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Bucket Hat — Awe, I'm always broken after the "red fair"... writing it and re-reading it never got any easier. It would definitely be adorable... and who knows what the future holds...

Alexandria looked like one of those miniature towns inside a snow globe, a gentle dusting of delicate flakes swirling around it's lit-up houses, all huddled together as if to stay warm against the frigid air.

Someone brushing the frost from the town's sign with a broom told them to use the back gate since the front one had frozen shut this morning.

Rhys had been walking with Carol most of the way since they both seemed to long for a little quiet. When she gently tapped against his elbow, just as they passed through the gate Scott had opened for them, he turned to her a little surprised.

Her face was sunken and grey.

"Do you know what you'll do after this?" she asked.

Rhys breathed into this low sigh that he used as his answer. He didn't really know if he had anything better to give as one.

Carol fixed the bow on her shoulder, her thumb hooked under the string.

Rhys realised she was waiting for him to speak.

"Do you?"

She shook her head. Knowing her answer, but getting left in the same place that Rhys' had silence left him. She watched him with eyes pale as the snow beneath their feet.

"I really do hope you figure it out, Carol."

They both looked when they heard Michonne fussing over Judith, and calling out for RJ, who was hiding behind a mound of snow that had drifted up against the base of a tree. Rhys let slip a tired chuckle when she rushed over to fish the little boy from the snow and lift him in her arms.

Carol looked back to Rhys, her eyes wet. "He wouldn't hate me, would he?"

Her voice trembled a little but found its footing. Rhys knew she didn't want to ask him, but he also knew he was the only other person in the world that understood besides Ezekiel.

"I don't think he knew how to hate people."

Carol buried her chin into her teal blue scarf, her eyebrows hidden beneath the matching woollen beanie keeping her head warm. She nodded.

Rhys watched Carl fall to his knees to clutch his siblings, trying his best to stay upright without having to lean on them too much.

"What happened?" Judith asked, worry in her wide blue eyes.

"I could ask the same," Carl mumbled, pointing to her matching blue cheeks.

"It's cold," she laughed.

"It is."

They laughed together. Neither of the Grimes kids very good at being cold.

Everyone stood still, taking a moment to breathe and watch as Judith and RJ started trying to bury their brother in the snow.

Then Daryl suddenly scooped up a snowball and tossed it at Judith's back, and the giggle he let out at the shock on her face as she and RJ started chasing him around in circles with a barrage of snowball attacks made a lot of the last few days seem a little bit better.

Then Michonne hit Rhys in the face with a tightly packed snowball.

Sasha's eyebrows skyrocketed.

Lydia and Carl were giggling and snorting at him.

Aaron roared with laughter.

Rhys stared at her, eyes wide between blinking out the snow caught in his eyelashes.

Michonne was grinning until she watched Rhys slowly sink to his knees and begin to scoop up snow between his hands.

"Hey... no, that's not—"

THWACK

It was suddenly all out war.

Sasha was stuffing snow down the back of Daryl's poncho. Aaron tried defending himself to no avail as Carl, Michonne, and Judith bombarded him with flying snow grenades that exploded into his beard. Lydia screamed and cackled with laughter as Rhys chased after her with a snowball in each hand and an evil grin on his face. RJ and Carol did their best to overwhelm Scott as he ducked behind a tree for cover.

Before long, they were soaked, and Rhys' sides hurt from laughing after being forced to call for surrender when Carol threw a snowball so accurately that she somehow managed to get snow all down the back of his neck.

"No surrender!" Carl laughed, tackling him to the ground where their imprint was deep and not nearly the shape of them with all the struggling.

"Now's the time!" Daryl called, handing a snowball each to Judith and RJ.

"Noooo!" Rhys shrieked between laughs, "Sasha!"

But Sasha was cackling, hands on her knees, and doubled over as she watched. "Don't go easy on him!"

Everyone was laughing as Carl held Rhys arms by his sides so Judith and RJ could get to his face, where they smushed enough snow to build an igloo up his nose.

"We'll come back from this. Being here at Hilltop, amongst our family is a start. We'll make it through this winter of our discontent. When the snow melts and the winds quiet, who knows what glorious summer may bring."

"Maybe you can even go back home to the Kingdom," Judith told the King over the radio.

"Just because we left our house doesn't mean we lost our home."

"Roger that," Judith said, glancing over her shoulder to where Carl and Rhys were sitting at a table playing cards. Carl gave her a look, pointing at his wrist. "I have to go do my homework now. I'll tell my mom you said hello. Oh, and I think Rhys wants to talk to you. Over and out."

Rhys folded his terrible cards in defeat to Carl and went over to where Judith had been seated in the labyrinth of equipment hooked up to the long-distance radio.

"Hey, Zeke," Rhys said, holding down the button on the base of the mic.

"Rhys... I'm glad to hear you all made the journey."

Rhys nodded, even if the King couldn't see it.

"Thanks for helping hold down the fort."

"Guess it was the least we could do."

Rhys glanced at Carl, but he was unsubtly avoiding eye contact by shuffling the cards for the sixth time. Rhys turned back to the mic.

"I just wanted to let you know that Lydia is settling in," Rhys said. "She seems... happy, I guess."

There was a brief pause.

"You have a good heart, son."

"See you in a few days, Ezekiel."

"See you soon, Rhys."

Sasha and Rhys stayed at Alexandria for an extra day like they had planned. Rhys spent his time looking after Carl, who had unsurprisingly come down with a cold after the trip from the Kingdom. When Carl would start to feel like a burden and shoo him away, Rhys would trudge through the snow-laid streets to Rosita and Gabriel's house, where he and Rosita would brainstorm baby names for what she had been calling 'The Bean'.

"You can't actually name him Bean," Gabriel had grumbled.

"Firstly, she's going to be a she. And, secondly, It's my baby. I'll name her Gumbo if I want," Rosita shot back.

"As this kid's padrino, I can't allow you to call them Gumbo," Rhys interjected.

"Okay," Rosita scoffed. "Then we'll call her Socorro. My mamá's name, it's been in our family for generations."

"Coco for short," Gabriel said, nodding. "Because she'll be sweet."

Rosita scoffed. "Sweet... but she's gonna kick ass."

Sasha spent her time in Alexandria doing almost the opposite of Rhys, working in the stables, the kitchen, or on the wall — anything to not feel like she was freeloading. She had dinner with Scott in the evening and left early to sharpen her axe for the journey to Sanctuary the next day. Mikey had found her there, perched on a low brick wall by the crackling embers of Alexandria's modest forge.

"Excited to go home?"

Sasha shrugged, paying close attention as she carefully guided the whetstone down the blade.

"Need company?" Mikey asked.

Sasha stopped mid-stroke.

"No," she said sharply. "Worrying about keeping Rhys alive is stressful enough."

Mikey chuckled, stuffing his hands in his pockets and nodding. "You know Aaron's had half the guards here come up and offer to help you guys get to Sanctuary tomorrow."

Sasha's eyebrows knitted together as she went back to her axe. "Why?"

"I knew you wouldn't get it!" Mikey laughed triumphantly. "Aaron owes me his Ohio licence plate!"

"Get what?"

"Get that everyone here respects you immensely. I mean, besides you just being you... Negan talks about you like the boogyman to the people on shift outside his cell. 'That lady almost stabbed my eye out when I had her prisoner' this, and 'she infiltrated the Sanctuary and nearly blew my brains out' that."

"I didn't get near him in Sanctuary. I don't need that asshole building some legend for me."

"Either way," Mikey said, still smirking, "everyone thinks you're a badass."

Sasha chuckled, shaking her head. She put the whetstone down, slotting her axe into the loop on her belt as she stood up. "Rhys and I don't need company tomorrow. We could use some time for just the two of us after everything that's gone down. But if we did, your door would be the first I'd knock on."

Sasha could sense all the sadness Mikey was hiding behind his smile.

"How are you holding up?"

Mikey considered lying.

"I miss her a lot," he said instead.

"Enid and I got on because she was like me... she didn't suffer idiots," Sasha said. "She called you an idiot all the time."

"Thanks?"

"But," Sasha continued, "she talked about you all the time and loved you so much even after all those years you didn't see each other. So as someone that doesn't suffer idiots, she must have cared about you a lot to suffer you."

"I think you meant for that to sound nicer?" Mikey asked, a little red under the glasses.

Sasha tried to smile at him, but it ended up making her look sadder.

Mikey nodded like he really understood that look. "I only just got to remember how much I loved her."

"I don't think you ever forgot."

It was early.

Rhys crept into the room, a steaming mug of goldish water in his hand. He set the drink down on the coffee table beside Carl, who started to stir under his mountain of blankets on the sofa.

"Sorry," Rhys whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

Carl smiled, his face still groggy, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He peered into the cup.

"What's that?" He asked, his voice nasally from his stuffy nose.

"Well, ginger's pretty tough, so I managed to pick some that the snow hadn't killed yet," Rhys said. "I added some sage, too... a little bit of mint. It might be disgusting, but it will definitely help your cold."

Carl struggled to hide his grimace after one sip. "I've barely even got a— a— ACHOO!"

Rhys frowned, handing him a box of tissues he'd found stashed under the sink. "Drink."

Carl noticed Rhys' packed bag by the door. "How long until you go? I'll get dressed."

Rhys waved his hands in protest when Carl tried getting up. "Me and Sasha are just gonna vanish if you're okay with that. She hates crowds, and I hate travelling with her when she's grumpy."

"You're not going to say goodbye to anyone?" Carl asked.

Rhys sat down beside Carl in his cocoon of blankets, wrapping his arms around his padded chest and squeezing.

Carl chuckled, resting his chin on Rhys' shoulder when he didn't release him from the hug.

"I've said goodbye to Judith," Rhys explained. "And I promised her I wouldn't tell you or Michonne that she's already awake... so you didn't hear that from me. I've said goodbye to RJ because Judith said it's terribly boring being the only one awake, and she enjoys the power of being an older sibling, so she dragged him out of bed."

"What about everyone else?"

Rhys sighed. "Saw Mikey earlier. Spoke to Rosita yesterday. I'm going to head to Daryl's from here... I want to talk to her."

"Okay," Carl said. "Don't stress her out though, yeah?"

Rhys smirked over Carl's shoulder. "What do you mean?"

"She's been through it these last few days... years, really."

"Why would I stress her out, though?"

Carl laughed, and even that sound ill. "You can jus' tend to get a little... emotional."

"Sure..."

"I'm jus' sayin'."

"I really do love you... gotta to put up with this brutal honesty."

"Yeah, well sometimes you need it."

Carl sank back into the sofa when Rhys finally released him, batting his eyelashes. "I'll miss you."

Rhys scoffed. "I'll see you as soon as everything at Hilltop has settled down."

Daryl had been given a small apartment in one of the Brownstones, as was apparently his request. Rhys knocked on the door and waited. He heard barking and scratching on the other side, then Daryl hollering at Dog to quit it.

Lydia was the one to open the door. She smiled meekly at Rhys with a hint of surprise behind her, seemingly always, wide eyes. After a short moment of staring, she opened the door wider to let him in.

"How are you settling in?" Rhys asked, not bothering to take off his backpack, nor dust the snow from his shoulders.

Lydia nodded, hugging herself tightly. She was wrapped up in a jumper that looked more fit for Daryl as it hung loosely around her shoulders. "Fine. It's warm here."

"Hey, Rhys," Daryl called in greeting from the kitchen in the next room over. Rhys could smell some kind of food cooking. "You eatin'?"

"Erm..." Rhys called back, looking at Lydia with a worried look and mouthing, "What is it?"

"Squirrel and mushrooms," she whispered, laughing into her sleeve.

"I'm good, actually," Rhys called back at the kitchen. "Just ate breakfast."

He looked back to Lydia and smiled. "Thanks for the save."

"I don't mind his cooking," Lydia chuckled. "Better than smoked boar."

"See, that sounds good."

"I guess it was."

Rhys smiled at her again, trying not to look like he was forcing it.

Lydia looked like she could tell but was nice enough not to say anything. She leaned against the back of the sofa that was just behind her.

"How's Carol?" she asked.

Rhys looked over his shoulder like she might be there, only to find the still open door to the apartment. "She's better. I think living with Michonne and Carl will help. Keeps to her room a lot."

"She hates me," Lydia said, looking at her feet. "I think most people do."

"It's going to take time," Rhys said. "Once the people here see you're not your mother, they'll come around. Carol might not, though, and you have to be ready for that, too..."

"You sound like Daryl."

"He's right."

Lydia suddenly looked scared, like she didn't realise Rhys was the tiger that came to tea until right at that moment. "Why are you here?"

Rhys squeezed his hands together, blowing air out his cheeks. "Fuck, erm..." He stared at her blankly for a brief second before speaking. "Henry was really special. Really important to me, y'know."

"Me, too," Lydia whispered, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I'm lucky to have Sasha," Rhys said. "I know she's scary to everyone else, but she's the only reason I'm getting through this."

"Must be nice to have someone like that," Lydia said quietly.

"It is," Rhys answered, nodding. "And that made me realise how not nice it must be to not have someone like that. So, if you do ever need someone to talk to that doesn't use fewer words than Dog..."

Lydia glanced in the direction of the kitchen.

"But..." he paused to breathe deeply. "It might take me some time, too."

She nodded, biting her sleeve.

"But Henry called you family to me once, and that has to mean something."

Lydia nodded.

Rhys turned to leave, but he stopped.

"Everything okay?" Lydia asked.

Rhys turned back to her, pausing, then shaking his head.

"What is—" she started.

"Before," he said, "before we crossed the river— when you said Henry called you a good person, and you said he was wrong..."

Lydia watched and waited.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything," he told her.

She rolled her eyes a little, frowning. "You gonna tell me he was right?"

Rhys shook his head. "We've met a lot of people over the years... some tried to eat us or enslave us, some wanted to help us and ended up dying over it. Some of them were actually evil, and some of them were just good people that made it. I don't know if the evil ones were always bad. I don't really know if good people are always good. I think most of us are just... alive. We've all done shit things to make it this far. And we've done good things. You can't survive on just one or the other. Your mother is plain evil... and she won't make it. You're not her."

Lydia sniffled, hiding a little behind her sleeve. "Henry was plain good."

Rhys nodded. "Yeah, he was."

The roads were hard and sheeted by ice under thick snow. Dusty slipped his way along them, Sasha in the saddle with Rhys sitting behind her with his hand on her sides.

From Alexandria, with the rivers frozen over, it wasn't too far to Sanctuary. The whole building was shiny with frost and settled snow on the frames of broken windows.

"Rhys, wait up!" Sasha barked when he slipped off the back and started running for the factory doors before they had hitched Dusty.

Inside was still littered with set up tents and wagons, small barrel fires long burnt out and frozen over. The factory whistled with an icy wind that brought a shiver through Rhys's bones.

He rushed over to where they had put the horses.

The ones he could see were still. Curled up and still.

Sasha came in then. By the time she reached the corner of the room where they had stabled their horses, she saw Rhys leant over a horse bigger than the rest, his arms clutching to the icy fur and his body shaking as he cried.

"Rhys..." she whispered. "I'm so—"

"Sasha," he choked, looking up with his body still across Downy-Beardy's. "I can hear him breathing. He's still breathing."

She rushed to their side, checking by pressing her warm palm flat against the horse's nose and feeling the slow and faint puffs of air.

She jumped up, running towards one of the wagons. "Keep him warm. I'll get some wood for a fire."

Rhys' eyes were wet, and he clung to Downy Beardy's slowly rising body.

"Hold on, boy. Please hold on."

Sasha managed to get a fire started beside them, and after a while Downy managed to lift his head enough for Rhys to rest it on his lap.

Rhys watched as Sasha checked the rest of the horses, only to find two still breathing amongst the frozen corpses.

"He's going to be okay," Sasha told him. "They're going to be okay."