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SlumberingVoid — I agree, and actually think that's a really important point for all the queer characters in this story. Rhys has never defined his sexuality with a label at any point in the story (unless I've made a horrible mistake somewhere, aha!) It's an important part of his character to me. Carl's slightly different, while not very bothered about what people think about his relationship with Rhys, defining who he was that way mattered to him because he was scared his dad and others might not have accepted it. Mikey on the other hand, is Mikey. He's a big ol' nerd! He's the kind of person that needs to know the names of things and to define things.

Rhys introduced Henry and Carol to Earl down at his blacksmith's stall, and was shocked at how fast Earl was to accept taking Henry on as an apprentice.

It had been six years since Rhys almost killed Earl after he got drunk and tried to kill Maggie. In those years most had been forgiven between the two — even if Tammy Rose still gave Rhys a distasteful side glare every now and then. He understood.

While Carol and Earl hashed out how long an apprenticeship would last, Rhys took Henry to one of the spare rooms on the second floor of Barrington House, just across the hall from his own.

"Last time I was here, I slept in a tent with Jerry," Henry laughed.

Rhys smirked, unpacking Henry's bag for him while he was preoccupied with checking out the view from his window.

"You two had that game," Rhys said. "Where you made up who all the refugees from Alexandria were."

Henry laughed, stepping away from the window.

"Enid's still the doctor here, right?"

Rhys nodded slowly.

"Good— that's good."

"Why's that good?"

"...In case someone gets sick, or— anything."

"Right," Rhys said, nodding along.

After everything settled back into a more normal day for Hilltop, Rhys headed to the infirmary to sit by Rosita's bed with Pumpkin on his lap and a book in his hands. Pumpkin purred softly, and if he didn't know any better, Rhys might start to think that the critter liked him.

It didn't last long, though.

The door flew open and Pumpkin screeched, jumping from Rhys' lap and landing across the room. Tara was hanging into the room from the trailer doorway, out of breath.

"Everything okay?" Alden asked, he and Enid standing up from a game of scrabble they were playing at the table behind Rhys.

"Riders!" Tara gasped at them all. "Riders are coming. We've got unknowns approaching the gate."

Tara handed Rhys his gun that she must have grabbed on her way here. The four of them raced down to the gate where Dianne was stationed up on the watch post, looking over the wall through a pair of binoculars. Henry and Carol joined them; other settlers gathered behind them, grabbing spears and farming tools from the blacksmith's table for protection.

"How many?" Tara called up.

"Nine making their way up the road," Dianne shouted back. "Wait..." She looked down at them, her face pale and angry. "It's Michonne..."

Rhys felt a pit open in his stomach. A hole in his chest that sucked all the air from his lungs and held it tight. He thought Rosita was strange enough. Not to mention seeing Daryl or having Aaron inside Hilltop's walls. Michonne's name had become something of a bad omen at Hilltop. Years ago she was family to Rhys, maybe more so than anyone else.

But that all changed.

Dianne's face seemed to get paler as she looked out over the wall again.

"What is it?" Enid shouted.

Dianne was staring at Rhys.

"Carl Grimes is with them."

Rhys didn't react. On the outside, he didn't flinch. On the inside, it somehow stayed that way, too.

"What?" Tara asked.

Dianne checked again, nodding. "Siddiq and DJ, too. And five I don't recognise."

Rhys noticed that a lot of people were looking at him. It was almost funny— Carl and him used to laugh about how funny it was. Rick and Michonne had, much like Maggie, become kind of celebrities. Carol, too. People used to talk about how Alexandria, Hilltop, and Kingdom would always be held together by the bond between their leaders that went back to before any of the residents knew them. Over the years, that fame and that expectation seemed to trickle down to Rhys and Carl's shoulders, like people predicted their relationship to be the next glue to hold things together.

"You can go back inside," Tara whispered very quickly and quietly to Rhys. "I'll deal with it."

But Rhys didn't, and he climbed the ladder after Tara to the top of the watchtower where Dianne waited. She clutched her bow and asked if she should take aim. Tara shook her head as Michonne's wagon stopped outside the gates.

Tara and Rhys both stepped into view.

"State your business," Dianne called down.

Rhys did his best to avoid all the familiar eyes that he knew were staring at him from their horses, instead choosing to watch the five strangers in the back of the wagon DJ was driving. He didn't even take the others in; he knew it wasn't the time.

"We're here for Rosita," Michonne called up, her voice an old song Rhys tried his best not to sway to.

"We met your messengers on the road," Siddiq added. "They told us what happened."

"What about the others?" Tara asked.

The five unknowns shuffled uncomfortably in the back of the wagon, exchanging nervous looks between themselves.

Michonne answered her. "They're good people looking for a home. I told them Hilltop would consider taking them in."

Rhys realised that if Carl really was there, he hadn't spoken yet. Nor had Rhys. He pictured Carl watching him from the ground, only he didn't know what to picture after all these years. Just a hat and his father's squinting blue stare.

Rhys decided he wouldn't give in to that stare or stay quiet under a semblance of respect. He knew they were all thinking back like he was — back to when their roles were reversed. He turned his eyes to glass and shifted a steely glare to Michonne, glazing his vision enough that she was just a silhouette and no emotions could brew in his eyes.

"Lose your weapons," Rhys called down.

Even through the fog he could see Michonne's face stiffen and tense. They waited, but Tara didn't countermand his request.

Michonne unclipped her sword from her belt and dropped it down to the earth along with her gun. The others followed suit.

Tara glanced between Dianne and Rhys and then called for them to leave their horses and wagon outside, too.

"You want to take the lead on this?" Tara asked Rhys as they climbed off the tower. She looked almost hopeful.

"No," he told her. "I just need to do that."

"Why?"

"Tell you later."

There wasn't time to tell her now because the gates were opening, and the first Alexandrian envoy in years was walking through them.

Michonne walked right up to them. Rhys tried to keep his eyes glassy and cold, but she got too close for it to work, shattering his shield. She was wearing one of Rick's old shirts, her ring on a silver chain around her neck. It felt like both of them were standing before them. Behind her, Siddiq, DJ, and the strangers, Rhys could see the silent and golden rim of a worn brown hat in the crowd. Moth eaten and bruised.

"Where's Jesus?" Michonne asked.

"Out with the search party looking for Eugene," Tara answered.

"Eugene's missing?" Michonne's face was sour. "Since when?"

"I dunno," Tara said. "Thought you would."

Rhys took a few purposeful steps back to where Enid and Alden were watching.

Siddiq followed him.

"How is Rosita?" he asked Enid.

"She was almost unconscious when she got here, but she'll be fine," Enid said. "It's dehydration and heat exhaustion, mainly. She should wake up soon."

"If she's been unconscious, how do you know Eugene was with her?" Michonne asked.

Rhys heard the smug delight in Tara's voice when she answered. "Aaron told us."

Michonne's jaw clenched. "Aaron's here?"

"No, he's with Jesus and Daryl," Tara said. "Daryl came down from his mountain with Carol and Henry. It's like the old gang's back together."

Rhys' glassy eyes trailed off after that as he tried to not think about the then over the now.

"Which way were they headed?" Michonne asked.

"You can pick up their trail, but you're not gonna catch them before nightfall," Alden told her.

"It's Daryl," Tara sighed, clearly ready to end this reunion. "Probably on their way back already. You can have your weapons back when you leave tomorrow. As for the rest of you... you're gonna have to wait until Jesus gets back. He's in charge. If you really want to stay, I'll talk to him, and you're gonna have to earn your keep."

One of the unknowns with curly black hair stepped forward, putting her fingers to her chin and gesturing out.

"She says thank you," another girl with a younger face and short black hair buzzed at the sides told them. "We all do."

Tara and Michonne watched each other coldly and with distaste towards the other. Like two sheets of burning ice, until Tara said okay and walked away.

"Marco!" Rhys called out to the boy hanging to a nearby fence and watching. "Help them get their horses settled?"

Marco nodded, dropping an apple he was eating to jog over. Rhys turned and quickly followed Tara, the others following him, leaving Siddiq, Michonne, DJ, Carl, and the strangers behind.

Knowing that Enid was just waiting to talk to him about what they spoke on last night, Rhys decided to head down to the stables and find the new people. Knowing from all too many experiences that being the new person is sometimes worse than being outside the walls. He found them in between two of the stalls, sorting through a few of the bags they arrived with. A girl with messy, fair brown hair and scattered tattoos running up both arms was talking to the others as she unloaded a duffle from the wagon.

"So, the guy running things here calls himself Jesus? Sounds like a cult to me."

"He's actually called Paul," Rhys interrupted.

"Shit!" Magna hissed, jumping at his voice and spinning to face him with the rest.

"But after you see him," Rhys continued coolly, "you'll get why we call him Jesus."

The brunette with the duffle watched him like a hawk.

"Hi," another woman with long black hair and a dirty white bandage around her forehead said with a smile. "Thought I spotted an accent when you were up on that wall."

Rhys couldn't help the quiet smile that infected his cheeks. "Whereabouts you from?"

"You know Brackley?" the woman asked, squinting like she doubted he would.

Rhys laughed a little. "Yeah, yeah. I was London, so not far."

His accent had definitely morphed and slipped into more 'Americanisms' over the last few years, so Rhys was happy that she had recognised it.

"Great!" the brunette waved her hands at the two of them. "Now that we're all best friends, can I get my knives back?"

"Mags," the British woman hissed.

"Afraid it's just procedure with unknowns," Rhys told her.

"Felt a little more personal than that," 'Mags' said under her breath.

"If Jesus says you can stay, you'll get them back."

"Peachy."

"It's Rhys, right?" the politer of the two women asked. "Sorry, I heard Michonne talking about you with Carl on the way here. I'm Yumiko Okumura."

Rhys shook her hand when she offered it very formally. He knew she was trying to win over some trust the same way that Carol used to make beetroot cookies and wear baby blue cardigans. But he didn't mind. "Rhys Washburne."

"Pleasure."

"And the rest of you?" Rhys asked.

"Magna," the brunette said, not offering a handshake but a sharp nod. "That's Connie." She pointed to the girl that thanked them in sign language at the gate. She had been watching him the whole time. "Kelly and Luke just went to pee."

Rhys smiled at Connie as she signed something that made Yumiko look at her funny before she translated for Rhys.

"Connie wants to know if your mum's name was Ellen?"

Rhys took a moment to process the question.

"It was..." he finally said slowly.

Connie could obviously read lips because she got excited the moment Rhys finished. Magna translated the fast but deliberate hand movements that came next for Rhys.

"She says your mom was a hero— wait, really?" Magna stared back at Connie who rolled her eyes and took out a pen and paper from her vest to start writing. The other two were watching with bemused expressions. Rhys felt like he knew where it was going.

'Your mom reported in Sri Lanka, right?'

Rhys nodded, scratching his chin. He didn't feel uncomfortable, but more just strange talking about things from so long ago that calling them memories would feel like a stretch. Connie seemed to pick up on it, holding up her hands before signing one last thing to him.

"She says she doesn't mean to pry," Yumiko told him.

Before Rhys could decide if he minded, Yumiko was saying something else.

"We're good people. And we want to prove it." Yumiko glanced back at the two behind her. "Tell us how."

Rhys' face was calm and didn't react much to her request. "When Jesus gets back, he'll let you know. Just hold tight 'till then."

Michonne and Siddiq strode past them then, stopping when they saw Rhys standing by the stalls their horses were stabled in.

They were kind of standing between him and his exit now.

"Hi, Rhys," Siddiq said with a kind smile. Rhys could have sworn he saw Siddiq about to go in for a hug, but after what happened at the gates, he wasn't surprised he hesitated.

"Good to see you, Siddiq," Rhys said.

Michonne shifted her weight, looking Rhys up and down, making him feel much smaller than he was. "You been okay?"

"I guess."

Carol came down from Barrington house then, a burgundy bedroll under her arm, and a tan satchel in her other hand. Rhys reckoned he'd never been happier to see her than when she stopped right beside them at her wagon — because once she and Michonne started talking and the air became stale and tense, he offered to show Siddiq, Magna, Connie, and Yumiko where they'd be sleeping to get out of dodge.

Carol left a little past noon. Dianne went with her. She missed Jenny, Jerry, and the King, and figured Hilltop didn't need her as badly right now. Rhys wanted to be upset about it, but with Michonne and everyone else here, he was tempted to go with them. Instead, he saw them off with Henry, Pumpkin standing right between his legs in an attempt to hide from all the new and loud people. Rhys watched Carol hold Henry with teary eyes.

"I'm gonna make you proud, Mom."

"You already have."

She turned to Rhys after letting her son go. "You'll—"

"We'll take care of him," Rhys said, punching Henry's arm. "Earl will work him 'till he misses living in a palace, but he'll be safe here."

Carol nodded until she felt better about it — still after all this time finding it hard to ask Rhys for anything. But Henry had never been a subject they felt uncomfortable talking about since he was her son and practically his brother. "Thank you."

Once Dianne and Carol were gone, Henry asked Rhys something out the corner of his pursed lips, his eyes on the gates that just closed out the sight of their wagon.

"Did my mom talk to Michonne about Alexandria sending a delegation to the fair?"

"I'm sure she tried."

Henry glanced up at Barrington house. "Maybe if I try? Maybe I can think of something to say?"

"There's nothing you can say to Michonne that Carol, your dad, or anyone else hasn't tried."

"Have you tried?" Henry asked.

"No."

"Will you?"

"I won't."

Rhys found it harder to sugar-coat things now, especially when he'd answered that same question a hundred times before.

Henry grimaced. "What about Carl?"

"What about him?"

Henry scowled at Rhys. "Come on, man."

Rhys shook his head. "Go finish settling in. I'll find you at dinner."

And Rhys did just that — only Earl was working Henry overtime to make up for some tools he sent back with Carol as an advance on his pay, so Rhys sat with Marco, Enid, and Alden while they ate. He was watching their meals with a famished stare.

"You know you can grab a plate?" Alden chuckled at Rhys, whose eyes were fixed on his meatloaf.

"I'm waiting for Henry," Rhys grumbled, breaking eye contact with the food to look at the couple sitting opposite him.

"He should be eating with the other kids his age," Enid told him. "If he avoids socialising he'll end up like you and never make friends."

"I know," Rhys groaned. "I just said I would, and I feel like for the first few nights it might be easier for him if..." Rhys trailed off.

"You're worried about him," Enid said.

"Yeah," Rhys sighed. "Didn't think I would be when Carol sent her letter. Guess I was wrong."

"You know," Marco chimed in with a mouthful of string beans, "I think you should be eating with Carl and the others." He looked over to where the Alexandrians were sitting at a bench separated from the bulk of the Hilltoppers.

"Leave it, Marco," Enid hissed at him.

"What? You're the one that always thought they should talk again."

Enid grimaced at him. "I meant, like, send letters and talk. I didn't reckon he'd show up at the gates with Michonne!"

"Well, he has, and he did," Marco says. "Seems like a good moment to me, but what do I know."

"Not all that much, apparently," Alden sighed.

As people finished their meals, they started to trickle off into their evening routines. Enid and Rhys were the last at their table, and only a few other tables were still occupied by a couple of groups still finishing up.

"Have you spoken to him?" Rhys asked Enid, who had been staring up at the amber sky.

"I haven't," Enid answered without looking down. "Even with Siddiq here, Rosita is still my patient, and I haven't had much time for anything else. Honestly, I'm glad Siddiq came. Gives me a chance to take a break like this."

"I haven't even looked at him," Rhys said.

Enid did look down then, watching Rhys with her shrewd eyes.

"I know," Rhys groaned at her look. "I know."

She narrowed her eyes.

"You know you're meant to be my best friend," Rhys hissed. "Why don't you just side with me for once?"

Enid rolled her eyes.

Then Henry appeared with a tray of what was left of Ms Maitlin's meatloaf.

He didn't even glance at Rhys. "Hi— Hey, Enid."

"Hiya, Henry," Enid said with a smile so wide Rhys had to bite his tongue to not laugh. He knew that Enid knew that Henry liked her. Anyone with eyes and a general grasp of the English language could figure it out. "How was your first day on the job?"

Henry sat down beside Rhys, nodding coolly. "It was whatever, y'know? Earl's a nice guy. Alden, too, I guess."

Rhys actually did snort at that and shrieked in pain when Enid thwacked his shin under the table with her boot.

"I'm sure you two will get to know each other working at the forge," Enid said. "You'll be friends before you know it."

Rhys went to get his own food, and a little after that, Enid excused herself from the table, saying she should check on Rosita and telling Rhys to come see her later.

Rhys smacked the back of Henry's head when he caught him watching Enid walk away.

"Quit it, knobhead," Henry hissed.

"So, how was your first day, really?"

Henry pouted at his food. "Well, I found out Enid and Alden are a thing. That sucked."

"You'll get over it."

"But... are they actually a thing, like... dating, or are they a thing like my brother and Jenny were a thing."

"Man, I don't know..." Rhys wasn't lying. He paid very little attention to the romances that seemed to blossom around Hilltop faster than their vegetables. He preferred the vegetables. Fewer things happen between the beginning and the end. "They're dating, I guess."

"Are you...?" Henry trailed off, looking away.

Rhys rolled his eyes and scoffed at him. "You'll get over it, man."

"Says you."

"Says me."

"What are you doing after this," Henry asked, his mouth full.

"Seeing Enid, apparently."

A little later, while Henry and Rhys scraped their plates at the waste table, Adney, Rodney, and Gage, who were sitting up on a wooden deck balcony by the wall across the courtyard, invited Henry to hang out with them.

Henry looked at Rhys like he wasn't sure. Rhys had used those three as examples of potential friends for Henry, the truth being they were the most mischievous teens Hilltop had ever produced. But they weren't bad kids.

"Just make sure you go to bed early, yeah?" Rhys said. "Only thing Earl hates more than you being late is you being so tired you might as well have been late and just gotten the extra sleep."

The sky turned dark.

That's when the Hilltop stopped swaying to the breeze of today's strangeness and became still.

That's when Rhys started to breathe.

That's when he found himself walking up to a dusty brown stetson standing on the washed-out porch of Barrington House that always offered itself up for moments like these.

"Hi, Carl."

That familiar hat turned, shifted, and morphed until it faced him and the years between them. Everything was on display. Like seeing each other for the first time.