Mid-season Finale!

Chapter 110- Going Home

-Rhys and Mikey-

The night is overwhelmingly dark. Shadows cast by the low light of the crackling fire dance across the boys' faces. They both squat beneath a fallen road sign that leans against a tree, keeping them sheltered from a black sky that patters raindrops gently onto the tree leaves and metal overhead.

Mikey has been staring at Rhys for the past few minutes, thinking about how he needs to tell him the worst thing in the world before the sun comes up. This crater is in his chest, sucking up everything else that crosses his mind.

A twig snaps a few feet from their shelter. A walker steps into the light of the fire's reach. Rhys gets up, ducking out from under the sideways sign and knocking an arrow into his bow, pulling the string taught and letting it fly. The walker falls to the ground with the arrow through its eye. A pool of blood gathers in the dirt around its head.

Rhys retrieves his arrow. His hair is damp and beaded with tiny water droplets when he gets back. He brushes it away.

"We should make it to the Hilltop before noon," Rhys says, shoulder pressed to Mikey's as they huddle under their metal tent.

Mikey listens to the rain gently tapping on the tilted sign above their heads. The smell of damp firewood and burning leaves fills his nose.

"Rhys," Mikey whispers.

Rhys stops cleaning the arrow he retrieved and glances over at Mikey.

Mikey holds his breath for as long as he can before letting it go.

"Glenn and Abraham are dead. Negan killed them."

Rhys doesn't make a sound. The gentle drops of rain are still the loudest thing in the forest. The occasional clicking of the Downy-Beardy's tackle overtakes it until the horse settles under the cover of the same tree the sign leans against. Rhys' face is illuminated by the rosy cast of the fire's modest flare.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Mikey says fast. "You were so happy at the Kingdom. I didn't want to ruin that— for that to be the place where you found out."

Rhys gently slides the arrow back inside of its quiver before he crawls into himself. He pulls his knees up to his chest, burying his head into them before wrapping his arms around to clench fistfuls of his damp hair. He's totally silent. Mikey watches as Rhys sizzles out — all the light he had found at the Kingdom snuffed out by the rain.

"How?" he asks very softly.

Mikey hesitates before answering.

"A baseball bat."

Rhys loosens the hold on his hair, bringing his head up. His nose is wrinkled up like he's focusing or confused. His eyes are wet and shine in the firelight. It could be the rain. It's not.

"We need to go to Alexandria," Rhys tells Mikey.

"But..." Mikey stutters. "Maggie and Sasha are at Hilltop."

"We need to go home first."

"Why?"

"To help the others."

"Help them do what?"

"Fight."

"I don't know if we can. Rick... he said that we would die. Negan broke him."

"I don't care," Rhys whispers, watching the flames hiss and snap. "Rosita, Maggie, Sasha, Daryl, Michonne, Carl... they'll fight."

Rhys goes quiet after saying their names. Mikey eyes him, but he can't see inside Rhys. Mikey can't see the tempest that's brewing in his chest. A storm of broken things much louder than the rain or anything in the forest.

"We'll go home," Rhys says again. "We'll get the others and—"

"Carl's not at Alexandria," Mikey gasps. "Nor is Daryl."

"What?"

Mikey dips his head. "Daryl's gone... and Carl... Enid told me he went after Negan. He thought you were dead. She said he wasn't planning on coming back."

"All the more reason to fight," Rhys retorts, his voice hoarse as he tries to ignore what Mikey just told him. His words are getting shakier, and his bottom lip starts trembling.

"Maggie needs you," Mikey tells him. "Sasha needs you."

Rhys' face is streaming with silent tears like the tempest he's sitting on is trying to drain from him, held back by blinking green eyes. Mikey knows that Rhys wants him to let him be angry. But Mikey also knows that if he gives that to him now, he'll never forgive himself.

"Go to Hilltop," Mikey tells him again.

"I can't just do nothing..."

"I'm not asking you to. I'll go to Alexandria. I'll tell the others where you are."

Rhys has no fire in him. His rage is all ice. He might share the flame's temper, but not its warmth.

"You're sure?" Rhys finally asks.

Mikey smiles slightly. "I need to go home."

-Carl-

The room Negan locked me in was dark and cold, and the sound of creaking pipes and shuffling feet outside my door kept me awake. The next day Negan drives us to Alexandria with a convoy of Saviors in tow. Rosita opens the gates when he honks the horn, and Negan takes me to 101, parking his black truck right outside. He clunks Lucille four times against the yellow paint, leaving deep tooth marks in the wood.

Olivia answers.

Negan breezes right past her and into the house, whistling those two notes. "Great, great, great!"

Olivia is staring at me. "Where's—"

"Enid's fine. Is Judi—"

"Where's Rick?" Negan speaks over our whispers.

"Uh, I— I just—" Olivia stutters.

"Don't care," Negan groans. "Where's Rick?"

She stands like a penguin with her arms by her sides and her chin up.

Negan taps his foot impatiently.

"Um, out scavenging for you," Olivia finally answers.

"Cool. I'll wait."

"He went out pretty far... they might not be back today." She starts shaking. "We're running really low on everything. We're practically starving here."

Negan's eyes go wide, and he looks her up and down. "Starving? You? By 'practically'..." he curls quotes into the air with his fingers, "you mean 'not really'."

Olivia burst into tears.

Negan laughs, looking at me with a perplexed grin. "Really? You people seriously don't have a sense of humour."

He spins back to face Olivia, who's clutching her face with her back to us.

"Excuse me," Negan says. "What's your name again?"

"Olivia."

"Right. Olivia." He touches her arm and gets her to face him, waiting for the tears to stop. "I am sorry for having been so rude to you just now. And it looks like I'm gonna be here for a while, awaiting your fearless leader's return. And if you'd like... I think it would be enjoyable to fuck your brains out. I mean, if, you know, you're agreeable to—"

She slaps him across the face.

Negan's head twists to the right. He shakes it, amazed at what just happened like no one has dared do that in years. He steps closer to her. "I am about fifty percent for into you now. Just saying."

Olivia trembles, trying to step back, only to bump into the dining table.

Negan backs off. "All right... well, I'm just gonna put my feet up and wait for my stuff to get here. Olivia, would you be a lamb and make us a lemonade? Now... I know I left you all some of that good powdered stuff."

"Well, I'm supposed to look after—"

"Make it!" he barks at her. "Take your time. Make. It. Good."

Olivia rushes out the front door, not daring to look back at him over her shoulder.

"All right, kid..." Negan points his bat at me. "Take me on the grand tour!"

I show him around the house. He takes off his boots, wiggling his toes in the carpet and playing with the kitchen taps. He finds Rhys' guitar in my room.

"You didn't tell me you played!"

"I don't."

"Well, that's a damn shame..." He frowns as he fiddles with the strings.

I avoid Judith's room, telling him it's a water heater.

"Seriously, kid?" he snorts, opening it.

Judith beams at us, standing up in her crib with Gwendolyn under her arm.

"Ohh, ho." Negan picks her up. "Look at this little angel!"

She starts to cry, but I can't do anything.

I tell him she needs a nap. That she's sick. Anything I can think of. But Negan ignores me, taking her outside with us and sitting us down on the porch rocking chairs. Olivia brings us lemonade.

"Oh, this little girl is precious!" Negan rocks Judith to sleep on his lap.

I start to feel sick.

Eric walks by, jumping a little when he sees Negan.

"Hey, neighbour!" Negan waves. "Why don't you come by later? We might grill out. Oh... I like it here. I might just have to stay here."

I shoot him a glare as he coddles Judith and Eric scuttles off down the street.

"Y'know, I was thinking about what you said earlier, Carl. Maybe it is stupid keepin' you and your dad alive." He speaks to me, but he's talking at Judith, propped up on his knee as he bounces her up and down. "I mean, why am I trying so hard? Maybe I should just bury you both down in one of those flower beds. Huh?" He grins at Judith, making her laugh. "And then I could just settle into the suburbs. What do you think about that?"

We wait for hours. Dad and Aaron don't come back in that time. Michonne's still gone. Saviors patrol up and down the streets. Arat is standing outside on the porch guarding the house. Judith and I are sitting on the edge of the bathtub in the bathroom, watching Negan shave with our dad's razor.

"Against the grain, kid," he hums. "Always against the grain."

When dad showed me, he always went with the grain.

When he's done, Negan groans about being starving, and before I know it he's making pasta sauce in our kitchen while I roll out the dough for the bread rolls he demands we have. I set the table when it's done, and then we sit. Negan drops in the seat at the head of the table, Olivia and me on either side. Judith lies asleep in Olivia's arms. Negan gets me to lay a spot for dad.

We wait.

Dad doesn't show up.

Negan's face goes sour. I wonder if the lemonade is too strong, but then—

"I'm not waiting for your dad anymore," he grunts, trying to look less disappointed than he clearly is. "I don't know where the hell he is, but Lucille..." Negan lifts the bat and sets it in the empty seat, "...is hungry."

Olivia is facing away from him in her seat. I know she's worried about Enid. But I can't say anything. Negan and the Saviors don't know that we know about the Hilltop.

"Carl..." Negan looks at me, "pass the rolls."

I just stare at him.

"Please..." he adds.

Reluctantly, I pass the basket of bread rolls down the table.

We eat, and after, Spencer shows up with a bottle of expensive-looking whiskey and a neat pair of pressed slacks. Negan and him go out onto the porch to drink. I use the Negan free moment to tell Olivia that Enid's at Hilltop and okay. She starts crying again, thanking me and holding Judith close to her chest. I realise that despite our heated relationship, Enid has always been more to Olivia than just a girl that lives in her house, and I can see right now how much she cares about her.

We put Judith to bed, and when I peer out the window after, the pool table from 105 is being moved into the street. Spencer must have told Negan about it because the two are setting up a game.

People have gathered in the street, Rosita and Gabriel at the front. Everyone is watching and waiting to see what's happening. Olivia and I step onto the porch to watch. My eye goes wide when I spot Mikey running towards the crowd from down the street, trying to push his way to the front. I try to get his attention, but he's watching his brother.

"I could never do this with Rick," Negan tells Spencer, chalking his cue. "He would just be standing there scowling, giving me that annoying side-eye he gives me."

"That's actually what I came to see you about," Spencer says, finishing setting up the balls. "I want to talk to you about Rick."

"All right... talk to me, Spencer." Negan breaks the balls. "Talk to me about Rick." Colours spin across the table, bouncing off corners and into pockets.

"I get what you're trying to do here. What you're trying to build," Spencer tells him. "I'm not saying I agree with your methods, but I get it. You're building a network. You're making people contribute for the greater good. It makes sense."

Negan takes another shot, moving around the table and avoiding brushing shoulders with Spencer.

"But you should know," Spencer continues. "Rick Grimes has a history of not working well with others."

Negan hits a ball, finally missing a pocket as they clack off each other. "Is that so?"

"Rick wasn't the original leader here. My mom was. She was doing a really good job of it." Spencer takes his shot and misses. "Then she died not long after Rick showed up. Same with my brother, same with my dad. Now I have to look after my kid brother alone. Because of Rick."

"So, everything was peachy here for what... years?" Negan frowns, twirling his glass of whiskey. "And then Rick shows up, and suddenly, you and your brother are orphans?" He puts down the glass and shoots. "That is the saddest story I've ever heard. Good thing for you he's not in charge anymore."

"Doesn't matter." Spencer shakes his head, holding his cue to the white ball. "His ego's out of control. He'll find a way to screw things up. That's what he did with my mom. That's what he'll do again."

Spencer finally takes his shot.

Negan sips his drink, stepping closer to Spencer, not paying attention to the game now. "What exactly are you proposing be done about that?"

"I am my mother's son. I can be the leader she was. That's what this place needs. That's what you need."

"So I should put you in charge... that's what you're saying?"

"We'd be much better off."

Mikey finally pushes his way to the front of the onlookers. "Spencer, what are you doing?" he yells, stepping forward only to be shoved back in line by Arat.

Spencer's face goes white as he sees his brother for the first time in weeks, but he hardens it when Negan speaks.

"Holy fuck!" Negan yells, pointing at Mikey, stunned, mouth so wide he has to cover it with his hand. "The pussy from career day is your brother? Man, he would not stop crying!" Negan rubs his shaved chin, grinning as he squints between the Monroes. "You know, I'm thinking, Spencer. I'm thinking how Rick threatened to kill me... how he clearly hates my guts. But he is out there right now, gathering shit for me to make sure I don't hurt any of the fine people that live here. He is swallowing his hate and getting shit done! That takes guts." Negan goes back to the table, shooting, scoring in the corner pocket. He puts down his cue and points at Spencer. "And then there's you. Y'know, it makes sense that you were the one that raised that pussy brother of yours, because you're the guy that waited for Rick to be gone so he could sneak over and talk to me to get me to do his dirty work — so he could take Rick's place. So I gotta ask... if you wanna take over, why not just kill Rick yourself and just take over?"

"What?" Spencer stutters. "No— no, I didn't— I don't—"

Negan holds up a hand to silence Spencer. He creeps closer until they're inches apart. "You know what I'm thinking? 'Cause I have a guess."

Spencer looks terrified. Mikey tries to get closer again, but Arat keeps him away. Negan leans into Spencer and whispers.

"It's because... you've got no guts."

Everything happens at once after that. Negan draws his giant knife and plunges it into Spencer's stomach. Olivia gasps beside me as blood sprays across Negan's leather jacket. Mikey shrieks. Rosita holds him back as he tries to scramble for his brother, her teeth gritted, and her eyes horrified as she watches. Spencer coughs out blood as Negan drags the blade across his stomach until his entrails tumble out his belly. Spencer catches his own guts, staring at them with a confused face as he drops to his knees.

Negan stands over Spencer with his blade soaked in crimson red. Spencer keeps fumbling with his entrails, trying to put them back into the gaping hole in his torso.

"Oh... how embarrassing," Negan croaks slowly, looking down at Spencer with blood splattering across his smirking face. "There they are. They were inside you the whole time. You did have guts. I've never been so wrong in my whole life!"

I shiver, watching as Spencer gasps for air, trying to speak.

Mikey's wailing. Rosita holds him as he thrashes and screams at Negan, who calmly sheaths his knife and picks Spencer's pool cue up from the ground. Rosita falls with Mikey when he finally stops and crumbles to his knees. He makes it to his brother's level and watches as Spencer clutches his bleeding insides and gasps at his little brother, retching over and over until he finally stops with a painful wheeze. Mikey sobs, strained groaning sounds fleeing him like he can feel what Spencer felt. Like it hurts more than Spencer hurt. Mikey tries to crawl closer, but Arat kicks him back.

Negan puts down Spencer's cue on the table and picks up Lucille from where she had been leaning against the pool table, watching. He points her at Mikey. "I am sorry, kid, but your brother was a cowardly fucking snake. Take this shit as a learning experience. That being a pussy... that shit is a no go when it comes to the new world order."

Mikey sobs, his shoulders rising and falling as he stares at his dead, gutted brother.

"Now..." Negan swings Lucille around. "Someone oughta get up here and clean this mess up."

Rosita glares up at him, still holding Mikey's shoulders.

"Oh," Negan chuckles, pointing Lucille down the crowd, passing her face like he had when Abraham's brains were on the end of it. "Anyone wanna finish the game?"

Rosita lets go of Mikey.

"C'mon... anybody?" Negan purrs.

She slowly rises to her feet.

"Anybody?"

Her hand goes behind her back.

"C'mon..."

Her face is stone and fire. Death and hate.

"I was winning!"

Rosita pulls a pistol. Silver flashes from behind her as she brings it up and fires before Arat or anyone can stop her. I think it's over. That he's dead. But Negan doesn't fall. He staggers back, wood splintering out of his bat as smoke pours up Lucille's frame from the bullet lodged in her spine.

"Shit! WHAT THE SHIT?!" Negan's screaming like I've never seen him scream. Panic riddles his voice.

Arat tackles Rosita to the floor, pressing a knife to her neck as she holds her down. Rosita doesn't fight back.

"Fuck! You just— You tried to fucking kill me?!" He storms up and down, spinning around and thundering towards Rosita, holding the bat above her as his whole body ignites with rumbling fury. "YOU SHOT LUCILLE!"

"She got in the way," Rosita hisses up at him through bared teeth.

Negan keeps seething as his panic and rage slowly simmer to a steaming composure. Blood starts to seep down Arat's knife as she presses it harder to Rosita's throat.

Negan finds the bullet casing. "What is this?" Negan barks, picking it up from beside Spencer's body.

Rosita doesn't speak.

"What is this?" Negan asks again, quieter but just as furious. "This little bad boy made from scratch? Look at those crimps. This was homemade."

I work hard not to let my eye go to Eugene. He's standing only a few feet from the raging Negan, hidden by words alone.

"You may be stupid, darlin', but you showed some real ingenuity here," Negan tells Rosita. "Arat, move that knife up, out on that girl's face."

Arat does. Rosita flinches as it presses below her eye and against her cheek.

Negan crouches down to hiss at her. "Lucille's beautiful, smooth surface is never gonna look the same, so why should yours?! Unless you tell me who made this..."

"It was me," Rosita breathes. "I made it."

Negan finds his grin. "You see, now I just think you're lying." Then his expression goes back to a scowl, his face unable to land. "And you lying to me now?!" he roars. "Such a shame. Arat's gonna have to cut up that pretty face. One more try..."

"It. Was. Me," Rosita grunts, sitting up and forcing the blade to slice into her cheek.

Arat peers back at Negan, but he's laughing. "Oh! You are such a fucking badass! Fine... have it your way. Arat... kill somebody."

"No," Rosita screams. "It was me! NO!"

But Arat spins, points her gun in my direction and fires. I fall back, ducking behind the porch bannisters and checking myself for holes. Then, with a thud, Olivia falls to the decking beside me. I scramble to her side, but her glasses are cracked in the right eye, a hole in her cheek where blood trickles down her expressionless face. She doesn't suffer the way Spencer had. She's just dead.

All the Saviors are pointing their weapons at us, but no one is fighting back. Shock swallows the street. Rosita looks like her world just shattered.

I stand up, seeing my dad rushing towards the commotion. He's under Aaron's arm, who is bleeding from his face. It looks more like someone beat him up than he's been fighting the dead. Eric rushes to help Aaron, holding him back as dad storms up to confront Negan alone.

"We had an agreement!" Dad shouts. I'm almost happy to see some of his rage return. It's been weeks since he's shown so much as a tooth.

"Rick!" Negan yells, his voice cracking. "Look, everybody, it's Rick! Your people are making me lose my voice doing all this yelling."

Dad looks around at Spencer's body and then at Olivia on the porch beside me.

"Rick..." Negan purrs, "how about a 'thank you'?"

Dad's chest rises and falls breathlessly. Aaron looks exhausted, too.

When dad doesn't say anything, Negan fills in. "I mean, look, I know we started this relationship with me beating the holy fucking shit out of your friends, and because of that, we're never gonna sit around and braid each other's hair or share our deepest, darkest secrets, but how about a little credit? I just bent over backwards to show you how reasonable I am."

Negan points up at me.

"Your kid... he hid in one of my trucks and machine-gunned a bunch of my men down, and I brought him home, safe and sound, and I fed him spaghetti."

Dad glares at me. I would sink into the cracks of the decking if it wasn't for Olivia's blood draining through them already.

"Another one of your people," Negan goes on, "well, he wanted me to kill you and put him in charge. I took him out... for you."

Dad looks at Spencer again, then at Mikey, crumpled on the floor like one of Rhys' music sheets.

"And another one, here," Negan points down at Rosita, "she shot Lucille, trying to kill me just now, so I gave you one less mouth to feed. And by looking at her, that mouth did some major damage. Now, personally, I wouldn't have picked her to be the one to go, but Arat..." he shrugs and blows airs through his lips. "I don't know... didn't trust her."

Dad takes a step closer to Negan. I think about how he bit the guy that held me down's throat out. How Rhys told me he almost died trying to beat the Governor to death. How he buried his red machete in Gareth's skull in that church.

But he doesn't manage any of that.

"Your shit's waiting for you at the gate," he snarls. "Just go."

"Sure thing, Rick," Negan says, smirking, "...right after I find the guy or gal that made this bullet." He holds it up. "Arat?"

My chest tightens as I wait for him to tell her to kill someone else.

She points her gun at Eric and Aaron.

"It was me!" Tara yells, stepping up. Arat moves and puts her gun to Tara's head.

"No... it wasn't," Eugene cries, hiding behind his hands. "It was me. It was only me."

Negan saunters over to him. Arat points her gun at Eugene now.

"You?" Negan looks unimpressed.

"It required one spent casing, one four-holed turret reloader, powder, one funnel for the powder—"

"Shut up," Negan tells him. Eugene's whole body is trembling. "I believe you."

Negan pats his shoulder.

He turns away, holding Lucille up in front of his face.

"Lucille, give me strength..."

We wait.

"I'm gonna be relieving you of your bullet maker, Rick," he says, "that and whatever you left for me at the front gate. And however much you scavenged, it's not good enough. Because you're still in a serious, serious hole after today."

He turns to his Saviors.

"Let's move out!"

Eugene is dragged away.

Rosita begs and screams. "No, no, no... please, just take me! NO!"

"Rick, I ain't gonna lie," Negan snickers before leaving, "your kitchen is a goddamn mess."

He laughs.

Dad hangs his head.

Negan grins. "I'll see you next time."

I walk down the porch steps to meet my father, who is still and quiet. He watches them until they're gone.

Dad's face is soaked. I can't tell if he's crying or if it's just sweat. I realise I'm crying.

"I'm sorry..." I mutter. "Please... Dad, I'm..."

We hear growling. I turn and see Spencer sitting up, his eyes clouded and his guts dragging on the floor as he tries to roll onto his back.

Dad reaches for his hatchet, but Mikey marches past us, stabbing his knife into his brother's temple.

"Mikey..." Tara tries calling out for him, but he walks away before she can reach him.

"I've got it," Rosita says, tears still in her eyes as she gets up and follows Mikey towards his house. A house that used to home five Monroes — now just the one. "I've got him."

Dad's been sitting in the Brownstone cell since Negan left.

It's dark now, and when Michonne gets home, I tell her what happened. She doesn't look surprised. I ask where she's been she doesn't tell me.

"Where's your dad?" she asks.

I tell her.

"Stay with Judith," she whispers, stroking my cheek. Then she frowns. "Where's your bandage?"

I shake my head, telling her I'll change it. I figure it's only fair that I don't tell her where I've been either.

By the time I've covered my eye, changed, and cleaned up the spaghetti, Dad gets home with Michonne. But they're not alone. Tara walks in after them.

I'm standing in the dining room, bouncing my PT ball off the wall. Dad walks straight up to me, putting his hand on the back of my neck.

"You're okay?" he asks.

I nod.

"Hey, man," Tara says.

I manage a half-hearted smile to her. "When'd you get back?"

"Yesterday..."

"Heath?" I ask, realising I didn't see him in the crowd.

"We got separated," Tara tells me.

"I'm sorry," I say. "About Denise, I mean."

She nods, hands in her pockets, eyes fixed on her shoes. "Sorry about Rhys."

"What happened today..." Dad tells us, taking Michonne's hand. "We have to fight. I'm sorry I couldn't listen before."

"We still don't have the numbers," Tara says.

Michonne nods. "If we can convince the Hilltop, and if we're careful—"

The front door interrupts her. Rosita bursts through it with Mikey behind her. When I see Rosita smiling, I wonder if we've somehow entered that superman comic I had back at the prison where he found a bizarre world where everything's backwards and square.

"Tell them," she says, prodding Mikey. "Tell them what you told me."

We're all looking at him.

"There's something you guys need to know," he says. "It's about Rhys..."

-Rhys-

I guess the guards remember me because I don't have to stop walking before the Hilltop's gates open for me.

A young Asian guy with spikey hair that looks familiar meets me when I walk in. Pretty sure his name is Kal. He asks for my gun and bow, and I hand them over silently.

A person climbs down off the wall. They're wearing a grey t-shirt and jeans. A baseball cap over their short brown hair obscures their face. I don't recognise her when she pulls me into a hug. She sounds so familiar but looks different.

"Maggie?" I ask when she finally pulls away and lets me see her face.

"Oh my god," she gasps, crying, hugging me again, sobbing into painfully tight fistfuls of my hair.

"Did you cut your hair?" is all I can think to say.

She's nodding and saying something, but I don't hear her because someone else is spinning me on the spot and hugging me now.

"Hi," Enid laughs, squeezing me until I can't breathe.

"Where have you been?" Maggie spins me back around. I start feeling dizzy.

"And where did you get a bow?" Enid adds.

"I—" I stutter. "I— kinda—" I don't know what to say or how to speak. My head feels numb and fogged. I just want to ask them what happened to Glenn.

"I think I might know..."

That voice is familiar, too.

I guess Hilltop is just the land of familiarity.

I see Jesus walk around the corner of the blacksmith. He grins and pats my shoulder. "I didn't realise it was you that Mikey went looking for."

"Mikey?" Maggie and Enid say together, sounding equally confused.

"You said Mikey went back to Alexandria," Enid says.

"Well, that wasn't technically true..." Jesus tilts his head and scrunches up his face, caught out. "Did you walk back?" he asks me.

"No," I say. "We got a horse, but Alexandria's further away than Hilltop, so Mikey took it."

Maggie and Enid look utterly confused like they're trying to work out how to even ask what we're talking about.

Just when I think everything might stop being familiar and start falling into normal, I see someone else. Someone so far from just familiar but heart stopping all the same. Daryl Dixon walks down from the big house towards us. His eyes get wider than I've ever seen when he notices me in the middle of the small crowd that has gravitated around me. He marches down the hill, and I'm stunned when he hugs me. Only just remembering to hug him back before he pulls away to stare dumbfounded at me.

Daryl isn't normally the hugging type. But neither are people that are supposed to be dead. I guess that's why I'm crying. I hug him again, and he makes a surprised grunt when I crash into him. When he pulls away, he asks why I'm crying.

"I thought..." I blunder. "Mikey said you were gone..."

I realise I never asked Mikey to expand on that. I guess I was scared of the details. I'd just assumed that Negan killed Daryl too.

"I was. Jesus got me out from the Saviors' place," Daryl tells me, clearing his throat when his voice breaks a little. "I'm sorry... about Glenn."

"Are they here?" I ask hesitantly.

Maggie nods, her eyes brimming with tears again.

"Can I see them?" I ask.

Maggie points me in a direction behind the trailers, and lets me go on my own. Kal starts saying something about telling Gregory that I'm here, but he seems to calm down when Maggie says it's okay.

A small dirt path leads between two trailers and comes out along the side of Barrington house. The spot is beneath a watchtower, quiet and overgrown by weeds and wildflowers. It's beautiful in a neglected sort of way.

I see two graves. One has green balloons floating above it; Sasha is crouched beside the other.

I say hello.

Sasha glances over her shoulder, standing up quickly, like a cat caught taking a nap.

I want to sound as sad as I am, but I guess being tucked away safely in the land of the Kingdom has let me forget how devastating it is back in the real world. I've forgotten how to react to it, so I don't react at all.

Sasha suddenly marches up to me. She stops dead still in front of me, staring with wet brown eyes. Eyes as sad as worn leather but tough as tree bark.

I hug her. I do it because I know Sasha hasn't become a hugger like Daryl has. And I know it's hard to hold onto someone after losing something else.

"I'm sorry," I tell her, looking around her shoulder at the grave she was knelt by.

She pulls away, taking my face between her hands and squeezing gently as she examines it. She doesn't say anything. Doesn't say what she's looking for. When she finishes, I move to sit between the two graves.

Sasha joins me.

"What do you want to do?" she asks me after I've had my palm on Glenn's grave for a few minutes.

I look at her. My eyes feel steely and salty.

"I want to kill every last one of them."

Her cheeks lift a little at that, and I wonder if it's because we're just as bad as the Saviors.

"We start with Negan," she tells me.

I nod small.

"I'm glad you're here," Sasha says.

I stay the night in a trailer that smells like home, like lavender and fresh tomatoes. Maggie tells me they've been living there since they got here.

I don't cry all night over Glenn or Abraham. I don't really cry at all over big things like that nowadays. It's easier to cry at my books or when that rat-faced Savior was mean to me. Things like death hurt different now. They hurt in a way that's not worth crying over because there's nothing you can possibly do to stop it — it's like shovelling dirt onto quicksand.

I sit by Glenn's grave again in the early morning with Maggie.

She hands me something small and glinting in the sun.

"It was my Daddy's before he gave it to Glenn. Now I'm giving it to you."

I squeeze the silver pocket watch, feeling the ticks under its skin against mine.

"I've already got a watch," I tell her, poking Ron's watch on my wrist.

"I know, Sweetie," she smiles at me, lips pursed tightly. "Sometimes you don't need things to remember people, and sometimes you do... something extra to keep them with you."

"Thanks." I smile, sniffing. "Glenn told me it's important to keep time, so we don't have to worry about it, and so we can forget it."

Maggie's eyebrows raise, and she nods knowingly. "And not to spend all your breath trying to conquer it."

"So the baby..." I start.

"It's okay," she tells me quickly, sighing like she's exhausted from thinking about it. "Somethin' Dr Carson called 'abruptio placentae,' but the baby is okay."

"Are you okay?" I ask. I don't really know why I ask. The answer is more noticeable than Barrington house.

She shakes her head. "We will be, though. Okay?"

I nod and shrug at the same time, picking at a flower growing next to the pile of white rocks stacked on Glenn's grave.

"I'm sorry," Maggie whispers out of the blue.

I'm not sure if she's talking to me, so I stay quiet.

"After the slaughterhouse," she says, "when we got back... I'm sorry I didn't look after you."

"I don't need looking after," I mumble.

"I know," she says. "But I think it would have helped."

"I don't blame you," I tell her.

She smiles at me, her legs curled to her side in the grass. "I was scared," she says. "I realised after I killed Molly that I would do that to anyone if it meant protecting you. I've never felt like that, and it scared me." She puts a hand to her belly.

"I keep feeling sad," I tell her. "I keep seeing you, Enid, Sasha, Daryl, and it makes me smile."

"Then why do you feel sad?"

"Because then I remember that Glenn's here." I run my hand along the dirt. "That Abraham is."

Maggie tugs on her baseball cap before saying something, and when she says it, it sounds like she's quoting some text of ancient wisdom. "We can't be sad now. Now is the time to smile and laugh and be angry. We've all got jobs to do. We have to look after each other, love each other, and kill the Saviors. When we've done that, then we can be sad."

"Where'd you get that from?" I ask.

She shrugs. "It's what I've been telling myself every day when I wake up since we lost them."

I smile at her — like really smile.

"Wanna help me keep watch?" she points towards the main gates.

"I think I should go find Enid," I tell her. "Haven't since I got here."

We stand up, and Maggie nods, kisses my head, and gently pushes me towards Barrington house.

I pass people doing their daily chores, waving at a few I recognise, like Berty and Kal. I find Enid on the grand house's front porch. I realise I don't know what to tell her, so I walk past her and into the house before she sees me. I walk loops of the giant building until I can think of what to say, but when I go back outside, Enid's gone.

I see that the main gate is open.

I see people at the gates.

Familiar people.

I see Rick hugging Daryl, Michonne clutching Maggie. Mikey's holding Enid and crying at something she whispers. Rosita and Tara are hanging back behind the others. But that all stops mattering because then, at that moment, the world is cured. The walkers and the dead people keeping me up at night melt away against a warm flame that sparks inside of me. I see Carl in his dusty brown Stetson at the bottom of the hill. I wait until he sees me. We both stare at each other like stars might stare at each other if they could. If stars could see each other's beauty for the first time and just stare and wonder how they could be so lucky to shine in the same dark sky.

Then I'm running. My feet turn to storming lightning bolts and crackles of thunder. I'm running full speed at him like a kid that lost sight of his family for just a second. A scary and lonely second. He starts running too. Two balls of fire collide as he meets halfway up and down the hill. We crash into each other so hard that we fall over, still clutching onto the other. We roll partway down the hill in grunts and painful thuds. And when we stop, Carl's on top of me. His hands are pressed against my shoulders. Then he kisses me. I kiss him back. The stars make a sun and burn so hot that all that dark space melts away.

"Hi," he says, out of breath when he pulls away.

"Hey," I say back.

He's crying. I laugh at him because I'm crying too.

I bring my hands to the back of his head and make him kiss me again. He tells me he's sorry, and I tell him I love him, and we do it all with the kiss that doesn't end until our lungs run empty and our hearts stop beating.