A/N: Uploading next weeks chapter today, as I'm not going to be around on Monday to post it!

Chapter 111- Rock in the Road: Plans.

Rick had hugged me tighter than I'm sure anyone ever has. Michonne, too. Tara tackled me off my feet and swung me around until I started laughing like I only thought I could at the Kingdom because that's just the sort of person that she is. Rosita punched my shoulder as hard as she could, then hugged me as tightly as she could; then hit me again because that's the sort of person she is.

We're all scattered around Gregory's office now.

I'm sitting on one of the uncomfy fabric sofas.

Rick's leaning against Gregory's desk.

"Tell me again," he says, pointing a finger at me.

"It's called the Kingdom," I say for the fifth or sixth time.

"Right..." Michonne's squinting at me from the corner of the room.

"He's not lying," Mikey pipes up from beside me on the uncomfortable sofa, the two of us being interrogated together. "It's got a king and everything. Where do you think I got the horse?"

"I was gonna leave the king part out," I grumble, all too aware everyone is already struggling to believe me.

"I can't believe you snuck out," Sasha hisses, shaking her head at Mikey.

I frown at them both, not sure when Sasha started caring all that much about Mikey.

Guess I've missed a lot.

"They've got fighters?" Rosita asks me, seeming to have zero trouble believing what I'm telling them.

"Way more than we do," I answer her. "More than Hilltop, too. But... they don't want to fight. They've got a good deal with the Saviors."

"Mierda," Rosita snorts.

"Seriously," I say. "Morgan agrees with them."

"Morgan's there?" Carl blinks at me.

"Carol, too," I say, nodding. "Kinda."

Before anyone can ask Mikey or me any more questions, Gregory storms into the room with Jesus on his heels, the two arguing about something.

"No! No way in hell!" Gregory holds his hands up. "That was not the deal. Rich and his people swore they could take the Saviors out... and they failed." He turns to glare at us all. "So any arrangement we had is now done! Null and void, all right?"

Rick tries to speak, but Gregory keeps barking.

"We aren't trade partners, we aren't friends, and we never met! Hmm? We don't know each other."

Everyone is glaring back at him.

He notices and looks offended, sitting in his ornate wooden chair, tucked safely behind his desk. "I owe you nothing. In fact, you owe me for taking in the refugees... at great personal risk."

Maggie pulls a face like she wants to punch him. Sasha told me she's already done it once.

"Oh, you were very brave staying in here while Maggie and Sasha saved this place from the dead," Jesus smirks.

"Hey..." Gregory frowns at him, "don't you work for me? Aren't we friends?" Then he points at me. "And don't you go thinking that I don't know about you staying here last night without any permission given. That will be worked off, I assure you."

"Bite me," I hiss, flipping him off.

Gregory looks ready to explode.

"Gregory..." Rick holds a hand up to keep me quiet, "we already started this."

"You started it," Gregory snaps at him.

"We did," Rick argues. "And we're gonna win."

"These are killers," Gregory shouts, slapping his hands down on the desk he's hiding behind.

"Is this how you want to live?" Rick winces. "Under their thumb, killing your people?"

"Sometimes we don't get to choose what our life looks like. Sometimes, Ricky, you have to count the blessings you have."

Rick takes a few loud paces to the back of the room, glaring at Gregory.

"How many people can we spare?" Maggie asks, leaning across Gregory's desk towards him. "How many people here can fight?"

"We?" Gregory scoffs at her. "I don't even know how many people we have, Margaret. And does it even matter? I mean, what are you gonna do? Start a platoon of sorghum farmers? 'Cause that's what we got. They grow things. They're not gonna want to fight."

I think I'm starting to understand the appeal of punching this guy.

"You're wrong," Tara butts in. "When people have the chance to do the right thing, they usually step up. I mean, people just—"

"Let me stop you before you break into song, okay?" Gregory holds out a hand and sighs.

Tara stares at me with her mouth agape. I mouth an 'I know' at her.

"And by the way..." Gregory looks around, "who would train this cannon fodder?"

"I will." "Gimme a week!" Sasha and Rosita bark at the same time.

"Rhetorical!" Gregory sings at the top of his lungs. "Okay? I don't wanna know. I never wanna hear another word about any of it. Ever."

"Would we be better off without the Saviors?" Rick suddenly asks. "Yes or no?"

"Yeah. Sure..." Gregory shrugs. "Okay."

"So," Michonne asks, putting her hand on his desk now, "what will you do to fix the problem?"

"I didn't say we had a problem. You did." He points. "And what happens outside of my purview... is outside of my purview."

"What the hell, man?" Daryl growls from the very back of the room beside Tara. "You're either with us or you ain't. You're sitting over there talking out of both sides of your mouth!"

Gregory gets up, fiddling with his suit sleeve. "Well, I think I've made my position very clear. And I want to thank all of you for not being here today and not having this meeting with me or being seen on your way out. In other words, go out the back."

Struck by disbelief, we all shuffle out of the office.

"Walking ballsack," Rosita sneers as we leave.

"I'll knock that idiot's teeth out," Sasha growls.

"Yeah, well, we don't need him anyway," Daryl shrugs.

"Yeah, that's right," Rick nods. "'Cause we have Maggie, Sasha, and Jesus here."

"And Enid," Maggie adds — and as if on cue, Enid rushes in the front door.

"Hey, um..." Enid pauses, looking at me.

"What's wrong?" Sasha asks.

"Nothing," she says, shaking her head, looking away and chuckling to herself. "Just come outside."

Maggie walks out with Enid, and the rest of us follow behind.

There's a gathering of Hilltoppers outside.

"What's going on?" Maggie asks them, standing at the edge of the porch.

"Hey," Bertie says, stepping forward from the crowd. "So, if you don't remember, I'm Bertie. And I owe my life to you all, twice over. A bunch of us do. Enid says that you want Gregory to get us to fight the Saviors with you. Is that true?"

"Yes," Maggie says firmly.

"Do you think we can win," Bertie asks, "that we really could beat them? Us?"

"I do," Maggie nods.

A few people in the crowd break smiles at us.

"Well..." Bertie straightens up, "Enid says you could show us the way? I'm ready."

"Me too," a guy from the crowd says. Murmurs of agreement start to break out and spread.

I smile at Enid, and she smiles back, shrugging her shoulders like it wasn't a big deal.

We all head down towards the gate, and I find Carl's hand in the crowd.

"It's a start," Michonne says.

"We'll get more," Sasha sighs. "It still won't be enough."

"No, it won't," Rosita concurs.

"Well," Daryl speaks up, "we find the right stuff, then maybe we don't need the numbers. Blow 'em up, burn 'em to the ground."

"You said there weren't just soldiers with the Saviors," Tara tells him. "You said that there were workers there. People didn't have a choice."

"We gotta win," Daryl shrugs.

"We'll go to this Kingdom next then," Rick says. "Rhys, you said they have the numbers."

"They won't want to fight," I warn them all.

"We have to try," Mikey hisses.

I do my best not to look too sympathetic when I nod to him. He told me about his brother.

Sasha must be thinking the same because she smiles at him.

"Sorry about Spencer," she says. Everyone seems to bow their heads in a strange moment of silence.

"Negan was right," Mikey says suddenly. Rosita and Carl are staring at him. Everyone is. "Spence was a coward. He knew he could have gotten people killed. But he didn't deserve to be—" he shakes his head. "He didn't deserve it."

"We'll get justice for them," Rick tells him. "But we need to talk to this king first. Negan has outposts... the geography, the distance works against us. We gotta get back. If they come looking for Daryl, we need to be there."

Jesus appears from the blacksmith's shack. He's holding a walkie-talkie over his head. "You don't have to get back... not yet." He shakes the walkie. "It's one of theirs, long-range. We can listen in, keep track of them."

Rick takes it and thanks him.

"You mentioned the Kingdom?" Jesus asks.

"Yeah," Tara nods. "We need numbers."

-Carl's POV-

The Kingdom is far. Jesus tells us to stay the night at Hilltop and that he'll drive us to the Kingdom in the morning. We spread out for the night. Jesus offers a spare room in Barrington house to Rhys and me.

I carry clean sheets across the upstairs landing from a linen closet, bumping into Enid after almost dropping a pillowcase.

"Sorry," I gasp.

"I'm fine," she smiles.

Earlier, after a few hours that we just spent settling in, and while the adults had another meeting about tomorrow: Enid, Rhys, Mikey, and I had sat in Barrington house's main hall that we're standing above now. It was weird, all of us being together again. Everyone was so them in that moment. Rhys had perched on the arm of a particularly comfy-looking armchair because he's the sort of boy that doesn't get comfy sitting on chairs or sofas normally. That, or he's been hanging out with Daryl too much since he got back. Enid sat on the floor with her back pressed to the same arm Rhys was roosted on. He had hung his leg by her shoulder at some point, and she took to hugging it nestled under her arm, like their way of saying hello again. Being like that seems to be when the two get on best. When they can just be feral together.

Mikey and I sat on chairs like normal people.

"Has Mikey said what happened?" I ask, shuffling my feet apart a little.

She nods, sniffling. She's not the kind to cry, but I know she does, and I can see how red her eyes are.

"Olivia was kind to me," she says.

"I liked her," I say.

"She didn't like you," Enid snickers in a sad kind of way.

"You coming with us tomorrow?"

"No," she says, leaning against the bannisters overlooking the big house, hugging herself with her sleeves pulled over her hands. "Maggie needs me here."

I smile, glad she's found something. A reason to be inside walls.

"Night, Carl," she whispers, pushing away from the railings and walking away.

Inside the small room we were given, I put the sheets down on the single bed. The room feels too small to exist in the enormous house, but it does, and Rhys seems to like it because there's a small balcony overlooking the stables. He's standing out there now.

"So, what's this place like?" I ask after I make the bed up. "The Kingdom."

He turns around, a breeze trapped in his hair. I notice that it's longer; longer and shaggier. It's darker, too. But everything about him seems darker. His skin is tanner, his eyes a shade darker green. Most of his cuts and bruises are more subtle than they were — blending in with his scars.

"It's... different," he tells me.

"C'mon," I shake my head, lying on the bed. "What's it really like."

He leaves the balcony door open and lies next to me. We barely fit on the tiny bed, but we manage, and it's nice to be this close together. His body is curved to mine as I lie on my back. His arm falls across my stomach, his head resting quietly on my shoulder.

"It's like... magical," he finally says with a glint in his eyes.

I laugh.

"Seriously," he smiles. "It's like you can leave everything wrong at the gates and just be a different person in there."

I feel bad now.

He must sense it because he apologises.

"Sorry. I didn't mean you."

"I'm sorry I made you leave," I whisper.

He twists onto his back. We're lying shoulder to shoulder now, and half of him hangs off the edge of the little bed. We stare at the high ceiling above us, a small oil lamp on the bedside table casting shifting shadows across it.

"No one made me leave," he says. "I love you. I love Rosita and Sasha. Maggie, Glenn, Abraham, Tyreese, Karen. Everyone. I, like, really do love all of you. It just got to be too much. I felt like everyone felt sorry for me, and I hated it. I saw a way to take a break from it, and I left."

"I guess I did feel sorry for you," I tell him. "But only 'cause... y'know..."

"I do know," he says, nodding. "I came back."

"So," I say, rolling onto my side, propping myself with one elbow and resting my head on my hand, looking down at him with a goofy grin. "Tell me more."

He tells me about it like dusting sugar. Gently, and not breaking any illusions of perfection. He tells me about two kind and oddly funny brothers who were like the family he never got to have. He explains how a beautiful and fierce girl taught him to throw knives and shoot arrows. How a boy showed him to ride horses. How a jolly, red-faced steward kept calling him little dude—

"Hold on," I stop him mid-explanation.

"What?" he looks at my finger, which has started making small circles on his chest.

"The boy in the stables," I say.

Rhys turns a shade of red under his tan cheeks.

"What about him?"

"Why didn't you describe him like the others?" I ask.

"Like the others?" He sounds like he's trying to play dumb.

"Like... magical."

"He's just a boy," Rhys shrugs.

"That seems harsh," I shrug.

"It's just..." Rhys frowns, and then I realise.

"Oh..."

"He kissed me," Rhys says quickly.

"Okay."

"But... then I let him kiss me."

"That's okay."

"Are you angry?"

"Why would I be?"

"I dunno. He wasn't you."

"Did you like him?"

Rhys shakes his head. But then he nods.

I frown, confused.

"I just wished he was you," he tells me. "Teo was cool, and I liked him. But I just wanted you."

I put my head on his chest, over all the small invisible circles I've drawn. I listen to his heart thunder.

"I wanted you," I whisper back.

"You have me."