Everything got worse once Michonne left.

Night fell, and the room was pitch black, and being there only reminded me of right back at the beginning. There would be nights when I would huddle up on the sofa and listen to the walkers as they passed, some even coming close enough to scratch against. The only difference between then and now is that it was silent.

As I sat there, I wished I had exerted more energy that day so I could convince my body that I was too exhausted to stay awake. But nothing could calm the jittering as I waited, listening for the scratches and the groaning outside the walls.

But the groans never came.

As my throat dried up, I reached aimlessly for the metal canister I had placed in the dark. The second I felt the cold metal on the back of my hands it was too late, I accidentally pushed the canister over. It hit the ground with loud metallic clangs!

"MOVE!"

Smoke filled my lungs as my throat closed up, and I was gasping deeply for a breath. They were on top of the car, using a latch we missed. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I gripped my shirt tightly, but I didn't fall to the ground.

The lack of movement I felt was enough to bring me back to the darkness of the room, the wall I touched was drywall—not metal. I gasped again, the only thing true about what I just saw was the tears on my face and my inability to breathe at that current moment.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it," I whispered repeatedly, as my hands gripped the pillow now instead of my shirt. "You're not there."

Again I reached for the bottle, the metal scraping along the concrete floor as I pulled it back to me. I lifted it to my lips and forced down sips of water as I sucked in air through my nose. As I pulled back, sucked in another deep breath, slower this time, as I made sure to puff out my chest and push my shoulders back so the air reached the bottom of my ribcage. I held it there for a second, until it hurt, before pushing back out.

There was movement from the other mattress, a low guttural sound emanating from his corner as the pain struck him. I wasn't surprised, seeing the amount of plasters he needed for the cuts on his face, the lump that was probably forming where Michonne hit him, I'm just glad I wasn't physically involved in the fight.

He lifted his head, looking around the room in a dazed state from the little I could see. Finally, his eyes landed on me across the room.

"It's like the train car."

I clenched my teeth, pushing my fingers into my temples as hard as I could as I breathed out—because I had been in that train car since Michonne left. When it took me a long time to answer, I hummed in agreement.

Rick swore, pushing himself into a sitting position. "What time is it?"

"Don't know," I mumbled. "Late."

"How come you're up?" He asked.

"I don't really like being locked up," I shrugged.

There was silence—an understanding. Rick said so himself when he woke up, the similarities between this place and the train car at Terminus. Little did he know that it was the only thing that crossed my mind since the lights disappeared and I was left inside my head.

Rick asked after a while, "What happened?"

"They put us in here to calm things down out there," I answered, guessing that the least I could do was give him an explanation. Though I couldn't say a lot, all I knew was from passing things I heard. "Rosita treated you, Carl came in for a while before Michonne sent him away and she left when the sun went down. She wanted to stay the night but I told her I couldn't sleep with her watching—" (not entirely a lie.)

Michonne left after lecturing me for an hour, which I imagined she'd do the whole night if she knew I'd be staying awake. But he would probably have his coming tomorrow. Hell, he was never going to get a lecture from all the people I did that day and he was luckier for it.

"I told them I took the guns," I said. "They don't know about the others."

"Why didn't you tell them?" Rick asked.

"Because Carol gave me a look," I said. "Because as much as I'm involved in this, you haven't told me if we still need them."

Nothing, no apology, no explanation. Nothing to even say about whether me taking the blame for it was the right move. Instead, he just stared forward, his eyes distant as he thought. I wondered if he even knew what he wanted anymore.

"Pete got a new house," was the next piece of news.

Typical. I aimed a gun at his head to stop him from killing somebody and yet here I was, while Pete got a nice new house. I had already blamed Deanna for siding with an abuser because he was the only doctor, but it seemed more and more like that was the case.

Rick whispered a curse, not about the situation, but because I dared bring up his name.

"They're going to kick us out," I stressed, hoping he'd see that his actions did this to us and not Pete.

Rick raised a brow. "Deanna said that?"

"Everyone's been dancing around a meeting tomorrow night," I said boredly. "They didn't have to say anything. I just guessed."

Deanna had one means of punishing people, and it was by exiling them. She wouldn't do that to her only doctor, but to two people who aimed a gun at her group, it was more than obvious. I could tell by how nervous Michonne was, and how angry she was getting when she spoke to me.

"You said they couldn't kick us out," I reminded him, feeling that promise slipping through my hands.

"They still can't," Rick said. "We still have knives, we can still take this place if it starts going wrong."

"Willingly?"

The tone didn't escape Rick this time, as hard as I had been trying to keep as level-headed as I could. "Are you mad at me?"

"Trying not to be."

I let out a sigh and leaned back against the wall, my hands falling in the bucket made by my legs. I couldn't be mad at him because I saw him back at the prison, the night he lost it—I knew how frightening that could be for him.

"If you have a problem, just tell it to me straight," he said in a harsher tone than he probably intended. I bit my tongue and stared forward, shaking my head. So he pushed, "Ace."

I snapped. "You want it straight, Rick? What the fuck happened to the fucking plan?!"

Rick recoiled, taken back.

My frustration was brought about by the nightmares I'd been experiencing, even while awake. I didn't need the gun today, there shouldn't have been a fight, and I did not need to have been in there with him. I did it to save his life.

"You told me—you told me to work with Pete, distract him, save Jessie from another beating," I listed off. "I didn't want to, but I agreed, didn't I? Because you needed time to clear your fucking head."

"He threw the first punch, he pushed me through that window." Rick's tone was sharp, cutting down my accusations.

I was in a cold sweat, and my mouth dried up as the room grew smaller.

"I don't care about who started the fucking fight, Rick! I had it handled, and you came there stirring shit up with Jessie. You asked me to be there, and I was. What's the point of dragging me into this if you were just going to beat the shit out of him anyway?" I tried taking a breath, but it didn't help. "I shouldn't be in here."

"You were already a part of this," he pushed air down with the palm of his hand, a gesture meant to remind me that I had been involved in his scheme since the beginning. "I didn't drag you into anything."

I chewed the inside of my cheek for a moment. "I agreed we should take over Alexandria when they couldn't make it. But we can do that better if they trust us. Beating a man in the street is going to make them understand how bad it is out there? All you've done is prove their fears right—they think we're dangerous now."

"We are dangerous."

"I know that!" It was so difficult to talk to him when he couldn't understand—even harder when it felt like the walls were closing in on me. "That's not what I meant. We weren't going to just show them that; that's not how we take this place over. We were supposed to be smart about this. You can't just take the place without earning their trust or we would have to kill them all."

"They don't need to trust us," he argued. "They need to see that we're the only ones who can keep them alive."

"And how do you suppose we do that now?" I waved our arms around to our makeshift cell, my personal hell for the night. "That tantrum you had abolished any progress we've made with these people. They're scared of us, scared of you."

"And they love you," Rick said, not a question, but in a tone that made me want to scream. "You've made such an effort to earn their trust. Leaving the party early. Grabbing Tobin."

"You're right, I love working with sexist pigs," I said just as sarcastically, emphasising that word so maybe he'd see where I was coming from. "And I left the party early because I was in the montage of my greatest hits, all the times I was going to die: title of my new book. It was an attack, if I didn't get out of there I would have broken down crying on the ground."

Even telling him that now, remembering how I felt in that moment made my chest go tight. I stood abruptly, grabbing the bottom of my shirt and flapping it away from my body to fan myself.

"Fuck me, it's hot," I whispered to myself.

I couldn't sit there anymore. I crossed into the other side of the room where the exit was, and dropped to the ground to see if there was any kind of breeze that came in under the gap in the door. I sat over there instead, trying to stop myself from tearing the drywall straight from the beams underneath.

Rick breathed out, seemingly calming down. "I snapped."

"I know you fucking snapped, Rick!" It didn't matter whether this was over for him, I was at the peak of my adrenaline. "I know because I was the one that helped you last time it happened. Or did you forget?"

Rick's jaw clenched, his eyes expressing a mixture of anger and guilt, "I didn't forget."

"Could have fooled me."

"What do you want me to say? I messed up, Ace," he said.

"Yeah, you did. And now I have to sit in here in the dark and keep telling myself that this isn't the train car, that I can't take in a full breath for no reason," I clenched my teeth and shook my head, leaning it down into my hands as my knees came up in front of me. I sucked in a breath through the gap between my palms. "I needed you to clear your head. I need you to tell me what to do because I can't—"

I tried to show the desperation I was feeling because I didn't care what he thought about me at that moment, I just wanted out.

"I needed your help."

And he couldn't have known that, because I didn't tell him, but it was true all the same. I'm glad he didn't move because I wasn't sure I could have him in my space just then. I didn't need another thing making this room more cramped than it was.

"But hey, you get all the fucking help you want. Right?" I sniffed, drawing along the ground with my finger. "I don't get to just expect someone to help me when I ask or—or when I need them—" I stopped because a lot of those reasons were my fault. There were people there for me, Isaac and Abraham helped me that night. But every time I tried to talk to someone, thought about telling them there was something wrong with me, my throat hurt and I just wanted to cry. Like I did right now. "I don't get to just do things I want."

"Martinez took you climbing the other day," he tried gently.

"Yeah, it was great," I wiped the furthest eye away from him, dragging my hand down my face. "Came home early and everything because Glenn and Martinez were arguing. Lucky me."

Because nothing was about me when I needed it to be. My first kills were ignored at Rick's first outburst, and my wanting to kill Eugene was thrown to the side when Maggie lost Beth and Daryl lost Beth. Even now, Noah's death and the plan to take this place were the most important things.

My people were there for me when it mattered, saved me from death and kept me protected. My problems, though, whatever was going on inside was never at the forefront of a conversation—not until very recently.

Maybe because nobody knew what to do about it.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Rick asked after a long silence.

"I can't—" I breathed a shaky breath. "Whenever I do, I just . . . I end up like this." A hand came up and gestured around my face as I kept my gaze on the door. "I just break down every time something—every time I think something happens."

Still, he made no move.

I placed my elbows against my thighs and ran my hands over my face. Telling Rick was unnecessary for the moment anyway, but if he was going to bring up the party then we had to talk about it. But whatever was wrong with me, it currently did not affect my work, what he needed me for.

"I tried telling you at the party," I said. "The stamp—I just went back. And then it kept happening, the rest of that night I just—" I breathed out, the air stammering against my curled lips. As I tried to take another breath, the air shot in through the sob. "I had to go."

"I didn't know."

"That's why I—I just dropped it."

"I would have helped, Ace," he tried. "I would have done something."

"You wouldn't—wouldn't have, not with the w-way you've been lately," I waved him off and his face crumpled as he realised I was being honest. "It doesn't stop me from being useful, it just stops me being me."

Or, at least, who I was.

Someone who was able to speak at parties and hold their tongue when the situation required. Someone who should have known to leave the gun in their room so they didn't get themselves locked away in a room facing attacks.

"I love you the way you are," Rick promised, "whatever way that may be."

"That makes one of us."

He straightened himself up, his leg falling flat on the mattress in front of him.

"Ace," he said softly, "come here."

Unable to stop the tears anymore I pushed myself up and walked over to him, sitting beside him on his mattress as he immediately pulled me into his side. His hand squeezed the top of my shoulder before rubbing up and down the length of my arm.

"I'm sorry. I don't have to tell you but I've been distracted with all of this. I should have been more focused on you and Carl and Judith . . ." he trailed off for a second, but quickly dragged himself back on topic. "I should have known something was wrong. You deserve so much better than what I've been able to give you."

I turned my head into his shoulder as I sobbed, my hand coming up over my face as the skin around my eyes began to vibrate and I tasted a tang of metal in my mouth.

"I love you," he said, leaning forward to look in my eyes as his other hand came up to wipe the tears from my cheeks. "Hmm? I want you to be able to come to me if something is wrong. I want to be able to help you," he squeezed my arm to get me to respond.

I laughed through my tears. "Just . . . talking ab-out it—it makes me feel so stupid."

"Don't." His fatherly sternness was something that I hadn't seen him use in a while. "You don't ever have to feel stupid about talking about the things that upset you, okay? You've been through so much, and I exploited a lot of it from you and I'm sorry about that. I just need to know when you're not doing okay."

Telling people when something was wrong had always been one of my biggest problems. Dad rarely knew either, not that there was ever as much wrong with me as there was now, after everything. But when my mam passed, we were both a little lost for a while—none of us could help the other.

"Talk to me," he said.

So I did.

I told Rick how I'd been since arriving here, even before, between sobs. I repeated what happened at the party, what I saw and the things Abrabraham said to me the night I had my attack. Even tonight, how the bottle sounded like the canister of tear gas that was dropped on us and I was back in the train car.

Rick just held me as I cried out all my problems, how I'd been feeling and how I didn't think it was ever going to get better than it was right now.

All Rick could do was hold me, tell me how much he loved me and how sorry he was for making me be a part of so many of the things we'd done, even now, the attempt to take Alexandria from these people in the way that he did it

After a while of silence, when my sobs were nothing but sniffles in the dark, Rick stretched up. "I could do with some sleep. How about you?"

I nodded.

"Okay," he pushed himself up and dragged the other mattress over to where I was lying. He left a gap between them, before taking the outside one that used to be mine. I laid down, handing Rick the blanket they gave him. "Ugh, my head."

"Michonne got you good," I stifled a laugh.

"I know, I can feel it," he grinned. "Goodnight, Ace."

"Night."

The nightmares didn't return for the rest of the night, but I did stir every few hours just from an inability to sleep. It was warm. Even on the empty mattress on the ground, I was still sweating, my hair curling at the back of my neck.

I was still asleep when Michonne returned the next morning. Looking over my shoulder, I squinted at the light and groaned, before my head fell back down to the pillow. Hopefully, Rick would wake up, because I didn't have it in my for another lecture.

"Sleep well?"

"No."

"Maybe next time you won't end up in here."

"Maybe next time Pete will get locked away for committing the same crime I did," I argued, not looking back.

There was movement beside me as Rick groaned and pushed himself up, seeing that Michonne had joined us. Instead of saying anything, he too, seemed to prepare for the lecture rather than saying anything or making small talk.

"We put Pete in another house," Michonne told him when it looked like he could understand words in his drowsy state. He just nodded, mumbling something about me already telling him, and Michonne tilted her head before taking a seat on the chair she had yesterday. "You could have told me what was happening."

"It moved fast. And then Noah," Rick waved an arm in denial, brushing off her claim. "I couldn't tell you about the gun."

"No, you couldn't," she agreed angrily.

"Oh, you wanted this place," he said.

Anger crossed her features as she looked at him. "We had to stop being out there."

"Well, we're here," he waved a hand to the room.

Michonne scoffed. "Well, you just said you weren't."

Interrupting them from further argument, the door opened again and this time I pushed myself up as more of our group entered. Glenn led them inside, followed by Carol and Abraham who joined us inside the rooms.

"How'd you take the guns?" Michonne asked Rick, assuming I lied about getting them myself. Even if she thought I did it myself, maybe she just assumed that the idea was Rick's and that's why I kept my mouth shut beyond telling them I'd done it.

"You got her to sneak into the armoury?" Carol raised a brow, playing the game she made me start yesterday. "That was stupid. Why did you do it?"

Rick seemed baffled for a moment but shook his head and pursed his lips. "Just in case."

"Deanna's planning to have a meeting tonight," Glenn changed the subject, "for anyone who wants to."

"To kick 'em out?" Abraham asked.

"To try," Carol corrected.

She was so adamant, still so confident in taking this place even with the events Rick caused and the fact that we were both still in here.

"We don't know that." Glenn barely looked back over his shoulder before disagreeing with her. "Maggie's with Deanna right now, she's gonna find out what it is."

"At the meeting, you say you were worried about someone being abused and no one was doing anything about it," Carol explained. "You say you took a gun just to be sure that Jessie was safe from a man who wound up attacking you—You say you'll do whatever you want them to. Just tell them a story that they want to hear, it's what I've been doing since I got here."

"Why?" Michonne asked, her arms crossed over her chest.

She shrugged her shoulders and looked back over her shoulder to the door. "Because these people are children and children like stories."

"What happens after all the nice words and they still try to kick them out?" Abraham asked.

"They're guarding the armoury now," Glenn said to no one in particular, just a general announcement that we couldn't get any more guns if we wanted to try and get the plan into action again.

Carol still has two, at least I thought she did, or she would have come out and said that she took the guns herself. If she was hiding it, still telling a story, then she was bound to be hiding the others somewhere while they thought they had gotten them all back.

Why nobody checked the logs is beyond me.

"We still have knives," Carol said. "That's all we'll need against them."

Rick nodded. "Well, tonight at the meeting, if it looks like it's going bad, I whistle. Carol grabs Deanna, I take Spencer, you grab Reg," he pointed to Michonne, who looked thrilled that we were still planning something like this. "Ace, Glenn and Abraham cover us, watch the crowd."

"We can talk to them," Michonne argued.

"Yeah, we will," Rick said. "If we can't get through, we take the three of them and say we'll slit their throats."

"Like at Terminus?" Glenn asked.

"No, we just tell 'em," Rick said. "They give us the armoury and it's over."

Glenn chewed the inside of his lip for a moment as he thought about how quickly that plan came into action, before asking. "Did you want this?"

"No. I hit my limit. I—I screwed up. And here we are," everyone was silent as he admitted to his mistakes. " Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just gonna sleep some more."

I looked at the others. "Am I allowed out yet, or no?"

They were silent, glancing at each other, before Carol said, "Give it some more time."

Cool.

Great.

I followed suit, copying Rick and laying back down on the mattress before closing my eyes.

Rick and Carol had another talk about the plan while I slept, and when they woke me up they said that I was allowed to go back to the house. My stomach grumbled on the way back, hungry, I hadn't eaten since the day before.

Before we entered the house, Rick pulled me to the side, between the two buildings we still held claim of.

"I have another gun," he told me. "Carol brought it to me."

I cocked my head to the side. "Just now?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I wanted to let you know, give you all the information before something happens at the meeting tonight."

Pursing my lips, I thought for a second. "Do you even want something to happen tonight?"

Sure, taking Alexandria would make life easier for us, but the tension would be caused inside the group. There could have been retaliation, which meant we'd have to take measures to avoid letting that happen, something that would show them we don't trust them, causing even more disturbance in the group.

Rick shrugged his shoulders. "Carol seems to think so."

I pushed out a sigh. "Make sure you figure that out before tonight."

"Okay," he obeyed.

With one final warning glance, I stepped out from between our houses and walked up the porch to go inside. I needed food and a change of clothes. As we walked up to the door, I saw Carl rush up to us through the window. As Rick walked inside, Carl hugged him immediately.

"Dad."

"Hey," he said.

"You okay?" Carl asked, addressing both me and Rick.

I just gave a nod and walked through to the kitchen to get something to eat. Carol must've had something ready for when we got back because some food was already out cooling with two plates left over for us to have.

"Yeah," Rick said and followed my steps. "Look, I'm sorry."

"I heard about the meeting," Carl said, and Rick stopped before the kitchen.

I grabbed the plate and a fork and stayed in the doorway to the living room.

"You're staying home," Rick told him.

"That's what it is now, right?" Carl's eyes flicked between the two of us, as he asked, "Home?"

Maybe not for long. I shovelled some food into my mouth to avoid the question. I wasn't sure if this plan was going to work, or whether Rick even wanted the plan to work. There was a chance that he didn't want to try and take the group by force, but there was a doubt in my mind that he would just let us lose.

"Yeah," Rick finally answered.

Carl nodded, but he didn't seem convinced. "They need us—they'll die without us."

"I might have to threaten one of them," Rick warned him. "I could have to kill one of them."

"You won't." The denial was instant.

"I might," he tried again.

"You have to tell them."

"I told them last night."

"You have to tell them so they can hear you," Carl was adamant.

Rick leaned down to look him in his eyes as he said quietly. "I don't know if they can. Does that make you afraid?"

"Just for them," Carl said, and repeated, "You have to tell them."

Rick nodded, probably just a way to move on from the conversation because I knew as well as he did that talking to these people didn't commonly work out that well. He mumbled something about needing to change, which I did too, but my room was in the opposite direction to his, on the ground floor.

As Carl watched Rick disappear up the stairs, I turned back to my room, but the footsteps followed me instead as I pushed my door open and set my food down on the bedside table. He remained in my doorway as I walked to the chest of drawers. I picked up a top and examined it, deciding what I wanted to wear instead of the top I had now—one I'd used to conceal a gun

"Are you alright?"

"Fine," I nodded. "Do you know where Isaac is?"

Carl gave me a frown with a tilt of his head as if to ask what would you need to see him for? "I saw him earlier, I think. He was walking towards the gate."

Probably gone to sit around the pond again, somewhere where he could be alone without staying in the room he shared with Noah. I needed to speak to him before the meeting, not to get him to say anything good, but to apologise.

I nodded gratefully, "Thanks."

After finally deciding on a top to wear, which was the yellow-striped tank top, I knelt to grab some jeans. It would probably be colder outside than it was in the basement cell, and these shorts needed a wash.

"Are you worried?" Carl asked.

I shrugged, grabbing the first pair of jeans I saw. "I think I'd prefer to be worried about them kicking us out rather than what's going to happen."

Because, now, seeing the way Rick just looked at his son reminded me that he was not going to lose this place for him. If Rick was made to leave, then there was a chance that most of the others would as well, and he was not going to let Carl leave the safest place he'd been since the world ended.

"Me too," Carl agreed.

"Don't worry about it, I don't think anyone is going to have to die tonight," I lied. "Alright?"

He nodded. "Okay."

"Come on," I shooed him out. "I need to change."

Carl was gone when I left to find Isaac, leaving the house and turning right at the crossroads. As the trees came into view, I picked up the speed and raced down towards our spot. I didn't want to hang around any of these other houses—I didn't know where they put Pete.

Isaac was drawing when I found him, in his old notebook I could tell by how close he was to the end. When he heard my steps, he looked up and closed his book, placing it down beside him on the jacket he was sitting on.

"I'm sorry," I called out immediately, slowing to a walk.

Isaac stood, readying himself, but he didn't say anything. His arms remained steady at his sides as he shifted his weight, but he didn't say anything. I begged in my mind that he would just say something, so I knew what he was feeling.

So I tried again. "I'm sorry."

"What do you think I'm mad about?" His tone was casual as his head flicked to the side just for an instant. He sounded more curious than angry—but he was mad. He had every right to be for a magnitude of reasons.

"I'm ruining this," I answered, "our chances at this place, at being here."

Isaac blew out a huff as he shook his head. Whether it meant that he was angry to even hear it aloud or because I got the answer wrong, I had no clue. I could never tell what he was thinking. But why wouldn't he be mad that I was ruining this place and potentially forcing the group out, in his mind?

"No, Ace," he said but didn't go on to explain. Instead, his jaw set as he thought, considering his next questions, because it didn't seem like he was going to release me from this hell of guessing. Eventually, he cut through the whirlwind in my mind. "Rick's been trying to take this place from them, hasn't he?"

"No," I shook my head. "No, he only wanted to do it if Alexandria couldn't survive the way it was. If it was going to put us in danger."

(So actually, yes.)

"So what the hell happened?" He grew frustrated.

"It wasn't supposed to happen the way it did. This isn't the first time, Rick he—he gets to this point where he loses it and—" I shook my head. "It happened after he lost his wife, and he started seeing her. He terrified them, and I helped him, even after Woodbury and I—"

I took a shaky breath as I remembered Woodbury, what I'd done the night before Rick lost it. I ran my hands over my face and

"I saw it in him again, the way he was talking, his eyes. He was more manic this time, but it was the same—like with the Claimers," I flinched even as it came out of my mouth. "I didn't know how to help him. I was so caught up with stopping Pete that I didn't know what to do. I thought he was going to try and take the place there and then and I just . . . I froze."

Isaac listened intently, but he didn't try to stop me or talk over me. Was he mad that we were potentially going to kill members of this group to take over? He was closer with some of the people here than I was with anyone in Alexandria.

Finally, he spoke, "I don't think you're ruining this. And I don't care that you took the guns, or that you pointed one at Pete—the guy could go rot in hell for all I care," he snapped. We agreed on that at least, because I was definitely ruining this. "Why didn't you tell me about the guns? About any of it?"

I was shaking my head, the answer somewhere along the lines of not telling him because of how badly he wanted to come here, to stay here.

"I would have—" he stopped himself, taking a breath, and he was calmer. "I could have helped. If not I would have at least known." I swallowed as he continued. "I'm not as good at seeing these things as you guys. At Terminus, you—you and Rick—you just knew something was wrong. I don't see a lot of how things work around here, the run group, the construction workers."

I didn't realise he would have wanted to know something like that, if I did, I would have told him straight away. Isaac could have helped, he would have been useful in helping them gain our trust. He worked closely with Reg, the husband of the leader of the group.

"I don't want to be left in the dark until it's too late," he said. "And I don't want you to lie to me or keep secrets or choose what you think I should know. I don't care if Rick says not to tell anyone—" he pointed his finger between us. "This doesn't work if we don't tell each other everything, Ace."

"I'm sorry," I said again, quietly. "I didn't think . . . we started this before you and I—" I took a second to consider my wording. "Before we started talking again."

Isaac nodded. "I thought so, I just . . . I didn't want to let it go and have it keep happening."

"It won't," I promised. "So there's probably more you should know. Rick might try to take this place tonight." His face was neutral, and I cast a glance over my shoulder before continuing. "He's going to whistle if something goes wrong and grab Spencer. He asked Carol and Michonne to grab Deanna and Reg while me, Glenn and Abe watch the others."

Isaac thought for a second and frowned. "Do you have more guns?"

"Yes. Carol took them the night of the party. He has one on him, and she's hiding the other somewhere," I answered honestly, once again revealing another lie that I told the group. "But he's going to use knives tonight. They don't arm themselves."

"And he's going to kill them?" Isaac asked.

"Maybe—I hope not," my voice was quiet. "I don't know. He said he shouldn't have to, but there's a chance."

Again, silence, before, "Do you want to do this?"

I shook my head, pursing my lips as I shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think I have the capability to know that right now. I just know Rick said this is what we have to do, so I'll do it with him."

I waited on bated breath as he went quiet again. I thought he might yell or tell me that the plan was terrible, potentially killing someone because they were going to kick us out. We shouldn't have messed this up in the first place.

Instead, he gave a nod. "Okay."

Assuming that meant he was going to help us, or he at least agreed with the plan, I nodded in return. It was better, it was going to be better to tell him what was going on because at least that meant I'd have someone to talk to about these things.

"I'm not mad anymore," he said.

I lurched forward and hugged him, one arm over his shoulder, apologising repeatedly until he hugged me back and even after. I closed my eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. I didn't deserve him, he was being too patient with me while I fucked this thing up over and over again.

"I'm doing a horrible job at being a girlfriend," I said over his shoulder. "They should kick me out just for that."

"If they were going to make you leave, I'd go too." And that was his promise to me.

Isaac and I walked to the meeting together, finding the garden where we were first brought to be filled with people from Alexandria and our own family. They were the ones deciding whether me and Rick would be allowed to stay.

But it wasn't going to happen like that—it couldn't. That was what I thought until I searched for Rick in the garden, but to no avail. He wasn't here. How were we going to carry out the plan if he hadn't shown up? Even if Rick didn't want to take Alexandria by force, not coming to the meeting would make us look bad and maybe they would want to kick us out.

My heart raced as I considered the possibilities, but either way, I followed Isaac through the gate and stood with him next to the wall just past Abraham. I had not hidden my worries well because Isaac noticed immediately.

He leaned forward, blocking my view and giving me a concerned stare. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"He isn't here," I whispered.

Instead of answering he looked around, scanning the small crowd for Rick as he sensed my anxiety bursting out. I watched his head whip around, hoping he'd be able to just find him when his eyes turned back to me and this time they held a glint of concern.

"He will be."

"If he doesn't come and they say I have to leave . . . it'll be too late," I panicked.

Isaac shook his head. "She isn't going to make that decision tonight."

I knew he was right, Deanna didn't call this meeting just to decide whether or not she wanted us there, but I was starting to worry. If she was changing her mind, deciding that she wanted us gone, we couldn't stop her without Rick.

As I looked around, I saw Maggie also looking around worriedly. Glenn wasn't with her though, and on a second glance I could see that he wasn't here either, Glenn was supposed to help with the crowds, where was he? Abraham had the same worried look when I met his eyes.

"I can't see Glenn either," I said quietly. "Something's wrong."

"If something is wrong, they can handle themselves," Isaac told me.

"They were meant to be here."

"I know and so were we," Isaac said. "Just focus on that, if he isn't here he needs help convincing them."

Just as he finished talking, Deanna stepped forward. "We're going to start."

"Can we wait?" Maggie asked. "There's still people coming. Glenn, Rick."

"We're going to start, it's already dark," she repeated, practically ignoring the request. "We're going to talk about what happened. Not the fight, not what precipitated it—we're dealing with that. We're going to talk about one of our constables, Rick Grimes and mechanic, Ace."

Isaac reached for my hand as he kept his eyes forward, his fingers interlocking with my own subtly as he squeezed my hand once, letting me know he was there. I breathed in and out deeply, not looking at Deanna as she spoke.

"We're going to talk about how they had pistols she stole from the armoury, about how they pointed it at people. And we're going to talk about what he said," she recounted. "I was hoping he'd be here."

"She said he's coming," Michonne cut in, her tone sharp.

"I'm sure he'll be here," Carol agreed in a soft voice. "And I'm sure we can work this all out."

"Who would like to begin?" Deanna asked.

"I can," Michonne straightened up.

She flicked a hand to her, telling her to start.

Michonne took a second to think, before she said, "I was alone when Ace found me, gunshot wound in my leg, bleeding out. She was just a relentless girl who knew we could help each other when her people were kidnapped. But I could tell she would have done the same thing if she didn't need information from me."

My eyes turned to the ground in front of me, and I didn't look at her as she described a day I tried to block from my mind. Not because I regretted meeting her, but because of everything that happened after. Isaac was looking at me while he listened.

"I would have died if she left me there," Michonne explained. I could see out of the corner of my eye when her gaze flickered to me. "She saved me that day, not because they fixed me up, but she saved me from having to go back out on the road. Alone. I'd been on my own for so long before meeting them, all you can do is survive."

She looked at the crowd in front of her as she explained, knowing that none of the people in the chairs in front of us could understand what that was like. If they had been on the road before, they didn't act like it, and they needed to know.

"We went back out there once our last home fell, and we all had to do things to survive. Rick took the brunt of it." Rick shouldered much more than I ever could to survive on the road. "And after being out there and then not being how you were out there . . . it can drive you crazy." Michonne looked at the group. "Rick just wants his family to live. He wants all of you to live," Michonne said. "Who he is is who you're gonna be . . . if you're lucky," her eyes met Deanna.

Nobody said anything in return or asked any questions and Michonne leaned back against the wall she once rested against.

Carol stood up. "I'd like to go next."

"Okay," Deanna nodded.

"After we lost our home, we were on the road for so long," Carol said in the same voice that she'd taken with these people. "We were captured and locked in a train car. They took Ace and Rick and some others away and I—" she choked up. "I didn't think we'd see them again. When we did, when they came back for us, Ace was covered in blood. They both had to do awful things to keep us alive."

I didn't realise how much Carol must have seen before and after we left the train cars. She must've watched from the outside as they took us because I wasn't sure anyone told her any of that. I glanced up when Isaac squeezed my hand.

"Rick Grimes saved my life over and over. There's terrifying people out there. And he rescued me from them, they both did. People like me, people like us need people like him—like them," Carol turned to Deanna. "I know what happened last night was scary. And I'm sure he's sorry for that. But maybe we should listen to what he was saying."

Deanna nodded, but her expression didn't change. "Would anyone else like to go next?"

"Yeah," Abraham didn't move from where he was sitting on the table. "First time I met any of these people was the time Carol talked about, and I thought that hour was it. I'd seen people die for less, but they came back," Abraham said. "Simply put, there is a vast ocean of shit you people don't know shit about. Rick knows every fine grain of said shit . . . and then some. I respect what he and Ace have done to keep these people safe."

I was glad Abraham put in his two cents just to see the confused look on their faces as he spoke. I mean, if he couldn't convince them with his words then who could?

Deanna just waited this time for someone to volunteer next and Martinez, shockingly, stood up from his seat. Part of me expected him to not get involved the way he spoke to me the day before, "I started as an enemy of these people—my group used to kill to have control of the area and the supplies. You people are lucky you don't have anyone around like that . . . or that you haven't been found by any of them."

Because there were people around, there were always people around. We couldn't escape them just because we had walls.

"I know first-hand what these people went through. And the person who took their home from them almost took my life just a week before, just because he could," Martinez shrugged. "I found Ace after that, dehydrated and dying from the frontlines of a war. We didn't like each other, but we had a deal that I'd help her find her people and keep her safe while she healed."

It was a miracle Martinez had stayed so long the number of times I tried to hurt him when he found me, not a fight I'm sure I could have won if he hadn't taken pity on me.

"When we were attacked one night, the things I saw Rick do to protect his kids, his group—I left. I left because I knew I was on the other side of that, and I could be dead like the rest of them." I didn't realise that was the reason he left then. Rick had offered him to join us to go to Terminus, but that was before we had to fight the Claimers. "But when I went back to help them, I saw how well they protected each other when it really mattered. I thought, if I were one of them then I'd get that," he trailed off for a moment before saying, "something I haven't had in a long time."

I met his eyes, silently asking what he meant. Martinez had almost let slip to me that he had kids before, but he hasn't spoken about them since.

"Even after what I'd done, what I'd been a part of, they let me stay," Martinez finished.

Bruce asked, looking over his shoulder. "What did you do?"

"It's all on the tape my man," he answered coolly, "Deanna let me stay anyway. You take that up with her if you have a problem."

"Who's next?" She ignored the look from her people.

"I can go," Maggie said. "Ace Daniels saved my father before she even knew anything about him. He ran away when he was grieving, and she went with Rick and Glenn to bring him back. They were attacked by two creeps, and then their people. This was early on."

Months, barely. I'm not sure I had been so scared of someone at the moment than I had been with Tony and Dave, not not the Claimers, not Terminus—because in those situations I knew they were only going to kill me. The people we faced were brutally honest.

It scared me afterwards, what Martinez believed the Governor would do if he caught up to me, but at the moment, Tony and Dave were my biggest fears at the time. I'm sure Carl felt the same way about the Claimers as I did with the people from Randall's group.

"My father respected Rick Grimes. Rick is a father, too. He's a man with a good heart who feels the things he does, and the things he has to do. And all of us who were together before this place, no matter when we found each other, we're family now," Maggie told them. "Rick started that. And you won't stop it. You can't. And you don't want to. This community, you people—that family—you want to be a part of it, too."

I could see some of the eyes in the audience, staring at her with an understanding and consideration of her offer. While I didn't want any of these people to be a part of the family we had built, I knew we had to grow again and convince Alexandria that we weren't bad people.

"Before we hear from anyone else, I—I would like to share something in the spirit of transparency. Father Gabriel came to see me the day before yesterday, and he said our new arrivals can't be trusted, that they were dangerous, and that they would put themselves before this community. And not one day later, Rick seemed to demonstrate all the things Father Gabriel said," Deanna told them. "I had hoped Gabriel would be here tonight."

"I don't see him, Deanna," Jessie cut in, "so you're just saying what someone said. Did you tape him?"

"He's not here," Maggie agreed quietly.

"Neither is Rick."

Maggie was quiet, stewing, before she turned away. "Excuse me," she said and walked out of the garden.

Isaac released a breath and let go of my hand, before taking a step forward. "What he did wasn't to put us first."

Deanna turned to look at him. "What was that?"

"You said Rick demonstrated how he put this group before yours, that's what Gabriel told you," he reminded her, and continued to explain what he meant. "What Rick did put us at risk. When he found out about Pete, he could have just kept his head low and ignored the situation. He didn't do that," Isaac stressed. "Rick knew if he got involved it would cause friction and could have gotten us kicked out. He was protecting one of yours at that moment, not any of us."

Nobody said anything in return, which I could tell frustrated Isaac. This is why I knew I had to keep my mouth shut whenever somebody else spoke, or I'd tear my hair from my scalp as I grew more and more annoyed.

I reached for Isaac's hand and whispered a thank you.

Deanna turned to the others. "I know this conversation has mainly been about Rick and what his group have been through, and I thank you for your stories. But I think we should talk more about Ace." She waved a hand to me and I swallowed. "I wanted to give her leniency for her actions—she is young after all. But after rewatching her interview, I know that Ace is loyal to Rick. I don't think I realised how much until yesterday."

Francine shook her head. "This isn't a conversation, she's a kid. She and Abraham saved my life, no one here stepped in to do it."

"This is a conversation because she stole guns from the armoury and aimed it at a person," Deanna said.

Jessie shook her head.

"Aaron trusts Ace," Eric chimed in, "if you wanted an opinion from someone you know."

"Aaron isn't here today," Tobin cut him off.

"But he'd want me to speak up about this, tell his stories," Eric said. "Aaron sees the good in her, in all of them. When we saw a group that big on the road, I didn't know what to think, but he did. He spoke to Ace first that day, and she was in the car when they crashed into the herd. He saw what she was like on the road and he still trusted her."

Aaron trusted me when he really shouldn't have. Eric left out a lot of details that would have sealed my fate immediately: aiming a gun at him, kicking him in the back of his leg, shooting at him. But I remembered back to the warehouse, what he said, I don't intend on bringing it up when we get to Alexandria.

"I think he was right to bring them in," Eric said.

There was a silence amongst the group before Tobin gave his useless opinion. "Ace did threaten me on the construction site."

"Very brave of you, standing up to a teenage girl," Francine heckled, leaning back in her chair, eliciting a laugh from Martinez behind her. "And you'd be able to live with yourself by sending her back out there?"

"It was hard enough being safe as a girl before the world ended," Jessie agreed.

"Aaron won't do it," Eric said, agreeing with them. "He won't drive her out there like the others."

Loosening my grip on Isaac, I straightened up. "I'll save you all the theatrics. It doesn't matter what you decide to do with me, because if you make Rick leave then I'll be going with him either way."

Deanna ignored what I said almost entirely and asked, "Does anybody want to address what Rick did yesterday?"

Tobin, unsurprisingly, was the one with an opinion. "It was a shock when Rick had that gun on him, and for a moment I thought he might shoot someone," Tobin said. "If he loses it like that again, it could actually happen. I just want to keep my family safe. You know? And I don't even know what that means anymore, but if it means that we've got to get rid of—"

He cut himself off as Rick appeared at the gate to the garden, covered in blood as he stared at the group, his eyes flickering to Tobin who was just about to admit to wanting to kick him out. I saw the body over his shoulder last.

"Rick," I called, relieved.

For a second, I thought he was carrying Pete, until he threw the body down on the ground, revealing a walker. Everyone yelped and were on their feet in seconds, but Rick spoke up, unphased by their reactions. "There wasn't a guard on the gate—it was open."

"I asked Gabriel to close it," Spencer said.

Deanna nodded. "Go."

Spencer ran out of the garden as Rick turned to address the group again. "I didn't bring it in, it got inside on its own. They always will—the dead and the living, because we're in here. And the ones out there . . . They'll hunt us. They'll find us. They'll try to use us. They'll try to kill us," he listed off, things that had happened to us already. Alexandria didn't know. "But we'll kill them, we'll survive. I'll show you how."

I couldn't tell whether this was convincing them, but when he said how the walker got in, I could see the crowd begin to get more and more rattled. They were beginning to understand how everything could fall apart in seconds, because of one person.

"You know, I was thinking—" Rick looked around before turning to Deanna and Reg, and continued in the circle to address the group. "I was thinking how many of you do I have to kill to save your lives? But I'm not gonna do that—you're gonna change." He looked at Deanna again. "I'm not sorry for what I said last night, I'm sorry for not saying it sooner. You're not ready, but you have to be. Right now, you have to be . . . Luck runs out."

As he finished, he turned around to look at me. I wanted to ask about Glenn before a voice cut me off, spilling out through the darkness.

"You're not one of us!" A figure came to the garden behind Rick. "You're not one of us!"

Pete waved his arms angrily when I saw the sword he had, and I straightened up. We would not be able to take him with our knives alone, not before he killed someone with the sword, he had the advantage. If Pete was going to kill, then Rick needed his gun.

Reg stepped in front of him. "Pete, you don't want to do this."

"Get the hell away from me, Reg."

"Pete, just stop."

"Get away from me," his voice was filled with madness as it wavered, and he tried to get around Reg. Deanna tried to call for her husband, "Reg, Reg."

I saw Rick's movements to his belt—he was reaching for the gun. Carol was the one to stop him before he could pull it out, and she whispered, "Not now."

"Get away," Pete said as Reg tried to get him to stop. "Get away!"

As Pete pushed Reg away, he brought the hand with the sword up and accidentally pushed the blade too far forward. Blood spurted out from his neck and Deanna screamed, but Pete didn't care about what he'd done. In all honesty, it didn't seem to register before Abraham could tackle him to the ground and Michonne claimed her sword back.

Isaac gripped my hand so tight, and all he could do was let out a shaky breath as he looked on. "Reg . . ."

"No, no!" Deanna was screaming.

The sounds he made, the gurgling, made me sick to my stomach.

"This is him!" Pete yelled.

"Shut up!" Abraham had him pinned to the ground with a hand pulled back, keeping his arm raised.

"This is him!"

I turned into Isaac, pulling him into a hug, and whispering repeatedly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Deanna was still sobbing as Pete was screaming out about Rick, and how he caused this. This is him, this is him. But the sounds Reg made slowly quietened down and it was undeniable that he was dead, only caused by the person with the sword.

"Rick . . ." Deanna looked up, tears in her eyes. Rick stared down at her, waiting before she finally nodded. "Do it."

Rick had the gun out in seconds, aiming it down and shooting Pete in the head. Jessie screamed, but it was too late. This had to be done, it had to be done if we were going to stay here, and if we had taken the place by force, it would have happened then too. I looked back over my shoulder to the body, a hand still on Isaac's arm as I watched Rick, waiting for his reaction.

"Rick?" A new voice called at the front of the garden.

When I looked to the gate, Aaron and Daryl were back, standing with a man who stared at Rick.

This is one of my favourite chapters that I wrote months ago. I actually really enjoyed writing Rick and Ace arguing with each other. I would have posted sooner, but the herd nonsense of Season 6 ends really weirdly which makes it hard to write; I've never seen a more boring episode with 1000s of walkers.

Alongside this, I now commute 2 hours away to university, which is two days a week for my masters and that means waking up at 6am a lot of the time to be there on time and I really hate driving. This with the fact that I've been really burnt out for a while meant I took a long break from chapter 59, so sorry.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed and let me know what you thought :)