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BabySlothXYaoi- Thought we needed it! Ugh, I love Rosita so much. Very excited for her future in the story, and I'm thrilled that you like their dynamic so far! The beanie had to be returned, there was a part of me that wanted to have Rhys keep it... but the thought of Ty without his beanie just feels odd. You never know... Rhys did promise to make Carl a mixtape, maybe he'll come through on it one day... there's hope. Yeah, Gabe is a pain at the moment. We'll dive into Rhys's past a teensy bit more this chapter... I think church ceilings also reach so high to make them seem grander from afar... I did way to much church research for these chapters and used so little of it, thus I'm glad to have answered your silent question! Hopefully Rhys can continue to make Carl feel less guilty about his indifference to death, since, like you say, there is nothing wrong with feeling that way. I've been trying to let the boys have their moments before everything gets scary again. Babies can be annoying, but Judy is a saint, and I'm glad you deem her worthy of a head pat. She's good at reading emotions like her big brother. Thank you again!

Guest- I can't tell you how happy I am that you're enjoying it! Thank you so much for the support, it truly means the world!

Night shrouds the church beneath its thin veil, flecks of moonlight spilling through stained glass, lighting up the church with dark reds and blighted yellows, the addition of candlelight making the drafty building feel cosier.

A table before the alter sits lined with bowls of kidney beans and string beans, baked beans and every other kind of bean that comes in a can. Another table has dried bananas and apricots accompanied by the last of the English walnuts. The squirrels Daryl caught earlier have been cooked and diced. So much more food is spread out that I find myself overwhelmed. I spot Carl sneaking away, a can of chocolate pudding clutched in his hands.

My mouth starts to water as I stack my paper plate high with some of everything, except the pudding since Carl took all 112 ounces of it.

The last thing I need to put on my plate is sweetcorn. I thumb at the bracelet now back on my wrist, smiling as my mind wanders back to when I first met Karen.

"She would have loved this," Tyreese is at my side, reading through my thoughts as he messes up my hair, now just a forest of dark curls and waves.

"She would of, yeah," I speak up to him, pushing his hand away with a smile.

Tyreese pats my back before moving to sit down next to Rick, who's holding a very excited Judith, as she gazes around at all the happy people, occasionally being snuck a piece of apricot by Michonne, who sits on Rick's other side.

I look around, taking in the feast. Maggie is sat with Tara, both of them laughing about a joke unknown to me. Glenn, sitting on the pew behind theirs as he shovels food into his mouth. Across the aisle, Rosita pours Abraham a glass of wine which definitely isn't his first. He decides to take the whole bottle from her, chuckling about his size and needing it. Daryl was sitting with Carol, but heads towards the church toilets, after Eugene tries to ask him something.

Everyone is smiling and happy, with full plates to keep it that way. Holding loved ones close as they dig in.

I notice Sasha has a cup of water in hand, sitting in the aisle with her back up against a pew.

"Not drinking wine?" I ask her with a smirk.

"After the other night? No," she laughs at the water.

I ask her where Bob is when I notice he's missing.

"Said he needed some fresh air."

"You do know that you kinda said yes to marrying him the other night, right?"

Sasha is still smiling at her drink, "Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?"

Abraham, who had been listening to our conversation, stands up, a half-empty bottle of communion wine in his hand.

"I would like to propose a toast!" he calls out. Everyone falls silent.

I look for Carl, something that takes some time, since he had chosen to go a few rows towards the back of the church, sitting on a kneeler, tucked between two pews. I sit beside him, both of us now hidden, tucked away from everyone's sight, sitting shoulder to shoulder.

We hear Abe go on at the front of the church, clearly more than slightly drunk, "I look around this room, and I see survivors. Each and every one of you has earned that title. To the survivors!"

Cheers ring out.

"Yeah!"

"Whoo!"

"To the survivors!"

The toast is perfect, which means, with Abraham, there has to be more.

"Is that all you want to be?" Abe goes on, "Wake up in the morning, fight the undead pricks, and go to sleep with two eyes open, rinse and repeat?"

I peak out over the pew and see that Abraham's looking directly at Rick now.

"Cause you can do that. You got the strength. You got the skill. But for what you people can do, that's just surrender."

I watch as Carol gets up quietly, heading for the door. We meet eyes as she passes our pew, neither of us smiling at the other.

"Now, we get Eugene to Washington, and he will make the dead die, and the living will have this world again. Ain't a bad takeaway for a little road trip."

Eugene goes on to explain everything awaiting us in Washington.

"What do you think?" Carl asks me.

When I hear him, I duck back down, sitting on the floor, hidden again between the seats.

"About Washington?"

Carl nods.

"I didn't believe him. Not really," I sigh.

"But now," I take his hand, "I think I do. I'm probably mental, but I think I do believe it."

"What made you believe?"

"Someone with a very positive attitude," I grin.

His cheeks turn a dark red as he hides in his chocolate pudding.

We eat our food without any stress. Carl even sharing some of the pudding with me as a trade for some sweetcorn.

Then Carl looks at me, really looking at me, like he looked at me yesterday. Staring with his eyebrows arched.

"Hey, Rhys?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, man."

"Really?"

I chuckle, squeezing his hand, "Yes, really."

A smile spreads across his face, eyes wide.

"Can I- um... can I kiss you?" He asks.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes..."

So he does. And it's different from how it was in the prison, short and meaningful. His breath is warm as we pull away, everything on the verge of perfection.

"Another drink?" he asks me, reaching for my empty water cup. Rosita had offered me wine when no one was looking earlier, but I refused because I hate the stuff. Tastes like cleaning fluid and smoked cigarettes.

"I'll do it," I say, pushing my forehead to his, before standing up into view of everyone else, back into the real world.

I head to the drinks table, listening to the end of Abraham's speech.

"-don't got nothing left to do except survive."

Rick then tells him we're in, after consulting with a babbling Judith, and there is cheering and clapping once again.

"Now!" Abraham slurs, "On a more serious note, dear ol' Bob said he would marry this beautiful woman if they ever found somewhere safe. Don't know about you lot, but I'm feelin' safe right now. Hell, we are in a church! We got a priest! And Bob says we're family, so we're all invited!" he cheers, "Let's have ourselves a wedding!"

He looks around the room for Bob, only finding Sasha.

"Darlin', have you seen the groom?"

"Stepped outside for some air," Sasha smirks at him, shaking her head at his drunken suggestion but not saying no all the same.

"Well, you better go find him," Abraham hurries her with his hands. "I am planning on drinking a lot more of this fine wine before the night is done."

While Sasha goes out looking for Bob, I bring Carl his drink, leaving him with it.

"Where are you going?" he calls after me as I walk back up the aisle.

"I'll only be a moment," I avoid the question slightly.

I find myself knocking on the thin wood of Gabriel's office door.

"Come in," his small voice calls out.

I follow his instructions, closing the door behind me.

He hurriedly shoves something back into his desk draw, and I pretend not to notice.

"Ah, Rhys, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"I've been waiting for you to come and speak with me," Gabriel tells me.

"Y-you have?"

"Yes, I saw you cross yourself when you came in. I haven't had another person of faith in my church for a long time," he smiles.

"Oh, no. I'm not religious," I tell the smiling Gabrial.

"Strange, most people don't cross themselves when entering holy ground."

"Must be a habit, I guess. My grandparents were really into the whole God thing."

Gabriel's smile doesn't fade, but it feels hollow.

"How can I help you, Rhys?" he asks.

"Right," I realise I'm not entirely sure, "Do you, um. Do you take confessions?"

"I have done for my flock in the past. Why do you ask?"

"Would you take mine?" I feel stupid. "Or do you not do that anymore?"

Gabrial leans back in his office chair, watching me as if amused.

"This world is a hard one, a new one. But faith is constant. If you need to tell me about something, I will listen."

"Okay, uh, what do I do?"

"Take a seat," he gestures to the sofa beside his desk. I feel like I'm in detention.

"What is it you wish to confess?" he asks me, calm in his voice.

The word 'confess' hurts me for some reason. Like I was wrong. Like I had a choice.

"I killed someone."

Gabriel sits up slightly, clearly shocked, his mouth slightly ajar.

"Go on," he tells me.

"I don't know what to say," I feel embarrassed.

"What was their name?"

"I don't know."

"Who were they?"

" I don't- I don't know."

"Why did you sin?"

"I- I didn't."

Gabriel leans forward, his squeaky chair taking a deep breath for him.

"You did. Perhaps the worst sin of all. You broke one of the commandments," he sighs, "But you can still find forgiveness from the Lord."

"I don't think I want forgiveness," I tell him, a stone in my throat.

"I don't know how you want me to help you. If you don't ask for forgiveness and repent, you will forever be guilty of mortal sin. The punishment is damnation... Hell."

I stand up, "Okay, sorry, this was a bad idea," I leave the room quickly, ignoring his calls after me as I slam the door.

Everyone looks up at the commotion. I look down in response, apologising to the room via the floor.

While feeling embarrassed on all fronts, I see Daryl sitting alone and smoking in one of the church's corners.

Before I even realise it, I'm moving across the church, sitting down beside him. I don't know what I want to say to him. Perhaps I just want to sit with someone who doesn't want to talk either.

"What happened to Beth?"

Apparently, I do want to talk.

Daryl doesn't look up from his smoke, finding himself lost in it, hiding within it, a fog that keeps him from the church.

"What happened to you out there?" He answers my question with his own.

"Don't want to talk about it," I tell him, my voice breaking.

Daryl inhales his hiding spot, nodding, before breathing out with the words, "There's your answer."

I consider this to be fair enough, as well as the end of our conversation until he speaks again, "Carol's sorry for what she did."

"No, she's not."

He nods like he agrees with me over himself, "She wants to be."

"I don't care."

"You don't seem to be enjoying this..." Daryl flicks the ash from his cigarette towards the celebrations.

"What?"

Daryl doesn't say anything. He knows that I know what he meant.

I sigh, "Abraham said he feels safe here... I don't."

"Cause' you ain't."

"Huh?"

"Nowhere's safe anymore."

"Then why does everyone act like we are."

"Guess they pick their moments," Daryl shrugs, looking forward towards the exit. "Don't know how."

"I think I do."

Daryl turns his head ever so slightly in my direction, catching me in his peripheral in curiosity.

I go on, "People like you make everyone feel safe. You're always on edge. Waiting for things to go wrong, you're ready for it."

"People like me," Daryl looks away again slowly, taking another drag. "Or people like you?"

I give him a shrug, pushing my head back and scratching my nose when it itches, "I don't make people feel safe. I'm a kid."

Daryl sits up, his cloud of smoke diluting into the air as he looks for someone. I can guess who.

"She left during the speech. Probably went out on watch or-"

Daryl is up before I finish, grabbing his crossbow and vest before sprinting for the door.

His cigarette is left on the floor beside me, halfway to being burnt out. I take it in my hand, twirling it between my fingers. I spot Glenn making his way towards me, Rick's weapon filled duffle in hand. I stub out the cancer stick on the varnished wood floor before stuffing it into my jacket pocket.

"Rhys, you holding up okay?"

I nod, not feeling like speaking.

"Just wanted to give you this." Glenn reaches into the duffle bag and hands me half a broom handle with a knife tied to the end.

I take my old spear from him, amused by its reduction in length.

I grab the belt that is somehow still around my wrist, attaching it to what is left of the spear, leaving it enough slack to hang to my hip, like the satchel I lost.

"Thanks, Glenn."

"Anytime."

Just as I'm thinking about rejoining the party, Sasha bursts through the front doors, getting every gun in the room pointed at her in seconds.

"I can't find Bob!"

Rick is the first one to leave, his revolver at the ready.

Almost everyone following him out, Maggie stands by the door.

She stops me before I can run out, "Stay here with the rest of us, with Carl. Keep Judith safe."

She can tell that I want to argue. That I want to be out there.

"Please, Rhys..."

"Fine," I relent.

I sit on the pew closest to the door, my hand behind me, holding on to my gun as it lies in my SOB holster, ready.

Carl sits beside me, Judith beside him. She lies fast asleep in a wicker basket Gabrial had given to us. Carl told him thank you while I stayed quiet.

Rosita, Abraham, and Eugene stay inside with us. Keeping to the far end of the church as they study over a map Abraham found, bickering about the bus.

"Tired?" Carl asks me, a whisper as not to wake Judith.

"No," I'm not trying to sound grumpy, but it definitely comes across.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks me softly.

"I'm useless in here."

"No, you're not."

Desperate to change the subject, I remember something I still have... something the Termites didn't steal from me. I reach into my pocket and hand it to Carl.

"Gwendolyn?!" Carl whispers excitedly, taking the stuffed giraffe from me.

"I'm surprised you remembered her name," I smile.

While Carl gently places the toy into Judith's basket, I reach into the same pocket, pulling out the other thing.

Carl stops when he sees it.

"I thought it burnt at the prison..."

"It was in your bag with Gwendolyn... Glenn had it." I hand Carl the creased photo of his parents and him, all the smiles still held inside.

"Thank you..." he holds it close.

As Carl's about to say more, Michonne appears next to me, asking to speak with Carl. He gets up, carrying his sister's cradle with him to the front of the church.

Just when I'm ready to go back to sulking, Maggie sits in Carl's spot, picking up a bible from in front of her.

"Y'know, I hate it in here." She tells me, flipping through the black book before putting it back down.

"Me too."

"How are you and Carl doing?"

"I think we're good." I realise I never thanked her for the advice she gave me back on the prison's fence. "We are good," I confirm.

Not sure what to say, I ask, "How are you and Glenn?"

My question makes her scoff. "Yeah, we're good too."

"Why did you wanna go out there?" Maggie questions me in her Southern accent.

"I don't know."

Maybe because they could all be dead.

I try to shake the thoughts from my head.

While they're out there, the rest of us are left waiting, waiting for what always happens. I might not be great at talking anymore, but being out there is something I can do.

"I really don't know," I tell Maggie meekly, I feel like crying, but I somehow don't. So I get angry at myself instead.

"Don't know?" Maggie repeats my words at me.

"It's like my head just keeps spinning. I was fine in the woods before we got here, but now-"

The doors crash open again, scaring me for the second time.

I draw my berretta and aim it towards the door, almost shooting Sasha as she storms into the room.

Candles light her way as she storms to the front of the church. Rick and Tyreese on her heels.

No Bob.

A/N

Man, Gabriel is a shitty priest.

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