Reviews:

BabySlothXYaoi- Tara is too much fun to write, honestly, it should be criminal! Aha, I don't think Rhys is great at it either, I imagine he just saw something blue on the map and thought, "Water!". Glad that was enjoyed... not only is Rhys feeling deflated about the argument, but I think he also just doesn't feel like he can judge someone for doing whatever it takes to survive, especially not after what he's done to survive. Tara brings all the good vibes to the group, she's the person that picks the music on road trips.

Guest- Love to hear that! Here it is!

notmuchmoretosay- Thank you! I miss the prison era too, although it was the hardest to write so far. You're right, Both fantastic books! There are definitely some terrors to come...


Huge thanks to notmuchmoretosay for taking the time to proofread this chapter!


The church is still a few klicks out, I don't have any idea what a klick is, but Abraham sounded pretty positive about it when he shouted it from the steering wheel.

Rosita and I volunteered to ride on the back of the truck, which I'm now slightly regretting. As I watch the road race away beneath my dangling feet, my hands gripping the support bars for dear life. Rosita seems to find this highly amusing.

I can faintly hear the sounds of Abraham and Glenn arguing over directions in the front cab. Maggie and Tara, shouting at them to calm down while they fuss over Eugene in the back, who has somehow managed to pass out again.

"Didn't know you had siblings!" I call out to Rosita over the engine's spluttering.

Rosita gives me a funny look, her eyebrows raised are her eyes somehow narrowed at the same time.

"You mentioned that you had a nephew back when Abe wasn't drinking water!" I leave it there. Working out that she doesn't want to have this conversation now.

Though it seems I'm wrong, Rosita carefully slides closer to me on the back of the firetruck. Close enough that we don't have to shout.

"He was my brother's," Rosita tells me, nudging my arm.

"Older or younger?"

"Older."

Not really knowing what it was like to have either, I just smile at her.

"He was the first," she went on.

"The first what?"

"The first guy that tried to protect me. There have been a lot. But he was the first."

"Try to protect you?" I laugh. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Rosita bumps me again, slightly too hard this time. I slip in my already precarious seat, sending me into a panic as I grab her, trying desperately not to fall from the moving vehicle. She apologies to me when I scowl at her.

"Yeah, I hated it when people tried to look after me. I still hate it." She tries to move on from almost turning me into roadkill.

I look at her, curious. "Even your brother?"

"Him most of all! He was such a tough guy growing up, always getting into fights with my boyfriends... and there were a few. he never thought they were doing right by me. Always telling me they weren't good enough."

"Sounds like he really loved you."

"He did," Rosita smiles, "He was such a family man, but I hated that about him. I was always hopping jobs and travelling while he was busy having kids, and I always felt like he judged me for that. Always told me that 'the world would chew me up if I didn't settle down'... Well, that really backfired on him when the world went to shit, and he had everything holding him back. While me? I only needed to pack a bag."

I want to agree with her, to see her point.

"I don't know..." I tell her finally, "I mean, I don't think settling down is a bad idea. We just have to do it our way- we can't rely on other people. We do that, and we'll just find another Terminus... But I don't want to be on the road anymore."

Rosita smiles at me, nodding her head. I'm not sure if she agrees, though.

I decide to tell her something.

"You asked me why I wanted to come on this mission," I tell her.

She nods. "Figured it out yet?"

I parrot her nod, scratching my nose awkwardly, still holding the support bars. "Carl told me that I'm good- he, erm- he said that I was better than him, that I hadn't let the world spoil me."

Rosita watches me, patiently waiting for me to finish. Her patience makes it easier to speak.

"I killed someone in Terminus," I go on, "I didn't feel bad about it, and ever since then, I feel like I've been... spiralling? I left the church because I was scared Carl would realise that I'm not what he described."

Rosita nods. She nods like she gets it, like she understands what I'm saying too well.

"Scared to go back?" She asks.

"No," I shake my head. "Abe told me in the library that running away isn't going to make me better. I miss Carl, and I want him to know who I am now."

"Who's that?" Rosita cocks an eyebrow.

"Someone stronger."

The ride starts to get bumpier, rocks spiting up from the road when we trade asphalt for gravel. The change in surface turns the smooth ride into a bumpy nightmare. Rosita grabs my arm in support when I flail against each bump, definitely regretting the decision to ride on the back. The trees start to look familiar, the winding path twisting through them until we pass a hanging sign.

ST. SARAH'S CHURCH.

"Hold on to your sacks!"

Abraham's warning doesn't come nearly soon enough. The sound of wood splintering as the truck hits something hard sends my head smacking into the cold metal behind me.

"What the hell?" I cradle my bruised skull, slipping off the back and peeking my head around the corner.

Carl, Michonne, and Gabriel are standing there, looking just as stunned as Rosita and me.

Why are there so few of us left?

Abraham hops out of the truck, the rest too, leaving Eugene in the fire truck, Rosita assuring us that he'll be fine.

Deciding he's not in the mood for social interaction, Abe heads to the road, keeping watch.

Maggie and Michonne are quick to embrace. Glenn and Tara, standing by while Carl and I crash into each other, despite only a night having separated us.

"Fuck, I missed you," I laugh into him. Squeezing the back of his neck tight.

Carl just whispers that he loves me, pulling away and kissing my cheek before anyone notices. He smiles at me, his eyes teary. "Why are you back?" he asks.

I go to answer, but Tara shoves me out the way, hugging Carl and patting Judith on the head, who until this moment, I didn't even notice is tied onto Carl's back.

"Sorry for swearing, Jude," I laugh, moving around Carl to say hello. Carl hands her to me when he sees that I want to hug her.

After Michonne hugs me, Glenn and her grasp each other's arms in greeting, Glenn asking her the obvious. "Where is everyone?" His eyes fall to Gabriel suspiciously as the priest stands off to the side awkwardly.

"They're okay," is Michonnes's only answer. She follows it up with another statement before we can ask more questions. "You're back."

"Eugene lied. He can't stop it... Washington isn't the end." Glenn breaks the news to them. No one acts surprised, but I can feel their silent pain. The pain that came from believing in the first place.

"Where is everybody?" Glenn doesn't let go of our first question.

Michonne lets a smile onto her face, her chin shaking in that Michonne way. She passes Glenn, taking Maggie's hands. "Beth's alive."

Everything comes back.

"She's in a hospital."

That painful hope is back.

"In Atlanta."

The purpose is back.

"Some people have her, but the others went to get her back."

The tears are back.

"Do we know which one?" Maggie is full of everything, everything that came back, the hope, the purpose, and the tears storming through her.

Michonne's nodding, lips quivering. "Grady Memorial."

"Oh my god."

Now Michonne's smile is spreading, all of us feeling what was lost, what came back. What always comes back.

"Let's blow this joint," Tara points to the truck. "Let's go save your sister."

Abraham and Rosita look lost by the conversation, the idea of moving on all they heard. Glenn pulls Maggie into a hug when her legs look like they might buckle from the emotions. I laugh at Tara when she mouths 'TEAMGRR' at me, a stupid grin on her face, mine too. Carl and Michonne are smiling wide at each other. Even Gabriel cracks a smile, despite not being sure who Beth is.

"Give us five to scratch our asses and stretch our tootsies. Then we'll get ourselves to this Grady." Abraham tells us all.


Carl and I give Judith to Michonne before trying to disappear behind the church together. But Michonne is too fast and far too clever.

"Stay where we can all see each other!"

"Yes, Ma'am," I call back. Carl laughs at my annoyance.

"So much for saving the world then?" Carl asks me. The two of us finding a seat under an old oak tree that stands tall against the blue sky.

"Yeah," I nod, not sure if the lack of cure feels more normal or strange.

"You okay with that?" Carl asks, gazing at me from under his hat.

"I think so."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not alone."

We sit holding hands beneath the oak, our connection is hidden under the orange backpack that had since been given back to Carl.

"Y'know," Carl breaks the silence with a smirk, "Maggie and Glenn know about us."

"They worked it out back at the prison, yeah..." I hum.

"So does Michonne, because I told her back at Terminus. Before we went over the fence." Carl goes on.

"I remember, yeah..."

"And you told Rosita."

"No, she worked it out too."

"She did?"

I unzip my jacket's neck, showing Carl the hickey from the night where too much happened. I thought he would look embarrassed, but he's actually looking ridiculously proud.

"Oh, I did that?... Cool." He sits back, smiling to himself. "Anyways, they all know about us, Tara won't care, and Abraham definitely couldn't care less." Carl seemed to be closing in on a point. "Gabriel... well, I don't care what he thinks, and Eugene, I'm pretty sure he has no input."

"Okay... and that all means what exactly?" I ask, my eyebrow cocked.

Carl leans in, his hat scrapping against the oak as he moves, tipping back on his head as he kisses me.

"It means I can do that."

I feel butterflies rising, but the good kind. Not the guilty kind.

I lean my head onto his shoulder, the smell of christmas trees well and truly gone.

"So how long do you have to live with that um... bruise?" Carl finally asks.

"Dude, I've no idea. But if it stays much longer, I'm gonna have to start looking for turtle necks."

Carl laughs at this, and I join him in laughing as he leans his head atop mine, completing our game of human Jenga.

"What about Judith?" I ask.

"Huh?" Carl mumbles into my hair.

"You said a reason for everyone. Except for Judith."

"She doesn't need a reason," Carl answers. "She's my sister."

The wind picks up a little, blowing my curled fringe into my eyes so that I have to move it.

"Rhys," Carl says my name so quietly that I almost miss it.

I listen.

Carl speaks. "After I escaped the Cavalcade. After Dad and Michonne found me..." his voice breaks a little. "We ran into these bad men. Daryl was stuck with them."

I can hear it in his voice, trembling with insecurity.

"You don't have to tell me," I whisper.

"I want to," Carl answers, he takes a deep breath, and the rest of what he says sounds calm, a matter of fact. It all sounds like I've been gone for years, years where he's had time to sit and think, sit and except. "One of them had me on the ground... he was saying all these things, laughing, telling me not to struggle."

My grip on his hand tightens, but he tells me it's okay.

"Nothing happened," Carl nods like he's reassuring himself. "Dad gutted him, opened him up, gut to throat."

"Good," I sit up, my head leaving his shoulder. I watch him.

"I guess," Carl smiles weakly.

"I'm here," I tell him. Not sure if there's anything else I can offer. Wishing that there was.

"I know. Thank you."


The five minutes of rest have ended, the church is in the rearview mirror of the fire truck.

Tara has taken my spot on the back since Rosita doesn't want to worry about me all the way to Atlanta. So I'm now squished between Carl and the backseat window, his thigh holster digging into my leg. I don't dare complain, since Carl's sitting between me and an unconscious Eugene, the man's mullet every so often rolling onto Carl's shoulder, only to be shoved back.

I give Carl my hand when he looks like he's about to punch the mullet right off his unconscious head. Carl takes it, looking out the window to distract himself.

Opposite us, Maggie notices mine and Carl's hands, her's and Glenn's the same. She smiles at me, and I let myself smile back. Glenn and Carl, on the other hand, don't notice anything about anything. They just stare out windows and pretend that the truck doesn't smell funky from sweat.

Entering a city is a strange feeling. Like suddenly eyes are everywhere, every window, every rooftop, waiting to snuff you from the streets. The last city I was in was Los Angeles, right at the start. Typically the rule is that cities are bad news, but this is an exception. This is for our family.

We drive beneath overpasses and between abandoned skyrises. The ride feels smoother on the inside of the truck. Maybe that's just a perk of the city roads. The fire truck squeaks to a halt just outside the hospital fences. No guards in sight, the gates open, bodies of the long-dead littering a wasteland courtyard.

We walk through the unshut gates. Michonne takes down a walker with a single blow, Glenn taking the next.

We move forward, guns up, facing the hospital doors ahead.

When we found Beth was alive, there were only smiles of relief, not tension. On the long drive here, there was no tension either. Up until our feet touched the worn road, there was only composure.

Now, as we reach our goal, passing ripped medical tents and rotten corpses, approaching the glass double doors of Grady Memorial, with the end of the road in sight- I can hear the tension as it drips from us like sweat. I hear the grip Carl has on his gun as it tightens, the laboured breaths from Maggie, the pounding pulsations of blood ringing between my eardrums.

We all stop, frozen to our spots as silhouettes appear on the far side of the hospital entrance. The glass doors swing open, and the whole city holds its breath, waiting for the tension to fall.

Rick leaves the building, his grey shirt stained with blood. Sasha follows after him, seeming angry and solemn at the same time, her face stern. Then Tyreese and Carol appear. Both of them looking beaten, Carol with bruises around her skin and a limp defining her walk. Tyreese, with his eyes sunken as he holds Carol up.

I feel my shoulders drop, everyone's here, all of them appearing one by one, all until the very last, Daryl walking out, a body in his arms.

Maggie's rifle clatters to the floor beside me as she stumbles forward a few more steps, choking out a gasp.

It takes longer for me to recognise Beth, her limp body in Daryl's arms. Her head rolled back, red dripping.

Everything is gone again.

Beth's head is open.

That hope is just hurting now.

Maggie lets out a gut-wrenching scream as she hit the floor, Glenn trying to hold her as she wails over the sight of her little sister's corpse.

Beth is dead, and the road awaits us with yearning.


AN-

Rest In Peace to the girl that didn't want to grow up.