Chapter 104- Go Getters: Green for Release.

-Mikey-

Three Days Since the Lineup.

Maggie survived the journey to Hilltop. We all did. Carson has had her in his infirmary trailer since we arrived. She hasn't woken up, except for the occasional fever-ridden panic attacks at night, sweating through her sheets and screaming Glenn's name as she stares at nothing so intently that it might just become something. It scared me. Carson explained that she wasn't really awake, something to do with the mind not processing what happened. He told us the baby made it.

Sasha and I are sitting on the wooden steps outside Carson's trailer — like how we've spent all our time here. We came to protect Maggie. That's what we're doing.

Sasha's eating her way through an apple slice by slice with her knife. I'm scratching the last of Glenn's blood out of the jacket he gave me with my nails. The jacket's still too big for me, and I haven't put it back on since I took it off the day we arrived.

The trailer opens behind us. Sasha and I jump up, spinning to face it.

Maggie staggers out, her cheeks pale and her eyes sunken.

"You, uh... you okay?" Sasha asks quietly, holding the apple loosely by her side.

Maggie doesn't answer that.

"Where is he?" She asks instead. "Where are they both?"

No one helped us bury Glenn and Abraham. Someone even told us that we couldn't bury them, that Hilltop burns their dead. I had to get between Sasha and that guy, explain that they're not Hilltop's — that they're ours. The two of us buried them behind Barrington house. It was a quiet spot. It was nice. I'd pilled a little cairn of stones on the turned earth of both. Jesus has been putting flowers on their graves, green ones. He told me they're for release. I didn't ask what we're meant to release. I knew he'd tell me that we'd figure it out.

Maggie kneels by Glenn's grave after we lead her there, putting her hand flat to the dirt. Sasha stays standing over Abraham, her arms crossed and her face holding itself tightly, scared of letting anything slip.

I remember something, reaching into a pocket of the jacket Glenn gave me, pulling on a cool silver chain until a pocket watch slips out. I hand it down to Maggie. She takes it gingerly.

"It was in Glenn's pocket," I say quietly.

Sasha chuckles to herself. "All Abraham had was a cigar..." Then she's crying. Sasha always used to be someone I couldn't imagine crying — like Daryl or Rosita. Too tough or in the moment to fall for such quiet moments. But Sasha's like a dry waterfall or an ashless volcano when she cries — like watching the impossible. Over the last few days, I've seen her cry more than me.

Maggie presses the watch to her lips before laying it gently over Glenn's cairn.

"It feels like everything is wrong," Sasha mutters under her breath.

"Not everything," Maggie tells her.

Sasha arches her eyebrows beautifully and nods. "Carson told us that you're gonna be alright. He said you just have to take it easy for the next few days."

"He told me that we have to stay," Maggie says. "He says it's better if he's close. Just in case, 'till the baby's born."

Sasha glances at me. "Then we'll stay."

I nod.

"I'm still thinking about it," Maggie says.

"You're staying," Sasha tells her. "And so are we."

I nod again.

"Your brother will want you home," Maggie tells me.

"If he cares, he can come and get me," I tell her. "He won't... and I'm staying."

Maggie smiles like it's hard. Like she has to really try.

A voice comes from behind. "It's nice to see you up..."

We all look up to see Jesus approaching. Two fresh flower bunches in his hands, all green again. He explains the flowers to her, and she seems to get it more than I did.

Then Gregory's here, cheap suit and polished shoes.

I groan out loud.

"Thank god, you're finally awake!" he exclaims, marching up to us all. "You people said you got them all."

"We thought we did," Maggie tells him, hanging her head. "It was just an outpost."

Gregory looks like he might hurl. "How many of them were there?"

"There were a lot," Maggie says. "Maybe hundreds."

I feel like I could hurl.

"Do they know the deal you made us take, Marsha?" Gregory puts his hands on his hips, taking on this weird power pose.

"It's Maggie," Jesus scowls at him. Gregory rolls his eyes dismissively.

"No," Maggie answers Gregory. "And we didn't make you take the deal, Gregory."

"I'm happy we could patch you up," he says with a cheap smile and a pat to her shoulder like she just finished third in a foot race. "You need to go." He starts walking away. "Make sure you let Rich know what we did for you!"

"Doctor Carson said I should stay," Maggie calls after him.

Gregory stops, scoffing, walking back to us. "If he thinks he has the authority to make that decision, he's mistaken." He puts his hands on his hips again, his shirt-tucked belly hanging over his grey, suit pants.

Sasha grimaces at him.

"Don't look at me like that," he snorts at her. "They'll be safer with their own people. And we'll be safer without them." He points at Maggie and me. "You need to keep your distance from Maggie and her offspring and stay focused on your work here at Hilltop." He sees the graves that he's almost stepping on. "Did you do this? We don't bury our dead. We burn them!"

"Mikey and I did it," Sasha says, stepping closer to him, making Gregory to back up from the graves. "I don't live here."

He grimaces at her. "Who's Mikey?"

"Gregory," Jesus sighs, stepping between them, "this is Sasha. She got Mikey and Maggie here. They're all from Alexandria."

Gregory looks between us all like we're the same person.

"I— I can't—" He stumbles his words. "I don't have time to keep track of everybody!" He points at Maggie and me again. "I remembered Maggie and her kid from that damn ultrasound she managed to swindle out of me last time. I can't be expected to recall every face that—"

"That was Rhys," I say quietly. "I'm Mikey. I— I wasn't there for the ultrasound."

"I wasn't asking you, squirt," Gregory shakes his head.

Jesus frowns at him.

"I've been recuperating, too, Jesus," Gregory bellows. "From a stab wound! Maggie said that her people could take care of the Saviors. So far, all they've done is put our community at risk. You know if they see any of you three here, they'll think we colluded!"

"We did," Sasha smirks.

"I did not agree to this," Gregory snaps at her, pointing to the graves. "If they think we helped attack their outpost, they'll do that to us. Jesus, do you have any idea what plausible deniability means?"

"Not being able to be proven to know or be involved in something that happens under you," I answer.

"Yes," Jesus answers Gregory.

I look down awkwardly, forgetting that there's actually someone called Jesus in the conversation and that Gregory was asking him.

"It's our way out," Gregory says. "If they leave, we have plausible deniability."

"Gregory, it'll be night soon," Jesus pleads. "It's not safe for them to leave now. Maggie won't make it back. She needs time to rest."

Gregory scoffs, then says, "Look, I'm a good guy. You can stay a week. But no longer."

"We'll talk more about it tonight," Jesus says.

"No, I made my decision."

"I'm just saying that maybe—"

"Do you want to go back with them?" Gregory raises his eyebrows so high that his forehead folds.

"I'll take them back," Jesus answers with a firm nod.

"I meant—"

"I know what you meant."

"So it's settled," Gregory hisses, walking away.

"No, it's not," Sasha halts him again. "Maggie is pregnant."

Gregory throws up his hands and laughs. "Well, that's her mistake."

Sasha grits her teeth and marches at him, but Maggie stops her.

"Let it go."

Jesus asks me to help him bring clean bed sheets and pillows down from Barrington house to his trailer that sits just outside. Sasha and I had been sleeping in the infirmary to stay close to Maggie up until now, but since she's up and other people need the space, Jesus has given us his trailer for the week. We set up the bed for Maggie, and Sasha takes the couch. I nestle some blankets under the small table in the middle of the room.

"You sure I can't talk one of you into taking the extra room at Barrington House?" Jesus asks, looking at my nest under the table. "Maggie said she's fine here, so one of you two can take it."

Sasha doesn't answer.

"We're good," I say sheepishly, realising she has no plans on answering something she's already made her mind up over. "I think we would like to stay together."

I remember how Ron and I laughed when Sasha and Maggie's group arrived at Alexandria, how odd it was that they all slept in the same house for their first few nights. Now, the idea of space feels alarming, even in here, as I look around Jesus' quaint little trailer — the sink beside the bed and the little stove inches from the fire hazard of a couch.

"Thanks for letting us have this place," Sasha says.

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here," Jesus tells us.

I'm about to tell him thanks again, but Sasha speaks first.

"Then make Gregory change his mind."

"I'm going to try," Jesus tells her, picking up a basket full of his old sheets and heading for the door.

"It's not good enough," Sasha hisses at him.

He sighs, putting the laundry basket into my arms without asking. "It's not," he agrees. "But the people need me here."

"Why aren't you in charge?" I ask, peering over the laundry pile at his raised, bushy brown eyebrows.

Jesus's face flares up. "It's not me. I'm not a leader."

Sasha scoffs as she finishes setting up sheets on the sofa, sitting down on them.

"What if I leave?" Sasha asks then. "If Maggie and Mikey can stay here, I'll scavenge for the Hilltop. I'll pay her way if you just keep her safe."

"I can help," I offer. "I did patrols."

"No," Sasha snaps at me. "I'm better on my own."

I sink back behind the laundry.

Sasha turns back to Jesus. "Would Gregory go for that?"

"Maybe..." Jesus groans, shaking his head. "But I don't want that."

"What do you want, Jesus?" she asks him, watching him askance. "What do you want this place to be?"

He looks away.

"I just— I just try to help," he complains.

"Maybe you gotta do more..."

Jesus then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a silver chain with what looks like a broken shard from a taillight on its end. He hands the necklace to Sasha. I wonder if he only did it to get out of the conversation.

"This was Abraham's," he tells her. "I found it here."

Sasha's blinking away tears as quickly as her rage had bubbled up moments ago.

"I'm sorry," Jesus says. "I liked him. He was one of the only people I'd ever met that could make you smile and wince at the same time."

"I once asked him why he killed some Saviors we came across," Sasha says, holding the necklace close-knit between her fingers. "He told me it was 'cause loose ends made his ass itch."

We find the strength to laugh at that.

There's a knock on the door.

"Come in," Jesus says.

Maggie opens up the door and climbs into the tight living space.

"I made the bed for you and laid out some clothes," Jesus points out. "They're mine, so they're more utility than comfort. I tried to find some for you too, Mikey, but most of the kids here are bigger or smaller than you, so—"

"Thanks," I smile. "I'm okay."

"We won't be here much longer," Maggie tells him.

"I'm sorry about all of it," Jesus apologises for the hundredth time today. "I'm gonna see what I can do."

Maggie nods, squeezing past him to stand behind one of the four chairs around the central table. "Why do you burn your dead?" She asks.

"The idea was just to keep going," Jesus tells her, a shrug in his shoulders that tells us he hasn't thought about it in a long time and too many fires since.

"What do you have to remember them by?" Maggie asks.

"Us."

Jesus tells us he'll stay in Barrington house before he leaves.

Then three outnumbered Alexandrians sit at the table. We let out a collective sigh.

"Now what?" Maggie asks the room.

Sasha chuckles. "Maybe we stay... I mean, what the hell can Gregory do about it? Mikey could take him."

"Thanks?" I tilt my head at her, not sure if I'm insulted.

"No offence," she says.

"Gregory's in charge," Maggie tells us.

"He's an idiot," Sasha corrects her.

"He's a coward," Maggie adds.

"My mom used to say that there's nothing more dangerous than a cornered coward," I tell them. "She said it about Ron's dad after he killed mine."

"Mikey's right," Maggie nods, humming in agreement. "We have the night. Let's think on it. Things will be clearer in the mornin'."

I try sleeping but end up just tossing and turning from then until it's dark. Sasha even trades places with me when it gets to midnight, but when I drop onto the sofa, I realise it's not that keeping me awake.

"What's your name, kid?

Christ... You. Are. Pathetic.

We'll work on that.

I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with, but I am a man of my word.

I need you to know me.

Back to it.

No exceptions."

Suddenly, there's a screech of electrical feedback outside the window. I must have gotten some sleep because I have to open my eyes. I sit up, listening to the high-pitch tone. It sounds like Aiden's CD player when it used to get too hot from him using it all day.

Sasha and Maggie wake up, too. Loud classical music starts to play outside, booming through the night.

"What is that?" Maggie throws back her sheets, her and Sasha both rushing to the windows.

"Beethoven," I mumble, recognising it. "Symphony nine, second movement."

"Huh?" Sasha looks at me.

"Nothing," I shake my head as I get up, imagining my dad's obsession with classical music won't come in too handy right now.

"The gates are open," Sasha says. "There's fires... the music's coming from a car. Shit, walkers are getting in."

Maggie tries the door, but it's been locked. Sasha does the same with the windows, getting the same results. I peer out the window she did, seeing what Sasha described. A small green car blasting Beethoven is parked in the middle of Hilltop. Pallets have been set alight and dotted around the community, lighting up the scene against the cloudy night sky. My jaw clenches when I see the open gate, dozens of walkers spilling in.

"How the heck—" I start.

"I have to turn that thing off," Sasha cuts me off, hitting her fist against the glass.

"Up," I say, pointing to the trailer's little skylight.

"Good thinking." Sasha pats my shoulder as she uses it to support herself in climbing onto the table. Maggie lifts a chair up for her to stand on. When Maggie tries getting up with her, Sasha seizes her arm. "Doctor Carson told you to stay off your feet."

"I can't let you do this by yourself!" Maggie urges.

"Sit," Sasha orders.

Maggie bites her tongue.

"I'll— I can go... I can go with her," I stutter, my hands shaking violently.

Sasha shakes her head. "Hell no. I told you I'm better on my own. Both of you stay here!"

Sasha's up and out before we can argue.

Maggie doesn't waste time following her, and I don't want to stay alone, so I trail her up.

The night air is hot, and Sasha is already down. The smell of burning gas is overwhelming from the fires.

I watch as Sasha takes out the first walker of many.

Despite the heat, I'm shivering.

"Jesus!" Maggie yells up to the Barrington house balcony where he and two others are standing. "Sasha's alone down there! She needs help!"

Before I can blink, Jesus vaults the railings of the second-story balcony and slides down one of the supporting pillars, landing gracefully on the grass and roundhouse-kicking a walker to the ground.

"You two!" Maggie yells at the other bystanders. "Get those gates closed!"

"On it!" one shouts back, both of them opting to take the stairs down instead.

I look back to Sasha, who has a walker bent backwards over a broken fountain, pushing her knife up through its jaw.

I see a walker behind her. One that she doesn't.

My feet try to move, but I don't let them.

"Christ... You. Are. Pathetic."

His voice is in my head, worming its way in.

I shrink, knowing he was right.

"Jesus!" I use my words instead, pointing at the walker behind Sasha. He sprints for it, tackling the corpse just before it can grapple her.

Sasha makes it to the car, which I can see now by firelight; it's armoured, caged by metal and spikes covering the windows. She tries the doors, but they're locked.

Maggie shakes me by the shoulders, pointing to a tractor at the far side of the community.

"If we can get that goin', I can flatten the car and stop the music. Doesn't look like there are too many walkers if we go around the big house."

I nod but shake my head, too, looking down at the walkers and their meat grinder teeth. "I— I can't. I can't."

Maggie's already climbing down.

"That's okay," she coos. "Just keep an eye on Sasha and Jesus... shout out to them if something sneaks up on them."

"I— Maggie. I—"

"Can you do that, Mikey?" She urges.

I nod.

"Good. You got this."

Then she's gone.

I yell out a few more times like Maggie said to do, and Sasha and Jesus keep killing the walker. I can't tell if they can even hear me over the music, but I keep yelling.

Maggie makes it. The tractor chugs to life, and the little green car groans and creeks when Maggie backs a giant and crushing wheel over it.

The music slurs out.

The two guards get the gates shut.

Sasha and Jesus clear up the dead.

The night goes silent.

A/N

I hope it's not too distracting to jump between all three storyline like we have so far this season! I promise it's going somewhere and I have it planned to all come together pretty soon in a way I think is pretty satisfying.

Spent thirteen hours in the stuffy lobby of an airport on Tuesday evening, so I got this all done pretty quick.

Next Time: Chapter 105: Hunting.