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SlumberingVoid- You're not wrong, we have seen people survive some crazy stuff in this show. It didn't feel quite right to have anything over the top and emotional like Tyreese's death for Mikey, one, because of all the chaos, but also because I felt it would have fallen short of the emotion of Carl's death in the show that it was replacing. So instead, I'm going more for how the characters are feeling and reacting to the loss. Mikey was definitely a character that embodied how innocent Rhys was at the start of the story; I think it's an interesting thing to explore how Rhys will be after losing that innocence again. And sure, there's definitely some wiggle room there for something more I guess, to see a walker or something else in the future when they finally start rebuilding Alexandria and going back to that area.


The horns sounded over an hour ago.

The sun is setting, and Hilltop is getting ready to show its teeth.

In the foyer, Maggie helps me strap on some of the Kingdom's armour they had left over from what they brought with them. She pulls the straps on the paintball armour until I can hardly breathe.

"Don't want it fallin' off later," Maggie says when she senses my discomfort. Spinning me around to check my front, fingers digging into my shoulders like I might float away.

"Don't you need some?" I ask sheepishly.

"I'll be fine, sweetie," she says with that half-smile that comes out in that I know we might all die tonight kind of way. "Where's your rifle?"

"Upstairs with Sasha's," I groan.

"I know you wanna fight out there," Maggie tells me. "I know you do. But the plain and simple is that you'll be more useful upstairs with Sasha."

"Where's Carl going?"

"Him and Michonne will be upstairs with me, representing Alexandria while Rick's gone."

"I want to be out there... with you," I tell her. "For the first part."

Maggie's face scrunches up at the idea.

"Please."

She un-wrinkles her face and nods. Maggie's holding me tightly then because there won't be any time for talking once it starts. She's holding me close and telling me to stay safe before she pushes me a few steps back and disappears upstairs.

I make my way over to Jenny and Ezekiel, who are standing with Carol, the three of them scolding Henry for asking for a gun.

"But I need to help. I need to fight," Henry tells them.

"No, you do not," Ezekiel says in his kingly manner. "You need to stay inside and guard this place. You will live and help others do the same."

"Rhys is doing that," Henry snaps back.

"Yeah," Jenny smirks, "but Rhys is only like a six or a seven when it comes to his shooting. He'll need you to back him up. Right, Rhys?"

I sigh at her, nodding slowly. "Sure."

"Carol, you know I can help," Henry tries as Carol walks away after taking Jenny's bow off her and handing her a machine gun instead.

Over her shoulder, Carol grimaces at his and says, "Henry, if you go out there during the attack, you'll die." Then she's leaving out the door.

Treating him with a little more care, Ezekiel kisses the top of Henry's head and smiles firmly at him. "Protect them."

I've never really liked crowds. Like the party when we first got to Alexandria. Stuffy and too loud. The main hall of Barrington is like that now. Everyone pushes past you if you stand still for too long.

I see Carl by the stairs, talking with Tara. By the time I push my way to them, Tara's vanished, and it's just Carl.

"Hey," I breathe.

"You okay?" Carl eyes my bright red face.

"Just a little warm," I swallow, nodding.

He looks nervous, too. His cheeks are clammy, and his forehead is creased.

"You know—" I start, but Carl cuts me off by putting his hand flat over my mouth.

"Don't talk about the fight," he chuckles. "Please, just saying something else."

"Something to take your mind off it?" I mumble into his sweaty palm.

"Yeah," he says, taking his hand down.

"Like what?"

"I don't know, man. Jus' something. Whatever's on your mind right now that isn't about tonight."

I think.

"I wish I kept Ty's beanie," I finally answer.

"Really?"

"Yeah," I laugh. "Sasha offered it to me, but I said no. It would be really helpful to cover my ear with."

"Do you think it's still there?" Carl asks. "At his grave."

"Doubt it," I say. "Can't imagine it didn't blow away."

"Maybe after all this, we can go and see?"

"Tyreese's grave?" I ask.

"Yeah," Carl nods, pulling at the rifle strap on his shoulder. "Jus' you and me. We can take some flowers or something?"

I nod a few times to make the offer seem real. "Okay."

I can't help but bring it back to tonight after that.

"Are you worried about your dad?" I ask him.

Carl hmms at me, nodding. "He'll come back with the rest of the scouts and hit the Saviors from behind if all goes to plan. Daryl should be back first."

I nod, not pointing out that he avoided the question.


The sun falls behind the trees and horizon, Hilltop is black, and crickets keep us on our toes with their relentless chirps.

I'm on the balcony with the others when it starts. All of us stand behind Maggie as she watches over Hilltop and towards the walls. One of her hands rested on the bannister, the other holding a radio. She sends Dianne and Eduardo to bring the Savior's from the pen. When they get back with the prisoners, Jerry gives us a signal from the walls.

"They're here," I whisper under my breath.

We hear their engines, but they stop a little ways from the gate. I guess they must have hit the spike traps we laid under the dirt along the road. The lights from their convoy bleed over the walls.

Maggie raises her radio and holds the button down.

"Negan. I want to talk to Negan."

I recognise Negan's right hand man's voice when he responds.

"Well, hello there. You are speaking to Negan, but my birth certificate says Simon. With whom do I have the distinct displeasure of speaking?"

"Maggie. Maggie Rhee. The Widow."

"Well then, hello again, Widow Rhee. Allow me to offer my condolences. For what's happened and what's about to happen. In case it's not already plain as Hilltop potatoes, yours truly is speaking on behalf of Negan this go around. And I assure you that the man himself personally received your care package next day delivery. I noticed it was the box that I gave you in good faith. Trick's on me. But the bill's come due, and you and your people are gonna have to pay. Quite dearly, I'm afraid."

Maggie slowly raises the radio again. "Your thirty-eight people are alive and breathing. Turn around and leave us be, and they stay that way. But if you don't, I have thirty-eight bullets that I will personally fire into all thirty-eight."

When all the Saviors are done getting into line behind her, Maggie lifts the radio to one of their faces. A guy with sad eyebrows and curly, dirty blonde hair.

His voice is low and croaky when he speaks. "It's too nice a night to spend it dyin' slow, don't you think, Simon?"

Maggie brings it back to her. "So, how's this gonna go?"

Simon takes a second before he responds.

"Well, Maggie Rhee, this is highly regrettable, but the way I see it, the Saviors you're in possession of there are damaged goods. You know, they've got themselves into their own pickle, and this organization prizes those who, a, avoid capture, and, b, figure out their own shit when said outcome eventuates. Which, in the end, is my way of saying screw them."

I glance at Carl while the debate plays out. He looks back and nods at me. I'm not sure what for, so I ask him quietly.

He shrugs. "Be ready."

"I know," I whisper back. "One second and it's over, right?"

He nods, blowing air out the corner of his mouth. "Never let your guard down. No matter how clear it looks."

When Simon is done monologuing, Gregory, who was brought up with the other prisoners, snorts at Maggie. "Did you really think that cockamamie play would work?"

"It will," she tells him.

I can hear Simon out of the radio now, calling to his Saviors on the far side of our wall in muffled shouts. Then we hear another engine. I worry more Saviors are showing up. Maybe even Negan. But I recognise the rumble of Daryl's motorcycle as it rattles closer. I hear gunfire outside the walls. The gates open and Daryl whizzes through. The Saviors try and follow in their trucks, but a school bus quickly pulls in front of the open gate. The Saviors trucks slam into its side and Maggie roars out:

"NOW!"

People let gunfire rain on the Saviors from every angle. The walls spit bullets from above while people on the bus jump up and shoot.

Maggie gestures for the rest of us to fire on the Saviors. Just as I'm about to aim, a volley of arrows fills the night sky, studding along the porch railings and walls. Carl pulls me into cover as one of the prisoners beside me takes an arrow in the arm. Air catches in the back of my throat as one of the Kingdom's fighters is hit, too, but he manages to retreat into the house away from the fire.

"Take the prisoners to my office," Maggie barks over her shoulder at Dianne. "Hold 'em there 'til it's done!"

The blonde Savior with the smooth voice tries convincing Maggie to let him help, but she doesn't spare him a glance before he's pulled away by Dianne with the others. Michonne takes Carl's arm and drags him back inside.

It's just Maggie and me on the balcony now.

Dianne barks at us to get inside.

"Where the hell is Rick?" I hear Maggie curse under her breath.

"Come on!" I tug at her arm.

"Get upstairs," Maggie hisses back at me when we're the only two left, and Dianne has vanished with the prisoners. Then she turns to yell over the balcony. "LOOKOUTS, FALL BACK! FRONT LINE, GIVE 'EM COVER!"

Then the two of us duck and run back into Barrington house. Maggie points me towards the stairs. "Top floor, go!"

I run, stumbling on the smaller stairwell that leads to the attic of Barrington. Sasha's already here, firing out a white-painted window to the yard below. I grab my rifle from the corner of the room, shaking my head and spluttering when I run face-first into a cobweb on my way to the window beside Sasha's.

"All going to plan," Sasha tells me like she was the one down there. "We just need to cover the retreat."

I know my job, so while Sasha fires on any Saviors dumb enough to poke their heads out of cover, I shoot out the headlights on the few trucks that made it inside the walls. Sasha gets the last one when I miss twice.

She tuts.

"Shut up," I hiss.

Once darkness settles, the gunfire stops. Everything is silent.

I can't see five feet from the house.

Then I hear whistling.

Then the trap springs.

Cars parked in front of the house beam their lights. Revealing the Saviors. Every window in Barrington lights up with gunfire, dozens of Saviors falling dead.

"BACK TO THE TRUCKS!" I hear over the fire.

The Saviors retreat, and then Rick's group appears at the gate.

I spot him among the crowd of reinforcements, hacking down three Saviors with his hatchet before disappearing behind a tent.

I try shooting Saviors, but my hands are shaking and I can't seem to hold my breath long enough to line up a shot. Angry, I toss the rifle down and run for the stairs, ignoring Sasha when she calls outs.

When I get outside, most of the Saviors are already back to their trucks and driving away. I spot one lagging behind, chasing him down the hill with my gun drawn and hammer clutched in a white-knuckled grip. He sees me over his shoulder before he turns the corner of the bus by the gate. I notice him slow down before he turns. When I skid around that corner, too, he's waiting for me, swiping out at me with blade already soaked in blood. But I'm ready for it, digging my boots into the dirt and jumping back, narrowly avoiding the tip of his knife. He tries again, but I put my whole body into swinging my hammer at his hand. There's a sickening crunch as his knuckles explode under his skin, and he drops the knife with a high-pitched yelp. I take a few heavy steps back as he falls into the side of the bus, clutching his hand and wailing. He's in the light now. He's young, early twenties maybe, with light red hair and a complexion of freckles over his nose. He's crying and choking as he cradles his broken hand, and I raise my gun and pull the trigger. The man's brains leave the back of his head, staining the dirt before his body falls into it.

Maggie and Rick rush past me, chasing the leaving truck of Saviors and firing. Carl appears from around a car and catches my arm before I can follow.

"NO!" I bark, pulling away from him. "We need to get them!"

"They're gone," he pants, bloodstains up his arms, clearly having worked hard, too, tonight.

He wasn't here," I say. "Negan wasn't here."