single shot, which echoes loudly in my head, shattering the silence around us. Tension mounts as the survivors around me prepare for the battle to come. Next to me, Michonne tightens her grip on her katana, eyes focused solely on the factory before us, like a predator watching its prey.

Carl is similarly serious, gun ready to take the first shots, only he humors me with one last nod of acknowledgement. A subtle way of letting me know he's ready, but that he's here for me.

I'm glad he is.

I'm not sure I could do this without him.

"Negan!" Rick barks, voice echoing into the barren woods around us. "Show yourself!"

It doesn't take long for the monster to show himself.

Appearing at one of the balcony windows, the imposing form of Negan looms like doom over the survivors that have come to see to his end personally. The leader of the Saviors, to my slight shock, doesn't seem in the least bit surprised by the massive number of armed survivors at his gates. If anything, Negan appears flustered and annoyed, which doesn't give me any hopeful vibes. Had he been expecting us to rise up and fight back? The nefarious gangster mutters an expletive under his breath, clearly not pleased with the sight before him.

"What the fuck is this, Rick?!" he finally calls back. "Are you tryin' to play 'My Dick is Bigger than Your Dick'? Because I assure you... it isn't."

"This isn't that at all!" Rick barks back, his tone is ever defiant. "We stand before you - three communities united - to send you a message, loud and clear. Enough! We're done giving you our supplies. We will no longer bow to your will and let you kill our people! Those days are over!I'll give you one chance to surrender and walk away from this without bloodshed. Don't mistake this for mercy. I know you have women and others in there. People who aren't part of your Saviors. If anything, I wish to spare them completely!"

I know this is a ruse.

There is no way Negan will accept peace and Rick knows it too. The conversation taking place now is nothing more than a formality before the bloodshed.

"And what of the others, eh, Rick?" Negan retorts defiantly. "What of the fuckin' killers?"

"You kill," Rick declares. "You die."

There is a brief, but ever so tense pause between the two leaders, followed by Negan breaking into a loud, booming laugh.

"Let me get this fuckin' straight." he barks. "I surrender myself and my men, you fuckers put us all to death, but the women get to live on peacefully with you? You honestly fucking think we're going to go with that, Rick? What happens if I refuse?"

Rick doesn't back down for even a moment.

"Everyone you see out here busts in there and then what happens can be left to your imagination." the senior Grimes replies coldly. "And I can promise you it won't be pretty."

Negan's laughter resumes, this time more hearty, causing the blood in my veins to boil. He isn't even taking Rick seriously. Negan is the height of arrogance. The likes of which, I've never seen.

"You fuckers have actually convinced yourself that your group of misfits, fags," that one stings. "Lawyers, accountants, and farmers is going to be able to smash through these walls and kill us? Accomplish anything?! That's fucking rich! I'm half tempted to let your half-assed little plan play out... to show you just how goddamn stupid it is, but where'd be the fucking fun in that? No, no, no. Surrender just isn't a motherfucking option. But, then again, rubbing our collective genitals together on the battlefield really isn't either, now is it?"

Like the rest of us, Rick expected this response.

Negan is so enraptured in his own arrogant rebuttal, that he fails to notice Jesus and Ezekiel approach Rick from either side. Carl and I are standing close enough to Rick that I can hear their suppressed voices, even despite Negan's loud bellowing.

"Get ready." he tells them. "He's doing exactly as we predicted."

"I have a different plan." Negan continues oblivious. "I'll give all of you sons of bitches one chance to defect to my side! Those that don't, we'll fucking slaughter, with the rest of the traitorous bastards! C'mon, you fucks! You have one chance and I ain't a patient man!"

Now that one I didn't expect.

Negan doesn't strike me as the type to accept defectors, but then again, the man is hardly predictable. I quickly glance around at the rest of my fellow survivors, looking to anyone for a response to Negan's offer. Our side is completely still. No one so much as flinches the wrong way. If that doesn't send a clear message to the villain, nothing will. No one will be joining him this day. He's caused too much pain and death.

Today is the day all of that ends.

I expect that to be the end of the talking. Its quite clear that nothing more can be said to convince the other side. Only bloodshed and violence can accomplish that now, sad as it is for me to admit that. But Negan isn't done targeting our crowd, which is why I'm surprised when the devilish man locks gazes with me, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand completely on end. Next to me, Carl seems to notice the shift in the moods between the two of us, and tenses in response. Whether a defensive mechanism, for my sake, or a natural reaction to such an evil man directing his attention towards me, I can't quite determine.

"What about you, Tanner?" the crime lord barks down at me. "You really willing to throw that little queer of a boyfriend away over a fucking war you can never hope to win?!"

His sudden interest in me is chilling.

Now he's made it personal between us. Not that it ever wasn't. I suddenly feel all eyes on me, and, for the first time, I feel no embarrassment: only heightened anger.

"Don't ever call Carl a 'queer' in front of me again!" I snap back in response, loud enough to echo over the distance between us. "There's no way I'd ever join the prick responsible for the deaths of two of my friends. Least of all the one who's men nearly killed my spouse. You're going down, Negan! I'll fucking make sure of it!"

With that out, there is certainly nothing more to say.

The decision has been made.

All that remains is for someone to fire the first shot and the anticipation is killing me. Above us, Negan angrily shakes his head. I'm surprised he actually expected that ploy to work. Next to me, Carl uses his free arm to lightly rub the crook of my back, a wordless means of support and approval for the words I just spoke on his behalf. For the second time that day, I am eternally grateful that he is next to me here. His small gesture of affection in the face of overwhelming brutality is heartwarming and soul-lifting.

"Well then, Rick," Negan cries out angrily. "I've considered your kind offer and I think that the answer is somewhere in between 'no motherfucking way' and 'go fucking fuck yourself.' Boys! Kill them all!"

The first shot rings out.

An explosion of blood in front of me tells me that it certainly didn't come from our side. Snipers! The man, a resident of the Hilltop, drops dead instantly, and the battle officially commences. The combined forces of Alexandria, Hilltop, and the Kingdom scatter as gunshots begin to ring out in the courtyard, seeking refuge behind the bus we had used to get us here, as well as the trees which surround the entirety of the perimeter. There is a loud metallic PING as shots ricochet of the metal hull of the bus and into the snow clustering on the ground at our feet. In the flurry of movement, Carl and I are separated from Rick, who seems to have darted off in the direction of the woods. Adrenaline takes over, my heart racing, lungs speeding up their respiration. Next to me, Carl peeks around the corner of the bus and fires two clean shots into the chest of an emerging Savior.

That's my Carl.

"Watch the windows for snipers!" I call out to him over the gunfire.

In the distance, I can make out Daryl, hidden behind a larger tree stump, picking off Saviors with his crossbow. I have to give it to the redneck, he is closer to the action than the rest of us, and is doing a damn fine job of it too. Somewhere behind me I hear the distinctive voice of Ezekiel bark out for his men to focus "up top". Sure enough, some of Negan's snipers start dropping off the side of the building like flies as gunfire redirects itself to his sharpshooters. That isn't to say that we were winning. Our causalities were just as horrific, if not worse. Negan's people are certainly no amateurs and that shows in their superior gunfighting tactics. But that isn't even the worst of it. The sudden explosion of noise has caused the chained up walkers around Negan's home to go absolutely ballistic. Snarling with renewed hunger, the undead pull relentlessly at their restraints, ferociously fighting to get free and join in the bloodbath.

That's when an idea hits me.

"Everyone!" I shout out loudly. "Aim for the chains holding the walkers back!"

"Are you crazy?!" the ever familiar voice of Glenn shouts out from beside me, against the bus. "They'll turn on us too!"

"At first, yes!" I shout back over earsplitting gunfire. "But we'll use that to our advantage! Get their gore all over you and they'll think of us as fellow walkers!"

I admit, its a bit of a risky plan, but one that can easily turn the tide of this fight.

I remember how the walkers reacted when Michonne and I once chained them up and used them as a deterrent. Carl had also once informed me that getting their guts on you acts as camouflage. If that is true, then the walkers won't attack us, only the Saviors. Furthermore, it will get rid of the undead defenses around the Saviors's base, allowing us safer access when it finally comes time to storm the place.

"Pass it around!" I command to him. "Its our best shot!"

Without waiting on Glenn, I immediately turn to Carl to seek his approval.

My love merely nods his response and wastes no time turning his aim on the walkers' chains. To make things better, my suggestion spreads through the fighters like a wildfire, and before long, shots are raining down on the walker infested fences of the Saviors' factory. Metal clanks loudly as chains and other restraints on the noisy cadavers are violently torn off, allowing the mutilated corpses freedom at last. It doesn't take long for the monsters to do what they've done for the past five years. All of the sudden, the battlefield is turned into a feeding frenzy. Walkers swarm the area, searching out any and all fresh sources of flesh. Our side immediately has our solution underway, while the Saviors scramble to avoid the horde of undead cadavers gnashing at them to satisfy their unquenchable hunger.

"Mich!" I shout out to Michonne, who is hunkered down not too far from Carl and I.

This is the moment the two of us have been waiting for.

Michonne and I are short range fighters. With our swords, it is impractical for us to do anything other than take cover while the Saviors have such heavy fire power. That advantage, however, is no longer there's. With the walkers now loose, gunfire is directed at them, allowing Michonne and I the ability to join the fray on the front lines. I immediately train my sights on a nearby walker, delivering a powerful horizontal slash to its abdomen, spraying decaying blood and guts onto me. The gunk is warm and revolting to smell, but five years of dealing with walkers and I'm used to it. Michonne follows my lead, gutting another nearby corpse in order to douse herself in the gory substance. Firing two shots at approaching walkers, Carl comes to my side and, without hesitation, dips his hands into the fallen corpse I slew, covering himself in walker entrails and blood. With this, we're immune to the walkers and can focus on killing Saviors.

"You seen Dad?!" Carl shouts out, aiming another shot towards a Savior trying to escape a pair of female cadavers.

"No!" I reply. "Not yet!"

I haven't seen Rick Grimes since the shooting started.

I presume he's with the others fighting in the trees.

Fleeing from another cluster of walkers, a Savior accidentally stumbles into us, forcing me to act on instinct and carve a slash through his upper torso and into his neck. The man staggers back in shock, allowing the walkers to seize him and sink their decaying teeth into his flesh. The man releases a blood-gurgling scream, thanks to his wounds, and is promptly dragged down by the corpses who then proceed to devour him on site. Suddenly, from behind, I'm struck in the back by an extremely hard, blunt object, knocking me off my balance and sending me hard into the freezing cold earth below.

"Tanner!?" I hear Carl cry out from somewhere.

I see the source instantly.

My attacker is a larger Hispanic Savior, wearing a large, tattered, leather biker's jacket and torn jeans. The man is holding some manner of pipe in his hands, which I assume to be the weapon the struck me. My back throbs with immense pain, but I don't think anything is broken. Carl raises his gun to shoot, however, two more Saviors show themselves, forcing him to shoot at them rather than my attacker. The lumbering Savior raises his pipe to me again, swinging down hard in an attempt to crack my skull wide open. Luckily for me, despite my pain, my reflexes are still better than ever, and I am able to parry his blow with blinding speed, holding the pipe at arm's length. The Savior doesn't give up there, however, much to my dismay. Instead, the lumbering oaf pushes down against my sword, driving it closer and closer to my chest, hoping to disarm me and kill me with the opening.

He never gets the chance.

A heart-stopping roar beside me, like a great dragon descending from above, catches us both off guard, and I'm only able to see a blur as the Savior is violently torn off of me. In that same moment, a dark-skinned hand reaches down for mine, and I instinctively take it, allowing it to help me to my feet. The source of my aid is none other than Ezekiel and the culprit of my rescue is Shiva, the Bengal tiger herself. The massive feline predator finds herself firmly atop the Savior, viciously tearing into his flesh even as he screams out for mercy and an end to his misery. To my great surprise, Ezekiel too wields a sword, though one much smaller than my own. Quick observation reveals it to have been once hidden in his cane.

A shikomizue!

"Thanks!" I shout gratefully out to him.

"Don't thank me!" Ezekiel responds with a large smile. "Shiva came to your rescue. She must have taken quite a liking to you!"

A tiger just saved my life.

I never thought that would be among the experiences I would go through in life, but I'm no less astounded and thankful.

"Our losses are too great!" Ezekiel calls back to me. "We need to pull back and regroup!"

I nod my approval and immediately search my surroundings for Carl. I find him easily, standing not too far from me, launching another volley of gunfire at retreating Saviors. I'm quick to join him at his side and then, together, the two of us make a break for the bus. There, we find a very visibly exhausted Michonne, an injured Abraham, and a bloodied up Glenn and Maggie. All are alive, but don't seem to be in the best of conditions. My training as a medic immediately kicks in and I rush to their aid.

"Who's hurt the most?" I direct at Maggie, who seems to be the most healthy of the four.

"Abraham!" she gasps loudly in her Southern accent. "He was hit twice!"

Not good..!

Abraham it is. The large ginger man is quite visibly in pain, clutching his side with a bloody hand, even though the second wound in his shoulder looks equally as prominent and painful. I check him for exit wounds, but, to my dismay, only find one in the wound from his shoulder. That means the bullet that struck his side is lodged inside and could be causing a lot of damage at this very moment.

"We have to get him back!" I declare. "Denise needs to surgically remove this bullet!"

"We can't!" Glenn protests. "We're pinned down!"

"Not quite!" Carl interjects, keeping watch by peeking carefully around the side of the bus. "Negan and his men are pulling back into the woods!"

"Seriously?!" I exclaim.

Sure enough, Negan and his Saviors are indeed slipping off into the woods on the other side of their sanctuary, with walkers in hot pursuit. What could possibly make the Saviors bail like that? They aren't the type for surrender and its not like they were losing, all things considered. Still, if Negan runs, that gives us time to regroup, tend to our wounded, and go after him. Perhaps its a blessing after all. Abraham does need medical treatment, after all. Without warning, Ezekiel rounds the corner of the bus, Shiva, her beard now stained with the blood of the Savior she just finished eating, in hot pursuit.

"Load the bus!" he barks out. "They're pulling back! We need to regroup as well!"

I'm not about to argue with that.

"Wait!" Carl exclaims. "Where's Dad?!"

Thinking quickly, I scan the walker-ridden battlefield for Rick Grimes.

No sign of him.

"Son of a bitch." I curse under my breath, suddenly standing to my full height.

"Where are you going?" Michonne questions me, her face bloody from the walker gore sprayed on her earlier.

"We can't leave without Rick." I reply to her. "Carl and I will go find him. You guys load up!"

To my surprise, no one argues with me. I turn to Carl, who simply nods his approval, and the two of us dart out from behind the bus. By now, the gunshots have ceased. With our walker-gore-covered bodies, the cadavers pay us no heed, searching instead for the Saviors who just escaped their maw. The battlefield is covered with new corpses. The dead of both our side and the Saviors alike, both those who have yet to turn, and those completely unable, cover the snowy courtyard in a truly grotesque sight to behold.

Even still, the more unsettling matter was the lack of Rick Grimes. Neither Carl nor I have succeeded in finding him so far, leading to a million questions racing through my head. Did he go after them? Was he hurt? Surely he'd have emerged and said something by now. That is just Rick's nature. Carl even tries, in vain, to call out to him. The two of us are about to circle back to the bus to see if he has perhaps seen everyone loading up and headed that way, when a sudden movement catches Carl's attention from just off to our side. Carl recognizes the source of the movement and immediately spins around on the ball of his heel, relief sweeping over his face like a tidal wave.

"Dad, thank Go-''

Carl's voice suddenly goes eerily cold.

I turn to see just what it is that is bothering him so, still smiling myself after hearing him recognize Rick. My smile quickly fades though. Carl's chest violently heaves and I do the only thing I know I can do. Closing the distance between us before he can get too dangerously close, I reach out and grab Carl around his slim waist, pulling him hard back into me and away from the approaching danger. I feel heat in my eyes. Stinging, watery heat, even as Carl falls apart in my arms, still fighting to get to the lumbering figure that now approaches us. Time seems to move slowly, like one of those dramatic scenes in the old thriller movies. Only, this time, there is no getting up and leaving the theater when its over. This time it is reality and my heart shatters in that moment. The figure that lumbers out at us wears a tattered navy jacket, complete with a fur-lined collar. The shirt showing just underneath is that of a plain white t-shirt, one I've gotten used to seeing. It has on a set of dark, navy jeans, but its most distinguishing feature is its face.

Graying beard lining its mandible, and encircling its mouth.

Unkempt grayish-brown hair atop its head.

Its eyes, once a vibrant cobalt, have turned into a misty blue; glazed over with the physical effects of death.

By this point, Carl has stopped resisting me and is now loudly, violently sobbing into my chest. All noise in my ears now, however, is white noise. I blank out our surroundings. The walker doesn't see us as an enemy, nor do its hundreds of undead brethren surrounding us, but I still feel the sudden urge to step back further away from it, Carl still tightly clutched within my embrace. Static. All I can hear is static. The world itself ceases to exist around us in that moment. For that one, indescribably painful moment, dragging on for what seems like forever, only Carl, myself, and the walker exist. And as the tears burst from my eyes and I, along with Carl, collapse to my knees in agony, I know the the heart-wrenching, terrible truth:

The walker standing before us, is Rick Grimes...

...the one and only.

---

A/N: I truly don't have any words that can properly follow that ending, so I'll let you fill the gaps yourself. I'm sure many of you have questions. Rest assured they will all be answered in due time. Sometimes, shock value demands vagueness and this chapter is one such example. Be patient with me :3 I promise there is a reason for everything and all will be revealed in its own time. Now, one question I know I'll be asked eventually is, why Rick? He's the main character of TWD and a huge character in this story. Why him? I'll answer that question now. Rick has fulfilled his role in my stories. He became the father figure Tanner never had, was the second one to accept he and Carl's relationship, and finally accepted them both as men and as contributing members of the group. There are other, story-related reasons, but I can't reveal them yet, or I'll spoil something. Rest assured, though, that I have my reasons and his death wasn't something I just threw in there. Its been planned, though that didn't make it any easier for me to write. Initially, I was going to show his death scene, but figured this would be more memorable, so that's the scene we got in the end. Now the true question is this: Where does Carl go from here? His mother is dead, now so too is his father, whom we all know to be his rock. Can Tanner step up and take on that role now? Does he have what it takes? And who will fill the void left by Rick's leadership? How will Rick's departure affect the other characters, including his other child, little Judith?

Again I tell you, all these answers and more are approaching as the series comes to its climax! Despite the tragedy, I hope this chapter was enjoyable. Please leave thoughts and comments. I know this death will be controversial, but don't kill me! XD The story comes first and I promise this was necessary. Either way, I'm eager to hear what you all think!

Now, onto the reviews!

Guest: Thank you! I love you and all of you guys! Best readers ever!

aylamae: Carl and Tanner are capable of dirtiness, but its all in good fun. They enjoy each other's love, so its only natural for them to express it sexually, as well as romantically. One of the things I really try to stress with This Cruel Reality and This Sorrowful Life, in that regard, is that sex is a natural thing. Two people who love each other are inclined to do it, for a lot of various reasons, and I think society wrongfully makes the subject taboo. That being said, I always keep the scenes at a minimal because I want them to happen naturally, and sensibly, like they would in real life. I really am happy to hear you like their pairing that much! :) Sometimes, when I'm watching the show, and I see Carl really down and out, I wish Tanner was there to comfort him, so I make sure to write those scenes (and more) into the stories. Carl deserves some love too, and before Michonne became his friend, I thought he was severely lacking it. Thanks for your review :)

IamwhoIam987: I hope I didn't disappoint! Thank you :)

tentails: I hope I didn't disappoint! This chapter was definitely action packed! As to the question of a sequel to this one? Probably not. I could write about Tanner and Carl for years, but This Cruel Reality and This Sorrowful Life tell their tale, as I envision it, well enough that I don't think there needs to be a sequel. This should be the last installment, but you never know. I am open minded and I never say "no, definitely not", because things happen, new ideas are born, and I never want to close my mind to those opportunities. Long story short, though, for now, I'm saying "no" because these two stories have done a good job at telling their tale. Thanks :)

Thank you all for your kind words and comments!

Can't wait to hear from you guys about this one!

Until the next one, folks!

Later!