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BabySlothXYaoi- Aha, there is some really fun slang, and I hope to use more of it in this fic... glad it's enjoyable to learn about! And yeah... I just fecked up with whisp... I've changed it to be more fitting to what I actually meant, I genuinely just thought the word meant something else, *facepalm*. Using words like 'whining' is why I love writing for Carol, she's just so damn complicated and layered, and difficult to read, she always seems pissed at people that don't see her way. Ohhh you have no idea about the forgotten stuff Rhys has in his pockets... too much, just too much. I won't spoil my fave, but it's not Negan... I'm excited for Rhys to meet my fave though, they'll have some stuff in common, let's just say that. Poor Aaron, I think he's got a long way to go before hugs. Thank you for the kind words!


When Maggie opens the door fully, I almost fall over backwards, stumbling away as a man in a blue raincoat and a checked shirt is revealed to be standing behind her. There's an awkward smile resting across his clean-shaven face, neatly trimmed, curly brown hair above it. Sasha stands behind him.

I reach behind me, pulling my gun to point at the man. Every click in the world comes from behind me, letting me know I'm not the only one with this reaction when Maggie and Sasha bring the stranger inside.

Daryl pushes past me, then the man, looking beyond the doors for anyone else, closing them when he finds nothing.

Rosita puts a hand on my chest and pushes me back, stepping forward with her own gun raised. Carl reaches out, tugging me back even further by the hem of my jacket to stand with him behind a small stockade wall.

Carl lowers his pistol slightly.

I definitely do not.

The man tries to look friendly, but not one of us believes him.

"Hi," he addresses us, sounding confident, but his eyes show a wary fear. Like he's not sure if we'll bite.

Judith takes one look at the stranger and immediately starts to wail in Rick's arms. I see this as a plausible cause for us to shoot the man.

Rick gives Judith to Carl.

The stranger that Maggie introduced as 'Aaron' steps forward with his hand out, stopping when he's almost shot eleven times over, putting his hands up instead.

Maggie gives Rick Aaron's gun when our leader asks for it, holstering his own to inspect the smaller revolver.

"There something you need?" Rick finally asks him, slipping our new gun into his belt.

"He has a camp nearby," Sasha answers for the oddly clean man. "He wants us to audition for membership."

This is ridiculous. What would we even do? We can't act or juggle. Maybe we could scrape together a decent band...

"I wish there was another word," Aaron tells us with his hands still up. "Audition makes it sound like we're some kind of dance troupe. That's only on Friday nights." he chuckles at his joke.

No one else finds it funny.

"And, um- it's not a camp," he goes on, "It's a community."

Community for all. Sanctuary for all. It plays on repeat in my head. Then I shake it. We already did that, we arrived, and we survived- barely.

"I think you all would make valuable additions, but it's not my call."

I see Daryl's finger itching against the trigger of his newly cleaned crossbow, daring him to give it a go.

"My job is to convince you all to follow me back home," Aaron doesn't seem to find what he's saying funny now. Like it's not a joke anymore.

Rick starts tapping his hand against his holstered revolver, impatient with this guy's blabbering.

Aaron seems to catch onto this. "I know. If I were you, I wouldn't go either... Not until I knew exactly what I was getting into."

He turns to Sasha, "Could you hand Rick my pack?"

Sasha does.

"Front pocket, there's an envelope."

Rick pulls it out.

"There's no way I could convince you to come with me just by talking about our community. That's why I brought those."

Rick opens the envelope to find black and white pictures. I peek over his shoulder, barely able to make it out before Rick lets them hang down to his side.

Aaron smiles. "I apologise in advance for the picture quality. Um- We just found an old camera store last-"

"No one gives a shit." Daryl was the first to speak from all of us. Speaking for all of us.

Aaron turns to him, "you are absolutely one-hundred-percent right." Turning backing to Rick. "That top one is the first picture I wanted to show you. Because nothing I say about our community will matter unless you know you'll be safe... if you join us, you will be. Each panel in that wall is a fifteen-foot high, twelve-foot wide slab of solid steel. Framed by cold-rolled steel beams and square tubing. Nothing alive or dead gets through without our say-so."

I tune out since it all has to be a lie. It would be a waste of energy to listen.

Aaron smiles at Rick. "Like I said, security is obviously important. In fact, there's only one resource more critical to our survival... the people."

Rick looks back to Michonne, then Carl. They both give him the same look back. Neither seeming to know what to make of the insane situation.

"Together, we're strong." This is the funniest thing Aaron's said yet because he's not strong. He hasn't seen it. He hasn't done what we've had to.

"You can make us even stronger." this is the most truthful this Aaron's said.

Rick starts to approach Aaron.

"The next picture you'll see inside the gates. Our community was first consruc-"

Rick cracks Aaron across the face, knocking the man out cold, stopping the lies from spilling out his mouth.

Most of us breathe out, glad of Ricks answer.

"Tie him up," he points to the unconscious Aaron, flexing his punching hand.

"So we're clear," Michonne tells Rick, her eyes wide, "that look I gave you wasn't a 'let's attack that man' look. It was a 'he seems like an okay guy to me' look."

"We gotta secure him," Rick shrugs her off, turning to me instead, "Dump his pack, let's see what he really is."

I nod in response, grabbing the bag from the ground where Rick had tossed it, taking it to a table at the back of the barn, Carl following with Judith.

"Rick-" Michonne tries again.

"Everybody else," Rick goes on, ignoring her. "We need eyes in every direction... they're coming for us. Might not know how or when, but they are."

I think about what Rick told Carl and me back at Gabriel's church.

'You are not safe...'

I unbuckle the pack.

'No matter how many people are around...'

Opening the bag, I can't see what's inside.

'Or how clear the area looks...'

I tip the content of Aaron's bag onto the dusty table at the rear of the barn.

'No matter what anyone says, no matter what you think...'

I wait for the dust to settle, to see what he really is.

'You are not safe.'

Two bottles of water - Toilet paper - A crystal-looking candle holder - Two jars, one with honey, the other a creamy paste that smells of apples - One spoon - A small toy hippo - A flare gun, unloaded.

Carl looks at the small orange flare gun, Judith still in his arms. "Weird gun."

"It's for signalling help... signalling other people," I tell him, sounding worried.

"What did you find?" Rick approaches.

I hand him the flare gun, and he nods.

I can hear Aaron laughing to himself from across the room. "That's a hell of a right cross there, Rick," he smiles.

"Sit him up," Rick tells Maggie.

She hesitates, "I think it's better if-"

"It's okay," Aaron tells her, trying to lean upright, his hands tied behind his back now.

"He's fine," Rick dismisses her. "Sit him up," he repeats.

Aaron opens his jaw wide, a cracking sound comes from it, leftover by Rick's strike.

"You're being cautious. I completely understand, and-"

"How many of your people are out there?" Rick ignore the guy's understandings.

Aaron doesn't answer. The first time he's been quiet.

Rick keeps talking, "You have a flare gun. You have it to signal your people. How many are there?"

"Does it matter?" Aaron's getting nervous now.

"Yes. Yes, it does." Rick whispers menacingly.

I don't know when Rick's intimidating side stopped scaring me, but I realise it has.

Aaron swallows. "I mean, of course, it matters how many people are actually out there, but does it matter how many people I tell you are out there?"

He makes a good point.

Aaron continues, "I'm pretty sure no matter what number I say... Eight."

Daryl looks at the door nervously. Glenn's hand hovers to his gun, as he peers out a window.

"Thirty-two."

I glance around, feeling a chill run up my spine.

"four hundred and forty-four... zero. No matter what I say, you're not going to trust me."

"Well, it's hard to trust anyone who smiles after getting punched in the face," Rick tells him.

Abraham chuckles at this, going quiet when Rosita shoots him a glare to shut up.

"How about a guy who leaves bottles of water for you in the road?"

Rick looks around angrily, spotting the two bottles of water from the guy's pack, realising that the 'From a friend' note we found in the road, before the storm, was from this guy.

"How long you been following us?" Daryl points a dirty finger at Aaron.

"Long enough to see that you practically ignore a pack of roamers on your trail."

Roamers? That's a stupid name.

"Long enough to see that despite a lack of food and water, you never turn on each other. You're survivors, and you're people. Like I said, and I hope you won't punch me for saying it again... that is the most important resource in the world."

Rick grits his teeth, growling his question with a silent yet thunderous rage, "How many others... are out there?"

I realise in this second that Rick does still frighten me, my jaw clenching at his words.

Aaron looks him dead in the eyes. "One."

Rick doesn't believe him, and Aaron sees it. "I knew you wouldn't believe me. If not words or pictures, what would it take for me to convince you that this is for real?"

Not one of us has an answer to that question.

Aaron sounds like he's pleading more than convincing now. "What if I drove you to the community? All of you? We leave now... we'll get there by lunch."

"I'm not sure how the sixteen of us are going to fit in the car you and your one friend drove down here in," Rick states. I'm starting to see the cop in Rick now, as he tries to find holes in Aaron's story.

My heart jumps a little when he says sixteen, then I realise he's counting Aaron. I feel upset and stupid.

"We drove separately. If we found a group, we wanted to be able to bring them all home. There's enough room for all of us."

"And you're parked just a couple of miles away, right?" Carol pitches in.

Aaron's nodding at her, clawing at the idea of someone listening to him. "East on Ridge Road, just after you hit Route sixteen- we wanted to get them closer, but the storm came, blocked the road, We couldn't clear it."

Rick nods his head, "Yeah, you've really thought this through."

"Rick, if I wanted to ambush you, I'd do it here," Aaron tells him, "You know, light the barn on fire while you slept, pick you off as you ran out the only exit."

Sounds like he really has thought this through.

Aaron takes a deep breath, looking around, trying to make eye contact with everyone. "You can trust me."

Everybody stands still, staring down at the helpless man tied up on the barn floor. All of us terrified of him, despite his situation of disadvantage.

Michonne grows tired of the interrogation, telling Rick, "I'll check out the cars."

Rick corrects her. "There aren't any cars."

She argues, "There's only one way to find out."

"We don't need to find out!" He barks.

"We do!" Michonne snaps. "You know what you know, and you're sure of it, but I'm not."

"Me neither," Maggie seconds her.

Rick chews on their responses, grimacing at the taste. "Your way is dangerous. Mine isn't."

"Passing up someplace where we can live? Where Judith can live? That's pretty dangerous." Michonne isn't giving up, and Rick can see it. "We need to find out what this is. We can handle ourselves. So that's what we're gonna do."

"Then I will, too," Glenn agrees after a silent conversation made from a short stare with Maggie. "We'll go."

Rick shakes his head disapprovingly. He turns and calls across the increasingly claustrophobic barn, "Abraham."

The giant man, who has been staring out a window this whole time, turns, grunting in response, "Yeah, I'll walk with them."

Rick turns again, "Rosita?"

"Okay," she nods. Her hands on her hips, her expression seemingly unreadable.

"If there's trouble, you got enough firepower?" Rick ask Glenn while Rosita and Abraham start grabbing guns.

"We got what we got."

Rick gives Aaron's small, well-cleaned revolver to Glenn in response.

Glenn takes it.

Daryl picks Aaron up, dragging him further into the barn.

"Walkies are out of juice," Rick tells Michonne sternly, "If you're not back in sixty minutes, we'll come."

Michonne nods in agreement.

"Might be just what they want," Rick warns her.

She leaves without another word, everyone in her team following.

Rosita pats me on the shoulder before going, saying, "Don't be stupid."

"I won't," I nod at her, determined not to be.

Rick addresses the rest of us, "If we're all in here, we're a target."

Everyone nods in agreement.

Rick thinks for a split second. "All right, groups of two... find somewhere outside, safe, within earshot."

I notice the numbers are odd before anyone else does, looking to Rick. "I'll stay with you," I say.

Rick turns to me, then to Aaron, then back to me. "Okay."

Sasha leaves with Daryl, both of them looking glum. Tara and Noah pair up, talking about how crazy the situation we're in is as they leave. Eugene follows Carol out when she leaves without asking anyone to be her partner.

Carl heard what I told his dad, asking me, "Rhys, can I talk to you outside?"

I nod, following him out. Gabriel, who's left without a partner, waits for Carl near the distant tree line awkwardly.

"You're staying back?" Carl asks me.

"Yeah, I'm trying not to be stupid, like Rosita said."

"That the only reason?" Carl cocks an eyebrow.

I sigh, "I told you last night... I'm trying to slow down."

"Okay," Carl draws lines in the dirt with his booted toes, a small smile on his face at my answer. "Do you think this guy is for real?"

I watch Carl for a while before answering him. "I don't know. I mean, my gut says no, but my gut's been wrong a lot recently."

Carl understands what I mean.

"But I trust your gut," I tell him. "If you say we're going... I'll back you."

"I don't trust him either," Carl tells me. "But I don't think he's lying. Plus, I trust Michonne."

"More than your Dad?"

"Sometimes..."

I pull him in for a hug, holding on tight. After pulling away, he looks around, only Gabriel in eyesight. Carl kisses me.

"I'll see you soon."

"Stay safe."


I walk back into the barn once Carl and Gabriel disappear beyond the trees. I still need to pee, but I ignore it, sticking to fidgeting.

Rick's crouched over a bowl of acorns, trying to crush them with his revolver's grip while Judith cries, sat on his knee.

I stand awkwardly for a minute until Rick sees me. "Rhys, could you take her while I-"

"You did see the applesauce in my bag, right?" Aaron looks between us desperately, tied to one of the barn's posts.

Rick ignores him, instead beckoning me over, handing me his daughter so he can crush the acorns with both hands.

Judith keeps crying as I hold her. I start to search around desperately for Gwendolyn.

"This isn't a trick," Aaron urges. "This isn't about making you try to like me. It's self-preservation. Because if the roamers hear her and come this way, I know I'll be the first to go."

Rick lets out an irritated breath, holsters his silver python, grunting as he stands up and walks over to Aarons belongings, grabbing the jar of applesauce and a spoon from the packs front zipper. He then approaches Aaron, holding out a spoonful in front of his face, gesturing for him to taste it.

"You think I'm trying to poison your baby daughter?" Aaron looks horrified. "I'm tied up, and you've already expressed a willingness to stab me in the head. How would cruelly killing your daughter in front of you in any way help the situation?"

I find the toy giraffe by the campfire from last night, Judith throwing it aside when I hand it to her, screaming her head off now.

Rick keeps holding the spoon in front of the man's face. "Maybe she doesn't die. Maybe she gets sick. Maybe you're the only one that can help her, and I just lose."

"I am the only one who can help her," Aaron insists, holding his head as far from the applesauce as his restraints will allow. "Because I have applesauce, and we all win."

Rick just pushes the spoon closer.

"I hate applesauce," Aaron blurts out, starting to sweat. "My mom used to make me eat foods I didn't like to make me more manly... salmon patties, applesauce, and onions. She was a very confused woman who tried her damnedest!"

Judith keeps wailing, and I can hear a walker outside. But its growling stops soon after. I imagine Sasha took it out from wherever she's hiding.

Rick keeps the spoon where it is.

"I just brought the jar to show that we have apple trees nearby!" Aaron damn near yells.

"Rick, I'll try it," I offer, leaning away from Judith as she screams into my ear.

"No," he growls over his shoulder at me.

"It's fine, really I don't mind-"

"No!"

But it doesn't matter because Aaron swallows his childhood trauma and eats the applesauce from the spoon.

Rick finishes what's left of the spoonful before handing me the jar and spoon, letting me feed Judith before she brings every walker in the state.

"The community is big enough," Aaron breaths out, sounding exhausted, scrunching up his face from the taste of apples. "We can find a place for you to live where even when she cries... no one, nothing can hear it outside the walls."

"You have forty-three minutes," Rick checks his watch. I guess I must have missed what happens when it's up, but I can guess.

"Rhys-" Rick calls me over to a secluded corner of the barn, keeping our whispers out of earshot from Aaron.

"You're thoughts on this guy?" Rick asks in a hushed tone.

"Me?"

"You," he confirms my doubt.

"Michonne and Carl think he's telling the truth..."

"That's not what I asked."

I sigh, giving Judith a spoon of applesauce when she tugs on the bracelet Carl made for me. "I think you're right... I don't think it's worth the risk. Like I said at Shirewilt, people are what keeps hurting us."

"Good. You're right." Rick nods, sounding oddly relieved at my answer. "Even if this guy is telling the truth, it's still risky."

I go silent.

"Why did you offer to eat the applesauce if you don't trust him?"

I shrug, "Because he doesn't seem to be the type of guy that poisons babies."

Rick responds with a sigh. Like he's just remembered that I'm a child, unable to understand that evil people can look like good ones.

I go on, "And I never said I don't trust him. I just don't think it's worth the risk."


A/N

Went back and added some stuff into chapter 40 about Carl having a fear of thunderstorms... 'cause he does, I just forgot to put it in... whoops!