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On The Edge

Summary:

After their ordeals in the wilderness, living on the edge far too long, it was time to come back now. Rick isn't sure if this extravagant clueless town is ready for the realities of the world outside, but he knows one thing. It's going to have to work. One way or another.

Determined to work on his new budding relationship with Amanda, Rick is ready to put it back together and create another home for his family and children, but things would never be that simple for him. Problems both from within the town and from outside the world continue to come one after another, and Rick finds out that even after everything they have been through together relationships are still not easy.

[Adaptation of the second part of Season 5 and the first part of Season 6]

Chapter 1: 'Shall we begin?'

Summary:

The leader of Alexandria welcomes their new sheriff, and his people. Rick readies himself for a new game.

Notes:

DarkTidings had uploaded Amanda and Lamson's deleted scene from Season 5, which I forgot to add here. It's a great scene for Amanda's character, especially how I perceive her. I watched it long after I built her on the base of her canon characterization and was madly happy that this is the woman I also view in my mind. Enjoy.

 

Here the deleted scene

Chapter Text

Deanna Monroe’s day started with a headache that split her head in two. She opened her eyes in her gloomy master bedroom, her hand moving over to her temples to massage her soft, wrinkling skin. Her eyes prickled as if small needles were poking them as the veins in her head pounded with each breath she took.

Deanna hadn’t slept well last night. Her sleep had been interrupted in an unexpected way, but the fifty-eight-year-old woman knew sleep deprivation wasn’t the only reason for her headache. No. Not even close. After what happened last night, Deanna would’ve been more surprised if her day started with anything less than a nuisance. Her days had been starting with nuisances for a long time, and it was just another reason why she was having this killer headache now.

Moving her head on the pillow, she looked at Reg. Her husband was still sleeping, an ability that sometimes Deanna envied. Careful not to rouse her husband, Deanna silently slipped off the bed and walked to the bathroom. She needed a hot bath to release the tension in her muscles. And think. Get ready. Today was going to be a long day, that much Deanna had gathered as soon as she’d seen the new arrivals at the gate when Spencer had woken them up after midnight. One look, and it’d been enough.

She slowly walked over the cool tiles in the bathroom, feeling the chill under her feet. The cold bit into her skin and dissolved any cobwebs from her mind as she adjusted the water. Hot water. Baths. Adjusting the temperature. Briefly she wondered what the newcomers would think of them, but she forced the thoughts away. It wasn’t the time for those questions yet. She slid off her black dressing gown, took off her chemise, and stepped into the tub.

The Empire style bathroom decorated with modern touches reminded her of home like the house itself always did, but forcefully, Deanna corrected the thought. This was her home. She couldn’t tolerate any other way of thinking anymore, especially today. She didn’t know exactly how long she stayed in the tub, but when she left it, the water had already started getting cold, and when she walked out of the bathroom, the bed was empty.

Deanna went to her vanity table and started getting ready. She wore her trustworthy classic ankle cut beige pants with a sturdy white shirt. Over the shirt, she put on her faded pink and beige Chanel tweed jacket and slipped on the same brand's nude ballet flats. The weather was getting too cold for flats, but Deanna was rather fond of her shoes. They were comfortable, one of the pairs she’d brought from home when the military had directed them to this town instead of Ohio. She was sure her luggage had also a pair of her ankle boots, but she still wanted to save the days as much as she could. Taking her pearl necklace from her vanity’s drawer, she fastened it around her neck before she slipped the matching earrings in her earlobes. She put on her watch last and started doing her make-up.

Deanna had stopped wearing make-up daily, but today was a special occasion. She wanted to be on her best game, and those purple bags under her eyes wouldn’t do it for her. She quickly applied the concealer under her eyes first, then took the silk-foundation and massaged the creamy product on her face after moisturizing her skin. Next, she dabbed a few touches of peach blush on her cheekbones, faintly applied mascara to frame her eyelashes, and looked into the mirror to check her handiwork.

There. The woman in the reflection didn’t seem like someone who had only slept three or so hours last night. She looked collected, level headed, and reassuring, even though her head still throbbed. She needed a coffee. She managed a smile in front of the mirror, remembering the way she used to rehearse her speeches for Congress to get herself prepared, but she forced that thought away as well.

Tossing a last look to the mirror, Deanna left the master bedroom and headed downstairs. The living area was on the first floor, safely tucked away from the long hall and on the opposite side of the kitchen. Beside it, there was a small parlor where sometimes she took her coffee.

The living room, though, was turned into a sort of reception room. The modern touches of classic style were there like the rest of the house, although the furniture in the spacious room had a more classic effect than other parts of the house, from the long dining table, buffet, and hangings on the walls. The room was a narrow rectangle, with two facades looking east and west. The dining table was placed in front of the southern wall, and in front of it to the left was placed a very comfortable lounging couch in black leather, with a custom made soft red blanket and pillows laid over it. The rugs covering the hardwood floor were custom made, too, handmade in the same color of the blanket. The room’s left wall was covered with shelves of books for the full length, facing the couch. On the other side, there was an Empire Style comfortable armchair in clear sight of the camera that stood on the tripod at the back of the leather couch.

It was the place Deanna held her first interviews.

She passed the couch and the armchair quickly and went to the white floor length window at the corner. Pivoting her body, she angled her sight and looked outside.

There they were; the two houses she’d placed their new guests in last night. If she could keep her torso aligned a bit toward the left side, she could also get a peek at the porch at the house on the left side... And she moved, then her gaze caught it.

And there he was, too.

With that coarse bushy beard and stern and tensed attitude as he stood holding the porch’s white railings, it was impossible for Deanna not to recognize the man. She’d seen him in the middle of night in the dark, but even from the distance between their houses, the sight of him was unmistakable.

Silently, Deanna let out a breath.

Their new sheriff.

Well, Deanna had asked for this.

The man had company, another man she was remembering from last night, but the names were still fuzzy. The man was wearing a leather vest over a dark shirt and supporting an even rougher look than Rick Grimes. They seemed to be having a talk as they surveyed the town.

From where she was, Deanna couldn’t see clearly, but she was sure the deputy had a pinch across his brows like last night when they met. It was a brief moment, the clear but cutting blue eyes gazing at her openly, sternly—eyes glinting with a sharp edge. Deanna had always been a good poker player, had always been a quick study.

After another assessing look, Deanna smiled at the man, holding out her hand for a handshake, and welcomed them to Alexandria. She got Spencer to quickly arrange the two buildings on the right side of the compound that had a clear view from her own living area. She’d left them with a good night, assuring them that they were among friends, and they would talk tomorrow.

Now tomorrow had arrived.

Nineteen people.

What—what the hell Aaron was thinking?

She barely held herself from shaking the recruiter while asking that question. Nineteen people!! People looking like that!

Yet, they’d opened their gates.

Reg walked into the room at that moment, holding a cup of her morning coffee. The warm steam was still rising from the porcelain cup, and gladly Deanna took the hot beverage from her husband. They exchanged a quick morning kiss as she did, and Deanna smiled at him. “Morning.”

“Morning—” Reg said, moving to the opposite side of the window’s frame. “Checking out the newcomers?”

Deanna nodded. “Thought it might be good looking at them from a distance.” Reg nodded. Her husband had gotten accustomed to politics quite a lot during their almost thirty year long marriage. They’d met when they’d been both at Harvard, Deanna in Law, Reg in Architecture, and had been together since then. She couldn’t even imagine a life without him now, and it was basically the reason why she wanted those men on that porch across them. “Spencer called in Aaron and Denise?”

“Just like you instructed last night,” Reg replied. “They should be here in a minute.”

Deanna nodded, her eyes turning towards the porch again. She needed to have a full brief with Aaron before they started having interviews. They also couldn’t do it last night, not after Deanna had seen Eric’s state, but it was morning now. As she sipped from her cup, really grateful for the itchy feeling across her throat, a woman came out to the porch too, and stood beside the deputy. Deanna recognized her; it was the woman who held the baby tucked against her chest last night.

The baby.

These people also had a baby. A little baby girl, over six months. Even thinking of childbirth in their condition made Deanna feel bad for the woman and the baby, even though she wasn’t sure if the woman was the mama. She had soft brown hair, put up in a half ponytail, wearing dark combat pants with a white shirt and leather jacket. She composed herself with an air of training. The sheriff’s deputy and the sergeant half dressed in BDUs had that air, too. Last night, Aaron had mentioned they had another police officer and a medic among their numbers, but Deanna wasn’t sure. It was one of the reasons why she had to talk to Aaron. She had to know.

They were all on the porch now, talking, but something happened, even Deanna saw it happening from where she stood. They got tense, their postures turning rigid. She couldn’t see it clearly, but the woman seemed to be glaring at the deputy, then she swiftly spun on her heel and stalked back into the house. The look the deputy had given her must be a glare, and then the man bowed his head. Before she disappeared through the doorway though, two women–one a grey-haired, the other dark curly-haired- came outside to join the men. They met in the porch’s doorway as the other women came out. The deputy greeted them with a jerk of his head, a terse gesture before he started going inside after the woman.

Deanna narrowed her eyes at the scene. 

Aaron. She needed to talk with Aaron. Now. But before the recruiter came, she heard the front door open and a few seconds later, Aiden appeared at the threshold of the room. Deanna had stationed him and his team outside the houses to watch out last night. They had taken a risk to let them in. Deanna hadn’t seen any better option, though. Aaron had brought them in. Deanna had given him a job, and the recruiter did it. She couldn’t undo that, not without undoing her own authority before the procedures started, and they made the final decision.

Her firstborn swaggered inside. “This is really not good, Mother,” he said as a way of greeting. “They’re too crowded.” he started talking like a breeze, taking up from where he’d left last night after Deanna had sent him away for the watch. “Nineteen people!” he exclaimed, disbelief dripping from his tone, and despite what she’d done, Deanna would hardly fault her son for that.

“Nineteen people!” he almost shouted, repeating the count as if she could ever forget while he crossed the room. “Mother, you’ve given him too much of a free hand,” he continued berating her. “I told you he was gonna end up with something like this.” He shook his head agitatedly. “I told you.”

“Aiden—” Deanna cooled her voice into her best politician mode. “You know what we need,” she spoke calmly. “Aaron even mentioned they have a sergeant, a police officer, and a medic among them.”

It was such a brief talk they had before they were separated. 3 AM by the look of them wasn’t a good time to start a conversation. Deanna had only managed to pull that much out of him before Aaron started dragging his husband towards their house.

They were in bad shape. Eric was limping with a knee injury, and the others... God, the others. Deanna had never seen people looking that much like savages. They were dirty, smelly, and covered with things she didn’t even want to imagine. She spied bloodstains on their clothes, which were caked with dirt. The women’s hair was tangled with leaves and hay, Deanna suspected, and men had scruffy, unkempt beards. The deputys' was even spreading under his chin towards his neck.

Deanna debated with herself for a second if she should give them time to make themselves presentable again. But usually, to gauge their guests better, they held the interviews before they cleaned themselves up. Denise had mentioned interviewing them in the ways they came to them would give them a better insight into their mindset, and Deanna had agreed.

No. She wanted to see them in the ways they were.

“We’re managing just fine, Mother,” Aiden bit off, and almost startled, Deanna turned to her firstborn. Were they? Deanna wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t going to tell her son.

Aiden was trying, as best he could. He wasn’t raised for this. None of them were. But he was trying, going out there even though each time he set foot outside. There was a part of Deanna that wanted to lock him inside the house and never let him out ever again. But that was the desire of a mother for her child, not of a leader, so Deanna kept it where it belonged: deep inside her chest.

“We discussed it before, Aiden,” she remarked, putting a distinctive dismissal in her tone that wouldn’t go unnoticed by his son. She couldn’t take this right now. “You know my views on the subject.”

She took another sip from the cup to give herself some time as Aiden opened his mouth for a comeback, but his retort was cut off as the door opened the second time. A few seconds later, Spencer let Aaron and Denise inside. A chorus of good mornings echoed at the same time as they walked in.

Sipping her coffee, Deanne nodded in acknowledgment and turned to Denise. “Have they filled you in?” she questioned the psychologist. Last night, it’d been only her, Aaron, and Spencer before Spencer called his brother and his team to stand guard after she’d dismissed their guests into the houses. Deanna didn’t see any reason to wake the psychologist up when she realized there was nothing else to do in the middle of the night beyond placing the arrivals indoors and dealing with it in the morning.

The dirty blonde-haired woman nodded, trying to hold back from fidgeting. Deanna tried not to scowl, seeing the woman, telling herself she was only an apprentice in clinical psychology. The truth was the woman would have never ever been in her staff if things were different, and that fact had reminded her again of her own people, her team, the usual ease she used to have while working with them. She stopped her thoughts. These people were what she had, and she had to work with what she had.

Her team—her staff—Deanna had lost them. If Michelle were here, she would’ve already had a detailed report on her desk on the newcomers, a full analysis, and if Root were here—her personal detail, the head of her security—Deanna wouldn’t have needed these people in the first place! But if wishes were horses… As Deanna had known since the military who had cut their way to her hometown, driving her away from the rest of her staff. Denise was what she had now.

“Just the basics,” Denise said. “Aaron said we have newcomers.”

Deanna nodded. “Nineteen of them,” she elaborated. “Aaron found a sheriff’s deputy. They came after midnight. We start interviewing them ASAP, but I want to know what you know first, Aaron.” Her eyes turned to the former NGO dealer. “How did you find them? How did you open contact? How did they react?” she rapidly fired the questions that had been turning inside her head since she’d gone back to bed last night, sleep eluding her. “And what happened to Eric?”

“Eric—I decided to make the first contact alone, so I left Eric in a warehouse five or so miles away. But we ran into problems. A small herd. They attacked us when I was with them, then I saw Eric’s flare, and realized he was in trouble.” He paused. “They came with me to find him.”

 Deanne arched an eyebrow as Aiden huffed. “They came with you?” he repeated. “To rescue someone that they don’t even know?”

There was skepticism in her son’s voice once more, and Deanna shared it. But if these people were the kind of people who would do that, perhaps they still had a chance. But Aaron cleared his throat. “Well, there was some…urging.”

Deanna gave her recruiter a plain look and ordered. “Start from the beginning. How did you find him?”

Then Aaron started talking. He recounted to them his tale, the way he’d found them, spied on them, and then half got caught, half walked in himself. How the sheriff’s deputy, Rick, punched him in the face after a few exchanges, the way they bound him. Deanna was fully scowling after that. The man had opposed coming here but got cornered because of his people. Then the dead attacked, and they saw the firelight and went to retrieve Eric.

Aaron took a breath there. “He—Rick said it’s not a favor. He said if we were going to live together, he didn’t want it to start with something like this. But he said if he deemed it not safe, he wouldn’t take the risk—”

Aiden made a noise. “Such heroics.”

Aaron turned to him. “There’s no heroics anymore, Aiden. He accepts that much.” The recruiter paused again before he continued. “But he tries. Tries to be a good man. I couldn’t get Eric out if he didn’t try.”

Deanna nodded. “The others,” she asked. “You said there was a sergeant, another police officer and a medic.”

“And a nurse,” Aaron added. “She tended Eric’s wound later. She stayed behind when we left to look for Eric, but she’s better than the medic.” Deanna nodded again. It made sense. Medical personnel was one of the most valuable assets. They wouldn’t endanger her with something like that.

The reality that she might have another medical person on her hands, someone for Pete to train…well, that was unexpected. Her lips almost broke out in a smile. She waved a hand at Aaron to continue. “There’s a cop from the Atlanta Police Department. She was the one who was holding the baby.”

Deanna nodded again. “She’s the mother?”

Aaron shook his head. “No. I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think so.” the man paused again. “The baby. She’s the deputy’s,” he stated after a second. “He’s got another child, a teenage boy. She isn’t the mother—but well—”

Deanna gave a look at the man. “Well?” he prompted.

“They might be in a sort of relationship, but I’m not sure of its true nature,” he replied openly. “Though, they’re close.”

“How close?”

“Like she-uh—can yell at his face and get away with it. She wanted to come here, but Rick was dragging his feet.” Aiden snickered. “They don’t mind getting into each other’s personal space…you know…closeness.” He cleared his throat. “But they’re not married. It’s not a certain indication but they don’t have rings.”

Deanna gave another half nod, almost absently this time, but it was Spencer who had said it out loud. “So he’s shagging her?”

“Spencer!” Reg raised his voice as Deanna took another sip from her cup. She never liked vulgarity, but she didn’t mind right now. “It’s not our business how anyone prefers to spend their spare time.”

Putting down her cup on the stand beside the window, Deanna slanted another look at the now quasi deserted porch. There was only the man with the leather vest, as the rest of them had moved back inside. “Actually, it is. We need to know who’s with who, and who’s at odds with who.” Her gaze turned to Denise. “Right, Denise?”

“The small but close-knit groups didn’t have intricate relations,” the psychologist supplied quickly. “Most of the time knowing the levels of their affiliations means solving their modus operandi.”

“Exactly,” Deanna remarked, nodding. “Knowledge is power.” She turned to Aaron again. “Are there others who are in…close relations than others?”

“The medic is with someone, I believe. I saw them kissing before we left,” Aaron answered directly. “I saw sergeant has a girlfriend. Rosita. I saw them, too.”

“All right,” Deanna concluded. “Is there anything else I need to know before we start interviewing?” She made another pause. “I think it’s time we host our new sheriff.”

Aaron gave her an incredulous look. “You're starting interviews right now?” he asked. “They couldn’t freshen up themselves yet.”

“I already gave them a night. We need to start now,” she retorted with a finality in her tone as she started moving away from the window. She wanted to see them in their own element. Her eyes flicked over to the recruiter again. “Is there anything else?”

That made Aaron hesitate as the man looked at her. Deanna stopped. “The sergeant—” Aaron started after a few seconds as Deanna looked at him in silence. “He wants to talk to you. He’s agreed to come to find Eric because of it…” Aaron cleared his throat again. “A scientist is with him. He believes he could cure the virus.”

There was a silence in the room after that declaration, each staring at the man until Deanna broke it. “A cure—a cure to stop it?”

Aaron shrugged. “I don’t know. He said he wants to talk to you. They were trying to go to the Pentagon to find a lab before I found them. Trying to get to D.C.”

Aiden shook his head before he exclaimed. “Are they mad?” he cried out. “D.C. is a graveyard!”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Aaron started, but Spencer cut him off.

“No, we do,” he said. “We came from there.”

 “That was two years ago.”

Deanna cut off the bickering. “It’s not the time for this,” she stated firmly. “Aaron, go bring the deputy. I want to talk to him.” She waved her hand to her sons. “You, both out. Denise, you’re with me.”

“Yes, Deanna,” the plump blonde woman replied as she went and took her place at the dining table where she usually sat for the interviews.

Deanna watched as her sons left the house with Aaron and Reg went upstairs to his own study. Aiden had brought some books from his last run, and her husband had been trying to sort them out to see if there would be some source of knowledge among them that would help them in their conditions.

Basically, Alexandria was a self-sufficient community with its separate eco-based infrastructure systems, cisterns, and solar panels, but their durability had been keeping Deanna awake at night for a long time. Once a solar panel had gotten broken, and they couldn’t get it back online no matter how long they tried. Their pantry was full and well-stocked by the military, but the same question still plagued Deanna…how long? She’d been sitting with Reg at nights, planning, drawing, thinking, but each time Deanna came to the same conclusion.

She couldn’t do this alone. She needed someone, someone to delegate some of her concerns relating to security at least, so she could start planning on building their future. A leader couldn’t fight on all fronts all by herself.

Their town needed a sheriff. Deanna didn’t have time to police their people. She should govern. She had to.

She allowed herself a brief sigh before muttering to Denise, “I’m going upstairs to my study. Let me know when he’s come.”

Upstairs, instead of her study, she headed to the master bedroom and checked her appearance. The woman who looked at her back seemed old, too old. Her skin was wrinkled, spotted with dots that had come with age. The crow’s feet around her eyes were etched on her skin permanently. Even with the concealer and foundation, her skin looked tired, the bags under her eyes visible. They were the traces of times no make-up trick would erase, but Deanna still tried. Deanna couldn’t let her emotions faze her. She walked to her vanity table purposely and took out concealer and foundation. She applied them again carefully, then rechecked her appearance. She shifted the pearl necklace around her neck, dusted off her tweed jacket, and gave herself a little smile in the mirror. She looked collected, leveled, reassuring—

She heard the door opening downstairs. Footsteps came up before she heard Denise’s voice, “Deanna, he’s come.”

Deanna gave a nod at her reflection. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

She walked out and started heading down the steps, Denise at her heels. She strode down the hall, her pace still purposeful, and stopped at the threshold of the living room.

He was beside the floor-length window she had been standing at this morning. He was also at the same angle, checking. Even from his profile, under that long, dense, bushy beard, Deanna could see a scowl as he stared ahead toward the houses. His expression was still stern. Deanna realized at that moment he'd figured out that she’d set them up in those houses on purpose.

His eyes darted toward her quickly as he stood still beside the full glass window, one hand propped against his hip. They’d taken their weapons before they were dispatched to the houses last night, but he was still carrying that long machete blade at his right hip. His hands, Deanna realized, his hands were still covered with pale bloodstains. Deanna wondered if he even slept a second last night.

Probably not. “Hello, Rick,” Deanna greeted him, pulling her lips into a smile as she walked inside the room. “I hope you found the accommodations to your liking.”

He gave a scoff as his head twisted toward her for a second before he turned again to the window. Deanna stopped beside the camera as Denise took her post behind the dining table. “This is Denise. She’s our psychologist.” She made the introduction. Another look was slanted at Denise as she sat down. “She supervises the interviews.”

The deputy gave an indifferent nod, another terse, curt gesture. “Yeah, Aaron mentioned.”

“Do you mind if I film it?” That made him face her fully, finally. “For transparency, we also record the interviews,” she explained. It wasn’t only for transparency, as Deanna also preferred to watch them again as a less involved observer afterward, trying to assess the interviews after a break.

She half expected the savage man to oppose it. He must have known what she was really aiming for, but he only waved an idle hand as his eyes returned to the outside. “Go ahead.”

Deanna held back the urge to go stand beside him and look at what was there—if something was there beyond the houses—to get him this interested something…or someone?

Firmly staying where she was, she turned on the camera. She strode around behind the couch, making it a bigger sweep on purpose, and managed a peek outside. Some of his people were out on the porch. Deanna saw his teenage boy together with a teenage girl with shoulder-length blonde hair. The grey-haired woman was with a little girl and the officer, again with the baby girl. They were all out on the porch, looking out at the town as the deputy looked at them down from her window.

Deanna settled herself on the couch. She pivoted to the man and gave him another small smile, collected, level-headed, and reassuring. It was a smile she’d worked on in front of a mirror a million times before she asked, “Shall we begin?”

Giving the outside a last look, Rick Grimes turned aside and started walking to the armchair in front of the couch.

# # #

As the sun started rising, Rick watched the town in the better light. He was standing on one of the porches of the houses that they’d settled them into last night, his hands holding the railings tightly to keep himself from drumming his fingers against his machete. As he’d expected, his gun was taken upon entrance.

That much the townspeople at least hadn’t forgotten, but the rest… Rick wasn’t satisfied. As he kept his body immobile, his eyes skidded to his left and backward and checked the three men who were supposed to keep watch on them. Two of them had already slept on duty, and the other looked like he couldn’t even hold a fight against Carl.

There were two more in front of the houses, but one of them had already slipped away. The last one, a curly dark-haired man around in his early thirties, looked a bit more like he knew what he was doing, but nevertheless, it didn’t change his conclusion.

These people had welcomed them with open arms in the middle of the night, nineteen of them, and then settled them in houses, leaving poor security to protect themselves. If Rick and the rest of his family weren’t the people they were, these people would’ve been in deep shit.

The people they were—

The thought brought up Carl’s earlier question before they had gone to Terminus; What would we tell them, dad? What happened to us—what we did to survive—

Rick found out his answer hadn’t changed yet. He would tell them who they were. They were people who lived with a simple code: they kill the dead and don’t hurt the living unless they try to hurt us or others.

Amanda’s code was still the best answer, but would it be enough?

He watched the people who were spying on them. Their lack of protection would cause them to pay a high price again. They would not—they were not going to pay it again because of the others' carelessness or stupidity. Maggie’s loss still cut too deeply, etched too far into his bones to make him ever forget that.

His attention turning back to the town, Rick surveyed it more closely. Even in the pitch dark, Rick had noticed it, but now in this eerie time before dawn, it seemed even more palpable. The quiet. The stillness. The town was too quiet with no sound at all. It irked him a great deal, and Rick scowled.

A life of sustainability.

Alexandria’s Dream.

The town—the town really looked like an oasis in a desert.

His eyes moved towards the flower beds in front of the house, bright colorful rows of them in front of the porch. He thought for a second he would make a bouquet for Amanda before he wondered why these people had flowers instead of planting vegetables like they’d done at the prison.

As far as he could see from his vantage point, Rick couldn’t see any single plant in the town other than flowers and trees.  It was nice. It was beautiful. And it was stupid. Food was essential to their survival, while flowers were a luxury.

His eyes roamed around one more time, moving first to the angle of the solar panels. They were stashed at the back towards the gate, well-hidden from the front, set not to muddle the ambiance that the town tried to ooze. His eyes turned to the white picket fences, two-story houses, all a part of the carefully designed amenities, all arranged and designed to create that atmosphere. He could see the highest part of a bell tower on the east side and a big white house across from them to the east behind the sun that Aaron had mentioned was the community center. If he squinted, leaning out over the railings, he could even catch a glimpse of the pond in front of it.

They still hadn’t taken the whole welcome tour, but the roads around them were wide and well-kept, having a tartan track for single-person use at the side. Rick could see the red tartan circle the town all around. Amanda would love that, he thought as he heard soft footsteps behind him.

A couple of seconds later, Daryl came to his side. He’d taken the watch outside in the back, while Rick had taken the front last night, and Glenn and Amanda kept watch inside.

He checked his wrist. If his watch was correct, they’d been here for less than five hours. Aaron had mentioned last night before they separated that their leader would want to start the interviews in the morning. Rick expected a bit more time before it started. Perhaps he would go inside, leave the watch to Abraham, take Amanda to a secluded corner, and have one eye open sleep for an hour or so at least before it truly started. Rick was sure Amanda hadn’t blinked even once during the whole night, too. It didn’t seem like a good idea to deal with these people with sleep-deprived minds. But Daryl had come to his side. The men in cover at the front had started moving.

“The idiots left,” Daryl roughed out, propping his back at the angle of the beams in the corner beside him, facing him. “’tis ridiculous, man,” his hunter friend, his brother, rattled, pissed off, shaking his head.

Rick shared the sentiment. “Yeah...”

Daryl gave a look around, too, surveying things. “Can’t ever imagine myself living in them houses before,” he muttered as Rick looked at the house across from them.

Rick shook his head, his gaze making another sweep of the idyllic town... and before he knew it, the words poured out… “Lori—” he said. “She used to dream about us living in one of these one day.”

As soon as the words were uttered, the screen door of the porch opened and revealed Amanda, who stood still at the threshold, hearing his words. Rick wanted to kick something, toss his head back, and scream.

Just the thing, just the thing he needed right now.

Her expression was cool, but the rigid way she squared her shoulders told Rick openly. She had started at least mentioning Lori’s name, but she still didn't like hearing it.

I didn’t like it—he remembered her confession from the funeral home, which now seemed ages ago. He gave her a look as she still stood at the door, Daryl looking everywhere but at them. The next second, she schooled her features into indifference and stepped out, coming to their side.

She’d brushed off something she didn’t like once again. Rick didn’t know. He didn’t know even why he opened his damn mouth and made that comment! It just had come out, perhaps this whole ambiance reminded him of his old life.

His old life. His eyes skipped to her again, and for a second, the urge to take her in his arms rose strongly. This was the life he had, the life he wanted. He wanted her. He needed her. He needed her like he hadn’t needed anyone before, had never wanted before—

Amanda stopped beside him and supported her hip against the railings. “All is good?” Rick asked in a rough voice. For a moment, it was hard to speak.

She nodded. “Yeah, they’re still sleeping. Came to check on you,” she said as if there was still a need to explain herself for seeking him out. “When do you think they will start those interviews?” she asked quickly in the brief silence following her statement.

Rick shook his head. “I don’t know,” he answered. “Aaron said in the morning. The lookouts just left—” He tilted his head around. “I guess he will come soon.”

Looking around, too, Amanda narrowed her eyes, a pinch settling over her brows. “It’s too early. We need time. Settle down. Clean ourselves up a bit…” she remarked as her eyes turned to him, flickering toward his beard. “We look like cutthroats."

Rick let out a low scoff. There they were. “I don’t care. I’m not going to be caught up in the shower or in my boxers.”

Her expression soured even further. “Why, Rick, you still look like shit!”

“Let’s hope Deanna ain’t in the league of Dawn then,” he muttered.

Rick couldn’t care less how he looked right now. He wasn’t here to pitch himself as a presentable, profitable acquisition. He didn’t need to play by their rules. These people needed them, too. They weren’t only here for gratitude. They had their own angles, all people did now.

Though, he wasn’t sure if theirs were going to align with his people. Only time would tell now.

But Amanda was still looking at him with that sour, pissed look. “Why don’t you go and take a shower?” he offered the olive breach, taking a step closer to her. It was the first thing she’d done when they’d found the church. Cleaned herself, washed her face, trimmed her hair—

Rick wandered his eyes over her face and his gaze fell on the half-up ponytail. She shook her head. “No, it’s fine,” she bristled before she turned and started walking inside.

Rick watched her back, a scowl knitting his brows as well, as Carol and Joan came out of the house. They exchanged brief hellos at the screen door. Amanda passed them by quickly and disappeared inside. Both women darted a look at him, sensing Amanda’s mood. Rick ignored them and moving from his post, he followed Amanda inside.

The living area was like a big parlor, and the bedrooms were upstairs. Both houses had three bedrooms upstairs, a small parlor-den on the first floor, a small attic at the top, and a garage in the back. Perhaps the other houses were bigger, but they’d been settled in these.

Arranging the accommodations was going to be interesting, but that was a problem for later. Rick had made everyone sit tight in the living room of the first house, leaving the second one empty as they stood guard. He wasn’t going to let anyone go astray, let their guards down with the offerings before he made sure they were completely safe here. Both outside and inside.

How quickly they’d opened their gates and settled them in still made his stomach coil, but that was having to wait, too. Right now, he just wanted to do one thing.

Take Amanda in his arms, go into that small parlor-den thing, and catch a few minutes of peace, her in his arms. He needed it. He needed it as strongly as he needed to see his children safe, needed to hear their breathing in sleep.

Rick crossed the living room, making sure to toss a glance at Judith and Carl in the corner they slept beside Beth and Mika. The kitchen was tucked at the back of the living-dining area, separated by a full wall and door, and he found her inside. The kitchen was the most modern part of the house, which had a strange mix of classic and modern embroidered together. Stainless steel, chromicized and sleek, made the kitchen more trendy. It had a cold, distinctive air, too, not warm as a kitchen was supposed to be. But perhaps it was because no one was living in the house prior to their arrival. With no one cooking, the house lacked the warmth of…a home.

His mother always used to tell him a nice smelling kitchen was what made a house a home, Rick recalled as he surveyed the chilly place.

At the counter, Amanda was checking the sink. She moved the faucet with the side of her forefinger and shook her head as the water ran strong and fast. She passed her finger under the waterfall, pivoting her body to look at him. “They got hot water, too, you know?” she asked in a whisper. “Saw it this morning.”

Rick nodded. “Yeah, solar panels.”

Amanda turned off the tap. “Yeah,” she muttered, shrugging.

Rick walked to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. For a moment, his dream flashed in his mind, but the reality felt like a cold, distant echo of that dream. Rick closed his eyes and tried to smell pancakes.

There was only cold now, the chill of a late October morning.

Tightening his arms, Rick brought her closer to his chest like he'd been doing for weeks before dawn each night under a tree; coming to him after his midnight watch, and slipping into his arms before escaping before dawn.

Rick wanted to stop now, at least for a while. The implications of their fight from last night were still in his mind, but Rick was tired. And, she was so warm, so alive in his arms. Rick was going to face yet another game, a game he didn’t even know the rules yet. He just needed her now.

“Let’s go to that small den,” he whispered to her. His lips trailed softly over her neck, and he felt her pulse beating under his touch as he took off his machete with his right hand. “Sleep a bit. I need to take a break before it begins.”

She twisted her neck before she roughed out his name. “Rick—”

His lips found hers, and Rick cut her off, leaving the blade on the counter beside the sink as he made her twirl in his embrace fully. He didn’t want to talk. He just wanted to have her in his arms, wanted to kiss her. Turning around, he started moving them. The den was just across from the kitchen, tucked in the corner under the staircase beside the pantry of the house. Crossing the hall quickly, still kissing her, Rick reached around her to open the small room and made them walk inside.

The room was tiny, spartanly furnished. It only had a couch and a tiny folding table and chairs beside the tall floor-length window that faced the backyard with more colorful flowers. Rick couldn’t care less. Catching the nape of her neck to deepen the kiss, he moved them towards the couch blindly and only realized he arrived when the backs of his knees hit the furniture.

He fell backward then, tightening his other arm around her waist to bring her down together with him as his back hit the couch a second later.

He just wanted to sleep, rest his eyes for a second, have her in his arms, feel her savory breath, feel her warmth. It was so cold. He was so cold. He needed her warmth. He needed her close. Closer. Before he knew it, he twisted them around and climbed on her.

“Rick,” she whispered, moving her head away from his lips as his left hand went to her belt, and he started unbuckling her pants.

“Rick—” Her hands caught his hand at her belt and tightened her fingers.

Rick snapped his head up. “Rick..” she breathed out his name again. “We-Aaron can come in any minute,” she muttered in a heated whisper. “Carl is just outside—and the others. Judith.”

Rick gazed at her. It’d been weeks. More than three weeks since their last time. Each time he’d tried, Amanda had stopped him. The questions were turning in his mind, he knew she needed time. He knew they both needed time, but he’d missed her. Missed her warmth, missed being with her, missing being inside her…

The rejection hurt, too, even though he told himself it shouldn’t. It was hard. For both of them. She was still having muscle pain even though she acted like she didn’t. She’d gradually stopped crying in his arms, but her muscles were still feeling the strain. They had suffered a lot, lost their home, lost their people. Maggie…

“It’s ‘kay,” he told her, rolling himself off her, but tugging her to his chest. She came willingly like she always did, draping herself across his body, her head on his chest. Rick bowed his head and kissed the top of hers. “Let’s sleep a bit,” he murmured, closing his eyes.

He wanted to rest. Just a bit. That was what he’d wanted in the first place. Sex wasn’t on his mind. He just wanted to sleep with her a bit. Amanda scooted up closer to him, looping a leg through his, fidgeting on her side to nestle herself in the best comfortable position. Rick smiled faintly, his eyes still closed. Sometimes she reminded him of cats, coming and going as they pleased. His fingers started making lazy patterns across her back.

Whatever happened, would happen, he told himself. Amanda was right on that. He could loosen up a bit—

A low tap at the door interrupted the thought. Alert, his head craned up as Amanda twisted hers backward, his hand already at his right hip, looking for the gun that wasn’t there. Rick only had his hunting knife and pocketknife now, with the machete left in the kitchen. For some unfathomable reason, they’d let them carry their blades. Amanda’s hand was at her holster's normal spot, too, checking her own.

“Hey, Rick—” they heard Daryl’s rough drawl before the next chapter came from the other side. “Aaron came. He says this Deanna woman wants to see ya.”

Rick stilled. Now?

“It isn’t even eight yet!” Amanda cried out, half drawing up from his embrace. “Couldn’t it wait?”

“I dunno—” Rick imagined Daryl’s shrug. “Aaron said now.”

Rick snickered. “Yeah.” He started standing up, moving Amanda upward in the meanwhile. “Of course.”

Amanda turned to him. “You don’t have to go now,” she hissed, standing up. “Tell him to come at a more decent time. After we start looking like human beings.”

Rick shrugged, standing as well. “Why bother? Let’s get it over with.”

She shook her head. “She’s doing it on purpose,” she insisted, blocking his way to the door. “I don’t know what game she plays, but she’s doing this on purpose.”

“I know,” Rick admitted with a shrug. “Let’s go find out.”

She didn’t move, looking unconvinced as she eyed him critically. “You said you wanted to sleep a bit.”

Something snapped in him. “Well, Amanda, I wanted something else, too.” He passed by her, heading to the door. “Want doesn’t always get.”

Briskly, he opened the door and left the room. It took Daryl only a second to understand he wasn’t in the mood, so wordlessly, his hunter friend started walking into the hall. Rick grabbed his machete on the way and looped it onto his duty belt as they stepped out onto the porch. Aaron was waiting with Joan. Rick nodded at him. “She wants to see me now?”

“If you don’t mind,” Aaron answered.

Rick gave him a terse look. “Well, never make a lady wait,” he roughed out as he stepped down from the porch. Aaron followed him.

The house Aaron led him to was at the other end of town, closer to the pond and the community building. As they walked, Rick slowly saw the hints of life resurfacing as the town slowly started waking up. A blonde girl in her mid-twenties appeared, suddenly jumping in front of them—one of the most beautiful girls Rick had ever seen with his own eyes.

She was wearing yoga pants with sneakers with an oversize loose top that draped down over her left shoulder, leaving it bare. In her ears, there were two interlocked C-shaped earrings, and her hair was up in a ponytail secured with a hair band. She was tall and slim with an attitude that looked more like it belonged to more of a cozy weekend than the end of the world.

In a way, she reminded Rick of Amanda, a younger, much carefree version of her as Amanda used to run at the prison in a similar fashion before their morning patrols… The thought irked him, a pang of…failure aching in his chest. Amanda should look like this, too! It was his job.  “Oh!” the young woman gasped, making little jumps, keeping herself warm to jog around the track of the town. “Mornin’, Aaron.”

Letting out a small, barely audible sigh, Aaron greeted her. “Hello, Beatrice. Are you alone today?”

She continued her small jumps in front of them. “Yeah, you know, Clarice,” she replied with a scoff, shaking her head exaggeratedly. “Lazyass. I keep telling her she has to work out more, but she never listens to me!” She paused and turned to him abruptly. “Newcomers?”

Aaron nodded. “Yes. I brought them last night.”

She gave him a big smile. “How nice! There are so few of us! It gets boring.” She laughed and turned to Rick again. “Hello, glad to have you here—” she paused for a second.

“Rick Grimes,” Rick supplied, remembering his manners.

“Nice to meet you, Rick,” she chirped with another smile, jumping back away from them. “See ya around,” she bellowed out before she turned around. “Bye, Aaron. Say hi to Deanna for me!” Then she started running down the track.

Rick turned to Aaron. The recruiter sighed deeply. “She’s never left the walls,” the man explained as they started walking again. “She and her sister were originally from the capital. But her parents used to have a house here. The sisters were here when it started. Their parents didn’t make it.”

Rick nodded. But the way she behaved. It still didn’t make sense. “You said she’s never left the walls,” he repeated, before asking openly. “You mean you got people here who have never seen how it is outside?”

Aaron cleared his throat lightly. “Um. Some of us don’t need to—like Beatrice and Clarice—”

Rick narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“They, uh, well, Alexandria sort of belongs to them.” Rick faltered in his steps. “Her father’s construction company,” Aaron went on. “The Reese Construction. They built Alexandria. They presold all the houses before the project finished, but the ownership was still with the company. Technically—uh—she’s more like our host. Deanna gives the sisters a bit of slack for that.”

Rick shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that anymore,” he bit off. The girl was going to end up as walker food if she kept behaving like that. “This isn’t the old world anymore. Alexandria—it doesn’t belong to them anymore.”

Nothing truly belonged to anyone anymore. Rick remembered the katana sword that Carl carried now. Michonne had found it lying around, then Carl had it. But nothing truly belonged to them anymore. It was a world of supply runs now, of finder keepers, of who claimed first—

Rick stopped the line of thought as soon as it appeared in his mind. Aaron’s expression tightened, but he gave Rick a nod. “Perhaps,” the man admitted.

Rick nodded. “You said some of us don’t need to,” he remarked instead as they started walking again. “The others?”

“Uh, some of us aren’t…preferred to unless it’s urgent.”

Twisting his head, Rick gave the recruiter another look. “Aren’t preferred?”

“Deanna doesn’t like to take risks, either,” Aaron said. “For example, you have a baby girl and a teenage son, that makes you entered on the priority list by default.”

“Priority list?” Rick echoed the words through clenched lips.

“It isn’t how it sounds like,” Aaron assured him. “Deanna could explain better, but if something happens to you outside the walls, and she’s left with a baby and a teenager…” The man’s words trailed off. “It happened once with a single dad. We got stranded with a five-years-old. The Johnsons, an elderly couple, adopted the kid, but it made Deanna scared of another case.”

Aaron cleared his throat as Rick thought about the issue. He figured they had a point.

“Deanna probably will ask you to stay inside as much as possible,” the recruiter mused out loud. “She needs you inside anyways,” the man stopped as if understanding he’d already...explained too much. “I’m sure you will discuss it all in time,” the younger man said, closing the discussion.

Rick let it go. He couldn’t afford to think ahead that much. First things first. One step at a time. He wasn’t still sure if this was the place that they would settle in…finally. The town looked good, but Terminus had taught him to beware of the ones that looked good.

They stopped in front of another two-story house at the end of the left row, the one that had a clear view of the pond. Alexandria’s ground had a gentle slope. The house was at the top of the hill, so the view was open and wide as Rick suspected. It also looked bigger than the houses they’d settled them in.

Aaron walked him up the driveway that led directly to the garage, lined with flower beds on each side. They made a little turn to the left and moved towards the wide porch, and Aaron buzzed the doorbell.

A curvy youngish blonde woman opened the door a few seconds later. “Hello, Aaron,” she greeted them, her eyes moving towards Rick. But she didn’t speak to him.

Aaron made the introduction again. “Hello, Denise.” He turned to Rick. “This is Denise. She’s Deanna’s assistant and a psychologist.” Rick remembered Aaron’s words in the barn. He gave a terse nod as he scowled. He hated this interview idea more every second.

Aaron didn’t move as Denise moved away from the door. Instead, the recruiter turned to him. “Well, I’ll catch up to you later.” He turned to go as Rick stepped onto the porch.

“Hello, Sheriff Grimes,” the psychologist said, but Rick cut her off.

“I was a sheriff’s deputy,” he corrected.

“Sorry—” she smiled weakly. “Sometimes it gets all fuzzy.”

“It’s okay.”

The woman led him inside another dining-living area similar to theirs, but only bigger, more spacious, and decorated with much more…finesse. “Please, have a seat.” She pointed at the armchair in front of the bookshelves on the other side of the room in front of a large, comfy couch. “I’ll let Deanna know you’re here.”

With that, the younger woman left him alone in the room. Rick made a tour, checking around. At the long dining table, there were open books, along with drawings, charts, and maps. Over one of the charts, he spied a handwritten map of Alexandria. On a quick look, Rick understood it was plans for expansion. His eyes caught a script in Latin, but its meaning wasn’t something he recognized. He picked up a book on construction, and another for medication. Leaving them on the table, Rick went to check the bookshelves.

The shelving was made of walnut wood spanning from the floor up to the ceiling, running the length of the wall. Rick suspected a person couldn’t even read all the books on the shelves even he tried for a lifetime. The books mostly were hardcovers, some of them were even leather bound. The former owner of the house must be a bibliophile by the look of things. Rick wondered if they would work on it. Knowledge was as important as food, walls, and meds now.

Moving away from the shelves, Rick continued his survey. He padded towards the floor length window and checked outside, and somehow he wasn’t surprised to see the houses they’d settled in clear sight when he pivoted himself in the right direction. Scowling, he put his hand on the machete again, almost drumming his fingers as he leaned his weight on his one leg, his hips jutted.

On the porch, Amanda, Carl, and Beth had joined Daryl and Joan. Amanda was holding Judith again as his baby girl had woken up, too. The others were slowly coming out as well after waking up. He saw Sasha and Bob, coming up with one of the boys from Terminus.

On the streets, there were more people as the fashionable blonde girl made laps on the track. Across from Deanna’s house, Rick saw an elderly couple coming out to their porch, the white-haired man holding a five-year-old girl’s hand kindly. The scene disturbed him in way more than he could imagine, remembering Aaron’s words.

Shaking it off, Rick searched the surrounding area more. The bell tower he’d glimpsed before inside the perimeters was more in clear sight at this angle. It would make a good lookout spot to check around. He made a mental note to look for it as at his back, he felt a gaze. Standing still, Rick moved his eyes from the tower and shot a look at the door, and saw Deanna Monroe.

Unlike last night, the old woman looked more in her element. She was clad in a comfortable, but expensive-looking day suit, classic pants, and a tweed jacket, wearing reasonable flats, and her whole look was complete with pearls. For a second or so, she reminded Rick of his own mother, the way her mother looked while they went to Sunday’s brunches with the family. The Grimes had never been rich, and his mother’s tweed jacket wasn’t brand name as Rick assumed Deanna’s was, but the resemblance was still there.

Rick turned his sight outside again. “Hello, Rick—” she called out to him with a gentle, kind voice as Rick watched the outside. “I hope you found the accommodations to your liking.”

He gave out a scoff, giving the woman a look. Walking inside, the old woman stopped beside the camera as the psychologist settled in a chair at the table. “This is Denise. She’s our psychologist,” Deanna made the introduction again. Neither of them interrupted her to say it was unnecessary. “She supervises the interviews.”

Rick decided not to be bothered by it. Whatever would happen, would happen. He was here now. They were here now. His family.

His eyes found the walls as he gave her an indifferent nod. “Yeah, Aaron mentioned.”

“Do you mind if I film it?” the woman asked.

This time Rick looked at the woman fully. “For transparency,” she said, and Rick didn’t buy it. “We also record the interviews.” Rick turned to look outside again, and his gaze found his family.

He waved his hand, his eyes on Carl, Amanda, and Judith… “Go ahead.”

The woman made a full arc to walk around the couch. Rick caught her gaze flicking toward the window before she gave him a small smile and asked, “Shall we begin?”

Giving his family one last look, Rick walked to the armchair in front of her and sat down. Yeah, let’s begin.

Chapter 2: 'You should’ve just killed them'

Summary:

While he makes the interview that would determine their fate in the town, Rick gives the town's leader an opinion of the world they live in now. Waiting for Rick's return, trying to figure out Alexandria, Amanda has a moment with Carl.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

After Rick left with that clean boy scout, Daryl stayed on the porch. Joan was still there, leaned against the railing, watching Rick leave with a skeptical look, her dark eyes narrowed. Daryl wasn’t sure if he liked the look. Joan was a weird woman, withdrawn, but also brutally open, while still being laid back in a way. Besides Carol, Michonne, and Shepherd, she was one of the rare women who had actually managed to surprise him a few times. There were times in the woods when Daryl suspected she was going to throw in the towel and admit defeat, like the time he’d made her eat a mud snake and then snails, but each time, Daryl was…surprised.

The moment of her hand in his came to him suddenly, but Daryl shooed it away. He didn’t know shit about what it meant, why she’d done it, why he’d done it, or why he had even told her about that childhood memory. His eyes found her again as she still watched Rick walk, her expression thoughtful.

She also did that a hell lot. Watch them, Rick and Shepherd. She swept a look at him, turning aside. “What happened?” she asked. “Did they have another fight?”

Daryl shrugged. If he started counting the fights those two had, he couldn’t get shit done all day. “I dunno. They came out of the den like that.”

“I thought they made up after last night.”

Daryl shrugged again, remembering how he’d interrupted them this morning in the den. “They might’ve tried…” he drawled out. Joan gave him a look. “Busted ‘em,” he said, perching in the corner of the railings. “Aaron was waiting.”

He rested his back on the beam as Joan gave him another look. “Well, let’s hope this finishes soon, Amanda gets her shit back together, and starts screwing him again before he blows up.”

Daryl stared. Joan shook her head with a sigh, coming closer to the corner he was perched on. “Now, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed she’s been running away from him like a plague for weeks.”

“Yeah—” Daryl gave her a half nod. He’d noticed, but he had also noticed them slipping away each night after midnight… “But they were—”

Joan cut him off. “They weren’t having sex. Read the signs—” She imitated his tone when he taught them in the woods. “Besides I sort of asked her once. She admitted it. Said it’s too much.” She paused. “But I think she meant he’s too much.”

Too much information, way fucking too much information. He cleared his throat. He didn’t want to know fuck all about Rick’s rom-com melodrama. “It ain’t our business.”

The look Joan gave him back was not one of humor or disinterest. She looked as taciturn as when she’d informed him that she wasn’t going to fuck him to compensate him for their lessons. “But it is,” she insisted. “They’re all over the place. I don’t want them to blow up in our faces. They need to cool off.”

There was that thing with the woman, too. Just Daryl started thinking that she actually had a kind, gentle heart, Joan managed to sound like a selfish bitch.

She reminded Daryl a bit of Carol, too, more like a brazen fire, when she’d admitted that she’d wanted to escape Grady because she was fearing her boyfriend was going to kill her, or she was going to end up killing herself, but something told Daryl that he wouldn’t have been surprised if she killed the man instead at the end. Sometimes Daryl also wondered if Carol would’ve ever snapped with Ed, if things had been different.

Joan sighed another time and added with a barely audible voice. “Rick doesn’t look like a guy who would take a breakup well.”

In those words, Daryl felt it, too, as stark as it was, fear. Joan was afraid. She was afraid that Rick would behave like her former asshole bastard for a boyfriend. Darting at her a look, Daryl shook his head. “Nah. Rick ain’t like that.”

“Amanda told me that once, too,” she replied. “But things…escalate.”

“Nah—” Daryl opposed again. “It ain’t the cloth he's cut from.”

She held his gaze for a second before she let out another subsided sigh. “Well, I guess I should trust your judgment on the issue. You seem to be good on that.” Their eyes found each other as Daryl shrugged away the compliment.

He didn’t know what else to do for that, so it looked like the best idea, but then she remarked, “You were right about Carol after all.”

His eyes snapped to hers again. She gave him a small, tight smile. Daryl stared. “So what happened?” Joan asked, turning her head aside.

She had pretty curls, Daryl noticed. Long, almost silky, if they were not caked with dirt, mud, and small pieces of leaves. It wasn’t the first time Daryl had noticed it, of course. He wasn’t an idiot, even though he acted like one sometimes. Joan was a pretty woman. He only didn’t realize what…pretty hair she had until now.

He made a low sound. “Rick—uh—we were talking about the houses. He mentioned Lori,” he explained. “Shepherd heard it.”

“Lori—” Joan asked. “She was his wife, right?” Daryl gave her a half nod, and she continued. “Ah. I guess it explains.”

“Uh.” Daryl shrugged, feeling like he was doing something he never did, gossip about people’s love life.

Daryl never cared. He made jokes, even crude, snide remarks time to time, but he never cared who fucked who even when they turned it into a disaster like Rick, Lori, and Walsh had done before. Perhaps he should have. Perhaps if he did, things would’ve been different. That thought caused him to struggle a bit, but at least there wasn’t anyone else involved with Rick and Shepherd this time to worry about.

“It wasn’t bad.” The words left his mouth, and he was fucking surprised himself before he went on. “She said maybe we could clean themselves first before the interviews. Rick said he didn’t give a fuck—” He paused. “In nicer words.”

Joan rolled her eyes, then shook her head. “But maybe we should. We don’t look very…presentable.”

Daryl lifted a shoulder. “I got nothing to prove.”

Her eyes darted over to him again, and they shared another quick look. Daryl thought he should stop it, because he felt like— Inside, Judith started crying. He twisted his head aside to the screen door. “Lil’ asskicker woke up.”

A brief smiled touched at her lips. “I’m shocked that she actually slept until now.”

Daryl let out a low chuckle as Carol stepped out to on the porch beside them. She looked…refreshed. Over her pants, she had a cardigan, a clean one. 

“By that temper, one would suspect she’s a Dixon, huh?” Carol asked, smirking at him.

Joan missed the hidden meaning of her words, but Daryl didn’t. “Wrong man to make a jab, Carol.”

Carol smiled sweetly. “I know.”

Daryl eyed the pink cardigan she was wearing. “Where the hell did you find that cardigan?” he asked.

“Upstairs,” Carol supplied. “There are some clothes inside the closets. Nice stuff.  They left it here. The house seems like a getaway escapade for the weekends.”

Daryl tried to imagine how it would be having a house like this as a hole up place. He didn’t say it out loud of course. He only shrugged once more. Carol looked outside. “I wonder if they’d mind us taking a tour,” she mused.

“No one said we couldn’t—” he pointed out.

Carol fixed a finger at him. Judith ceased crying inside. “Right.” Carol turned to the door. “Mika, I’m going out,” she called inside. “Wanna come?”

The little girl stepped out brazenly, holding the doll Shepherd had brought to her as tightly as she always did, but suddenly hesitated at the threshold.

Fidgeting, her gaze cut inside the house. “Can I, Amanda?” the girl asked. Daryl couldn’t hear the answer properly, but when Mika took Carol’s hand with her free one, he understood she was cleared for some expedition. Carol turned to them. “You two coming?”

They both shook their heads at the same time. Carol’s eyes narrowed for a fraction, a quick, fleeting thing before she relaxed. Daryl watched them walking away as they left the porch, still hand to hand. People had started coming out slowly from the other houses. Daryl saw a girl around Joan’s age in sports attire making laps in the track, her blonde ponytail swinging in the wind as she ran…

Joan’s eyes trailed towards the girl, following his attention before they moved back to him. With a darting look, Daryl could swear he saw a touch of scowl at the corner of Joan’s mouth. “Last night—” she remarked suddenly, turning her attention completely to him. “Last night you didn’t want me to come. Why?” she asked.

The question took him by surprise, and Daryl started at her… again… A cross expression shifted over Joan’s face. “Don’t you trust me out there to guard your back?”

Trust her to guard his back? Daryl hadn’t even thought of that. He never had anyone to watch his back, not truly. There was Merle, but Daryl always knew he could never trust his addicted brother to be there for him. He trusted Rick. He trusted Carol, but…

No. Daryl had always been there for them, kept them safe, not the other way around. For Joan, he just hadn’t wanted her…to endanger herself.

Another conversation he had long ago in the prison almost found him, but Daryl shoved it away. “No, you did your part. Bob ‘asn't been doin' no shit. It was his turn.”

Joan nodded placidly. “Okay. This—” She gestured with her head. “This wouldn’t change anything, right?” she asked. “Between us.” His eyes snapped up to hers, Daryl spied she was losing her cool attitude. “Uh-I mean what we’ve had—” She paused again, breathing out. “I mean—you—you still want to teach me, right?” Daryl sensed a subtle unnamed fear in the question as he realized she was suspicious he would want to stop. “I can show you stuff, too, if you want. You know how to treat a wound, but—”

Daryl cut her off. “Nah—we’re good.” he assured her simply. If she wanted, she could show him stuff, but he didn’t want her to feel as if she had to, as if she was in his debt. Somehow the notion just bothered him. “It ain’t like I got anythin' else to do.”

The smile she gave him in return was a big one, and Daryl realized in that moment, Joan also had a very pretty smile.

# # #

Sitting on the couch with Judith on her lap as the baby girl tried to crawl away from her like she usually did, Amanda watched Mika leave with Carol. Mika strolling in this town irked her, but she told herself the little girl wasn’t alone. She was with Carol, and Amanda had to learn to let it go now.

Mika needed Carol, not her. In the ways that Amanda wasn't capable of, even with their last talk in the barn with the older woman, Amanda couldn’t deny that fact. Her gaze fell to her hands, recalling the way Carol made shadow puppets. Judith tried another escape attempt, sliding over her thighs, making those small baby puffs as Amanda held her and gently towed her back onto her lap.

Her eyes darted down, and she checked the rugs covering the hardwood floor. She wondered if they were clean enough to for Judith to crawl on. The room was littered with their stuff, and the floor seemed clean enough. She wanted to try, wanted to see if Judith could manage it. They’d tried it before a couple of times in the woods over their bedrolls. She settled the baby girl down on the rugs. Carl and Beth found her as she did.

They’d been making another tour of the house. Beth gave Judith a look, walking towards them. “You're making her crawl?”

Amanda nodded. “Seems clean enough. She’s been trying for a while.”

Beth nodded. But instead of trying to pull herself up on her hands and knees like she’d been doing all the time when they tried to keep her restrained, Judith just shifted herself upright and sat down on the rug. The cute thing stared at her owlishly.

Amanda smiled, shaking her head. “I swear she’s doing it on purpose.”

Beth and Carl smiled, too. Amanda looked at the baby girl. She was going to have to eat. There was a bit of smoked squirrel meat from last night they’d saved for Judith for the morning. They’d turned it into minced balls. They also had berries, but the baby’s diet was those for weeks.

Amanda wondered if she could go and find Aaron to ask for some food. Or diapers. The diapers that they’d found for Judith in the town when they’d gone to the food bank were finished weeks ago. A couple of times they found baby bags in the cars and once in a cabin, but in the end they had to switch back to the makeshift diapers Amanda prepared weeks ago. There were still a couple of clean ones she washed for the last in the creek. But if these people had babies or toddlers, would they share those supplies, too? Toys, baby stuff?

The thought almost made her go and find out, but she sat tight. She wanted to wait for Rick. The things were tense between them as it was, so there was no need to make it…more strained. Perhaps she just should go and take a shower.

She really couldn’t understand why those damn interviews couldn’t wait until they started to feel like she didn’t know…human beings again? Making them go there when they were like this?

It was cruel. The woman, Deanna, possibly wanted to get a clear image of them as they arrived in the town. Amanda got it. It didn’t make her feel any better. She didn’t need this shit!

Far worse, all of it had started reminding Amanda a bit of Grady. Let’s hope Deanna ain’t in the league of Dawn.

God! She feverishly hoped she didn’t force Rick to get into another nest of vipers. That tingling she’d felt with Aaron was still inside her, not a blazing alarm that made the hair on her back stood, but that buzz was resonating in her.

She tried to calm herself, trying to reach to the calmness she felt as Rick held her against his chest. But it only made her worse as she remembered how she rejected him again. First a wisp of anger, then stark hurt in those clear blue eyes before he hid it. But what the hell was he thinking? Were they going to have sex in that little room while all their people were sleeping in the living room? While Carl was just beside them! Judith! Beth!

He’d said he wanted to sleep a bit, rest. Amanda wanted to, also. Last night was the first night in weeks she didn’t wake up in his arms before dawn. The first night she hadn't slept with him. She missed him. But dammit! She wasn’t ready for that yet! She didn’t even know why! His hand went to her belt, and she just panicked again. Panicked about sex! How pathetic was that!

Her eyes roaming over the place, her thoughts from last night found her, what Rick had told her. Amanda twisted her head back and looked at the door, seeing a glimpse of the staircase that led upstairs…towards the bedrooms. I really can’t wait to spend a whole night with you…

She whipped her head back.

Nope. Nope. Nope. That was thoughts for later. She was going to cross that bridge when she got to it. Perhaps she was even fretting over nothing. Perhaps Rick wouldn’t want to share a room with her. He’d just said he couldn’t wait to spend a whole night with her in the same room alone. He hadn't made a specific timeline, hadn't said all nights.

There was Carl, too, who still looked at them with a sour expression like they ran over puppies whenever he saw them together. Nope. They couldn’t do it. Carl wouldn’t like it. And Beth—Beth needed her. Amanda had to be there for her. Beth couldn’t stay alone. She had promised. She’d promised to Maggie she would always be there for Beth. She wouldn’t leave Beth alone.

Yes. She was just being silly again.

“I want to look around—” Beth announced suddenly, standing up. Amanda closed her eyes for a split second, holding back a tired sigh. “You coming?” Beth asked Carl.

Carl nodded and started getting to his feet, too, before Amanda interrupted them. “No. Both of you. Sit down. No one leaves until Rick returns, and we finish these interviews.”

Beth gave her a pointed look. “Carol did.”

“Carol is like a fifty year old woman—” Amanda countered. “You’re seventeen. Sit down, Beth.”

Almost eighteen!” Beth protested, her voice showing off all of her ire.

“Almost doesn’t make you an adult magically,” Amanda bristled, her tone getting terse, too. For once, just for once, it would be nice if Beth just listened to her without a protest.

It wasn’t only her relationship with Rick that was suffering. With each passing week, the tension between her and Beth had increased. A day didn’t pass before they started bickering.

Her eyes blazing with a blue fire, Beth gave her a cold look in defiance. “I don’t have to listen to you—” the teenage girl seethed out.

The correct answer would be perhaps admitting it, but Amanda didn’t want to. “Beth, sit down,” she repeated instead and tried to find a common ground. “When Rick comes back, we’ll look around. I want to find some stuff for Judith, too.”

“I don’t want to wait—”

Amanda almost uttered out what Rick had informed her, that want didn’t always get but held it back at the last moment. Perplexed, she looked at the teenager, but help came this time from an unexpected place. “Maybe Amanda is right—” Carl remarked, clearing his throat. “Perhaps we should wait until Dad returns.”

Color her shocked, but Carl actually sounded like a sensible child. “Uh—yeah,” she muttered as Beth exclaimed: “You slipped away in the prison on our first day, Carl!”

“Yes, I did,” Carl replied. “But it doesn’t make what I did right.”

Her ire directed at Carl now, turning away from Amanda, Beth slanted a seething look at him and stormed over to Noah and his gang. Carl stared at her back.

Amanda turned to Carl. “Uh—thank you,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

Not looking at her, Carl settled on the rug beside Judith. “You were right,” he said slowly, holding his sister’s hand. “We should wait.”

As Judith started wheezing louder, a smell wafted up. When the baby raised her tiny arms up to them to pick her up, Amanda realized she had pooped. Carl eyed his sister with a squinted look as Amanda stood up and bent down towards her.

Whenever Amanda wasn’t with them, it was usually Rick, Carol, or Beth who changed Judith’s diaper, so Carl really looked alarmed.

Judith almost jumped in her arms before Amanda scooped her up. “It’s okay. I got it,” she muttered, half hiding her face beside the crook of Judith’s neck. Usually when she took care of Judith, Carl also tended to get lost, so it felt a bit weird. It was one of the things that was easier being in the woods, Amanda realized.

Being inside the same house was going to make avoiding each other harder. With that thought, Amanda realized how much they’d been avoiding each other. But it wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on at the moment, so instead, she took the baby with her backpack from the couch and started walking towards the bathroom. Her hand felt a bit of wetness under Judith’s bottom as she climbed the first step of the staircase.

It was okay. They had spares. They’d found two sets of baby pajamas two weeks ago in another hunting cabin, not too thick, not too thin, perfect for the climate. Judith still had her faded pink cardigan and blanket from the funeral home, so the clothes weren’t that much of a problem. They’d manage.

When she was in the middle of the staircase for the bathroom upstairs, Carl’s voice stopped her. “Amanda—” Propping Judith against her hip as the baby wrapped around the crook of her left elbow, Amanda returned. “C-can you—uh show me?” Carl asked, giving her a sheepish look. “I want to learn.”

For a second or so, Amanda couldn’t understand what she’d been asked to do, then the next second, the penny dropped. But still for a moment, she stared at Carl, couldn’t wrap up her mind around the idea. She taught guns and knives, how to duck, how to run zigzags, how to block a coming attack. Carl had never even been to one of her classes in the prison. Amanda had never showed him a damn thing before. Now this?

Changing his baby sister's diapers? The idea was so strange, so bizarre, so…mind blowing, she couldn’t help but open her mouth and gawk at him like an idiot. Carl’s expression shifted. “Forget about it—” the teenager brattled. “It was a stupid idea.”

Regaining her senses, Amanda cried out before he made a move to turn. “No!” She paused, heaving out a short, hitched breath. “I—I’m sorry. Of course, I can,” she finished lamely as Carl stopped in his retreat. “Please, come,” she added when he didn’t move.

Carl must’ve believed in her imploring tone because he restarted climbing the steps. The master bedroom had an en-suite bathroom, and downstairs had a powder room tucked beside the den and pantry, but the main bathroom was the first door at the left side of the landing hall. The master bedroom was in the small part of the house, too, at the farthest corner at the right side, facing the bathroom. Angling the bathroom, a few meters away beside the master bedroom, there was another bedroom. The third bedroom was at the other side of the hall.

Three bedrooms, one main shared bathroom, one en-suite bathroom, one powder room, and a small parlor. The thought of sharing of the space rattled her cage again, but as Carl walked beside her, Amanda held on her nerves.

The bathroom was big enough. It had a shower and a large jacuzzi bathtub at the same time, having a luxurious layout. Like the rest of the house, it was carefully decorated with delicate furniture Amanda had only seen in magazines or on TV before. All of the town was the same so far, much like she expected; the luxury lifestyle she would’ve never imagined herself to live in—

Before she could stop herself, the words flashed in her mind. Lori used to dream about us living in one of them one day.

God, it hurt. It still did, even after what she’d learned, even after everything they’d been through, even after she knew how Judith was alive and breathing now, it fucking hurt, and she fucking hated it. Hated that she felt like this and the fact that she couldn’t help her own damn feelings!

It came like a blow to her guts, a hard, cold stone dropping in the depths of her stomach. That was the life Rick used to dream about with his wife. The life they could’ve had if things were different. What would Amanda have had? Just a couple of meaningless, mindless quickies when she felt herself bothered or bored enough to get laid—and her goldfish.

This could’ve been Rick’s life, but not hers. Never. The truth almost made her drop on her knees and started crying again. Maggie’s words turned in her mind with Rick’s in a loop: I want more. This isn’t a living. Lori used to dream about us living in one of them one day.

She made a sound. Suddenly breathing had become such a chore, with no breath left in her lungs. “Hey—you okay?” Hearing Carl’s concerned voice brought her out of her semi panic attack.

Amanda breathed out deeply, focusing herself on the tiles to calm down, her fingers gripping Judith tightly. She—they needed time. Time.

She heaved out another breath. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just tired—” she sputtered out. “Couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Me too—” Carl admitted.

Amanda jerked her head in a brief nod. “I think none of us did for real,” she replied as she headed for the sink. “It’s understandable.” She checked the marble surface and felt the cold under her touch before she twisted aside towards the teenager.

“Can you check the shelves?” Amanda asked, gesturing with her head the cabinets on the wall. “They might stash some towels here. The marble is too cold for Judith.”

Carl nodded. “Yeah.” He opened the first cabinet next to him and found it empty. They got lucky on his second try. He took out a soft, sturdy white towel that looked like it was for hair drying. He handed it to her. Amanda shook her head and gestured again at the sink. “Lay it down over there.”

“Now this might be better if we do it in the bed,” she remarked. “But Judith pooped a bit,” she continued with a smile. “Without a proper changing table, things might get a bit…messy.”

She made a mental note to ask for a bassinet or a crib with a changing station for Judith. For the quick tour they’d made in the house last night, Amanda couldn’t see one. Judith needed one. Amanda lay Judith down on the towel after Carl finished his job.

Amanda eyed the shower as well, before she started changing. “Can you check the water?” she asked. “If they have hot water up here, too, we might give her a quick bath for her bottom.”

Judith would like that. They cleaned the baby girl whenever they found enough clean water after warming it over a fire, but it was never enough. A couple of times, the baby even had chaffing from diaper rash, which made Amanda feel like wanting to kill a few walkers in anger.

She wondered while lowering the baby’s pajama bottom if they might also have talc powder or something for baby skin care, at least some kind of oil. She peeled off the wet garment as she gestured Carl again at her backpack. “There are clean diapers inside. Can you pass me one?”

Carl found one from her pack and handed it to her as Amanda threw the dirty, wet pajama bottom onto the tiles beside and half under the sink.

Carl neared her as Amanda drew back a little when Judith was free of her pants. “Okay,” she started with a voice she hoped was reassuring. “I know it looks frightening, but it isn’t that hard,” she continued. “In fact, it becomes much easier after a few tries. I was changing diapers when I was ten or something.”

Carl’s head snapped up at her. “Really?”

Amanda nodded. All in honesty, changing diapers was the easiest thing with the babies. There were far more stress inducing and helplessness triggering stuff, like infant gas, cutting teeth, fever, and the nights after they had their vaccines. Or simply being babies, crying whenever the mood struck.

Come to think of it, given their circumstances, Judith wasn’t even that much of a challenging baby. Amanda had seen worse. She had a temper, but she wasn’t a gassy baby. She hadn’t started cutting teeth fully yet, but Amanda guessed that was going to be an experiment they all were going to live through together now.

She started unfastening the clips. They were tiny fishing hooks they’d found. After boiling them in the water, Rick had turned them into the little clips to pin the side of the diapers. Amanda showed Carl how to relieve the baby as clearly as possible, giving him tip notes.

“Admittedly, girls are a bit easier,” she remarked, unlatching the other clip. “With you boys, the risk of getting pee in your face is bigger.” She laughed as Carl looked frightened as he understood her. “So not to take the risk, always cover her bits as much as possible. Though, at same time, you just have to roll with it.”

“Can she do it?”

“If she stays undiapered enough, or if she wants,” Amanda admitted. “There’s no guarantee. Perhaps it’s more like a reflex that they feel when they find themselves free of clothing or diapers.”

“Has she ever done it to you?”

Amanda laughed. “Once—” she replied. “I’m usually quick enough, but well, like I said, it happens to everyone.”

“The first time it happened, I was like ten, I think. It was around my first time,” she started recounting as her hands began pulling the makeshift diaper from under Judith. “It was a newborn boy. Our foster parent was a lady who was pregnant herself, and she couldn’t find any energy to do anything. So we used to take care of the little one mostly. I opened his diaper, and he just peed in my face,” she said, turning her head aside toward Carl, a small smile over her lips. “I was so shocked, I cried a full hour.”

She disposed of the smelly, heavy cloth diaper inside the bathtub’s edge as Carl made a face. Amanda wiped the baby’s bottom with toilet paper from the bathroom. As she tugged Judith’s pajama top up over her belly, she twisted half to the teenager again. “Your father said you peed in his face once—” she commented, still smiling. “Said he was shocked, too.”

“Really?” Carl asked with widened eyes.

Scooping up the baby girl, Amanda nodded. “Yeah.” She jerked her head at the shower. “Turn on the water. Warm. Not too hot. Never wash babies with hot water. They don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it, either.”

“That’s very convenient—” Amanda shot back with a smirk, throwing one leg inside the shower, holding Judith again around inside the crook of her elbow as she took the shower head with her right hand.

Carl arranged the water’s temperature and Amanda checked the spray at the back of her wrist. “Always check the temperature on the inside of your wrist and over your forearm,” she explained further. “Especially with formula and such. If it doesn’t hurt your skin, then it’s safe to give it.”

The teenager nodded. Together they washed Judith’s bottom side as the baby girl squeaked happily. Judith was one of those babies who liked water. Carl bundled her in another towel after they finished.

When she lay Judith down on the towel, Amanda stepped aside and let Carl handle the clean diaper. She warned him twice. The first time was for wrapping the sheet around her too loose. “If it’s loose, it’d seep through her thighs and groin. Would chaff her skin.”

The second time was because he folded her too tight with the clips. “No. This is too tight. You’d give her a tummy ache.”

The third try was the charm. He did it correctly, and Amanda gave him her okay. “Well done. We’re okay now.”

Carl eyed the diaper in the tub suspiciously. “What’s gonna happen to it?” he asked.

“Leave it there—” Amanda replied nonchalantly. “I’m gonna deal with it later.”

Carl’s eyes widened, catching up with her. Amanda wondered what he thought until now. That they’d picked diapers off the trees? “It—I—” He stopped for a second before he concluded. “You don’t have to do it. I can do it.”

They shared a brief glance, before Amanda leaning down, held up Judith again. “No, I don’t,” she replied.

The truth was she didn’t have to, but she wanted to. She’d said once that she genuinely cared for them, and she hadn’t lied. She could do this for any child who needed her help, but there was a part inside her growing, whispering at her that they weren’t any children, they were Rick’s. She wasn’t sure what that meant, so she gave the teenager a soft smile. “Let’s go.”

When they started downstairs, calmed down, draped over her shoulder, Judith started playing with her hair. Amanda thought of the food inside her pack when Carl suddenly asked before they stepped out in the corridor. “Will you start your classes like in the prison again?”

The question took her by surprise as she looked at Carl. She didn’t know. She didn’t have any idea what she was going to do. What she was going to do with her life now. I prowl, scavenge, kill rotters—

She shook her head, stopping the mantra. “Uh. I don’t know. Aaron mentioned Deanna would appoint us jobs,” she replied, deflecting the question. “I don’t know what she would want me to do.”

It wasn’t a lie, although she had a very educational guess what she would be entitled to in the end. Doing legwork, like she had always done. Take watches, go on patrols, participate in supply runs, kill rotters, take out the trash…all the usual stuff.

She was a cop. That was her job. Serve and protect. She was a foot soldier. They gave her orders, and Amanda saw them done. Amanda Shepherd got shit done, no questions asked. There was a reason why even Gorman wanted her back in the end.

But none of it gave her a clear answer what she wanted to do. She would say she would like to train people, but she didn’t know. She felt like she needed to train herself, too. She’d fucked up big time after the prison. Total uselessness. The helplessness she felt in the woods alone when they thought Rick had sacrificed himself to save them—

The despair in the depths of her stomach, or how she couldn’t do shit when they claimed Beth and forced Carl on her. She could never let that happen again. They weren’t safe. No one was ever safe. Never take anything for granted.

Her thoughts started twirling away, and shaking her head, she pushed herself out of it. She breathed out and turned to Carl. “Why do you ask?”

Carl shrugged, leaning over the staircase’s railings. “I don’t know. If you start again, I thought I might join up this time.”

The thought gave her another panic, much like she’d felt first when he asked her to show him how to diaper the baby, only tenfold worse. She swallowed. “I—I don’t know,” she muttered. “It’s too early to talk now,” she went on, deflecting again. “We talk about it later, ‘kay?”

Carl nodded.

Without any further talk, they fed Judith, then left the living room when it became crowded as Judith started making a fuss. Beth joined them this time, still giving her a cold shoulder after their last bickering. Amanda pretended not to notice.

Outside, they stood on the porch and watched the waking town. Judith was still with her. Carol and Mika returned a few minutes later. Standing between them, between her people, Amanda tuned out the small talk, instead just looking at the town.

There was a young woman in the streets, slender, tall, beautiful, her hair fully up in a ponytail, a woman Amanda envied strongly. Though it wasn’t because of her looks or the blissful way she looked like she didn’t have a single care in the world. No. Amanda felt jealous because the woman was doing the only thing she wanted to do right now in the whole world.

Her feet barely touching at the red tartan, the woman was running.

# # #

“Were you out there since the beginning?” was the first thing Deanna Monroe asked.

Rick raised his eyes and jerked his head in half nod as he settled himself in the armchair gingerly, wondering what kind of a game they’d started playing. “Yeah—”

“How did you all find each other?” she asked further. “Did you know each other before or—"

Realizing where she was going with it, Rick cut her off. “We didn’t know each other before. Some of them--we’ve been together since the beginning,” he stated with a firm, stern voice that he hoped that would get his message across loud and clear. “They’re my family.”

Deanna nodded as if she did. “Aaron said you were a sheriff’s deputy,” she remarked. “Where was it?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Rick replied. “Who I was, what I was, it doesn’t matter anymore.” He paused before adding, “You should ask who I am now.”

How many walkers he’d killed? How many people he’d killed, and why? Those were the questions that mattered now.

The old woman in return gave him one of her smiles again; gentle, kind—trying… It started pissing Rick off. “I’m getting there. But first I want to know who you were.”

“Why?”

The woman’s blue eyes found him before she answered after a brief pause. “I was a congressperson before. From Ohio. My family and I were trying to get back to our hometown so we could help with the crisis,” she started recounting. “The army turned us in one of the back roads. I lost my staff and my detail on the road that day. The army directed us here. They were supposed to come back—” She paused, letting a deep sigh, her words trailing off as she stopped fully. “They never did,” she began a couple of seconds later, her voice adopting the cool placid tone again, collecting herself. “But we had supplies here, so we made the best of it.”

“The wall—” Rick made a gesture with his head pointing outside. “Did you put it up yourself?”

In some places inside the twenty feet tall walls that circled the town, there were shorter masonry walls around three or so feet that possibly had protected the complex’s perimeters before the turn. They were lined with the trees and the height differed as Alexandria was set on a slope. It reminded Rick Shirewilt Estate’s walls that had been destroyed. It was a good thing that Alexandria had thought to reinforce their walls, the only redeeming point Rick had seen with these people so far.

“The walls of the town were shorter,” Deanna answered much like Rick thought. “We thought it would be better if we put up higher ones. The access gate was open, too. We knew we had to secure it. There was this huge shopping mall being built nearby with structural steel beams and plates. My husband, Reg, was an architecture professor at Georgetown University before this started.” The old woman slid over on the couch for a few inches to get closer to his armchair, leaning forward before she gave him one of those smiles again. “And you see who he was before mattered a lot.”

Rick’s eyes found her again as the woman continued smiling as if she had won a victory, and by the look of the things, Rick had to admit she had.

The plans, the books he’d seen on the table, Rick recalled, and realized they were still planning. He tried to read it as a good sign too. “We put the first beams up with my sons. It took days. We had help. People came. It wasn’t easy,” she went on. “In fact, Reg wanted us to use concrete material instead of plates, but we couldn’t. Didn’t have that much manpower, but in the end, we managed.”

Rick had to agree with that, too. “Yeah, you did—” he replied, but shook his head, remembering Terminus, remembering what path the good intentions had brought to them. “But you don’t understand. You have to protect what you have,” he warned the woman. “Because it's all about survival now. At any cost. There are people out there who will do anything to survive.” He paused for a second. “Sometimes even for fun.”

“They look for how to play on your weaknesses,” he continued. “Measure you by what they can take from you. By how they can use you for their own benefit. So bringing people into a place like this—”

“You’re telling me you can’t be trusted?” Deanna asked, staring at him curiously.

The look Rick gave her back was ad stern as his voice. “Last night you took nineteen people in. Sent us to the houses. If we wanted,” he stated in blunt frankness. “We could’ve hurt you last night.”

“My sons kept watches all night—”

“Three men at the backyard, two across the street,” Rick interrupted her curtly. “Two of them slipped off, fell asleep even before dawn. One just slacked off. The other two—” He shook his head. “Wouldn't have been enough. You shouldn’t have let us in. You can’t know if I’m to be trusted or not,” he concluded with the same blunt honesty.

But Deanna smiled at him again with that smile. “Rick, that’s what we’re trying to figure out,” she replied pointedly. “Don’t misunderstand. I don’t trust you. I trust Aaron. I trust his judgment. And Aaron says you’re still trying to be a good man—”

“Aaron doesn’t know me,” Rick countered, cutting off her again. “I’ve killed people. I don't even know how many by now.” He’d stopped counting long ago… “But I know why they're all dead. They're dead so my family, all those people out there, can be alive. So I could be alive for them.”

It was the truth he’d admitted to himself under moonlight that night, and hearing himself admitting it to another person, to a stranger aloud felt like a confession, and Rick didn’t know what that meant.

Deanna let out a small laugh, shaking her head, her smile still gentle. “It sounds like I wouldn’t mind being one of your family.”

His head whipped at her after the words, snapping out of his reverie as Rick looked at the woman.

Deanna shook her head. “But you still don’t understand,” the woman continued. “You’re skeptical. I understand that. We all have to be.” She moved over on the couch an inch closer again. “I’m optimistic, Rick, but not stupid.”

“That wall you see—” She gestured at the window. “We couldn’t put it up without help. We needed help. We still do.” She moved closer even further. “Do you really want to know why I let you all in?” she asked, staring at his eyes openly again, as blunt and frank as him.

“Because you need us,” he stated plainly. Because everyone had their own agenda now, the woman in front of him wasn’t different either. But at least she was honest.

Deanna nodded in agreement. “I gave Aaron a job. I told him to bring me a sheriff, and he brought you back. Now tell me, what kind of a leader would I be if I gave one of my people a responsibility and then didn’t listen to him?” She fixed him with another look, but this time there was no trace of gentleness on her expression, no trace of decorum.

Rick held her stare.

“A leader must know his weaknesses as much as his strengths. I can’t do everything myself. I need people to keep this place safe and secure. I’m not stupid,” she repeated again. “I know we’re not prepared. And that’s why I let you in.”

“What happened?” Rick asked then because he knew something did. “What did you do?”

“What makes you think I did?”

His answer didn’t change from the last time Rick had this conversation. “Because we all did something—” he replied simply. “If you want me to trust you, you have to tell me.”

Deanna nodded. “Fair enough. His name was Dave. He was one of the first comers. A big man, with big muscles, with a no-nonsense attitude. Ex-Marine.” She laughed, but it was a bitter one as she shook her head. “Must’ve built the half of the wall together with his pals. Three men. They worked hard. They killed the dead. They did stuff.” She paused for a breath. “I’m not going to lie. The wall wouldn’t have gotten finished in time without their participation. He protected us. Kept us safe. But it got to him, I guess.” And Rick knew the rest of the story. He’d heard it many times now.

“Let me guess—” Rick reflected. “They got unruly, uncontrollable, and you wanted them gone.”

Deanna sighed again. “We have single ladies here. Some of them are even mothers. More exposed than the others.” His face turned stiff. “I learned they started taking advantage of it. Told them to stop. He said they weren’t doing anything—without consent. Told him we had a different opinion on the subject.” She cleared her throat. “Long story short, I asked them to leave. He was so full of himself, he thought I couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t dare.”

She laughed again with that sternness, no trace of gentleness. “We set them up. Had them all tied up. My son—Aiden—he’s the chief of security now—was outside with his team, but we couldn’t wait. We had to act quickly. Aaron, Eric and Spencer—my other son—got them out to the woods.”

Before she continued, the leader paused, and she looked…tired. As tired as Rick. “Things didn’t work out well. They must’ve freed themselves. They attacked Aaron, Eric and Spencer. I almost lost them that night in the woods. They’re good boys, but they shouldn’t have had to deal with the likes of Dave,” she told him openly, then it happened again. Her expression lost its firmness, and that gentle, kind smile appeared. Rick understood the smile was her mask. “You see why I need a sheriff now?”

Rick made a sound. “You should’ve just killed them when you captured them,” he countered, standing up. They should just kill the sonofabitches when they had the chance. Rick had learned his lessons.

A cold chill ran inside the room since the first time he’d come inside. Deanne’s face lost her mask again as she stared at him in the eye. “We don’t kill people here, Rick.”

Rick made another sound and started walking out.

Deanna’s voice stopped him. “We still need to ask you a few more questions.”

He turned around. “More questions?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “I think I answered enough questions for one day. If it’s about job assignations—”

“We can talk about job assignations later,” she cut him off. “In any case, you should have this week off to cool down,” she continued. Rick gave a brief nod. The downtime would be good for them. “But—” Deanna went on, “Aaron mentioned one of your companions having a…cure—”

This time Rick interrupted her. “That’s a whole different discussion for another day,” he stated firmly. He couldn’t talk about Ford’s mission right now.

Deanna nodded. “I see. Okay. We do it later. But we still need to ask a few questions.” She turned to Denise. “Denise, please.”

The psychologist cleared her throat. “I just need to clear out a few personal issues. Like your birth date, where are you from, your blood type, relatives, etc.”

His jaw squared again. “My birth date, and where I come from don’t matter,” he repeated. “I’m A positive, and I have a son and a baby girl. Carl and Judith.”

The blonde woman nodded, quickly taking notes. Rick saw the paper in front of her was full of notes. “Yes. Aaron mentioned,” she muttered before asking. “No wife?"

His scowl deepened. “No,” he replied. “She didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry—” Rick gave a terse half jerk of his head as he saw Deanna watching him closely again out of the corner of his eye. “Children's blood types?"

"Carl is A positive like me, but we don't know about Judith."

The psychologist made a quick note, bobbing her head. "It's okay. We've got blood tests in the infirmary. We can find out," she remarked and asked again before Rick could even open his mouth. "No more family members?”

He sent a glare at the woman. Why did he have to repeat himself… “They are my family.”

The psychologist made another note. “Anyone you might want to specify?” she inquired further as Rick fully glared. “We’re open here to any kind of relationship.”

“It’s none of your business,” he snapped. He had nothing to hide. Rick had never wanted to hide anything with Amanda, even from Carl, but he wasn’t going to talk about his romantic life with these people. Especially that one.

Not taken aback, the psychologist nodded. “Is there anyone you would like to appoint as a guardian for your kids?”

If anyone asked that question before Rick would have broken their jaws, knocked out their teeth, but as he remembered what Aaron said, he just shook his head. “No. They know themselves.”

She knew herself, but Rick didn’t want to tell them that, either.

It wasn’t their business.

Notes:

I enjoyed a lot writing Carl and Amanda, and Daryl and Joan in this chapter, hope you liked it. The begining of this story is really all about adaptation to a semi-normal life again, especially a place like Alexandria, family issues, and such before things get heated again.

The first day will wrap up with the next chapter, as Amanda also will have her own interview, and they will meet other people in the town. And Rick and Amanda will finally have a talk, and a bit more :) I've already started editing it, probably will put it up within this week.
Until then.

Chapter 3: 'One way or another'

Summary:

Amanda gets her interview, and meets with other townspeople as they settle more in their first day in the town. When the day finishes, Rick makes up his mind about Alexandria and decides to take action to figure out his complicated relationship with Amanda.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When Rick returned from the interview, Alexandria had already turned to a buzzing hive. The word that new people had arrived last night must have spread fast around the town because Amanda saw them circling around their houses, darting them curious looks.

Under the close scrutiny, Amanda passed Judith to Carl as they were still on the porch. The last thing she needed right now that people assumed her as the mommy, inadvertently creating more drama between her, Carl, and Rick.

She needed to put some distance between them. Standing by the railings, she bowed her head, looking at the flowers in the yard. She really wished they could be done with these interviews.

All this waiting was making her feel like she was going to explode with stress. She raised her head and checked the track. It was empty now. Amanda wondered if she could go out herself and run, too, but running in the midst of these people while they kept circling around them like they were the new entertainment of the town would only put her more under the spotlight.

Amanda was opting to turn and walk inside, safely away from the curious looks just as she noticed it. The blonde woman on the track - she was coming up on the right side. In her hands there was a glass casserole dish. Inside the glass, Amanda could see a sort of cake if she squinted. The young woman had changed clothes, too. Now she was wearing skinny jeans over a loose blouse under a tank top, one side of her shoulder still bare. When she got closer on the sidewalk, Amanda saw her earrings and her necklace and recognized the interlocked C shapes, the logo of Chanel. Of course.

She made a little scoff, then realized the woman was actually en route to their house. Amanda stared as the rich girl walked up their driveway. Noticing her stare, their new neighbor threw her a big smile.

“Hiii!” All heads turned at her as her energetic voice echoed over them. Still smiling, not taken aback with their stumped looks, the young woman quickly stepped up to the porch and stood on the last step.

“I saw Aaron this morning. He told me about you guys. Thought I’d drop by and say hi—” She smiled again as they all kept staring at her. The woman looked at them, sensing the tense moment, and raised her hands. “Brought you cake!”

They still all stared… “Uh—”

Regaining her motor functions, Amanda moved and took the glass casserole dish. Inside she saw a cake like…tiramisu. She stared—stared—stared— “Tiramisu?”

“I wish we had mascarpone, but well, better than nothing, right?” she answered nonchalantly as Amanda snapped her head up to look at her again.

She must be a few years younger than Amanda, around Joan’s age, and she looked even more beautiful close up. Amanda wouldn’t have been surprised if she was some sort of model or something before the turn.

“Baked it last night,” she continued. “Used powdered milk, sugar, and honey, but our coffee is still good.” Her tone was still having that same nonchalant timbre, as if she really didn’t have a single care in the world, and all things considered, she didn’t look like she did.

A part of Amanda hated it, hated how the woman sounded, how she looked. It reminded Amanda of Beth when she’d come first in the prison, and that reminded her of how much she’d screwed up. Beth didn’t look like this now. In fact, Beth was glaring at the woman now.

Amanda decided to be nice. “Thank you. It—it’s been a while since we ate a dessert.”

“I imagine—” the woman replied, a compassionate expression crossing over her face. “They say it’s bad outside. It must be awful for you staying out there.”

They all stared at her again. “Ya never been out?” Daryl was the one who spoke out this time.

“Deanna doesn’t want us to go out. I was here when the virus started. Daddy wanted us to stay. They were abroad.” She sighed. “They were going to come, but—I don’t know. Perhaps one day—” She gulped as they elapsed into another brief silence.

“But I forgot my manners! I’m Beatrice Reese.” She pointed at the house across them towards the pond, one of the bigger houses uphill. Somehow Amanda wasn’t surprised, either. “I live there with my little sister.” She turned to Carl and Beth. “You two must be around her age. I’ll send her by so she can take you for a tour,” she told the teenagers. Then her eyes caught Judith, who was still in Carl’s arms.

“What a sweetling!” she cried out. “It’s been ages since I saw a baby.” She looked at Carl. “Can I hold her?”

“Um—” the teenager made an uncertain sound while Rick appeared in the driveway. Too taken with the scene Beatrice had created, Amanda hadn’t realized it.

Noticing Beatrice, Rick halted before the steps, looking at her. Then something Amanda wouldn’t have guessed even if she tried happened. Beatrice turned to Rick and smiled one of those big smiles.

“Hi, Rick—” she chirped as Amanda—as they all stared. “How was the interview?”

Something coiled in her stomach as Amanda frowned. “You know each other?” she asked briskly.

Beatrice didn't notlce her bristling tone or perhaps chose to ignore it. Instead, she smiled, cutting a look over to Amanda. “Had a quick chat this morning when Aaron brought him to Deanna. Otherwise—” She turned to Rick again, and her lips twitched up an inch further, almost flirtatious before she added, “That beard I wouldn’t forget.”

“Yeah. It’s a very unforgettable sight—” Amanda muttered lowly, spinning on her heel to go inside. She had other stuff to do than watching women flirt with him. He’d been away like what? An hour? And he’d found the town’s possibly most beautiful woman to make acquaintance with.

She scoffed, crossing the hall for the kitchen. She set the glass casserole dish on the island’s top and eyed the dessert. She wondered if Rick would mind if she gave some to Judith. Ever the suspicious one, he hadn’t wanted her feeding Judith with Aaron’s apple marmalade before without a trial.

Strong, toned arms and callous hands wrapped around her waist as Amanda weighted the idea. She didn’t react as she smelled him, sensing him behind her as if her body knew it was him even before her brain registered it.

Rick softly laughed in her ear. “You act very catty when you get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Hmm mm.”

“I’m not jealous of that ridiculous ditzy blonde!”

“Mean, Amanda—” He chuckled out in her ear again lowly. “Very mean.”

His lips trailed up over her neck towards the spot that made her shiver. Consequently, she did. “Rick—” she breathed out as his tongue flicked around under ear.

“Rick—” She almost moaned as he pressed her belly on the island fully as Amanda gripped the countertop’s edge. The sounds from the living room were in her ear as the handle of the first drawer poked into her pelvis. There was something else that poked into her back, as well, something very hard. “Rick—”

A cool breeze hit her as Rick took a few steps backwards. Turning over, Amanda saw him passing a hand over his face before he pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing it between his fingers tiredly. “Amanda, we—we need to talk.”

She bobbed her head in a half nod. There was no escape from it anymore. They couldn’t go on like this. “Yeah. After we’re done with interviews.”

Giving her a look, raising his head, Rick nodded, too. “How did it go?” Amanda asked a few seconds later. “How was she?”

“Like how we expected,” Rick replied. “Optimistic, but not stupid. Her words. I think I can agree,” he continued. “She knows what we’re dealing with, and she knows they need help. There are people here who have never saw the outside.”

“I know—” Amanda said, frowning, remembering what the blonde woman had said. “Beatrice said Deanna doesn’t want them to go out.”

Rick nodded. “Beatrice’s father used to own this place—”

“What?!”

Rick shook his head. “Yeah. But that’s not the thing. Aaron mentioned she’s got a priority list or something. I don’t know much. Deanna hasn’t mentioned it yet. But she isn’t really stupid. Perhaps a bit…naïve.” He paused. “Do you remember what Aaron told us when you asked him the questions?” Rick inquired.

Her eyes turning a bit more suspicious, Amanda nodded. Aaron had admitted killing in self-defense because they didn’t understand what kind of a place Alexandria was.

“I think I know the whole story now,” Rick went on. “They had those men. They started being a problem for her, started bothering women. Deanna sent them away. They set them up, then Aaron, Eric and her son took them out.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Amanda said at last after a pause. In fact, she wished she would’ve done the same with Gorman and his pals a long time ago, too.

“Yeah—” Rick agreed, resting himself against the wall, then stated, “She mostly wants a sheriff to deal with stuff like this.”

 The statement made her ponder on it for a few seconds. “Sounds…reasonable—” She paused. “But do you think she might have other problems as well?”

Rick gave a shrug. “Probably—” he said. “Either way, these people need a wakeup call.”

Amanda imitated his shrug, her eyes going towards the dessert on the countertop.

“I told her instead of sending them into exile, she just should’ve killed the men and been done with it—” Rick suddenly spoke again, his eyes finding hers.

She frowned. “Sending them to exile out there is as good as killing them, Rick,” she said. “You know that.”

But Rick shook his head. “It’s not as certain as killing them, though. She shouldn’t have taken the risk.”

For a second, Amanda couldn’t be certain if he was talking about himself and that sonofabitch that took what they had, ruined them, killed them - or Deanna. Amanda shook her head and gave him the only truthful answer she could find in herself at the moment. “Maybe.”

It was hard to know these days. Sometimes Amanda became really suspicious Rick would’ve killed Father Gabriel that night if she didn’t interfere. Sometimes she didn’t know. I warned him.

She remembered the holy man’s regret, and Rick’s words; doesn’t look like anything to me. No. It didn’t look like anything to her, either. But Amanda still didn’t want to see any more death. She was sick of death.

She let out a deep sigh. “Deanna—” she spoke, raising her eyes at Rick again. “Is she waiting for someone?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t mention anything.”

Amanda nodded and started walking out. “Where are you going?” Rick called out to her.

“To have a talk with her—” she yelled back as she walked on.

It was about time. She’d dawdled enough.

# # #

Five minutes later, Amanda was in front of Deanna Monroe’s house. It didn’t take long to figure out which house was hers. She followed the direction Beatrice had shown and Rick had tracked.

She rang the doorbell in front of the smaller porch and waited until the door was opened by a man around her age. Amanda vaguely remembered him from last night. It wasn’t the one who had been on gate duty when they had arrived, but his older brother, who had come out to meet them with Deanna. The one who had stationed men to monitor them last night. Adam or Aiden or something like that.

The dark-haired man eyed her critically at the door, his brows pinched. “I thought Mother hasn’t asked for anyone else yet,” he remarked slowly, twisting aside to look inside as if he was listening to something. “She’s still with Denise.”

Amanda shrugged. “Yeah. But I thought I might…hasten the pace a bit.”

Moreover, she would like to take a shower, change her clothes, and think. Just think. There was so much stuff she had to think about. The man gave her another look, and a half smirk jerked his lips upward. “Like it fast, huh?” he asked, adding a leer in the words to make sure his blatant innuendo didn't go unnoticed.

As if it was needed!

What was wrong with these people? Why they couldn’t help themselves but flirt with everything walking on two legs, Amanda had no idea. Perhaps they were really bored and they—with their dirty, smelly clothes, unkempt appearances, savage looks really brought new entertainment for them.

A scowl setting in her features, Amanda stared at the man blatantly. He was a handsome man. In a way, he was even more handsome than Rick; much younger, tidier, cleaner, with less…beard, but Amanda wasn’t really in the mood to play.

“Would you mind asking her if she’d be available to accept me now?” she asked as kindly as possible, forcing her tone and her face neutral. “I really would like this thing to be done so I can clean myself up a bit.”

That made the man laugh silently. “Yeah. I bet.” He pulled back from the door an inch. “Come on in then. I’ll ask her.”

Amanda waited inside in front of the door as he climbed the stairs quickly and vanished. From upstairs, she could hear a distinctive voice and a few minutes later, the oldest Monroe brother swept down the stairs, almost jumping from the last one.

He had that buzzing energy oozing out of him, much like Beatrice, only much more filled with testosterone. He also seemed to have some sort of training in his movements, Amanda read it quickly. She wondered if he ever served. Sometimes politicians’ children served in the military to make good publicity. She wouldn’t be surprised to hear it.

“Mother says she’ll be joining you in a few minutes,” he informed her, starting walking in the corridor. “I was going to make myself coffee. You’re welcome to join me until she comes if you want—” he continued as Amanda followed him. Their house seemed a lot bigger than the ones they were settled into, and Amanda wondered how many bedrooms they had. Wondered if it would be too much to ask for bigger houses as soon as they were brought in.

“If you don’t—” Monroe continued. “You can wait for her in the living room, too.”

“Tea would be nice, actually—” Amanda replied, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to make a little poking around, getting her bearings. “It’s been ages since I had some.”

He stopped short of crossing the kitchen’s threshold. “We must’ve sent you food—” He shook his head. “I thought Mother already did.”

“I don’t know. Maybe she did—” she countered. “I was upstairs—” She stopped not wanting to say she was dealing with Judith. “Had stuff. Or someone came by after I left.” She cleared her throat. “It was a bit of a mad day.” She paused again for a second. “Got a cake, though.”

Monroe laughed at that, shaking his head. “Let me guess. Beatrice, right?” Holding back a frown, Amanda gave him a searching look. “Bee loves to make new friends,” the man remarked, his voice laden with not a quite hidden sarcasm. “And she was getting…bored.”

He held his hand up, still standing at the kitchen’s door. “Aiden Monroe.”

Amanda took the offered hand and gave it a quick, but firm, shake, deciding to shrug off the comment about the rich blonde. “Amanda Shepherd.”

 His eyes narrowed as Monroe studied her closely. “Would you be that female officer Aaron mentioned by any chance?” he asked as he turned to walk towards the kitchen island.

“Of the Atlanta Police Department,” Amanda confirmed while he turned on the kettle.

Monroe gestured toward a sleek metal bar stool at the island as he took cups from a cabinet. Above their heads, there was a hanging rack that was full of wine glasses under the spotlights. It made her feel like she was in a sort of bar.

She settled on the stool as Monroe slid a white mug in front of her. “Do you have a preference?” he asked, opening a drawer under the island and started rummaging through it. “We got green tea, Earl Grey, a winter mix with cinnamon—”

Amanda cut him off. “Black is enough.”

“Black it is.”

When the kettle started whistling, Monroe stopped it and poured hot water in her mug. “I was ROTC—” the man suddenly stated.

Her eyes cut over to the man, and the question popped out of her mouth. “Still at college?” He was perhaps a decade younger than Rick, around her age.

Monroe let out a laugh. “Yeah—” he replied with a shrug. “I was a bit of a trouble-maker. I was first studying Architecture like Dad at Georgetown University, then switched to Business School, but Mother wanted me to take ROTC program too.”

By wanting, Amanda guessed he meant forcing it on him. Aiden Monroe looked like he’d been suffering from Peter Pan syndrome, still at college in his late twenties. Amanda didn’t say anything, just took a sip from her tea. Even the notion of having tea with a guy was kind of bizarre. She couldn’t believe it was happening, but the hot burning taste over her tongue was unmistakably real.

The man studied her carefully once more before he stated, “I run one of the supply teams. Perhaps Mother will put you on our team.” He laughed. “God knows we need a lady’s touch among us.”

Amanda gave him a look but didn’t correct that by ranks she really couldn’t be placed under his leadership as she had been a fully badged police officer for almost a decade now.

“Might be—” she uttered disinterestedly. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be on a supply team. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to be.

“Good Lord, you look very different in daylight than last night—” he bellowed all of sudden, looking at her closely again. “Couldn’t really recognize you. There was a baby with you, right?”

Her back straightened. Amanda took another sip from the tea. “Yes.”

“I heard it’s the sheriff’s—” Aiden Monroe continued.

“Her name is Judith.”

“Pretty name—” he remarked offhandedly. “Have you been with them since the beginning?”

“Aiden—” A gentle woman's voice called out behind their back. “The last time I checked, I was the one who was making the interviews.”

Amanda twisted aside and saw Deanna Monroe in classic pants and a tweed jacket standing at the kitchen door with a smile plastered on her face. “Just making small talk, Mother.”

“Uh huh—” the old woman breathed, and her eyes turned to Amanda. “And you must be—”

“Officer Amanda Shepherd—” Amanda introduced herself again.

“Believe me I was just trying to decide if I might call the sergeant or you next—” the leader of the town remarked with a small, kind smile. “You saved me from trouble.” She motioned with her head. “Well then, let’s start. Come.”

Amanda put the mug down on the counter and stood up. “Thanks for the tea,” she told Monroe.

“Anytime.” Amanda could swear there was a flirtatious edge to the smile he gave her with the reply. She wrote it off, but before she was out of the room, he called out to her.

“Hey, wanna me to fix you something…harder later?” Monroe asked, and the smile he gave her this time was definitely flirting. “Mother still has a good stash.”

Amanda stared at the man like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh—we shouldn’t drink,” she said at last.

Rick wouldn’t like it.

And Rick wouldn’t like her drinking with another guy, would he?

The offer was almost tempting, especially after their last episode, but she forced it out of her mind. She trotted after Deanna and saw another young woman inside the room, waiting. She thought it must be the psychologist Aaron had mentioned. Rick hadn’t said anything about it, but then again, they hadn’t talked much.

“This is Denise. She’s our psychologist,” Deanna confirmed what Amanda thought and pointed at the camera behind the couch. “Do you mind if we film it?” she asked.

Amanda narrowed her eyes. So they also filmed the interviews? Watched them afterward, analyzing and measuring their reactions and answers - them. She felt like she was getting interviewed by Internal Affairs before they started their dissection.

Her time after she’d killed the drug dealer hadn’t been easy. IA had tried to corner her with questions, trying to dig out if she had liaisons with the drug traffickers, why she was at that dark alley alone, what she was doing there; questions Amanda couldn’t fully answer to their satisfaction.

It’d taken Dawn pressing Captain Hanson to get them back off her case, and Amanda had always hated interviews since her childhood. Forcefully, Amanda pressed down the memories trying to resurface. It was the last thing she needed to remember now.

She flicked a look at the camera and wondered how she looked. Quite like shit, she was certain. She had a man that had made a pass on her, but she wasn’t actually sure if it was genuine, or Monroe was just…testing waters, too. She hadn’t missed how the man brought the topic to Rick and Judith.

Aaron must’ve made a few comments about them. She’d stepped into this town in the middle of the night with Judith sleeping in her arms. They still didn’t act like a real couple, especially in public, but Rick and she weren’t exactly out of each other’s hair, either, so to speak. Maggie had even confessed that they’d taken bets in the prison when they would do it.

The notion, though, made her even more rattled. These people knowing them, talking about them, just like Aiden Monroe had tried. Would Rick be bothered by it? He’d said he had nothing to hide when Abraham and his people joined them, even took her hand walking into the cabin, but Rick was a very, very private person.

And so was she.

Besides, she had a good guess how their…relationship would be read from outside; Rick fucking his subordinate as a stress-relief, and Amanda fucking her way through the ranks, so to speak. God. She so didn’t need to deal with this.

She sat on the large armchair in front of the couch, and moved her eyes around the room, forcing her mind away from her last thought. Her attention piqued with the massive library. She wondered if she could borrow some books. She liked mystery novels. She’d seen Rick reading a couple of times in the prison in his spare time, but she had no idea what kind of books he preferred. Before she could stop herself, the thought brought up another realization, too. She had no idea what Rick enjoyed doing to pass time, as scary as it was having spare time now in their lives.

They’d kept themselves so far apart from each other in the prison, carefully arranging themselves not to spend time together, that even mundane daily life things were a mystery for her. The only daily common thing they’d shared was their morning patrols. She didn’t even know if he liked sugar in his coffee or preferred tea over coffee.

Her moment of another reality strike soured her mood even further as Deanna Monroe looked at her with that smile. “So, Amanda Shepherd—” the woman started. “Are you from the Atlanta Police Department?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Rank?”

Amanda answered quickly, leaving off the farce of her unofficial promotion. “Patrol officer.”

Deanna nodded. “I see—” She paused then the old woman gave her a searching look. “So, you weren’t with them from the beginning.”

Amanda sensed an alarm bell alert her with the statement, especially with the way the woman had phrased it. She shook her head. She didn’t have any reason to lie.

“No. I was in Atlanta until—” She quickly made a math how long exactly had passed since she met Rick in the woods. Something she still couldn’t keep track of. She recalled in a flash the unhesitant, certain answer Rick had given to her when she’d asked him how long she’d been in the prison before the first time they had to have one of their…talks, but suppressed the moment, focusing on doing the math instead. “Around four months ago, give or take—” she said after a brief pause.

“You’re quite a new member of the team then,” Deanna said, her look still searching.

She let out a sound. “Time is relative.”

Deanna laughed. “That’s also correct—” she remarked. “How did you end up with them?”

“It’s a long story.”

Deanna waved a hand at the camera. “I’ve got spare tapes.”

“I got lost in the woods one day on a supply run with my colleagues, somewhere around where they were set up in their compound. I met Rick in the woods. I was a bit wounded, so he brought me in.”

There was that expression on the woman’s face now as if she was listening to a love story! Amanda felt a blush rising to her cheeks and tried to calm down her feelings. “Then you stayed with them?” she probed further.

“Eventually.”

Deanna’s clear blue eyes found hers. “You seem very close—”

Amanda read all the hidden meanings in it. She looked away. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

“Aaron said you wanted to come,” Deanna stated after a brief pause.

Amanda remembered her yelling in the barn. She knew she shouldn’t have done it. She knew. “Yeah—” she answered, putting a deliberate disinterest in her voice. “We need a place.”

“Rick doesn’t look like he’s keen on the idea—” the old woman commented further. “He doesn’t trust us.”

“Rick isn’t a very trusting person,” she forced herself to reply absently, twisting her head away from the woman again towards the window. This was just what she’d been expecting; talks ending up coming to Rick, Rick, Rick…

“He told me today I shouldn’t let you in,” Deanna remarked. “Should keep our gates close.”

“Well, that’s the thing with Rick—” Amanda sighed deeply, turning back to the woman. “You’ll see.”

“See what?”

“Most of the time, Rick is right even when he’s wrong.” She paused. “I know it’s very annoying. I’m still trying to make my peace with it, too,” she confessed after a beat.

“Amanda—” Deanna called out to her, moving an inch over the couch. “Are you together with him?” she asked openly. “Aaron wasn’t sure of it.”

This time she turned her attention on the woman fully, staring coldly. “It’s none of your business.”

“Funny it’s the same thing Rick said when Denise asked him if there’s a relationship he wants to specify for his file.”

“His file?” Amanda asked, ignoring the other part.

“Yes, we file a dossier for each candidate for basic information,” the old woman gestured at the psychologist whom Amanda had been ignoring through the whole interview. After each session with Internal Affairs, she was also sent to the force’s psychiatrist until she was cleared off for active duty again. Those sessions—well, they were even worse than the IA interviews. There were notes in front of the woman, and Amanda hated to think what those would be about.

“Birth date, place of birth, residency before the turn, your blood type, relatives,” Deanna continued. “You see, you say it isn’t our business, but it actually is. I was thinking of making you his partner as you both served for justice and order. But I need to be sure you’ll play along nicely if I did.”

With the cat out of the bag, Amanda knew she was cornered. “We have a...thing,” she said, leaving it as vague as possible, but admitted, “We can’t be partners. We have uh-stuff to work out,” she went on, and holding back a sigh, spilled the beans. “It happened when we were out. Better that you keep us apart work-wise.”

They couldn’t take the risk. She didn’t want to fuck up, endanger anyone just because Rick and she couldn’t play along nicely, as Deanna had phrased it.

The old woman nodded as if she came to the same conclusion. “Sounds astute.” She cleared her throat and leaned back in her seat again. “So what would we do with you?” she asked, her lips pulling out with a small, kind smile again. “What were you doing before?”

Amanda shrugged. “The usual: prowl the perimeters, scavenge on the hunts, kill rotters.” She paused. “Bear this world. Live by my code.”

“Your code?”

“Yeah. Kill the dead, don’t hurt the living unless they try to hurt us or others.”

Deanna nodded slowly. “It’s a damn good code.”

“It is.”

“I guess then I have to figure out a way for you to live by your code and do some work,” Deanna commented further with her smile. “My husband and I—we have so many plans for this place. We both want a community where children can grow up in a safe environment. Without hunger. Without fear. Without death.”

Amanda inhaled slowly, somehow the words vibrating in her. Without hunger. Without fear. Without death. Like Rick, that was all she wanted for her…people. For Beth, for Judith, for Carl…for all of them. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “That’s what we want, too.”

“I know.” The older woman gave her a look. “I think you can help us achieve those dreams, Officer Shepherd.”

Amanda swallowed. “In the prison—the place we used to have before we lost it, I was trying to teach people how to survive. Protect themselves. I can still do it, I guess. Rick can help, too, if anyone wants to learn. And your son mentioned he wouldn’t mind a…lady among them. I can go on runs, take watches.” She shook her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

She just didn’t. Her eyes turned to the old woman once more. Deanna was looking at her in careful consideration. “We can talk about it later in detail,” she said after a while. “I fear we must learn a few things first, yes.”

Amanda shrugged before she answered in the same way she’d done to Rick months ago. “Luck runs out.”

A laughter came out from Deanna. “I’m a good poker player. I don’t trust luck.”

Amanda laughed back lowly. “Me neither. It’s a fickle thing.”

“We still need you to answer the basic questions.”

 “I’m thirty years old, born in August,” she answered without a fuss. “Blood type is B positive. I’m not related to anyone by blood, but I’m the guardian of a teenage girl. Name is Beth Greene. In fact, you can even say we’re blood-related,” she corrected. “It’s her blood that I have in my veins. She supplied me with her blood when I was shot.”

After she finished, Deanna did something Amanda couldn’t have guessed. The woman reached out and turned off the camera. “I can listen if you want to share.”

Amanda gave the woman another look. “Maybe another time. My people are waiting. The earlier we’re done with these interviews, the better.” She paused, her expression getting cross as she remembered. “There’re still hay and dung in my hair.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

She shrugged again. “It appears you couldn’t wait to meet us,” she clipped snidely, standing up, but Deanna stopped her before she could leave.

“Aaron mentioned something about a cure,” the woman remarked. “Rick said it’s a discussion for another time. What’s it?”

Briefly, halting at the threshold of the living room, Amanda wondered if she’d been really played; that the woman was really going to use her as a bridge between herself and Rick.

The notion made her frown. “What did you hear?” she asked briskly, but still gave her the details.

“Abraham has a scientist with him. He thinks he might devise a cure, at least to stop the infection. He was trying to get Eugene to D.C when we met. We wanted to check around. We were talking about going to Arlington, to check the Pentagon. Abraham will certainly want to do that and will ask your participation,” she concluded. “For further information, you have to talk to him.”

“And you. What do you think about it?” Deanna asked. “Do you still want to go?”

“I don’t know—” She gave the woman a closed lip smile before she turned around. “It’s a discussion for another time.”

As she walked away, Amanda heard the woman laugh behind her back.

# # #

By the time, Amanda came back, the porch was deserted. She pushed open the screen door, but before she walked inside, she stopped at the threshold. Beside the door, over by the coat stand, there were shoes and boots. Even Rick’s sturdy cowboy boots.

The scene almost made her gag as a tight lump sat in her throat. She couldn’t even remember the last time she took her boots off to relax. In the prison and Grady, she took them off before she went to bed, but in the woods, even that wasn’t an option easily.

Amanda bent down and took off her combat boots, carefully tucking her boot knife inside one of them before she walked in the corridor only in her socks. They all were still on the first floor, scattered in the living room.

No one had made a move to go upstairs. Hell, like her, no one even made a move for the bathroom, it seemed, judging by the look of them, but they were all without their boots.

 We both want a community where children can grow up in a safe environment. Without hunger. Without fear. Without death—

Her eyes scanned the room. Rick was sitting on the floor on the rugs with Judith, his back rested against the couch. He was playing with the baby girl as Glenn sat a few feet away from them with Carol, Joan, and Daryl. Noah was still with the boys, as Abraham’s clan—

She quickly searched the room—a panic finding her—Beth?

Where was Beth?

She hurried to Rick. “Rick!” She breathed out, spinning around the room, still searching... “Where’s Beth?”

Reaching up to her, Rick gently touched her hand. “Easy. She left with Carl to look around.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You let them?”

“Beatrice’s sister came when you were at Deanna's. There was another boy, too. Ron or something. They went together.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Did Beatrice come, too?” she snapped. “Bat her eyes at you?”

His expression soured. “No. She didn’t come. And you need to cool off.”

She sent him another glare. “I’m going to look for them.”

“Amanda—” Rick said slowly, his voice holding back a sigh. “She just bit your head off. Give her a bit of room to breathe.”

“Rick, if I was looking for advice about dealing with acting out teenagers, you would be the last person I’d ask for his opinion,” she hit rather below the belt. Why, she had no idea, either.

His face stiffening even more, Rick turned to Judith, not dignifying her spiteful comment with an answer. Amanda really felt like a bitch. Her eyes turned to the door.

The truth was that Rick would’ve never let them go if he wasn’t sort of okay with it. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. She could—she could—

Goddammit!

She spun on her heel and rushed to the door. She just needed to see it with her own eyes. Then she—she would come back. Just see Beth. Then she would apologize, too.

She leaned and took her boot in front of the screen door, and started tucking in her right foot, holding her boot knife as the door suddenly opened, and a woman appeared.

Drawing up, Amanda looked at the newcomer.

“Hi. I’m Jessie—” the woman introduced, her voice shaking as she held up a wooden basket in her hands. Alexandrians seemed to be really generous people, coming bearing gifts but then Amanda remembered what Aiden Monroe had said about food.

“Deanna asked me to deliver this,” the woman confirmed, too, handing the basket to Amanda, her eyes freezing on her knife for a second. Amanda saw the woman’s hands also shook slightly like her voice. “I don’t work for the pantry,” she continued, “but Olivia is on sick leave today.”

Amanda gave a half nod, not knowing who Olivia was, or why the woman felt the need to explain. “Thank you,” she murmured, taking the basket. Looking at her, Amanda picked up the woman’s red eyes, too, as if she’d been crying all night.

“Are you okay?” her cop reflex made her question.

Jessie brushed it off. “Yeah. I’m okay. Deanna said you’ve got kids,” she went on, her voice getting cooler. “That’s why I came really—” The woman even gave her a tight smile this time. “They just passed me the delivery. I teach at the school in the community center,” she elaborated. “How old are the children?”

“Mika is ten years old,” Amanda answered, still baffled the sudden concept of…school. “Beth is seventeen, Carl is fifteen.”

The woman nodded. “Mika can be in my class. Beth and Carl will be in Eric’s,” she supplied in. “He usually takes the teenagers. I’ll send my son to gather them up tomorrow morning.” She opened her mouth, but the woman added before she could make a sound. “Deanna waits for Sergeant Ford.”

With that, she turned and left. Amanda narrowed her eyes as the woman walked rigidly. The next second, she bowed her head and looked at the food basket, her right foot still tucked in the boot. She sighed deeply, pushed it off, and walked towards the kitchen.

She set the basket on the island’s countertop and headed back into the living room. She walked to Abraham and informed him he was summoned. Her eyes turned to Rick. Her moment interrupted and passed, Amanda sat down beside them as Judith half crawled, half tumbled over Rick’s leg to the other side.

“Someone brought food,” she said to start a conversation. Rick nodded tersely, not looking at her. “Rick—” she started, but heard the screen door closing softly again, and a few seconds later, Carl and Beth appeared at the living room’s entrance.

Beth walked to the couch and threw herself on it. “They have a swimming pool—” she uttered as they turned to look at her. “They really have a fucking swimming pool!”

“Beth!” Amanda cried out hearing the swear word, but Beth didn’t even cast her a glance. She’d heard the teenager utter the f-word before a few times when she was without company, but with all of them being present—

No! 

It was wrong!

Beth sprung up to her feet. “I’m taking a shower.”

Amanda sighed, as she reached to Judith over Rick’s leg while Beth left the room. Rick turned to Carl. “Carl, someone brought food,” he told Carl. “Go check it out.”

Carl nodded, standing up and went to the kitchen. “Rick—” Amanda called out to him again. “I—I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He made a sound, drawing his legs up to his chest and placed the baby girl on them. He bounced Judith on his knees, not giving her further attention as Judith cried out happy happily each time Rick bounced her.

“You’re gonna make her puke—” Amanda warned.

He still didn’t pay her any attention. “I told Deanna we’re together—” she blurted out. His swinging ceasing, Rick stilled as Judith softly made baby noises in protest. His neck craned towards her. “She wanted to pair us as partners,” she explained. “I told her it wasn’t a good idea because we have a thing.”

Jerking his head tersely in a nod, he returned to Judith. Amanda swallowed. “It’s okay, right? You’re okay with it?”

That made him react. He snapped his head toward her again, completely stilling, his eyes lit. “I’m not going to answer that, Amanda, because I’m tired of fighting with you.”

Her temper firing too, she shot him a look. “Well, she told me she asked you, too, and you told her it was none of her business.”

“Because it is—” Rick said pointedly. “It’s none of her business. I’m not hiding it.”

“Well—”

“No—” he cut her off. “Not now, Amanda. Later tonight, we talk.”

She bowed her head, nodding. “Okay.”

“How did it go?” Rick asked after a while as he settled Judith down, his voice losing its edge.

“Good…I think.”

“Has she appointed you a job?” he asked, then turned to her again before he quickly added, “You don’t have to accept anything you don’t want to, Amanda.”

She swallowed. “No. She was…kind. She wanted to partner us first, but well, after I told her it isn’t a good idea, she let it go. She asked me what I was doing before. Told her the usual stuff.” Rick gave her a questioning look. “You know… I prowl, scavenge, kill rotters - stuff.”

“You don’t have to do that either,” he told her slowly, his eyes on hers. He left the rest of his words unsaid.

Her head turning, she almost slid towards him and nestled herself in his arms like Judith was doing, laying across his chest. Her eyes prickled, and something in her tugged. She bowed her head. “Amanda—” Rick softly called to her.

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore,” she cut him off in a whisper, moving an inch closer to him. She raised her eyes up to look at him.

His gaze holding hers, Rick heaved a deep sigh tiredly. “Amanda.”

“I’m sorry—” she repeated.

Rick sighed again. Carl came from the kitchen and took Judith and went back again. Taking the opportunity, Amanda scooted to him, almost resting her head on his shoulder. They stayed like that for a little while without talking before Amanda broke the silence.

“Uh—has Beatrice come, too?” she asked, with a voice she hoped was sounding innocent enough.

Rick shook his head, silently laughing. “No. She hasn’t come.”

She paused for a second. “I think that tiramisu was for you.”

“No. It wasn’t.”

Her hand touched at his beard. “Either way, you should cut off this ugly thing. I can’t even see your face now.”

A small smile curved up his lips. “Missed it?”

She nodded. “Yeah—” she said, smiling back. “You have a pretty face.”

“I thought I’m supposed to be handsome.”

“Nope. You’re pretty. I like pretty.” Her smile growing, the words left her. “I had a drink. Aiden Monroe prepared me tea while I was waiting for Deanna,” she remarked as Rick’s loosened expression stiffened. “He said he could offer me something harder, too.”

He tilted his chin to look down at her. “Hmm. What did you say?”

She didn’t know if he was just playing along, or he was really jealous, but she didn’t care. It just felt good that they were talking—flirting with each other again. “I said we shouldn’t drink.”

“Good.” He paused a beat. “But incomplete.”

She stared back at him. “Is it?”

He nodded. “Uh huh. Say my…boyfriend doesn’t want me to drink with other guys the next time.”

She couldn’t help it. A giggle escaped from her before she covered her mouth at the side of his shoulder.

As his lips brushed over the top of her head, Amanda sensed his smile before he kissed her hair.

# # #

By the time the interviews finished, it was evening.

Closing the shades, they turn on the lamps in the corners. A gentle warm light gave the interiors an almost romantic atmosphere. Deanna came by before dinner, seeing how they were faring. When the woman saw them still huddled together in the living room, she didn’t say anything, but Rick read her gaze still the same.

When would you trust us, Rick?

Well, Rick was already half convinced to trust her to be here, accepting the food, but going upstairs and sleeping in a real bed? Somehow, he just couldn’t do it.

How they would share the bedrooms was also a discussion Rick didn’t want to have as of the moment. At least not before he cleared up some things with Amanda.

But they needed some privacy. Their moment after her freaking out for Beth had made it perfectly clear. In that moment, they could’ve kissed and made out, perhaps even had sex again—finally. Instead, she just scooted over closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder after Carl left the room for the kitchen with Judith.

They damn well needed some privacy, but on the other hand, Rick still wanted to see all of his family where he could gather them quickly enough in case of an attack. The wall outside would prevent such a drastic attack but—

Rick wondered if he was fretting as much as Amanda now.

They needed to settle down. Have a talk. Spread out in the houses. Start living again. If this thing wasn’t going to work—

No. It was going to work.

He reminded himself about the barn and the promise he’d made to himself.

His children—his family wasn’t going to live through that ever again.

Rick was going to make sure of that.

One way or another.

# # #

When everyone had retreated into their secluded areas in the living room, Amanda knew it was high time to have their talk, the talk they’d been postponing quite a while. There was only Daryl and Glenn outside now, taking watches as Rick was outside on the porch, staring at the darkened town like how he’d passed last night.

Silently, Amanda stepped out and went to his side. He still must’ve heard her though, the way the screen door softly creaked in the quietness, but he didn’t react. She wondered if he was ever going to sleep tonight. Perhaps before dawn they would slip into the den again and try to catch a wink of sleep before another day began.

Rick suddenly caught her hand and tightened his fingers. “Come on—” He tugged at her, his voice almost a whisper. “Let’s make a patrol.”

“Patrol?” she whispered back.

“Yeah. Check out the perimeters.”

She remembered the morning they’d talked about the thing between them first after they made a morning patrol, looking at the rotters behind the fences, telling each other they didn’t want any complications in their lives.

She wondered what they would say now… There were no walkers, too, no snarls, no growls in the background. Everything was quiet.

They left the porch, her hand still tucked in his and started touring the town. This walking hand in hand wasn’t the proper way to make a patrol, but Amanda didn’t care at the moment. Not knowing what else to do, she just rolled along with Rick.

But the town really looked beautiful in its dark, idyllic stillness, almost peaceful. The stars were shining brightly without city lights, like in the woods, moon high in the sky. It wasn’t only quiet, but also beautiful. For a moment, she thought of staying out to watch the sunrise, climbing up the slope, looking east—

Amanda deeply breathed, remembering Deanna’s words, understanding how truly—how utterly she wanted them to be true.

“Deanna said—” Amanda broke the silence with a small voice as they walked along the wall. “She and her husband want a community where children can grow up in a safe environment,” she said. “I think it’s true. I think I believe her.”

Rick let out a subsided sigh before he confessed; “It’s not her intentions that worry me, Amanda,” he replied. “But her capacity.” He paused for a second. “Or her will.”

“She knows that, too—” Amanda countered. “That’s why she wanted us.”

Rick nodded, then stopped and turned to her. “I hope it’s gonna be enough—” he said. “Because we’re not losing this place. This’s gonna work. One way or another.”

She closed her eyes momentarily, breathing out. His words were cryptic, but Amanda didn’t need any elaboration. “I know.”

He nodded again as his eyes moved around and spotted the tree in the yard of a structure that might be the maintenance building of Alexandria. The area was more secluded than the rest of the backyard, the old stone wall of the town lined with trees circling the building like an arc just under the massive steel wall’s shadow.

They headed toward the building silently, something twisting in her stomach. Amanda tried to quell it down. They needed to talk. It was a long time coming, even though she still had no idea what she was going to say exactly—

She just knew they had to.

Just today she’d confessed to a stranger that they had a thing. Admitted that she was sleeping with him. Rick had even called himself her boyfriend. Even though the words were a joke, Amanda knew he meant what he said.

I told you already. His words in the barn before this whole Alexandria business started echoed in the back of her mind, what he told her before they left Noah’s home—Amanda silenced them.

She couldn’t think of it yet. She had to take it slow. She couldn’t jump into another turmoil like they’d done in the woods. She was barely keeping up. They had to give each other time. She wanted to do this. She so wanted to do this, but it felt like they were riding on a roller coaster. Most of the time, it was how it felt being with him.

In the building’s yard, they settled down against a tree.

Raising her head to look at the branches scarcely decorated with dry leaves above them, Amanda remembered all the times they passed like this. The times she slept in his arms, cried, sometimes just lay down, his hands stroking her hair or massaging her strained muscles.

She wanted that. She wanted those moments, more than food, more than water, more than anything in this world.

Rick turned to her after they settled further over the roots. “Amanda, why are you avoiding me?” he asked directly, no hesitation in his voice anymore as he looked her in the eye.

“I know the last weeks were hard for you,” he went on. “But we can’t go on like this.” He paused, and those blue eyes that usually flashed with anger or glinted keenly with a sharp edge, had that sadness, that tiredness she remembered so well. “I—I almost fear touching you now.”

The words pierced through her chest. There was a stark hurt in his tone, a bleak dismay. Knowing that she was the source of it hurt her as well. “I’m sorry, Rick—” She made a move over to him, but he stopped her.

“No—” he refused her. “No. This is not something you can slip around with your elusive maneuvers. We need to talk.”

She blinked. “Rick—” She wasn’t trying to… She wasn’t trying to distract him—

She wasn’t, right? She swallowed. “I want to do this, Rick.” She told him the only thing she knew for sure.

“Baby, I know. I know you want to do this. But whenever you’re stressed over something, you start questioning us.”

“No, I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did,” Rick cut her off, objecting. “You knew, but you still did. You knew what I meant to Deanna when I said it was none of her business, but you still came at me.”

She shook her head. “It’s too much, Rick.” It’d been too much for a long time. She made a sound. She wanted him to understand her, not look at her with those hurt eyes.

“I feel like I’m riding on a roller coaster with no seat belts, drunk and high at the same time,” she continued, telling him at least what she felt, how she felt, her voice lowering even further. “I need to slow down. I’ve never done this before,” she confessed, bowing her head. “I—I’ve never even really dated anyone.”

Rick ran a hand over his face, exhaling deeply, his fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose strongly. “Uh, I’ve figured out that much,” he muttered. “Okay—” He roughed out with another deep breath, raising his head. “We do it then. We date.”

Amanda blinked a few times. “We what?”

“We date,” he repeated firmly. “Do stuff. Spend time together, get to know each other, fool around—you know—”

“Rick—Rick…” She murmured his name, shaking her head. “We can’t. I mean—we—”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have time—”

“In the woods, perhaps—” Rick admitted. “But here in Alexandria?” He shrugged, his eyes wandering around to make his point. “We’ve been here a day, and nothing bad happened so far. Perhaps this is really it, Amanda.”

His gaze turned to her, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Remember the amenities,” he rasped out. “Pools, Jacuzzis, cinemas. I can even take you out for a movie.”

She laughed. “This is ridiculous.”

Coiling his arm around her waist, Rick towed her to his chest. “A dinner first, then a movie,” he replied. He nestled her over himself further, his eyes flicking downward to find hers. “I distinctly remember telling you I’m gonna cook you dinner.”

“Now it’s turned into a horror story.” She giggled lowly as his bushy beard chaffed against her jawline.

“Now, officer, play nice—” he mockingly warned. “I told you I’m a good cook.” His lips found behind her earlobe. She shivered at the contact.

“Rick—” she breathed out, getting stiff again.

“Relax—” He softly whispered over her neck. “We’re just fooling around. We’re gonna take it slow,” he assured her, his voice still low, gentle, but firm. “We’re gonna wait as long as you need.”

She half nodded. “I don’t want to screw this up—” she repeated in a slurred breath as his lips moved over the side of her neck that her half tugged up hair left bare.

“We won’t—” Rick assured her as his hand released her hair tie, making her hair fall over her shoulders.

His fingers threaded through her locks slowly as her breathing turned into low purrs with his strokes. She felt herself melting, her strained muscles relaxing as if his admission to wait unlocked something in her.

“Rick—” she moaned, her hands moving up, and she was pulling him closer. She wanted him to be close to him.

“Rick—” she muttered again as he kissed her pulse, his hand sliding down over her leather jacket, slipping inside through the unzipped slit. When it found its way up under her shirt, Amanda pulled him even closer.

His hand cupped the small swell of her left breast just as their lips found each other. His other arm adjusted her across his lap to find the best angle for himself as he dipped his head to deepen the kiss.

Heat simmered in her more with each stroke his hand made over her breasts, and it felt marvelous having his callous palm, fingers rubbing over her sensitive skin, over her perked nipples. How she missed this feeling, his hands over her skin.

Rick continued with his slow, gentle ministrations while his lips moved over to her neck, her jawline, each spot he damn knew well how to make her shiver before finding her lips again.

His kiss was as slow as his caresses, and Amanda didn’t know how long it passed, like always time was so relative with him, but they pulled apart an inch when breathing became a problem again. He gently rested his forehead on the edge of hers as she panted heavily.

“Ya good?” Rick whispered, his rasping voice rough with lust, his eyes glinting as he stared at her. Amanda nodded silently. She couldn’t make a sound. “Do—d-do you want me to finish you?” he asked a second later. “We can do it. Just it. I promise.”

Her head turning, cobwebs of desire clouding her senses, the gentle feel of his hand still over her skin, imagining them over between her legs, Amanda wanted to say yes.

They were going to date. Dating people do that, right? Making out. Getting to know each other better…figuring out each other. First base, second base, third base before they truly did the deed. They could do it. She wanted it. God, she so wanted it. Wanted a release. Of everything. Have that moment again with him.

She wanted it. She just didn’t trust herself with it.

She drew another inch away, breaking their contact, looking away.

“Hey—” Rick called out, turning her to him, touching her chin as his hand came up from under her shirt. “I told you we’re gonna wait. Do you trust me?”

Once more the answer blossomed in her easily. Looking back at him, Amanda nodded. In answer, Rick smiled at her warmly.

Her eyes rose, she checked their surroundings. “But it’s safe?” she asked, surveying the secluded area under the stone wall. “I really don’t want to get caught on our first try again.”

Rick lowly chuckled out. “Well, you’re gonna keep your clothes on this time—”

Her gaze turned to him. Although his lips still holding that faint smirking smile, he looked—well, he looked like how a man who was denied more than three weeks looked like. There was that glint in his eyes, sharp like a cut gemstone. His hair was tousled as her fingers turned his locks further into a mess, his long scruffy beard looking even wilder.

Amanda cleared her throat. “Um—you—uh…you’ll be okay with it?” Her eyes flicked down where she could see his hardness even through the sturdy denim cloth. “I mean--it’s—”

“I’ll be okay—” he interrupted her. “Don’t worry about me.”

“But—”

“Hey, we’re supposed to fool around here—” he chided mocking, shaking his head. “Not having a discussion. I’ll be okay,” he repeated, as his lips found her jawline again. “I just want to touch you.”

I fear even touching you now… Amanda trembled, but she didn’t know it was because of the words or because of his lips or because his hand crawled down over her belt, and started unbuckling her…

She shivered a few seconds later when his hand slithered under her panties. A part of her felt ashamed how wet she was, soaking, but when callous fingers started stroking her folds like she’d just imagined, Amanda only closed her eyes wrapping her arms over his neck and nestling her head over the crook of his shoulder.

It was even better than she remembered. That one time, their first time when she’d almost fucked it up, having an episode. The memories from that time threatened to spill over her barriers, but Amanda pushed them away, instead concentrating on the feeling. On his fingers, the way he stroked her—the way it made her feel…

She started squirming with soft moans when Rick plunged two fingers inside her depths at the same time. They were kissing open mouthed all the while his fingers slid, stroked, rubbed in a rhythm he orchestrated as his other hand slipping back under her shirt did the same, giving a special attention to her nipples…

Amanda knew she was going to have hickeys again for he’d started sucking her neck, his bushy beard chaffing her jawline, but she couldn’t bother herself. She just let it, holding on to him, writhing pressed on him, her arms coiled around his neck until he brought her to the peak.

She didn’t know how long it took her to tumble down over the line, but when it happened, she felt it coursing through her, her body trembling with it.

Slumping in his arms, she panted heavily. Her arms were still loosely coiled around his neck as gentle shivers passed over her. It wasn’t a powerful orgasm. It hadn’t shattered her down to her core, vibrating in her insides down to her last atom like their last time, making her see the light, but it was…nice. She felt settled in a way that felt…nice.

Rick drew her up and tugged up her pants as she half sat, half draped lazily on his lap. She didn’t want to move. She wanted to…enjoy the moment.

“Ya ‘kay?” Rick asked her, tilting his chin to look at her.

Amanda drowsily looped a nod, draping herself over him further. His hardness was poking at her, but somehow it didn’t worry her. “It was good?” Rick asked further in a rasped whisper.

If it was anyone else the question would’ve made her roll her eyes, but Amanda only made another half bobbing head movement. “Yeah…” she mouthed throatily as she tightened her arms a bit. “Thank you.”

She didn’t know what she was exactly thanking him for, but the words just left her mouth. Overall, this wasn’t exactly how she thought this talk would go. All things considered, it didn’t go so bad, she supposed.

“My pleasure—” Rick chuckled softly in her ear, making her remember how it felt having him inside her as he did that before, his laughter resonating deep inside her, down to her core, sending jolts of hot pleasure down to her toes.

She ached to have it again—to have him chuckle like this when he was inside her, but she didn’t want to screw up, like she always did. She just wanted to enjoy the moment, them like this…

And she wanted him to enjoy it as much as much she did. She raised her eyes. “Was it?” she asked. “Something tells me otherwise.” She darted her eyes at his crotch.

Rick shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, unwinding her arms from his neck. Amanda started unbuckling his duty belt. He stopped her. “No. Amanda, you don’t have to do it.”

“I know. But we’re fooling around—” she whispered. “Let’s take care of you, too.” She paused, her eyes finding his. “Rick—I—I want it.”

They shared a look, his clear blue eyes darkening, then he jerked his head in small nod.

Amanda drew up in his arms and slid herself over his lap as she unzipped his jeans. Rick raised his hips a bit over the ground an inch. Amanda stared at him as her hand halted over his zipper. “What’re you doing?”

He pulled out a black cloth from his back pocket and tucked it inside the front one. Amanda giggled silently, understanding his…preparation. “Already almost came inside my pants once. Not gonna happen again.”

“Rick Grimes,” she laughed silkily, bending her head to flick her tongue over his Adam’s apple. “Always prepared.”

Rick drew in a sharp breath as Amanda slipped her hand inside his underwear and held him. His eyes immediately closed when she tightened her grip. He tossed his head backward against the tree, his adam's apple moving in his throat as he swallowed with a silent grunt.

He looked so damn sexy, for a moment Amanda almost kicked off her pants and took him inside her. But she wanted to give him a release like he’d done to her, too. Make him enjoy himself without any complications.

Just a couple making out, exploring each other, discovering each other, not that crazy intensity, not riding on a damn roller coaster. Just two people getting to know each other better.

God, he looked so good. Looking at him when they had sex always felt like too much, but not like this. Not when she was merely giving him pleasure. She recalled how he’d ordered her when she held him once before briefly. Harder.

She curled her fingers tighter and gave him a hard pull. The hiss he let out made something in her throb in response, and Amanda knew she’d just…discovered one of his kinks. The thought brought her an odd pleasure.

Just to be sure, and because she damn liked it, she adjusted her grip and gave him another tug, her back of her knuckles gently brushing over his balls. This time a full groan escaped from him as Amanda smiled.

Her hand started stroking his length in a circular motion as she studied each expression he made, listening to each groan he let escape, her lips trailing the side of his cheeks, his bearded jaw as her other hand vanished into his long curls.

His eyes cracked open and his gaze, glazed like frosted glass, found her. But there was still no crazy intensity in it. “Enjoying yourself?” she asked in a hoarse whisper like in the bathroom, nibbling at his bottom lip as her hand picked up pace.

“Uh—” he rasped over her lips— “Very—” he hissed out. “Very...”

“Rick—”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m liking this dating thing.”

He chuckled with a low rasp as his hand moved up to the nape of her neck. “Wait until I cook you dinner,” he muttered, his fingers tangling through her hair before he pulled her close for a kiss.

# # #

When they were both settled down, Amanda was again wilted against him, almost limp in his arms, her face half nesting on his shoulder. Rick was still heaving deeply, his body giving small jerks occasionally. This dating thing, Rick was liking it, too, indeed.

Tilting his head, he checked on Amanda. She looked winded down, satiated, her lips half curved with a lazy smile. She looked so beautiful that Rick couldn’t take his eyes off her.

In this way, she really reminded him of a cat, her claws retracted. Most of the time, Amanda reminded him of a cat, her claws put out whenever she wanted to protect herself but calmed down when she realized she was secure and safe.

Rick wondered if he could find her a cat. Amanda would like that. He imagined her playing with a kitten together with Judy, both of them lazily lounging across her lap. He made circles across the nape of her neck with his fingertips that made her almost purr beside him.

She raised her hand and touched his beard across his jawline. “We should go—” she murmured. “They could start worry about us.”

Rick gave her a half nod, but made no move to stand up. Amanda didn’t either as her hand kept stroking his jaw through his beard gently. “We really should get rid of this bush,” she spoke lowly with that throaty voice. “Makes my skin chaffed. Can’t even kiss you properly.” The words almost sounded like a whine.

It made Rick smile. “Will do it in the morning—” he told her simply because how he could ever deny something when she talked to him with that tone, looking like this. “Wanna help me?”

She propped her chin on his shoulder line and smirked at him, raising her head. “I might—” she murmured before leaning further.

Rick captured her lips. It was a lazy kiss, just how they lolled under the tree, relaxing in an idle manner. They kissed playfully with airy, small kisses as she smiled against his lips.

Rick really didn’t want to leave, but Amanda had a point. They should get back to the house before the others sent a search party after them. Rick pulled up to his feet, gently snagging Amanda’s elbow to get her up, too.

His eyes roamed over her again. She looked…well, she really looked like she had had a good time. Her loose hair was even more unkempt now as Rick had tousled it further with his fingers. He was sure his hair was in the same condition, too, remembering the way she held his head, her own fingers tightening inside his locks to bring him closer toward herself wantonly.

The image stirred him again in his jeans as Rick wondered when they could get further into third base… He forced the thought away while they left the secluded spot and started heading back to the house.

They just had a good time tonight, had a bit of a talk. No fighting, no fucking each other senseless in the woods or on a supply run. A bit of downtime, just like they’d tried in the church before things had gone bad…having a smoke, kissing, making out. Tonight was even better. They had to have this. Return to a bit of normalcy whenever it was possible. Amanda needed it even more than him. Then the time would come too—the time he would finally take her to bed.

Right now, he just wanted to have this peaceful moment between them.

Leaving the main road, he made a detour, circling the town. Even if Amanda noticed it, she didn’t make a comment. They walked with an idle pace as if they were strolling in a park at night. She was pressed close at his side, her arm looped around his elbow loosely as Rick tucked his other hand in his pocket.

“Rick—” she called out in a low voice, craning her neck up to look at him. “You won’t cook me squirrels, right?”

The way she voiced the question, her eyes staring at him with that shy, coy look made Rick chuckle out softly again. “No. I think I can manage a bit better.” He thought for a few seconds. “Hmm, I saw a sauce from the supplies they brought today,” he remarked. “How about pasta?”

Her nose wrinkled a bit. “Uh. Sounds…common.”

“Ah—” He cleared his throat, understanding she was expecting a bit more…effort from him. “Hmm, lemme think. How about a casserole?” he asked the first thing that came to his mind that would need more effort.

That seemed to be the right thing to say because halting in her steps, Amanda gave him another look, her eyes glistening. “I like casserole,” she whispered. “Can you do it?”

Well, he’d never done it, actually. But for her—for her, he would always try. “I would try,” he whispered.

Shaking her head, she softly giggled, and Rick really liked the sound. “You’ve never cooked before, right, Rick?”

He paused for a second then admitted after a beat… “No.”

She shook her head again, still laughing with a sigh. As they restarted walking, she twisted half. “I can make you pancakes,” she remarked, slanting a look at him.

Rick felt a lump in his throat. She’d remembered it. His feet halting again, his gaze captured hers fully. His dream started playing in his mind as if a muted movie—

“You must be our new sheriff—” the voice coming from their left side broke the moment.

Their head whipped at the same time towards the interruption, and Rick saw a man—a man holding a whiskey glass in his hand and sitting on a swing chair on the porch that stood at their left side.

The glass’s bottom was licked by amber stain. Rick had an inkling that the contents were in the man’s belly. Even in the dark, Rick could see the flush over the man’s face.

The man raised his glass to them and greeted them mockingly. “Welcome to Alexandria, Sheriff.”

Rick frowned, his jaw setting as his shoulder squared. He pulled himself an inch away from Amanda and took a step forward. “And who you might be?”

Before the man could answer, the screen door was opened, and a blonde woman ushered out, looking nervous. She didn’t even spare a glance at them. “Pete—” she called out to the man instead with a low voice, almost imploring. “It’s getting late. Please, come inside.”

Rick surmised she was his wife as he saw matching rings on their hands. Amanda moved beside him, her eyes fixated on the woman. “Please.” The woman repeated again with the same tone.

The man stood up. “’kay, I’m comin’—” he slurred, staggering in his steps, and waved a hand at her. “You—just don’t start.”

Rick heard low quarreling voices from inside as soon as they disappeared behind the screen door. The outside door got closed too. Rick frowned further at the sounds. “He was drunk,” he stated the obvious.

“Yeah—” Amanda confirmed. “I know her,” she remarked a few seconds later. “She was the one who brought the supplies today. She was odd.”

Turning to her, Rick gave her a look. “How?”

Amanda shrugged. “I don’t know. Just felt…odd.”

Rick nodded, understanding her point. Just a cop hunch, just like Rick had felt from the man. He tugged at her, taking her hand back in his, and they started walking again.

It didn’t matter. If the man gave them trouble, Rick was going to deal with it.

This was it. This place was where they were going to settle down. Rick had become sure of it. It was going to have to work. He was going to make it work. One way or another. There was no other option.

Notes:

Okay, as I've finished the first day, Amanda and Rick *finally* starting dating, I hope to see you at 2021! :)
Until then!

Chapter 4: 'We’re taking a break'

Summary:

While the rest of them try to get a better feeling of Alexandria, trying to adapt into their new surroundings, Carl and Beth mingle with their new friends. Amanda decides to settle down Rick's growing anxiety.

Notes:

Hello, happy new year again and all--hopefully this year will be better than the last one, oh PLEASE, GOD!

I decided to make chapter's title and summaries because my lovely beta does it, lol. She does it so nicely, and I enjoy it a lot, so wanted to try it, too. I'm gonna use a quote from the chapter for each title, and it's gonna be fun to decide on one, I think. Haven't still done it, but will do it for the previous chapters too.
Like always, enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The next day started with relative easiness.

They were still huddled up in the living room, cuddled together like hippies. The thought almost brought a smile to Amanda as she stirred where she was curled up beside Beth on the floor on their bedrolls and the quilts they’d brought down from the bedrooms. Carl and Judith were tucked between her and Rick, with Carl closest to Amanda and Rick's baby girl held protectively close to his chest where she'd been since he came back from watch.

Rick had a habit of keeping physical contact with his children whenever he lay down to rest, as if to make sure they were here with him. Even with her, he did the same after they drifted into sleep, keeping their bodies as close as possible. A few times, Amanda even caught him listening to their breathing, just like that night when they’d come back from the woods after getting Carl back. It was the time that Amanda liked the most, silent and peaceful, touching each other.

Silent and peaceful. It reminded Amanda again of last night and how good it felt.

She stretched a bit, raising her hands where she lay, a smile curving up her lips an inch. It still felt nice. She wondered if the easiness she felt was a remnant of last night, the way Rick had made her relaxed. She wouldn’t mind getting…relaxed a few times more like that. Perhaps even more… But she really wanted to enjoy this thoroughly, this sweet calmness, not rush into it. It was something so new to her, she wanted to experience it fully. Wanted Rick to do stuff for her, cook for her, take her to…a movie. Perhaps they could even make out, forgetting about it.

This was it. The thing they’d always said after admitting they had feelings for each other. Where they could try and see. It buzzed her insides with an energy that didn’t seem adequate or proper, so Amanda tried to quell it down, sitting up—

Her eyes caught sight of Beth.

Suddenly her mood dampened, and she felt like she was doing something she really shouldn’t—like she was betraying Beth. She shouldn’t feel like this!

Maggie. They’d lost Maggie three weeks ago, buried her upon a ridge. They’d wandered in that hell for weeks, spent, that damn vulture circling above their heads, the dead lingering behind them. Which one of us are you here for? Her question echoed in her as Rick answered: We tell ourselves we’re the walking dead.

The memory made her so sad her bursting positive feelings dimmed in a bleak dismay, like someone covered a light inside her with black tulle. The light was still there under the blackness, but so out of reach. Rick caught her movements as she stood up silently.

“Hey—” he called out to her in a low voice. “Ya okay?”

She gave him an absent, brief nod. “Yeah…”

Rick got to his feet, too, carefully resting Judith on Carl’s chest, leaving the cushioning the baby mission to her sleeping brother.  Judith had made a fuss last night again until Rick settled her on his chest.

“I want to take care of this before the others wake up—” Rick motioned his hand over his beard. “Coming?”

Amanda thought of last night and swallowed before she shook her head. “I saw oats,” she declined. “I’m gonna make oatmeal. You, go ahead.”

Without waiting for a reply from him, she turned and trotted towards the kitchen. She placed the oats they’d brought yesterday on the counter and put water into the kettle. She’d never liked oatmeal without milk, but in the supplies she also found powdered milk. There were dried fruits and nuts, too, so it wasn’t too bad. Beggars cannot be choosers, she almost told herself again, but suppressing it, she forced it away from her mind.

Sasha and Joan joined her before the water boiled, whistling. “I wonder where the owners of this house were…” Sasha muttered while Amanda stirred the porridge in a pot. “The house is decorated, but not enough with personal stuff. I wonder if they ever lived here.”

Amanda knew what the woman meant. The houses were lacking any of the personal touches that accumulated when people lived in a place. They were full of furniture, and the drawers had necessities, utensils, and clothes. There were even some photo frames they’d dutifully hid in the drawers, but there weren’t any personal items lying around or outdated newspapers or magazines.

Even her own sterile, one-bedroom small apartment had that kind of personal stuff before, things that indicated that someone lived there regularly, even though she didn’t have any photos on display or in her drawers.

 “Some rich man’s escape from D.C—” Amanda remarked absently, remembering what Rick had said about Beatrice. “Never lived here truly, but kept it well furnished.”

“For which I’m eternally grateful,” Joan quipped, giving her a smirk. “I can’t wait to try those beds—” she said further. “When will we start sleeping upstairs?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps it’d be better if we stay close for a while.”

It was still something Amanda wasn’t looking forward to. Joan darted a look at her but didn’t comment. “We’re still not sure of this place.”

Joan only gave a half nod before she started cutting up a few dried figs and mixed them with raisins for the oatmeal. Carol stalked inside the kitchen, followed by Abraham. “Is this…” the big, muscled redhead sniffed, raising his head. “…cinnamon I’m smelling?”

Amanda made a loud sound. Cinnamon. It smelled—heavenly. “Yes, cinnamon and oatmeal.”

“Sweet baby Jesus—” the man muttered as Rick walked in—

And Amanda stared… He—he’d shaved his beard fully.

There was no trace of facial hair anymore on his face, he was clean shaven. His jaw protruded even stronger, more prominent, his jawline looking like it was neatly chiseled. He looked so different without the long, scruffy hair covering his face, Amanda couldn’t almost recognize him for a moment. Even in the prison, he always used to sport stubble, sometimes trimmed, sometimes not, but always there.

Although she had no idea why, something bugged her in a way because she couldn’t be sure if she liked it or not. It wasn’t what she’d meant when she told him to cut his beard. Perhaps her mind just couldn’t work around a beardless Rick Grimes.

“Wow!” Abraham bellowed in the sudden shocked silence, as Amanda also realized she wasn’t the only who must feel like this. The others were staring at Rick in the same fashion, too. He'd changed his brown tee shirt to a denim blue shirt he’d probably found in the house.

“I almost couldn’t recognize you, Deputy,” the ex-soldier remarked before he gave Rick a wicked smirk. “Ha, you really were hiding a Hollywood face under that bush, huh?”

The glare Rick gave the man was enough to chill an entire continent. Amanda perhaps would’ve called his look less…edgier if Rick wasn’t still having that sharpness in his gaze. But no. He wasn’t softer, just…different. Ignoring the sergeant, Rick walked to her.

Her eyes closed momentarily as she drew in a breath and took in his scent, this time only him without his usual extra layers… earth, woods, sweat, and blood. It was just him with fresh soap…mixing with cinnamon. She felt her head turning. “Cinnamon?” he asked like each newcomer to the kitchen, standing at her side by the counter.

Amanda nodded. “You shaved it all?” she asked, stirring the pot, her eyes moving up to his clean-shaven face again.

Rick shrugged. “I don’t know. I was going to trim it. Then thought…why not?” He paused. “It was too long to do it properly.” His eyes searched hers. They looked the same; keen and penetrating as always. “Don’t you like it?”

“It looks different.”

Rick chuckled lightly. “I never used to have a beard before. Always clean cut.”

Amanda nodded again but didn’t say anything because suddenly her chest tightened. Perhaps he just wanted his old self back. She swallowed lowly, words from yesterday finding her again. Lori used to dream about us living in one of these houses one day…

She stirred the oatmeal slowly, bowing her head.

They ate breakfast, having tea or coffee along with the oatmeal, and started talking about their interviews. It’d taken too much time yesterday that they couldn’t do it properly, or they just hadn’t cared enough. But it was a new day now.

Her eyes darted to Rick, his new look… Amanda moved her gaze away.

Less than fifteen minutes later, it became obvious that none of them was actually appointed to any job yet. “She wants us to cool down first,” Rick explained as Amanda took another small spoonful of her oatmeal, searching for raisins as she half sat on the stool.

They were still six of them: Abraham, Carol, Sasha, Joan, Rick and her circling the kitchen island, some on the stools, some standing. The rest of them were still in the living room, either sleeping or just resting.

Amanda didn’t like to get too crowded. She even thought of going upstairs and finally take a shower after breakfast. She still needed to look for some sheets to make diapers for Judith. After a thought, she’d thrown away the dirty, makeshift diaper yesterday. She could find some real diapers around here or at least make new ones from sheets. They were too old, much too used now. Or perhaps she could just go and ask Aaron. On the other hand, she also wanted to know what the others had talked about with Deanna. Especially what the sergeant had talked about with Deanna.

Rick was eyeing the man as he took the last bite from his bowl, measuring him, as if he thought the same. Amanda didn’t know how this going to D.C. thing would work now, but she knew one thing for sure, just like he’d told the sergeant before.

Rick wouldn’t want to leave until he was sure the kids were going to be one hundred percent safe after they left. At that moment, Amanda also realized that there might be a good possibility that he would choose not to take the risk. Rick had never believed in the cure, not really. She’d always felt Rick only agreed in the end because they wanted it and because they didn’t have any better option.

And now that they had it… Sasha shrugged, swallowing down her own porridge. “Well, I don’t particularly oppose that.”

 “Me neither—” Joan agreed. “Though she told me she wanted me to be in the infirmary of the town. They have a surgeon. I’m to train with him.”

Well, that was expected. Joan was a fully trained nurse who used to work in the ER. It made sense. They nodded.  “Bob, too—” Sasha supplied in for her boyfriend.

“I told her about the mission,” Abraham declared. They all turned to him. “She said one of her supply teams is on a long-planned supply run, but when they come back, we might talk about it.”

“When will they return?” Rick questioned, settling his finished bowl on the countertop.

Abraham gave a shrug. “She wasn’t certain. About two or three weeks, I think.” The ex-soldier paused, letting out a grumble. “Although I ain’t sure if we should wait that long—"

Rick shook his head, cutting him off. “No. We have to make sure everything is safe and secure with this place first,” he asserted just like Amanda had expected.

Abraham’s jaw set, but before he could speak, Rosita sauntered in the kitchen. “I think we don’t mind waiting for a few weeks, get back on our feet—” the Latina turned to her boyfriend. “Right, Abraham?”

The man gave a curt jerk of his head. “Aye.”

Rosita made a sniff too. “Is this cinnamon?” she asked. Amanda almost sighed.

“Yeah—” she said, waving her hand at the pot. “Oatmeal with dried fruits, nuts, and cinnamon. Help yourself.”

The Latina padded towards the stove eagerly as everyone started minding their own business; some just left the kitchen, some started doing the dishes. 

“Hey—” Amanda walked closer to Rick as out of the corner of her eye, she saw Joan carrying a small bowl outside and wondered if it was for Daryl. “Why don’t you go find Aaron and ask if they have baby stuff?” she asked Rick, turning her attention to him again.

Her eyes caught his long wet dark curls that brushed his neck. Without his beard, their visibility had become more pronounced, too. “Diapers, clothes, baby products, toys, books,” she went on, her eyes still fixated on his hair. “Perhaps a crib—” Her hand shot up before she could stop herself, and she passed her fingertips through his wet locks. They were so…silky between her fingers now, who knew perhaps he’d even used some conditioner. He smelled so good.

She moved a step closer, murmuring. “She’s become too much habituated to sleep with you. Needs her own bed.”

“Yeah.” Rick neared towards her too, his eyes turning a darker shade as Amanda gently started massaging the nape of his neck, his scent filling her nostrils…so good, he smelled so good… “Do you want me to cut it, too?” Rick asked with a rough voice, leaning into her touch.

Amanda shook her head. “No, leave it be,” she breathed out throatily and murmured, “I like it like this.” 

Rick took a step further in toward her. Her hand curled up around his neck. Rick dipped his head as Amanda raised on her tiptoes.

A soft baby wheezing reached them. They both flinched back, Amanda letting her hand drop as she slid a step back and turned aside from Rick. His baby sister scooped up in his arms, Carl crossed the threshold, his face expressionless, only mouthing a small, cool ‘morning’, not looking at them.

Judith just made her soft baby noises. Amanda pointed to the stove. “There’s some oatmeal left,” she said. “And tea.”

Carl nodded briskly, walking over to the stove. Rick cleared his throat a bit. “I’ll go find Aaron. You coming?”

Going to look for baby stuff with him? She swallowed. She really wanted to find stuff for Judith, especially a children’s book to read her, like she had thought in the woods, but... Even from where she was, she could see Carl’s ears straining. And people had already started talking.

“I need to take a shower,” she uttered. It wasn’t a false excuse, either. It was a fact. She needed to take a shower, to prepare. Maybe take a patrol and check out the town more. They still hadn’t done it properly, had been dawdling around yesterday.

As if reading her mind, Rick nodded. “We need to talk with Deanna again. I want to know everything about this place’s security. The watches, the patrols, the shifts. Their numbers. Their arsenal.”

Amanda bobbed her head almost absentmindedly. There were so many things to discuss. She couldn’t even imagine the precautions and safety measures Rick would demand until he was settled down and deemed the town protected enough.

The weeks they passed in the wilderness after Maggie died had only increased the levels of Rick’s paranoia. Amanda wished she could say he was overreacting, overbearing, but she knew better. Her gaze caught Carl and Judith again. “Yeah. After you come back, we round up and go to her.”

The rounding up usually meant a gathering of Rick, herself, Daryl, Abraham, Carol, and Sasha now: a sort of council like they had in the prison. Sometimes Glenn participated too, listening to them in silence, but mostly he still kept to himself.

Rick gave another nod before he walked out of the kitchen. In silence, Carl came to the island and sat on one of the stools, setting Judith across his lap. Amanda circled around the counter. “I can take her—” she said, reaching up to take the baby girl from him. “You eat in peace.”

Carl nodded. “Thank you.”

Amanda tucked the baby girl on her hip and questioned Carl. “How was yesterday?” she asked, trying to make some small talk. “Rick told me you made some friends.”

Later in the night when they’d come back after that rather…weird encounter with the man on the porch, Beth and Carl had already gone to sleep, so they wouldn’t have talked. Amanda had slipped beside Beth then over the quilts and bedrolls, trying to lure herself into sleep. She hadn’t managed easily.

Across from her, on the other side of the kids, she knew Rick wasn’t any different. She knew he was still awake even when she’d finally drifted into sleep. Amanda suspected he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep last night. Rick hardly slept anymore these days. Just stood guard on watch or lay awake until she slipped into his arms. He usually massaged her strained muscles first when she did, then let it go for a little while.

Carl took a spoonful of the cold oatmeal and shrugged. “They were okay.”

“They were ridiculous.” Beth sashayed inside, her lips holding a grimace. “Never seen outside the walls even once.”

There was spite in her voice and enmity that sounded so…unlike Beth. Amanda barely held herself back from pointing out that a few months earlier, the teenager had been much the same.

“Maybe their times haven’t come yet,” she lowly muttered and pointed at the stove again as Beth scowled further. “There’s oatmeal. Help yourself. I’m taking a shower.”

She walked out of the kitchen. Inside the living room, she started looking for Carol to pass Judith to her, but couldn’t find her. She approached Joan. “Hey—have you seen Carol?”

The nurse pointed upstairs with her head. “Brought Mika to the shower—” she answered.

Ah. Well, it sounded like she lost her chance. Her mind briefly went to the sharing again, nineteen people, two houses. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms per house. Not to mention the one was in the master bedroom. God, getting ready in the morning was going to be like hell. The powder room downstairs would take a bit of the load, but there was no shower there. Yet, it was still better than what they’d had in the woods. Nothing.

She flicked a look towards the hall and wondered if she could go and shower in the bathroom in the master bedroom before Joan remarked; “The girl and boy that came yesterday dropped by. They’re waiting outside. They said something about school. Where’s Carl and Beth?”

“In the kitchen. Having breakfast—” Amanda said and turned to go to check it, remembering Jessie’s words yesterday.

The woman must have sent her son before the school like she’d promised. Amanda took Judith’s faded pink cardigan from the hallstand beside the door and draped it over the baby for the morning chill before she stepped out on the porch, leaving her own jacket still on its peg.

Outside, a girl who looked like a smaller—shorter and tinier— version of Beatrice Reese stood with a dirty blonde teenage boy. She was clad in an attire even worse suited than Rosita, a plaid pleated mini skirt, stockings, and such. She looked around Carl’s age, and the boy around Beth’s, sixteen or seventeen at most. “Hey—” the boy greeted her.

“Hey—” Amanda greeted them back as the blonde girl looked at her under her bowed head with a…bored expression as she inspected her long, manicured burgundy nails.

On closer look, Amanda realized the girl was wearing a sort of private school uniform. The plaid pleated skirt was dark navy, and so was the fitted jacket she wore over a white shirt, trimmed with burgundy edges. Around her neck, there was a dark green ribbon bowtie with a brooch, and on her chest, the jacket bore an emblem of a private school Amanda had never heard of. On her feet, the girl even wore black pumps with two-inch heels. Her silky blonde hair was lush and straightened, even down to her perfectly modeled bangs that framed the sides of her forehead.

They were ridiculous, Beth’s words passed in her mind, but Amanda tried not to let prejudice cloud her judgement. Rosita’s attire was as inappropriate as the girl’s, but Rosita had proven herself quite capable. But they were going to school. The girl probably still wanted to hang onto a sort of normalcy in their crazy life. Amanda would be the last person on earth who would judge anyone for that. She was quite obsessively attached to her own uniform.

At least what she had left from it. Only her combat pants, combat boots, her holster, and her boot knife. The rest was all lost now.

On her close scrutiny, the girl’s eyes, mossy green like Amanda’s, moved up openly, and she gave Amanda a look before she flicked her gaze towards Judith. “Carl said he had a baby sister—” she spoke with a sort of placid tone, as if she was really as bored as she looked. “Are you his mother?”

Amanda’s expression stiffened, wondering if the girl was just trying to be bitchy because she stared or was genuinely curious. Somehow Amanda couldn’t decide. “No—” she replied simply.

The boy checked his wrist. “Are they coming or not?” he asked. “My mother told us to pick them up.”

“They are eating breakfast.” Amanda turned to the girl. “You must be Beatrice’s sister.” She couldn’t remember the names. Rick had mentioned them, but she was too caught with Beth to give any notice.

The girl gave an indifferent nod. “Yeah. Clarice—” she introduced herself. “This is Ron.”

Amanda slanted a look at the boy. He looked like he took more after his mother than his father they saw yesterday on the porch. “Why don’t you tell me where this school is?” Amanda asked. “I’ll send them there when they’re finished.”

It was Clarice who answered her inquiry again. “We’re all in the community center—” She pointed with her head at north, then her tongue loosened, she started chattering a little bit more easily. “In different levels. Eric usually has our class. For today, Reg will fill in in his place. Heard he got injured in his leg when they brought you in.”

Her look was questionable as much as her tone, but Amanda ignored it. “Yes—” she brushed it off and started turning to leave. “Thank you for dropping by. I’ll let Beth and Carl know. They will bring Mika too.”

Leaving them, Amanda walked back inside. She wondered if every introduction was going to be like this. She found Carl and Beth in the kitchen and told them their new friends were waiting for them at the school. “I’m not going to school—” Beth shot back as soon as the words left her mouth.

“Yes, you are—” Amanda said. It would be good to her, to be around people in her age. Getting to know new people. Beth always liked people. But the teenager shook her head.

“No. This is ridiculous—” she repeated. “Going to a school—”

“I’m just saying go and see it—” Amanda cut her off, whisking her head away from Judith as the baby girl tried to take a hold of her hair. “They say there’s a junior class for the younger kids. Mika would like it. Take her there. Make friends.”

“I don’t want to make friends!” Beth bit off, raising her voice, and jumped from the stool as the same time Judith mimicked her. The baby girl threw herself aside over Amanda’s crooked elbow. “I want to start training again. When will we start?”

“W-we just came, Beth—” Amanda answered with a voice she hoped was cool enough, hoisting up Judith again in her grip.  The baby girl just couldn’t stay put for a second!

“You were solving murder mysteries after a day in the prison!” Beth exclaimed at her face.

Amanda blinked as Judith lobbed herself at her side again. “Beth—”

Without another word, Beth stormed off out of the kitchen. Amanda stared at her retreating back. She might’ve looked very…helpless because Carl stepped down from the stool and gave her a look. “I’ll talk to her,” he told her, and he sounded enough…level-headed. “We’ll take Mika too.”

Amanda nodded. “Thanks.”

“You’ll take care of Judy?” he asked her.

Amanda nodded again wordlessly as Carl left the kitchen.

After that, with Judith still trying to break free from her, Amanda slumped back on the stool Carl had vacated and heaved a deep sigh.

# # #

“Hey—” Leaving the house, Carl jogged after his friend. “Hey—Beth—”

They both stood on the porch, looking at the town. Daryl still must be around the back, as Carl couldn’t see him. A quick peek to his left, around the corner, revealed him. He was sitting on the little steps of the deck in the backyard, his back leaned against the corner of the beams. Joan was standing on the other side as Daryl ate the oatmeal in that quick way as if he’d never eaten anything at all in his life before.

It always amused Carl; the way Daryl ate. His mother always used to warn him not to eat too quickly—his mother. Carl forced his mind away from the thought. His mother wasn’t here anymore. There was nothing left from her now, not even a single photo.

When Carl saw the house, the first thing his eyes caught was the framed photos. He’d lost his mother’s photo again. Judith wasn’t really going to know what their mother looked like anymore. His thought spiraled further, them almost kissing again and that thought brought up another one before Carl stopped himself. His father thrusting in her repeatedly, rapidly against a tree, his hand covering her mouth, his other hand holding her wrist above her head.…

It was a memory Carl would never ever want to remember, but each time he saw them sucking face, he couldn’t help it, the image assaulted him. “This is ridiculous—” Beth murmured angrily, shaking her head.

Carl shrugged. “Yeah—"

“Does she really expect us to go to a school?”

“Dad mentioned yesterday that we should check it out,” Carl replied. All in honesty, he felt it was ridiculous as well. “I don’t think they know it as well. Just do it.” Beth shrugged. “Mika would like it, though—” Carl added offhandedly.

“Yeah—” Beth finally agreed with a sigh.

Carl gave her a look. “We going?”

His friend sighed again. “Fine.”

Carl could almost hear Amanda’s frustrated tones in Beth’s voice when she said the word like that. It was funny because no matter how cross they were at each other now, Beth had started sounding much like her. “Go grab Mika—” she ordered him.

Carl tilted the edge of his Sheriff’s hat towards her as he turned. “Yes, ma’am.” He heard a faint giggle behind his back as he walked back inside.

He looked at Mika who sat between Carol and Joan, playing with Judith on the rugs. “Where’s Amanda?” he asked.

“Went to take a shower—” Joan replied. “Are you going to school?”

“Yeah—” He waved over Mika. “They say they got a junior class. Amanda told us to take Mika, too.”

Carol nodded. “Okay. But be careful.”

Always. They were always careful. Carl bobbed his head a little as Mika stood up dutifully. They started walking towards the community center together. It was a large white building that faced the large pond. They’d made the full tour yesterday with Ron and Clarice.

Their new…friends, well, Carl couldn’t decide. They were fine, but sometimes it felt like they were making fun of them. But they were good hosts. They’d showed them everything. The fitness center and swimming pool were inside the center, too. The swimming pool was in the basement as the fitness center was on the first floor. The long windows of the saloon were also facing the pond. The treadmills were just in front of them so you could enjoy the view while you ran. There were a couple of other studios as well, they had seen a boxing studio and some weird stuff Clarice had called as a Pilates reformer machine.

Outside of the center, there was an open patio, and outdoor garden furniture and rows of tables and gazebos were lined up around the ponds in a small groove. In the pond, there were even some ducks. Carl listened to their quacks again, craning his head aside. Tucked on the first floor at the other side, there was the small daycare of the town, too, and its kindergarten. Carl would only imagine Judith’s joy upon seeing the place.

Ron and Clarice were standing in front of the building with a tall, blonde woman. “Hi—” the woman greeted them. “I’m Jessie. Ron’s mom—” she said, “And you must be Carl and Beth.” They nodded. The woman looked down at Mika with a gentle smile. “And you, Mika. I teach the kids—” she said further, holding up her hand to Mika. “You wanna come and meet your new friends?”

Tightening her delicate grip in his hand a bit, Mika turned to him. Carl nodded at the girl. “It’s okay. Amanda and Carol said you can go.”

Slowly, Mika took the woman’s hand. Jessie turned to her son. “Reg will be here soon. Don’t stay outside too long.”

Ron bobbed his head halfway and watched as his mother walked inside. As soon as she vanished, he turned to them and pointed with his head. “Let’s go.”

Carl frowned. “Where?”

His new friend tossed him a look, almost mocking. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Grimes?” he taunted as both he and Clarice started walking around the pond.

Sharing a brief look with Beth, they turned, too, and followed. They circled the building’s backside and arrived at a secluded gazebo that faced the woods behind Alexandria’s great wall with a small view of the pond.

Clarice quickly went inside the wooden gazebo and perching on the deck, she crossed her legs.

Carl’s eyes shifted. Her legs were very long and slim, and the sheer black stockings… Carl couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a woman wearing stockings. The image—the image stirred something in him. He felt himself…hardening. Quickly, Carl turned his gaze away, a heat rising in him. Clarice’s green eyes spotted with dark honey dots turned to him as if she caught his blush.

Ron fished out something flashy of his pocket just at that moment, and Clarice reached out beside him.

Cigarette. Carl understood the next second.

Clarice pulled one from the package Ron was dangling in front of her. “Nicholas brought them from the last run—” she explained.

Carl didn’t have an idea who Nicholas was, but he wondered if the others knew he was bringing teenagers smokes. Ron took one himself, too, before turning aside, he offered the pack to Carl.

He stared at it. Clarice’s laughter ringed in the air. “Don’t tell me you haven’t smoked before.”

The way the girl uttered the words made him feel weird, and Carl reacted. He reached out, but before he could take one, Beth’s hand crossed his, and grabbed one of the cigarettes out of the pack. She pulled it free.

Carl shot her a look. Ron turned to her. “You smoked before?” he asked, putting the smoke in between his lips.

“No—” Beth said. “But it was on my list.”

“What list?” Clarice asked, placing her own between her lips, too. Carl took one for himself and did the same as he noticed her red painted nails were long and round.

“The things I need to do before I die—” Beth answered with a shrug as his hand momentarily halted.

Carl slanted a look to her as Ron leaned toward her further with his lighter to light her cigarette first. “Yeah—” he muttered through the smoke. “Got a list like that myself, too.”

Beth smiled before she took a breath—and started coughing.

Both their new friends started laughing. Carl took a breath, bracing himself, but he couldn’t help it either. He started coughing himself     .

“God—” Beth bristled, taking off the cigarette, “This is as awful as alcohol—” she murmured, looking at the lit thing. “Why do you even smoke?”

Clarice shrugged, taking a drag from her cigarette. “I don’t know. Probably because Beatrice wouldn’t want me to.” She gave them a smirk.

They both laughed. “You got a drink, too?” Beth asked, smirking back.

Clarice turned to him. “Carl—” she rolled his name over in her mouth, her voice sounding…silky. Beside her, Beth’s brows tightened. “Your friend’s trying to get us in trouble.”

Carl took a puff from his smoke and managed to hold down a cough this time. “You’ve made us smoke.”

Ron and Clarice laughed. “Guilty as charged,” she muttered, pulling another drag from her smoke, her honey-flecked green eyes on his.

Carl felt himself starting to blush and angled his head, tilting his hat. “That hat—where did you find it?” Ron asked.

“It’s my dad’s.”

“Have you ever killed one of those…things out there?” Clarice asked, looking at them.

They both shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Are they disgusting?” He couldn’t be sure, but Carl picked up an…interest in her voice.

“There are far more disgusting things than ‘em—” Beth slowly answered before Carl did, taking another breath in. He shot her another look but didn’t say anything.

There was nothing to say. She was right. The night under the moonlight tried to come back to him, but Carl didn’t let it. He forced the memory away, but Ron suddenly pointed at Beth’s right hand as she held the cigarette.

“Your hand—” their new friend looked at her wound. “What happened to it?”

Beth dropped her hand and opened up her palm, the smoke still burning at the end of her fingers. She lifted her eyes up at them and smiled sweetly. “Oh, this—” she remarked, her voice sounding almost…airy. “It’s nothing. There were these men in the woods one night—” Her eyes stared at them as her smile froze on her lips. “They nailed me on a car to force Carl to rape me.”

Their smokes forgotten in their hands, their new friends stared at them.

Silently, Carl took another drag from his cigarette.

# # #

The first thing Rick noticed when he walked in Deanna Monroe’s living room again was the man who had offered something harder to Amanda. The next thing was the man’s small, kind smile as Amanda halted briefly in the doorway, Rick at her heels. He scowled, eyeing the half tug at the corner of the man’s lips, while Amanda ignored it.

Monroe’s glance shifted over to Rick for a second as he stood behind her. Rick returned it, placing his hand across the small of her back lightly and lingering for a second longer as they crossed the threshold. In answer, Monroe’s thin lips curved an inch higher. Rick didn’t let it bother him. Amanda—well, Amanda seemed like she’d decided to ignore both of them.

She quickened her pace and stood beside the camera behind the couch. Deanna was at the other side of the camera as Monroe stood by the window. Beside them, there was Aaron, Deanna’s younger son, the psychologist, and an older man Rick hadn’t seen before.

“This is Tobin—” Deanna introduced them. “Reg is covering for Eric in the school today as he rests. Tobin has taken his place. He’s Reg’s second-in-command, responsible for construction and building in the town with Reg.”

Rick nodded. “How’s Eric?” Amanda asked, turning to Aaron. Rick had learned he’d taken to the sick bay this morning when he went to look for the crib. Their luck still was holding, as the town had a daycare. They’d found a mini crib, a playpen, toys, books, even coloring pencils, and some other baby stuff Judith had been lacking for a long while and moved them to their house. They’d put them in the living room, but Rick had started thinking maybe they should move upstairs now.

If this was going to be the place, they had to start somewhere. They could still hold watches, but sleeping in the living room, huddled together on the floor wasn’t going to work.

It'd also become apparent to him after last night he—uh—just couldn’t share a room with Amanda yet. That part had become clear, too. They were taking it slow. They weren’t going to rush things this time. He’d promised her. He wanted to spend time with her, like he’d said, without the toll and stress of being on the run. Cook her dinner, take her out on…dates…as much as they could manage.

And, Rick had to be sure. Sure that this place was safe as his family settled down.

“He’s good—” Aaron answered her question as Rick eyed Amanda. Her hair—her clean damp hair - was up again in the half ponytail. She looked clean, she looked good. Her pale, freshly scrubbed skin was still reddened as she was newly out of the shower before they left for Deanna’s house.

She smelled like honey milk body wash and…cinnamon. He could still smell cinnamon under her scent as if after the shower she’d made another oatmeal for Judith. Her scent almost made Rick lose it when he was back from seeing Aaron, but seeing her like this? Wet, scrubbed reddish, smelling honey milk and cinnamon? It took everything not to throw her over his shoulder and bring her up to the bed and have her just right there, waiting be damned.

Sometimes he wanted her so much, Rick really felt scared.

He glanced at her again and noticed Aiden Monroe was doing the same. The urge to put his hand on the small of her back to give the man another message rose strong, but a darting look from Amanda advised him not to. Instead, Rick merely stood beside her. Bowing his head, Monroe hid his smirk that had grown wider.

The asshole looked like he was actually having a…good time. Rick scowled more. It didn’t help that the man looked a decade younger than him, healthier, more in shape, more at ease. His jaw squared. Amanda always felt worked up with this intensity between them, that ferocious intimacy. “Pete has taken him to the sick bay—” Aaron said, breaking through his musings.

Pete, as Rick had found out this morning, was the weird man on the porch who had welcomed him to the town drunkenly last night. Pete was also the town’s surgeon, Aaron had explained. He was also Ron’s father, the boy who had come to give Carl a tour yesterday with Beatrice’s sister. They were living in the house beside Beatrice’s, across from Deanna’s, and the placement of the house had also told Rick plainly where the man stood in the town’s…hierarchy.

His tour and his little talk in the morning had made it quite clear to Rick. The house and the lands they owned got bigger as they moved up over the hill, having a clear view of the pond and the town below. It was unmistakably clear, as was the way of Deanna’s placement of their houses. At the outskirts of the slope, close to the main gate, at the opposite side of Deanna’s house.

They still weren’t one of them. Deanna was optimistic, not stupid. Rick guessed it was her way of making things clear for them, but well, they would see about that.

But first… He turned to Aiden Monroe. “How do you keep this place safe?” he questioned directly.

Aiden Monroe’s head whipped at him. His tone was curt, firm, and Rick was glad to see that it had the effect on the man he’d hoped. The older Monroe frowned. “We take watches—”

“I only saw one man at the outpost when we came in—” he cut him off.

“At the gate duty—” Monroe returned. “There were a few more, too.”

“Yeah—” he murmured, making a face. He remembered those. He pointed at the window with his head. “The bell tower—” he remarked. “It’s got a clear vantage point. Do you have lookouts there?”

“No—” the younger man answered. “We only—”

“You have to—” Rick cut him off. They always had to be on watch. They couldn’t be caught unaware again. They could not. Rick wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. Wasn’t going to go out and see a tank out of his walls one morning. Nothing—nothing would sneak up at them again like that. Never. Never again.

There has to be someone up there, twenty-four seven. Sasha is a good shot. We could arrange a shift rotation with your guys—” Rick turned towards her. The Afro-American woman nodded. He didn’t trust Monroe’s men, so he had to be sure if they would do—perhaps he would even have a shift himself.

“How many patrols do you have?” he continued.

“We take watches at the gate—” Monroe repeated.

“You don’t regularly check the perimeters?” Amanda asked this time before him, her voice sounding…surprised. Rick shared the sentiment.

The dark haired man shrugged. “Sometimes we walk—”

Rick shook his head, anger finding him. Deanna was just silent beside him. “You have to have regular patrols. Inside. Outside.”

With the last word, they all looked at him. Even his own people. “Outside?” Tobin asked.

Rick gave a terse nod. “Outer watches,” he stated. “We need to set up a perimeter outside out of the wall and make sure nothing would approach us without our knowledge.” In his mind, Wolves Not Far written in blood all over the destroyed, burned, and butchered town flashed.

No. They were not going to get caught unaware again. The older Monroe shook his head. “The dead—”

Rick cut in once more, “—aren’t the only thing you should be scared of.” His eyes turned to Deanna as his tone grew heated. “People are worse. Before we came here, we found a town like this butchered, burned to the ground.  Are there any signs out there?” he questioned further.

“Rick—” Amanda tried to interject, but he stopped her raising his hand. “This is a big project. Is there any billboards or such in the towns, on the road or somewhere with ads.” What Aaron had told them when he’d found them—the recruiter had spoken as if he was intoning from published material, words memorized. Alexandria’s Dream. A life of sustainability.

You just should’ve pulled down the signs, learned to protect yourself better, his own words to that monster came to him. Rick was going to listen to his own damn advice.

“Yeah. There are those old billboards at the roadside.”

Rick nodded. “We’re gonna pull them down.”

“You have a safe house?” He heard Amanda’s sigh as he continued questioning. All of them were looking at him…strangely now. Even Daryl.

“Man—easy—” his brother said slowly. Rick shook his head.

“We need to arrange a rendezvous point and a safe house to hole up if things go south,” he went on, not listening to them. “Need to work on an evacuation plan—”

“Rick!” Amanda’s voice raised an octave. “One step at a time. Let’s take it…slow.” Rick turned to his heated eyes on her. They couldn’t take this slow. He could play along with her if she didn’t want to sleep with him, but not with this. Not with their safety.

He had to keep them safe! “This is why we’re here!” he protested. “This is why she wanted me here!”

To his surprise, Deanna spoke beside him. “Rick is right. This is why he’s here—” the old woman nodded. “Let him do his job.” She turned to him and asked coolly. “What else do you think we need?”

“A sort of battlement to walk atop on the wall—” Rick answered quickly. “We need to have access to the heights.”

Deanna turned to Tobin, who answered him. “Not battlements, perhaps, but we could build a few more platforms along the wall.”

Rick nodded. “Can we reinforce the wall?” he questioned. “Deanna mentioned concrete.”

The older man nodded. “Reg and I thought about it before, but we don’t have necessary equipment.”

“Prepare me a list—” Rick said in return. “I’ll look into it.” He paused. “If we close the access avenues on the road, that could help, too.”

“Like military checkpoints?” Monroe read his intentions.

Rick gave another quick nod. “The whole thing is about not getting caught unguarded, unaware,” he explained, his agitation somewhat settling after Deanna’s approval. “If we’re faced with a threat greater than us, that would allow us time to prepare and plan a counterattack, or at least move on with the emergency plans.”

“Yes. Excellent—” the older woman turned to her son. “Hope you wrote all this down, Aiden,” she quipped with her smile.

For a second, Rick thought Aiden was going to roll his eyes. But what he did was worse. He turned and gave that smile at Amanda. “I think I’m gonna need a bit of help.” He looked back at his mother. “Can I take Officer Shepherd, Mother? She could help us prepare.”

Rick’s jaw throbbed. “I need Amanda to train people—” Rick said before she could answer. “Daryl and I will help you.”

Her jaw setting as she frowned, Amanda slanted a look at him. “Aaron said there are people who haven’t seen outside yet. They need to learn how to fight. We can’t have them like that.”

Ford moved in, too. “Rosita and I can help,” he remarked. “Until the other supply team arrives.”

Rick nodded. Amanda’s expression soured even more. “I can help you, too, Aiden, when I’m available,” she said, and Rick wondered if she just did it to make him…rattled.

His clenched jaw moved, and Rick almost opened his mouth to tell her they should talk about it later, but Deanna beat it to him. “We shall talk about division of labor and fighting classes later in detail,” she said, putting a stop to the discussion. “Come—” The old woman waved at him and started walking towards the dining room. “There’s something I want you to see.”

On the table, Rick saw plans again. Deanna rolled out the biggest one over the table, the one with that Latin script. “This’s the Alexandria we envision—” she announced, and Rick heard a hopeful, proud devotion in her tone.

Bowing his head as the other joined them, Rick studied the plan. The town was detailed in scale, down to the walls, but more—much more than now was added. The grounds were enlarging towards the east—to the woods.

Expansion.

Deanna and her husband were planning an expansion. “This is gonna need a lot of work, hard labor—” Deanna remarked with that devoted tone. “But this is what we could build. For our children.”

Rick looked at the plans. There were two lines of walls, like the fences in the prison, and a protected field for crops between them in rows. For the expanded grounds towards the woods, they were going to need to prep the soil to make it suitable for planting, cutting out the trees and roots. A lot of hard labor, indeed. There was a much bigger school complex at the east side, with gardens and playgrounds circling it, a church, a hospital, and a windmill.

Pointing at the sketch, Deanna smiled. “Reg thinks we can manage it. He’s studying the engineering of it now.”

Rick nodded again. A mill. Where they could make their own flour, grind their crops. In the prison, he’d started thinking about it, but had never come that far. He’d thought of going old school, finding grinding stones to make flour from crops, but this was even better.

They could even manage to generate power from it if they managed it. Solar panels were good, but the maintenance to keep them up was going to be hard in their situation.

Sustainability. Longevity.

The future.

Though for today, there was still something they could do. “Flower beds, lawns—” Rick intoned, lifting his head. “This is gonna take time, and winter is coming. The front and back yards are good for planting. We need to plant a few winter plants, even create a greenhouse if we can before the brunt of winter arrives.”

Deanna’s expression sobered as she craned her neck up to meet Rick’s gaze. “We like flowers—”

“You’re gonna like food more,” he replied, indifferent, cutting her off.

He had nothing against the flowers. He liked them fine enough too, even had them for his family, made bouquets for Amanda to give her something pretty, but necessities came before luxuries.

“We’re gonna talk later—” Deanna countered with no further regard, rolling up the plans. Rick understood the meeting had come to an end. For today.

There was a lot of discussion they were going to make: about their arsenal, the supplies, the maintenance, even how they were dealing with the sick. That was something else Rick couldn’t let happen. But all those were discussions for another day, too.

Rick nodded curtly and started walking out. The rest of them followed him.

# # #

When they were out of Deanna’s house, Amanda realized something, clear as sky.

Rick needed to lay down. Now.

The way he’d been yesterday morning came to her, the way he took her in his arms, telling her he just wanted to sleep a bit, his tone almost imploring. Amanda really wondered when was the last time he’d really slept, not just a quick nap with two eyes open before dawn, but a real sleep. It must’ve been weeks.

He nudged her as they walked down the street. The others were on their heels, and the streets were still deserted. Alexandria wasn’t an early wake upper. “Let’s go check out that school—” Rick said, wandering his eyes around. “I still haven’t seen the community center properly.”

Amanda shook her head. “No,” she declined. “There’s something else we need to do at the house.”

He gave her a suspicious look. “What?” He paused a second. “Was there a problem?”

“No—” Amanda answered with another head shake, entering the driveway. There was a problem indeed, but nothing they couldn’t fix. “We’re gonna fix it,” she murmured, eyeing the flowers, marigolds, pansies, and a few other species Amanda didn’t know much about other than they would endure the upcoming winter. Alexandria must have a sort of greenhouse to keep up with the gardening with colorful flowers on the grounds.

Rick wanted them gone. The thought made her sad, even though she could see the reason. Food was more important, but they still needed beauty. They still needed flowers, pretty things. They should keep a bit of it, come out on the porch in the morning, and look at the flowers in the first light of the day…

She stopped him on the steps of the porch. “We’re gonna keep a part of the flowers,” she remarked with all seriousness she could muster up. “We still need beauty.”

His eyes found hers again with that searching look, keen blue eyes fixated on hers. Then he nodded. “Okay.”

“Good—” she said, opening the screen door. “Now, come.”

“Amanda—” Rick called out to her as she walked in. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“We’re taking a break—” she replied firmly over her shoulder, then behind his back, she spotted Carol. “Carol, can you look after Judith?” she asked, cooling her voice further. “Rick and I are gonna rest for a while.”

Halting in the corridor, Rick stared at her. Carol brushed by him, continuing on her way to the living room. “Sure—” the older woman said as Amanda snagged his wrist and started dragging him along in the corridor, towards the den.

She stopped in front of the door. “Daryl—” She called out as the hunter moved in the kitchen. “Rick’s taking a break—” she repeated, her hand moving behind her back to hold the door’s handle. “Unless it’s like a herd of thousands banging at the walls, don’t call us.”

 Daryl shot her an almost wry grin. “Got it.”

She smiled back, cracking the door behind her, pushing it back in the room, and making way for Rick. Daryl vanished into the kitchen as Amanda jerked her head inside. “Get in.”

“Am—”

“Not a word, Rick—” she cut him off. “Get in.”

With a curious arch of his brow, Rick passed her at the threshold and walked into the room. Amanda closed the door behind them. He stood beside the door, still looking at her. Amanda knelt in front of him. When she raised her head up to look at him, she saw his brows got lost behind his hairline.

“Carl and Beth are in that school—” she explained, grabbing one of his cowboy boots. She tugged at it and started yanking it off. “Judith is with Carol. Daryl is taking the watch. The others can deal with the rest. We’re gonna sleep a bit.”

She craned her neck again, wondering if he recognized his own words. When she saw his eyes light up, Amanda knew he had. “We need to start moving upstairs, too,” he stated a second later, his eyes still on her, his chin tilted as Amanda began with the other boot.

The statement made her hands halt momentarily, but pulling herself together, Amanda nodded. “Yes. Tomorrow.” They were just going to do it. It was time to start coming back. We’ve been on the edge too long. We have to come back. They weren’t the walking dead.

Amanda stood up. His gaze never left hers as Amanda reached to his shoulders and began removing his suede jacket, rolling it off over his shoulders. He was silent now, letting her strip him, his eyes glued on hers turning heavy with another thing.

This wasn’t it. They weren’t going to have sex. They were going to sleep. Yet a tug throbbed inside her core, too, as Rick kept staring at her intently. She reached out to his duty belt and unbuckled it, bowing her head. She dropped the heavy belt with a thud on the rug covered floor beside the door.

Raising her head, Amanda took his hand. She led him to the couch and made him sit. Perching beside him on the edge of the couch, she took out her boot knife first, then started unlacing her boots. She kicked them off as Rick leaned over her from behind. She twisted aside as his arm circled her waist. “Amanda—”

She stopped him, pressing two fingers on his mouth. Her touch was gentle, but it shut him up. “No more talking—” she warned. “We’re gonna sleep.”

Rick chuckled faintly behind her fingers. “Yes, ma’am.” He lay on his side on the cushion at the corner, bringing her down in the meantime with his arm still coiled around her waist.

Amanda fussed with her empty holster and took it off too as Rick settled them on the couch, spooning behind her, freeing her hair in the meanwhile. Soon enough, they became a tangled mess of limbs. He slung his leg over hers, setting his foot between her feet. Using his own foot, he tugged their socks off, and in a few moments, their tangled bare feet kept each other warm as his hand slipped over to her pants. He didn’t unzip them, just unbuckled her first button and tucked his hand inside her waistline.

Somehow Rick also must’ve felt this wasn’t for sex. They were just taking a break, laying down a bit, sleeping in each other’s arms. They weren’t the walking dead. The knowledge and his consent unwound her further as she relaxed in his embrace. His other arm, looped over her, drew her closer before his hand slipped under her shirt and cupped her left breast gently inside her spare lacework bra. Like the hand above her pelvis, he just kept it there, his palm curled around her breast. Instantly, her nipples stood to attention under his calloused skin.

Amanda really liked the sensation. Being touched like this. Liked it a lot. Especially when he started softly rubbing his fingertips across the soft swell of her breast.

She half spun her head on the cushion they shared and looked at him. His eyes were already closed as he continued his soft motions, his expression already easing off. He was breathing steadily with each stroke. The sight reminded her of Judith playing with her hair as she fell asleep. Rick’s jaw lost the tension, too, the deep lines etched on his skin with his habitual frowns and scowls disappearing a bit. With a small, subsided sigh, Amanda turned as she felt his semi-hardness poking at her back.

She didn’t react, just ignored it, careful not to wriggle to make it worse for him. Rick still stayed in the same state. She wanted to comfort him, not give him another set of blue balls. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to sleep. They both needed sleep. Her hand crawled over her waistline, and Amanda lay it over his that was still tucked inside her unbuttoned pants as his other hand kept massaging her breast gently.

Rick murmured something drowsily. “Cinnamon…” Amanda heard the second time. “You smell cinnamon.”

She smiled. “Like it?”

“Hmmm—” Rick drew her closer, against his hardness, his hand cupping her breast a bit tighter. “Pancakes…” he muttered the next second over her neck, “make it with cinnamon.”

She let out a low giggle. “With cinnamon. Honey?” she asked further.

“Hmm mm—” Rick murmured in answer.

A few minutes later, Amanda heard deep, heavy steady breaths as Rick fell asleep.

Amanda closed her eyes again and followed him.

Notes:

Just a quick note, Clarice is based on Carla from Elité, Netflix's Spanish TV Show. I like this girl, even though Clarice's character is different, I used Carla's mannerism and visuals to build Clarice. Google her if you would like. I think she's also becoming one of those characters that wedges herself into the story, much like how Amanda did at Adaptation, getting tangled with Carl. I quite have started enjoyed writing her, and that means expect more! There's gonna be a lot of teenage drama around! Poor Amanda, poor Rick. :D The teenagers are certainly not going to help while they try to figure out things with their relationship.

Until the next time.

Chapter 5: 'I lied'

Summary:

When Amanda is asked to accompany Aiden Monroe's team outside to take down the signs, Rick faces with another challenge.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When Amanda opened her eyes again, Rick’s hands were still at the same places. She drowsily blinked at the sunlight that seeped from the window from their left side, suppressing a yawn, bringing up her hand on his to cover her mouth. The hand inside her open zipper had inched down further during sleep that made Rick almost cup between her legs fully.

His hand over her breast was motionless while he slept, breathing with deep, steady breaths. Amanda lowered her hand, stopping her wriggling, her body aching. Their legs and feet were tangled together even worse as Rick had half draped over her in their sleep while still lying on his side. Despite the weight, their tangled state was oddly…satisfying. She wondered how much time had passed. It was around noon when they’d returned from Deanna, perhaps a bit later, but since she still saw daylight, Amanda surmised a few hours had passed.

Well, she’d hoped they could at least sleep until nightfall, but it was better than nothing. Feeling her waking up, Rick started stirring. Removing his hand in her pants up away over her stomach, Amanda rolled in his embrace to face him. Her muscles still ached, but suppressing a wince, she smiled at him instead as Rick opened his eyes.

“Hey—” he smiled back at her, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“Hey.” Amanda murmured as he realized where his hands were and started slowly stroking her again. She smiled further and inched closer to him. “Feel better?” she asked.

He tilted his head down and found her lips. “Definitely better—” he muttered lowly before he kissed her. His hands sliding over her circled around her waist and dragged her up on top of him as he turned himself onto his back.

Amanda lay on his chest as they slowly kissed, her body aching more with the sudden, swift move.

But it was just muscle pain, not like that pain in the woods at the end of each of her nerves, just the sore muscles that had stayed long inactive in stillness. Drowsily, as they kissed lazily, Amanda wondered really how long they slept. Her body…her body felt like she’d slept more than a few hours—

When their kiss became heated, her muscles started protesting worse. Rick’s hand moved to the nape of her neck, deepening the kiss. She pulled an inch away from him, her face strained, and let out a moan, rolling her shoulders. “God—how long have we been sleeping?”

Moving under her, Rick shrugged and winced. “I dunno. My muscles are all stiff, too.” He moved his arm up across her waist. Amanda eyed his wrist. “It stopped—” he slowly remarked, then winced a bit further. “Don’t feel my arm properly.”

“Yeah—” Amanda raised her hand and rubbed her neck as she bowed her head. “Your hands rather liked where they were.”

“They found good places—” Amanda felt his hand joining hers on her neck as he murmured, starting massaging her sore muscles.

She moaned lowly, her eyes closing. Under her, the hardness poking against her groin became more evident even though Rick ignored it. Amanda waited for him to make a move, but he was still lying under her, not…moving. He was keeping his promise. A part of her almost wanted him not to, wanted him to flip them and started to have his wicked way with her again. The other part just wanted them to stay like this forever.

Her moans grew a bit louder as his fingers found a kinked muscle and pressed on it. “Ah—”

“Good?” Rick asked roughly.

She bobbed her head absentmindedly. “Yeah…” His hands… She wanted his hands back where they had been. His fingers made circular movements over the nape of her neck as her breath hitched and her soft moans became soft groans.

Perhaps she’d been wrong. Perhaps Rick was making a move. She raised her head as he dipped his chin… In his eyes there was that playful glint with mirth.

Their lips got closer but before they found each other a soft knock on the door interrupted them. “Rick—” Amanda heard Daryl’s distinctive rough drawl. “You up?” 

Their heads whipping sideways at the sound, they both scowled at the same time. Amanda wondered what happened again, because the only possibility that Daryl would come to look for them must be another disaster, which was, admittedly, a common occurrence. But the man’s drawl was subdued. And there were no panicked screams of Rick's name in the air that usually followed such an occasion.

No. There was no danger. Daryl wouldn’t have been this calm if something really happened. And that meant—holy shit!

She rolled herself over, off Rick to the floor, dropping in a crouch, and got to her feet quickly. Her strained, sore muscles protested again, but Amanda ignored the pain and jogged towards the window. She tossed aside the drapes and checked the sun’s position.

“Oh—” Oh, fuck, Amanda thought inwardly, as behind her, she heard Rick getting up from the couch. He came to her side a few seconds later and looked outside, too. His neck craned up and found the sun.

“W—we slept all day?” he asked with astonishment, disbelief tinting his tone. Amanda shared the sentiment once more.

She couldn’t fucking believe it. They—they’d slept a whole day!

When they all were huddled in the living room, she’d slept with Rick a whole day and night in this room! Her mind started turning. Beth, Judith—Carl—

Carl!

Oh, Carl. Her breath started hitching as a tremor passed over her, her eyes still staring ahead. She’d just showed him something—taught him how to change Judith’s diaper. This was going to square them again back to the beginning. “Hey—” Catching her upper arms, Rick turned her towards himself as if he’d read her mind. “Amanda—we just slept.”

She swallowed. A whole day. “Carl. I just showed him how to change Judith’s diaper—” she murmured.

Rick gave her a suspicious look. “Yeah…?”

She shrugged his hands off her. “And this happened!” she bit off. “You saw how he was in the morning yesterday when he saw us together.”

Rick looked like he was suppressing a sigh. “He didn’t see us together this time,” he pointed out and repeated. “He needs to accept it.” He paused, slanting her another look. “You need to accept it.”

Not liking where the talk was turning, Amanda buttoned up her pants, tucked her shirt back in properly, and went to open the door. “Hey—” Daryl greeted them as Rick stood behind her at the threshold.

Daryl eyed them quickly, but didn’t make any comment. Amanda felt grateful it was him, no one else, and that they at least didn’t have the morning sex look. Though with their tousled hair, wrinkled clothes, and bare feet, they had all the other necessary bits.

“Aiden Monroe came—” Daryl stated without ceremony after that, and behind her, Amanda felt Rick going rigid. “Deanna wants his team to pull down those signs you mentioned yesterday.”

Amanda arched an eyebrow, surprised. She twisted aside to Rick and saw him wearing the same expression as well. Well, that was unexpected. Beneath the surprise, Rick also looked…pleased. He nodded. “Good. They’re listening.” He bent down and picked up his duty belt that Amanda had left beside the door yesterday. He started buckling it on himself, but Daryl shook his head.

“Nah, man, not you—” His hands stopping, Rick lifted his head and stared at Daryl. “Monroe—uh—he wants Amanda,” the tracker drawled out roughly, pointing with his head at her.

“What?” Rick all but hissed.

“He said he wants her to accompany them out.”

Amanda wanted to mimic Rick’s question, but before she could do anything, Rick let out an angry hiss. He buckled his duty belt forcefully and stepped out in the corridor.

Her expression stiffening, Amanda stepped out of the room, too.

What the fuck was that?

She followed Rick as Daryl followed her. She understood his…rattled jealousy, but Aiden had asked for her.

They walked in the living room almost at the same time as Aiden directly spoke to her. Well, at least finally someone remembered her.

“Morning—” the older of the Monroe brothers tipped his head with the word. “We’re going to take those signs down,” he explained like he’d done to Daryl. “You said you can help when you’re available.” His lips twitched a bit. “Are you?”

She nodded. “Yeah—” she started, but Rick cut her off.

“No. She stays. I'll come with you,” he rasped, and pointed a hand at himself, turning aside to walk again. “I need my gun back. We'll go to the armory first.”

Standing where he was, unmoving, Aiden shook his head. “No. Mother wants you to stay inside the walls. In fact, she awaits you at the house.”

Rick stopped in his retreat. He gave Aiden a long, measuring look, hard, stern eyes fixated at the younger man. His jaw moved as he scowled further as Aiden just stood unflinching under his scrutiny. Rick gave a curt nod a second later. “Fine. I'll go and talk to her.” He tossed a look at her before he warned. “No one goes anywhere until I come back.”

Aiden shrugged indifferently and started moving. “Be at the main gate in an hour if you want to come,” he shot at Amanda while walking out of the living room.

When he left the house, they all stood silently. Everyone was looking at them now, but not because they’d slept together a whole day inside the den how she’d dreaded a few minutes ago. The pinched expression over Rick’s face must mirror her own because Amanda felt as pissed-off as Rick looked like.

How could he dare to treat her like this!

She almost told him to go fuck himself, but remembering their audience, she settled with marching out towards the kitchen. Behind her, she heard the sturdy clicks of boot heels as Rick did the same.

A few seconds later, the outside door opened and closed with a loud, angry thud. Amanda didn’t turn back.

# # #

Anger was boiling in him.

All the relaxation, all the calmness he felt upon waking up was gone in a matter of blink. Why did everything have to be like this? Why she couldn’t just sit down and stay in the house. If something had to be done, Rick could do it—

He knew he didn’t make sense. He knew. It didn’t work like that, their lives didn’t work like that anymore, and it was a point that had been proved to them many times. Moreover, Amanda wasn’t like Lori. She’d already told him that, too, but the idea of her being outside without him after they just made it inside walls? No. It was making all of his nerves stand up, strained like a drawn bow.

He wondered if Deanna was playing mind games with him. The woman knew they had a thing. Even though Rick hadn’t told her anything, Amanda had. Yet, before anyone else, even before Daryl, Abraham, even himself, she became the first one to be asked to go outside.

Like hell Rick would let that happen!

Deanna was measuring him, testing him for his reaction. Even testing perhaps to see the boundaries of their relationship. Rick was sure Amanda’s admission was as vague as possible. Curse him to hell if Rick let her toy with Amanda like this. She was his to protect, his job—his duty… Rick would never let them treat the woman he loved like a pawn in a power play.

Arriving at the white house, Rick rang the bell.

Deanna’s husband opened the door. “Good morning, Deputy—” the old man greeted him. “Deanna was waiting for you.”

Yeah, Rick bet she was.

Rick gave the man a curt nod and walked in. Deanna was seated at the dining table going over her plans. She was wearing elegant horn rimmed glasses as she studied them. Noticing his arrival, she pulled the glasses down and let them hang over her chest on their chain around her neck. “Hello, Rick. I was looking at the plans—” she started. “About the lawns and flower beds—”

Rick cut her off. “Amanda’s going nowhere. I'll go with Aiden.”

Eyeing him carefully, the old woman stayed silent for a while, twisting in her seat fully to face him. Then she shook her head. “No. You can’t go out.”

Rick arched an eyebrow. “You wanted us to take down signs, and I agreed,” she remarked. “I gave an order to Aiden, he rounded up a team, and they’re going to proceed,” she went on as Rick’s expression closed off completely. “You don’t have any place in that.”

His squared jaw throbbed. “I need to be out there—”

“Not every time, not for every single thing—” Deanna retorted. “I wanted you, Rick, because I wanted a right-hand to rule with me. Leaders cannot do legwork.” He drew in a sharp breath as the word slipped inside him. Legwork.

She wanted the woman he loved to endanger her life for them, and she called it legwork.

“Y-you send the woman I…care about out there—” Rick pointed outside as he spat with venom, “and you call it legwork?”

Deanna faced his anger serenely. “I send my son out there, and I call it legwork,” she reminded him, her voice still serene and calm, but also carrying a different kind of heat, a different kind of power.

“Have you ever seen a general running around to do chores?” she asked, and her expression shifting again, she gave him that smile. “No. They stand behind the lines, lead their people. They stand beside them only when it’s necessary to stand at the front. Give them strength, give them hope. Those times might come, but this isn’t one of them now.”

The woman smiled at him again. “Besides, there’s so many things to do. Your list—” she said. “I was expecting you make reconnaissance with your team, inspect the grounds outside, make your rounds, start the shifts—”

Rick knew when he was being settled down. He gave the woman a hard look. “Yes. I was planning on that—” Knowing the grounds, finding escape routes, safe houses, and making caches were going to be his first tasks, but he wasn’t planning to go on short a team member. “I need a team with me,” he stated, changing his game tactic. “I can’t do all the legwork by myself.” He smirked. “I need Amanda, too.”

Deanna gave him another gentle smile. “You all already work together. We need to start mixing up the teams to get over the foreignness.”

His smirk vanished as his lips thinned. “Fine. Aiden takes Daryl or Abraham—”

Deanna cut him off. “Aiden wanted Amanda.” His jaw squared so hard, it hurt. “They already had a good rapport when she came yesterday for her interview. Shared tea together—” As his eyes narrowed, Rick really wondered if the woman was playing with Amanda, to really test for his reaction.

For a second or so, Rick didn’t want to disappoint her. He almost told the old woman her son had flirted with his girlfriend, offered her something harder, but stopped the words before they left his mouth. Instead, he scowled harder, felt his jaw almost break.

“Aiden isn’t a good team player, I’m afraid,” Deanna continued with a sigh when he didn’t react further. “I can’t put Sergeant Ford and him on the same team. Not yet. And as for Daryl—” the woman explained. “I haven’t figured him out yet, either.” She let out another sigh, shaking her head. “I have to think of my own people too. It’s as hard for them as it is for you. Amanda and Aiden seem like they’re getting along.”

Glaring at her again, Rick stayed silent. “Rick—” Deanna Monroe went on, “I know you care about her...in a different way,” the woman then stated as he glared even harder. “But she’s also a capable police officer. She can stay in and train people, but I’ll also need her going outside.” She paused, and her eyes found his before she asked openly. “It’s not going to be a problem for you, is it?

 As he looked back at the woman, Rick realized he didn’t have a direct, simple answer for that question. So he lied. “No. It won’t.”

# # #

After Rick left, Amanda started packing. There was little she could, so after she’d packed food and water from the supplies, she went to the armory. A curvy brunette woman, who introduced herself as Olivia, was already expecting her arrival. The woman handed her gun back to her without a fuss. Tucking it in her holster, feeling the relaxing familiar weight on her upper thigh, Amanda trotted back to the house.

Outside, Beatrice Reese was jogging on the track, but she kept her eyes ahead. This was her job. She had to earn her keep, like she had since her childhood. She was asked, so she was going. What else would she do anyways? Jog in the morning, take a shower, prepare breakfast…

Pancakes…cinnamon, oatmeal, Judith, they all came to her at once, but Amanda forced the thoughts away. She prowled, scavenged, and killed rotters—that was what she did. What Amanda Shepherd always had been. The go-to officer you asked when you wanted things to get done. She let out a silent snicker, recalling once more how even Gorman had wanted her back in the end. Amanda was just business. Like always.

The first one who got sent outside.

She wasn’t bitter. No. It was just what she was.

Amanda opened the door, and walking in, she headed to the kitchen. She better eat something before they left. Inside the kitchen, Beth was together with Carl, with Carl holding Judith. Amanda gave them a look. “Didn’t you go to school this morning?” she asked with a frown.

Beth shook her head violently. “I don’t want to go to school!” she protested heatedly again, and Amanda felt tired…so tired. Weren’t things supposed to be better when they got inside and found a place for themselves?

Well, three days, and Amanda was still waiting. “Beth—”

Beth cut her off. “I want to come with you on the run!”

Setting the bowl down, Amanda poured some cornflakes in before she shook her head. “No. Go to the school now.”

“I said I am not going.”

“Beth—” she warned, finding a spoon to start eating the dry mix. There was no milk, and she didn’t really like cold water with powdered milk. “Please. This isn’t a good time. Just go to the school.”

But Beth was in open defiance. “You can’t tell me what to do—” She almost sneered the words.

With a deep breath, Amanda let the words wash over her. “I don’t know those people,” she started explaining in a clipped voice, instead of yelling at her to go to the school just how she wanted. “I don’t know how they operate, how they work. We can’t go together. You sit out this one, and I'll take you on the next one,” she bargained.

As time passed, it became quite obvious that Beth’s time had come. A part of her rioted against the idea despite herself, despite everything, wanting to protect her just like she’d promised Maggie, but she couldn’t do that. Beth had to be allowed out, for her own damn sake. Amanda knew it. They had to learn how to fly out of the nest; it was her own dawn words! Amanda just wouldn’t have guessed it would be this hard.

But finally seeing her reason, the teenager nodded. “You promise?” she asked, but winced after the words left her mouth.

Amanda didn’t react…trying not to remember how she’d asked those words last…how Maggie wouldn’t have held her own promise. Instead, Amanda nodded. “I promise.”

Beth walked out without another word then. Amanda released a sigh. Carl was eyeing her with a look that reminded her of Rick. “Can I come, too?” he asked suddenly.

Amanda turned to him, stupefied. Taking him out too? Being responsible for him that way? Rick’s son? The idea passed a tremor through her. No. She couldn’t do that. She was hardly dealing with Beth.

Carl saw her expression as she looked at him and read it. “I’m sorry—” she said truthfully. “I can’t do it.”

Carl’s eyes grew heated as much as Beth’s. “Because you’re with Dad, right?”

The only answer she could give for that was a yes, but Amanda didn’t want to do it. So she kept her silence, looking at the teenager. Carl turned and walked out much like Beth’s fashion.

It looked like she’d managed to disappoint two teenagers in a record time. She heaved a deep sigh and started eating the cereal, her hip propped against the kitchen island. Just as she finished, she heard the outside door opening, and a few minutes later, Rick appeared in the doorway.

He was in the denim shirt. Amanda clued in that he’d taken off his jacket, so he wasn’t leaving now. They shared a look before she set down the finished bowl on the island’s countertop. “I’m going—” she stated with a firm voice, and added, as a warning, “and I’m not in the mood for fighting.”

“Me either,” Rick retorted and pointed outside the corridor with his head. “Let’s go to the den.” She narrowed her eyes. “There’s still time before the hour is finished,” he clipped.

After that, Amanda walked around the island, and they went back to the den. This time there was no lovey-dovey stuff. They didn’t kiss, and they didn’t sleep in each other’s arms. Rick eyed her holster as he sat down on the couch. “Got it back?”

“Yeah—” Amanda sat beside him, nodding halfway. “What did you talk about with Deanna?”

Rick grimaced. “Basically, she told me I can’t do legwork.”

Amanda let out a snicker. “Yeah. You’re much too valuable for that.”

Rick gave her a look. “She told me she’s also sending her son.”

Shutting up, Amanda realized Rick had that fight with Deanna, too. She didn’t know what to feel. When he’d acted like that this morning, she’d become pissed, like she didn’t have a say in it, but the notion of him not wanting her to risk her life doing…legwork, it—it made her breathe easier, too.

She didn’t know what that meant. She didn’t know anything anymore! Not a damn thing!

“Do you want to go?” Rick asked, twisting aside to look at her.

She almost made a sound— “I—” she said, stopped, and shrugged. “It’s my job.”

Rick gave her a half nod, bowing his head. Leaning forward, he braced his elbows on his upper knees, and started playing with his hands. “She asked me if you’re being out there with other people would be a problem for me—” he spoke lowly, his eyes fixated on the floor. “I lied. I said no.” He paused a second as Amanda drew in a breath. “I don’t like it.”

“I—I understand—” Twisting aside, Rick lifted his head up at her. “But it’s still my job.” She eased off a small shrug. “Gotta earn my keep.”

“Amanda, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to—” he told her again, his voice having another heat, but earnest as much as his gaze. Reading what he left unspoken, she swallowed a lump through her throat, but shook her head.

“I—I don’t know, Rick—” she told him truthfully. “I need time.”

She hoped he would understand. She needed time, for what she wasn’t even sure anymore, but she needed to figure it out. The inclinations of his words were clear, but Amanda wasn’t sure how she felt about that, either. She’d always taken care of herself, earned her keep; it was her life in a nutshell since her childhood. If you were useful in homes, you had a better chance for stability.

Rick drew up and looked at her as if he understood before he nodded silently. A weight on her chest lifted as Amanda let out a sigh of relief. 

Leaning back against the headrest, a sigh escaped from Rick, too. “I think she wanted to test me,” he stated, sliding a side look to her.

Then it dawned on Amanda. “Wanted to see how you would react—” she muttered, mulling over it.

Rick gave another terse nod. She shook her head, getting angry with herself. She was getting sloppy. Testing the boundaries would have been the first thing she would’ve done if she weren’t this far caught up in her own drama.

Rick tossed her another look.

“She’s been doing it since the beginning, Rick,” she told him. “Making us sit in those interviews looking like shit, taping it. Asking you if there’s someone special for you, asking me if we’re together—” she went on, giving an angry hiss before she jerked her head furiously. “I—I should’ve thought about this!”

Deanna had set her game while they were lounging in each other’s arms, babbling about pancakes!

What was worse, Amanda had wanted it.

She sighed deeply. “Uh, I guess we need to think of a way to test her boundaries also. I can poke around a bit. Push her buttons like I did with you—”

Rick’s attention snapped at her again. “What?”

“Uh—” she breathed out, darting a look over to him. “Remember me asking you what you were doing with yourself when you weren’t rescuing women in the woods?” she asked as Rick’s eyes narrowed. “I—uh—I was poking at you. You said you weren’t the leader, that you weren’t in the council, but you had keys, a lot of keys, you know. And the way you talked—screamed authority. So I got curious. Poked a little.” She shrugged her shoulders.

Rick let out a scoff.

“Hey, you were very…intriguing.”

Suddenly the heavy mood between them turned to something else, as his blue eyes darkened with another sharp glint. “Was I?” he asked, leaning towards her.

“Hmm mm—” she murmured, staring at his darkened eyes as he drew even closer to her. “You—” her words cut off as his lips silenced her.

# # #

“What are you going to do?” Amanda asked as they entered the kitchen as she checked her backpack. The thought of her being outside without him was still making his every nerve stand up, but Rick tried to soothe himself down. She’d said she needed time.

It wasn’t just for sex. Rick could see it clearly now. It seemed sex wasn’t only the thing they had to try to resolve between them.

“We’re going to make a patrol outside—” he answered. “Survey the grounds. I want to look around.”

Amanda nodded, rummaging through her backpack. “Yeah—” Her hands halted for a second, then she lifted her head. “Beth—Beth and Carl. They asked me to take them out,” she suddenly said as Rick’s scowl returned. “I declined. But they got mad at me. Again.”

There was a tiredness in her voice now, something that made him itch to take her in his arms again, lay them down on that couch. Sleep like that, his hands having a feel of her as she was pressed against his chest, cocooned in his embrace. Rick hadn’t slept like that for weeks. He wondered when he could have it again.

“Can you take them, too?” Amanda asked then, looking at him. “Maybe they’d cool down if you take them.”

His scowl turned to a full frown. “I’m not taking a tour in the park. They have to find something else to entertain themselves.”

“Rick—”

“Amanda—”

“—They still need to learn.” She completed as if he hadn’t cut her off.

With a sigh, Rick nodded. “Okay. Fine. We take them. I’ll go with Daryl. Abraham can come, too.”

Amanda bobbed her head halfway and slung the backpack over her shoulder. “Okay. Good.” She came to his side. Rick gently cupped the side of her face through her half-ponytail, wishing he could thread his fingers through her loose hair instead. “Be careful out there, ‘kay?” he asked her with a rasp, his emotions thinning his voice.

She nodded again, her eyes stuck on his. “Go now—” he murmured at her. “Before I lock you in a room and throw away the keys.”

She smiled, and rising on her toes, gave him a peck on the lips. “I’ll be back.”

“You better be—” he warned.

As she left, Rick let out a deep sigh, telling himself again nothing was going to happen to her. Tonight, she was going to be back in his arms. Staring at the door after her for a few seconds in the corridor, Rick turned and went to the living room. He quickly surveyed the room, wondering again if it was time to move upstairs—but he had another job first.

His eyes wandered but couldn’t spot Daryl. It was understandable, as Daryl never liked closed spaces, and had been on watch as much as Rick had. Rick made a mental note to send him to sleep too after they settled this. Walking outside, he crossed the porch and went around the back deck.

--and halted in his steps seeing Joan and Daryl sitting on the steps across from each other, checking over Daryl’s bolts in silence. They weren’t talking, their heads bowed as they worked in silence, but Rick still felt as of he walked in on them—in a moment.

 He cleared his throat a bit as they lifted their heads and looked at him. “Hey, man—” Daryl greeted him, putting a bolt down against his hip. Joan kept her bead bowed, disinterested, and ran her fingers along the bolt’s feathers she was holding.

Rick gave her another look. “I thought Deanna wanted you in the sick bay—” he stated, walking closer towards them.

The curly dark haired woman shrugged. “Yeah, but she didn’t give a timeline,” she replied. “I don’t feel like returning to the antiseptic smell yet.” She raised her head—towards Daryl who had returned to his job after Rick's arrival and showed him the bolt in her hands. “I think this one has a split,” she said as Daryl looked at her. “Check it.” She handed him the bolt.

Daryl took it, turning back to him. “What is it?” he questioned.

“I want to make a perimeter check outside. Look around. Inspect the grounds. Coming?”

Daryl rolled his head in a half nod. “Yeah—was getting bored—” He stood up, bowing his head, and his gaze found Joan. “Uh—” Before he could continue, Joan got to her feet.

“I’m coming, too.”

They both gave another half nod. They padded back to the front porch. “Do you know where Beth and Carl are?” he asked. “I’m taking them, too. They both made a fuss at Amanda before she left.”

Joan nodded. “I saw them walking towards the center—” she answered.

“I'll go get them—” Rick said, “You gather Abraham? He might look around. And ask Glenn, too.”

Glenn was still looking better than most of the days before Alexandria, but sitting idly didn’t do wonders when you were depressed. Daryl nodded. “See ya at the gate—” he said before they parted ways.

He walked to the pond, wondering if Amanda had already left the gate. His feet almost turned to go to check it out. Rick stopped himself at the last moment. He’d already acted like a jealous, overprotective boyfriend as it was. If he showed up now at the gate, Amanda might kick his ass.

He found the youngsters in a gazebo at the back of the community center, sitting with some new friends. Both Carl and Beth looked a bit distraught at seeing him walking towards them, and Rick narrowed his eyes.

“Hey—you didn’t go to school?” he asked, looking at the teenagers. Clarice was still wearing her uniform like the last time Rick had seen her. Carl shook his head as Beth shrugged. “No. Not yet.”

“I don’t want to—” Beth said, as Rick’s gaze caught something on the ground inside the gazebo. Stubbed out cigarette butts.

His head snapped toward Carl, who had followed his look. “Carl—”

“It’s not ours, Deputy Grimes,” Clarice spoke quickly. “We don’t smoke.”

Rick eyed them carefully and decided to have a talk with Beatrice. After years of dealing with perps and dealers, Rick knew when he was being lied to. He turned to Carl, deciding to have a talk later, too. “We're going outside with Daryl. Wanna come?” he asked them.

“You're going outside?” Ron asked, taking a step closer. “Can you take us out, too?”

Rick let out a subdued sigh. “I can’t do it without your parents'—” He slanted a look at Clarice as she opened her mouth, “—or your sister’s approval.”

Ron’s shoulder sagged. “Dad won’t let me—”

Clarice shrugged. “Beatrice might…cry if I ask.”

Rick knew they shouldn’t do it, but they all shared a little laugh at that. “Um—” Rick told them then, “Amanda—Officer Shepherd will start a class soon. You might join it if you want.” He turned to Carl and Beth. “You coming?”

They nodded and started walking around the pond towards the armory. They took their guns back and started towards the gate. They heard the clamor even before they made it to the guard outpost. Beside the gate, Spencer Monroe was on gate duty. The man was walking backwards towards the platform’s thick beams as Joan stalked the younger Monroe angrily. They were circled by Daryl, Glenn, and Abraham.

Rick quickened his steps as Beth and Carl did the same. Daryl was holding Joan’s elbow to pull her back as she spat at Spencer. “What do you mean I can’t leave?”

Spencer Monroe looked at the fuming woman, intimidated. “Uh—your name came up this morning. You made it onto the list—” he explained as Rick arrived at the scene. “Mother doesn’t want you to leave.”

“What list?” Daryl roughed out, pulling Joan to his side.

Rick understood. With a scoff, he shook his head. “Her priority list—” he said, recalling Aaron's words. Deanna—the old politician wolf didn’t waste any time. “You’ve made it onto her first priority list, Joan,” he told the nurse.

“I did what?” Joan snapped her head at him.

“You’ve got medical training—” Rick explained it how Aaron had explained it to him. “It makes you much too valuable an asset to risk outside.”

Not like Amanda—the thought passed in his mind as his insides uproared with the idea again, but Deanna was risking her own son as well, which made her at least genuine in her words. Not less devious, though.

“She’s got a priority list,” Rick continued, slanting a look at the younger Monroe. “People with a profession like medical or engineering or architecture is her top priority. As are single parents with children—” he added remembering Aaron's other words. “As she doesn’t want to risk children being orphans.”

Carl gave him a look. “You’re a single parent, too, dad—” he pointed.

“Well, I guess I’m an exception,” Rick sneered.

He’d meant his words as a jab, but Spencer Monroe’s eyes held no humor as he turned to Rick. “Yes. Mother gave you a special clearance.” He turned to Joan. “Ms. Summers, please—”

“You can’t keep her inside—”

“It’s for her own good—” Spencer retorted, “And I can’t decide on that. It’s Mother’s decision.”

“I’m gonna talk to her—” Rick said, but not now. “Later,” he added. Daryl shot him a heavy glare. “We need to go now. I’ll talk to her when we return. Joan?” he turned to the nurse.

“Fine—” Joan bit off, storming off away from the gate. Daryl stared at her back.

“Daryl—” Rick prompted. There was something going on between them. If Rick couldn’t be sure of it before, after the look he saw Daryl give the dark curly haired woman’s back, now he was. There was anger on her behalf in the hunter’s clear blue eyes and worry. For a second, Rick thought he would follow Joan, but the next second, Daryl turned aside towards him. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

Rick frowned a bit, but let it go.

They walked out and quickly crossed the driveway that led the main entrance. It was the first time Rick saw Alexandria’s whereabouts in daylight. The streets to the west seemed deserted, a few lone walkers roaming listlessly. There were a few cars parked on the streets. Rick surmised they had been out of gas as they were left alone, but they could be used to block the main gate. They could dig a line of trenches as well and close the street’s entrance with a gate. They could pile the vehicles, managing a road block at the intersection that led to the highway. If they could cut it off, they could give better attention to the woods, as anyone would need to come from there with the roads blocked, making them continue on foot.

The woods were far more dangerous.

Wolves Not Far.

They were never.

As soon as they took cover under the trees, Rick felt a familiar feeling returning to him—the faint sounds the branches made as they waved with the wind, the crunches the fallen leaves gave as they crumbled under their heels, the fallen branches creaking. The smell, too.  The air was familiar, too, less heavy than Alexandria. In the distance, if he listened, Rick could even hear a distant water sound—which would be a blessing if they were in the woods.

Something clicked in him in a way that felt wrong—and Rick almost thought he came back…home.

No, he forced the thought—the notion off his mind. The woods weren’t their home. They belonged to Alexandria now. It was going to be their home.

They had taken a map so they could circle a grid. Daryl had already started moving around, his mood more foul than ever. Rick let the man be.

Besides, making a tour, checking the lay of the land wasn’t the only reason why Rick had come out. No. He didn’t know when he would need it, but after this morning—after his talk with Deanna, Rick had become sure of it.

He needed a gun. He couldn’t leave things to…luck or Deanna’s good conscience or her good intentions.

If it came down to that, Rick was going to need a gun. He hoped it wouldn’t, but Alexandria was going to be their home. One way or another, he’d promised himself, lifting his head to check around the woods.

They didn’t belong to this wilderness.

He made a wave at Daryl. “I’m checking that side—” He pointed to the west, approaching Daryl. “We meet here when the sun shadow five at two. Buried a gun in a cabin around here before we came. I’m gonna retrieve it—” he explained.

Daryl sent him a quick look and nodded. “’kay.”

Rick nodded in return, gestured at Carl. “Carl. You’re with me.” Rick gave another look at Daryl, his eyes glancing at Beth. “Be careful of Beth,” he whispered. “She ain’t…well.”

Daryl rolled his head again. “Got it.”

Rick and Carl moved towards the west as Daryl took the others east. While they ranged in the woods, Rick thought they were ready for another talk. “Carl, before I came,” Rick started, slanting a look at his boy who trudged beside him through the roots and ditches, “Were you smoking there?”

His answer didn’t hesitate. “No, dad.”

“Carl—” Rick called out, putting an emphasis in his name.

“What if I did?” his son snapped, twisting to stare at him. “It’s the end of the world, dad! What if I smoked a damn cigarette?”

Swallowing down the irritation the swear word provoked, Rick held onto his resolve. “Carl, I’m trying to have a talk here with you…civilly,” he clipped, trying very hard to keep his tone…civil.

Carl bowed his head. “Sorry, dad.”

“It’s okay—” Rick told his son. “But I don’t want you to do it again.”

Carl shrugged. “I just wanted to…try.”

“I know—” Rick replied. “I—I tried once around your age. Got curious.”

Surprised, Carl looked up at him. Rick was surprised, too, telling that memory to his son… “Yeah…” he muttered. “It was a dare. Sh—Shane got us into it.”

There was a brief pause in the air after that, but Carl didn’t react. Perhaps one day they should sit down and talk about that, too. One day. When they were ready. Rick—Rick was still trying. “I hated it,” Rick continued, sharing with his son. It felt nice.

“I hated it, too—” Carl replied, admitting.

Rick let out a snicker. “Glad to hear it.”

“You smoked, too—” his teenage boy suddenly announced, and Rick almost trapped over a root. “I saw you smoke in the cabin with Amanda—and outside in the church—”

“Yeah—” Rick admitted too. “I did.” The cigarettes she’d dealt for him were still waiting though, untouched, much like the condoms she’d saved for them. Untouched. But Rick didn’t want to think about them. He didn’t even know if she still had them or just got rid of them to create herself an escape route to refuse him…

Not that the lack of condoms had stopped them before—even before he could complete the thought, the images assaulted him—the way they had sex under the tree that day without any barriers that divided them. Their only other time in the bathroom was great, too, but having her naked, feeling her fluttering around him in her heated depths, nothing between them. No. That was something altogether different.

He wondered if they would ever reach to that point again—that she would ever let him touch her without condoms—

Rick stopped the thoughts. He didn’t need to think of that now. They were going to wait. Take their time. Even today, Amanda had confessed again she needed time. Even excluding the pregnancy scares, unprotected sex, being that open to each other... No. They weren’t ready for that yet.

“Are you gonna tell Amanda—” Carl questioned him suddenly. Rick gave another look at his son. “Beth smoked, too. I wasn’t the only one.” Carl paused. “In fact, she was the first one.”

Rick sighed.

“Dad—” Carl called out to him, half stopping him. Rick halted his steps, too. “Don’t tell Amanda, please. They always fight now.”

“I know—” Rick replied, holding back another sigh. “I’ll talk to her.” Someone had to. Rick had no idea how that talk would go, but they had no options. Perhaps Glenn would deal with it better, but for now, it fell to Rick. “They fought today again?” he questioned, skipping another look over at his son.

“Yeah,” Carl asserted and retold, “Beth wanted to go with her. She didn’t let her. Said she didn’t know how they worked, so she couldn’t take Beth with her.” A strain entered into his voice as his boy paused. “Said she could come later.” He paused, his brows clenching under his sheriff hat in a way that reminded Rick himself. “I asked her if I could come, she declined—” Carl rasped. “She said she couldn’t.”

Ah. “Carl—”

He cut off Rick, “Because you’re together,” he finished.

Rick understood, but he knew Carl didn’t. He knew his son was angry, barely keeping his temper in check, keeping it…civil. “You got together, and I’m the one who got punished because of it!” Carl reprimanded, his tone low, but the anger he sensed seeping in it.

“Carl—” Rick stopped walking completely. “No one’s punishing you. You have to understand Amanda—”

“Yeah, I always have to understand, don’t I?” he shot back, his tone still in that low hiss, “Even though I don’t like it, I have to accept—” he went on angrily. “Soon she’s gonna start training everyone in the town, but not me, because you fuc—”

“Carl!” Rick’s voice raised, forgetting keeping it civil… If he ever heard that thing again from Carl’s mouth after that disastrous night—

A strained silence befell on them as father and son glared at each other. Bowing his head, Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. “First, she still can train you inside if you want—” Rick started. “But for outside—” Rick paused. He understood her staying abstained, her fear that something would happen to Carl on her watch. Rick didn’t want to put more pressure on her with that kind of responsibility. He just wanted her to…be happy.

“If—if you want, I can take you—or Daryl—” Rick continued, trying to find a common ground.

“Can Daryl?” Carl asked, and Rick frowned.

“Don’t you want me?”

“You’re always too busy—” he said with a shrug. “You can’t find time.”

His words from the cabin, how Rick could never find time for him hit again, and Rick closed the gap between them with quick steps. He placed his hand over his son’s shoulder. “Carl, I can always find time for you.”

Carl gave another shrug, turning aside to start walking again. Rick followed. Soon, Rick found the cabin and started digging for the duffel bag he’d buried under the tree

“What are you looking for?” Carl asked.

“I buried guns here before we went inside—” Rick answered truthfully. “Came to retrieve it.”

“They said carrying arms inside the walls was against the rules.”

“Yeah—” Rick replied, digging.

“Can I have one, too?”

Rick shook his head. Carl’s expression soured. “I’ve only got one. The others are out of bullets. You know we’re short on ammo,” he explained.

He finished a few minutes later, just before a lone wandering walker found them. Rick got to his feet, but before he could go and put it down, Carl walked to it and did it instead.

His jaw squared as Carl looked at him in challenge, but this time Rick kept his mouth shut. He checked the magazine, eyeing the bullets and reloaded. He twisted his arm back and tucked the gun inside his waistline under his shirt and jacket.

“Come on—” Rick motioned his son. “Let’s go.”

Notes:

All right, things have started escalating more for Rick, as his protectiveness after the Claimers became even worse. My beta raised a very good points for him behaving like an asshole, I even editted some parts of this chapter, keeping Rick more on the line, but alas this story is named 'On The Edge' for a reason too.

He's gonna walk on a very sharp line before he pulls himself back together like in the canon, especially in relationship stuff, because after what happened with the Claimers, I also believe that kind of violence must have an impact on his whole life. Especially emotional and sexual life. It's hard to comparmentalize yourself like that, being sweet and kind, and then turning to a savage beast without lines blurring between. In the canon, he settled down with Michonne after Carl's shooting before Negan, but his journey is gonna be much more complicated here.

Amanda also thinks she's accepted all of him; the good, the bad, and the ugly, so she's gonna be tested on that, too.

If you have opinions, like always, I'd be glad to hear them.
Until the next chapter!

Chapter 6: 'She had come'

Summary:

When Amanda returns from the run, the group decides to spread to the bedrooms.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When she stepped in the living empty room, Amanda realized she’d come back before Rick and the others returned from their venturing. Suppressing a sigh, she dropped the backpack in the corner where they’d left their bed rolls and the quilt between the couch and the new mini rocking crib with wheelers Rick had found for Judith in the daycare.

The mission—well, it’d gone better than she expected, she guessed. Aiden and his team: Nicholas, a man around their age everyone called by his surname - Richards, and Jeffrey. Nicholas and Aiden had an easy-going friendship that Aiden explained was because they’d been together almost since the beginning of the outbreak. Richards and Jeffrey, Aiden only mentioned they were their newest team members. His brows were clenched while the dark-haired man said the words, so Amanda didn’t ask, but understood. The men were the newest additions because they’d lost people.

Things were a bit awkward at first, like Aiden had claimed, a bit too much testosterone, but in the end, they hadn’t met any hostiles, put down a few rotters, and pulled down those ridiculously enormous signs at the roadside. Not bad for a single day. Perhaps it was just her and the tension she’d had before she left, but the men just seemed…too jovial for the job. They even tried to make a bet if Nicholas would make a headshot before Aiden put down the rotter that was coming at him.

“This is not a game,” Amanda had told Aiden, and for a moment or so, the air between them stretched out as the former ROTC cadet’s expression shifted, then a smirk curved his lips upward. He tipped his head at her, semi flirtatiously, and murmured a “yes, ma’am.”    

Amanda let it go. She didn’t know how to describe it, but Aiden Monroe’s boyish charm in a way was…she didn’t know...relaxing? She wasn’t looking attention or anything from the man, or from anyone else, but everything with Rick was overwhelming, was too much. In times like this, Amanda really missed things being simple.

Even when she only planned to sleep a few hours, they had just drifted off and slept a whole day, knocked out! They didn’t look like they were able to do anything in the middle ground.

The tension in the air of the living room though was still palpable. Amanda wondered if something else had happened too after she left. Joan was glaring at the wall in front of her, sitting on the couch with her legs crisscrossed. In the room, there was only Carol, Sasha, and Joan now. Mika and Judith were on a blanket on the rugs, playing with the toys Rick had also brought from the daycare.

Amanda had never been that happy seeing baby toys and a mini crib. Amanda wondered if Judith had slept in the crib last night, but something was telling her the baby girl did not. Peeking inside the crib, after getting closer, she saw the blankets and quilts were unwrinkled. No. Judith had possibly slept with Carl last night.

She moved towards the kids, brushing her hand over Mika’s head briefly before she sat beside them on the rugs. Holding a stuffed orange giraffe in her tiny fist, Judith started wobbling towards her on her hands and knees over a few open books and little toys from a play kitchen on the blanket. The stuffed animal seemed like had piqued her interest, and the books, too, as her other free hand patted them lightly as she crawled further, but she totally ignored the kitchen set. Amanda wasn’t surprised. The poor thing had never seen toys like that before.

Amanda caught Judith as she curled up over her lap, her eyes flickering towards Mika, too. She wondered how the little girl was holding up. Mika definitely looked better now, especially after Carol had joined them, but she was still a ten-year-old who had witnessed a terrible, traumatic event. Mika had never really acknowledged the fact that her sister had shot herself in front of her.

Amanda let out a sigh, making a mental note to talk to Carol about it before she returned her attention to the women. “What happened?” she questioned, moving her eyes to Joan. “Why didn’t you leave with Daryl and Rick?”

She’d thought Joan would still want to learn. But her dark curly haired friend just shook her head bitterly. “Couldn’t—” she hissed.

Amanda shared a brief glance with Carol. “Deanna doesn’t want her to leave the town,” the older woman explained.

“What?” she cried out, but at same time recalled Rick’s words. She doesn’t let them out. She’s got a priority list.

Amanda almost started laughing, almost. Of course, Joan had made onto her priority list, just like Beatrice. Beatrice was the owner of this place, so she had precedence, and Joan’s medical background made her top priority.

Her bitter thoughts almost started again, but Amanda stopped them, seeing Joan’s expression. Joan was pissed. All in honesty, despite the echoing bitterness inside her, if she was in her place, Amanda would’ve been, too.

Just like she’d been pissed at Rick this morning because she was his…priority.

Her hand stopped while she was taking the stuffed animal from her lap after Judith threw it at her face. It still sounded as weird as when Rick had told her covertly, but it was also true. She was Rick’s priority. Because she was his family, too. Amanda, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.

She swallowed, giving the stuffed giraffe back to Judith. The truth was that she really didn’t need to go out to make herself useful to keep around, much like Carl or Beth didn't need to prove themselves. If she just told Rick, she didn’t want to...then Rick would it make possible, Amanda knew he would.

Was it possible to not like something but also find it…endearing, flattering at the same time? Because right now instead of getting annoyed like in the morning, Amanda felt a warmness spreading over her.

Emotions swelled in her chest further, and she barely held herself back from making a gagging sound. Her eyes scanned down on the blanket’s pattern, toys, and children books, but not seeing anything. Amanda stayed like that for a few seconds before she heard Joan’s angry mutter.

“I’m not going to stay in—” Amanda lifted her head. “I will not.”

The way Joan uttered the last word made Amanda grow…testier. “Rick and I will talk to her—” she said, giving her friend a look. “You wait for us.”

Joan nodded curtly, then left the room. She heard the door opening and knew the nurse went to the back deck. The back deck had become Joan and Daryl’s…den since the time they’d settled in the house.

The speculations were turning in her mind, too, but it still wasn’t Amanda’s business.

 Rick’s group returned a half of an hour later, and Amanda felt another weight lifted off her chest. Being outside was dangerous, all the time. Though Carl and Beth seemed more settled after being allowed to go outside.

The thought gave her a little breath of relief, too, because she couldn’t take any further drama right now. She only wished they would call it a night after dinner. It was getting late, the dusk of the upcoming evening creating a gloomy interior of the house. The shadows were lengthening, but no one tried to turn on the lights. Even with their newfound luxuries, the thought of spending an ample amount of supplies on such trivialities made them uncomfortable.

Carol with the younglings’ help fixed a quick dinner from the supplies, and they ate silently, scattered in the living room and in the kitchen. They’d only turned on a few lights, so they had a gentle, flickering light, the blinds over the windows closed. It reminded Amanda a bit of the church, candlelight flickering, happy, easy chirps of chattering buzzing inside her ear…

She turned off the memory. There was no happy chirping rattling in her ears now—only a soft, whimpering silence, only disturbed by faint murmurs and Judith’s baby noises. Rick was typically outside on the porch, leaving after dinner. Amanda suspected he wouldn’t come back inside tonight after sleeping out the full night yesterday. Maybe shifting a turn for a couple of hours with Glenn—

The outdoor opened and a few seconds later, Rick came in. He was wearing his boots still. He stood in the living room and wandered his eyes around. They lingered on the devices they’d forgotten how to feel about having since the turn: the TV set in the room, the home theater set up around it, the speakers…

“We should settle in the houses—” Rick announced finally, his eyes turning to them. “Both houses. It’s time.”

Amanda let out a subsided sigh. It was time. They couldn’t keep going on like this. “We got six separate bedrooms. We’re nineteen.” Rick continued. “We have to share.”

Then the discussion started. They sent for Joan and Daryl, as they were still outside on the back deck. Three people per room. And one person left out. Daryl was the one who came with the solution.

“There’s the garage—” he reminded them, shrugging. “I can get that. Don’t wanna sleep inside a house, anyways.”

Carol shook her head. “You don’t need to—” she said in return. “There are dens.”

“Nah, prefer outside—” Daryl countered, and they let it go, realizing the roughish man still wanted to have some kind of privacy from house sharing. Amanda almost claimed the second garage, almost.

“I take the den—” Glenn claimed the small room, slanted a look at Sasha and Bob and towards them—Rick and her. “If anyone would want to share the room together.” Tactfully, he didn’t name any couple.

“We stay together—” Abraham took it on his own. “Not going to leave Eugene with anyone else.”

That sounded like a…triad, but Amanda couldn’t really understand how their relationship worked. Eugene seemed to be…involved in some ways, but Amanda didn’t know. Not that she had to. It wasn’t her business either.

“We’d like to—” Sasha slowly declared, giving a hesitant look at them to see if anyone wanted to take the small room.

The priest spoke up. “I can. I saw the rooms, better than my office in the church.”

The mention of the place made her stomach coil, her memories returning, but Amanda tried to control her feelings. There were still covert glances at them, but no one made a sound. Amanda caught Carl’s look, too, but ignored it.

“I take Mika—” Carol was the next one. “We can have another one—” With a little bit of surprise, Amanda saw her turning to Joan. “Wanna be roommates with us?” she asked, smiling at the younger woman, holding Mika in front of her, her arms coiled around Mika’s shoulders.

That was the kind, gentle smile Amanda had seen on the woman’s face, the one that was as equally a poker face like Deanna’s. Amanda knew why Carol wanted Joan close.

Daryl.

“We’ll take one of the rooms at the other house—” Noah said, pointing to himself and the other young men they’d found at Terminus. Separating men and women, was what they were doing, Amanda understood covertly, giving each other much needed personal space.

Personal space. She glanced at Rick—who just chose the moment to glance back at her. The brief look exchange was caught by Carl then— “I’m with Beth—” Amanda announced the next second, keeping her voice clear.

She had to be with Beth.

Even the thought of sharing a room together with Rick didn’t make her insides twist like hot coils, she still wouldn’t have left Beth alone, to be with someone else. No. She had to be there for Beth. She’d promised. She had to take care for her, it was her job now.

That left Rick with Carl and Judith. Although no one said it out loud. The next they started moving out. They quickly spread to the houses after the sharing was settled, moving their personal belongings upstairs.

Riccardo, John, Noah, Gabriel all went to the other house. Abraham took the head of that house, tagging Rosita and Eugene, and taking the master bedroom, and Sasha and Bob went with them. Because the division had become quite apparent, too. Rick took the master bedroom with kids, as he was having Judith. He offered it to Carol and Joan first, but they’d refused, saying Judith needed her own bathroom more.

Amanda liked that and almost thanked Carol for her kindness.  Beth and Amanda took the next room, and it was no surprise that it was beside the master bedroom. Again, no one said a word about it. Carol, Joan, and Mika took the other one, as Glenn left his stuff in the den on the first floor.

No more getaways for them anymore.

They cleared out the living room quickly after that. Carl and Beth gathered Judith’s new stuff from daycare scattered around and tossed it in the mini crib as Amanda sorted out their mixed stuff inside the packs. Everything was mixed together, but they had so few things left out, they started moving a half an hour later. Rick brought the crib upstairs with Daryl, putting it inside the master bedroom. Rick placed it beside the bed.

Amanda gave half of a smile and passed her fingers over the padded edges. “She’s gonna sleep in her own bed, huh?” she asked, looking at the small thing, her smile inching further.

The idea made her happy. A room to sleep in, a bathroom, a bed. She had toys now, books, paints, play dough, diapers, spare clothes, even talc powder. The things babies—children needed. Even Mika had toys, meant for older children. It wasn’t enough, it never would be enough, but it was something, at least.

She raised her head and smiled at Rick. Carl was still downstairs with Beth, so she leaned a bit further towards him and touched at his right temple with her finger. “Thank you—” she murmured as her fingers brushed the end of his hair.

He didn’t say anything, only leaned forward, dipping his head. His kiss was slow and gentle, his lips like a caress over hers as they traced to the edge of her mouth tenderly. Before Rick became more involved with the kiss, his hand finding his way over the back of her neck, pulling her closer, Amanda drew away an inch and looked at him.      

“Deanna—” she announced lowly, clearing her throat. “We need to talk about her.” Rick nodded. “What she did. Joan doesn’t like it.”

Another nod followed after that as Rick’s expression turned stern, deadly serious. “I don’t like it, either.” he replied and stated after a pause, “I took the gun from outside today.”

She knew what that meant. They needed to protect themselves. They should hope for the best, but plan for the worst. It was the way of their lives now.

“Come out to the porch in an hour—” Rick told her before he left the room.

Rick knew that, too.

When she came out to the porch after a quick shower, it was already nighttime, and the town had fallen into that eerie, peaceful silence once more. Rick and Daryl were staring outside from the porch’s railings as Carol stood at the corner of the beams, watching them.

There was no one else. “This ain’t good, man—” Daryl muttered, his tone still bearing anger boiling underneath. “When shit like first priority starts—other shit follows, too—” he bristled.

 Who was disposable, and who was not. Which could be expendable for the greater good, what they could turn a blind eye to, how far.

Amanda had seen that story before. It didn’t have a happy ending, and it was clear where people like her or Daryl stood on Deanna’s totem pole.

“I buried a gun before we came—” Rick informed them quietly. “Took it today when we were out—” He glanced at Daryl, who shot a look at him. “But we need more. It’s almost out of bullets, too. We need ammo.” He paused. “We need to get into that armory. We gotta be prepared.”

“For what?” Amanda asked, turning to him, even though she already knew.

The look Rick gave her back told the same story. “We’re not losing this place,” Rick replied firmly, returning his gaze outside. “Either we find a common ground, or else we take it,” he stated straightforwardly, without mincing the words.

There was little to add after that, or little to discuss, so they all went inside again, apart from Daryl, who opted to move to the back deck once more.

Carol slipped up the staircase like a ghost even before they reached the bottom of the staircase. By the time they made it to the little hall on the second floor, Carol had disappeared into her own room on the other side. They slowly padded to the opposite direction. There was that apprehensive tension between them now straining in the silence. The short path to their rooms in the hallway felt like it was taking ages even though it was only about a dozen feet long.

Amanda stood in front of her door, next to the master bedroom, and glanced at Rick. The anxious feeling flooded her even worse as they looked at each other in silence.

“Uh—” She made a noise…and her glance turned to the door for a split second… “I haven’t slept in an actual bed for years—” she muttered.

Rick gave her a little, tired smile. “Me neither.”

She flicked her eyes at him again. “Feels weird, huh?”

Rick bobbed his head lowly. “Yeah…”

Amanda sighed. “Have a good night, Rick—” she opened the door and slipped inside before he could utter another word.

Inside, she closed the door and rested her back against it, her blood drumming inside her ears—her head buzzing—

Amanda stared at the bed—the empty bed…her eyes darted down, and she saw Beth curled up on the hardwood floor over the bedrolls.

# # #

At the foot of the bed, there was a pajama bottom. Carl was in the king size bed, nestled against his baby sister, his arm loosely over her small torso and holding her close as they slept together.

A smile broke over Rick’s lips. He closed in on the bed and looked at his children—in each other’s arms. He stayed there for a while, just watching them, listening to their breathing, a calm serenity filling him. No—he wouldn’t lose this place. He could not. His family couldn’t lose this. His mind twirled to Amanda on its own, and the craving in him was so strong, was so…powerful, he almost went outside and asked her to pass the night with them, with him again. He—he wanted her here.

He heaved out a deep breath and took the pajama bottoms Carl had left for him. Maybe one night—

I need time—

Taking a quick shower in the bathroom inside the room, Rick changed into the dark grey pajama bottoms and donned a clean basic white tee before walking to the bed in bare feet. It felt so weird, doing it after so many years of hardship, preparing for sleep in this fashion - taking a shower, brushing his teeth, wearing his pajamas, and walking to a bed, but Rick forced the thought away from him. Gently, so he wouldn’t wake the kids, he took Judith and laid her in the mini crib.

Carl moved on the bed, his arm free, and rolled over to the opposite edge. Rick sat down and leaned back, crawling under the covers, but before he could rest his head on the pillow, Judith woke up.

Rick heaved a sigh. He sat up in the bed, turning on the lamp on the bed stand as Carl rolled on his side. As a soft gentle light filled in the room, Rick swung his legs over the edge, his feet touching the hardwood. He reached out and started rocking the crib, but seeing him in the dimly lit room, Judith just made more wheezing sounds. A second later, she raised her tiny arms for him to pick her up.

Rick didn’t.

He knew they were going to have a hard time until Judith became habituated to sleep alone in her crib again, but this… No. He couldn’t even put his head on the pillow.

As soon as Rick rocked the crib instead of picking her up, her arms stayed up in the air, and the soft, sobbing wheezes turned to loud whimpering then to full cries. Carl stirred and turned to him, his chest half drawn up from the bed, resting on his elbow. “Dad--?” he asked sleepily, looking at them. “Why are you making her cry?”

Rick shot a look at his son over his shoulder. “She needs to sleep in her bed.”

“Well, she’s crying, dad—” Carl pointed out.

Without answering his obvious deduction, Rick turned to the baby girl. “Judy—baby girl—you have to sleep there—” he told the crying baby, heaving out another sigh.

“Noo—” the baby girl wheezed out her first and seeming favorite word between her cries, “Nooo—"

“Dad, she’s gonna wake up everyone!” Carl’s tone hitched. “Pick her up!”

“No!” Rick answered in the same tone. “Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep when she keeps wailing!”

Rick tossed another glance over his shoulder, his hand rocking the crib, Carl holding it as Judith cried more with her baby noos…the tension rising more and more together with the sounds…

The door cracked open in the heated moment. Their heads whipped towards it as Amanda, clad in a dark emerald silk dressing gown, slipped inside barefooted. Her eyes fell on them at the same time they stared at her—Judith still crying in the background…

Her hair was loose, brushing over her shoulders, and she looked so good, so beautiful, Rick could still only stare at her before Amanda scooted to the crib.

# # #

Seeing Beth sleeping in that fashion on the hard floor felt like a polished sharp blade slipped in her chest. Her eyes hurt as she swallowed through her tight throat. She moved away from the door and started walking to the teenage girl slowly.

She knelt beside her on the floor and put her hand over Beth’s shoulder gently. She wasn’t sleeping, Amanda knew she wasn’t, but Beth still didn’t react.

“Beth—” Amanda called out. “Honey, please.”

Beth didn’t react. Amanda laid down behind her on the hardwood parquet and held her from behind, facing the bed. If she wasn’t going to sleep on the bed, Amanda wasn’t, either. “Go to bed—” Beth said as soon as she settled herself, her hand gently laying across the teenager’s belly. “I know you still have muscle pain—” she continued. “Go sleep in the bed. I even found a chemise and dressing gown for you.”

Her neck craned up and Amanda caught a glimpse of the dark emerald. “Hmm mm—” she said, dipping back. “If you come to bed, too.”

“I’m fine here—”

“Then I’m fine here, too—” Amanda cut her off, nestling her head against the skinny shoulder.

“You’re trying to play with my conscience—” Beth grumbled.

Amanda laughed softly. “Is it working?” she asked with a tone she hoped was innocent enough, still laughing.

In answer, Beth rewarded her with a small laugh. She raised up. “Okay, fine—” She stood up as Amanda raised on her elbow, too. “You won.” The teenager looked down at her. “I guess I’ve still got a soft heart.”

Amanda grinned, getting to her feet. “Of pure gold.” She eyed the bed and the silken chemise and dressing gown and turned to Beth. “Are there more of them?” she asked.

Beth gave her a look. “The closet had a few, too. A few clothes and these. I guess she just left them.” Amanda nodded, walking to the wardrobe. “Thought the emerald hue would go well with your eyes.”

Sitting on the bed’s edge, next to the lingerie, Amanda ran her fingers over the silk cloth, tracing the trimmed lace bust area. It was a delicate thing, elegant and sexy, something that didn’t look like you should wear in the apocalypse. Her face settling, her mind made up, she lifted her head up.

 “Come on—” she urged Beth forward with her hand. “Go find the one you like. We’ll put them on, do our hair, and then sleep like this in the bed.” She patted beside her hip, grinning.

The first time in their room, they were going to be pretty. Then sleep.

Beth tossed her a lopsided grin back. “I saw some makeup stuff in the drawers, too.”

Amanda wondered to whom this room belonged to really, because it wasn’t the master bedroom, but she wasn’t going to question her luck. “Excellent.”

She stood up, scooping up her treasures and went behind the dressing screen in the room as Beth started looking for herself. As she peeled off her clothes and underwear, she tried to recall the last time she had ever worn something that sexy. The silk chemise slipped over her body like a feather, and Amanda checked the tag and saw that it was one of those luxury high-end lingerie brands. Not that she was surprised. The quality and delicateness of the silk had already made her figure out.

She twisted her head and looked at the mirror at the other side, catching a glimpse of herself. The dark rich emerald was making a different hue with her fair complexion and her brown hair, the green of her eyes reflecting the soft light in the room as they turned a shade darker.

Amanda raised her hands and loosened her hair, too, pulling off her hair tie. She passed her hands through her hair, combing her locks with her fingers, flipping it for volume. She even tossed her head down and tousled the roots of her still wet hair.

Straightening up, she checked herself again—and for a moment wished…Rick could see her like this—see her…pretty like this.

She really looked pretty and really wished Rick could see it. Reaching out for the silken robe, Amanda put it on. Maybe later.

When…when things became…less than what they were. This was for Beth and her, girls having a good time together, like a sleepover. Dolling up, getting pretty just for the fun of it, something Amanda had never done before.

Tying the silk belt of the gown around her waist loosely, Amanda walked out from behind the screen. With each move, the dressing gown shifted against her legs smoothly as Amanda felt—felt…very womanly.

It was an odd feeling, something she didn’t usually feel. Most of the time, Amanda didn’t feel…feminine. There were times she used to party while dressing accordingly, but even then, she was always so curt, so blunt, so uptight, but perhaps she just should’ve worn more dressing gowns. The thought almost made her laugh. She’d never had any dressing gowns before, nor any lingerie of this kind. Her underwear was mostly practical stuff, sports bras and bikini briefs, even the lace bra she’d found on the run had felt different.

Catching up with her, Beth eyed her, her look measuring, then a kind smile broke out. “You look very beautiful, Amanda.”

Amanda felt a blush warm her cheek at the compliment. “Thank you—” she said lowly. “It—it feels different—” she confessed. “But I like it.”

Beth gave her another look. “Maggie used to have lingerie like this—” There was an expression in her face now, nostalgic and sorrowful, but not in anger, not of pain, or vacant emptiness. “She was hiding ‘em in her room,” Beth went on. “But I found ‘em.”

   She padded towards the teenage girl and hugged her tightly. Wordlessly, they stayed in each other’s embrace for a while, just hugging each other. Then Beth stepped out of her arms. “How about this?” Raising her arm, she showed Amanda another chemise of dark navy. There was some lacework around the deep neckline again, but other than it was as simple and delicate as hers.

“Very pretty—” Amanda told her, too, with a smile.

She turned and walked to the small vanity table in the room facing the bed. “Come here—” the girl called her, waving a hand.

Still smiling, Amanda went to her. She sat on the cushioned short stool in front of the vanity and looked up at Beth. The teenager opened the drawer, and Amanda caught a glimpse of a photo frame inside beside the makeup products. Both pretended the frame wasn’t there. Perhaps—perhaps they should just return them to Deanna, clearing out the house, and Deanna could store them as keepsakes.

It felt wrong living in a house with those photo frames still here. Amanda decided to bring it up to someone tomorrow as Beth took a brush and started applying some shade of a soft warm brown in earth tones over the crease of Amanda’s eyes.

The teenager blended the shade with a practiced ease that made Amanda a bit surprised. Beth set the brush down and took the eyeliner. “Close your eyes.” The instruction came before she started drawing a line with the black liner.

“Do you know how to do this, right?” Amanda mouthed, careful not to mess up her work, her eyes tightly closed as she was ordered. Beth seemed to have practice, but it never hurt to ask.

“Hmm mm—” Beth answered. “Maggie and I used to paint each other a lot in summer breaks,” she said with that tone again. “Open your eyes. Look—” She waved her hand in the mirror.

Amanda twisted aside and checked it. “It looks very nice, Beth,” she said, turning to the girl again with a small smile.

Beth nodded.

She wasn’t kidding. The warm light shade had made the green of her eyes more pronounced as the thin black line over the dip of her lashes popped them out. Beth took the mascara next, and started doing her lashes, turning her eyelashes sharper, blacker, and Amanda thought she really looked pretty now.

 Beth whistled lowly. “Very nice, huh?”

Amanda nodded, this truly grinning. “Yeah.” Beth lightly dabbed blush on her cheekbones with a puff brush. “Don’t look so bad, huh?” she asked, turning to the mirror again. The makeup was barely there, but Amanda really felt like another woman.

“Hmm mm—” Beth hummed.

Amanda looked up at the girl once more, craning her head up. “Come on, let’s do you too—”

She stood up. Sitting on the stool Amanda had evacuated, Beth gazed at her critically. “Do you know how?”

Amanda laughed softly. “Beth Greene, there was a time I used to be a party girl.”

Beth gave her a skeptical look as Amanda picked up the blending brush. “You?  Partying?” she asked with disbelief.

She let out another small laughter. “Yeah, I know. I got bored eventually. Too loud. Too crowded.” Amanda tossed the teenager another grin. “Wanna a rave makeup—?”

Beth nodded eagerly.

Amanda rummaged through the products. “Well—” she said with a sigh. “I guess she was going for classics,” she commented looking at high-end classic palettes. “No glitter or metallics. Gonna have to do it old school, I guess.”

She found the darkest blue and purple and mixed it with a bit black until she reached the intense smoky dark tones she was looking for. She applied the shade over Beth’s eyelids, not timidly. It was for fun, so she got…crazy, appropriately for a rave, and blended the dark shadow over up to her temples.

Putting the eyeshadow aside, Amanda took the eyeliner and made a full cat eyeliner with a long flicking end and put on a lot of mascara. She chose soft peaches for her cheekbones and, putting a dark red lipstick on the curve of her hand, she dabbed the red with a generous amount of dark navy and purple eyeshadow she’d used for the eyes until she had that glinting red-blue hue she aimed for.

Amanda took a step back, eyeing her handiwork, then leaning back down again, she dabbed the red-blue hue on her tear ducts before she took the eyeliner again. She started making a delicate hook under one of her eyes, drawing it up to her temple for the dramatic effect. Satisfied, Amanda stepped back once more and nodded.

“How is it?” she asked.

Beth twisted aside towards the mirror. “It’s—different.” The reply came together with a laugh.

“It’s supposed to—” Amanda shot back. “Go change your clothes.”

While Beth changed to her own lingerie, Amanda took off the long robe and pulled back the bed’s covers. She slipped inside in her chemise and lay on her back on the clean sheets.

Amanda could feel the soft mattress under her, shifting together with her as she stirred. There were no roots poking at her, no uneven ground, no crunching foliage, and no hard floor biting. The pillow under her head was as soft as the mattress. She wondered if she could manage a wink of sleep tonight. It felt so different, so out of place for a moment, that she almost crawled down and lay on the hard floor like Beth had done.

She stared at the ceiling, feeling it coming down on her. Her breath started getting short. The bed, the softness, the silken touch of her lingerie as she moved over the sheet, they were all wrong—wrong

She made a move, half jerked up out of the covers, but Beth just came out from behind the screen, looking at her with that look, all of that nostalgic easiness gone off her face. Amanda felt like she could cry.

Her eyes hurt, pricking. She drew back and rested herself against the headboard. Wordlessly, Beth walked to the bed and climbed on it. The teenager sat beside her in the bed in the same fashion, resting her back against the headboard, and looking all pretty in her dark blue lingerie with her rave makeup.

“We’re not going to sleep tonight, are we?” Beth asked in a small voice.

Amanda shrugged. “I guess not. We—we need time,” she repeated what she’d told Rick.

They stayed silent for a while before Beth stated in that same small voice. “You’re gonna start teaching us again?”

“Hmm mm.”

“I want to learn how to fight. Properly. Not only self-defense, but how to attack—” she stated, her tone heated. “Can we do it?”

Amanda turned and looked at the girl. She didn’t know, but she was too tired to talk, right now. “I was thinking of a course,” she replied. “We’ll talk later.”

Taking her cue, Beth slowly lowered herself in the bed as Amanda did also.

Beth twisted her head again on the pillow. “You really look pretty, Amanda—” the teenager told her, this time her voice almost sounding innocent. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the next room? I bet Carl is already asleep like a log.”  Amanda scoffed. “You can say you confused the rooms, returning from the bathroom. Oops.”

This time she couldn’t help it, she let out a soft giggle. “Guess I’m gonna pass tonight.”

“It’s Rick’s loss.”

Amanda laughed softly again before they fell into another silence. She slipped under the covers, staring at the ceiling, with Beth doing the same next to her. Getting hot, she yanked the quilt halfway down her breasts and draped her arm across her chest. She tried to remember how it felt sleeping with Rick on the couch, the weight of his hands on her, one hand gently rubbing her breast, the other just holding her, tucked inside her pants.

She stirred, remembering the feeling, a tug inside her pulling—the silken lingerie rose up over her hips as she wriggled. Amanda felt fresh soft sheets under her bare skin, the feel of wrongness finding her again. She shifted her legs. Grady’s hospital beds were never like this. Their sheets were always starched and sturdy. She wondered if the others were sleeping or having it feel foreign like them—

In the silence, she heard something. Amanda perked up halfway from the pillow just like Beth, listening intently, then recognized what she’d heard: soft baby wheezes.

Judith was crying.

As she lay motionless, her stomach twisted.

Beth was silent beside her as they listened to the baby girl’s soft cries until they started picking up. Judith was getting angry. Even from this room, Amanda could tell. Judith had a temper as worse as Rick, and when she got angry, she made sure everyone knew it.

“Amanda—” Beth called out.

She didn’t answer.

“Amanda—” Beth tried again. “Won’t you go?”

Staring at the ceiling, she shook her head. “No. Rick has it under control.”

Beth scoffed. “It doesn’t sound like it to me…” she muttered.

Amanda shook her head again. “I can’t, Beth—”

“Why not?”

Amanda turned to look at the teenager, recognizing her own words. “It’s—it’s—”

“—is appropriate now,” Beth sustained, making another reference to the prison.

But no. It still didn’t work like that. “Carl—” she started, but her words hushed as Judith let out a wail, and Amanda heard faint voices from the other side of the wall closer to them—Rick and Carl. Heaving out a deep sign, she threw back the covers and took the dressing gown she’d dropped over the foot of the bed. She slipped inside it quickly and tied the belt over her waist before she left the room.

She tried not to think how she looked, wearing only a chemise under a dressing gown, her feet bare, her face still having makeup applied. With a shaking breath, silencing all of her raving thoughts, Amanda tried to steady herself and cracked the door open.

Despite all of her reservations, despite hearing Judith’s cries and Rick and Carl’s heating voices, it took a few seconds before she could gather enough courage to step inside.

When she did, she pushed the door closed behind her and stared at them—stared at the scene. Carl was half sat up in the bed, supporting his half-twisted torso on one elbow. Rick was rocking the crib on the opposite side of the bed, only clad in a pajama bottoms and a white basic tee, trying to soothe the baby girl—

They were both staring at her now as Amanda stood frozen in the doorway, looking at them wildly. She’d never seen Rick like this. She’d seen him in many different ways: bloodied, beaten, worn out, but never like this.

A second later, she noticed his feet were also bare. Their eyes moved and found each other, and they shared a brief look… Judith’s cries were in her ears as Rick’s glinting eyes honed in on her, so intimate, so intense, a tug in her chest, and a fluttering inside her core with each breath—

She felt light, a strong urge to run away rising up in her, but she was here now. She had come. Straightening her back, Amanda moved away from the door and scurried to Judith.

Notes:

Whoa, Amanda has come! In the same room with Rick!
With a few addition; Carl and Judith :) When I made Amanda not going to Rick in the prison when Judy was crying in the middle of night, I was having that idea of making her to go to him in Alexandria. Needlessly to say, I waited for a loooong time for this chapter too!
The next three chapters will cover the night and the following morning, hehe, becasue they (and me) deserved it! Hehe.

Chapter 7: 'Stay'

Summary:

When Rick wants her to stay with him for the night, Amanda will need to make a decision.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When she moved, it looked like she was gliding over the floor more than walking. There was a graceful air around her as the silky fabric of the long, elegant robe brushed her slim legs with each hurried step, and when she got closer, Rick noticed she looked…different, so beautiful, but different. Makeup, she was wearing makeup.

Rick just kept staring. Carl was the same, looking at her as if he was seeing another woman. But she truly looked beautiful. Her head bowed, pointedly away from their open scrutiny, Amanda approached the mini crib and scooped Judith up in her arms.

She draped the baby girl over her shoulder as she finally raised her head and tossed Rick a half glare.

“Why are you making her cry?” she asked, her voice sounding pissed as she gently rubbed Judy’s back with her right hand. Judith’s hand instantly went to her hair as his baby girl sobbed on Amanda’s shoulder with soft hiccups.

“I told him so—” Carl supported Amanda with a scoff as Rick sat on the bed beside him.

Rick heaved a sigh. “Wanted her to sleep in her bed.”

“Rick—” Her tone took a note on almost chiding, towing Judith closer. “Adaptation takes time. She’s been sleeping with you for weeks now,” she went on with the same slow tone before she added, “She needs time.”

With that, his gaze found her again. They exchanged another brief glance. Her eyes—it was hard to decide their color now in the dimly lit room when the emerald hue of her robe placed a haze in them. They looked captivating, her usual mossy green turned so deep and so…green. Rick felt like he could look at them for an eternity and still not see the bottom.

Rick saw her drawing in a low breath. She twisted aside, breaking their eye contact, and started pacing the room, her hand still sliding over Judy’s back. With a rustle of sheets, Carl stood up.

“I’m going downstairs—” his son declared, heading to the door.

Realizing that Carl didn’t want to be in the same room with them right now, Rick let him. He could understand. This was getting awkward, more than Rick had thought. Amanda’s back was still to them, as if she felt the same as she swayed on her feet—her bare feet, rocking Judith in her arms.

Her silhouette in the soft light etched on his eyes. The long robe had made her hour-glass figure even more evident, her tiny waist pronounced with the silk belt, her tight small ass rounding around the silken fabric as she arched the small of her back a little to support Judith.

The long flowing skirts of it were draping gracefully around her legs like a waterfall. Rick’s gaze traced the length of it until it finished around her feet. With each sway her feet made, the hems of the skirt brushed her ankles, and Rick caught the glimpse of the little tattoo over her right inner ankle again; the tiny ink circle, the symbol he’d seen Beth draw at the tree where they’d buried Maggie under.

The sight of it combined with everything else made him stir in his pajama pants as he imagined kissing her ankle just right there.

He wanted to do it. Amanda had ankles so tiny, so delicate. He wanted to wrap his fingers around it, bring her foot up to his lips, kiss her ankle, run his tongue over it, make up his way up to her inner thighs, peppering her smooth skin with kisses. Then—then—he would kiss her just right there as she squirmed with anticipation of his kisses.

Rick had never done it. Hadn’t tasted her yet. He wanted to do it. Wanted it terribly. He wanted it so terribly, he almost stood up and pushed her against the door and dropped on his knees in front of her. What was she wearing under that robe? The urge to find out rose in him, but then his eyes fell on Judith.

Instead of calming the desire he felt simmering inside him, the sight of them together made it even worse as the feeling hit him strongly. This—this was what he wanted. He wanted her like this. Not going out, risking her life without him. It felt wrong, it felt—

Amanda turned to him. “She’s slept,” she announced in a small voice as Rick stared at her, taken up with his own musings, thoughts he didn’t know how to handle.

Bowing his head still sitting on the edge of the bed, Rick nodded. “Thank ya.”

Amanda walked back to the crib slowly, her robe’s hems sliding over her feet, but Rick tried not to look at it. He didn’t trust himself anymore.

Leaning over the crib's railings, Amanda lay down Judith before she drew up. “I—I should go.” Hearing the murmured words, his head jerked up. “Carl will be coming back.”

Rick gave a half nod. A slight frown appeared over her eyebrows. She looked…surprised.

Did she expect him to ask her to stay? Waited for him to make a move? Amanda had never been good at making first moves, but she had come. She couldn’t let Judith cry and stay next door, but she had come—perhaps for more?

And I’m still here, Rick, he recalled her words from the woods.

He opened his mouth to ask her to stay, stay with him. He really wanted to have a whole night with her alone. Just two of them. Even though she still wasn’t ready yet, he just wanted her to be with him. In the bed. He’d told her before he didn’t plan to spend it sleeping, but they could do other stuff…lay down…watch a movie, perhaps read together.

There was a small TV and DVD player in the room, and the book Amanda had brought to Carl from their supply run was on the bed stand on Carl’s side. They could lay down and read it together. He just wanted her at his side. In his arms. “Aman—”

He was cut before he could even utter her name by Judith’s soft cries. Amanda’s head whipped down as she almost jerked on her feet at the interruption. Judith held the crib's guard rails and pulled herself up, puffing out sobbing breaths. She raised her tiny arm towards Amanda immediately after seeing her again.

Amanda heaved a sigh before she started softly laughing. “We just put you down, baby girl,” she called out to Judith, shaking her head.

A smirk played across Rick’s lips. “Adaptation takes time, huh?”

She raised her eyes at him under her bowed head. “Don’t be a smartass, Deputy.”

Rick chuckled lowly. Amanda took Judith up again and padded around to sit beside him on the bed. Rick reached out to them as she passed Judith over to her left shoulder. Amanda shook her head, twisting away from his hands. “It’s okay—” she murmured to the baby.

His hand shifting, Rick passed a hand at the side of her head and tucked a lock of her hair over the back of her ear. “You look very beautiful,” he told her softly.

Even in the dim lights, Rick saw her blush. “Thanks—” she murmured. “Beth found them in the room. The others left them behind, I guess. We found some makeup stuff, too.” She waved her free hand over her face.

Rick ran his fingers over the robe’s neckline. “It’s very beautiful.”

“Yeah—” she said, hoisting up Judith a little as the baby girl stopped crying once she was back in her arms, drooling over her left shoulder sleepily. Rick chuckled. “And Judy is giving you a stain.”

She dipped her head down, twisting it to the other side, and from her profile, Rick saw a gentle smile flickering over her lips. She shrugged.

They stayed silently for a few minutes until Judith completely stayed still. Amanda turned to him. “Do you think we try again?” she asked.

Rick shrugged his shoulders. “You’re the expert.”

With a half eye-roll, Amanda rose to her feet and leaned over the crib to put Judy down as Rick watched—her backside, the round, small bump of her ass… Giving in the temptation, his hand shot up, and he caressed the swell of her hip, rubbing his palm over her right buttock.

She jumped slightly as she drew up and whirled to face him. “You look so beautiful, Amanda—” Rick whispered to her in a murmur, standing up, his eyes fixated on hers.

He snagged her wrist, and pulling her gently against his chest, he walked backward to the bed. “Stay—” he murmured over her lips, angling his head down. “Stay with me tonight.”

The back of his knees hit the bed’s edge. “Rick—” His name on her lips was all but a moan.

“Please—” He leaned in further and kissed her.

She let him.

In a second, they tumbled into the bed, Rick falling on his back. Moving himself upward over the bed by pushing with his feet, he dragged her along with him, his arms tightly coiled around her to suspend her lithe form over him.

Her legs were between his as he’d tucked them in, his hardness pressed on her groin as she fitted against him perfectly. Rick felt it again; felt it running through his veins; she was made for him, fitting to his edges perfectly… Resting himself back on the pillows, Rick rolled them over and tucked her under him.

Rick wanted to look at her. He wanted to watch her as he fucked her slowly, gently, taking his sweet time as he stroked himself in her depths like in his dreams. He wanted to see every expression she made as he did it, every moan, every groan as she tried to keep herself silent, her nails clawing at his back as she wrapped her legs around his waist tighter.

The image was so powerful, his cock throbbed painfully—twitching to get inside her—feel her heat, feel her fluttering, beating around himself like a pulse, clenching him.

“Amanda—” he murmured, leaning over her further, nestling himself further between her legs, grinding against her core. Heat was spreading over him; she felt like aflame on him, her hotness, her heat; she was his flame, and he was drawing to her center like a moth.

His hand started untying the belt around her waist. He wanted to see what lay under, wanted to slip off the robe, wanted to see those slim ivory-hued legs, that graceful ivory-toned bosom he’d spied before. He wanted to caress every inch of her body, he wanted to kiss every inch of her skin—her plains, her curves, her hidden places. He wanted to taste her, suck her in the places no one but him could see.

Loosening the belt, his hand crawled down through the folds of silken fabric and slithered between her legs.

His lips peppered small kisses under her jaw over to her ear as his hand brushed her wet entrance beneath the lace underwear. A thong. His breath hitched, realizing it as Amanda made a whimper in return, so soft. Combined together, they incited the desire in him even more.

“Amanda—” Rick called out her name again. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to say he always wanted her at his side now. He wanted to say he couldn’t dream a life without her anymore. He wanted to say he loved her…

He tilted his chin up for a long, long kiss, but twisting her head aside, Amanda avoided his lips.

“Rick—we—we—” she slurred the words hoarsely, gripping his shoulders. “We—we can’t.” She tightened her grip. “Judith—”

 As the name left her mouth in a whisper, Rick closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

Judith.

They couldn’t do it. They weren’t ready. Rick could keep her quiet, but Amanda wasn’t ready to have sex with him while Judith was sleeping beside them. Time…they needed time.

The words echoed in his mind as Rick forced himself to settle down once again.

Rick drew upright, rolling himself off her towards the bed’s edge, and slid back against the cushioned headboard. Amanda was still laying at his other side, staring at the ceiling, making no attempt to tidy up herself. She looked dazzled as she sprawled out, her legs bent at the knees in a slight angle, her right arm extended.

The open belt created a slit in her robe, where Rick spied a chemise in the same rich emerald tones. Rick knew now what she wore under that. His breath hitching, his cock throbbing painfully in his pajama pants, he drew his eyes away and bowed his head.

He kept his eyes trained in front of him. If he looked at her a second longer before he was cooled off, he knew he would lose it. Lose it completely.

They stayed like that for a while, both not talking. Rick stared down, his hardness still throbbing with each breath he took as Amanda just stared at the ceiling motionlessly. Then Judith started whimpering again.

With a sigh, Rick moved over to the bed’s edge and held the mini crib. As the little minx poked her head out of the crib’s edge, Rick couldn’t help himself anymore. He began laughing softly.

Losing the fight, Rick picked up the baby girl, and returning to the bed, he tucked her against his chest as he settled down in the bed, pushing himself up against the headboard. When he did, he also saw Amanda start stirring. She turned her head aside and gave them a look, and her lips started curving upward, too.

And she looked so, so beautiful. Rick wondered if she would look like this each morning after sleep. “Should learn by now when a battle is lost,” he murmured, reflecting her smile back.

At his words, Amanda smiled further. She wrapped the gown around her in a twirl of silk and rolled on her side. Watching them, she lifted her hand up and touched Judith’s back gently. “Yeah. She’s as much as a stubborn mule as her daddy—” she whispered.

Rick scoffed. “Look who’s talking.”

She moved to kneel, baring an ample amount of bare skin through the slit and disheveled neckline of the robe, his snowflake necklace dangling just under her collarbone. Amanda never took it off. She leaned down toward Judith and kissed the top of her head as his baby girl slowly fell asleep again in his arms.

Then Amanda swung her feet over the bed and started standing up.

Freeing one hand from Judith, Rick caught her wrist before she fully raised to her feet. “Stay—” he whispered at her. “You—you can still stay.”

She deeply heaved. “Rick—it—it’s not a good idea.”

He shook his head. “We don’t have to have sex. We could sleep. Like last night.” He looked at her, and his tone turned almost imploring. “Please. Stay.”

She stayed motionless for a few seconds at the bed’s edge, staring at him as Rick still held her wrist. Then silently, she crawled towards his other side again, as Rick rolled the crib to the bed’s side to provide a makeshift bedrail and laid Judith down next to him on the bed. He crawled down the bed and brought the little sofa at the foot of the bed beside the crib to completely block the edge for Judith. Satisfied, Rick crawled back up the bed.

Amanda gazed at Judith, the baby girl softly puffing in her sleep as Rick settled himself between them. His left arm reached out and tucked Amanda under it as she snuggled against his chest, half sitting, half laying. The slit of the gown revealed her bare legs again, and when Rick tilted his head down, he caught the glimpse of her décolletage, and again, his necklace.

The sight of it like that this time gave Rick such a stir his stomach coiled. He wanted to feel her, touch her… His hand around her hip slid up over the curve of her side before slipping underneath the silk cloth. Rick cupped her small, perky breast.

Her eyes raised and found his, but Amanda didn’t react to his fondling. Rick didn’t push it, either, only kept his hand there as he gently rubbed her softness like he’d done last night. Even with groping, the gesture was soothing him. He ran his palm over her nipple softly as he dipped his head and a light kiss on the top of her head. It made her snuggled against him closer as she almost purred, throwing her right leg between his. The act exposed her leg to his sight until her hip through the slit in the robe. God. Rick wished she always could come to his bed like this.

The thought, the sight of her gave him another stir, but Rick forced himself to focus on something else as his eyes trailed down along the slender leg and thought of the tiny tattoo on the inner part of her right ankle.

All things considered; it was a curious thing. Amanda wasn’t the type of girl you would expect to have tattoos. The placement of it was also curious, where it would stay almost invisible. But that part made sense. Her wanting to keep it secret, guarding her secrets like she usually did.

The thought rose affection in him, quenching the burning fire. Rick wondered what the design meant. He knew it meant something. Amanda wouldn’t literally etch something on her skin unless it meant something to her.

“Amanda—” Rick called out softly, still making lazy rubs over her breast. “That tattoo… what is it?”

She blinked at him a few times, craning her neck to gaze at him. Then twisting aside, she looked down, raising her foot an inch higher over his. “This—?” she asked, turning back to him. Rick saw a slight smirk appearing over her lips. “It’s a reminder for me not to drink absinthe.”

Tilting his head down, Rick arched a brow.

Amanda softly giggled. “I was into partying for a while when I was at the community college. Like a semester. I got bored eventually, but got this after a drunken night.” She waved her ankle lightly, almost playful.

Rick shook his head, smiling. “I don’t think I can manage to imagine you as a party girl no matter how much I try.”

She huffed. “I know.” She looked up at him again. “Even got my hair dyed green once.”

“No.”

She nodded with a soft giggle. “I know. Don’t worry. It passed quickly.”

Flicking his eyes down, Rick gave her another smile. He felt himself relaxing, even his hardness settling down. It was soothing, having her like this, curled up against his side like a cat, a well-pampered, well-taken care of, lavish cat. The thought, the sight of her took him again.

Rick had made it. He hadn’t found her this elegant robe, but he’d brought her here, made it possible. Found them a home, where she could lay down with him in a bed like a graceful feline, clad in a luxurious lingerie. Rick felt a strong surge of relief and contentment washed over him.

Amanda—the woman he loved should be like this. The feeling was with him once more, rising in him strongly, the urge to protect her, keep her safe, keep her like this. They had to talk. He needed to tell her. He needed to tell her it wasn’t just that he didn’t like her being out.

He didn’t want her to do legwork, wanted them to focus on their relationship instead, figure out each other like they’d talked before, get to know each other better without the stress of life-or-death situations. If they had to do stuff, they would, but Rick didn’t want her to go on runs constantly endangering herself.

But it wasn’t a discussion for tonight. Having her like this felt so good, that he just didn’t want anything to disturb their peace. Rick had missed it, the simplicity of it and the serene calmness. Even before the turn, things had become so strained with Lori, they couldn’t have these kinds of peaceful moments between couples.

Couples.

Rick liked the ring of it. They were a couple now, true partners.

He tipped his head as Amanda tucked hers against his shoulder even further. Her eyes were already half closed languidly, even though the green haze was still shimmering in them. “What does it mean?” Rick asked, inclining his right foot upward in the air as the act made hers rise too. “It’s a symbol, right?”

He recalled he’d seen it before, but couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Amanda nodded lingeringly. It was as if her whole body had moved into slow motion. Every move she made now was languorous, as silky as the gown she was wearing. Her agility was still there, the cool and curt edges, just softened in his arms for a while. The notion gave him a manly stir, something in his chest tugging as he wondered what he could do to have her like this in his arms every night.

“It’s ouroboros,” Amanda answered his question. “A symbol for the circle of life. Birth. Death. Rebirth.”

Surprised, Rick shot her a look, dipping his head again. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

Amanda did yoga, but he had never thought her of being into its spiritual part. She ran, did workouts, and those move-flow sequences she performed one after another effortlessly, but Rick had never seen her mediate before.

“Not really. I just liked the notion, I guess—” she admitted. “But it wouldn’t be bad, huh?” She propped her chin up on his shoulder and looked at him, but her green eyes now had a serious curiosity. “Are you religious, Rick? Do you believe in God?”

His eyes moving down, Rick looked back at her. They so seldom asked each other these kinds of personal questions that her asking it openly made something in his stomach shift. Rick shook his head. The last time he had tried, the last time he wanted to believe there was more to this nightmare they had, a purpose, Rick had his wish rewarded with Carl getting shot by a stray bullet. He had told her once he believed in his people, although he had lost his belief in people in general. But he still had it. He would always have it.

“No,” Rick replied. “I still believe in us."

His words made Amanda smile at him gently as she drew up an inch away from his chest and reached out up towards him.

Their lips touched, and they started kissing. Their kiss were almost as lazy as the moment they were having, meaningful but slow, lingering. He caressed the side of her face. She brushed her fingers across his jawline in answer. The languid kiss continued with no haste. Rick had no haste. There was no urgency. He didn’t want to rush things. He wanted to do it properly, give her what she truly deserved.

Rick broke the kiss, coiling his arms around her waist and hauling her up. He tucked her legs at one side of his hips as he settled her on his lap gently. With a soft smile, Rick brought a hand across the nape of her neck and brought her head again at the crook of his neck before he kissed her bare shoulder lightly.

As he hugged her tightly, Amanda hugged him back in the same way. “Gonna take you out for dinner tomorrow—” Rick murmured in her ear after a while as they stayed in each other’s arms, just cuddling.

Out?

Rick bobbed his head. “Yeah. Will make that casserole, then we will find a place and eat it together.”

He felt her smile against the side of his neck. “Then it’s a date.”

“It is—” Rick agreed. “Our first date.” Of many.

She drew back an inch and pointed a finger at him as she looked like she was fighting off a smile. “You better ask help for that casserole, Rick—” she warned playfully. “I don’t want to get sick on our first date.”

“Don’t worry—” he whispered to her before tightening his arms to draw her back to him. “It’s gonna be a night to remember. I promise.”

# # #

There was something in the way they were that made her lay…dormant in his arms. Amanda knew she shouldn’t stay, that she should leave, but she just…couldn’t. Not after he’d looked at her like that, asking—almost begging her to stay. So, she’d walked back.

So far so good.

She felt like she’d sunken in a time dilation field, their pace slowed down, the world slowed down. This was their third night in Alexandria, and nothing bad had happened so far, like Rick had said. Perhaps that was really it. Perhaps she really started counting on her board again, how many days they had without an accident.

The thought should get her stressed, but she couldn’t manage to get herself worked up. The thought of having sex had unsettled her again, especially when they were in the room with Judith, but then somehow even Rick playing with her breast lazily while Judith slept beside them peacefully couldn’t manage it.

So, Amanda just let it slide, snuggling against him instead. She also knew she was giving him an eyeful, the way the robe revealed her body, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about it either. In fact, a part of her even wanted it, like how before she wanted Rick to see her pretty, Amanda wanted him to see her like this, too.

Amanda tried to quell the shiver, remembering his promise. It’s gonna be a night to remember. She wanted it. Wanted him to cook for her, go to dinner. Alone. Only the two of them. Logistics could be a handful, but Rick would manage to find a place they wouldn’t be disturbed. Like tonight, sharing, kissing, having little moments, enjoying each other’s company—then—then perhaps…

Perhaps it was the right time. They’d been waiting for a long time. She was making him wait for a long time. Any lesser man would’ve already burst out and had a confrontation, but not Rick. He just kept her in his arms, all while having an erection and ignoring it. It must be hard for him, very frustrating. Perhaps the way he was yesterday at Deanna’s was a result of that, too. Too much unsatisfied sexual tension. It made things harder for him. And he’d only said he feared touching her now—

Well, it seemed he’d at least passed that stage now as his hand curled up around her soft flesh further and cupped her breast softly. It was so nice, his callous yet gentle fingers rubbing. Amanda inched closer to him. She should go, but she really didn’t want to. She didn’t want to leave the warmth of his arms, the peaceful serenity of the dimly lit room. Even Judith was sleeping in the bed beside them without a sound now, only giving out happy, soft puffs. But…Carl and Beth—

The thought woke her up. She couldn’t let Carl sleep in the living room for her, and Beth couldn’t stay alone tonight after all the things that happened to them. Their first night. No. Amanda couldn’t stay here, enjoying this lavish tranquility while Beth stayed in that room all by herself.

Bracing herself, she gripped the edges of his shoulders, and pushed herself an inch away from his embrace. The chilly air between them hit her, and it felt like something had ripped off her, but she didn’t cave in. Beth was alone. “I gotta go.” She had to. Rick’s calm expression shifted into a half, faint scowl as he gazed at her, those clear gemstone blue eyes staring at her. “Beth—” Amanda spoke quickly in the same quiet tones. “She’s alone. I can’t leave her alone—” She paused for a breath. “Not tonight. It’s our first night,” she added.

Understanding dawning in his eyes, Rick nodded slowly. She wanted him to understand. She wasn’t leaving him. She would’ve stayed... Perhaps another time. She wanted to stay a night with him like this. A whole night. Only the two of them like Rick wanted. The thought excited her as much as it scared her, but Amanda wanted it. She wanted to try. Like that day in the woods, she felt it. She wanted to see how much she’d changed. I’ve changed.

She didn't feel like the girl who was gifted fish because they feared she couldn’t handle anything more. The Officer Ice Queen.

The thought—the belittling, mocking words saddened her, but dipping her head down, Amanda looked at herself. She was sitting on a man’s lap now, wearing a very lavish robe as they only cuddled. A man she’d been refusing to have sex with because she was damn scared. The man she was trying to date in the apocalypse—the man who was going to cook for her. Her thoughts swirled in her mind further but Amanda got a grip on them. It was no time to dwell on those. Beth needed her.

With a sigh, she uncurled herself, and careful not to wake Judith up, she crawled to the foot of the bed and slid down. Rick followed her, like the gentleman he was. He walked her to the door, his hand gently on the small of her back. At the door, they halted before twisting to each other.

Rick leaned in toward her and gave her a chaste kiss, threading his fingers through her hair before he cupped her cheek. They shared another quick kiss, and another, and another…before Rick cracked the door open, but they were still kissing. It was so hard to leave him.

Forcing herself as her lips still lingered over his, Amanda finally stepped aside, pecking him the last time when the door moved. She felt the chill out of the corridor hit her with a shiver. Rick pulled her for one last kiss before he mouthed in her ear. “See me in your dreams.”

She softly giggled but gave him another light peck on the lips before twisting around as she slipped out of his arms.

Amanda scurried away from the master bedroom to hers and Beth’s in record time. Aside from Beth and Mika, there were only Carol and Joan on their floor, but still she wasn’t looking for an audience. Not when she was like this, dressed in a dressing gown, slipping out of Rick’s dorm room like some college lovers.

The thought almost made her giggle again. She felt a bit dizzy, even though she didn’t have anything to drink. She knew what it was, but she didn’t want to think on it right now, either. Not tonight.

She just wanted to go back to her room now, hold Beth, and go to sleep remembering tonight, dreaming how it would be tomorrow night—

Silently, she cracked open their room’s door, nudging it slowly, but seeing the scene in front of her, Amanda froze in the doorway once again.

# # #

His hand at his stomach, as the other supported at the back of his neck, Rick stared at the ceiling, feeling the chill of the room without Amanda’s warm body snuggled against him. Twisting his head aside, he looked at the spot she’d vacated before he made her straddle him.

The sheets were still shifted where she had been laying, still having her lingering warmth. If he closed his eyes and sniffed deeply, he could still smell her scent in the sheets. She must’ve taken a shower before, her smell tinted with honey milk etched on it. It was one of the body wash bottles in the shower. Rick had chosen the soap, but Amanda had opted for honey milk fragrance. It suited her. Rick liked it, and he damn missed her even though it wasn’t even a minute she’d been gone.

His eyes shifted to her place, and with a sigh, Rick reached out over to the side Carl had left and picked up the book on the bed stand. He couldn’t sleep now. Perhaps he would call Carl up from downstairs, but he wasn’t particularly in the mood to receive a scowl from his son right now, especially not when he still had a hard-on bulging in his pants.

He would wait for a while, read a little bit, then get Carl back. Reaching over Judith to turn on the bed lamp on the bed stand for reading, Rick ran a finger across his baby girl’s tummy before he opened the book. Remember. Run. Survive.

The young adult book was a bestseller, he knew it from Carl earlier, so he hoped the teenagers at least had a sense for good literature. He opened up the cover and started reading the first page before he heard the light footsteps in front of his door. He whipped his head up.

The door opened slowly a second later and Amanda—having a dazzled expression, slipped quietly inside. Rick stared at her.

“Amanda?” he called out. She looked up at him. Panic clutching him, Rick lunged over the bed hurriedly, almost waking up Judy in the meantime. “Wh—what’s happened?”

Noticing his panic, Amanda raised her hand. “Nothing. I mean—” She swallowed. “Uh—Carl is with Beth—” she muttered the words, heading towards him, her dazzled expression becoming more lost. “They—they’re sleeping. So—uh, I left.”

“They’re sleeping—” Rick repeated. “Together?”

Somehow the notion…unsettled him. Carl and Beth were friends, but Carl had always had this crush on Beth, which might’ve turned a bit more…complicated after what had happened to them in the woods.

Amanda nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah. I guess she figured out I was here—so she asked him to come up…” she commented, shaking her shoulders. Rick nodded. “Uh—” She looked at him. “Can—can I stay here tonight?”

Rick shook his head, heaving a sigh. “Do you need to ask?”

She shrugged with one shoulder this time. Rick waved his hand at her as he moved on his knees to the foot of the bed. “Come here—”

With a shy smile, Amanda slowly headed towards him. Straightening fully on his knees as she stood at the edge of the bed, Rick took the robe’s belt and started undoing it again. She didn’t stop him, but her expression was bearing an uncertain look as Rick slipped the robe off her. “You can’t sleep in it—” he reasoned.

Besides, he really wanted to see her in that chemise. He really wanted to.

The sight wasn’t disappointing. It was an elegant lingerie like Rick had gotten a peek at, the hem brushing her hips, as above it had a deep cut exposing quite a bit of her bosom, his necklace even more of an open sight, dangling towards between her breasts. The back was open to the small of her back, held only by thin straps crisscrossing her back.

She looked so beautiful, and all the words Rick couldn’t manage to think of right now, not when she stood in front of him like this, her head tilted down slightly to look at him. Suppressing a shudder of anticipation, Rick took her hand and brought her back to the bed.

Her eyes darted to Judith for a split second as she crawled on her hands and knees, giving Rick another stir and a renewed hard-on as his eyes caught the thin slip of the thong between her tight, round buttocks. It was torture, seeing her like this—touching, feeling, but not going on forward, but a part of him almost enjoyed it, too. He must’ve grown into being a masochist.

She settled on his other side again as Rick propelled himself in between Judith and her. They half lay down, resting on the pillows against the headboard. Her eyes picked up the book next to his pillows as Rick scooped her again under his arm.

“Were you reading?” she whispered to him, getting closer to him on her side, her right hand resting on his chest. Rick bobbed his head as his hand slithered downward on its own accord over her curves before it found her ass. The skirt of her chemise already rode up over her hips, and Rick fondled her bare ass, as her breasts, almost bare too, pressed against his chest.

“Wanna read?” Rick asked, tilting his head down. “It’s the book you brought for Carl.”

Craning her head, Amanda looked up at him, and another soft smile broke over her lips. “Really?”

Rick gave her another little nod as he picked up the book with his free hand and showed it to her. Her smile curved further as she nodded back, somewhat looking pleased, too. “’kay.”

She settled herself against him further to see the book, tucking her leg between his. Their entwined bodies felt so good again, even though Rick felt he was wearing way too many clothes for his taste, but he didn’t want to disturb Amanda’s calmness by taking off his shirt or his pajama bottoms. She didn’t look like she was minding being almost naked in his arms, even when his fingers found the thong that slid in between her ass cheeks and started tugging at it absently.

Amanda just kept still; her eyes fixated on the book as her hand started moving over his chest, too. Rick wondered if she was really reading because suddenly the words had stopped registering in his brain.

He tried to turn the page, but raising her hand from his chest, Amanda stopped him. “Shsss. Haven’t finished yet.” She returned her hand on him again, resting it on his side, then it started moving, too. It crawled towards the edge of his basic tee, and a second later, slipped under his shirt. As she still read, she started gently running her fingers across his bare skin.

Rick all but forgot the book in his hand, forgetting to pretend to read as she stroked his stomach idly. A soft hiss escaped from him as Amanda kept reading. Rick closed his eyes for a second, reveling in being touched that way, affectionate—almost mundane, but still so intimate. He almost threw the book and rolled her under him and started fucking her—no—no—making love to her—smoothly, gently.

He wanted to kiss her deeply, slowly like the first time he did. Wanted to show her how they could do this. The need was like a craving his whole body ached for. It took everything, everything in him not to make the move.

His hand on her ass clenched as his fingertips dug into her tight flesh. Startled, Amanda whipped her head up. She blinked at him, her own hand under his rode up shirt frozen as if she just realized what she was doing.

“Uh—s—sorry—” she murmured in a throaty whisper, pulling her hand away. His hand shooting up from her ass, Rick stopped her.

“No—” he roughed out with difficulty. “’s ‘okay—” he muttered. “Keep reading.”

She shook her head, her hand staying still. “Uh—let’s sleep,” she replied, gliding downward. “Tomorrow is gonna be a long day,” she remarked, trying to keep her voice casual. “We need to talk with Deanna.”

Nodding, Rick closed the book, and twisting aside, straightening up a little to reach to the bed stand, he set it down and turned off the lamp.

The room fell into darkness. Flicking a glance at Judith in the dark, to make sure the baby girl was okay, safely set between the crib and sofa, Rick rolled back to his place. As they lay completely down, he pulled the covers over them. Under the covers, they stirred as they settled themselves into each other’s arms awkwardly.

Her hand was still at his side over his shirt as Rick kept his over her ass cuddling her, her chemise completely risen up almost to the small of her back. Her right leg was tucked between his again as she half draped herself over him on her stomach, her arm draped across his middle, her hand resting his other side, and her head at the crook of his neck. Even in the position, she sleekly made herself face the door, but Rick didn’t say anything. Amanda never slept with her back to a door, Rick had noticed.

The awkward hesitance became more palpable as they lay in the silent dark, the only sound breaking it was Judith’s soft puffs. Rick listened to it as he tried to settle himself down again, trying to relax. His hand began making soft circles around the small of her back and easing downward found the thin, lacy strip of her thong, but Rick only focused on her smooth skin as he stroked her. Again, the gesture calmed him down as he felt the tightness in his stomach started uncoiling.

Amanda’s breaths turned steadier, too, but her hand was still dormant. In the dark, Rick stared at the ceiling, wondering if he would get any sleep tonight. It still felt weird, though, the soft mattress, Amanda almost naked in his arms, the lavishly decorated room, his pajama pants… Amanda’s silk chemise…

“Carl—” he suddenly broke the silence a few minutes later in a whisper. “Carl told me today that he and Beth smoked.”

It felt like he should tell her about it and share something. About family. Their worries. The notion nudged something else in him too—another thought—persistent to get acknowledged, but Rick couldn’t deal with it right now, either.

Amanda raised her head, supporting her chin on his chest to look up at him. There was suspicion in her eyes, but Rick knew it wasn’t about them this time. “Ron and Clarice gave them—”

She made a face. “I knew those sisters are up to no good—” she whispered, her voice heating. “I knew.”

Rick let out a small sigh. “They’re teenagers. Curious.” He paused. “The world still goes on.”

“Well, I don’t want Beth to start killing herself slowly with nicotine—” she clipped.

“Me neither,” Rick agreed. “I should—uh—stop too. Set up a good example.” He let out a soft, low chuckle. “Carl challenged me when I brought it up.”

She made another face. “You only smoked…twice.” She darted her eyes below, understanding what that meant. Rick only wanted to smoke after sex. He hadn’t gotten many chances.

Shooing away the thought, Rick gave her a look, finding her shimmering green eyes in the dark. “Don’t make a scene. Carl said he won’t do it again. He would talk to her.”

Shaking her head, Amanda rested her head back on his chest. “I’m worried about her, Rick,” she confessed. “She was sleeping on the floor when I went to the room. Didn’t want to sleep in the bed. She’d told me that even in the prison, it took her a month before she started sleeping in the bed again because she was afraid of losing it, and now...” She trailed off, making a low gulping sound. “I made us wear these just to take her mind off. You know—girls prettying up.”

Rick nodded, squeezing his fingers as he moved them up over her side. “It’s gonna be okay,” he rasped in a whisper. “They’re gonna be okay.” He paused, tilting his head down to give hers a light kiss, pulling her closer. “They need time.”

Amanda softly laughed. “Good night, Rick,” she replied, resting herself on him further before Rick did the same with another kiss.

His lips touched at her hair lightly as he whispered in her ear. “Good night, baby.”

She didn’t make a sound, but Rick felt her smile against his skin.

Notes:

Whoa--finally they're sleeping in the same room, and in this fashion :)
We'll pick up with the others too in the next chapter, Daryl&Joan and Beth&Carl before we see the morning after :)
I'm really enjoying exploring the slow burn evolution of Amanda and Rick's relationship here, something I didn't do in Adaptation.
Don't hesitate to leave a comment, please. In these days, I really need a bit of motivation as I'm currently struggling in the future chapters, trying to deal with Pete and Rick.
I'll try to update the second part ASAP. Ciaociao!

Chapter 8: 'We can't go back'

Summary:

After spending their first night together, both Amanda and Rick faces new challenges in the morning. His son makes an impossible yet demanding request to Rick as Amanda starts feeling the complications of a committed relationship further as the group still try to settle down in Alexandria.

Notes:

Guys, thank you for the comments. Made me sooo happy and motivated :) I'm also marking the story as 'explict' from now on, becasue I believe I'm crossing the 'mature' line with this chapter.
Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When Daryl found her, Joan was sitting on the steps of the back deck, sipping from the newly brewed coffee. Everyone else had gone inside the houses, lights turned off. Mostly. The house that stood just next to theirs that was only separated by a narrow pathway of cobblestone with a short evergreen fence was already darkened, but above her on the second floor, a lone faded orange hue was still visible. Joan knew whose room it belonged to.

Absentmindedly, Joan wondered if Amanda was there. Before she’d left the house, Joan had heard soft baby cries. Something told her that her officer friend wouldn’t ignore them now. Amanda Shepherd had turned into a mother hen. It was almost a snarky thought, and Joan felt bitter, too, though she knew it was falsely directed. Mostly. Her gaze drifted down, and she stared at her mug.

She brought it up after a second and took another sip. Coffee, it’d been a while since the last time she had coffee. Gorman—

Joan stopped that thought even before she started. Frowning in the dark, she looked ahead, towards the great wall.

“Hey—” the familiar rough drawl rasped beside her, and startled, Joan jerked on the steps a little.

She twisted aside and saw Daryl as he swung his arms over the railing. “Whaddaya doin' here?” the hunter asked lowly, slanting a look over to her. “Why ain’t ya inside?”

“Didn’t feel like sleeping,” she replied stiffly. “You—back from watch?”

Daryl gave a half bob of his head. “Yeah, I was heading to the garage. Saw you—” His eyes returned to her, assessing her as Joan sipped from the mug again. “Ya okay?”

Joan shrugged, a similar gesture she’d picked up from him. Daryl gave her another glance as Joan’s eyes darted over to him, checking his unkempt appearance.

Daryl was the only one who hadn’t showered yet, still looking like always did, a creature of the woods. The smell of earth and the woods on him was stronger here more than out there. The leather scent was still poignant, too, along with the smell of sweat and wild animals. It was a scent Joan had grown accustomed to. Somehow it was soothing, too, something that made her feel…better. Safer?

Her eyes flicked up and caught his, and Joan realized once more what clear blue eyes he had. “I don’t want to stay in—” Words left her, bitter and curt, her hands gripping the mug tighter while she felt the heat through the porcelain.

Joan didn’t move them away.

She didn’t want to stay inside the walls. Didn’t want to be a pretty puppet again that played at the end of their strings. The memory of a backhand landing on her cheek almost made her scream, or cry, another string of ungrateful bitches clanking loudly in her mind as she tumbled on the bed on her back—

“Then don’t—” Daryl replied, leaning over the railing. “I'm gonna go out tomorrow to put up snares. Come with me.”

Lifting her head up to look at the man, Joan eyed him carefully for a few seconds before she asked, “You still go out to set snares?”

The hunter shrugged. Why not? Joan laughed lowly raising the mug to her lips again. “Old habits die hard, huh?”

Daryl shrugged again. Joan stood up, lowering her hand with the mug at her side. “Deanna won’t like it, you know.”

Another absent, indifferent shrug was her answer. “See ya tomorrow then—” Joan said, smiling an inch. She paused, almost going back inside, but something stopped her feet. She—she wanted to add something. Do something. Show him how much it meant to her…

She—she wasn’t an ungrateful bitch.

Still holding the half empty mug, Joan leaned in and kissed him on the cheek lightly. “Thank you,” she murmured to his ear, her lips hovering over his stubble as Daryl stood motionless. Joan didn’t move, either. The rugged sensation against her chapped lips felt odd, but Joan liked it. Gorman always kept himself clean shaven, smooth…

She drew back, the thought disturbing her again as her expression tightened. She felt tainted, like all of her memories, her sensations were tainted with him, all of her felt tainted with him.

Her eyes pricked. “Hey—” Daryl called out, leaning over her further from the railings. He was startled when she did it, but now Joan heard clear worry in his tone when he asked, his burrows furrowing, “Ya okay?”

“Yeah—” Joan dismissed it quickly with an absent jerk of her head before she turned and scurried away.  “See ya in the morning.”

As she did, she could feel his eyes still staring at her back.

# # #

When Beth heard soft footsteps outside, she shifted in the bed laying awkwardly in the dimly lit room and straightened up a little. Being alone in the room felt awful, and she was debating with herself if she should lay down on the floor once more. It still would feel awful, but at least it would feel less awful. But Beth also was half expecting Amanda to return to the room after chickening out. Despite all of her courageous and determined spirit, Amanda Shepherd could be such a coward sometimes.

Beth almost scoffed, but halted as footsteps padded away from their door. Understanding who they belonged to, she quickly jumped off the bed and rushed to the door.

“Hey—” She cracked the door and poked her head out. Just as she surmised, Carl was lurking on the landing, heading downstairs. “Where are you going?” Beth whispered.

All of a sudden, fear gripped her. She tried to suppress the panic she felt at remembering the last time Carl had snuck out, and what had happened then—her palm itched.

“Downstairs—” her friend answered, slowly turning to her. “I’m not going to sleep in the same room with them. They—” He stopped in the middle of his sentence, his eyes narrowing at her in the dark corridor, turning to slits as he gave her a startled look. “What’s that on your face?”

Beth pursed her metallic blue lips. “It’s rave makeup. Amanda did it,” she informed him, before she added on the topic, “I don’t think she will sleep over there.”

Carl shrugged. “Not gonna sit down with them, either.”

She stepped aside, opening the door a bit further in an invitation. Carl gazed at her suspiciously. “C’mere, Carl—” she called out. “I don’t want to sleep. And I’m bored.”

And it really felt awful staying alone in the room, but Beth didn’t say that part. She was wearing a robe like Amanda over her own lingerie, dark navy like its matching counterpart. Carl tossed her another look, more cautious now, before he walked in.

“Amanda and I did a makeover—” Beth explained, closing the door after him. “Found these in the closet.” She gave her friend a small smile. She wanted to do something silly, like she was fifteen and stupid again.

Like—like that girl. Clarice.

Beth had never hated someone before. No. She’d hated those men in the woods, their cruelty, their monstrous atrocity, their careless evilness. But it wasn’t like that. Sweet, fifteen, and stupid, Clarice was all Beth had dreamed to be once.

Once upon a time… There was a girl, and she died…

Beth went to the vanity table, Carl still looking at her cautiously. Her friend was always looking at her cautiously these days. Leaning over the vanity, she opened the first drawer and took out the photo frame. The girl in the photo was around Amanda’s age, having thick blond curls that were falling over her shoulders like sunshine. She looked so beautiful, so happy in the frame that Beth felt that pinch in her chest again. Her shorter hair was a matte dirty blonde now, even after the showers she’d taken, a dull color, not sparking like sunshine as it used to before. Not like the girl in the photo, not like Clarice. Clarice’s sunshine hair was still so lush, so lavish, so silky.

Her lips flattened at the thought, Beth turned and started walking towards Carl and saw him looking around doubtfully as he tried to decide where to settle.

There was one very comfy armchair in the room, a sofa at the foot of the bed, and the vanity table’s stool. Carl seemed like he didn’t want to sit on the bed or on the sofa, so Beth strutted towards the armchair.

She thought she did. Beth never strutted before, but just walking didn’t sound good enough to describe the way the silken gown brushed over her legs with each step. No, with a dressing gown like this, a woman would only strut.

So, Beth strutted and slid into the armchair. She folded her legs under her, covering herself as the slit of the skirts exposed her legs before Carl came and sat on the floor on the rugs just beside her seat, resting his back against the armchair.

Leaning in, Beth showed the frame to Carl. Twisting aside, looking up at her, he took the photo from her. “I think they belong to her. Found it in the room.”

Carl nodded. “I saw some frames, too.”

“She’s beautiful—” Beth remarked, running a finger along the edge of the silk. Once upon a time, there was a girl, and she died. It was still the same old story. The girl must have died, too. And Beth was wearing her clothes now. Just like how Carl was carrying Michonne’s sword. Carl hadn’t handed it in to the armory like the rest of the guns, instead put it on the mantelpiece over the fireplace in the living room.

Beth wouldn’t have guessed, but they had let him. Carl still had his memento from his friend. Beth had nothing.

She flicked her eyes down to Carl again. “My music box—” she remarked. “You still haven’t given it back to me.” She wanted it back. Carl had put it in his bag while they were packing in the barn, and when she asked later, he told her he was going to fix it, but it was still with him.

“I haven’t fixed it yet,” Carl replied. “I was going to ask dad again—”

Beth cut him off. “Don’t bother. I don’t mind it being broken.” She paused. Beth didn’t mind broken things anymore. In fact, sometimes…sometimes she wanted to break things. Everything was in ruins now. Why would they care?

Why not? Amanda’s answer echoed in her, but Beth silenced it down. “I just want it back,” she declared with a low but stern voice.

She wanted it. Carl shrugged.

They sat in silence for a while before Carl raised his arm up with the photo towards her. “My mother’s photo was lost in the prison—” he said in a small voice, handing her the frame back. “Judith will never know how she looks like now.”

The thought saddened Beth. She had accepted it was how their life was now, leaving things behind, but it was still sad. Beth remembered the prison, what his father had told her when he’d found her still unpacked after weeks there, telling her what the point was of living if you didn’t have hope.

It was a question Beth feared to ask herself anymore. She knew she didn’t want to…die. She at least couldn’t do it to people who still cared about her, but everything else… Beth just didn’t know. She wished she could have her journal at least, read what she’d written before, her words, her memories…not everything was lost. But her journal was still there in the prison, along with the bracelets Maggie had made for her and her father’s Bible. Like Carl family photo.

They all had stayed back there. Had they lost them too? Like everything else?

Sadness dissipating into a hot anger, Beth shook her head. “We should turn back—” she whispered heatedly.

Carl looked up at her. “We should return to the prison and take them back,” she clarified in the same heated tones, leaning forward. “We have to go back.”

“Dad would never let us—” Carl interjected, shaking his head.

“Maybe they would.” The prison still had supplies, meds they’d brought from Grady, weapons. Beth wasn’t an idiot. Even with all the supplies here, she still knew meds and guns were a priority.

“We talk with Amanda and Rick. The guns and meds are still there, right?” she asked, mulling over the idea.

“They would want to get them back,” she continued. It would work. It should work. Carl, though, was still suspicious. “The others would want to come, too.” They all had left something behind. Her hand moving away from the fringes of silk, her thumb caressed her palm, feeling the scar tissue running under her fingertip.

“I don’t know—” Carl answered after a pause. “It’s a long way from here. And the prison is swarmed by walkers.”

Well, there was that, too. Beth paused. “I think walkers would just wander away without anything living when the fences are down. Perhaps they already did. We know they herd up then immigrate if they’re not trapped.” She paused again, remembering something else. “Before Governor attacked, Maggie was talking about a supply run with Glenn to go back to the farm to check it.”

Carl was silent again for a while, then slowly stated, “I don’t think Dad would risk it.”

Beth scowled. “Every breath we take is a risk—” she intoned her father’s words. They could only decide now how to take their own risks. His eyes lifting up at her again, Carl gave her a long look, the fringes of his dark brown hair brushing his eyebrows.

Carl had let his hair grow longer after Lori died. Beth didn’t understand it first, but now she did. She used to see Lori cutting Carl’s hair all the time before. After she died, Carl stopped cutting his hair, too.

Beth flicked her hand through her own hair, brushing over her shoulders. After Maggie died, Beth just cut it instead, feeling it was too long. Too long for such a world.

“Do you really want it?” Carl asked, still looking at her. “To go back there?”

“My father’s Bible, Maggie’s bracelets—” Beth replied lowly. “I want them back.”

With a word, Carl only nodded before he twisted aside and rested his back against the armchair again. Beth knew he understood. Her friend was only a few people she had left who still understood her. They stayed like that for a while, both not talking any further, listening to the silence.

Time passed—and Amanda didn’t return.

Her eyes darting below, Beth spied as Carl gave covert glances to the door. The silence almost became oppressive as they just sat there, the whole house in a deep slumber. Everyone was sleeping.

Everyone?

Well, Beth started wondering. She perked up her ears and tried to catch something, anything—nothing. There was no sound. Not even soft baby wheezing. Judith must be sleeping.

And Amanda still hadn’t returned.

The implication of it became heavier in the silence. Amanda was staying with Rick and Judith. Her curiosity grew more and more as Carl’s expression got sourer.

Beth flicked another look over to her friend. “Do you think they’re doing it?” The words suddenly popped out of her mouth, and Beth was as surprised as Carl when she heard them aloud.

His head whipped up at her, Carl stared at her. Tugging a lock of hair behind her ear, feeling a sudden unease, Beth tried to shrug. “Uh, well, she hasn’t returned yet.”

Resting his hands on his pulled up bent knees, turning away from her, Carl bowed his head. “Yeah.”

They passed another moment like that silently before Beth couldn’t help herself but ask, too. “Carl—have you—have you ever—”

Realizing what she was asking, Carl cut her off, raising his head. “No.” His eyes found hers. “Did—did you?”

Beth shook her head slowly. “I—I got to the second base with Zach,” she replied truthfully.

Carl bobbed his head. “I kissed Alice,” he confessed after a pause. “It was a dare.”

Beth smiled a little and tried to remember the girl. She’d come a few months after they’d started taking people in, but Beth couldn’t remember who had found them. It didn’t matter anyway. She was possibly dead, too.

Once upon a time, there was a girl, and she died… It felt like the words had slipped in every curve of her brain, and Beth almost told him what she’d thought in the woods before.

They—they were friends. Weren’t they?

If something happened, and they died tonight or tomorrow… Beth remembered smokes. The things I need to do before I die—her voice echoed in her mind before Amanda’s warning followed: it’s crossing a line.

Shaking her head, Beth pulled up to her feet. She was getting bored. With herself. Perhaps one day, but not tonight. Tonight, they would just—

She waggled a hand at Carl. “Come on, it’s getting late. Let’s sleep.”

Looking up at her cautiously again where he still sat, Carl hesitated.

Beth sighed. “She’s staying with him, Carl,” she told him slowly. Her eyes turned down on him, and she asked openly, “Can you stay with me?” She paused before she confessed, because friends never lied. “I—I don’t want to be alone. It feels awful.”

Without a word, Carl stood up.

Lifting the covers, Beth slipped into the bed still with the robe on. Carl walked to the other side and got into bed. He was wearing a pajama bottom, something he possibly found in his own room. Twisting aside and reaching up, Beth turned off the lamp on the bedstand before she fell back on the pillows.

Her first night in a real room after almost two years. She wondered if she should wipe off the makeup, but she didn’t bother. Even Amanda hadn’t made a fuss over it, just came to bed before she left. Such trivialities didn’t belong to their lives anymore.

Carl’s breaths were rhythmic in the silence, and Beth listened to him, trying to remember a forgotten song’s lyrics. She needed to complete her song, too. It was on her list.

“Goodnight, Carl—” Beth whispered in the dark, closing her eyes, the tip of her thumb caressing her scarred palm before his answer came within a heartbeat.

“Goodnight, Beth.”

# # #

As Amanda woke up, the first thing she felt was the warmth. It was engulfing her, enwrapping her in a sweet heat, and wetness. Perspiration. She was sweaty with skin contact, and in a weird way it was so satisfying that she still didn’t want to move.

She blinked her eyes sleepily against the sunlight that seeped through drapes over the windows. She was still half on her stomach over Rick in the same way under the covers; her leg tucked between his, her head nested against the crook of his neck, her arm across his middle. And her hand, well, it had found its back way under his shirt once again as she held him at his side.

Rick wasn’t very different, either. His hand was still gently cupping her ass. Her lips curved up into a lazy smile. Go figure, they turned into the cuddling type. Amanda always hated any skin contact more than necessary, and she was really wondering why it changed now. It was so good, so warm, his breath tickling over her skin—

Cracking his eyes open, Rick tilted his head down and smiled at her. “Mornin’.” The word rolled around his tongue throatily, his voice thick with sleepy roughness, and it was damn sexy.

It sent a tender jolt of pleasure through her core. Amanda stirred more as she mouthed the word back at him, raising her head up from its nest. Their lips met for a slow, lazy kiss. Their morning breath wasn’t fresh, but Amanda didn’t care. It felt like she had stopped caring about everything.

They kissed like they had nothing in the world to do in the moment. Tightening his arms around her back, Rick hauled her up further over himself, strategically positioning her groin over his morning hardness.

Her arm sliding down, she smoothed her hand over his stomach gently, wanting to sense his warm skin again. Rick had a lightly hairy chest, something Amanda had always wondered how it would feel to kiss. She wanted to find out, wanted to run her tongue over the silky hairy texture.

Her hand tugged at the hem of his shirt. Understanding her desire, Rick raised up from the pillows as Amanda pulled back an inch, too, easing off her weight of him, and with a swift move, he pulled off his shirt and threw it away before he lay back down.

She slid downward over his body, tugging both of her legs inside his as she followed his treasure trail. Her tongue flicked around his belly button framed by the tiny silky dark hair she so wanted to taste as Rick hitched out his breath, his hands reaching down to grip her shoulders.

Amanda looked up at him and saw his head was tossed back on the pillows, revealing his Adam’s apple again. Returning to her discovery with a slow smirk, Amanda trailed her tongue up to his chest, more eager than ever to find out what would make him make that hitched breath deeper. He tasted like he smelled, too; that distinctive scent of him, now mixed with fresh soap. It filled her nostrils as much as her taste buds, turning her on more, a gentle tug pulsing in her depths.

She made her way upward slowly, taking her sweet time with lazy drawled kisses before she found his peaked nipples. She lingered there, played with his right nipple, her smirking smile still on her lips as Rick sucked in another breath. She couldn’t help herself. She grazed the sensitive skin with the tip of her teeth, glancing up at him.

Rick rewarded her with a sharp hiss out of his nose, his head tilted backward further. It was one of the sexiest sounds Amanda had ever heard—

And just then she heard another sound...a soft puff beside her.

Amanda froze, stilling over him and twisting her head aside to look at Judith as the baby girl let out another puff in sleep. Amada blinked a few times, lying motionlessly over him.

S-s-she was making out beside a baby.

She rolled off him and lay on her back.

What was wrong with her?

Was she that horny?

Scooting over to her, Rick rolled on his side, drawing up on his elbow as he half spooned her. His other hand gently brushed back her hair over her shoulder. He was silent for a while, just looking at her as Amanda gazed at the ceiling. In the end, he leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss with a soft smile.

“Let’s take a shower—” he whispered to her hoarsely. “You’re sweaty.”

She gave him a look before she glanced at Judith again over on his other side. “She’s still sleeping—” Rick whispered again, his eyes still on hers.

Feeling torn, Amanda turned to him as he trailed another chaste kiss over her jawline. She knew she was being seduced, and she was about to tell him to stop, but before she could, Rick murmured over her ear, “Listen.”

He stayed silent for a few seconds, then went on in the same throaty whisper, “All the house is silent. Everyone is still sleeping. We can hear her if she wakes up—” The tip of his tongue flicked under her earlobe. He knew well how it made her shiver.

As the shiver passed along her body, images assaulted her. Taking a shower with Rick, all wet and naked… Her eyes darted at him. “I promise I’ll behave—”

Amanda knew she was done when she realized, perhaps, she wouldn’t mind him misbehaving. She still felt torn, but well—

Rick took her hand and straightened up.

They climbed out of the bed as silently as possible, Rick dragging her to the bathroom, her hand in his.

Inside, he left the door open. Amanda felt a shyness come to her again when his glinting eyes roamed all over her as she stood on the cold tiles only in her chemise.

She knew her nipples perked up under the silk cloth with anticipation and morning chill, and she wasn’t surprised his eyes lingered there before he closed the distance between them. His hands gently rubbed her bare shoulders as he gave her a warm, reassuring smile. Something— a twisted cord uncoiled in her stomach with his smile.

Rick then slipped the thin straps over her shoulders, making the silk chemise pool around her feet on the tiles.

Swallowing lowly, Amanda took a step closer and slowly reached for his pajama pants. She wanted to do this. Dropping his arms at his sides, Rick let her undo the tiny knot of his pajama bottom before she eased it off him. His fingers looped around the tiny edges of her thong, sliding it over her bare legs. Amanda tucked her fingers inside his boxers waistline and eased them down to the tiles, too. Their eyes stayed glued on each other the whole time as they slowly undressed each other.

With another small smile, naked, Rick took her hand again, and they stepped into the shower. Amanda was still wearing make up from the night, but she still didn’t care. She hadn’t wanted to wipe it off last night after Beth applied it, and she didn’t want to break their moment now. The mascara she wore claimed to be waterproof, so she supposed they were going to see about it.

Rick adjusted the temperature, and like a cascade, warm water started pouring above their heads. Reaching out a hand, Rick angled the shower head, so they stood under the half of the spray of the waterfall. His dark curls plastered along the nape of his neck and the sides of his face, getting wet from the spray and hers along her shoulders.

More of the waterdrops slid over his five o’clock shadow, and he looked so handsome—so gorgeous… His hands held her at her waist, dipping his head for a kiss, so slow, so tender, Amanda felt she was melting under the downpour.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, their wet skin sliding over each other smoothly as they kissed, kissed, kissed—

Rick spun her in his arms suddenly, breaking the kiss, his arm holding her against his chest as the other reached out to take the sponge from the little shelf in the wall. He poured a gentle amount of honey milk body wash on the sponge and started washing her.

It was the first time someone had ever washed her. He was so gentle, so kind, and she was melting even further as the air inside the shower became dense with vapors of hot water—so hot, so warm… Amanda closed her eyes and felt herself sinking against his chest.

But Rick spun her around again, stepping an inch back, the foamy sponge gently brushing over her stomach this time, then he knelt in front of her. He trailed it over her legs, parting them a little as his hand slid between her thighs.

He raised his eyes to look up at her, and even before he did, Amanda realized what he was aiming to do. She shivered with anticipation as they stared at each other, his eyes now glinting like sapphire again.

Standing up, Rick quickly moved her back under the spray, bubbles washing off her body. Her back hit the the ceramic wall as he reached out and turned the shower head completely away from them.

Amanda shivered again with the sudden chill on her back and once more with anticipation as Rick knelt back between her legs and his head dipped, he kissed her down there, a soft, gentle kiss.

She trembled so violently at the brief contact, Rick looked up at her, tilting his head a little, and smiled. His smile though wasn’t gentle, not at all. It was wicked, almost dirty—and God.

Amanda couldn’t even remember the last time someone went down on her—and Rick—Rick doing it—even the thought itself sent another surge through her body just as Rick grabbed her hips to steady her before he started working on her.

Amanda closed her eyes, her moans becoming louder and louder as his tongue started accompanying his lips, tracing through her folds as Rick grabbed her right leg and draped it over his shoulder. Her head hit at the wall tiles, her eyes still shut closed, and god, it felt so good, so amazing. Then he found her clit, spreading her leg wider on his shoulder, and Amanda simply went to another world as his tongue started making quick flickers over it.

Her hand shot up, and blindly, she grabbed the shower stall to stay upright on her trembling leg, her hips bucking forcefully when Rick started sucking her, too. His hands were holding her so tightly now she felt his nails digging into her skin.

Her head bowing, Amanda half cracked her eyes open and looked at him. His head was moving with his motions in a studious, steady rhythm between her legs, one still swung over his shoulder as he tried to discover what made her buck against his face the most, what made her groan louder.

The sight of him was already enough, but when Amanda picked up her juices dripping over his already wet stubble, his hands like clamps on her widespread thighs… They were going to leave their marks, she knew.

I guess I’m just gonna suck you in the places no one but me can see…

Rick Grimes, always true to his word.

His mouth moved an inch away, and she almost protested, she was closing on the edge, so close—so close. She wanted her release. She wanted to come, god, she so wanted it, wanted him to make her come just like this! But her protests died in her throat when he licked over her folds before he started fucking her with his tongue as his thumb replaced his tongue over her clit. He moved it over her most sensitive spot with quick slides as his tongue fucked her.

God, it was so much, so fucking much, and so fucking good, she caught his shoulder with her hand in the last moment before she lost her balance. Still doing his thing, his eyes jerked up from between her legs to watch her intently. The way he looked—the way he looked at her—

Her legs finally failing her, Amanda started tumbling downward, couldn’t support herself anymore, but Rick caught her before she hit the shower base.

Sill holding her thighs, Rick gently eased her down then swung her other leg over his shoulder, too, as he rose on his knees, never breaking their contact nor stopping what he was doing to her.

Amanda arched up, her legs swinging over his shoulders against his back as the angle made his tongue dive deeper into her, his hand finding her clit again.

She was bucking, grinding against his face so needily, clenching his head between her thighs so wantonly, she was almost ashamed.

When you fucked people you didn’t care about, you also didn’t care how you looked, how they saw you—but but—Rick—how much she wanted him, how much she needed him… the way he made her feel… It was all swelling in her, in her chest, in her core, wanting to burst out, but she couldn’t concentrate on it, not when he was doing this to her, not when he was eating her out like this.

Yes, he was eating her out—eating her out like she was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

Amanda felt glad of the downpour, not only because it still sent sprays of water over them, but it also muffled her moans and groans as she came violently, clenching her thighs even tighter as that thing inside her burst out, the world blacking out.

Slumping back on the shower base, Amanda blindly drew up and rested her back against the tiles in the corner, her eyes still closed, her wet body still trembling. She felt shut down in a weird way, the euphoric release of her powerful climax leaving her almost in a limbo state with shivers. She felt limp, listless...wet, like a little puppy that had stayed in a downpour too long.

Forcing her eyes half open, she glanced at Rick. The shyness came over her again with an urge to pull her legs up to her chest to cover herself a bit. On the supply run, she hadn’t cared how she came undone with him, but now she didn’t know. It felt like something had shifted between them…changed. She tried to give him a smile as Rick gazed at her, his slitted eyes looking speculative.

Amanda turned her eyes away, rising to her feet, shutting down the thoughts. She reached for the shower head, and grabbing it, pulled it off. Directing the jet of water over his chin, she started rubbing his chin with her other hand.

She gave him a sheepish look seeing her juices still running over his stubble. “Sorry—” she mumbled. “Made a mess of you—”

His expression eased as he smiled at her again warmly in that way, getting closer. “Good that we’re already in shower.”

“Hmm hmm—” She tossed him a look. “And you said you were going to behave—”

He chuckled and Amanda relaxed further hearing the sound. He took another step, his hands taking a hold of her waist again as Amanda jetted the water over his body and glanced down.

His cock was still erect, hard in his arousal, but his lips were holding a playful smirk as he dipped his head, reaching out to her. “I’m behaving very well right now—”

His playfulness chased away all of the remnants of her odd unease and vulnerability after her orgasm, and Amanda giggled, raising the shower head at his face. “Liar—”

He caught her wrist and turned it at her. She shook her head at the sudden watery assault, the jet hitting her face as she retreated. Rick laughed at her reaction, still holding her wrist, walking in on her. “Rick!” she protested, holding his wrist back.

He let out a laugh. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Mandy—”

The words were light, and he was still laughing, but she wondered a split second if there was a hidden meaning in it. She slanted a look to him, then soft wheezing sounds started coming them from the bedroom.

Judith woke up. Their heads whipped toward the door as Rick quickly turned off the faucet. Amanda shot an accusing, playful glance at him, too. “And you woke her up—”

“Me?” Rick asked innocently.

She blushed. She hadn’t moaned that loud this time, had she? And the shower, it should muffle the sounds. If anyone were above them, they could hear them clearly, but this en-suite bathroom was tucked at the far corner securely away from the other rooms. Yet, she still glanced at Rick again as they hopped out of the shower.

He took the body towels from a cabinet as Amanda checked the mirror. Her under eyes were faintly smeared black with waterproof mascara, but it wasn’t so bad. They dripped water in a pool over the tiles beneath their feet as Rick wrapped a towel around her body after covering himself with another around his waist while Amanda dealt with the remains of the makeup.

Between her legs felt chaffed, almost aching after the intense attention Rick and his stubble gave to her.  The feeling though was…oddly satisfying.

She turned to Rick as he started patting her with the towel. “Rick,” she called out. “I—I wasn’t too loud, right?” Carl and Beth were just sleeping in the next room beside them. If they heard her. If Carl heard her again as they had sex…

Rick shook his head, his hands rubbing along her sides over the towel. “No, don’t worry. They wouldn’t hear you.” His eyes raised up to hers, getting heated again. “Otherwise, I would’ve kept you silent.”

They exchanged a look, Amanda feeling heat emitting out of her even further.

She was saved by the bell, or rather, the baby crying. Judith’s wheezing turned to soft cries as the baby girl realized she was alone in the bed. Quickly taking another towel to wrap around her hair, Amanda dashed out.

Securing the knot that Rick made under her arm, she scurried to the bed. Judith raised her arms as soon as she saw them, Rick following behind her. The baby was trying to crawl over the pillows that Rick had tucked between the mini crib and her.

Amanda smiled, shooting him a look over her shoulder. “She’s misbehaving like her daddy.”

Rick shook his head, cupping her ass again with one hand. “Her daddy was a very good boy this morning.”

“Uh huh.”

Over her shoulder, Rick leaned in and gave her cheek a quick kiss, pinching her ass lightly before he passed her, and leaning down, scooped up Judith.

“Good morning, baby gorgeous—” Raising his arms, he bounced her in the air, smiling a big smile, as Judith gave out happy giggles.

Amanda felt her core melt again, looking at them together, laughing with them. She reached out, trying to keep the baby stable. “Hey, you’re getting her wet—” she warned, still laughing.

He still had the towel wrapped around his hips, but the water drops were dripping over his chest, his chest hair plastered on his skin as more drops slipped from the end of his locks. He looked gorgeous. So much that Amanda played with the idea taking off his towel and sliding on her knees in front of him, too.

Outside she heard the doors open, and footsteps walked away in front of the master bedroom. Beth and Carl had woken up. A new day had started.

Amanda turned to the door, and the reality came back to her. She’d spent the whole night with Rick, and both Carl and Beth knew it. And Carl and Beth had spent the night in the same bed, too, and Amanda didn’t truly know how she felt about it.

Rick started drying his hair with a smaller towel he’d brought from the bathroom after he placed Judith into the crib. The play pen was still in the living room. Absently, Amanda thought of moving it upstairs in the room before she turned to Rick again.

“Rick—” she called out. “D-do you think something happened last night?” she asked slowly. “I mean—between Beth and Carl—”

His hand that was drying his hair stopped as Rick looked at her. “As in?”

Amanda nodded. Rick looked lost for a few seconds before lowering his hand with the towel at his side. “I—I think I’m not ready to think on that yet.”

“He’s fifteen, Rick—” she reminded him. “I saw boys younger than him that got girls pregnant.”

Rick gave her a look. “You’re not making it easier for me, Amanda.”

“I know. I’m the same. But Beth, well, you know how she is nowadays.” She sat down on the bed’s edge as Rick stayed up on his feet. She paused for a second before she confessed. “After Maggie’s death, she asked me for condoms.”

His eyebrows furrowed as Rick gave her another heavy look. “She said she didn’t want to die a virgin,” Amanda went on in a small voice. “Those bastards messed with her head. All that talk about being a virgin and dying,—and I—I once told her life is too short. She shot back at me with that, too.”

Rick heaved a sigh.

“I talked her out of it, saying she should wait until we find a place before she decides truly,” she continued. “Told her she wouldn’t want her first time being like that, with someone she doesn’t even know just to get it over with—” She darted her eyes away as Rick narrowed his, gazing at her. “She said then she would ask Carl.”

“What?” Rick muttered, his eyes widening.

“Yeah—” Amanda heaved a sigh, too, playing with a wrinkle over the sheet, bowing her head. “She said I was right. She couldn’t have it so casual, but Carl and she are friends.” She paused, clearing her throat as she raised her eyes up at him. “She said other stuff, too. You know, actually made a bit of sense, too…like how they endure this world together, be there for each other…”

“Yeah—” Rick bobbed his head slowly, walking to sit on the bed beside her.

Amanda scooted to make room him. “Maybe I—I should give her one…” she murmured. “If she decides or something. Never hurt to be prepared.”

Though, she herself wasn’t. The condoms she had found on the supply run were still inside her backpack. Amanda didn’t carry one herself now.

She wondered briefly what would’ve happened if they weren’t interrupted by Judith this morning, or she didn’t chicken out again in the shower but carried on. They would do it without condoms? Was she really ready for it? Hell, it didn’t even feel like she was ready for sex, let alone fucking him again without condoms like their first time. She couldn’t even imagine how that would make her feel now.

As she was dazzled off in her own musings, Rick was shaking his head. “No. Wait. I’ll talk to Carl first.” He put his hand over her knee lightly. “Learn what it was about last night.”

Gazing at his light touch on her knee, Amanda swallowed, bowing her head. “She possibly saw him going downstairs and asked to come in.” She paused again as Rick started rubbing her shoulder gently, moving his hand away from her knee. 

Amanda twisted to him. “Carl. Do you think he’s mad because I stayed with you last night?” she asked in a small voice, her eyes staring at him as she felt her defenses crumbling again. It was the same vulnerability she’d felt after her orgasm, for different reasons.

She turned away, shaking her head. She was getting better with Carl! She shot to her feet. First, her admission that she couldn’t take him out, couldn’t take that responsibility, and now this. She should’ve never stayed. Just should have gone back to her room as quickly as possible, so she couldn’t have the damn morning jitters.

Because it felt damn like one. Amanda had been always very careful how to deal with her casual affairs, always making sure she lined up a good way to bail out without a fuss. She hated bringing her flings into her home, taking almost strangers into her bed. It was her home, her own bed and sneaking out of the others’ houses was much easier than trying to send them out of yours.

And Amanda really hated dealing with the morning after.

She’d stopped one night stands because of the safety and health issues, understanding it wasn’t really her style, too much of a hassle just to get laid, too damn risky as well, but fuckbuddies had to remain in carefully arranged boundaries to make it work. Even the problems with Michael and their friends with benefits relationship started when Amanda didn’t let him stay overnight in her house, which ended up them having that talk about commitment, which made him finally call it quits when she said no.

Judith made a soft sound as if to whine at them for leaving her in the crib as they sat there silently, both lost in their own thoughts.

“Hey—” Rick called out, turning her to him, holding her at her upper arms. “Why don’t you go out to the track and run a bit?” he offered, dipping his head a little, giving her a small smile, his hands slowly moving over her arms. Amanda wondered if he felt her distress. “I'll talk with Carl first, then find you, okay?” he went on, his gaze still on her. “We'll make a round before I go to see Deanna.”

“Like old times?” she asked, looking up at him. “Making a patrol after my morning run?”

He pecked her on the lips. “Told you I missed our morning rounds,” he murmured to her, smiling as Judith stared at them intently.

They both drew back under the baby’s curiosity with seeing them snogging.

Amanda laughed lightly, feeling a bit better. “Someone is curious—” she remarked before she stood up and went to the bathroom to retrieve her chemise and thong. She couldn’t stand there naked and put them on in front of Rick while Judith was awake.

Though, she’d forgotten her robe on the foot of the bed. With a sigh, she slipped on the garments, noticing his fingermarks on her thighs. She knew the way he held her was going to leave its trace behind, but he was also right. Only he could see it.

Rick had already put on his jeans and his denim blue shirt and was cinching his belt when she walked out of the bathroom in the silk chemise. His eyes trailed after her wordlessly as Amanda trekked in front of him looking ahead. Judith was in the crib once again, playing with her stuffed giraffe. Amanda put on the robe, too, and started walking over to the door.

Rick followed her. He took her in his arms again beside the door, angling his head downward for a goodbye kiss. Suddenly, it was so hard to leave him again while they slowly kissed, to leave his warmth, the way his arms cocooned around her—so hard. She should move, but her feet weren’t listening to her will.

It was Rick who drew back a few minutes later, with that warm, kind smile. “Go now—” he told her, holding the door’s handle. “Blow your hair dry, too. It’s getting cold outside.”

She smiled at the way he sounded, making sure she didn’t get sick, her stomach making a flipflop on hearing the concern. She touched the side of his face as Rick half closed his eyes at the contact.

Amanda watched him again. Ricked liked these little affectionate gestures more than she realized, his light hand on her knee, her hand at his side under his shirt, gently stroking him. Amanda liked it, too, more than she would think, brushing her fingertips, enjoying the rugged sensation of his stubble as much as the silky texture of his hairy chest.

“Don’t shave—” she whispered, running her fingers along the end of his jawline. “I like your stubble.”

 “As you wish,” Rick said with a small smile, opening the door for her like a true gentleman.

Shaking her head at him, her lips curving in a small smile, Amanda poked her head out to make sure no one was outside in the corridor. She couldn’t take any encounter right now, not even with Joan or Carol. She started moving, but Rick stopped her, gripping her elbow lightly. “Don’t forget, you have a date tonight.”

Her stomach making another flipflop, her smile enlarging, Amanda nodded before she slipped out.

# # #

Watching her slip out of his grip, Rick closed the door with a sigh. He guessed that the morning had gone well. He’d done what he always wanted, too, tasted her truly, sucking her in the places no one but him could see. When she came back in her chemise, Rick had noticed the marks his fingers had left on her, and the sight of them made him feel that possessive streak once more as much as her wet, wasted look in the shower after her orgasm.

The way she came was one of the most beautiful sights Rick had ever seen, the way she ground against his face with need, her thighs tightening on his head like clamps to get him further in her depths, directing his head to her secret places just like Rick wanted.

He wanted her like this, letting herself go completely with him, lowering her guard. He always wanted to see her naked, out of her armor, trusting him enough to be open. It hurt him when she drew away. Rick was opening up to her, letting her see him with his guard down, without his own armor. He might be bumping along the way, but he wanted them to be like this, sleeping in each other’s arms like this. Make love and sleep in each other’s arms the whole night. Each night. Each morning.

The need was there. Perhaps he was moving too quickly again, but Rick wanted it. After last night, that need wasn’t something he could ignore anymore. Though, Amanda wasn’t ready. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was ready, either. Feeling a need, a craving, was different than being ready for it. And there was Carl, there was Judith, Beth—

Rick stopped for himself and repeated what she kept saying. What they kept saying. Time. They needed time. She’d opened up herself last night, too, and this morning, let him have her like this. Afterward, Rick became worried for a few minutes that they were going to have another episode, but she got out of it.

 Perhaps they could finally get over it tonight. Amanda was truly like a spoiled kitten, having her claws retracted when she was well taken care of and soothed down. She wanted to be with him as strongly as Rick wanted her. She would have never slept with him like last night if she didn’t. Tonight, Rick would pamper her, cook her dinner, and bring her flowers, a whole bouquet again. He would even find a few candles and light them, perhaps even cushions and blankets? They could sit on the ground like a picnic.

He could find a place somewhere inside, somewhere warm and cozy enough, flirt with her, pat her down, then ease her on her back… She would give in then. This morning they almost did it.

If Judith hadn't been in the bed with them, they were going to do it. Rick felt it. He remembered the feel of her lips on his skin, how her fingers traced across his chest and his stomach. God, he wanted her hands there, slipping under his shirt unconsciously, caressing him absently. It’d been too long—too long.

Yeah. Tonight, they would do it. Amanda would bring her condoms, too. She must feel like him, feel the anticipation. Tonight was going to be their night. He buckled his duty belt, looping the machete at his left hip. Even though his holster at his right hip was empty, Rick still liked feeling it. He approached the crib and picked up Judy while his baby girl was playing with the giraffe.

“Like the little giraffe?” he asked, tucking her at his side, looping his left arm.

He’d already checked her bottom before he started putting on his clothes, so they were good to go. He played with Judy for a little while, tossing her in the air to make her sputter into giggles before he started heading out of the room. “Let’s go find something to eat, honey bun—”

The nickname reminded him of Amanda. Made of honey and cinnamon, it was how Amanda tasted, how she smelled. His smile quirked up further, thinking of that, perhaps, perhaps instead of pancakes, she could make him honey buns.

Or Rick could make her honey buns.

He could feed her honey buns with his own fingers after the dinner, and then Rick could get his own dessert. Taste her honey bun. His thoughts were starting to sprawl a bit too dirty for a man who was carrying his baby girl in his arms, so he cut them off and stepped out.

He climbed down the steps and headed into the kitchen. Carol was inside, preparing breakfast, and Rick picked up the cinnamon scent again. Looking around, Rick saw the oatmeal with cinnamon and honey left on the counter. Amanda had already left the house, but left him and Judith breakfast as Rick got ready.

The notion made him smile as Rick sat Judith in the highchair they’d found at the daycare. Drawing back, Rick turned to Carol. “Carol, do you have any program you need to attend after midday? Late afternoon?”

Turning to him, Carol gave him a look, almost mocking. “Well, I haven’t started socializing yet, but yeah, that has been my thought, too—” she said casually.

Rick stared at her. Carol sighed. “You know go around, chatter. Be the kind, gentle lady everyone wouldn’t mind talking to—” Looking all motherly and affectionate as she prepared another bowl of porridge, Carol smiled at him kindly before the smile dropped off her face a second later, and her face became stoic once more. “Someone needs to dig around here. And I’m the best viable option.”

Curtly nodding, Rick accepted. “Yeah.”

“Why do you ask?”

Suddenly Rick felt like he was fifteen or something and was asking something of his mother. The notion was ludicrous, but it tensed him. He cleared his throat. “Uh—I want to cook dinner for Amanda tonight. But I’d like some help if you’re available.”

A kinder look returned to Carol’s eyes, but this time it wasn’t fake. She smiled at him with a small, genuine smile. “What are you going to do?”

“I was thinking of a casserole—” Rick replied. “And honey buns for dessert. Can we make it?” he asked, gesturing at the supplies on the counter with his head.

Carol arched an eyebrow as Carl’s voice suddenly remarked behind him. “Honey buns—” Rick heard his son’s astonishment in his baffled tone. “You wanna make honey buns, dad?”

Rick turned around. “Uh, I’m gonna cook for Amanda tonight, son.”

How Carl felt about that was clear in the way he clenched his jaw even without a word. Silently, his son walked to the island. Rick brought the oatmeal from the side of the stove to him, adding a spoon and setting it on in front of him. Carol silently slipped out of the kitchen, leaving them alone.

“She’s gonna stay with you now?” Carl asked, his head bowed, taking the spoon. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch in the living room?”

“Don’t be absurd—” Rick almost snapped, even though that was actually what he wanted, her staying with him, without Carl sleeping on the couch part, of course. They could arrange something.

“She came because of Judith and left after she went to sleep—” he told his son truthfully, his eyes finding his. “But she saw you bunking with Beth, so she came back.”

To his credit, Carl’s cheeks blushed. “Uh—she—she saw me going downstairs. Said she was bored. We talked,” he explained. “I was going to leave, but she said she didn’t want to be alone—” He paused, giving Rick an accusing look. “And Amanda still hadn’t returned yet. It’d had been almost an hour.” His voice turned colder. “Took you long to calm down Judith.”

“Carl—”

“I’m just trying to understand if I’ll really get kicked out of the room, dad.”

Rick fixated the teenager a cool look. “You’re as good as fifteen, already started sleeping with girls in the same bed. Perhaps you really should move out.”

As the words left him, Rick also realized how true they were. Carl was turning fifteen the next month, a proper teenager now. Sharing his personal space with a baby and with his dad didn’t sound to him like the best idea. His son needed some privacy. He took a step towards him and placed his hand on his boy’s shoulder. “Son, if you need some privacy—”

“Oh, you really want to get me out from under  your feet!” Carl shook his hand off his shoulder with a scoff, pushing the bowl in front of him away.

“Carl!”

His son’s cool blue eyes found Rick. “Our photo—” he remarked with a voice as cool as his eyes. “It stayed in the prison. I want it back.”

For a second or so, Rick couldn’t understand what Carl was talking about before the penny dropped. Their family photo, the only photo Carl had remaining of Lori. “Son—” Rick started, softening his voice. “The prison is five hundred miles away and overrun. We can’t go back.”

“We can—” Carl insisted, his eyes never wavering. “It’s risky, but we have to take the chance. Others would want to do it, too. Beth wants her father’s Bible—” Again, for a second, Rick wondered to whom this crazy-ass plan actually belonged to for real. “We have to get them back.”

“Carl—” Rick tried to reason with the teenager once more, keeping his voice placid. “It took us weeks to get here. Weeks. We can’t go back—” he repeated, putting an emphasis in his words. “We can’t.”

If there was a way, any way, to get that photo back for Carl and Judith, Rick would bring down the mountains and boil the oceans to make it possible, but there wasn’t. They simply couldn’t look back anymore.

“Carl—” Rick tried again to make Carl understand, but glaring at him angrily, Carl pushed to his feet, dragging the stool over the kitchen’s tile floor, scraping to make how he felt clearer, not that Rick would need any more indication for that.

“It was mom’s only photo—” his son hissed. “Her only photo. Judy’s never gonna know her now, dad.” Carl’s stark blue eyes found his again before he turned around. “But I guess you don’t care about that much anymore.”

# # #

The bedroom was empty like Amanda had already expected. Empty and tidy. Even the bed was made again, and no sign of Beth and Carl. After changing into the yoga pants and a crop top sweater she’d seen in one of the drawers, Amanda stepped out of the room and headed to the bathroom to dry her hair a bit before she went to the kitchen.

Rick was right. It was getting colder, best not to leave the house with wet hair. It almost brought a smile to her lips—Rick fretting over her. It was cute and was making her feel those flipflops again. Between her legs still felt sore, especially her hidden spot Rick had played a bit more roughly, nibbling at her sensitive flesh as he drove her mad. Even the thought of it made her feel strange again. Getting down to business, Amanda chased away the memory and quickly stirred oatmeal, mixing dried fruits with honey and cinnamon. She left it by the stove for Rick and Judith after taking herself a bowl.

Carol came in to fix the breakfast for Mika as Amanda started to leave the kitchen, but there were no signs of the others. The living room was deserted. “Did you see Beth?” she asked Carol.

The older woman nodded absently, pouring water into a glass. “Yeah, she’s with Glenn.”

Amanda gave a nod herself, quickly downing a few spoonfuls of porridge.      

“You going running?” Carol asked.

She bobbed her head, remembering Carol had never seen her running at the prison, because the woman wasn’t there. “Yeah—” Taking another spoonful, she swallowed the warm mash. “Mika—” she began, “How is she?”    

Carol sent her a terse look, sipping from her water. “How do you expect?” she retorted. “She’s managing.”

“I wish I could do more for her after—after—” She swallowed again even though she wasn’t gulping anything. “After Lizzie,” she went on, straightening her back a little. “She—she witnessed something terrible.”

Mika had never looked like she’d been very bothered, but things had been hard for a long time. Perhaps she should see that psychologist. The notion irked her, but they were still out of their depths regarding such a trauma. Perhaps even Beth should see the therapist. A shiver almost passed through her, imaging to open up that to Beth. 

“Do you think she should see the psychologist of the town?” Amanda slowly asked for Carol's opinion.

The older woman gave her a long look, before smiling that way of hers, a bit kind, a bit cool, a bit stern. “I think we all should see a shrink—” she commented, “But no. Best wait to see how she’ll settle. We should tread carefully before spilling the beans.”

Amanda nodded. She knew it wasn’t a good idea. Things between the townspeople and them were strained since the beginning. Aside from the Reese sisters and people Deanna had appointed them, no one had come yet. They were watching them warily from afar. Amanda could share the sentiment. Perhaps they were still waiting for their probation time to be over to mingle with them. She recalled the talk they had last night on the porch before she got sidetracked with Rick. Either we find a common ground, or else we take it.

God, they’d been here what—three days and already started planning a mutiny. Then Joan walked into the kitchen, her expression as cold as ice. She looked like she didn’t sleep a wink last night. Amanda felt the pressure weigh heavier, suppressing a sigh.

She wanted to leave the house and cool off. The need was rising strong in her, everything becoming too much again. If she saw Carl now too—nope.

She jerked her head at Joan as a greeting and ushered herself out. Outside, the chilly morning air of late October hit her, and Amanda really felt better. She pulled her hair up in half-ponytail, feeling the still wet roots. She hoped she wouldn’t get sick, but she didn’t care. She wanted to run now. She felt her feet almost itching.

She eyed the red tarmac, and of course, the ditzy blonde was on the tracks just like always.

Ignoring her as she vanished at the other side of the track, Amanda stepped out, too. She kept a slow pace first, a simple trotting for warming up. She felt the wind cracking at her face more as she circled the track. Ahead of her, Beatrice was running with a steadier pace, but Amanda dutifully kept their distance. The chatty woman was all for the chatter, and Amanda wasn’t in the mood.

But it felt good, being on the track, feeling the wind at her face as she ran, the town slowly stirring up from its slumber. Her feelings were still in turmoil, but this was simple. She just ran. She picked up a pace a bit faster as she warmed up more, still not tiring herself on the first day, letting her muscles get accustomed again. She needed time before she could reach to her utmost agility again.

Time—

She cursed inwardly. She was beginning to hate that word, too! Speeding up, Amanda tried to push away the thoughts, only letting herself focus on the next step, even though she still felt that aching soreness between her legs.

On her next lap, Beatrice fell in beside her, slowing her pace. Amanda almost groaned, but kept it inside at the last moment.

“Hey, you’re a runner, too?” the girl asked, breathing laboriously, her lavish ponytail at the top of her head swinging with each step. Amanda’s own half up ponytail must be swinging in the same way, just less pretentiously. Everything Beatrice Reese did had that pretentious dramatic artistry. Last night, Amanda had felt so womanly, so feminine in the silk lingerie and robe, but now beside Beatrice, there was none of it. She felt as blunt and curt as ever.

She never ran like Beatrice. Beatrice had an idle, languorous rhythm as she ran, whereas Amanda ran like she was preparing for war.

The idea bugged her, and she shot a look over to the blonde. “Yeah—” she said curtly and wondered if it would be terribly rude of her if she just passed her by, hastening her pace. As tempting as the idea sounded, Amanda kept her pace with Beatrice's.

“Do you work out?” Beatrice asked, taking her silence for an interest in small talk. “I do. Pilates. Sometimes yoga, too,” she chattered on, jumping on her feet lightly as they halted.

“We have a yoga studio and a reformer machine in the gym, but no one other than me really utilizes them.” The way Beatrice said that felt like she thought of it like one of the seven sins. “Clarice dances ballet, but I think she hates it,” she went on, her brows pinching. “Aiden and his gang usually just hit the boxing ring. Sometimes Pete joins them, too. Men—” she breathed out with a scoff, completely stilling. “Getting all sweaty and testosterony.”

“You have a boxing gym, too?” she said, her head whipping at the younger woman.

Amanda hadn’t still seen the gym completely, but the idea of a boxing gym intrigued her more than yoga and Pilates at the moment. They were good to get in shape and build muscle strength, endurance, and elasticity when she started her training class, but boxing…

She needed to get better. Train harder. She’d sat down on her ass long enough. What had happened in the woods could not happen again. Never. Never again.

She couldn’t have fought, couldn’t have held her ground against two people at the same time! Amanda was going to learn how to stand against three. She’d become a bit better in the woods for tracking and hunting during the weeks after the church, but she was going to get better.

She should start looking for her training field, start preparing. They had to be prepared. Always. Rick was right on that. They couldn’t lose this place, this security, but they had to be prepared.

With a curt nod, she left the girl, not caring if she was rude or anything, then went on circling the track. Less than half of an hour later, Rick found her. His expression was nothing like in the morning, his jaw was set, his expression stern. Amanda realized their realities had really kicked back in.

He must’ve had another spat with Carl. Not that Amanda was surprised. She knew the teenager wasn’t going to like this.

She almost heaved a sigh as Beatrice passed them by, halting in her steps on seeing Rick, too. “Good morning, Sheriff—” she cooed flirtingly and wriggled an eyebrow at him. “Found any skeletons in the closets?”

Amanda turned her head aside, a clear dismissive gesture if anyone would care to read. She wondered if Beatrice was…reading. Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda picked up Rick’s look as it was directed at the heiress, but there was no humor in his expression.

“No, not yet—” Rick answered stiffly.

Not taken back with his cold answer as she moved backward, Beatrice threw a cocky smile at him. “Not surprising,” she laughed out, her voice almost melodical. “We’re a bunch of very boring people.” With a little wink, she turned and started running off again.

Amanda turned and stared at Rick. He shrugged; his expression still tense. “You talked with Carl?” Amanda asked, moving her attention completely away from the ditzy heiress.

Rick bobbed his head a little. “Yeah.”

“I assume it didn’t go well—”

“Not only that—” he replied. “He said he wants to go back to the prison.”

To her credit, Amanda managed to swallow down a curse. “Wh—what?”

Rick nodded again, looking over to her. “Beth, too—” he went on. “I think it even might be her idea.” And why wasn't Amanda surprised? “Carl said she wanted to retrieve her father’s Bible, and Carl wants to find Lori’s photo.” Rick slanted her a look to see her reaction. A twinge in her chest tugged, but Amanda schooled her expression not to let it show.

“There was a photo of all of us he brought from home when we returned to my county looking for guns before,” Rick explained. “Carl wants it for Judith. He became angry when I said we can’t return. He—he said—” Rick continued quietly, “he doesn’t have anything else to show Judy how her mother looked like.”

Her jealousy fading, it left in its place a sadness. Amanda looked at him, sudden tears threatening to break over. “I’m sorry—” she muttered, not knowing what else to say.

Bowing his head, Rick gave her another half nod. “We can’t. We can’t go back,” he whispered, his hoarse voice not laden with lust like last night, but full of weariness. She moved in on him and brushed her fingers over the side of his face, not caring who would see them.

Rick looked up at her, his head still bowed as Amanda stroked him gently, knowing that affectionate gesture would distract him from his weary, dark thoughts. She could at least do that much for him.

“Amanda—” Rick whispered, almost closing his eyes at her touch, moving his head slightly over her fingers, his voice so heavy with things they had left unsaid between them.

She opened her mouth. She didn’t know what to say—what she could say—but she still felt she had to do something—do something…

Loud clamors rang in the air. Their heads whipped around at the sounds as they realized it was coming from the main gate.

The next second, they started running to the gate.

Some things never really changed; Amanda thought to herself with a snicker as they ran at top speed just before his name started echoing too—

“RICK!”

This time it was Sasha and Bob, coming down from the bell tower. Amanda had heard the woman saying this morning she was going to check it. “What happened?” Rick asked. “Walkers?”

Sasha shook her head. “I saw from up there—” she waved her head at the bell tower. “It’s Daryl and Joan!”

Then Amanda understood. She swallowed down a curse. They—they just couldn’t wait! Rick said he was going to talk to Deanna!

When they arrived, Daryl was already upon a man Amanda hadn’t met yet. He must be one of the guards, as he had a gun. Inside the walls, no one was allowed to be armed, but on duty, the guards were to carry firearms. The man looked angry and foolishly was about to get a fight with Daryl.

“She’s comin’ with me—” Daryl roughed out, hitting the man’s chest with his own. “Another word from you, I knock your teeth out.”

Amanda arched an eyebrow as Daryl really looked like he was about to carry on with the threat, too. It was curious. Much like herself, under his surly roughness, Daryl had that simmering violent part he kept well repressed, but Amanda had seen the way the hunter lost his cool a couple of times in the woods and beat the shit out of the rotters.

It was as wild and savage as Rick’s beastly side, but Amanda had never seen Daryl getting that confrontational with anyone before. Usually, he would just send a seething glare and bark some surly, sassy comment with his heavy accent, and usually, it was enough.

But not this time. The guard shook his head. “I told—”

Daryl’s arm raised— “Daryl!” Amanda screamed just as at the same time Rick lunged forward.

Rick grabbed the rising arm, fingers already fisted, before it collided into the man in front of him, towing Daryl into a hold. “Easy, man—” Rick hollered, trying to drag him away.

“You can’t keep her inside!” Daryl shouted as Rick still tried to drag him by force.

“Deanna’s word!”

“I don’t care!” Daryl broke Rick’s grip and charged at the man again, but grabbing him at his neck once more, Rick pulled him back and threw him aside.

“Both of you—” Rick yelled as Amanda moved to Joan. “Stop!”

“Joan! What are you doing here?” she asked with a rough whisper, tossing the nurse a terse glance.

Three days! Three fucking days! They just couldn't last three days before things became complicated again at all fronts!

“I’m not going to stay in!” Joan spat with the same ire as Rick wrestled with Daryl to keep him contained as more people from the town joined to watch the scene they were making. “I will NOT!”

“We won’t—” Amanda started, but she was cut off again, this time by Aiden Monroe as he arrived with the newcomers.

“What the hell is happening here?”

The guard turned to his leader. “The nurse wants to go to the woods—” he spat. “They said they’re going to set up snares.”

“Snares?” Turning to Rick and Daryl, Aiden sounded surprised. “For god sake, why do you want to set up snares?” he asked, shaking his head. “We have food.”

Rick let Daryl got and the hunter walked up on Aiden. “Because I damn well want't.”

“You go—” Aiden replied, looking back at Daryl coldly before he jerked his head at Joan. “She stays. Mother’s orders.”

Daryl took a step forward, and Aiden flicked a look at Rick. “You get a grip on your people, Grimes."

This time it was Rick who started stalking the younger man, pushing Daryl back. “And you, too, Monroe—” Rick rasped, his eyes glinting with that sharp edge as he glared at Aiden.

Amanda decided that it was high time to cut off all the testosterone leaking out of them. She walked between them just at the moment Deanna’s voice came from behind her.

“That’s ENOUGH!” They all turned to face the town’s leader. “Everyone. Move out.” She fixed a look at all three men. “No one leaves today. Aiden—” She looked at his son. “I told you I want your report on my desk this morning.” Her eyes shifted to the guard. “You—get back to your post.”

She turned to the crowd after that. “All of you, go back to your houses. Rick—come with me. It appears we need to have another talk.”

With that, the old woman spun on her heel and walked away. One by one, everyone listened to the orders, started leaving, even Daryl.

Rick’s eyes moved to her, and they shared a glance before he started following Deanna.

Notes:

And, here starts the first of Rick's many 'summoned to the principle office' talk with Deanna. Hehe. Poor guy. With the issues of his people are dealing, I guarentee you there're gonna more summons like these :)
As you can guess, things have started becoming heated again as all of their issues start leaking.
More will come, and the next arc is going to cover Amanda and Rick's date! Finally!

Now, I'm back to dealing with Rick and Pete. Joy. Heh. Like always, please leave a comment if you're still reading and enjoying. It really motivates me. Thank you.

Chapter 9: 'Dating in the apocalypse'

Summary:

Both Amanda and Rick prepare for their date. Rick also finds a present for Amanda.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Instead of the living room where Deanna Monroe had the interview, she led Rick upstairs. Rick had already understood that their houses were different even with the limited vista he had by judging her spacious living room at the first floor, but upstairs was like another world.

There were many rooms. Rick spied five doors before Deanna headed towards the one at the far corner on the east side. Rick couldn’t know if they were rooms or bathrooms, but something was telling him most of them were bedrooms. She opened the door to a room smaller but a bit cozier than those downstairs. It had an elegant designer walnut study table with dark black metallic feet, with a matching small set of bookshelves beside it on the left side against the wall. In front of the table, there was a pair of black leather armchairs and a small black glass coffee table between them. There was a round walnut dining table beside another floor length window, tucked in the corner, circled with four black chairs and a matching black leather couch with the armchair.

The whole room was decorated like all the rest of the house; elegant, expensive, a mixture of classic and modern, but this one had something that stood out like a sore thumb, something that caught his attention when Rick stepped inside. It was a small backboard that hung on the wall behind the table. On the board, there was only a number: seventy-one.

The old number must’ve been erased recently, and another number written down because Rick could see the remnants of the white chalk over the black where the number was. It didn’t take a genius to understand it was a count, but Rick couldn’t be sure of what.

Rick recalled the way Amanda had been counting the days without an accident, and her thirtieth day—how it’d ended. The feeling of failure and guilt found him again, but Rick didn’t let his feelings make his thoughts go astray. Deanna was right. They really needed to have this talk. Then tonight he would have his dinner with Amanda. His eyes turned to the blackboard again as he sat on the armchair in front of the desk.

Deanna settled on her own chair behind her desk, her eyes on him, but understanding where his attention was set.

“It started with eight—” the old woman announced with a cool voice. “It was after the military left and didn’t return,” she went on, her voice having a weariness to it that Rick could recognize in himself. “We were here, but there were so few of us. We didn't know what to do or not to do—” She uttered the words with a small, bitter smile. “My staff. We were together on the road but got separated before we were directed here. I worked with them for years. My team, my aides, my staff. I didn’t know how the world would work without them.” She swallowed, shaking her head. “I felt like I lost my limbs, parts of my body, felt crippled. Reg found me one night while I was smoking out on the porch, just staring in the dark. I was depressed.”

As Rick listened to the Alexandria’s leader’s story silently, the old woman’s eyes slanted him a look. “I had a detail, he was with me for years, protecting me. He was always there, guarding my back. He was a very taciturn man, didn’t like talking, but when he did, he told you things very simply.” She gave him another gentle smile. “Sometimes you remind me of him, Rick.”

Rick didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t speak. Deanna went on. “Reg told me then that before we separated Root had told him that death is certain, life is not.” She heaved a sigh. “He was that kind of man, never giving up. I wrote that in this room that night on a small piece of paper, put it in my pocket, and I still carry it all the time.”

She pushed herself upward an inch, her hand moving downward before she brought up a piece of paper to show him. Settling down, she put it back. “I started counting that day. Found this board from the daycare—” She pointed at the blackboard behind her back. “Brought it here and wrote down eight. Eight people. The next morning Reg and I started planning the wall.”

In silence, bowing his head, Rick nodded.

“Three days ago, I came up here after settling you in the houses,” the woman continued. “Wiped it off and wrote down seventy-one. And I only intend to increase that number, Rick.”

Twisting his head aside, his neck still angled down, Rick looked up at her. “Then we both want the same thing.”

The woman gave him a curt nod. “I know. But I feel like you still haven’t understood how we do things around here.”

Rick shook his head, drawing back, his eyes lit. “You can’t keep people inside,” Rick retorted. “They have to learn. They have to learn how to survive.”

“Yes—” Deanna replied coolly. “You mentioned that, and I agreed. When Officer Shepherd starts her training lessons, Joan can join—”

Rick cut her off. “It’s not the same—” he said briskly. “They have to be out. See it themselves. All of them. You have people here have never been outside the walls!”

Deanna’s expression turned sterner. “They have no business outside.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Deanna—” Rick rasped out, leaning towards her over the desk, his eyes narrowing. “I’m so valuable that I can’t be outside doing legwork, Joan can’t go out because she’s a medical official, a valuable asset?” Rick leaned even further, staring at her eyes sternly. “First priorities?” he asked. “I heard about your list.”

The old woman’s gaze grew cooler. “Before we left D.C—” she spoke. “It was already done. The word was that they even lost the White House.” She paused to let her words sink in, but Rick didn’t need any reprieve. He already knew it was a lost cause. “I’m not stupid. I know what we face here. It’s a fight for the survival of our kind. And each life counts. In every way they’re capable.”

She made a little pause before she continued placidly. “Joan is a certified surgical nurse. She’s got experience. I’ve also got a surgeon, and a psychologist, and now also a medic, but alcoholic. That way they both are useless to me as trainees. Joan is not. Bob can go out. Joan cannot. I need Pete to immediately start training her so they both can start training other people with basics. Time isn’t at our side. We’re playing a losing hand, Rick, and the odds aren’t on our side, either. We can’t risk that. We have to maintain knowledge.”

“Yes, but it doesn’t make much difference when you’re out if you don’t know how to survive,” Rick retorted, recalling his words to Hershel. “Things being good in here doesn't change how things are out there.”

Her eyes fixated on his, Deanna clasped her hands in front of her, her elbows resting on the desk, and rubbed them as she took what he said in stride. “She can only go into the woods, not on runs—” she finally said, her tone holding a note of exasperation. She rested her linked fingers above her lips. “Always either with you or Daryl.” Rick gave a curt nod. “If something happens to her, Rick, I’ll be…severely displeased.”

“She’s one of my family,” Rick said, not having any qualms uttering the word. He wasn’t close to the nurse, but Amanda was. Joan had also saved Amanda and the others’ life in Grady, and Daryl—Daryl seemed to have…a thing for her going on. Joan was one of his people now.

“Good.” Deanna unlinked her hands and gave him another look. “She and Daryl?” the older woman asked. “Are they together?”

Rick scowled. “It’s none of your business—” he bit off again, but tilting her head aside, the old woman just stared at him.

“I thought we already cleared this up,” she remarked, this time letting her sigh escape. “A community is like a body, Rick,” she continued. “We’re all connected. Every move we make, every choice we take. The leader is the brain of any institution. And what is the brain good for?”

Leaning down, she reached down to the side drawers on the desk and brought out a thick, very thick dossier. Inside it, Rick could see many paper folders. He knew he had one under his name inside, just like everyone else.

“It’s the assessment, assortment, and classification of every person inside these walls,” she answered her question as her hand patted the dossier on the desk. “That’s what my dossier is, Rick. The brain of our community.”

He scoffed. “To decide whose lives are expendable.”

“And you kill people regardless—”

“Some people are far better off dead for everyone’s sake.”

“And you think you can be the judge of that?” Deanna asked, arching an eyebrow.

His voice was clipped as much as her words. “Sometimes someone has to.”

The old woman laughed a little at that, linking her arms over the desk before she leaned forward. “Maybe I just should send you to Denise—” she mused out slowly. “The thought has crossed my mind. You always see the glass as empty. You all do.”

The kind warning clouded with stark humor soured his mood further. “No one is going to therapy unless they ask for it.”

Deanna laughed again and patted the dossier again. “This is—” the old woman said. “To ensure what we could leave for the next generation. Our legacy. You would’ve entered into my list even if I didn’t prefer you to be inside. No, just because you’ve managed something many wouldn’t dare anymore. A baby. That alone makes you my first priority, Rick.”

Rick stood up, not correcting her; Judith’s biological parentage wasn’t an issue he would share with the woman, even though Rick had never become sure of it. He’d just taken Lori’s word for it and locked away any dissenting voices within him. Either way, Rick understood what Deanna had meant.

It wasn’t only that the idea irked him. He’d killed so many people now he hardly stopped to think about the value of life anymore. As harsh as it sounded, Rick would kill anyone without blinking if he thought they had to be dead, and some people were really far better off dead.

No, what worried Rick was who Deanna would decide in the end were expendable for her. His admission was still there. As long as the woman understood who Rick thought weren’t expendable for him, they would be good. If not…

Rick let the thought disintegrate in the emptiness of his mind. If there was something that today made clear, it was that Deanna didn’t test him further, but let Joan go. She had compromised and found a common ground.

He started walking to the door feeling their conversation had come to an end, but Deanna stopped him before he passed the leather armchair. “I think there’s still something else we should discuss.”

Rick turned to the old woman, cocking an eyebrow. “I believe we need someone to act like…an ambassador to make the adjustment and transition between your group and the townspeople a bit easier.” Hearing the words, Rick scowled further. “More precisely,” she concluded. “You need a partner.”

“No, I don’t—” Rick replied, staring at the woman, but she continued as if he didn’t interrupt.

“I thought at first Officer Shepherd, but she assured me that it’s best to keep you both apart workwise.” Rick tried not to react to the words, as a part of him still rioting at the idea. The fact that she was going to go out there without him, perhaps even daily rankled.

“Aaron mentioned Glenn.” His attention snapped back to the woman. “He said he was the one who cut off his ties when you were attacked. I think it would be good for him, too—” she went on conversationally. “Granted, he didn’t…talk much in his interview, but I think it’d be a good choice. Besides, I want you to focus more on the overall security than policing the town.”

Mulling the idea over in his mind, Rick thought about it. Glenn needed something to do, something to occupy him. After Rick had lost Lori, he’d turned into a mess too, but the prison and the conflict with the Governor had pulled him back to his feet. Glenn needed some kind of…distraction, too. And Deanna was right. They needed an ambassador, policing the town peacefully, and Glenn had always had kindness inside him no matter what. It made him the right choice.

The Korean man had a way with people Rick didn’t. It was a good choice. All things considered, he still had to admit teaming up with Glenn would work better than trying to work with Amanda.

Giving a nod in acceptance, Rick walked to the door, but Deanna stopped him once again as he gripped the doorknob. “There’s something else I want you to see—” the woman called out, standing up herself. She came to his side and gave him one of her smiles.

“Come—” she commanded as Rick opened the door. She led him to the living areas downstairs. “I wasn’t sure before, but Olivia found it this morning—” Deanna continued. “Olivia is our manager who is responsible for the pantry and armory.”

As his attention piqued further, Rick started listening carefully. He’d already learned where the armory was. It was one of the smaller houses in front of the community center. One of Aiden Monroe’s men was standing guard in front of it now, and Olivia must be the plump dark-haired woman Rick spied going around.

When they walked inside the room, Rick saw a sheriff’s uniform draped over the back of a chair. Halting in his steps, Rick looked at it. A few items were missing; there was no hat or duty belt, and no badge, but it was definitely a county sheriff’s uniform.

“We found it in the earlier days. I keep the houses we don’t use as we found them, and we don’t clear them out completely until something is needed, but we took this when we found it,” Deanna started explaining as Rick stared at the dark beige, long-sleeved shirt and olive green pants. There was a matching jacket with the shirt. “Unfortunately, there’s only one, but I think it’s your size. We can tailor it if you want. We’ve got a tailor, too.”

Running his hand over the shirt, Rick gave another absent nod. “Thank ya.”

Deanna smiled at him as if she actually meant it. “You’re really the sheriff of the town now.” 

# # #

After Rick left with Deanna, the townspeople started scattering when they understood the show was finished. Amanda glared at their backs as they slowly strode away. Sasha returned to the bell tower, towing Bob along.

Joan was still silently seething beside Daryl, but the hunter nudged at her a second later, sending Aiden and the guard the same kind of dire looks before they strode off as well. Amanda decided to follow their example. She better have a talk with Joan. Inwardly, she sighed. There were so many things to discuss, so many talks they had to have.

She needed to talk to Beth again, as well as find Joan and see what the deal really was here. This—this wasn’t only about going out. No. Joan was always a level-headed woman. She didn’t react this way. There was a reason why Amanda had thought of her to seduce Gorman to get him to cool down. Not everyone could handle a man like Gorman. Just like how she wasn’t able to handle a man like Rick.

The thought soured her mood even more, so sending another glare at Aiden and his men, she started walking, too. God, there were so many issues. Perhaps Joan was just suffering from PTSD. Perhaps they all were dealing with it. By the looks of things, Amanda wasn’t sure anymore.

Rick couldn’t sleep. Beth was acting out. Carl wanted Rick to go on a crazy supply run all the way to Georgia. Joan was openly confronting orders. Amanda was still having phantom muscle pain with anxiety.

As soon as the thought appeared in her mind, Amanda realized it wasn’t fully correct. She’d woken up this morning without any pain. With their shenanigans in the bed, it’d slipped her mind, but it was the first time in weeks she’d woke up without strained muscles like a drawn bow.

The implication was quite clear, but she didn’t want to think about that. She just needed to find Beth and Joan, to have a talk. And Mika. She had to see the girl, too. In the woods, she’d tried not to think of Lizzie, especially after Carol had joined them, but as Carol knew it, she couldn’t delay it any longer. Mika seemed normal, but Amanda knew damn well seeming normal didn’t mean everything was okay. She had to be sure.

She started hastening her pace before Aiden stopped her. “Hey, Amanda—” Amanda almost groaned, but halted her steps, turning around as the man jogged to her side. “About what happened—”

Amanda cut him off. “You just made it worse, Aiden,” she said in a clipped tone. “You should’ve stayed away.”

“These are my people—” Aiden confronted her. “Daryl was going to punch Jeff. And going out for snares?” He scoffed. “You don’t need to eat like savages now. We have food.”

“It’s Daryl’s business, not yours.”

“Not for him, but for Joan it is. We’ve got an established order here. A certain way how we do things.”

Amanda almost scoffed at the words. She had seen the way they did things, like it was a fun trip, making bets and stuff. She only shook her head, though, and started walking away.

A part of her, perhaps the part that needed regulations, rules, and procedures as much as she needed oxygen to keep herself stable, agreed with Aiden. The rules were important. Deanna was the leader of the town, and she had given a clear order. There were even procedures on how to disagree with the policies, and in every sense of the word, Joan just went and walked all over them.

She should’ve waited until Rick talked to Deanna, so then they could try to find a common ground. This way, they only made things more complicated, but as she walked away from the main gate, Amanda wondered what she would’ve done if their positions were reversed.

Could she have managed to keep her cool? Somehow, something was telling her the answer wasn’t as easy as before. Even before the woods, even before the prison, she’d snapped at Grady.

Amanda found Joan sitting on the back deck like usual as she stepped onto the porch. Daryl wasn’t with her this time, though, so she was alone. Amanda first went inside and went into the kitchen to prepare tea. She’d seen lemon balm leaves. It made great tea that would reduce stress, improve the general mood, and cause lightness. She used to drink it a lot before. It would soothe Joan now, and she needed something to start a conversation.

While she boiled water, she stuffed the leaves into a tea infuser and dropped it into a big mug. She would prepare some for Rick, too, she absently thought while waiting to water boil. The tea was also good for insomnia, and God knew Rick’s mood always needed to improve.

The thought made her giggle silently as she shook her head at herself. Beth walked into the kitchen. Turning aside, Amanda turned to the girl. “Why aren’t you in school?”

“It’s boring—” Beth said. “There’s nothing they can teach me there.” she said, but her voice was calm, not agitated. “It’s good for Mika, but not for me or for Carl. Please, don’t make me go there, Amanda.”

The way Beth said the words made something in her chest pinch. “Beth, I just want you to socialize with people around your age,” Amanda said. “A school is good for that.”

Beth shook her head. “We still can hang out together,” she said. “There are only five more there around our age. In fact, Clarice invited us to her house today to play pool.” She smiled. “So, I’m even going to a party.”

  Amanda smiled. It was very telling how teenagers were able to mingle with each other in a short time better than adults. They met three days ago. Yesterday, they shared cigarettes in secret, today they were throwing parties. She wondered when making out would start. It eased her concern a bit. It was good, what Carl and Beth both needed. Soon, they all would settle down. Rick was talking with Deanna. They would find a common ground. Or else—

Amanda stopped her musings there. She wasn’t going to think of that else now. She’d agreed to find guns and ammo, but it was a precaution. Nothing more. Never hurt to be prepared. Then she thought of the condoms. Did she need them to carry on herself?

Things were escalating,—rather heatedly, between Rick and her. One moment they were kissing sweetly, slow and gentle, the next she was grinding on him madly. Honestly, she didn’t know how long she could keep it up, how long he would take it. They almost had sex twice just this morning. She needed to be prepared. They—they couldn’t keep going on like this—

“What’s this?” Beth asked, spying the mug, bowing her head over it. “Smells nice.”

“It’s lemon balm leaves, a plant in the mint family—” Amanda answered. “Very nice, yeah. It’s good for nerves—” she added, giving the teenager a smile.

Beth quirked an eyebrow, putting her hand out to the mug. Amanda pulled it back, laughing. “No. It’s for Joan.”

“What happened?” Beth’s face sobered as she asked. “I heard Daryl had a fight at the gate.”

Amanda nodded. “Yeah. Deanna doesn’t want Joan to leave the town. Daryl tried to take her out to set up snares in the woods. They didn’t let her. So—”

Beth snickered. “Did Daryl punch anyone?”

Pouring honey into the tea for sweetener, Amanda shook her head with another subtle laugh. “No. Rick stopped them before things got out of the control.”

“Where’s Rick now?”

Amanda stirred the tea absently, her head bowed. “Went with Deanna. She wanted to talk.”

“Soo—” Beth drawled out. “How was last night?”

Her hand stopped stirring. She turned to the teenager. Beth was looking at her with a look, a smirk over curving her lips up. “You didn’t come back last night. He must’ve kept you occupied.”

Her brows knitted a little. “Actually, I did. I returned, but saw you sleeping with Carl in the bed.” Beth’s eyes widened. “Now. How did that happen, Beth?”

Bowing her head, Beth shook her head. “Nothing happened. We just slept.” The teenager looked at her again. “He stayed because I didn’t want to stay alone.”

Recalling that was what Carl had said to Rick, Amanda nodded. “Rick said you want to return to the prison.”

Beth’s expression became cooler. “Our stuff is still there,” she said icily. “My father’s Bible, Maggie’s bracelets. I want them back.”

“Beth, honey, we can’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s dangerous. I understand how you feel, but their memories always will be with us.”

Beth shook her head. “They would fade in time.”

Taking a step in, Amanda held the teenager at her upper arms and stared at her eyes openly. She knew her own eyes were shining with unshed tears, too, like Beth’s wide blue eyes. “Not as long as we are here. Not as long as we remember.”

Slowly, Beth nodded, and Amanda hugged her sister. Beth was her little sister, the one she’d never had, but always secretly yearned for. The family she had never had. They all were. Beth’s soft head tucked at the crook of her neck as Amanda tightened her arms around her, relief and peace finding her, a calmness as she held the girl in her arms.

Beth pushed herself out of her grip a few seconds later, passing a hand over her eyes. “Tea is getting cold—” she warned, cracking up a smile, her voice thick with emotion. Amanda laughed the same way, her thick laughter catching in her throat.

Taking the tea, she carried it outside to the back deck. She slipped in beside her friend on the steps. “I made you tea—” she said, holding the mug out to Joan.

Joan took it with a murmured thanks. Amanda checked around their backyard, her eyes trailing the flowerbeds. Their gardens and lawns were full of flowers and trees, and it was a good sight. But there was no sight of Daryl. Her eyes moved to the garage at the end of the driveway. “Where is Daryl?” she asked. “In the garage?”

“No—” Joan answered, giving a little head shake. “He said he was going out after we came back.”

Amanda almost stared at her wildly, but managed to keep it down at the last second. “Uh—” she breathed out, but Joan cut her off.

“I guess he just wanted to be away for a while—” she said. “I don’t blame him.”

This time Amanda heaved out a sigh. “Yeah.”

Joan took a sip from the tea and hummed. “Hmm. This is good.” She paused. “Lemon balm leaves, right?”

Amanda let out a low laugh. Leave it to her to recognize the medical teas. In times like these, Amanda could understand better why Deanna wanted her to stay in. Joan’s knowledge was too valuable. Amanda assessed that. Everyone could learn how to kill a walker, trace a trail, or set up a snare, but what she did was different. None of them had the necessary background training or perhaps even capability. Bob was a medic, too, but in time of crisis, Amanda knew whose word was going to be listened to first.

Amanda had been there. Deanna must’ve made plans for her. Amanda was certain. She would’ve done the same. They should’ve done the same at Grady, too, made Dr. Edwards train Joan and the other few medical staff at the hospital. They’d never done it, and Amanda was wondering why now.

Why had they done things so—so wrong?

It was a question she felt that was going to follow her to the grave.

Silently, they sat for a couple of minutes, watching the town. To her left, she could see a group of people around the maintenance complex that Rick and she had sat in its front yard hidden on their first night, bringing out panels. They must be reinforcing some panels. Even from afar, Amanda saw a big hulk of muscles and red hair and realized Abraham was helping them. They were other people, and she knew soon Rick was going to be there, too. For a while, Amanda thought to go to them as well, but something still kept her beside Joan.

“I know I acted out, Amanda—” Joan said at last, speaking slowly. “I don’t want to be kept protected like a porcelain doll.” She shook her head. “I can’t be that woman again.”

“I know—” Amanda said, bowing her head, shame finding her again for her part. “Joan—” she called out, raising her eyes up at her friends. “I—what I did—what I didn’t—for my part, for everything. I’m truly sorry.”

Joan gave a nod. “I was so angry at you for a while,” Joan then accepted. “But even then I know I couldn’t blame you for everything. I chose it, too. Didn’t think about it thoroughly. I thought I could make a deal with the devil and wouldn’t pay the price.”

“You wouldn’t know how Gorman would turn out—” Amanda objected. “We both didn’t.”

“But we both were afraid,” Joan countered. “That was why you came to me, Amanda.”

Yes, Amanda had gotten worried.

“Rick—” Joan remarked suddenly, turning to her, her face deadly serious. “You gotta be careful. Sometimes—sometimes, I still worry.”

Understanding the words, Amanda shook her head fiercely. “No—no, he isn’t like that.”

This time Joan accepted it with a nod. “Yeah. I know he’s a good man, but he seems to me a bit too…frustrated. Even for his standards.”

Amanda laughed, but again understood the words. That’d been exactly the reason why she’d brought him into the den two days ago, so he could lie down and sleep a bit, calming down.

“I heard Judith crying last night. Did you go to him?” Joan suddenly questioned.

A blush raised to her cheeks. Goodness, she’d turned into a damn open book. “Yeah—” she admitted, bowing her head.

Joan laughed silently. “Stayed?”

“I wasn’t going to, but Beth bunked with Carl after I left. So I had to.”

She heard a soft snicker and raised her head. “So did you do it?”

Amanda shook her head. “Uh, not all the bits.” She ran a fidgeting hand over her neck, heat emerging out of her even worse. She felt herself turning red, feeling like flames running over her skin. Joan eyed her critically. “I—I need time—” she murmured, breathless.

“Calm down—” the nurse in her told Amanda in a commanding voice, her dark eyes still on hers. “Why do you get this anxious? You love him.”

Raising her head, Amanda stared at her friend wildly. Hearing those words from her—hearing them aloud from another. She knew she loved him. But hearing it from Joan…

Joan wasn’t Maggie. They were friends, they were close, but Grady’s strict hierarchy had always been between them, even though it was lessened during the weeks they wandered in the woods. “I don’t know—” she finally said after a pause. “I just do.”

Turning ahead, Joan gave another small nod. “I understand. We all have got issues now.” She snickered. “Perhaps we all have to go to group therapy.”

Amanda recalled the town’s jittery psychologist, laughing silently. “I don’t think Denise could handle it.”

Joan laughed back. “Poor woman.”

“You and Daryl—” Amanda said then, slanting a look at her. If they started talking about relationships, they might talk about hers, too. “What’s happening between you two?”

Joan shrugged. “I truly don’t know.”

“Did you—”

“No—” Joan cut her off. “Not yet,” she confessed. “But I’m considering it.”

All in honesty, Amanda wasn’t surprised.

“Do you think he would be interested?” Joan asked then, her voice suspicious. “I—you know him, he’s a bit weird. I still haven’t figured him out. I thought first he had a thing with Carol, but it isn’t like that.”

“Daryl’s a funny specimen,” she agreed, laughing softly. “But Rick trusts him. He trusts him with his children. You know what that means for Rick.”

Joan gave her a nod. “Daryl trusts him, too, a lot. Perhaps even…you know admires him a bit like a big brother. And I don’t think Rick is much older.”

“Rick’s forty—” Amanda replied quickly. “I have no idea how old Daryl is.”

“One good thing with the apocalypse—” Joan snickered, taking a sip from her forgotten tea. “It made dating easier.”

Amanda had to laugh at that. Dating in the apocalypse. “You think?”

“Well—” Joan said with a shrug. “Back then Daryl and I wouldn’t have worked out, I guess. But now—”

Understanding her point, Amanda nodded absently. Rick and she wouldn’t have worked out in a normal world, either. Hell, they hardly worked even now.

 “I kinda like him, I think,” Joan went on. “I kissed him last night on his cheek. It felt…nice.” She made a pause before she concluded, “I want better memories, Amanda.”

The words brought her a pang of shameful ache in her chest again as Amanda tried not to think of how her memories with Gorman would be. She put a hand over her friend’s knee the same way Rick had done to her. “Will you talk to him?”

“I don’t know,” Joan replied. “I haven’t decided yet.” She paused again, looking at Amanda. “I guess I need time, too.”

Amanda let out a low laugh as she stood up. They were good. And they were going to be better. She just needed to find Mika now and made sure of it for her, too, then she would get prepared. She had a date tonight. She should prepare.

After learning Mika was in school, Amanda went to pick up the girl. She found her at the daycare’s kindergarten, playing with the other kids. They were six of them around Mika’s age or younger, all happily playing. The scene made her smile as she thought she might bring Judith with Mika in the afternoon after they ate. Judith had a liking for swings. They’d discovered it in the woods when Rick fixed her a swing from blankets and ropes in the trees, lounging over his lap. Amanda wondered if they would find a baby stroller around somewhere.

In the middle of the children, Amanda saw Jessie Anderson, the kids’ teacher and the wife of the town’s doctor, Pete Anderson; Joan’s soon to be boss.

The woman turned to her, noticing her approach. She didn’t look like the cool woman that night on the porch or the fidgety woman on their first day. Her face, despite the placidness, had warmth this time, and after a second of eyeing Amanda, the woman gave her a kind smile.

“Hello. How do you do?” she politely asked. “Settled in?”

“Thanks—” Amanda replied awkwardly. “We’re trying.” She paused, darting a look at Mika. “I came to gather Mika,” she explained, walking closer to the miniature picket fences in red, blue, and yellow that were circling the colorful garden. “Is it okay?”

When her attention turned back to the woman, her eyes drew to Jessie’s mouth. Over her bottom lip, Amanda saw a small patch of redness, but she couldn’t be sure if it was a souvenir of a night of passion or something else. Jessie had tried to cover it with concealer, but it was still in sight.

Her eyebrows clenched as Jessie noticed it. She raised her hand at her mouth. “Uh, Pete sometimes gets…heated.”

Amanda couldn’t decide how to take the words. Like her, Jessie had a fair complexion and possibly soft skin, and from personal experience, Amanda knew how much a pain in the ass that was in the throngs of passion, recalling the fingermarks Rick had left over her thighs this morning. Love bites were even worse. Deciding to make a mental note to keep an eye out, Amanda held out her hand to Mika. “Mika—we’re going. Carol’s making cookies.”

Mika chirped happily, and Amanda wondered if the girl really was well. She nodded at Jessie for a goodbye before she led Mika back to the house.

# # #

When Rick came back, they all stared at him or rather stared at what he was holding in his hands.

There were only few of them in the house at the moment; Carol, Mika, Joan, Amanda, and Judith, scattered around the couches and armchairs in the living room. Mika was with Carol and Amanda was on a blanket with Judith on the floor, playing with the baby girl as she tried to feed her Carol’s cookies, before she stopped upon seeing him, staring at his hands.

The scene, the way they lounged, made Rick feel the content and pleased feeling again, but he had work to do. He first needed to talk with Glenn, then find a spot for their dinner tonight and get prepared. His eyes roamed over the pillows Amanda had brought down on the blanket around Judith. The candles they lit at night to save energy were still on the coffee tables, Rick noticed before he asked. “Where are Carl and Beth?”

“They went to Clarice’s to play pool—” Amanda replied, still staring at the uniform he was carrying, dropping her hand with the cookie as she held Judy with the other. “Is—is that a uniform?” she asked, sounding incredulous.

Rick nodded, tossing it over the back of the couch. “Yeah. Apparently, Deanna wasn’t joking when she said she wanted a sheriff. She’s got the uniform.”

Amanda eyed him. “Are you going to wear it?”

The question halted him. Rick didn’t know. He’d put his uniform in a drawer when Carl got shot, put away his badge, feeling it was a necessary step he had to take. They couldn’t go back. Changing once again into a uniform didn’t feel right. Deanna possibly wanted it to make certain of his standing within the town; Deanna Monroe was that type of woman, but things didn’t really work like that anymore. In the old world, the uniforms represented authority and power, but they didn’t live in that world anymore.

He shrugged. “I don’t know—” he answered. “We’ll see.”

Amanda gave him a long look, trying to still a fidgeting Judith who was trying to scurry away from her like usual. “There's still some cookies left—” she commented, moving her gaze to the baby before she let Judith go. Judith started crawling over the pillows. “Help yourself, but sure to leave some for Carl, Beth, and Daryl.”

“I’m not hungry—” Rick replied, walking around the couch, and bending, he picked up Judith and sat down on the couch with her, settling the baby girl on his left knee. He passed his hand through her soft, short baby hair absently, and what the old woman had said about Judith trying to creep inside his barriers, but Rick didn’t let it.

He raised his eyes up. Carol was at the other side in the corner with Mika, and Joan was curled up in an armchair in the alcove across them. “Where’s Daryl?” he questioned. “And Glenn. I need to talk to him.”

“Daryl went to the woods. Glenn is outside—” Amanda answered quickly. “How did it go with Deanna?”

Joan perked up from her armchair, looking at him intently.

Rick turned to her, too, holding Judith’s tiny hand as she rocked herself back and forth on his knee, one of her favorite playtimes. “Not bad—” he said crisply and tipped his head at Joan. “She will let you go with Daryl in the woods for hunting. But only with Daryl, not alone, and you need to send a notice first.”

Joan’s expression stayed as cool as it was when Rick had entered, but accepted the compromise with a curt nod. Still seated on her folded legs on the blanket, Amanda looked up at him. “And Glenn?” she questioned.

“Deanna wanted me to have a partner—” Rick replied coolly, and returning her gaze, he held it. “Because you declined.”

Amanda quickly dropped her head, picking up the stuffed giraffe off the blanket. Rick almost sighed. Carol and Joan were giving them silent looks, too. “She said we need someone like an ambassador between the groups to ease the transition between us.”

Carol nodded. “Sounds reasonable. Glenn could be that guy. He’s always been good with people.” She paused. “It’d be good for him, too. A job.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too—” Rick agreed. “He needs to see Deanna.”

Joan rose to her feet. “I will find him. Perhaps I will talk about this Deanna, too.”

Rick gave an absent nod. “Might be good. But don’t push it—” he warned as the nurse left the room.

He turned to Carol, holding Judith as the baby girl slid on his knee towards Amanda to get down. Amanda was still playing with the stuffed animal. She noticed Judith’s movement and craned her neck up and smiled at the baby. His cock stirred inside his jeans seeing her earnest little smile, and he put Judith down.

But he turned to Carol instead. “They’re reinforcing some panels today,” he started, standing up. “I need to look at it, then make a patrol, then we start, okay?”

Carol bobbed her head affirmatively as Amanda’s gaze darted over to him when she picked up Judith. “Start what?” she questioned, her eyebrows pinching in that cute way when she was confused, not pissed, and the gesture made his cock twinge again.

Goddammit! Everything she did turned him on! The way she smiled, the way she looked, even the damn way she frowned!

“Cooking lesson—” Rick rattled, his eyes on hers as he spied Carol’s small smile out of the corner of his eye. “Took your advice. Asked Carol’s help. She’s gonna help me learn to cook.”

“Oh.” Rick almost lunged forward, scooped her up in his arms and took her upstairs when she blinked at him with that startled look, making a little swallow as she draped Judith across her lap.

Rick forced himself to cool down while Amanda still stared at him. “What’re you gonna cook?” she asked in a small voice. “A casserole?”

“It’s a surprise.” Rick leaned down and pecked her on the lips, just to see her flush.

She didn’t disappoint. Her eyes flicked away as her cheeks reddened, checking on Carol. She quickly bowed her head, giving the stuffed giraffe to Judith. Rick almost laughed, too, shaking his head before he turned on his heel and went out.

Checking the wall panels wasn’t the only thing Rick wanted to do, but he was thinking of the maintenance building to hole up in tonight for dinner. It was the most deserted area in the town, only patrolled at night. They could be alone.

He was going to have to bring the pillows and candles after he sent her out before the cooking and pick some flowers for her from the backyard. Leaving the construction site after a quick look, Rick headed to the maintenance building. He saw the tree under which they’d given each other hand jobs in the front yard under the town’s original masonry wall, and his cock twitched again, now fully erect, painfully rubbing at the hard denim cloth with each step he took. Still, Rick walked along the three or so feet high stone wall lined with thick trees.

Just as before Rick became sure everything was okay, and he almost went inside the building, but then he heard it. It was so low, such a soft whimper—a tiny meow that at first Rick thought he imagined. It came again a second later, this time a bit lingering: meeoow.

Rick spun around, trying to pinpoint the location. In a tiny little spot between the trees, where Alexandria’s majestic twenty feet metallic wall and the masonry wall intersected, there was an orange tabby cat, a baby, staring at him how little kittens stared, light mossy green eyes fixated on him without blinking with its head tilted.

She—Rick thought it must be a she—it looked like a she, meowed again, and Rick realized she was stuck, couldn’t move.

Rick laughed silently, walking towards her. He reached out, putting his right foot inside a hole in the stone wall for leverage and pulled her out from where she was stuck. “How did you manage to get into there, little thing?” Rick asked lowly so as to not to make the poor thing more afraid as she was already trembling.

There weren’t many domestic animals left anymore, fallen with the cities. Pets had become easy prey not only for walkers, but also for nature’s predators. Rick felt sad, but it was likely how it was for modern people, too, becoming easy prey for predators in the wilderness.

He gently took the kitten, realizing he had been correct in his assumption, that it was a female. Her mother—wherever she was—must have whelped recently, because the kitten couldn’t be more than a few weeks old. She managed to live on her own until now, but Rick was glad to find her because he knew she couldn’t make it far alone out there.

He tucked the baby tabby under his arm, keeping her warm as he felt her trembles. She must be hungry, cold, and afraid. But Rick smiled. He’d found her. She was going to be okay with them.

And he had found Amanda a present, too. Rick knew she was going to like it. She’d slipped up that she used to feed stray street cats in her childhood, playing with them even at the risk of being punished. Yes, Amanda would very like this little cutie. Just like she missed her goldfish.

Rick walked back to the house, in his mind Amanda’s genuine smile playing, her lips spreading wide when she saw what her sweetheart found for her. With his right hand, he stroked the kitty’s head gently, looking at the small brownish orange furball, its green eyes staring back at him just in the way Amanda did whenever she was caught unaware or felt shy.

Rick’s smile grew more as he trekked to the house. “Let’s bring to you your mama, sweetling.”

His reward was even better than he’d imagined. Mika squeaked, jumping on her feet as she saw Rick walk in the living room holding the kitten tucked in the crook of his arm. Amanda twisted aside, still playing with Judith on the blanket, toys and children books lying around them. Carol looked at him from the armchair she lounged in the alcove beside the window.

“Is that a cat, Mr. Grimes?” Mika asked breathless, scurrying towards him. “Can I hold it?”

“She’s too small, Mika—” Rick told the girl kindly with a small smile as Amanda got to her feet. “We shouldn’t scare her.”

“Rick, where did you find it?” Amanda asked, walking to him, too. Judith immediately started crawling after her over the blankets and pillows as Amanda’s lips curved up, her expression softening. She looked up at him. “She’s so small.”

  “Found her in a little spot inside the old stone walls while I patrolled. I think she was trying to get inside,” Rick explained as Amanda reached out and took it from him, smiling big. Beautiful, she was so beautiful, Rick wanted to take her in his arms and never let her go.

“Cats have the best intuitions,” he went on, his eyes gaze stuck on her, her smile, her eyes, her smell…honey and cinnamon. His own kitten, his honey bun. She moved closer to him as Rick got hit by her scent once more.

Her head bowed, she looked at her baby kitten, the little tabby curled up in her arms delicately. “She’s so cute.” She raised her eyes up to him again, her eyes glittering like emerald as she smiled. Rick still couldn’t take his eyes off her, his chest swelling with emotions seeing her just like this, the urge to take her in his arms rising in him even stronger.

“Thank you—” Amanda whispered to him so softly before turning to Mika. “Mika, come, let’s fix something for the kitty to eat.”

“Then you’re out—” Rick called out behind her back, sitting down beside Judith on the blanket. “I need the kitchen.”

She paused in her retreat, turning aside towards him to give him a shy smile. “Okay.” She paused again. “I—I don’t like heat much.”

Rick returned it with a bit flirty one. “I know you like sweet.”

A faint blush colored her cheeks, which made him twitch again, but Rick just smiled at her more. He wondered if he looked sheepish, because he felt he damn might, but he still couldn’t stop doing it.

Her cheeks flushing more, Amanda hurried to the kitchen. Carol sent him a look from the other side of the room, her lips holding up a laughing, yet gentle, smirk. Ignoring it, Rick pulled up his knees and placed Judith on them to bounce his baby girl.

# # #

When Carl and Beth had come back from Clarice’s house, and all the rest of their household somehow had learned that Rick was taking her out for dinner tonight.

Carl still tried to keep it civil, despite his last round of bickering with Rick, his face stoic and expressionless as he played with Judith. Amanda almost gave up the idea, but she just couldn’t forget the way Rick looked at her as she went to the kitchen to feed the kitty.

The baby tabby was in Beth’s arms now as she sat on the bed with her legs crisscrossed, holding the kitty in her lap. Amanda guessed they had to find a name for her, but right now in her mind it was always kitty. The fact that Rick had brought her a cat was making it really difficult to stay calm as she felt her stomach was not only making flip flops now, but had turned upside down.

They were going on a date.

Rick had cooked for her, and something smelled very, very nice. The house was permeated with it, something sweet. She’d even picked up scents of honey and cinnamon, but when she’d tried to steal a peek inside the kitchen, Carol hauled her out. Sasha and Bob had dropped by sometime after, Bob sniffing and curious, but Carol sent them away, too. Getting too crowded, and too damn anxious, Amanda went upstairs then and went to her bedroom to calm herself. So far she had done a poor job of it, and as time passed, closing on sunset, she just got more anxious.

“What are you going to wear?” Beth suddenly asked, looking up at her from the kitty.

“Uh—” She looked down at herself, her sturdy combat pants, boots, holsters, and a white linen shirt. “These?” she asked, but even when she did, she knew it didn’t sound good.

With a sigh, Beth put the baby tabby on the bed where the little thing curled up against her hip as Beth stared at her.

“Rick’s showing effort, Amanda—” the teenager talked to her like she was talking to Mika. “Prepared a place for you, cooked for you. I even saw him finding a dress shirt before he left. Now, you’re telling me you’re gonna go to him wearing those?”

“I don’t have anything else,” she muttered.

With another frustrated sigh, Beth stood up and went to the closet. She opened up one door, revealing dresses, skirts, pants, all hanging neatly, with jackets hung on pegs inside. There were even a few pairs of shoes at the base. “She was your size, too. Checked the labels.”

 Finding clothes that would fit her was getting harder than she could imagine as they picked up scattered clothes on the road. She had a tiny, slim figure, and most of time, she would just swim inside the clothes. But this girl, they’d inherited her room and stuff, Amanda realized was as posh as Beatrice. And that was saying a lot.

“C’mon, Mandy—” Beth urged. “Pick out something.”

Heaving a sigh, she went and started looking through the pants. All of them must be designer cut. They were sleek, elegant—

“For the love of God!” Beth exclaimed, snatching a pair of black classic cut pants away from her that she’d taken out of the closet. “No pants!” She threw the mentioned piece of clothing on the bed. “Pick a dress. You’ve got nice legs. Give him a show!”

“It’s chilly outside for dresses.”

Beth shook her head. “He said you’re gonna be inside. Besides, if you get cold, he’d keep you warm,” she added with a smirk.

There was something definitely wrong with how this was going. Amanda shouldn’t pick up dating…tips from Beth Greene, but she still stood motionlessly as Beth eyed the soft nude satin wrap dress and pulled it out. The flared skirt was cut a bit above the knees with gentle ruffles, but not scandalously short. It had long flared sleeves with a deep split neckline, but the satin fabric and sleeves would keep her warm.

Amanda took it from Beth. Overall, it was a good dress and she liked it, but… Beth tossed her an oversized boyfriend jacket in nude tones, the hem licking under her hips. It was a good dress jacket, too. Heaving out another sigh, she turned to Beth. “Shoes?” she asked. “I can’t wear these with my combat boots.”

Shoes were the most problematic. Dresses, you could stitch, or tie, or cut, but shoes either fit or not. “What’s your size?”

“Six.”

Beth threw her a grin, picking up one of the pairs to check under. “It’s your lucky day, Amanda.” It was a two-inch-heel ankle bronze colored booties that looked shiny and way too pretentious for her, but looking satisfied, Beth nodded.

“Okay, you go take a shower, and then we’ll do your hair and makeup.” Her face must have showed off an alarmed look, because Beth smiled at her again. “Showing effort. Remember?”

When she was back in the room, quickly crossing the corridor wrapped in towels, Beth was waiting for her with a hair curler. She didn’t even want to know how the girl had found it. “Asked for it from Clarice today,” Beth still explained with a wicked grin, lifting the iron up in the air.

Without a fight, Amanda demurely headed to the vanity’s cushioned stool. Beth curled her hair after blowing it dry and made her toss them back and messed them up to undo the structured curls. The loose, unkempt strands fell over her shoulders as Beth tangled her hand in her hair to get more volume into the roots. When she was done, she even fixed it with hairspray. Again, where she’d found it, Amanda didn’t even ask.

After Beth was finished, they made quick work of the makeup, her eyes only framed with eyeliner and mascara, putting on copper eyeshadow over her crease, and they went with a nude lipstick, too. When she gazed at the mirror, once more Amanda almost couldn’t recognize herself. She—she looked…beautiful.

Amanda always knew she was pretty, her childhood passed hearing it and getting scared of it; every time someone called her pretty, she used to want to hide herself, but she’d never felt it herself. For her, it just meant—just meant she had to be careful. Had to be alert and protect herself. The basement—

She stopped the thought. She shouldn’t think of that now. That basement belonged to the wilderness, to those days in the woods, not here, not inside these walls, not to this warm house.

Trying to smile at Beth, she pulled herself back together, and breathing deeply, she smelled honey and cinnamon, and all other things that Rick had made especially for her. Her lips curved up more on their own account. She didn’t have to force it anymore.

“Thank you—” she told Beth earnestly, meaning it as she held the teenager’s hand. It was so warm in her palm.

Nodding, Beth smiled back at her. Amanda took the dress then and went behind the dressing screen. Beth had left a white lace thong beside the dress, too. Amanda took the tiny underwear with her own lace bra they’d washed after arriving. This underwear was all clean. Amanda wondered if it was Beth’s doing.

She quickly slipped on the underwear, anticipation building deep in her again, something in her core throbbing, fluttering. She told herself there was no reason to be this anxious, but her motor functions didn’t seem to listen to common sense. The satin dress slipped over her skin smoothly, and for a second or so, she really wanted Rick to see her like this—which was absurd because he was the reason why she was dressing like this.

Amanda smiled at the silly thought, putting on the ankle booties, the additional two inches immediately making her feel more feminine. She walked out around the screen     .

Beth smiled at her again. “You look very beautiful, Amanda.”

“Thank you—” she whispered, returning the smile as she twisted aside to look at the mirror one side to another.

Her breath almost stopped. She really couldn’t recognize herself, the elegant woman staring back at her in the mirror. Amanda stayed frozen in place, her eyes glued on the mirror.

“C’mon, let’s go downstairs—” Beth said, taking her elbow to lead her to the door. “There’s still a bit of time to kill until dusk.”

Taking back her arm, Amanda shook her head, her fixed curls moving rapidly with her agitated movements. “No!” she opposed heatedly. No.

They all must have come back to the house now as the sun would set soon. They’d talked last night until it was time to sleep before they separated between the houses until they became completely accustomed to the town. She couldn’t sit down there like this.

Carl—where was Carl?

She tried to compose herself again as Beth gave her another silent look. “I—I’ll wait here. Uh…I need to check my makeup—” she sputtered out. “Yeah. Redo my hair.”

Beth must’ve decided to have mercy on her because she nodded. “Okay. Wait here. Redo your hair—” she mouthed with a smirk. “See ya downstairs.”

After the teenage girl left, Amanda slumped on the bed, not feeling elegant or womanly one bit, resting her satin covered elbows on her knees as she hunched forward. She put her head gingerly against her palms.

She had to stop acting like a damn teenager! She was a woman in her thirties. There was no logical reason to be like this. No reason at all. “Argh—” She grunted out quietly, wanting to scream, an inch away from pulling out her hair.

Okay. Enough of this shit, she told herself, drawing back up as she squared her shoulders. She was thirty years old, a police officer. They were going to have dinner together.

They ate together all the time. She just had prettied up a bit for it. No big deal. She just had put on a satin dress, designer boots, and a thong underneath, but it was no fucking big deal.

God!

They probably, most probably, were going to have sex tonight.

A smirking voice inside her was also snickering at her that all these efforts Rick was putting out was to get into her panties. He was buttering her up, pampering her with sweet things, and goddammit, Amanda liked sweet!

Rick was making a hell of a good job of it. This was what she’d asked from him. Taking it slow and gradually, so, he was doing it. And, a part of her was melting inside as the other part just felt more anxious until Amanda felt she would be torn apart in two.

It felt like even now there was a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach, and between her legs was throbbing with need, with that dull soreness from the morning. It felt even worse than their first time in the woods, and hell, she couldn’t believe any anxiety she might have would ever be worse than that!

Once again, she was wrong.

This was worse. Yet, she still wanted it. Her eyes moved over to the kitty that still sat on the bed curled around herself. She smiled at the cutie, her fingers going over to her tiny head to coddle it. “Never fall in love, okay, kitty?” she told the kitten seriously. “It’s very messy.”

The baby tabby rubbed her nose against her palm. “Meow.”

Amanda sighed. “Yeah. I know.”

Stroking the kitty’s head absently, her eyes darted up to her backpack on the bed where the package of condoms was still tucked inside the zipped pocket. She wondered if she should bring one to their date. They most probably were going to have sex. She should be prepared.

We gotta be prepared—Rick’s voice echoed in her mind, and her own words: Never hurts to be prepared.

Twisting back, she reached out for her bag. She rummaged through it, and finding the package, she took it out. She fished out one blue package from inside, thinking of where she would stuff it. The jacket they found didn’t have any pockets, and neither did the dress. She looked at her deep cleavage that showed a glimpse of her lace bra through the split neckline. She shifted the neckline, to start tucking the condom inside her bra, but before she finished, her hand stopped.

Amanda stared at the wall, nibbling at her bottom lip, then pulling her hand away, she shoved the condom back into her backpack and stood up. Bending down to pick the kitty up, she supported it at the crook of her elbow as she picked up her jacket.

Then Amanda left the room, leaving the backpack on the bed.

Notes:

Whee, the next IS the date ;)
And, I've been waiting for a long time to make Rick find a kitten for Amanda, and finally! She's gonna have a name too, not just 'kitty', hehe.

Chapter 10: 'I owed you a date'

Summary:

Rick finally keeps his promise to Amanda; them spending a whole night alone together, a night to remember...

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The management office tucked into the corner of the maintenance building smelled like saffron, honey, and cinnamon, sweet and savory just like Amanda liked it. Pushing the desks and chairs over to the corner of the square room, Rick created enough space to lay the rugs over the concrete floor and lined them with cushions from the house.

Rick had found enough cushions and burgundy rugs in the attic, and Carol had discovered a big, round, ornate bronze Eastern style mezze platter. He made four short legs from the panels to set up the platter upon them and fixed it with nails. He put on another burgundy tablecloth over the low table he’d prepared to hide the crude work, but overall, the whole ambience just looked like they were in a cozy booth in a Moroccan restaurant. Just like Rick desired for tonight.

The food smelled delicious, a saffron rabbit casserole with greens Daryl had hunted and foraged today and honey buns. Carol had walked through him in every step. Judging by the smells, Rick would say he hadn’t done a bad job.

Not wanting the fluorescent light to kill his scene, Rick had brought the bed lamp from the master bedroom and turned it on. The lamp gave a sweet, dim orange hue inside the room, as the candles he had taken from the living room and put on the platter cast a gentle, flickering light over the food and tiny flowers he’d scattered around the small serving plates.

Rick was wearing a white dress shirt over his jeans, the first buttons of his collar open, his cuffs rolled up to his elbows. The shirt was a warm, lightweight fabric, and his jeans were comfortable, but inside them, he was already more than semi-hard. It wasn’t as bad as before, although he still twitched whenever he thought of Amanda’s first reaction upon seeing what Rick had prepared for her.

Playing the scene in his mind a couple of dozen times as he waited for her, the anticipation was as much a sweet torture as the tightness inside of his jeans. He couldn’t even remember the last time he felt on pins and needles like this, even before the turn, but then Rick was married almost sixteen years ago, at the age twenty-four. That could hardly make an extensive dating life.

Everything in their marriage had almost seemed like a chore they used to perform regularly before the outbreak, willingly but without any passion. As Rick felt that tense knot deep inside while waiting Amanda to show up, he realized what had also been missing from his life. Amanda was teaching him what kind of a relationship he really wanted in his life, the openness, the desire to share, even without knowing she was doing it.

Rick wanted to take her in his arms and talk to her for hours, just like they’d done last night, about them, about other stuff, sometimes just teasing, flirting but just talk, lie down together, holding each other, touching each other, being in contact. Feeling it.

God! Last night was so good. Rick wanted to spend the rest of his nights like that. There it was. He finally admitted it. The thought was getting more prominent in his mind. He wanted Amanda in his life. All the time.

They had bumps in the road ahead of them, Rick knew it, but they were going to get over them. Amanda wanted it, too. She couldn’t admit it even to herself, but she was feeling it. She must be. Their lives were hard, always an inch away from a disaster or a tragedy, but they should have this respite. She was his respite, taking her in his arms, listening to her breath, stroking her curves, softly rubbing her breasts, cupping her ass, they were all his respite. He needed her. And he was tired of trying to hide it.

Rick looked around, the cozy ambiance, the burgundy-brown cushions, red rugs, tablecloth, flowers and candles, the sweet savory food—his honey buns.

They were going to hop over that bump tonight. Amanda was going to see there was nothing to be afraid of. If she just accepted that, if she just gave in and opened herself up, let herself open up like their first time, then Rick could show her. He wanted to have her savoring each moment, make love to her slowly, not fuck her senseless like a beast, but sweetly, gently, and he didn’t care a damn how cheesy it all sounded.

He damn well wanted cheesy, too!

“Rick!” Her voice called out from outside the room, and he heard a hesitant timbre in her usually clear, placid tones. “Rick!”

“I’m down here!” Rick shouted back and waited, twisting aside to the door, standing up before the door cracked open, and she slowly stepped inside.

Rick stared—stared—stared. He could stare at her for an eternity and would never get bored even for a second.

She was so beautiful, it hurt him to look at her. His cock reacted to the sight of her almost immediately, hardening to a full erection, but it wasn’t what hurt. No. It was her beauty. “Amanda—” he could only manage to utter. 

She bowed her head, getting shy in that way of hers, her cheeks flushing, Rick could see even in the dim light. “You look so beautiful.”

She was wearing a satin dress that flowed over her body like a waterfall, diving with a deep neckline that revealed a good amount of cleavage to him. The sight of that almost made him pull her into his lap and bury his head over her breasts, eager to taste them again. The skirt of the dress left her slender legs bare to his admiration, which he did, in great detail. He wanted to do what he had done this morning, drop in front of her on his knees and make his way up over her smooth skin until he found her gem between her legs.

Rick wanted her like that again, burning with desire for him, every ounce of her self-control gone as she clenched him tightly between her thighs. They had to be like that with no barriers between them, letting them see each other naked. The feeling had been always with him, since the beginning, since their first time in the woods, his blind desire to see her naked. Rick now truly understood what it meant.

“Thank you,” she murmured shyly. “Beth insisted I should wear a dress,” she said, trying a smile, closing the door. “You know...showing effort.”

Rick smiled back at her, holding out his hand for her. “I’m glad she did. You really look beautiful.”

She tugged a lock of wavy hair behind her ear as she walked towards him, and the coy gesture was so…charming, his cock throbbed again watching her striding towards him slowly. “It looks beautiful, too,” she murmured, gaze roaming around the room before she took his offered hand and slowly descended onto the cushions right beside him. Their bodies almost touched each other, and Rick moved an inch to close that little gap between them, too.

“You did all of this,” she started, but Rick cut her off with a chaste kiss.

He drew back an inch, looking at her eyes. The candlelight over the plate was shining in the emerald depths thickly framed by her eyelashes, making her look absolutely gorgeous. He twisted and picked up the flowers he’d hidden beside him under the platter.

“Welcome,” he whispered to her, giving her the bouquet he had prepared for her.  “Thank ya for coming.”

Amanda smiled, shaking her head as she bowed it over the bouquet. “You’re trying to charm me,” she mouthed, her eyes raised up to his over the flowers.

Rick chuckled, taking off her jacket. “So obvious?”

She nodded…almost girlish. “But I like it,” she said after a second, one hand shooting up to play with his collar as she lowered the other one with the flowers to her side and put it beside her. “You don’t look so bad yourself, either.”

“Not so bad?” he repeated in a faint murmur, leaning forward for another kiss.

“Hmm mm,” she murmured back against his lips. “Fairly acceptable.”

Putting her hands on his chest, she stopped him before Rick could deepen the kiss. “It really looks very beautiful, Rick.” Her voice was so low, deep in her throat as she gazed at his eyes, light flickering inside her own green ones before she smiled at him again. “Thank you.”

Rick took her hand again and kissed her fingers gently. “I owed you a date,”

Her smile grew bigger, playful. “Oh, you say don’t get used to it. This’s a one-time-thing?”

He twined his fingers through hers and tucked her hand against his inner hip. Her warmness reached him even though the rough fabric of the denim. “Nope. Next time, you cook,” Rick shot back.

“Ah. Okay.” Amanda leaned over the table, smelling the casserole. “Is it saffron?”

Rick nodded. “Rabbit with saffron and greens.”

She laughed. “It must be priceless now. How can they find it?”

Rick gestured with his head. “Do you have to ask?” he asked with another laugh. “This is Alexandria, the town of extravaganza at the end of the world.”

“We should write it on the wall,” she shot back and eyed the platter, taking her hand off him. She gripped the platter’s edge with both hands, leaning forward. “That’s flatbread. You made it too?”

“It was easier than I thought.”

Her head twisting towards him, Amanda gave him another look. “You’re a very surprising man, Rick Grimes.” She turned back and continued her inspections. “And honey buns,” she said, her voice sounding surprised.

“Hmm mm. They’re for you.”

She cocked an eyebrow, facing him again. “For me?”

Pivoting his body an inch, Rick leaned over her and kissed the side of her neck, rubbing his nose across her skin to fill his nostrils with her scent. “Sweet, honey, and smelling of cinnamon. You’re like honey buns.”

“I’ve been accused of being worse things,” she gasped, trembling under his touch when his hand ran a line across her spine. She felt so good, so fucking good, Rick almost forgot the dinner. He wasn’t hungry. Not for food. He traced his lips upward, finding her spot under her ear. Trembling, Amanda whimpered. “Rick…”

Rick battled himself not to unzip her dress and get her under him right that moment. His cock was throbbing with each breath, but he steeled himself. He drew away and started serving her food to get himself under control. Putting a generous amount on the plate, he added flatbread, too. She usually ate so little, sometimes Rick got worried.

She darted her eyes over the service platter, searching. “Rick—” she called out, her eyes still checking. “Where are the forks?”

“Didn’t bring ‘em,” Rick answered with a shrug.

Turning to him on her pillow, Amanda stared. “What?”

“Well, the ambiance,” he replied, waving his hand slightly over their dinner as he reached for his own plate.

He took a small piece of flatbread and put a significant dollop of the meat and greens from the casserole on top and rolled it. A thin drop of the casserole’s grease trailed over his forefinger. Raising his hand, Rick licked it away quickly with the tip of his tongue as Amanda stared at him.

“This is how it’s eaten,” Rick mouthed before he bit half of his rolled bread.

Then he leaned over to her, still watching her intently, and offered the remaining half to her. She tilted her eyes down, eyeing the morsel, then slowly she touched the bread at his fingers with her lips and took it inside her mouth. Her lips lingered over the tips of his fingers, her tongue flicking out as she raised her eyes up to him, not moving.

Rick swallowed. Her eyes glued to his, Amanda drew back, and started slowly chewing and swallowed. “Good?” Rick roughed out, his voice so thick he almost couldn’t get the word out of his throat.

She nodded, still looking at him. “Delicious,” she breathed out, then her lips quirked up. “You’ve really made an effort.”

Struck with her glowing beauty, Rick watched her as Amanda shifted aside slowly to mimic his process and rolled a little wrap herself in the same way. Turning back to him, she took it up and offered it to him with a gentle smile.

Still staring at her eyes, Rick slowly lowered his head and bit the morsel. “Deanna,” Amanda remarked as Rick drew back, swallowing the food. “How did you convince her? Did she really have a list?” she questioned.

Rick really didn’t want to talk about Deanna, about her dossier, about anything other than them right now, but he still answered. “Yeah, a dossier,” he replied as Amanda ate the other half of her wrap. “We all got a file in it,” he continued before he started rolling another piece. “She called it the brain of Alexandria,” he added, scoffing. Amanda had already finished her last bite, so Rick offered her his again.

She leaned in again, her eyes raising up to meet his as her brows knitted. “The brain of Alexandria?” she asked, her lips already touching his fingers. Rick suppressed a shiver, her breath tickling his skin before she bit the piece.

When her teeth gently nibbled at his fingertips while she was doing it, this time Rick shivered. His cock twitching again, Rick forgot for a second what they were talking about as the urge to throw her down and climb on her clouded everything else in his mind.

“Uh—” Rick breathed low, his eyes still struck on her as Amanda leaned back. “Assessment, assortment, and classification.”

Munching the food slowly, Amanda slowly shook her head, wiping her fingers to dry them with the napkin on the tray.  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

She reached towards the water pitcher and poured herself some water. Rick had scented the water with flowers from the backyard and with a few herbs in the kitchen, following Carol’s instruction. It had a nice floral and herbal scent, and Amanda sipped it, a pleased expression crossing over her face. She looked down at the glass, eyeing the contents.

“This is very nice. Sweet and herbal.”

Rick nodded. “Carol suggested scenting the water with flowers for aroma,” Rick answered. “Added a few herbs we found in the supplies.”

Amanda nodded in appreciation as she took another slow sip, and made a sound like a soft purr. “I taste lemon balm leaves,” she commented, her words becoming languid, her breath languorous. “Is that so?”

“Among other things,” Rick said with ease she put down her glass and smiled at him gently.

So beautiful, she was so beautiful…glowing…candlelight flickering over her face, glimmering in her green eyes.  “I made lemon balm tea for Joan today,” she went on softly. “Thought to make for you, too.”

Rick smiled, leaning her closer. “You did?”

“Hmm mm...” she hummed in that slow, relaxed tone. “It reduces stress, insomnia—”

Rick kissed her lips lightly, tasting the floral, herbal wetness tinted with saffron. “You take good care of me,” he whispered to her.

Amanda laughed, little bells jingling in the air… “Do I?”

He nodded, making a move to deepen the kiss, but Amanda pulled back an inch and turned aside to roll another slice. Smiling at the flirty gesture, Rick let her. It was so good to see her like this, smiling, flirting, enjoying herself with him.

“Glenn—” she started a second later, but Rick cut her off.

“No.” He shook his head. “No more talking about business. We’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he told her. He really didn’t want to talk about those things now. They were worries for tomorrow. Tonight belonged to them. “Tonight is about us.”

Her hands halting, Amanda turned to him, her gaze grew heavier. The next moment, she nodded. “Okay,” she accepted. “No business talk.”

Rick nodded in return, still looking at her. “Uh,” she breathed out, reaching out to take her glass, leaving the food, but he felt she was just doing it for the sake of doing something, her eyes drawing away. He let her.

She took another sip from the scented water, and then they lapsed into silence.

Rick cleared his throat, not sure how to go on. He’d said tonight was about them, and he wanted it to be like that, but suddenly he didn’t know what to do. Rick looked at her, and Amanda looked at her glass… Rick realized they didn’t know how to make easy small talk about themselves as silence stretched between them louder and louder until Amanda started laughing softly.

Her laughter sounded weary this time. Rick shook his head, before bowing it, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “We literally can’t find anything to talk about,” Amanda muttered.

Rick sighed, reaching for water, too. He gulped a big sip, wishing it were…something harder. Perhaps he should’ve brought liquor. But the idea of not being sober still bothered him, so Rick had decided on scented water. “You gotta walk me through this one,” she told him, lifting her head, setting down her glass. “Can’t say I’m the expert with this…dating stuff.”

“Uh, well,” Rick drawled out, taking another sip from his water. “I’m a bit rusty on that front, too.”

She looked over to him again, then suddenly asked. “How old were you when you got married?”

The question almost took him by surprise. It was the first time she’d ever asked something about his old life—about his marriage this openly. Amanda was a smart girl. She could do the math. Carl was almost fifteen, and she knew he was around his forties now. She knew he’d married young. There was more to that question, so Rick answered directly.

“Twenty-four. After my first year at the Sheriff’s department. We met during my last semester. Lori was in her second year. We were just acquaintances,” Rick went on. “We met again at a dinner party after college. We dated around six months before I proposed.”

The end of their love story. Rick had proposed, Lori had said yes, and they got married. Most people thought that Lori was pregnant, just like how Amanda had probably wanted to ask. She wasn’t.

Rick had fallen in love. Lori was a pretty woman, caring and gentle, but also having a fierce side Rick admired, and she wanted to be a family as much as Rick did. It was all a new experience, his first love in adulthood, and honestly, Rick had gotten tired of the dating life.

He’d started feeling the urge to settle down. So, about six months later, even before her semester ended, he’d bought a ring, took her out to a fancy restaurant, and proposed at the end of the evening.

It was a decision he’d never regretted, but in hindsight, Rick couldn’t help but think if the problems with their marriage had started first because they married too young, then became parents even before they truly knew themselves.

Bowing her head, Amanda gazed at her glass, running her finger along the rim before she slowly asked what she’d been wondering. “So she didn’t…” she trailed off, raising her head. “You know—get knocked up or something?”

Rick shook his head. “No. I wanted to marry her,” he answered truthfully.

Her eyes stared at him this time, having another thing Rick couldn’t read fully. “Why? You were young.”

“I don’t know,” he answered with a shrug. “I wanted to be a family, I guess. Have my own family, my own kid.” He waved his hand over the platter. “Uh, honestly, dating has never been my strongest point.”

She burst into low laughter at that, the heavy moment between them dissipating. She eyed the platter again. “Well, this one hasn’t turned so bad.”

Rick caught her gaze, tilting his head forward. “I’m glad to hear you think like this,” he told her seriously.

Her eyes flicking to him, she quickly brought the water to her lips, bowing her head shyly. The urge to kiss her—to taste her again was so strong in him, Rick was almost done. But he didn’t want to break her flow. She’d opened up, asked him something about his past, and Rick wanted to see where she could take it. He didn’t want to rush things. No. He wanted her relaxed enough to ask him about his past, even talk about her own.

So Rick stayed where he was, just inches from her pillow, but still so close that he could feel her warmth as Amanda dawdled with her water before she started to wrap another piece of rabbit, potatoes, and greens in the flatbread.

“Um, are you an only child?” she asked slowly, raising her head, her fingers rolling the bread. “I’ve never heard Carl talking about aunts or uncles.”

Rick nodded. “Yeah. Only me. Mom got pregnant once when I started primary school but lost it.” He smiled a little as Amanda looked at him with sympathetic eyes. “I was wanting a baby brother.”

“And—and your parents,” she asked with a small voice. “Were they?”

He cut her off. “I lost mom before I started college, and dad when Carl started primary school.”

Amanda scooted to him closer, closing that inch between them as their hips pressed against each other. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.

Rick shook his head. “It’s okay.” Amanda lifted her head up to look at him, folding her legs beside her. Her dress bared a generous amount of her legs, pressed against the denim cloth on him. Rick wanted it gone. He wanted to feel her warmth. She felt like a furnace next to him, heating him up.

Looking down at her, his eyes darted over the ivory skin at her cleavage, catching the sight of his necklace before they found hers again. She was really glowing with a golden-red hue, eyes glinting emerald. “You said your grandpa was a soldier,” she spoke in that low, languorous whisper, leaning against him even closer, their gaze still on each other. “Was your father, too?” She paused a second, her gaze turning a bit more searching. “Or was he a cop like you?”

Rick coiled his right arm around her waist and brought her almost onto his lap. “No, he ran his own furniture business. But he was one of the first responders for our town. Always used to say he wanted to be a cop.” He smiled at her. “We used to have strolls together in the summer when I was little. He told me stories. Sometimes Grandpa came along. It was good. I did it with Carl, too.”

Amanda’s smile was even brighter than all the flickering lights around them. Her hand touched the side of his face. “I can just imagine you doing that,” she whispered.

Rick wasn’t sure what that truly meant, he couldn’t focus on anything other than her glowing eyes and skin—her warmness, her heat. His eyes flicked over her lips, and Rick leaned on in, but twisting aside, Amanda slipped an inch away from him again playfully. Rick almost smiled, half amused, half exasperated. Mostly, exasperated. His cock was so hard, rubbing inside the tight denim cloth of his jeans as he shifted on the cushions. She was like a torture, a sweet torture.

She gazed at the honey buns. “I haven’t eaten honey buns in years,” she muttered, looking at the little sweet pastries, then her lips curved up in an affectionate way. She spun aside again towards him. “I was in this lady’s house for a while. She used to bake for us. Cakes, honey buns, cinnamon rolls.” Her smile grew wider in fondness. “Even gingerbread cookies at Christmas. She was a religious woman, devout, stern and firm, but kind. For every occasion, she always had a verse from the Bible.” She laughed, then paused, her eyes turning to him again. “Dr. Hershel kind of reminded me of her.”

Rick smiled warmly as she finally mentioned something from her childhood willingly without probing. Something that made her smile fondly. “How long were you there?”

Amanda shrugged, her glowing state dimming a bit. Rick wanted to kick himself. “Not long,” she answered. “She was really old. Got sick before the year ended. Had to leave.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” she mumbled back. “I’m just glad I knew her.” She gave him a smile, but this time it was melancholic and pointed towards sweet pastries. “So—honey buns?” she asked. “Haven’t tried them yet.”

Reaching to the plate, Rick took one of glazed, fried pastries and leaning over, offered it to her, but before she could close her lips over it, Rick snatched his hand away and took a bite.

Amanda gave him a look, tilting her head, her mouth turning down into pout, and Rick really, really had to battle himself not to throw her down on the cushions. “You said they’re mine.”

Shrugging one shoulder, Rick munched the sweet slowly, staring into her eyes.

She watched him as he did, her eyes glued on his, then she scooted over to him again and swung her right leg over his lap. Nestling herself against him, her curves nimbly fit against his edges like they always did.

Amanda lifted her head, practically astride over his lap now. Rick brought up his sticky thumb with honey, cinnamon, and sugar over her lips. She made a low moan, her eyes half closing. “Honey, cinnamon, and sweet—tastes like you,” Rick whispered, rubbing his finger over her bottom lip to make her taste it. “Try it.”

She licked her lip and his finger, half-closed heavy eyes still staring at him. With the honey and cinnamon, he could also smell her arousal, that distinctive smell that made him feel like he’d bottled up a whole bottle of whiskey. Rick didn’t need any alcohol, because he had her. His hand—still half sticky, went down between her legs under her dress.

Rick smirked contentedly when he realized she was wearing another thong underneath. He ran his fingers over her folds, over her wetness. Dripping wetness. His smirk turned rougher. “So wet—”

She flushed even worse, hiding her head at the crook of his neck, shifting over his lap further until she was just over his twitching cock. Rick hissed as she settled her ass over his crotch. His eyes shot up to her as she stared at him with those glazed, hazy eyes, and Rick was done.

He hauled her up and flipped her down onto her back in single motion, a surprised low squeak leaving her as she stared at him. But she didn’t make a move, just lay there sprawled out over the cushions, the hem of her dress slid up over her hips, and Rick caught a glimpse of white lace underneath.

Drawing up on his knees, he grabbed her right leg by the ankle and took off her boot. Raising her leg, Rick brought the inner part of her ankle up to his lips. Amanda was simply looking at him now. The wild haze of lust was replaced with something akin to anticipation and curiosity.

Rick tucked the sole of her foot under his jaw, then tilting his chin, he kissed the tattoo at her ankle. Her smile spread wider. He decided to kiss her foot properly later as he started fucking her, holding her leg at his shoulder. Even imagining her like that made his cock throb painfully, but that was for later. All those plays were for later. They had the whole night. A whole night to themselves. Alone. No one in their right mind would expect them to return tonight. Not even Carl.

No. They had a whole night ahead of them, finally alone. Without walkers, without interruption, without the sense of imminent danger, without anything. Just them. And right now, Rick only wanted to taste her, every inch of her skin, her every curve, her every plane. 

He was going to fuck her so slow, so gentle, to show her how they could do it. Then he would fuck her senseless, flip her back on her stomach or on her hands and knees or her legs over his shoulders. God, he wanted to try every position that he’d ever thought of with her. He wanted to make her come countless times, make her lie sprawled out in his arms with pleasure and contentment in bliss, soothed down.

Her boots off, Rick leaned down over her, and he opened the side zipper of her dress. It was a beautiful dress, but he wanted to see her naked now. When her zipper was undone, he pulled it off her, the satin fabric sliding over her body smoothly as Amanda raised her arms up to help him before he threw it away across the floor.

There she was before his eyes, only wearing the lace underwear: the small bra and even smaller thong. It was a sight out of his best dreams. Rick drew back up, just to look down at her, drinking the sight of her. He memorized it as she lay before him, glowing in the candlelight, looking up at him still dazzled. The small, faint scar on her left shoulder was there, too, and lowering his eyes, Rick caught the sight of the pale, scarred line that ran over the left side of her navel; the reminder of what had nearly stolen her from him.

Chasing away the sudden fear that tightened his chest from looking at her scar, Rick twisted aside to reach the sweets on the platter. She was safe now, with him, and they were going to forget about that memory. Make new ones. Better ones. Amanda’s eyes widened for a fraction as she realized his intention.

Rick turned to her, putting down the sweet plate next to the cushions on the floor. “I told you, you’re my dessert...” He took a honey bun and stared at her as his fingers started breaking the glazed pastry apart over her flat stomach. “My honey bun.”

She twitched as the damp, sticky, glazed tidbits started raining down on her stomach. Rick drew her legs up and parted them to nestle himself in between them. He held her bent knees while lowering himself over her before he started eating the sweet bits off of her.

Each time his tongue flicked over her to take another piece into his mouth, kissing along her pale scar, she twitched more, her breath hitching in harmony with his tongue’s fluttering. Rick also discovered another thing while he gathered each piece off her skin.

Amanda was ticklish, highly sensitive to contact, especially sensual contact. The knowledge brought to him another surge of satisfaction as she warmed up further under his tongue and lips, which almost made him forget his own throbbing cock. When he was done with the small bits of pastry, he started licking the sticky remnants of the glaze, sucking her belly button, and Amanda truly started squirming under him.

Her hand shot down and grabbed his head as he played with her belly button, his tongue fluttering across the sensitive spot as her whimpers turned to deeper moans. This time, Rick didn’t mind it. He wanted to hear her moans, her groans—loudly—as she lost herself in passion. She had no reason to be silent now.  They were safe. Only the two of them. Alone.

The feeling found him again, strongly. He’d made it. Kept her safe, brought her to safety. He hadn’t failed this time.

His emotions ran even wilder, the fire in him incited with his last thought. He raised his eyes, his head still between her hands, and they shared a heavy look. Rick broke their contact and pulled back an inch and yanked down her tiny bra to cradle under her breasts as he snatched another honey bun from the platter. He started breaking it apart over her breasts. He was going to taste her, every inch of her skin.

Resting himself over her completely, he decided to give his interest first to her right breast. Bowing his head, he mouthed the swell of her soft flesh, sucking the sweet tidbits from around her nipples, licking, sucking, nibbling. Amanda was groaning deeply and loudly now without a care in the world, just like how Rick wanted.

Her hands went down to his head to direct him so that Rick would give each breast the attention they equally deserved. Rick hummed with satisfaction over her skin as Amanda squirmed under him even more. When he finished his dessert, he crawled up towards her and made her taste honey buns off his lips.

Just at the right moment, her hands eased down to his shirt and tugged the edge of it out of his waistband. Her fingers slipped under it quickly then, tracing lines to feel him. Rick shivered at the touch, her fingertips still half sticky sliding across his chest, but there was an urgency in her touch, too, to feel more of him—to touch more of him…

Too much cloth, there was damn too much cloth between them, and Rick had no patience left. He quickly drew up onto his knees and started to take off his shirt, but skidding over the cushions in a sudden sleek move, Amanda pushed upward fluidly and joined him.

Slow and sweet passed in his mind, but it was only a distinct echo now. They’d waited long enough…damn long enough. They had a whole night ahead of them. Rick would show her then.

He popped the buttons as fast as possible, almost ripping them off as Amanda lunged at his jeans. The button at the bottom of the shirt resisted. Cursing under his breath, Rick jerked it off forcefully. The white little button flew in the air and landed on the other side across the room. Her head snapped aside as her hands halted, Amanda watched him, but Rick just yanked the damn thing off him and threw it aside.

Amanda turned back to him as Rick took over what she’d stopped doing. He started unbuckling himself. He still had his duty belt on. He always felt naked without its heaviness cinched around his hip. The absence of his gun was worse, but he couldn’t go without his duty belt.

Rick unfastened it, leaving it on the floor beside the cushions. Amanda was still watching him, another dazzled expression on her face, but he didn’t give her time to think over it.

He didn’t want her to think. No. Not now. He wanted her just like she was a few seconds ago, assaulting his belt. Wanting him as crazily as Rick wanted her. His duty belt off, Rick didn’t waste any time after that. He caught her and started kissing her hungrily. He was hungry, not for food, but for her. She still tasted honey and cinnamon beneath his lips. His mind started turning foggy, his blood rushing into his veins.

Rick backed towards the corner over the cushions, leaning against the wall as he dragged her down with him and made her sit astride him. As soon as she was in direct contact with his painfully bulging hardness, Rick started rocking them, holding her hips.

It was still a torture, feeling her almost bare aside from her tiny underwear against his jeans, not even a sweet one, either. Just pure torture. His hands trailed up over her back, unhooking her bra, and his mouth found her breasts again. He nibbled the sticky remains of honey over her nipples with the tips of his teeth as Amanda groaned loudly.

“Rick—” she breathed out in a long whisper, but Rick couldn’t be sure if she was warning him or imploring, because below she started grinding over him, grabbing his shoulders for support, arching backward.

Just to make it certain for her, Rick reached down, still nibbling at her nipple and pushed two fingers inside her at once. They slid in her wet channel with no resistance as Amanda groaned loudly again and almost screamed when he curled them up inside her. She leaned down over him, linking her arms around his neck, and rested her forehead on his shoulder to muffle out her groans.

“Scream if you want,” he whispered to her, looking up at her from between her breasts. “There’s no one here but us. We’re alone. A whole night. Like I promised you.”

Her eyes shifted down, finding his gaze… “Rick...” she moaned again in that voice, bordering imploring and warning. “Rick—” He hit her spot another time, then shifting her, pressed his thumb on her triangular connection. When he started sliding his thumb, Amanda bucked violently, and with a smirk, Rick realized he found her clit.

He started sliding his finger swith a quick rhythm, building her up, but not letting her come. Her groans became even louder as he did, her body completely giving in. “I wanna eat you up, baby,” he whispered to her hoarsely, playing with her. “Do you want me to? Wanna me eat you out again like in the shower?”

“Rick—” she only groaned loudly again, shivering, grinding, bucking at his hand. He kissed the side of her face gently, his eyes searching for hers. They were half closed again, hazy with simmering lust.

“Amanda,” Rick whispered back to her as with his other hand he unbuttoned himself and unzipped his jeans.

Lifting up his hips an inch, drawing her upward, Rick eased them downward. He wanted to get himself free. He wanted to be naked with her, take her slowly, but they were so far gone now, and Rick feared breaking the connection he made with her.

He settled down, edging his jeans down under his hips, and scooting over the cushions before he freed himself fully. Pulling his hands away, he dragged her down on his bare cock. Her head snapped up at him, her eyes having that wild look again.

“Easy...” Rick breathed out calmly with the last ounce of his willpower. Her slim thong was still between them, but so tiny between her folds. The sight of it was just making it worse for him. Making her lean on him, his cock tipped upward, Rick started rocking her over his length.

It was something they’d never done before, but somehow it made Amanda soothed. Soon Rick managed to slow himself down, regaining his self-control and letting her pick her own pace, which she did, sliding herself sleekly over him astride in languid movements, her arms still loosely wrapped around his neck, her fingers tangling through his hair.

The sensation was almost enough to make him flip her over again and drive himself inside her, but when she also started kissing his chest after twisting downward, her lips tracing his own scar at his side, Rick stopped himself, digging his fingers into her hips.

“Good?” he whispered to her, lifting his eyes up to find hers again, tangling one hand into her hair at the nape of her neck to make her look up at him.

Their eyes caught each other briefly before her half closed, misted ones darted upward, turning away from his. Amanda never managed to hold eye contact long during sex, something Rick wanted to change tonight, too. “Yeah...” she moaned softly, rocking herself over his length. “Good…It’s good.”

When his cock started tripping over her entrance, making him hiss through his nose, Amanda groaned louder. Rick started kicking off his boots, using the edges of the cushions and the other pair. He had no idea how he managed it, but when he was finally free, he rolled off his socks as well, using his feet. Raising his hips, keeping Amanda still in contact sitting astride him, he freed himself completely from his jeans and kicked them away, too.

Finally, finally he was free, both of their bodies naked, just aside that little, tiny lace thing. Rick didn’t mind it. Not one bit. Amanda drew her eyes to him again as shifting, Rick started skidding them over the cushions.

Her body was leaning over his completely now, their naked bodies at full contact as she rocked herself over him. Rick stared at her as she did, cupping her cheeks and her neck, and started kissing her slowly, so slowly, lingering, just like how he wanted, their rhythm slow, gentle, affectionate, her hands tangling into his hair further as she kissed him back.

Her wet folds stroked against his cock almost lazily, and it was killing him. “Amanda...” he whispered to her as he tilted his hips just an inch up, adjusting their position.

The tip of his cock skimmed over her entrance before Rick pushed a shallow thrust under her. She groaned loudly as his breath itched, his arms easing down to circle her waist to bring her down over his length further but still letting her decide on the move.

He wanted her to sink down on him, take him inside her, accept him fully. “Amanda—” Rick rasped again against her throat, his voice almost imploring now.

Amanda tilted her head back and their eyes found each other. Rick saw a myriad of emotions inside them, her eyelids full open now, her irises glazed emerald. “Rick—" she breathed out. “W-we can’t.”

Rick stared at her. That was a funny statement to make in their current situation but before he could make a sound, she continued. “C-condoms…they’re in the house,” she uttered as lust and desire in him suddenly dimmed as if someone threw a bucket of cold icy water on him. His eyes narrowed at her. “We can’t. It’s too dangerous.”

“Why didn’t you bring ‘em?” Rick asked in a clipped tone.

Why? Why on the god’s rotting earth she didn’t bring a condom if she was so damn hell bent not to have sex with him without one? As soon as the question rose in him, the answer came, too.

Rick froze further, his blood turning cold, lust fading, leaving its place a chilling anger. Caught by his question, Amanda was staring at him with that wild look again. He just gave a terse jerk of his head and pushed her aside, off him and onto the cushions.

She landed beside him as Rick sat up, swinging his legs onto the floor.

“Rick—” Rick heard her low, hesitant voice as he grabbed his boxer briefs and quickly put the damn things back on. He wasn’t going to sit in front of her with a damn hard cock while she constantly refused to be with him.

No. It wasn’t even just being refused, the hurt of being rejected. No. Rick knew she’d developed this weird blockage, hell, even in their first time she’d managed to literally block herself to him, but after everything they’d been through, after everything… They almost had sex just this morning!

Rick knew damn well how Amanda’s mind worked. She was a smart girl. She knew tonight they might have sex. She knew he wanted it. She knew he was trying to flirt with her, date her. He was doing all of this just for her, to show her how much it mattered to him, how much she mattered to him. She must all know it, yet she still left the damn condoms in the house!

Deliberately. She hadn’t forgotten them. She didn’t bring them on purpose. Just so she could have a backup plan, an excuse if she would need it. And that hurt more than the rejection.

His temper winning over everything else, his jaw squared as he reached down and grabbed his jeans. He caught the cushions shifting as Amanda scooted over to him. Her hands slid up over his chest from behind as she rested herself at his back. Rick raised his hips to pull up his jeans as her fingertips slowly moved over his chest just in the way she knew he liked it.

His hands halted at his hips. “Rick, I—” Amanda whispered, then stopped.

Rick twisted his head and looked at her.

In silence, Amanda looked at him, then her hand started wandering downwards. Rick continued to stare at her as her hand moved over his lower stomach before inching below and slipping inside his jeans and boxer briefs.

His hesitance gone, his eyes narrowing even further with anger, Rick grabbed her hand and stopped her.

“Rick,” she breathed out, her voice sounding devastated now as he jerked her hand away.

“I don’t want it,” he clipped, turning ahead.

“Rick, please let me get you off—”

His anger flared even worse at the words. His head whipped back at her. “Do you honestly think that I just want to get off here?” he snapped, jumping to his feet and shaking his head.

Looking at him, craning her head up, her expression shifted, too. “You said we’re gonna wait.”

“Wait...” Rick replied. “Yeah, we wait…but Amanda, I don’t understand what we are exactly waiting for?”

Her expression shifted even more. “Well, it looks like you just wait to get into my pants.” She cocked her head around. “Are these—” Her hand waved over the plate table. “Is all this, flattering, pampering, taking me out to dinner, cooking for me, making all of this, only aiming for that end?”

He stared at her a full minute, his jaw held so tense it hurt, all of his arousal gone, only anger boiling him now. “I can’t believe you,” he finally said, grabbing his shirt from the floor.

A panicked expression crossed over her face. “Rick—” she called out again as he started buttoning himself up. “I—I didn’t mean it like that.”

He took her bra and her dress and threw them at her. “Yeah, really?” he replied coolly. “Then what did you mean?”

Bowing her head, she stayed silent, her fingers playing with the hem of her dress. Rick shook his head again. “I’m not upset because you’re refusing to have sex with me, Amanda,” he told her openly in the same clipped tones. “I’m frustrated, very. But I am upset because you don’t even give us a chance.”

Her head snapped up after that, giving him a look, and Rick saw hurt in her eyes, too. “That’s not true. You know it’s not true. I wouldn’t have been here wearing this damn thing—” She raised her hand, shaking the satin dress that she had draped over her nakedness. “If I didn’t want to be.”

“I know that,” Rick replied. “But—” He paused a second. “Why didn’t you bring a condom tonight, Amanda? What happened to it never hurts to be prepared?” he questioned. “I know you. There’s no chance in hell you didn’t think I wouldn’t want to have sex with you tonight, and yes. I do want to get into your pants.” His tone turned surly acerbic as he threw her another look. “I’m a man. Forty years old. How long do you expect me to behave like I’m thirteen?”

She bowed her head, but started putting her dress back on silently, leaving her bra on the pillow. Rick wondered if she was even aware. She didn’t seem to be. He turned to the door and started walking.

Panicked, she sprung to her feet, the satin dress sticking to her body with the faint remnants of honey that were still left on her skin. It colored the nude dress with a hue of light golden and copper, and her wild look with tousled hair hurt Rick worse. Her neck, collarbone, and the side of her breast where her cleavage was left bare had started sporting small hickeys, love bites that Rick had made a few minutes ago.

Rick let out a subdued sigh. “Where are you goin’?” Amanda asked, suddenly perking up, looking at him anxiously.

“Back to the house,” Rick answered calmly. “I want to rest.”

She shook her head in a quick jerk. “No… No. If we return to the house now everyone will realize we had a fight.”

Turning back to her, Rick stared at her, his eyes almost widened, because he couldn’t fucking believe what he had just heard. “Amanda, I really can’t believe you. Are you more worried about the fact that the others would know we had a damn fight than actually having a fight with me?”

Bewildered, she stared at him again. This time Rick heaved a deep sigh as he opened the door. “You’re unbelievable.”

Rick left the management office, and thankfully for all things good and sacred, he heard the soft clinks of heels following him. If she’d insisted that she would stay, Rick didn’t know what he could do. Angry or not, he would’ve never left her alone here without him. He didn’t care if they were safe behind the walls or not. Nowhere was truly safe, but Rick would truly lose it if she wanted to stay here alone.

But she hadn’t, so she was just following him silently, staying a few steps back. Rick exhaled another deep breath tiredly. His emotions were running wild, swinging between anger and exhaustion, and in the meantime, frustration was a constant in him. He just wanted to go to the house now, lay down with his kids, and listen to their breathing as they slept while Rick just stared at the ceiling.

There was no sleep for him tonight, he damn well knew it.

When they approached the house, Rick saw the lights still on behind the porch. They were still up. He felt the same reluctance Amanda had trotting on the driveway path. An encounter with others was the last thing he wanted to deal with, but Rick didn’t care. He had more stuff to care about—like the woman silently treading behind him, but he didn’t want to think on that anymore tonight, either.

The porch was empty, Daryl had to be around back. Rick opened the door as Amanda stopped behind him again with a word. Stepping inside quickly, he crossed the hall directly and went to the staircase. Upon hearing the door opening, but no one coming inside, a few heads popped out of the living room’s doorway when they were in the middle of the staircase.

“It’s Rick and Amanda,” Rosita’s accented tones remarked a second later, and Rick heard the bafflement in her usually stoic tones. “They came back.”

Rick quickened his steps, crossing the landing upstairs and striding to the left. Amanda stopped at her bedroom as he continued to the next one, twisting aside to steal a glance, hesitant as her hand hovered over the doorknob.

He was just tired now. Opening the door without a glance, without a word, he walked into his bedroom. The door closed behind him with a heavy thud, but not before Rick caught a glimpse of her flinching.

# # #

As the door closed loudly behind him, Amanda flinched back at the sound.

Her eyes pricking, she barely kept her tears at bay. She knew she was already a sight, her dress all sticky and stained; her hair tousled, her makeup ruined. And the looks she picked up glancing in the living room as she climbed up—

She hitched on a breath, and quickly cracking the door to her room, threw herself inside. The room was empty, Beth had to be downstairs too with the kitty, and at the moment, it felt good. She wanted to be alone. In fact, she even wanted to be outside, to go out and find herself a tree she could curl up under and cry her heart out.

Instead, she just went to the bed and dropped herself down. Rolling onto her side, her tears started slipping from her eyes at last. She turned her back on the door. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this if someone came to check on her, but the nudging disturbance was still within her, prodding—she—she hated sleeping with her back on the door. Still, she kept her back on it. She couldn’t lock the door. It was Beth’s room, too.

Everything—everything was a turmoil in her. Every damn thing. She didn’t know anymore what she did, why she did what she did. Why the hell did she leave the condoms in the room at the last moment?

I am upset because you don’t even give us a chance.

Rick’s words echoed in her mind. He was angry, he was upset, and he was hurt. Amanda had made him feel like that. The acknowledgement made her feel worse as she finally gave in and started sobbing. The black mascara running into her eyes hurt her eyes even more, which made her cry harder as a consequence. She wondered if she could get even more pathetic, but she was afraid to ask that question now. A couple of minutes later, when she must’ve turned into an utter mess, a soft knock sounded on the door.

“Amanda—?” Beth’s hesitant voice came from the other side. “Ya okay?” the teenage girl asked.

“Yeah—” she made a noise, trying to calm herself. “I’m ‘kay.”

“Can I come in?”

Amanda stayed silent for a few seconds. She almost replied she wanted to be alone, but something held her tongue. Shaking her head at herself before she turned on her other side, she faced the door. “Yeah.”

Beth walked in, with the baby tabby lounging sleepily in her arms. The girl eyed her critically as Amanda drew up against the cushions a bit, still half lying on her side. “Is everything okay?” Beth asked.

Amanda gave her a silent look.

“Yeah. I know. Stupid question.” The teenager sat beside her on the edge of the bed, her eyes roaming over her body, taking the sight of her in. “What happened?”

“Had a fight—” Amanda mumbled, drying her eyes, smearing a line of black over the back of her hand. She wiped her fingers under her prickling eyes, too.

“We gathered that.”

She almost winced at the ‘we” but tried to keep her face neutral. Even imagining the whispers and looks behind her back made her guts twist into knots, so she tried not to do that. Beth was staring at her cleavage and the stains all over her dress. “Are—those honey buns?” the teenager asked, pointing at the remnants of crumbles, honey, cinnamon and glazed sugar.

Amanda flushed, bowing her head. She didn’t even want to think on that now—the way he ate the sweet off her skin, making her feel—she didn’t know—she thought she really had gone to another place.

“It looks like you didn’t only fight—” Beth commented slowly.

Trying to shrug, she felt tired and angry. Angry at herself for leaving the condoms in the room. Angry at Rick—for—for, she didn’t know why she was upset with him, honestly. Feeling him felt so good, having him doing that stuff with his tongue and lips, making her gently ride over his cock. It felt so good, desire burning inside her, but when he started going inside her, she—she just got scared again.

Maybe things would really have been different if they had a condom. She wouldn’t have reacted that way, but the thought of having sex with him again without protection was scary. She couldn’t do it. She just panicked!

And she finally made Rick snap, too. I’m a man. Forty years old. How long do you expect me to behave like I’m thirteen? The question popped in her mind again as she almost started crying again. She wondered if Rick would finally call it quits this time.

Amanda wasn’t the only woman in the world. In the prison, things had been different. Rick was still mourning back then, but he’d gotten over that phase, with her help or not, but he’d gotten over that phase. Perhaps he would just decide to move on now, thinking they were wrong for each other. Wasn’t that the exact way Amanda had tried to end things before?

Despite his own mixed up shit, Rick was still a family man at his core. He wasn’t like her. He really married because of that, not of a surprise pregnancy as Amanda had sometimes suspected. No. Like he said, Rick had just wanted to have a family. He wouldn’t keep doing this—whatever the shit Amanda was doing continuously. Burn her soul if she knew.

Her thoughts became so bleak, she just wanted to hide herself under the covers and cry… but as if Beth recognized her body language as she drew her knees up over her chest, the teenage girl suddenly pulled the covers from her, leaving the kitty on the bed.

“Up. Go take a shower, clean yourself—” Beth ordered her firmly. “You’re ruining the sheets.”

Amanda made a noise, half a laughter, half a sob. “I wanna sleep.”

“No. You go take a bath first, take off the makeup, then come back here. I’m gonna make you that sweet herbal tea of yours, then you can sleep.” Even the herbal beverage reminded her of Rick, the way he had tried to please her, make her happy, and she’d just accused him of trying to get into her pants in return.

“I’m sure you can talk over whatever it was that you fought about tonight in the morning—” Beth said. “This isn’t the first time you had a fight, Amanda.”

She tried to tell herself Beth was right. They had come back from worse stuff. A lot of worse stuff. They’d survived the woods. They certainly could find common ground. Rick might sulk and send her a few glares, but they would talk over it. They always did.

Straightening up, she slid off the bed. Behaving like a mess wasn’t going to solve anything. Beth was right. They left the room together, Beth returning downstairs as Amanda headed to the bathroom.

She tried not to gaze in the mirror, to not see herself, but it was a failed attempt. Her eyes darted towards her reflection. God. She really looked like a mess, but at least before crying, her face wouldn’t have been like this when she came back to the house. Small mercies. Her eyes caught the hickeys over her cleavage, her neck, her lips swollen with kisses.

What was done, was done. She would just hide them with concealer as best they could. Taking a quick shower, she washed the sticky remains off her body and slipped back in her room, drying her hair with the towel. She slipped into pajamas this time, wondering if Rick heard the noises she made. Would he want to check on her?

When the door opened a few minutes later, her heart started galloping, but her shoulders almost sagged when sunshine hair appeared behind her. Beth walked in, holding a big mug with one hand. The kitty cat was tucked in the crook of her other elbow. The sweet aromas filled the air immediately.

Amanda took the hot beverage in her hands and rested her back against the headrest. The baby tabby jumped in her lap this time as Beth sat next to her in silence. Amanda sipped from the hot beverage slowly as her hands gently stroked the kitten’s head. The baby started purring softly as Amanda started feeling a bit better. Stroking the baby kitten reminded her how it felt stroking Rick idly, but she tried to force her thoughts from that. Half an hour later, Beth changed into her pajamas, too, and they both slipped under the covers.

Amanda closed her eyes and turned on her side facing the door, tucking the baby kitten in her arms as Beth turned to the other side. She stared at the door, still stroking the soft furball beneath her hands, half listening to Beth’s breaths evening out as she fell into slumber, half listening to hear footsteps.

She heard nothing.

Tomorrow, she told herself. They would talk tomorrow.

Amanda would get up and make him those pancakes he wanted, with honey and cinnamon, and then they would talk. She wasn’t exactly sure what she could say, as she still didn’t know a damn thing, but they would talk. Perhaps she could just say that. Rick always wanted her to talk to him, to open up to him. He would understand.

She slowly slid into the darkness before the sunlight prickled against her eyelids again. Blinking against the rising sun, she slipped out of the bed silently, leaving the baby tabby with Beth in the bed and went downstairs. Rick would start making his morning patrol soon. He would really be shocked when he saw her…showing an effort.

Quickly, she assembled the mix for pancakes with the ingredients available. They had no eggs, so she used applesauce they prepared from the apple trees. Instead of fresh milk, she mixed up milk powder with water. Without any butter or vegetable oil to use, she opted for a little coconut oil, adding everything to the flour, cinnamon, and baking soda, with a splash of vinegar to activate the baking soda. She had no idea how they all were going to combine, but when she started cooking them in the pan, it didn’t smell that bad. In fact, it smelled rather good. She stacked them on a plate, dribbled honey over them and placed the plate on the counter right at the moment she heard heavy, yet careful, footsteps.

Amanda could recognize the sounds Rick’s cowboy boots made from anywhere, so bowing her head she smiled to herself, her heartbeat hastening again. She tucked a loose end of her hair back over her ear, waiting for him.

The footsteps stopped at the threshold. Amanda lifted her head as Rick stared at the plate, his face still having that stern, curt expression, his jaw set. He didn’t look like he caught even a second of sleep, his eyes rimmed red, his brows still pinched. And he was still staring at the pancakes. “Uh—good morning,” she mumbled quietly.

Rick crossed to the door with only with a dismissive nod. She felt something drop heavily in her stomach. He walked to the cabinet, got a glass, and poured himself a glass of water.

“I—I made pancakes.”

His head tossed back, Rick drank the water, and then set the empty glass down on the counter silently.

“I made them for you—” she whispered.

His eyes darted towards her as he brought the glass to the dishwasher, and pulling the door open, he placed it in the top rack. He closed the door, his movement so curt and tense. He straightened back up. “I’m not hungry.”

Amanda flinched back worse than the thud of the door in her face last night. Her eyes filled with tears as she grabbed the stool’s back, her fingers tightening. Rick opened a drawer and fished out a few black plastic garbage bags from inside and tucked them into his back pocket. He then started walking out.

“Rick—” Amanda called out to his back. He stopped and turned aside, waiting for her to speak again. “Can—can we talk?” she whispered, forcing herself to speak.

His eyes, those stern, curt blue eyes, still riveted on hers, Rick shook his head. “I don’t want to talk right now,” he said before he left her alone with his pancakes.

Notes:

Heh, a nigt to remember, eh? Sorry, hehe.

Feel free to get angry at them, they totally deserve it :) But really, I don't put warning tags for naught. I added that little tag for dsyfunctional relationships for a reason. Amanda and Rick are gonna make a textbook case for it.
This is the end of the first arc of the story, as things will get more heated in the second one.
Like always, I would very like to hear what you think. Thanks.
Ciaociao.

Chapter 11: 'Do you want to know her better?'

Summary:

As both Amanda and Rick plunge themselves into work following their disastrous date, Rick decides that they should get to know the townspeople better after a talk with Beatrice Reese.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Leaving the pancakes scented kitchen, Rick stepped out on the porch. He was still upset, still hurt, still weary, and a bit surprised too. The breakfast was unexpected, but Rick shook his head as the door closed behind him.

Did she really think that he would just sit and eat her pancakes like nothing like had happened? Well, she had also asked if they could talk, not hiding herself off somewhere, becoming lost like she usually did. Rick knew her attempt to make up was earnest. He didn’t doubt that. But still, he didn’t want to talk right now.

Instead, he turned his mind to things he needed to focus on. He had things to do, a hell of a lot of things. He didn’t get the chance to talk with Glenn yesterday after his discussion with Deanna. He needed to find the younger man and ask him what he thought about Deanna’s job assignment. Having Glenn as his partner didn’t really sound like a bad idea to him, especially now, after the last fight with Amanda.

She’d been right. With the way they interacted, they would never, ever have been able to be partners. They couldn’t work together. Hell, it didn’t even seem like they could date.

They’d left the place last night looking like shit. He’d better go and clean up a bit. He’d brought garbage bags to dispose of the food, and the small wagon he’d used last night to bring cushions and rugs was still inside the building.

The rest Rick was going to deal with later. He needed to start mapping out the grounds properly and check all the weak points for security. Yesterday he’d found a little kitten between a spot in the walls. If they weren’t careful, the next time they would find something else. Then he needed to think on contingency plans, evacuation routes, and safe houses. They had to be prepared, even do a couple of drills. Rick needed to see how the townspeople would carry themselves under duress.

Four days finished, Rick wasn’t still impressed.

They had to make another meeting and discuss plans and shifts. He wanted his own people up in the bell tower as soon as possible. Yesterday Sasha had checked the nest. Today they would start having shifts. Then patrols. Watches needed to patrol the perimeters every hour, not just sitting idly. Alexandria was a big place. They would have other posts in different parts of the grounds, in pairs, one patrolling, the other staying at their post. With their additional population, they would make the numbers. They had people. Seventy-one people.

Then they had to start outside patrols, checking the outer perimeters, and most importantly, set up safe houses and rendezvous spots. He was not going to have another prison disaster, running around in the woods like headless chickens. Never again.

Yeah, Rick had a lot of stuff to do, and a teenager and a baby to take care of in the meantime. He didn’t need time to deal with Amanda’s shit right now. Later they would talk. Not now.

Her expression when he told her he wasn’t hungry came to his mind, the way her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but Rick pushed it away forcefully, feeling frustration coming back to him.

Goddammit! They could’ve been laying in each other’s arms right now instead of this! Enjoying each other’s company, waking up slowly, then have sex again against those pillows! He could’ve made her feel good, could make her come all over his mouth right now!

Was being with him really that frightening that she just wouldn’t let herself go? Had to make sure to find herself a backup plan? Was he really that repulsive to her? He knew he was kind of an asshole, but Amanda knew him. She’d accepted him. That night after they were back from the woods, when she held him tightly, resting her head at his back, Rick had felt it, felt her acceptance, felt her admitting all of him; the good, the bad, the ugly.

Why was she running away from him now?

His jaw settled further as Rick kept walking to the maintenance warehouse. Perhaps that was why she always questioned them. Because she wasn’t sure of them as much as Rick was. Amanda was trying to deal with her feelings, with the intimacy they had, but this hurt. Hurt more than Rick thought it would. The fear was there, too, whether she would start questioning it again. Rick seriously didn’t want to hear that question ever, ever again.

Do you want us to stop?

No. They’d crossed that line, and it was too late to turn back now. They had to keep going ahead. Amanda had to understand that. Though, Rick wasn’t sure how he was going to do it. On his first real try, he got accused of just trying to get into her pants.

The anger flared in him again, remembering her words. Did she really think that he just wanted to have sex? That she was just a warm body to satisfy a need? If he wanted to get off, he would go jerk off, or better yet, go find someone else to fuck. They had people now, seventy-one people. Someone at least would be…interested in him. Beatrice Reese was already flirting with him whenever she saw him. But he didn’t want any other woman. He didn’t want to only get off.

Rick wanted Amanda. He wanted to climax with her. He wanted to have sex with her, share that moment together, hold her hand while doing it, stare at her eyes, let her see it—feel it—how much she meant for him.

Maybe she just didn’t…feel like he did?

The notion set his mood even lower, even though he told himself no. If she didn’t, she would have just washed her hands of him. She was still staying with him. She wouldn’t have slept in his arms the way she did if she didn’t feel the same way!

Anger incited in him further with little suspicious words in his mind and the hurt they brought on him, but Rick pushed all of them away.

He had no time for this. He had things to do. A hell of a lot of things.

Rick quickened his pace and yanked off the padlock of the building, banging the heavy metal door behind his back. It made even a better, louder metallic clank than the door of the master bedroom. Rick felt satisfied. He really wanted to break something, beat the hell out of some crap.

Hmm, perhaps he should just go out and kill a few walkers. Instead, he headed towards the management office. When he opened the door and walked inside, Rick was hit by a flood of different smells, still poignant in the stale air. It was a mix of food remains; saffron, meat, honey, and cinnamon all swarmed together. Underneath all of that, that distinctive smell of sex was still recognizable. No sex happened here last night, but by judging how it looked, no one would have believed it.

The cushions were half scattered beside the low table Rick had made, the crumbled honey buns scattered over them and over the floor. All of it brought back memories, the way they could’ve been right now, as Rick gazed at the pillows. He could just eat his breakfast over her buns now!

He almost let out a seething growl, looking at the sweet pastries, remembering the pancakes, and yanked the plastic garbage bags out of his back pockets. Even thinking of it now was making him angrier, for what Rick wasn’t sure of, so he just focused on tidying the room. Shaking his arms to open one of the bags, pulling its edges apart, Rick halted momentarily as his eyes caught something, the white lace, just beside the pillows on the floor. Amanda’s bra. She’d forgotten to put it on last night after Rick threw her clothes at her.

Kneeling, Rick picked it up. He could still feel the sticky golden remnants on the lace under his fingers, could smell the cinnamon. With a frustrated sigh, Rick folded the delicate underwear and stuffed it inside his front pocket. It was a full lace thing without any underwire, so it fit in his pocket easily. Just having it there just was making another kind of frustration stir in him again, but Rick dutifully kept it away from himself.

Things… He had things to do…

Opening the plastic bag, Rick started eyeing the food. Throwing away food had become such an impossible concept for them, especially as he smelled the casserole. The nights were chilly enough now, and the mornings cold enough to keep cooked food a few hours intact, even with meat. More than once they’d gotten food poisoning, so Rick was extra careful now, but nothing smelled bad yet.

He covered the casserole dish with its lid and placed it down in the plastic bag. The flat breads had become stale in the open air, but were still edible. Rick wrapped them inside a napkin and put it inside the bag, too. Next, he eyed the glazed sweets. They still smelled so good, so like Amanda, Rick reached out to take one. If he couldn’t eat her this morning, then he could at least eat her honey buns...

The main door closed with a metallic thud outside. Dropping the pastry down on the plate, Rick jerked up to his feet, his hand already at his hip. He trotted in the narrow space beside the pillows and the low table and opened the door. Crossing the open spacious workshop, he stood still.

Amanda was there, heading towards the office. She stopped upon noticing him, her eyes finding his. She looked like a cold marble again, her face stark, bare of any emotion, her green eyes devout of any warmness, icy. She’d returned to her Ice Queen persona, and seeing it made Rick’s chest ache, but he stood there watching her as she did the same.

“I came to tidy up the room—” she stated in an icy tone, starting walking away.

Rick nodded. “Me too.”

She gave a half jerk of her head that Rick wasn’t sure what it meant and resumed walking again towards the management office. “I got it,” Rick told her as she bypassed him.

Instead of an answer, she only tossed him a terse glance and continued walking. Rick followed her, his jaw squaring. He knew he was an asshole this morning, but he was the one who had reason to be offended.

Yet, she was walking ahead of him now as if Rick had kicked some puppies. She stepped into the management room and momentarily halted, probably having the same sense of deja vu Rick had experienced upon entering the room. Her eyes wandered over the pillows, then over the table. She eyed the plastic bags, then her inquisitive eyes started searching, like she was looking for something.

She slowly padded towards the pillows and rummaged through them. Kneeling, her hands slipped in between the pillows, her head bowed. Rick came back to the table and started tidying up again, gazing around dubiously. Her eyebrows pinched deeper as she started lifting up pillows, throwing them aside. Rick realized what she was looking for.

Amanda hadn’t only come to tidy up the room. She had come to retrieve her bra she’d forgotten last night. The thing inside his pocket almost burned him as he felt like a pervert who stole women’s underwear. He couldn’t leave her things there. Even the thought of anyone finding it was enough to make his teeth grit, but giving it back to her now seemed…disturbing.

She must feel the same way, as she started getting panicked. “I—I forgot my bra last night—” Her tone was urgent now as she still rummaged on her hands and knees through the scattered pillows and the corner where they had gotten naked.

Rick watched her, bewildered, her round small ass in her combat pants tilted up in the air just over to his direction, and despite everything Rick still found himself hardening again.  “Did you see it?” she questioned, craning her neck aside to give him a look.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah—” he accepted, his hand fishing out the tiny lace garment. “Found it.”

Looking at him with her head twisted back, Amanda raised an eyebrow, getting to her feet. Her expression was cold again, the urgency leaving her. She clawed it off his fingers, glaring at him. “Good thing that I kept my panties on, eh?” she prickled.

“Yeah, your virtue still is intact, thank god,” Rick replied crisply.

Her eyes flared with a green fire, Amanda glowered at him. “Clean up your mess yourself—” she bit off before she turned to walk out.

Rick growled after her but followed her advice and resumed his cleaning. He needed to concentrate on something, because a part of him was already thinking of catching up to her and kissing her. Her cattiness and his frustration combined together was doing nothing good to him.

He quickly tidied the room and loaded the rest of the food, pillows, rugs, and the crudely assembled low table with platters and tablecloths on the wagon and started dragging it back to the house. He left the wagon in the garage and washed his hands beside the little tap for gardening at the wall.

Wiping his wet hands dry on his jeans, Rick walked into the house. He was getting hungry. He couldn’t eat honey buns after Amanda had left. The taste of them would just make his temper worse. Even looking at the sweet pastries was making him grit teeth. Rick headed for the kitchen to fix himself a quick bowl of oatmeal.

The others were inside, having breakfast. Amanda was holding her baby tabby in her arms, trying to feed her with powdered milk with one of Judith’s smaller baby feeders. The sight made his temper deflate suddenly, watching her smile down as she delicately held the baby tabby in her hands.

The pang in his chest hurt a bit further. Pancakes, Rick thought the next second. He should eat his pancakes. He was cranky out of bitterness this morning, but she’d prepared for them. He wandered his gaze around the kitchen, trying to find them, but there were no pancakes.

Had they eaten all of them? The others looked like they’d finished breakfast, and Rick couldn’t see any traces of pancakes anywhere. His eyes circled around the kitchen again before he turned to Amanda. “Where are the pancakes?” he asked. “Are they gone?”

The notion disturbed him suddenly. They were his.

When Amanda lifted her head up at him, the gentle smile over her face had vanished completely, instead only having that icy glower as she stared at him. “We ate them all,” she stated briskly. “Lost your chance.”

Rick’s glare turned into a glower as well as he stared back at her. A silence fell in the kitchen as the murmurs of small talk suddenly quietened with their…confrontation. After giving her a last chilly look, Rick turned on his heel to leave the house, but then he heard the door opening outside, and a chirpy voice echoed in the hallway.

“Sheriff—hello!” Beatrice’s energetic voice carried over them as Rick twisted aside to look down the corridor. Clad in her sports attire, the young woman was walking towards him. “Oh, Rick, I was looking for you. The door was open.” She stopped at the threshold and looked inside as everyone stared at her.

She flicked her eyes at Rick, a small smile crossing over her lips. “Was I interrupting something?” she asked, sensing the tense air in the room.  Amanda scowled even worse, almost scoffing. Beatrice turned to her.

“No—” Rick answered tersely, turning his own gaze from Amanda to the younger woman. “What is it? Why are you looking for me?”

“I just left the house to go running—” Beatrice began explaining. “And saw it. My sculptures in the garden. They’re broken. Like they’re smashed—” she said. “There was no wind last night,” she went on. “Maybe it’s nothing, but can you come and look at it?”

This time Amanda really scoffed.

“Yeah, sure,” Rick replied, tossing her another terse look before he tilted his head at the other woman. “Let’s go.”

As he stepped beside her, Rick still could feel Amanda’s glare on him. “I didn’t hear anything last night, but you know, it feels weird—” Beatrice went on as they walked down the hallway, her voice a bit baffled compared to her usually chirping tones.

“Yeah—” Rick mumbled absently, opening the door for her. He flicked a look back toward the kitchen and saw Amanda entering the living room, carrying her baby tabby in her arms, her eyes still glowering at him.

Walking out, Rick pointedly let the door close with a thud again. Uphill, they trekked over to the town’s bigger houses where the Reese sisters’ house stood next to Deanna’s. They had a larger garden with colorful flowers and grass. Beatrice led them to the tiny pathway through them that was paved with small cut cobblestones and made her way towards the backyard.

“I made them myself for Clarice,” the young woman remarked conversationally. “I used to go to classes before. Got a workshop here. Sometimes I paint too—” she went on. “Clarice wanted things for the garden, so—you know, big sister stuff—” She threw at him a big smile. “Got it covered for her.” She sighed, waving her hand over the garden, pointing at the broken pieces of sculptures among the grass and flowers.

Inside the scattered clutter of ceramic and plaster, Rick spied broken pieces of angel wings and horns. His eyes narrowed.

“Angels and demons,” Beatrice explained with a sly smirk, trailing Rick’s narrowed eyes as his gaze fell on an unbroken small stature of a creature of both on the front side; a woman with angelic wings on one side, the other with horned wings. “Two sides of the same coin—” Her smirk turned a bit shy as she added, “Clarice hates gnomes.”

All things considered, the young woman wasn’t bad, just misguided, perhaps. In some ways, her quirky personality even reminded him of Beth’s, earlier Beth—before the woods.

The thought disturbed him in the ways it did Amanda. Rick pushed it away.  “Are you sure they were broken last night?” Rick asked. The broken statues were in the backyard. The ones in the front side were still intact.

Beatrice shrugged. “I don’t know. I saw it this morning,” she repeated. “I went out on the porch before I went to bed but didn’t check the backyard.”

Rick nodded. “Is there someone you are at odds with?” Rick questioned further. Beatrice was friendly, but her airy personality sometimes could get…annoying. Especially in their uncertain times.

One of her sculpted eyebrows arched up. Rick gave her a look.

In answer, the woman shook her head with another shrug. “No. Everyone loves me—” she said with those airy tones, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

On their own, Rick found his lips jerking up a little. There was something…lightening in the young woman’s airy attitude, too, something contagious like Beth’s used to be. “Yeah—”

“Hmm mm.”

Rick paused for a second before he asked next; “Did anyone come by last night?”

Her eyes held a flirting glint this time as she looked back at Rick. “No.” She paused a second. “Clarice invited a few friends over for playing pool in the afternoon,” she went on, “but no one else. It was just me, Clarice, and Maria.”

Rick frowned a bit. “Who’s Maria?”

“Our housekeeper—” she replied with ease. “We came here together. She’s been with us for a long time. That tiramisu…” She gave another fleeting smile, turning her eyes away. “I admit, it was more of her doing than mine.”

Rick didn’t know what to say to that, that the Reese girls still had a housekeeper, so he just gave a half of a nod. “Okay. I’ll keep an eye, but you be careful,” he warned. “Close your door at night and be attentive.” He shouldn’t need to tell them this, and it irked him he still had to.

But Beatrice just nodded again with another smile, this time even saucy, “Yes, sir.”

For a moment or so, Rick wondered why the hell the girl was trying to flirt with him. Beatrice was even younger than Amanda, probably in her late twenties. Rick wasn’t a young man, and the hardships of the last two years certainly took their toll on him. His lips weren’t easy to smile now, more prone to scowl. The attraction he felt for Amanda was something entirely different, an instant spark that ignited the moment they met, inspecting each other warily even after killing walkers together. But Amanda and Beatrice were as different as day and night. Beatrice wasn’t even his type, but the woman’s interest in him…well, it felt fishy.

The thought of the clueless girl having an ulterior motive was almost ridiculous, but Rick reminded himself everyone had an angle now. Perhaps Deanna had just put her up to this, spy on him in a…closer way. The old woman knew Amanda and he were on an item, but their relationship wasn’t defined.

His jaw squared at the thought as Rick weighed the idea of whether Deanna would try to pull off something like this, and he didn’t like the answer he found. Just as he was about to leave the garden and do something more…productive with his time than hunting down broken statues, if that was real, of course, not just a lure to get him alone in her home, Pete Anderson suddenly appeared at the fringes of the front yard.

“Beatrice—” the town’s doctor called out in a placid voice. “Is there a problem?” His eyes shifted between her and Rick as the man’s expression soured.

Suddenly Beatrice’s expression soured, too. “No—” she answered in clipped tones for her as she took a step beside him. “Someone broke my statues last night. Rick’s handling it.”

Rick almost scowled worse. “I see—” the doctor slowly said, then turned and left without another word.

“I thought you said everyone loves you—” Rick commented, turning to the woman.

Beatrice, her cool expression shifting again, smiled at him big once more. “Oh yeah, everyone does. Pete is just…different.”

Rick cocked an eyebrow up.

The former socialite giggled. “Heh, you know we should throw a party and mingle together,” she commented. “You’re here like a week, and you don’t even know the bridge club gossip.” She shook her head with a tsk playfully.

Rick looked at her, but couldn’t help but ask. “Bridge club? You have a bridge club?”

“Oh, we have all sorts of clubs!” she exclaimed. “Shelly loves playing bridge. So she set it up. Reg has his own gentlemen’s club of sorts, and Aiden and his pals have poker nights.” She paused and gave him a wicked grin. “Jessie started a book club a year ago. You know, if you need a good yawn, you can always try it.” A wink also accompanied the words.

Rick merely looked at her this time. Beatrice sighed with an exaggerated showy manner. “Pete and I,” she explained. “We used to date when I was in college.”

Processing the sudden information, Rick thought about it quickly, and almost shook his head. It didn’t fit. Ron was around Beth’s age; the math didn’t fit. Beatrice must be like twenty-eight at tops. “But Ron—”

“Jessie and Pete divorced before Ron started high school, then got married again a year prior to the outbreak,” the woman elaborated further, reading his mind. Beatrice let out another sigh. “Okay, allow me to fill you in. Pete had a house in Alexandria, too. We know each other from before. Our families were very well acquainted,” she continued. “His younger brother and I were playmates since kindergarten. We both went to Sidwell; you know the same circles.”

Rick realized what the former socialite meant. The blond doctor had the same air of the town itself, crème de la crème of their society. “Pete was my first crush, my first love,” Beatrice continued. The man was around Rick's age, so Rick could see it, the young woman developing a crush on her friend’s handsome older brother.

“They all used to make fun of me because of it, but then when I was in college, it suddenly happened. At first it was like my dreams came true,” she said with another laugh, but then a sigh followed. “But, well, you know, first loves… He was drinking heavily. That’s why Jessie divorced him before. Had family problems, daddy issues.”

Her tone suddenly got serious as Rick remembered the man’s drunken tones. “He isn’t a bad guy, but…a bit too overbearing. We broke up before I finished college. He got better after he remarried Jessie, though. She made him move out of the city, out of his circles, and they came here after.”

“He wouldn’t do this, right?” Rick asked, remembering the man’s hostile tone greeting them after their first real night in the town.

Beatrice shook her head, laughing. “Pete? Oh, no. That’s not his style. Rest assured, if he ever broke my statues out of spite, he would make sure I knew it was him who did it.”

With a curt nod, Rick left her. He still made mental notes to keep an eye on both of them, but perhaps it was a dog or a cat, although the town didn’t look like they had animals other than the kitten Rick had found yesterday. Before he returned to the house, he also made a little detour, and crossing the wide street lined by trees, he dropped by Deanna’s house.

The door was opened at the first ring by the blonde psychologist. “Oh. Hi, Sheriff—” the woman greeted. Rick was still in his civilian clothes, the idea of putting on the uniform still not fitting him. Yesterday he’d put it inside the closet, and when he woke up, or just rather got up from the bed after a sleepless night, the last thing in his mind was clothes of any kind.

His hands had gone to his jeans as his eyes caught his white dress shirt draped over the sofa at the foot of the bed, where Rick had dropped it last night, sticky golden stains over his collar and his cuffs. The sight had soured his mood even further, waking up, almost made him throw away the damn thing across the room. His temper subsided because of the still sleeping Judith and Carl in the bed, but he still left the master bedroom with enough of that temper still intact. He didn’t get a wink of sleep last night after he stepped inside, slamming the door in her face, passed the night staring at the ceiling, listening to her take a shower in the bathroom at the opposite side of the hall.

Then Rick went downstairs, his nostrils catching the smells, and despite the pancakes, he still snapped.

We ate them all. Lost your chance.

He almost gritted his teeth as Denise led him to the living area to ask for Deanna. The old woman came down a couple of minutes later. “Rick—” Deanna said. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

“We need to talk about security in full details,” Rick stated without any pleasantries. He was tired of small talk and wanted to get on with business. “The shifts, the watches, the patrols,” he continued stiffly. “I want to start laying out the town’s grounds in full scale and define weak points and escape routes.”

Deanna nodded. “Okay. I’ll send word to Aiden.”

Rick frowned faintly, but restrained himself from making any further sign of annoyance. He had no desire to participate in anything with Aiden Monroe, but the older Monroe son was still the head of security. Rick wondered how the hierarchy between them was going to work, if it was truly ever going to work. Deanna seemed like she wanted to keep a controlling hand over her firstborn, too, separating the security and policing from each other, getting him a friendly partner as she preferred Rick focused more on the security.

Speaking of which, he still needed to talk to Glenn. Though the talks might have spread already. Nothing stayed hidden long in their lives now. Giving the older woman a jerk of head, Rick said before he headed back to the door, “We’ll come in an hour.”

When Rick finally returned to the house, he found Amanda resting against the corner of the beams of the porch. The baby kitten wasn’t with her this time, so she was alone, standing still propped against the length of the beam closest to her as she serenely watched him walking to the porch.

Their eyes drew to each other, and they kept their gaze locked as Rick slowly climbed up the steps. Her expression was closed off, but before Rick passed by her, he heard her voice.

“Took you pretty long to check out a few broken statues.” From the side, Rick could only see her profile now as she commented aloofly, still facing ahead. “Made you rescue her cat from up the tree, too?” Her voice was as dry and crisp as the fallen leaves on the streets.

“No—” he replied in the same way. “I only do that for you.”

Amanda scoffed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she did it herself,” she bit off, slanting him a look, twisting her head aside. “She seems rather interested in you. Why don’t you go ask her out?” she pushed even further, her obvious jealousy making her cattier. Rick turned to her, scowling, his own temper finding him again. “She looks like she wouldn’t mind tasting your honey buns.”

As his jaw squared more, Rick thought about repeating that he only did that for her, but instead, he settled with glowering at her. She returned it. They glared at each other wordlessly for a full moment before Rick broke it.

“I called a meeting at Deanna’s house in an hour,” he informed her curtly, starting to move to the door again. “We need to discuss security.”

Inside he looked for Glenn and found him lying on the couch in the den, with a deadly stark expression. Rick thought they needed to be assigned to their jobs as a daily routine before they all started cracking up. Sitting idly wasn’t going to work.

“Hey—” he called out to Glenn, standing at the doorway. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Glenn sat up silently in response and rested his back against the two-seater couch. “You don’t—” he replied. His voice was still low, scratchy, sounding unused. “I heard about it.”

Nodding, Rick closed the little spare room’s door. “Yeah. Figured out you might.” He leaned against the door, watching the younger man as Glenn looked back at him. “So what do you say?” Rick prompted when Glenn stayed silent. “Do you want to?”

Glenn shrugged. “I don’t know—” he admitted. There was a pause between them again before Glenn continued. “I was thinking of going to D.C. with Abraham,” he finally replied. “M—Maggie would want me to.”

Rick shook his head. “Maggie would want you to go on, Glenn—” he replied. “Be with us, keep Beth safe.” He paused for a second. “Perhaps going to D.C. is a decision we have to reconsider.”

The more they spent time in Alexandria, the more risking it that way felt more…unnecessary. They still might go to check around for a supply run, to see…the bigger picture, but a mission on that scale for something they weren’t even sure if it would work?

No.

This place was what was important. Keeping it safe and secure. Alexandria was going to be their home. One way or another. That reminded him of the guns again, and Beatrice’s passing comment about the dinner party. “But either way, we can’t leave before we make sure Alexandria is safe.”

Glenn nodded.

“This place needs you, brother,” Rick said for the last. “We need you.”

There was no reply from the younger man this time, so with another small bob of his head, Rick left him alone to think it over.

# # #

After Rick stalked inside the house after their glare-match, Amanda decided it was time for her to get out. Rick probably was going to dawdle in the house until he left for the meeting, and Amanda had no desire to be in the same vicinity with him at the moment.

Even staying in with others after he’d left was bad, so Amanda had decided to take a bit of fresh air on the porch. It was nothing to do with her eyes trailing towards the damn woman’s house uphill and across from them. Or that she might catch a glimpse of them standing in the house’s garden if she angled herself and squinted…Nope. Nothing to do with that.

Rick became even more cross when he learned she gave the pancakes to the others. What did he expect her to do? Saved them for him, after he refused her like that? He ought to be glad that Amanda didn’t throw them in the trash can right away! The thought had crossed her mind, since the temptation was great. She almost did it, too, but there was no way she could waste food like that. So she’d given them to the kids. They’d been happy, at least!

If he wanted pancakes, he should go ask Beatrice. The woman didn’t look like she would mind it, either.

Her ire edging more heated, she scoffed under her breath, her eyes drawn again uphill. She knew her bitchiness was due only partly to the older Reese sister. The airhead girl’s flirty nature was only making it worse after last night. Though, perhaps, she might have to get used to…competition.

The idea made her scoff lowly again. She had to admit in the world they lived in, a man like Rick was a good catch for most women, a protective, providing family man. His savage side even made him a much better kind of choice. But he also still had some gentleness, knowing kindness better than violence. And he was a handsome man, too, even though he mostly looked like he was oblivious of that fact. Amanda had noticed him at first glance, felt a basic attraction at that first moment. Even she kind of flirted with him in the woods.

Her mood soured further at the admission, and unnamed fears started spinning in the dark parts of her mind. Amanda chased them away. She didn’t need to torture herself more with…thoughts.

She needed to cool down, get herself some distance. Run.

Turning, she was glad to see Rick wasn’t in the hall, and quickly climbed down the steps. Beth and Carl were already gone to tour the town or doing whatever they did in the day since they came to Alexandria. Running around the track might give her a good excuse to look around, too.

She didn’t want to spy on Beth, but well, she didn’t mind knowing what the teenager was up to. Beth said she didn’t want to go to that school thing, said they had nothing to teach her, so Amanda had better start training classes, perhaps. Give them something else to focus on other than smokes and…other stuff.

The thought almost made her heave deeply, remembering herself from last night. Rick and she looked like they needed something else to focus on, too. She gulped, but also wondered if that was why Rick called a meeting today, to focus on something else other than their relationship. She better follow his example.

After she quickly changed her clothes and slipped into the sneakers she’d found, she left the house. She started circling the track, her pace getting faster, but she couldn’t see neither Beth nor Carl around anywhere. She did see Beatrice, though, doing the same thing as she was. The younger woman caught her on her second lap, opening her mouth to greet her, but Amanda stared ahead, just picking up her speed and passing her, this time sending a clear message.

She had no desire to get friendly with a woman who didn’t mind getting a bit too flirty with a man who she must know had…a thing. That gossip must be heard all around town! They didn’t walk hand to hand in the town like high school sweethearts, but everyone must have clued in on it. When Amanda kind of flirted with Rick in the woods at their meeting, she had backed down after seeing his ring!

Aiden saw her as he left his house, and greeted her with a tip of his head, giving her a half mile. For a second or so, the temptation found her, to get back at Rick, make him jealous as well, but the next second, she drew away from the…alluring idea. She shouldn’t get that…petty. And, she didn’t want to flirt with Aiden Monroe. But she didn’t want to get the cold shoulder from Rick, either. It didn’t look like she was getting what she wanted these days.

And what the hell was it that she wanted anyways?

Amanda wanted Rick, yes, but she was also running away from him. She bowed her head, her eyes staring at her running feet, and she felt the same confusion in herself again, the same tangled mess. Closing her eyes, she tuned out all of her thoughts and just ran.

Before the hour finished, she headed back to the house. Rick wasn’t inside, so he’d already left, even though she didn’t see him outside. Beth and Carl were still missing, and she learned Aaron had come for Joan to bring her to the infirmary to meet with the doctor. Judith and Mika were with Carol as they played with the kitty.

Amanda was dripping wet with perspiration, breathing laboriously, her face flushed, her hair damp. She had run like a madwoman, but she didn’t care. It’d settled her down. She trekked towards Mika and Judith who was playing with the kitty on the rugs. “Hey—” she greeted them.

“Hey—” Carol replied. “Came back from running?”

Amanda nodded as Mika lifted her head. “Amanda—” the ten year old called out eagerly, stroking the baby tabby’s head. “What’s her name? Did you find her a name?”

She shook her head. “No.” She was still calling the baby cat in her mind as kitty. Her eyes drew to the baby, eyeing her light orange-golden fur with stripes and dots like all tabby cats. She stared at the kitten as Judith tried to hug the baby cat, crawling further. 

“How about Cinnamon?” she asked suddenly, a smile slowly curving up as Judith hugged the kitty. “She looks like honey and cinnamon, huh?”

“Like your pancakes this morning!” Mika cried out.

Amanda smiled further and sat down beside them, taking Judith into her lap and started playing with the kitty with the baby. “Do you like it, too, honey?” she whispered to the baby girl. “You’re Honey—” She threaded her fingers through the baby girl’s golden hair, smiling. “And she’s Cinnamon.”

She hung out with the kids for five minutes, during which Carol slipped away. Rick had left with Glenn, as the other man decided to take Deanna’s offer. Amanda felt good. A duty such as this was going to be good for the younger man. They all needed duties.

Amanda had already lost enough time with dates and dinners. She really needed to start planning her class and prepare her training field. She’d been planning a lot of stuff in the prison. An obstacle course, shooting lessons, knives, self-defense. Perhaps she should even ask Abraham’s help to set up more of a military boot camp. She could use that herself. She needed to practice. Get better. Be prepared. She remembered the boxing studio Beatrice had mentioned yesterday. Tomorrow she was going to hit the ring.

Leaving the kids playing with Cinnamon, Amanda went upstairs to take a quick shower and get ready for the meeting, her mind already taken with preparation and a fully planned day.

She quickly changed into her combat pants and another white shirt she’d found, but before she left, her gaze caught her backpack. She stood still in the room for a few second, she ran a hand over her face, breathing deeply. She went to the head of the bed, then returned, thoughts all swirling inside her… But I am upset because you don’t even give us a chance.

She paced in front of the bed, her eyes slanting looks at the backpack as Rick’s words echoed in her. She halted for a second, then before she changed her mind, she rushed to it, found the condom package inside and stuffed one into her back pocket.

When she arrived at Deanna’s house, they were all already inside the living area. Aiden had come with Nicholas, and Rick had brought Daryl and Glenn.

They were all seated around the long, oval-shaped dining room table. The psychologist was with Deanna’s husband, sitting at the other side of the table as Deanna’s both sides were taken by Rick and Aiden. Glenn was at Rick’s other side, with Daryl next to him as Nicholas sat beside Aiden. Next to Daryl, there was the psychologist, which left her the only empty space at the table: next to Nicholas.

Amanda walked to it as Rick scowled, his eyes sharpening, and his hands playing with the edge of papers in front of him. He didn’t like her sitting at the opposite side, Amanda could tell. She could also understand the sentiment. It felt…weird.

“Hello, officer—” Deanna greeted her as Amanda sat down gingerly, nodding. “So as everyone is here, I think we can start.”

Before anyone else spoke, Rick skidded the papers in front of him over to Deanna. “I prepared a shift plan for the watches, outlooks, and patrols,” he quickly started. “Four shifts per day, three different teams; main entrance, east side to the woods, and west side to the road. The river and hillside give us enough protection at the north and south.”

They’d talked about that briefly before as Amanda noticed it, too, but Rick seemed to have spent a bit more time on them than her, and the idea irked Amanda in a way she didn’t expect. When she’d wasted time on thinking about them, Rick seemed like he’d used it to plan shifts and such.

“We can have a single person for the nest up in the bell tower, can even make it an eight-hour shift. Me, Sasha, Amanda—” He inclined his head at her briefly. “Even Abraham, I think, as long as he stays,” he went on, “but we pair up for the watches. One stays put, the other patrols every hour.”

“Every hour?” Nicholas almost exclaimed. “We don’t need to make a tour every single hour.”

“Yes, we do—” Rick encountered firmly. “I spotted a few weak points along the older masonry wall. Found a little kitten yesterday. Today we find a kitten, tomorrow we find a person. We need to define the weak points, reinforce them as best as we can, and check the grounds routinely.”

Nicholas tossed a glance at his own leader, but Aiden stayed silent, staring at Rick, gaze hard. “Teams—” Aiden said after a while, “How do we do it? Alexandria lies over more than sixty acres. That’s gonna take a lot of manpower to rotate the shifts in pairs and still keep the daily routine in town,” he pointed out. “We can’t take shifts on the days we go out. And who’s going up?”

“You’ve got seventy-one people—” Rick reminded him. “We might take up on the shifts a bit more than the others because we also have to patrol outside—”

“Patrol outside—” Nicholas this time exclaimed and looked at Aiden directly. “Are you really serious about that?”

“I already told you,” Rick replied, deadly serious. “You need to control the perimeters outside and inside, unless one morning you want to wake up with a tank waiting outside your walls.”

“What?” Aiden echoed back as Amanda almost sighed.

The rest of them stayed silent.

“There are walkers, too,” Rick continued as if he didn’t make such a comment. “You need to keep your neighborhood clean. Walkers herd up. The more you let them wander around, the more they draw each other.” His gaze turned to Aiden as he addressed the younger man directly once more. “With our numbers combined, we could rotate the shifts. When Amanda starts her classes—” He jerked his head at her even though his eyes rested on Aiden, “you can assign more people to the shifts. The townspeople, they all have to take the course and participate.”

After that Deanna spoke for the first time. “No. We don’t force anyone to enroll for the patrols if they don’t want to. That’s a volunteer job, not an obligation.”

Rick’s jaw squared worse. “You assigned Joan to be an apprentice of the doctor, forbid her to leave the town—” Rick reminded the woman firmly. “That wasn’t voluntary.”

Her face getting colder, Deanna shook her head. “That was different. And I thought I made myself clear on the subject.”

The way the older woman uttered the words almost made Amanda wince. The hypocrisy turned her stomach, but Amanda kept her face straight. At least Deanna wasn’t so much of a hypocrite as she regarded her own son in the same way as well.

Rick’s expression was cold as Deanna’s as he answered. “Learning how to survive, to protect what’s important isn’t only an obligation, but our reality. If you want to live, you have to learn how to fight.”

“That might be true for the wilderness, but that’s not what Alexandria is,” the old woman stated sternly, and Amanda heard the same stubbornness in her tone the way she heard in Rick’s. “You can start a mandatory course for basic survival skills for all adults, but Alexandria isn’t turning to a police state.”

Rick’s jaw was so set after the declarations, Amanda decided to interrupt before things turned awry. Twisting in her seat, she turned to Deanna. “If you give them a chance, people want to protect, want to fight for their loved ones—” she repeated Rick’s words to Lamson, her eyes flickering to him. “I’m sure there will be enough volunteers.”

The older woman nodded briskly. “That’s what I’m hoping for as well.”

After that Amanda’s eyes darted over to Rick, and they shared a brief glance. Underneath the stark intensity in his stern blue eyes, Amanda saw something else as deep seated as his irritation with the old, stubborn leader. Concern. Rick was getting worried.

“We need to organize a gathering,” he suddenly stated, as firm as informing them that they all needed to learn how to fight. “A dinner party, most likely. I saw Beatrice today.” Amanda tried not to scowl at the words, she really, really did. What the hell was he talking about?

“She said we should mingle together—” Amanda shot him another glare, the worries in her mind taken over once again by personal life. “She was right,” Rick continued. “You were right. We need a smooth transition between us. And the best way to achieve that is to get to know each other better.”

Amanda narrowed her eyes further, hearing the words, but Deanna seemed pleased. “Yeah, that’s a good thought—” the old woman nodded slowly in agreement. “I’ll talk with Beatrice. Planning dinner parties is her specialty.”

It was almost enough to make Amanda grit her teeth. They left the house a half hour later, after going over Rick’s shift plans for the week. He also started talking about flower beds and stuff, but by that time, Amanda had half zoned him out, a part of her mind still processing Rick’s request…

Rick Grimes wanted a damn party. To get to know them better. She wondered if there was someone he particularly wanted to get to know better. She thought he wanted to know her better! Not someone else!

They walked to the house. Before he slipped inside with the rest of them, Amanda, clawing at his forearm, stopped him. Rick turned to her at the doorway.

The eyes looking at her were still stern. He was still pissed at her. Good. Amanda was pissed, too.

“What was that?” She pushed him away from the screen door so the others couldn’t see them. “The party thing—” she added when Rick gave her an arched eyebrow. “Do you want to know Beatrice better?” she lashed out in a hiss, her nails digging into his skin.

Rick dipped his head and looked at his forearm, then lifted his head up at her. “You’re really a jealous woman, Amanda,” he told her with a smirk.

She fucking wanted to wipe it off his face. “Don’t—”

“I don’t care about parties,” he cut her off. “I need a distraction.”

“For what?”

“For breaking into armory.”

Notes:

Hehe, now, our new challenge is the Dinner Party :) I just couldn't let it go, and Rick being manipulative, sly, and sleek is my favorite, and also making Amanda jealous indirectly in the meanwhile. Multitasking guy ;)

I'm having great fun with Reese sisters. As I based Clarice from Carla from Elite, Beatrice is totally based on Alicia Silverstone's character from Clueless, haha, because why not? She's just an older, 28 years old version of her. So, she needed to have her housekeeper/nanny together, too, hehe. I'm making a new version of Pete Anderson, and things are very...complicated over there, too.

And Cinnamon! The kitty originally was going to stay as Kitty for a long time, as I was also inspired by Breakfast at Tiffany's and Amanda's issues with attachment, but then I thouhgt of 'Cinnamon' and it just felt...right.

I originally wrote this chapter as a whole block of one, but it became like 17k words, so had to divide it in two. I'll try to upload the second one asap. (Though, I still haven't started editting it yet) then we'll have the dinner party, yay! :D
Cheers.

Chapter 12: 'Gotta earn my keep'

Summary:

Both Amanda and Rick continue with their newly duties, contemplating their relationship before the dinner party that Rick has plotted to get into the armory.

Chapter Text

After their little confrontation on the porch, Rick took his first shift at the top of the bell tower, both to try to cool off and to give the others a little bit of time. He wanted to clear his head, too, and think. So Rick just went up, stared at what lay ahead of them, and each time his eyes drifted towards his forearm, towards the faint marks Amanda’s nails had made when she got jealous, Rick snapped them up again. He couldn’t think on that now.

Rick had hoped things would get a bit clearer up on the heights, but no such luck. He could see the lands stretching ahead of them for miles, the gentle hill at the north, the river at the south, the surrounding woods at the east, and glimpses of deserted urban life at the west. Everything was in his clear line of sight. He couldn’t even see more than a few wandering walkers around, but Rick still felt as…tangled as ever.

Though one thing was still certain in him; Rick needed guns. They couldn’t rely on Deanna’s somewhat…fickle ethics and conscience. The old woman was as stubborn as Rick was in her outdated world views. If things went south with her, he wanted to be sure they could overcome it. He wasn’t going to lose Alexandria. The town was going to be their home, one way or another.

Turning aside, Rick watched the town, thinking of the expansion plans Deanna had started to draw. So much, they had so much to work on. His eyes swept the wall and the grounds. He’d divided the grounds in three grids, but perhaps he should’ve made a fourth, too. But that also would mean more patrolling, and arranging shifts was already going to be hard as it was.

He hadn’t wanted to admit to Aiden, but yes, it was going to be hard. But it was necessary. They did what they had to do. It probably was going to mean some of them were going to spend a day with only a few hours of sleep, but Rick was fine with that. He didn’t sleep much anyways, so he better put his awake times to a better use than staring at the ceiling.

Rick made a move to twist back to look towards the outside, but before he did, his eyes caught Amanda making a tour around the town. She was alone, neither with the kids or Beth, so he realized that wasn’t just a…stroll. No. Her body posture was too uptight for that, too inspective. Even from up in the heights, she looked to be in her cool, no-nonsense cop attitude. Why, Rick wondered, something itching in him again, seeing her like that.

His eyes darted down to his right forearm and under his rolled up cuffs, Rick spied the faint nail marks. The turmoil of his own feelings was right there again, just like always whenever his attention snapped away. The turbulence was always there; weariness, hurt, anger, arousal, all tangled together.

He was still angry at her for last night, but now he was aroused, too. She got jealous, forgetting their fight, forgetting how she kept herself distant from him, pulling out her claws, just because another woman showed him a bit of interest. But he was also weary, because she thought so little of him. And damn, he was frustrated at the same time, still wanting her like he’d never wanted anyone—wanting her madly.

Stopping the thought, Rick focused on the walkers outside the walls. That—that was the stuff he should think on now. Having a bird’s-eye view made another thing clear as well. Walkers. There were so few of them outside the town’s walls. He couldn’t see much of the urban side of the region, but the surrounding woods seemed too sterile for a community of Alexandria’s scale.

The town wasn’t so foolish that they made a lot of noise, but the dead always somehow got drawn to the living. The scents, the clamor of life attracted them. That was the only inclination they were left with, and they followed that basic instinct like starved, ravenous feral dogs. He couldn’t see anything to get worried about, but that gut feeling in the pit of his stomach was certain, too.

Rick didn’t like this. He didn’t know what that was, but he didn’t like it. They should be extra careful with the outside patrols. Perhaps some group, a bigger, better equipped group was doing the very same thing Rick planned to do. Sweeping the neighborhood clean and keeping it attended. Encountering another Woodbury was the last thing Rick needed right now. The clash between them would be inevitable.

He passed the eight hour shift up in the nest, watching, thinking, making lists, drawing plans in his mind, everything swirling in his mind at the speed of light as he surveyed the grounds like a hawk.

Amanda disappeared after an hour, and Rick saw Carl and Beth making a tour with their new friends. Father Gabriel ventured out to the church. Joan went to the infirmary. Amanda and Carol came out a few hours later, taking Mika and Judith to the daycare’s kindergarten. Abraham joined the construction team as they worked on the east part of the wall with Deanna’s husband and his right hand man. Aiden joined them, as Amanda took a shift at the gate with Nicholas.

Her gun was tucked in her holster, and her pinched expression looked like it eased off slightly because of that as she stood still at the main gate. Nicholas was atop of the platform, and they didn’t talk during the shift.

As evening beckoned, Sasha came up to take the tower post. “Hey—” the dark-skinned woman greeted him, easing off her sniper rifle over the balcony’s wall. “Spencer volunteered for the midnight shift—” she said. “This one is mine.”

Rick nodded. He would feel better if Sasha actually took the midnight shift, but perhaps the woman wanted to spend time with Bob. Although she had a weary look, instead of excited. Rick wondered if they had a fight, too, but didn’t ask.  

They needed to talk about guns, make a detailed plan on how to get into the armory. His idea was to slip out of the party when everyone was having a good time and infiltrate the house that was set up as the armory. It was just beside the community center, a sort of two-winged warehouse the town had for its supplies in the early days. The military had set up half of it as an armory with locked drawers and cabinets, and the other half was the pantry. It was the only spot in the town aside from the main gate that Aiden Monroe made sure to always post a guard out front.

Before he took the curve to their neighborhood, Abraham found him, coming down from the construction site. “Hey, Sheriff?” the former sergeant called out.

Rick turned and threw an irritated look at the man. He wasn’t in the mood right now. Not even close. The eight hour shift alone up in the heights with the chilly wind biting at his face didn’t do wonders to his temper. He stared at the man silently, waiting for him to speak. 

“I heard you had a talk with Deanna this morning.”

He dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement. “Yeah.”

“Did you talk about the mission to D.C?”

“No—” Rick replied stiffly. “We talked about the security, shifts, and patrols.” He gave the other man another look. “I added you in for a few, too.”

“Yeah—” Abraham nodded absently. “How about that. When will we leave?” he asked, sounding exasperated. “The clock is thinking.”

Rick scowled. “I’ve been thinking on that. Maybe we scout our whereabouts first. I was up there today—” He cocked his head at the bell tower. “The area surrounding the town is too calm. I don’t like it. We shouldn’t dive into something we don’t know.”

He had been already having second thoughts about going to D.C, but after what he saw up in the nest, his concern had become greater.

Reading him, Abraham’s massive red eyebrows knitted. “You’re getting cold feet.”

“I don’t take risks,” Rick replied. “Either way, the town isn’t secure yet, and Deanna asked you to wait for the other supply team—” he remarked with the same stiffness, foisting the blame on Deanna. He had no desire to get into that with Abraham Ford again. Let Deanna deal with it.

With a curt nod, Rick left the former sergeant and headed back to the house. Minus Amanda, who was still on the watch at the gate, everyone was gathered inside the living areas.

Rick sat with Judith on the blankets on the rugs beside Mika as delicious smells came from the kitchen. Beth walked into the room, holding up the baby tabby in the crook of her elbow. From his lap Judith bobbled up, getting excited as she spotted the kitten with Beth. He smiled at his baby girl, dipping his head.

Beth sat down in front of them and placed the kitten down as Judith rolled herself off him and crawled over to her. Beth smiled, too, softly. “Judy likes her—”

He nodded, eyes still on the babies.

Mika turned and craned her head up to look where Carol was settled in the armchair in the alcove beside the floor length window. “Carol—” she called out, “Can Cinnamon eat from what you cooked?”

Rick’s head snapped up. He looked up at Beth questionably as the teenager stayed silently.

“A bit,” Carol replied. “We’re gonna mince the meat with watered powdered milk to do a mush. We can feed her that.”

Mika turned back to Judith, nodding.

“Cinnamon?” Rick repeated to Beth, trying to keep his voice cool and clear.

“Hmm mm—” Beth hummed, stroking the baby tabby with Judith. “Amanda named it today.”

“It’s because of her cinnamon stripes, Mr. Grimes—” Mika interjected eagerly. “Isn’t she like that?”

Rick stared at the kitten, something twisting in his guts. The outside door opened and a few seconds later, Amanda appeared in the doorway. He slanted a look at her as she stared ahead while walking in. Her expression was still stoic, even though her face was flushed with the chill of outside. Rick had felt the cold bite up in the nest even worse, but his growing stubble had protected him from the bite, whereas Amanda’s fair skin had caught the worst of it. Looking down at them, her eyes lingering on Judy and the kitten, she flopped herself down on the couch, staunchly ignoring him.

Silence befell them as everyone fell silent, as if sensing the strain between them. Even Daryl was in the living room now, sitting on the floor beside the foot of Carol’s armchair, on the opposite side of Joan.

It was Mika who broke it again. “Carol—” the little girl turned to look at her, still caressing Cinnamon. “Can we watch a movie?” she asked imploringly. “You said last night we can do it tonight.”

Rick’s eyes were drawn to the TV set. It was a larger one than the master bedroom had, a 55-inch flat screen. The home theater system was set up around it, the speakers distributed to the four sides of the room.

“After supper—” Carol answered and tilted her head at her. “Go choose a movie.” She turned to them as Mika scurried to the entertainment center below the TV where the DVDs were stored on. “Supper is ready. Are we ready to eat?” Carol asked.

They all nodded absently, but they all dawdled. In broad daylight, they could better pretend things were still the same as in the woods or in the prison, but things were different at night. The danger was always present at the front of their minds, it always was, but even in the prison nights weren’t like this. They didn’t have a home theater in the prison, for one thing.

Before they headed to the kitchen, Amanda turned to the staircase. “You go ahead. I’m taking a shower first.”

Rick’s jaw squared. She didn’t want to be in his company eating supper. He sent her a glare, which she ignored again. His eyes moved to her neck pointedly, where his own marks from last night were faintly visible on her weather reddened skin. Most of them were hidden under the collar of her shirt that she buttoned up to her neck dutifully, but sensing his gaze, Amanda quickly swept around and stormed off upstairs.

After supper, Rick gathered them in the small den for the talk as Carl and Beth went with Mika to choose a movie to watch. Glenn took the couch with Carol, as Amanda and Joan settled on the folding chairs by the round little table. Rick stood beside the table, while Daryl stood beside the floor length window at the other side of the table.

“We don’t include the others?” Carol asked first after Rick quickly went over the plan.

Rick shook his head. “No. We break it to Sasha later, but keep it between us right now. I saw Abraham today—” he continued. “He wanted to know what we talked about with Deanna. He’s getting anxious.”

Glenn looked up at that. “When will we leave?”

“That’s a discussion for a later time,” Rick answered. “I saw something I didn’t like today. The countryside around the town is too clear. But we need to focus on the guns now. I want all of us armed, just in case.”

Carol gave him a questioning look. “I can go to the pantry in the day, leave a window slightly open, and you can just slip in during the night when everyone is at the party—” And that was why Rick needed to have the dinner party, not to get to know Beatrice Reese better.

His eyes slanted over to Amanda, who just stared ahead expressionlessly. Rick wondered what she thought now, maybe feeling like shit because she had so little trust in him. Because although her catty jealousy had turned him on, the other part just felt the same weariness. Did she really think of him being like that—going after the first woman who flirted with him after he confessed that he loved her!

Goddammit! They both might act like he hadn’t said those words, but Rick hadn’t forgotten. Drifting away from the topic, Rick focused on the subject again.

“The guns are under lock and key—” Carol continued. “How do you take them?”

Rick shrugged. “I can pick locks.”

Amanda shook her head. “No—” she slowly said, twisting towards him on her seat, her expression still taciturn. “You’d be the immediate suspect. Aiden and his men will be watching you. If you aren’t around more than a few minutes, they would get worried,” she explained coolly. “I’ll go.”

Rick’s jaw set as he almost gritted his teeth. “No. You’re on Aiden’s radar, too.” The words left his mouth in a rasp. Amanda wasn’t only on his radar for being one of the prime suspects. Aiden Monroe had also made his interest in Amanda clear. “He would notice your absence.”

Her eyes narrowing, they shared a glance as Rick met her gaze openly, unflinching. His words had double meaning, and she looked like she was processing them, too, but then Carol’s voice cut into the silence.

“You’re both, right. Neither of you can go. I’ll go—” the older woman said. “I will go with Joan.” She tipped her head at Joan. “No one would notice our absence. She stands as lookout, and I take the guns.”

It was Daryl who refused then. “You can’t pick locks—”

“I don’t need to—” Carol shot back. “They must have keys. We find them and snitch them away. Joan also has free reign in the supplies now for her work assignment.”

Joan nodded. “Yeah. I can say I want to make an inventory to see how the meds are faring, then look around.”

Rick looked between two women. “Can you do it?”

They both gave a bob of their heads at the same time. “A’right.”

“I’ll watch your backs outside—” Daryl roughed out after their assent. “I ain’t goin’ to no parties anyways.”

Rick wasn’t surprised. Most of the time, the hunter didn’t even come inside the house aside from meals, spending his time on the back deck whenever he wasn’t taking a watch or a tour, and he slept in the garage.

If Rick had a choice, he wouldn’t do it, either, going to a party like they didn’t have enough problems, but he was the one who had suggested it, so he had to. Besides, seeing all townsfolk together with their guards down gave him an opportunity to spy on them, to see in a relaxed environment how they behaved. If anyone would create problems for them, Rick would pick it up. He just was going to think of it like that; not a social gathering, but a surveillance.

Before they left the den as their talk finished, Amanda turned to him again. “Where’s Deanna’s office upstairs?” she suddenly asked.

Rick frowned. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m gonna break into it—” Amanda answered calmly. “I want to see that dossier she has on us.”

“Amanda—”

She cut him off. “Where is it, Rick?”

The idea of Amanda reading what was inside that dossier irked Rick. He didn’t know what was written, but his gut feeling was telling him whatever it was, Amanda wasn’t going to like it. Yet she was also staring at him with that look again, sharp green eyes darkened in her cool expression. She was in her own full stubborn mule state, and Rick was tired of fighting with her. “Third room on the left side. At the end of the corridor—” he answered crisply. “It’s in the first drawer.”

She nodded, standing up and walking out the room. In the living room, the kids had already started watching a movie. Rick didn’t recognize it, but it was a children’s movie. He was glad for that for Mika. Carl was seated on the couch, Judith draped over his lap, half asleep. Beth had taken the armchair in the alcove with Cinnamon, as the others scattered around the living room.

Leaning down, Rick took the baby girl from Carl and padded to the other side of the couch, resting Judy half against his chest, half across his chest, slowly stroking her back to get her to fall asleep. Daryl started heading outside, leaving them, but Joan suddenly snapped her head up and caught him.

“You won’t watch the movie?” the dark haired nurse asked, her voice brisk.

And Rick saw Daryl getting flustered—a faint redness rising up over his neck as he bowed his head, shrugging. “Yeah—”

Joan just stared at him silently. Daryl then swaggered back inside.

Rick bowed his head towards Judy to hide his smile. He absently wondered if he looked like this with Amanda—still looked like this… Rick raised his head as Daryl settled in one of the armchairs while Amanda strode off to Beth. She leaned forward and took the kitten from the teenager, then gazed around the room.

Most of the available seats were taken, so there was only space beside him and Carl on the couch or the big cushion in the alcove by Joan. She gazed at the spot by Rick, deliberately keeping her eyes away from him, but Rick stared at her in the same way Joan had stared at Daryl.

Her eyes darted for a second over to him, and they shared a glance. Holding her gaze, Rick scooted over toward the armrest just an inch, laying his arm across Judith. She eyed him a second longer, then after his silent, subtle invitation, started walking towards the couch, carrying her baby tabby in her arms. Rick fought to keep his expression neutral, as a pleased smile threatened to break out. He didn’t want her to sit away from him, but he was still pissed at her.

Gingerly, Amanda settled on the couch beside him, Judith in his lap as Carl lounged on the other side. There were a few inches between them as they both kept carefully apart. But Rick could still feel the warmth spreading from her, and his hand over his knee across Judith itched to go up over her shoulders and take her under his arm, curling her up against him.

The movie was playing on the screen, and it was the first thing Rick had seen almost after two years, but if someone asked him what it was about, he couldn’t tell them a damn thing. His mind was all taken up by her, by her scent, by her warmth, and the urge to scoop her against him. But he wasn’t going to give in.

So Rick stayed motionless, staring at the TV without seeing anything, his blood pounding in his ears, before suddenly, it became too much, too fucking much.  There was an erection definitely growing inside his jeans where he was half holding his baby girl in his lap. Shifting to move Judith from his lap to rest on his chest again, he felt his groin rub his jeans painfully. Rick almost hissed. Losing the battle, he twisted further and raising his free arm, he threw it across the back of the couch.

He wasn’t tucking her against him. No. He was just trying to relieve himself, to find the best position not to get a full-blown erection.

Watching the movie, her hand had started stroking the kitten’s head absently, her fingers making soft, lazy circles. Cinnamon started purring as Rick imagined Amanda doing it instead while his fingers made lazy circles across her curves.

It was definitely the wrong thing to imagine. His cock twitched, and Rick closed his eyes. He stirred in his spot, adjusting Judith again. Amanda leaned back further against the couch, almost sliding over it, the nape of her neck touching the side of his forearm briefly. Rick’s breath hitched at the contact, but they both stayed silent as Amanda stopped stroking the kitten.

She dipped her head, and in the dim light, Rick caught her flushed cheeks, angling his head an inch. His eyes moved to the kitten. “Cinnamon—” Rick whispered to her, only for her ears. “I liked it.”

Amanda didn’t make a sound, but Rick saw a half smile curving her lips under her bowed head.

They didn’t talk further, just stayed motionless like that as Rick stared at the TV blankly. Later in the bedroom, he passed the night staring at the ceiling, as his kids slept beside him in the bed. Rick had almost thought of putting Judy back in the mini crib, but that would make the baby girl cry, and Rick wasn’t sure they would deal with a crying Judith right now.

So Judith stayed, and Carl slept, snoring softly while Rick just stared up at the ceiling. He almost gave up and left the room to make a night tour, to cool himself off, but something kept him in the bed instead, all night.

When it was finally dawn, Rick got up, took a cold shower, as cold as he could handle, and prepared to go out. Today was a new day, and he had a lot of things to do. Prepare for the night. Go see Beatrice. Make a patrol outside again. There were flower beds. Winter was coming. The chill of the morning had him shivering. As he headed downstairs, his mind had already started making another list.

He headed towards the kitchen for a quick breakfast, but unusually for these days, the room was empty. Yet on the island’s countertop, Rick saw pancakes, honey and cinnamon drizzled over the top of the stack.

His smile breaking free, Rick went and ate his pancakes before he left the house.

# # #

The boxing gym had what Amanda needed desperately: a heavy punching bag.

Skipping running and her usual workout routine, Amanda found a few pairs of boxing gloves beside the ring, took the smallest pair, and started punching the heavy bag, letting go of all of her frustrations.

Amanda didn’t even know why exactly she was pissed off right now, but nevertheless, hitting something felt good. Fuck it, it felt fucking marvelous. Her shoulders hunched up as she leaned in at a slight angle, she threw punches one after another, breathing laboriously, her feet moving on their own, the right one ahead of the other, her mind focused on the task…well, mostly.

It still drifted off towards what made her wits tangle like this. God, if she could only fix up a yoga swing to hang from the ceiling, perhaps she really could manage to find some fucking balance. She followed a quick set of one-two punches then take cover sequel. Her flow became more heated as she picked up the pace, trying to shut off her thoughts.

She tried not to think of how she became last night when Rick made his move as they sat on the couch. Waiting for him to touch her, wondering if he was going to do it, anticipation twisting her core into a nervous ball as Amanda stared at the TV with blind eyes, not registering any damn thing before she found herself leaning back, the back of her neck resting against his arm.

She wanted him to take her in his arms as they watched the stupid movie, lay her across his lap, wanted him to play with her hair, touch her softly, stroke her—his hands sliding under her shirt, cupping her breast…

The images assaulted her as ferociously as Amanda pummeled the heavy bag. She could even feel the ghostly sensation of his hands over her breasts, playing with her nipples, pinching them just right, mouthing at them, sucking them, honey and cinnamon over her skin—tasting her.

She increased her pace even further, as fast as she could manage, just to shunt them away from her mind, but it was too late. The more furiously she hit the bag, the more viciously they leaped on her; her squirming on the floor of the shower, grinding at his face shamelessly, clenching him tightly, riding him over the bathroom’s tiles fast and rough. Rick fucking her like a feral beast against the tree, trapping her with his body and with his hands… His hands were all over her, on every inch of her skin, their sticky bodies grinding each other against the cushions in the dim light just before he slid inside her—

Getting dizzy, Amanda stopped, holding onto the bag to steady herself. She propped her forehead on the soft, sturdy material, breathing out deeply. The world was spinning, and she felt lightheaded, but she wasn’t even sure of the reason anymore. She must be a masochist. She had no idea why she kept doing herself this.

She was going nuts. Perhaps she just should go and see that shrink. She thought of Beth going to her, but it was her who needed to see the woman. Something wasn’t right with her. She’d always felt it deep down. Something must be wrong with her. Even her mother had left her in the hospital like an empty potato sack—

Amanda stopped that train of thought, almost hitting her head on the bag.

She should get a fucking grip on herself! Do something. Stop being stupid. Go and talk to Rick? Instead, she just stayed like that, hanging onto the heavy bag, heaving out deep, laborious breaths as she wondered if he saw the pancakes.

Amanda growled out loud this time, the throaty grumble escaping from her as she shook her head. She just couldn’t help herself. It felt so bad after last night, that in the morning when she woke up, the urge was too strong in her. She wanted him to eat her pancakes.

“Bad day, huh?” A husky male voice asked, and she could practically hear the smirk in it. “And it’s just started—” Amanda twisted her head and saw Aiden swaggering into the gym. “I know the feeling.”

Stepping back from the bag, Amanda shrugged. “It’s been a while since I threw punches at a bag.”

Aiden climbed up into the ring and bounded over to the other side, holding the rope up. “Wanna work out some more?” he inquired, starting making little shifts from foot to foot. “C’mon up.”

Amanda shook her head. “No. Just finished. Maybe another time—” She blew off his attempt to get…more acquainted, turning around. “Gotta go.”

“Will I see you tonight at the party?” Aiden called out to her retreating back. “Still owe you a drink.”

“No, you don’t—” she shot back as she walked out.

Sharing a drink with Aiden Monroe was the last thing Amanda needed right now. She needed to make up with Rick. She was dealing with…stuff, but she still wanted him. The condom was still with her. Amanda had stuck it into her sports bra before she left the house this time. She was never going to leave it behind again. Even though she got cold feet at the last moment again, it wasn’t going to be because they didn’t have condoms.  She didn’t want Rick to think as she was deliberately refusing him.

Well, Amanda was…deliberate in her actions, but it wasn’t like that. Not like she didn’t want him. She wanted Rick. She wanted him so much sometimes she thought she would go mad. Amanda wasn’t an idiot. She knew it was her fears blocking her, but in the end it made little difference. Knowing about them wasn’t making them magically disappear.

She quickly headed to the house for a quick shower, because she wanted to start doing some real surveying for a likely training field before she took a six-hour watch at the main gate. Yesterday she had spotted the field beside the maintenance building and the small greenhouse Rick spoke of earlier, and today she wanted to start sketching and planning. In the prison, she had less than ten people following her class and kids. If she started teaching larger numbers now, as they had talked yesterday, then they were going to have more classes, more shifts, ergo more planning.

Amanda wasn’t even sure if she could do it all alone. She felt like she was going to need help. If Abraham decided to stay in the long term, he was the best option Amanda could think of. He had been in the Army, had official training. She could also ask Rick for help, but well, as the things between them were the way they were, Abraham was the…safer choice.

Nevertheless, preparing an obstacle course was going to need a lot of manpower. They were going to need to dig a lot of ditches and trenches, then put up obstacles, prepare the field with ropes, traps, cargo nets, mud; all the usual joys of a boot camp. The mandatory course wouldn’t require finishing the whole thing. That was too much for the basics, but she still needed it for the people she was going to have to train properly.

Amanda took a quick shower, changed into her usual uniform now, combat pants, white shirt, and leather jacket, and finding a sketch book in the living room, left the house. Rick was with Glenn and Daryl, making a tour together as he held another sketch book himself. Amanda realized they were checking the wall for the weak points like he’d mentioned in the meeting yesterday.

She joined them.

“Hey—” she said, trying to keep her expression and her voice as cool as possible. She didn’t know where she stood right now with Rick after last night, but when she’d gone to the kitchen before she left the house, she’d seen the pancakes were gone.

She wasn’t sure if it was him or the others who had eaten them. But the rest of their people had this…instinct about them, knowing when it was time to stay the hell away from their things.

The look Rick gave her was on the same page with hers, as well. Not like the warm gaze with a faint smile when they were alone, but not a terse, stern glower, either. He looked equally neutral.

He eyed the book in her hand. “Planning?” he asked her.

“Yeah…” Amanda muttered, shifting her eyes around the grounds once more, mulling over what she’d been thinking in the shower, not them for a change. “This is getting out of my hands a bit,” she admitted. “I didn’t know I was going to train that many people.”

Without them, the town had around fifty people. Writing off Aiden and the other supply team that was still out, it would make at least thirty people. And their own people needed training, too; Noah, Father Gabriel, Bob, and the kids they’d found at Terminus, not to mention Beth, Carl, and Joan.

“We’re gonna help you—” Rick replied, nodding slightly, reading her concern. “You’re not going to do it alone.”

For a second or so, Amanda wondered if Rick was playing an angle to keep her inside the town, demanding a mandatory course for all of them. That way she wouldn’t have time to do anything else…like going outside without him.

I lied. Amanda remembered his confession. The sly act really smelled of how Rick handled things. Killing two birds with one stone, getting what he wanted at the same time on both fronts: the townspeople trained, and Amanda inside the walls.

The thought soured her mood, even though a part of her still liked that he wanted to keep her safe. But it didn’t work like that. Rick knew that, too. Amanda had to be out as much as her trainees. She shouldn’t forget how it was outside the walls. Shouldn’t forget the dread, the horrors. She couldn’t forget. Right?

“I’m going to talk to Deanna about the flower beds today,” Rick suddenly remarked a bit firmer, cutting out her dazzled musings. “We need to get rid of them and start planting before winter arrives fully.”

Amanda almost let out a deep sigh. “No. Let’s wait until the dinner party is done,” she objected, shaking her head. “That would upset these people.” She paused. “And we really should keep at least the front gardens. We can plant the backyards. They’re big enough. Deanna said the pantry is still full, too.”

To her surprise, Rick nodded briefly in concession. “Yeah. Might work for now,” he said absently, gazing at the front gardens, the colorful flowers. Amanda fought to keep her face neutral as her lips twitched to form up a smile. “How long do you have until your shift?”

“An hour or so—” she replied.

“Let’s tour together,” he offered calmly, motioning with his head. “We look for your training field, too.”

All together, they walked around the perimeters, discussing, taking notes, counting. Before the hour ended, they strode slowly towards the community center and saw Joan and Carol leaving the warehouse across from it.

Moving around, they found one of the gazebos at the backside of the center. Amanda saw snuffed cigarette butts on the floor inside the gazebo and wondered if Beth was still smoking. She also made a mental note to talk to her about it tonight before they went to the party. Beth was going into the ‘sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll’ phase a little bit too much for her liking. Amanda wanted the teenager to have fun with her peers, but if she got drunk tonight—

“We left one of the windows looking back open,” Carol supplied as her musings were cut off again. “We can slip in tonight from there.”

They sat in the gazebo that looked out over the pond, discussing which guns and ammo Rick wanted them to snitch away and where to hide them later as Amanda gazed at a few ducks in the water. They were so pretty, so graceful, as they lazily swam together, a few ducklings swimming in tow. Amanda looked at the one with the emerald feathers along neck and head.

“It’s a male—” Carol said, following her gaze. “The brown is the female,“ the older woman continued, gesturing to the brown duck that was behind the other. Her lips jerked up into a smirking smile. “Like most animals in the wild, the males have to be more…showy to catch the eye of the females.”

Amanda’s eyes cut over to Rick for a second as he went on talking, ignoring their small talk. “We need to make two stashes. A cache inside the house, the other outside. I found a place in the woods,” he went on. “That could be our own safe house, too. We’ll stash half there.”

As her time for her shift neared, Amanda left them and walked toward the gate. The woman she remembered as Holly passed the rifle to her as she left with her own companion. Aiden trotted downhill towards her a few minutes later. She narrowed her eyes. Rick had made the slots, but she was sure he hadn't paired her up with the older Monroe brother.

Aiden’s dark curls were still wet after his shower. Amanda gazed at his hair as the man threw at her a smile. “Hey, partner—” he greeted her.

Amanda frowned. “We’re paired up?” she questioned.

“I changed up the shifts last night—” the man said. “You know, mix the teams together like we did the last time.” He paused. “So we get to know each other better.”

Her expression settling, Amanda wondered how much further he was going to take this. She even thought of confronting the man, but what was she going to tell him? That she was in a serious committed relationship? It wasn’t even like they had sat down and talked about it. They were together, but their lines were as blurred as ever, and Amanda was scared as hell about asking those questions now. She adjusted the rifle over her shoulder and grabbed the makeshift metallic ladder of the platform beside the gate.

“I’m not that interesting, really,” she brushed off his attempts once again, deflecting the statement as she climbed up. It wasn’t even a lie, either.

Aiden followed her up. She almost reminded him one of them needed to make a patrol, but she didn’t do that, either. Either way, perhaps she just should tell him his method of approach was doomed. That Amanda didn’t fuck her partners. Rick was…well, Rick was her exception.

Amanda pulled herself up to the platform and stared outside of the town. She recalled what Rick had told her last night. Their surroundings were really too clean, too calm, and too silent. She remembered the eerie silence of the night they’d come to town. Each night since had been exactly like that, too. Amanda realized it much better now. The town was too silent. She could only see a few walkers around at the other side of the wall, wandering aimlessly.

Something was off, and Rick was right. Something wasn’t right, but Amanda couldn’t figure out what it was. It was that tingling inside her, possibly the same thing that made Rick alert, too. Their cop intuitions, perhaps.

“I disagree—” Aiden said, climbing up beside her from the ladder, interrupting her thoughts. “You’re the only female cop I’ve ever known,” he commented as Amanda watched outside the walls. “How did you become a cop?” he questioned further, taking her silence as an approval. “Was it your family? Your father? Is he a cop, too? Or your mother?”

Amanda almost laughed at his usage of present tense. “I don’t know,” she replied indifferently as she felt Aiden halt a second beside her before she decided to do a little bit of testing. “Never knew my parents. Born into the foster system.”

Like each time she uttered those words, a tense, awkward pause strained the air between them. She wondered if Aiden would take the bait. Most of the time slipping out a small clue to see if the words would circle back to you was the quickest way to determine someone’s level of discretion.

“I’m sorry,” Aiden said after the brief pause, like most people did.

Amanda shrugged. “It’s okay.”

It was okay. She’d thought she could at least have a name when she had started looking into her past after she got shot in her shoulder. Madeline Shepherd had been an orphan herself. The only thing her mother had given to her was her full name: Amanda Shepherd, not even listing a father on her birth certificate.    

Sometimes Amanda used to wonder why her mother had chosen her name, why she named her Amanda; perhaps there was a story behind it? She’d wanted to ask her that when she found her. She wanted to ask why. There were so many things Amanda wanted to ask her mother, so many whys, but dead people couldn’t answer any questions.

She turned her gaze inside the walls. “One of us needs to patrol—” she announced firmly.

Taking her dismissal, Aiden bobbed his head, holding his rifle against his chest. “I’ll go.”

Amanda watched his back, then just before he started climbing down, she called out to him. “Hey—” Aiden stopped and turned to her. “When are you going out again?”

She had to be out. That was what she was, what she did. I prowl, scavenge, and kill rotters. Amanda Shepherd in a nutshell.

“Next weekend—” Aiden replied. “We’ll plan a supply run to go check around. Rick isn’t the only one who wants to look around.” His rasping tone was almost hostile, but Amanda didn’t concern herself with it. If they were going to start a pissing contest like two animals in the wild, it wasn’t her business.

Amanda was just going to do her job. “Count me in, too. Gotta earn my keep.”

With that, she turned ahead and kept her watch.

Chapter 13: 'The only woman I want to know better is you'

Summary:

The dinner party leads to another confrontation between Amanda and Rick that makes them get to know each other better in a way they aren't fully prepared. In the meantime, things get complicated between the teenagers of Alexandria.

Notes:

Advise--dysfunctional relationship issues again. The tag *is* very, very meant for. So buckle up! It's gonna be a bumpy ride.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

In the evening, the party ambience even caught up to them. There was this buzz inside the house while they prepared for the night, a sense of anticipation. Amanda decided to put her thoughts from the day at the back of her mind and focus on the job itself.

This wasn’t a social call, but a work detail they had to attend. Amanda wanted to see those files, wanted to see what they had put under her name. She had an inkling that she wasn’t going to like what she would see, but still she was going to do it. She had to see. Not only for herself, but the others too. Rick, Beth, Carl, Joan - all of them. She had to know how Deanna viewed them. Rick had to get guns. Amanda had to see those files.

Despite that goal, the buzz was still there even inside their room as Beth rummaged through the closet to find herself a dress. Amanda wasn’t sure how to describe how the teenager looked, though. She looked absentmindedly excited; interested in an inattentive way as if this was an everyday occasion for her. Her hands were shifting through the clothes quickly as she looked at them with a half pinched, half bored expression.

Amanda almost sighed, then recalled the cigarette butts in the gazebo and thought of alcohol. Beth would definitely want to have a drink tonight, and Amanda wasn’t sure if she was ready to have that fight now. Perhaps she should just let her, like a normal seventeen year old would do at a weekend party, but Amanda also knew how those weekend parties with laced punch would also end up. She hadn’t lost her virginity in the backseat of a car, but half of her class senior year of high school did. Perhaps she really should give Beth a condom. Just to be prepared, like the one in Amanda’s own back pocket.

She still couldn’t decide. It felt—she didn’t know. It just didn’t feel…right. She tried to think what Maggie would do in her stead. Maggie definitely wouldn’t give Beth a condom. Amanda should heed Maggie’s wishes.

She turned to the teenager, walking to the closet. “Hey, Beth—” Amanda started. “About tonight—”

Beth cut her off. “I’ll be a good girl, Amanda—” She threw at Amanda a saucy grin, too. “I promise.”

“About drinking—” she continued, ignoring the wry remark as she held back a sigh. “You can have one, but only one,” she warned.

Even with that, Beth eyed her curiously. “You’ll let me drink?” There was disbelief in her tone, but also curiosity.

Amanda nodded. “Yes. But only one drink—” she repeated. “No getting drunk.”

“Carl can have one, too?”

“I don’t know—” Amanda answered truthfully. “I can’t decide on that. You need to ask Rick.”

She still wanted to stay out of that kind of discussion as much as possible, although if she let Beth have a drink, and Rick didn’t let Carl have one, that would cause problems, too. Especially if their new friends would also drink. Amanda couldn’t be sure of Ron, but something was telling her Clarice wouldn’t listen much to her older sister’s wishes.

Beth nodded in the same far away fashion before turning to looking for clothes. “Will do. If I do it, Carl will, too—” she said, and Amanda really hoped Rick wouldn’t really make a case against it for both of their sakes. Amanda was tired of fighting now.

“What are you going to wear?” Beth asked a few seconds later, still gazing at the closet.

Amanda sighed this time. “Throw me something black.”

She wasn’t in the mood for anything more…fashionable. Anything classic, basic, and black would nicely do for a dinner party.

Beth took a black dress out of the closet and turned to her.  “How about this?”

It was a little black dress, tighter and shorter than her nude one. It was also sleeveless, with four thick straps crossing over the cleavage, two of them attaching to a collar. The fabric wasn’t thin, sturdy enough that it didn’t look cheap, not that she would expect any kind of cheap clothes out of that closet, but she still wouldn’t want to wear it without black stockings.

“I need stockings for that—” Amanda replied, eyeing the hem of the dress again.

Beth shrugged. “Sure that we’d find some—” She bowed her head and tipped her head towards another pair of ankle boots with reasonable heels in black. “Those would go with this, and you can put your leather jacket on, too.”

Giving a nod, Amanda accepted. Beth found herself a little black dress, too, from the closet as Amanda dug out a pair of black thigh-high stockings from one of the drawers. They were sheer denier, but still better than bare legs. The night was cold enough, and she wasn’t going to have a Rick wrapping her in his arms this time to hold back the chill. The thought was almost enough to disturb her carefully rebuilt calmness, so she forced it away, instead turning to inspect Beth’s dress.

Seeing Beth, Amanda couldn’t help herself, she scowled a bit. Her dress was even tighter and shorter than Amanda’s, showing off a good amount of bare legs as Beth skipped stockings altogether. Amanda almost made a comment that perhaps they should find the teenager a pair as well but stopped herself at the last moment.

She was behaving like an old, conservative lady. Amanda had never liked showing off a lot of bare skin. It always made her feel self-conscious, but behaving like this was also disturbing her. So she just let it go. They put on a little make up, mostly mascara and eyeshadow, and left the room.

Downstairs, she saw Rick and Carl first. Rick was wearing a light blue dress shirt this time that made his eyes stand out even more, and her stomach flip flopped instantly as she thought of that while Rick gazed at her—his eyes sharpening with that glint. Amanda turned hers away, bowing her head as they descended the stairs.

“Wow, you look so…nice, Beth—” Carl breathed out as they stopped in the hall.

Beth laughed, shaking her head in a girlish manner. “Thank you, Carl. You don’t look so bad yourself, either.” Amanda turned to look at Carl. Beth was right. With his white dress shirt and dark blue jeans, Carl looked enough…fashionable, too. “Girls might as well watch out—” Beth joked.

Carl flushed, his cheeks reddening as Amanda turned to Beth, trying to keep her eyes from widening as a pinch settled across her eyebrows. The teenager just looped her hand through Carl’s elbow and started dragging him to the door.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she said. “You know what Clarice said. Lamborghini awaits us.”

“Lamborghini?!” Amanda asked, almost sputtering. “What Lamborghini?”

Beth stopped at the door. “Beatrice’s car. They have it in the garage. We saw it when we played pool. Clarice said Deanna doesn’t let them take it out, but she said they would take it to the party tonight.”

Amanda gave them a look as if they were mad. “Their house is just across from Deanna’s!”

Opening the door, Beth just shrugged. Amanda sighed. When they stepped outside, Rick turned to her. “Did Beth just flirt with Carl?” he asked dumbfounded.

Tossing her head backwards, letting out a big huff, Amanda wanted to hit it against the wall. She took her leather jacket from the coat stand in the corner and put it on as Rick eyed her, the sharp glint entering his eyes again. Her eyes darted across his trimmed stubble and hair, then towards the rolled-up cuffs. The faint scratches her nails had made were still visible. She quickly snapped her gaze away and followed the kids outside.

The condom was once again inside her bra, a satin black one this time, with a matching thong, but Amanda didn’t think about that as well as she headed to Deanna’s house alone. The cool air whipped at her heated face, calming her restlessness, but when she stepped inside Deanna’s screen door and navigated through the crowd that had spilled out onto the porch from inside, the drinks on the dining table were the first thing that caught her attention.

Amanda trotted towards it and taking a shot glass, she turned the liquor bottom up in one go. Bourbon—good stuff. It burned her throat as she swallowed it down, and she was half convinced to grab another one.

As her hand inched towards the second glass, Amanda saw Rick entering the room, too, a stern frown fixed on her. She dropped her hand, spinning on her heels and circling the room to get a feel of the place instead.

Inside the first floor was already heated, and people were everywhere. The talking was buzzing in her ears, growing worse, and children’s screams as they ran around as the adults chattered, talked, circled around… Getting warmer, she took off her jacket, hanging it on the coat stand in the hall with numerous others.

People were literally everywhere! A man in his forties bumped into her accidently, almost splashing her with the contents of his drink when a pair of kids ran by him like a pair of tiny tornados. Another one followed after them, screaming, as the man turned and muttered a half audible ‘sorry’ before he scurried after them, already yelling.

The whole concept had started to remind Amanda of the family picnics she was forced to attend for the police department, the chaos of it. But it was seriously the last thing Amanda needed to remember right now. The alienation she used to feel—the displacement—

Closing her eyes, she breathed out, her ears ringing with the soft buzz, but it was turning into a continuous shrill. She told herself it was better this way to slip away upstairs. People were good. “Ya okay?” she heard Rick’s firm voice as she felt his presence next to her.

His scent… It just filled her nostrils. When she opened her eyes, she saw his eyebrows were pinched with concern, even though his face held that stiff expression. Concerned but distant, they were still in that weird, awkward state as Rick continued to give her the cold shoulder.

Amanda couldn’t care less at the moment. “Yeah, just too many people.”

Rick’s curt eyes circled around the room, too. “Yeah. Also wanted them together in one place.”

 She made a mocking scoff. “Get to know them better—” she muttered.

“Exactly.”

“There’s a bathroom on this floor, but I’ll head upstairs when I see it occupied,” she remarked, changing the topic. The crowd was already scattered at the stairs, too, some even going upstairs. The problem was going to be slipping inside Deanna’s study, it seemed.

“Okay—” Rick said, eyeing the crystal tumbler in his hand, filled with amber liquid an inch at the bottom. He took a slow sip, his attention turning to the doctor in the corner, who was talking with Beatrice. His look had that sternness, his eyes cut like gemstones, and the corner of his mouth had a tightness that spoke to Amanda.

She grimaced, following his gaze, then stared back at him. Rick flicked his gaze to hers, then back at the pair. “They used to date—” he remarked. “When Beatrice was in college.”

Amanda grimaced even further. “And—?”

Rick shrugged. “I thought perhaps it was him who broke her statues.”

Her expression shifting further toward icy, Amanda glared at him. “You sound…worried, Rick.”

He turned his gaze again on her. “There’s something about that man that disturbs me,” he said openly. Amanda couldn’t decide what to feel about that, even though she had the same feeling regarding the man. “Beatrice said she broke up with him because he was drinking too much. Losing control.”

Her ire found her again, her anger snapping. “Why are you so interested in Beatrice’s love life?”

His jaw squared as Rick took another sip. “Amanda, I’ve been trying to ignore your insinuations, but don’t you think they’re becoming a bit too much?”

She sneered with a glare. “Are they?”

Yes—” he replied sternly, fixing her a glare, too. “I’m not worried for her. I’m worried about him.”

Amanda almost told him about the redness she’d seen over the corner of his wife’s mouth, but she stayed silent. She knew she should, but the way he looked at them… Her expression soured again as jealousy knotted her stomach. She tried to tell herself there was nothing to be jealous of. And, they were still cops.

“I saw something at the corner of Jessie’s mouth,” she said briskly. “I couldn’t be sure if it’s—” She waved a finger toward her own mouth, “—a love bite or something else, but—” She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know.”

Rick’s eyes narrowed further as he glared at the man over the rim of his glass. Amanda caught someone entering the bathroom in the far corner beside the closet under the staircase.

“I’m going up—” she tilted her head at the occupied bathroom and headed up the stairs hurriedly.

Amanda needed a damn distraction. She crossed the hall. Upstairs, it was deserted, as she saw the last of the crowd sitting on the last steps. She walked towards the bathroom. Rick had already seen the place and gave her a clear lead. Luckily, the bathroom was also near the study. There were more rooms on this level than their own house, so they had a bathroom for each wing. Amanda chose to slip towards the left side, in the direction of the study.

Tapping on the door, she heard someone making a noise inside. She darted a glance at the corridor, and spying it clear, she quickly reached for her hair and took the pin she used to pull her hair up in a bun. Consequently, it made her hair fall over her shoulders. Tucking a loose end behind her ear, Amanda started working on the lock, still throwing covert glances back and right before she heard the familiar click from the mechanism.

Cracking the door ajar, she slipped inside and closed it silently behind her. The stores were still half open so she couldn’t risk any light. She headed to the study desk in the moonlit room and knelt beside the right drawer Rick had also briefed her about.

The top drawer. Working the pin again, she picked the lock. It was a simpler one, even easier than the one on the door. She pulled the drawer open and saw the thick dossier. She took it out quickly, and rising up, she tossed it on the desk. Leaning over, she started rummaging through the files.

Her hands shifted through many pages and paper folders until she came to the stacks at the end. Their files. She first saw Rick’s. A low sneer escaped from her. She bet it was the last one Deanna had read as well.

It was a small file, had a paper and photo, and above all, a FP in a thick red marker was written. Her mouth tightened, realizing what it stood for. First priority. Next to it, there was a W, too.

Turning her eyes away from the initials, she took the photo and realized it was a snapshot from the filmed interview as Rick was sitting in that armchair. He was leaning down away from  the back of the seat, his hands linked in the air as his elbows were propped on his knees. With his tilted head upwards, he was giving Deanna a look, his jaw squared under his bushy beard. Even from the photo, the chosen moment was clear.

So Amanda wasn’t surprised to see the psychologist’s notes, scribbled and handwritten quickly: Skeptical and untrusting; trust issues bordering paranoia. Aggressive body language. Confrontational, but protective, family oriented. Pack leader. Former law enforcement. Sheriff’s deputy. Caution: Escalation.

Escalation.

She eyed the word for a few seconds before moving her eyes downward. There were other snippets, personal details, about him like she’d answered about herself, and about Carl and Judith as well. The first section was about Carl, again personal tidbits like birth details and blood type, but Amanda saw Judith’s slots were empty.

It made her feel bad, not knowing her actual birthday. Even Amanda knew her birthday. She wondered briefly if she could get Rick or the others to do the math using the calendar here. And perhaps the doctor would manage a blood type test to figure out her blood type. It was necessary. There was a question mark on it and a little red mark that told Amanda that Deanna thought the same, too. Leaving the file, Amanda turned to the others.

She hassled through them as quick as possible, shifting through the red markers to see how they were categorized. Joan had FP, as well, and Bob’s mark had a question marked attached towards it. Under his name, Amanda saw ‘anxiety problems, shaking hands. Addiction issues?’ She wondered if they’d discovered his alcoholism. Possibly they had. Deanna was too cunning to miss something like that.

Next to their initials, Joan also had a C, whereas Bob had a W like Rick, again with a question mark. She wondered what W stood for, as the C.

Daryl had a SP with a W. Amanda slowly figured out that they had two tiers, and W possibly was for people that would go outside, like…warriors and C for civilians? Beth was NC. much like Carl, that Amanda made another educational guess as not classified. There was no priority rank.

Taking another folder, Amanda saw her own photo inside.

Looking back at herself, she almost winced, her mouth tightening. She really looked like shit, her hair caked with dirt, hay, and dung, her clothes sprayed with mud and blood. Like Daryl, she was classified under SP-W amalgam, and it was no surprise. Her details were short. Hers had trust issues sketched out, too, like most of them, with the addition elusive and avoidant.

Amanda frowned reading the words, her brows knitting and her lips clenching. It took a half of an hour interviewing to figure out most of her issues. Denise wasn’t a bad shrink, it seemed.

There was also ‘smart’ beside the other adjectives, then below them, in a caution section, Amanda saw another short script, scratched in red with an asterisk and all.

In affiliation with RG*. Not specified.

Her tightened mouth turned to a full grimace as she gazed at the words. Affiliations with an asterisk, caution advised, because she was fucking Rick Grimes. Her stomach twisted further as she remembered there was no citation in Rick’s file.

Amanda wasn’t as valuable as Rick to these people, which wasn’t a newsflash. She was useful to keep around, but always expendable. But they were wary, cautious because of her affiliations with Rick. It wasn’t her problem, so long as Deanna didn’t try to use her as a bait to test Rick like she’d already tried. But there was still anger smoldering inside her at the way the old woman had been keeping tabs on them, categorizing them, dissecting them, their personalities, their relationships, things she didn’t have any inkling about herself.

She slapped the dossier closed and tossed it back into the drawer.

Deanna didn’t know a thing how Rick had held her hand to draw her to his side before they stepped into the Death Wing, or how he’d brought her back when she was on the edge of death, or how he’d ripped out a man’s throat to protect them.

The old politician didn’t know how they laughed together, being silly inside the Death Wing,  didn’t know how they slept in each other’s arms. She didn’t know how he kept Amanda in his arms when she was nothing but a pitiful whimpering heap of sobs and cries, how he stroked her hair, how he rubbed her strained muscles gently. Deanna knew nothing of these. Those weren’t unspecified affiliations. Not for her. Not for Rick.

Her anger pushing back at the edge of her mind, she relocked the drawer and cracked the door open to poke her head out to check the hall. It was clear, so she left the room as silently as she slipped in, clicking the mechanism behind her back to lock the door.

The downstairs was the same, people still spilling out onto the porch. She paced toward the living room to find Rick to learn if Carol and Joan left yet. She walked inside, and started searching, her eyes sweeping the room quickly before she found she was looking for.

There Rick was in the left corner, still holding his tumbler in his hand in the air, gazing at Beatrice over the rim of the glass as the younger woman laughed. A faint small smile twitched Rick’s lips, too, as he took a slow sip—

Amanda felt like someone punched her in the stomach. He must have felt the glare she was sending them as she stood unmoving, because a second later, he twisted aside and caught her staring at them on the other side of the room.

Spinning on her heels, she started walking out.

She saw someone just outside of the door as she almost tripped over him. The man took a step back, raising his hand up in the air, holding his drink. “Sorry—”

“No. My fault—” Amanda muttered as her eyes flicked aside. Rick was coming toward her. She slipped by the man swiftly and walked out into the corridor. Turning to the left, she started heading to the door. She took her leather jacket from the hall stand, reaching the crowd in front of the door and starting to put it on, leaving the house.

“Amanda—” Rick’s voice reached her as she reached the porch’s steps, jumping over people to descend, but she didn’t stop. She just didn’t want to see him right now or want to deal with their…affiliations.

Amanda just wanted to go now. She’d done her job, seen the dossier, seen how the fuck she was categorized. She had no business left there. Rick could stay and flirt with whoever he would want to, for all she cared.

She reached the driveway, pushing her left arm inside the jacket. The chill made her shiver for a second after the warmness of the interior. She started strutting off over the pebbles, crunching them under her chunky heels.

“Hey—” Rick caught her a second later and made her stop, holding her elbow before she hit the main road of the town. “Where are you going?” he asked, turning her towards him. “Joan and Carol haven’t come yet.”

Pulling off her arm away from him, she grimaced. “I’m returning to the house. You have it under control.” She turned again. “You don’t need me babysitting you.” She slanted a side glare at him. “Besides, you already have company.”

Reaching out to her, he stopped her again. “Seriously, Amanda, what is this?” he demanded as she stared at him. “I was just talking to her—”

“Yeah, getting to know her better, right?” she tsked, shaking her head. “Go ahead. Go make her acquaintance. Perhaps you might even get lucky tonight,” she sneered, taking a step in on him. “Who knows?”

Catching her by her shoulders, Rick moved them away towards the secluded parts of the garden from the crowd.

“I might as well go and find Aiden. Take him up on his offer for that drink—” she taunted further, drawling out the words slowly as if she was considering it while she let him maneuver her towards the garage at the end of the driveway. “Make new friends.”

Rick stopped under the half-ranch style garage’s roof. The night was fairly quiet as the sounds of the party faintly reached to them. They might throw a party, but even Alexandrians weren’t such fools as to make loud noises. “Do you want to?” Rick challenged, gazing at her eyes.

Amanda looked up at him. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” Rick stated, still staring at her openly, his voice as curt as his eyes. “I want you to tell me what happened.”

She broke away from his grip. “Nothing.”

He caught her again before she slipped away. “Amanda—”

“I said nothing—” she snapped. “Leave me alone.”

His eyes flared up with anger as his jaw squared. “Amanda, are we really returning to leave-me-alones, too?” he rasped out.

The implications of his question wouldn’t have been any clearer, and she felt dizzy again, the turmoil of her emotions flooding her, and the scribbled words blinking in her mind. In affiliation with RG*. Not specified.

There was nothing special with her to specify. Just a regular SP-W, whatever the hell that meant.

“Amanda—” Rick called out to her this time a bit smoother, leaning in toward her as he tipped his head to catch her gaze. “Amanda, what’s happened?”

She flicked her eyes over to him. Underneath his annoyance, anger, and sternness, the concern was still there, worry for her—something twisted in her stomach.

Amanda was fucking hating it!

She spun around, grabbed his head with her hands and hauled him towards her before she claimed his lips.

Her assault caught him unguarded. He lost his ground, his feet sliding backwards. She was holding his head tightly as she kissed him hungrily, driving her teeth into his bottom lip.

It took him a second to respond after that. Linking his arms around her waist, he slightly lifted her above the ground and carried her towards the garage. They were still kissing when her back hit the garage’s small side door with a heavy thud.

The metallic clank echoed in her ears as Rick, drawing back to look at her, dropped her on the garage’s small patio. His gaze on her was heavy, but still firm.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Amanda—” he warned in a deep, throaty rasp.

“I don’t get into fights I know I can’t win, Rick,” she reminded him coolly.

Cocking his head aside an inch, Rick arched an eyebrow.

In answer, Amanda shot up a hand and reached for her cleavage. She slipped her fingers through the thick straps of her dress and moved them under her bra. Pulling them out a second later as Rick still stared at her, his gaze turning speculative, Amanda showed him her fingers that were holding the tiny, shiny blue package.

Without a word, his eyes got heated, glowing like sapphire with an edge, and Rick caught her and pulled her away from the door. Amanda thought for a second she was going to get kissed with a searing kiss, but instead he twirled her around, leaning her against his chest while with his other hand, he tried to open the garage’s door.

The locked door didn’t budge, which made Rick let out a sharp growl in annoyance as Amanda rummaged through her loose hair to find the hair pin she’d fixed back inside her locks. While she handed him the condom, Rick realized her intentions. As she bent down to the lock, Rick’s hands started roaming over her body, his body leaning down with her.

He nestled her hips against his groin, then his hands slipped under the hem of her dress and found her bare thighs. “Thigh highs—" he breathed out sharply, stroking her mentioned body parts with his fingertips. “God, baby, you’re killing me.”

She shivered at his touch and wriggled her hips as she tried to pick the lock while Rick ran his fingers upwards. Closing her eyes against the sensation, shivering again, Amanda shook her head. “Shss, I’m working here.”

“Be quick.” His words whispered to her ear as he hovered closer down over her back, accompanied with a little nibble of her earlobe as if to demonstrate the need for speed.

As if it was needed. Amanda was gone. She just wanted to fuck him now. Be done with it. Fuck him good and nice.

The faint sounds of the crowd outside on the porch grew a bit louder, and Amanda realized she really fucking needed to hurry as Rick’s fingers became more insistent. She twitched, her core throbbing as his fingers found their prize.

Amanda tried to calm herself down before she heard the familiar click. The next Rick was hurtling them inside. As soon as she put a foot inside, she was twirled again, and her back hit the garage door inside. She wrapped her legs around his waist tightly as he hoisted her up against it, her short dress climbing over her hips, leaving her thigh highs decorated with lace visible to his sight.

He closed his eyes for a second before exhaling deeply. “A—Amanda—” he forced out, opening them again, the blue of his eyes glinting in the gloomy dark really like sapphires. “If—if we start again, I—I might not—”

Clenching her legs tighter around his waist, Amanda unhooked her arms around his neck and slid her leather jacket off before tossing it off on the ground.

That was all the answer or urging Rick needed.

He pushed her back against the door at the same time his lips claimed hers wildly.

# # #

It was everything opposite of how Rick wanted their next time to be, but he didn’t fucking care. He’d dreamed of fucking her slow and sweet, discovering each other without haste, without any rush—

Well, Rick was in a rush now. He couldn’t take this anymore. He was done at the moment she brought the condom out from her bra, the notion making him forget everything else.

She had come prepared. This time, even when they were estranged from each other, she carried a condom on herself. She wanted him. He wanted her. So Rick was going to fuck her. Just like this, up against the door, he didn’t fucking care. He just wanted her now. Feel her heat, be inside her…

Only he couldn’t open the fucking condom while he was still holding her up as he tried to tear open the package. Giving up, he brought the shiny plastic thing’s edge to her mouth.

Understanding him, Amanda tipped her head down and tore it off with her teeth hurriedly.

His hardened cock throbbed achingly inside his jeans. Rick ground against her thong clad folds. He wanted it gone this time, wanted her completely bare for him, at least down there. He lowered her down, uncurling her legs around his waist. Bending towards her quickly as soon as her feet touched on the ground, he reached under her dress and looped his fingers at the edge of her underwear. He slid down the silky garment down over her stockings.

Staring at her silently, Rick stuffed the thong inside his pocket. Amanda watched as he did so, but didn’t make any comment. Instead, she started unbuckling him. Without his duty belt, it took her only a second before her hands slipped inside his unzipped jeans.

Hitting her back against the door, Rick kissed her hungrily again. He was hungry. Hungry for her. Deprived. Destitute.

Bracing her hands on his shoulders, Amanda hopped back up in his embrace, wrapping those slim legs around his waist tightly. Rick tilted his head up as she looked down when he adjusted their bodies as his jeans loosened around his lower hip, his cock free to find his prize.

Hissing, Rick yanked aside the thick straps over her cleavage to find her breasts as Amanda’s hands reached down to his head to hold him there, the little package still in her hands. She was grinding over him as Rick pushed against her even more, his mouth seeking her nipples, driving between each breast madly.

He tilted his gaze up again. He wanted to see her, watch her as she ground against him, picking up her own pace. Rick let her enjoy herself, but they still needed to put the damn condom on.

And he really wanted to watch her now. His eyes quickly wandered around. Monroe’s garage was a full one. Rick saw the workbench against the wall, a closet next to it. A smaller size pool table was across them, and beside it, their car was parked. It was a shiny black Chrysler 300 LX, possibly Deanna’s own car with which she’d driven here. Stepping back, Rick tightened his grip on Amanda and started heading to the car.

Realizing his intention, Amanda’s lust hazed eyes tilted up to his from his neck where she was sucking a spot over his collarbone.

His shirt was already half unbuttoned, shifted away along his shoulders, and Rick didn’t have any idea when that had happened. Her heels dug under his buttocks while Rick carried her over to the car, their lips still glued on each other.

They were making out like horny teenagers, and Rick didn’t fucking care, either. Closing in on the backseat, he tried the door, but curse his damn luck, it was locked, too.

He thought of it for a split second, leaning her against the car, his gaze darting aside towards the car’s front, but he quickly moved them away from the hood, spotting the pool table with wooden legs again. Rick carried her towards it in a second, his blood boiling further as the image suddenly played in his mind, and almost threw her down on the table.

Amanda quickly slid over the green cloth surface, bending her legs, placing the heels of her boots under the wooden edge. Her dress’s tight skirt rose over her lower stomach as she spread her slender legs to accommodate Rick between them.

Supporting herself on her elbows, Amanda looked up at him.

The sight of her—God. The sight of her, all sprawled out for him over a pool table just like that. It almost undid him. His cock throbbed painfully as Rick grabbed her knees while he gazed down at her, her smooth folds glistening wet with her juices. She was already soaking wet. Rick could even smell her arousal.

His hands slipping under her knees, he tightened his grip and pulled her closer to him. Startled with his sudden move, she almost yelped as she skidded before she looped her feet loosely around the back of his knees to stop herself.

Amanda straightened again slightly when Rick eased his jeans down further around his knees with his boxer briefs. Looking damn interested, she watched him as Rick placed the condom over the tip of his cock, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. He tilted his eyes up, head still bowed, as he rolled it along his length. She straightened further and curled her fingers around his cock as Rick slid both of their hands over his length, almost hissing with the contact.

Rick leaned towards her as Amanda craned her neck up, and they started kissing again. Her grip tightened as she gave him a tight pull, just the way he liked it, holding the base firmly. Rick groaned into her mouth. Her lips moving across the side of his face, Amanda started nibbling the tip of his earlobe.

His blood drumming in his ears, Rick pushed them down onto the green cloth, then responding to a sudden urge, he reached out and flipped her on her stomach.

Startled and dazzled, she let out another yelp-gasp, as she slid down to the floor, bending down over the table in front of his legs. With her additional height with heels, they were aligned just perfectly as she arched, her round, firm ass stuck up in the air. Her thighs decorated with lace top parts of the stockings became even sexier that way. Rick fondled her ass, rubbing his palm against her smooth skin and trailing down over the stockings as Amanda completely lay down on the table before twisting her neck aside to watch him.

Rick stared down at her, pinching her ass. Her expression twitching, she made a low noise. He smirked and grabbed her hips, tugging them outward against his groin and started sliding himself over her folds from behind. She shivered, only the condom between them now, and Rick almost took it off. The urge rose strong in him, like in the woods. He wanted to have her bareback like their first time, so he could feel her heat, her burning heat, clenching him inside her depths while there was nothing between them, not even that thin latex sheath.

Yet, he couldn’t dare.

Later. When they settled down, they were going to try that again. Condoms. They didn’t have an endless stash. She had only a half of a package. If Rick would have his way with her, that half package couldn’t even last a few days.

Rick leaned toward her, balancing his weight, propping his palms on either side of her head on the table. He kissed her neckline where the straps left it open, lingering over her as he slowly stroked himself over her wet folds, making sure he was rubbing upwards over the angular intersection of her inner lips that hid her gem underneath, but still not pushing inside. Her breath hitched.

“Ya okay like this?” Rick rasped out for confirmation.

Twisting her neck aside again, Amanda threw at him a look. “If you don’t fuck me now, I won’t be—” she breathed out.

Rick leaned even closer, tilting his hips to tease her entrance. “Missed it?”

She hitched deeper on a breath. “Rick—”

“Missed me?” Rick asked this time, whispering to her ear, inching further inside her.

She inhaled a gasp, then a moan followed. “Rick—”

Rick dropped his hands. “Show me, Amanda. Show me how much you missed me.”

Her eyes found his up again as she looked over her shoulder, before angling herself to align with him, she started pushing herself backward, his cock splitting her folds.

Grabbing her hips again to steady himself, Rick hissed sharply as he straightened up to give her a better angle. His hands slipped up towards her waist and held her as her ass stayed tilted against his pelvis, taking him in completely.

Rick started feeling like a furnace, burning from the inside out. He’d been waiting for this moment for so long, so long he’d been waiting to be inside her wet, slippery folds again. He tossed his head backward, closing his eyes with the sensation, another sharp hiss escaping from him. Then she started wriggling her hips.

His stomach coiling, Rick groaned even louder as she clenched. She placed her palms flat on the green surface, braced on her forearms, before she started picking up a rhythm.

Rick hunched over her back, bending down. He freed his hands off her to let her move how she damn liked, moving them up to rest over her hands and laced their fingers together.

He dipped his head over the crook of her shoulder and whispered to her, “C’mon, baby, fuck me.”

Amanda chuckled, the amusement mixing with a moan as she hit back against him. “Yeah, fuck you—” She twisted backwards and her lips found his for an open mouthed kiss. “Glad to come find me leaving her?”

“Leaving who?” he replied with a smirk, rolling his hips at the same time to make her squirm. She tipped her neck a little. Rick sucked junction of her neck and shoulder, his hips giving a little thrust to meet with hers. “Glad not to take that drink?”

“Not yet—” she moaned thickly. “You need to work…harder.”

With that, she slammed back against him, and all thoughts left Rick.

He freed his hands from hers and hauled up her ass in the air further, grabbing her over her stomach. Before she could make another word, Rick started thrusting her at the new angle.

His rhythm was fast and deep, propping her shoulder on the table with one hand as the other arm still stayed against her stomach to steady her while the force of his thrusts swung her back and forth, faster and harder like she demanded. Like Rick wanted.

God, them like this again… Having her like this. It was still everything opposite of sweet, slow, gentle, but Rick still didn’t fucking care. Not when he had her like this again. Not when his blood felt like molten lava in his veins.

He flipped her on her back again, looping his arm under her right knee to tug it up, pushing it aside at the same time to spread her legs apart. The position was lewd, all of her open for him as he propelled himself back into her depths further with a loud growl.

Amanda almost screamed as he hit the deepest parts of her. Rick held her leg and slid it up over his shoulder before leaning down over her, he covered her mouth just like he’d done in the woods before.

“Hush now—” Rick rasped as she folded under him, her left leg still propped against his shoulder. Her knee almost touched her chest when Rick moved down, the other spread over the table, taking him in even further in her depths. He kept the position that way, liking the deepest angle. It completely turned her savage. She was thrashing beneath him with each stroke, her eyes rolled up as she twisted her head aside.

She was so beautiful, so fucking beautiful…

“Amanda—” Rick rasped out, watching her as her eyes drew to him when he called out her name. Their eyes locked, Rick leaned on her further to replace his hand with his lips again, forcing the tip of her bootie to point back over her head as he did.

God, he knew she was flexible, but how she adjusted herself into the position still turned his head. It was mad, it was crazy, but Rick still wanted to see how far she could go with it. It felt like they were treading on a sharp edge, and Rick wanted to see…wanted to test their limits.

Rick straightened up, taking her right leg and swung it across his shoulder in the same way. Both of her legs were braced up on his shoulders now, spread wide in the air as Rick hit the deepest parts of her, sheathing himself to the hilt. Lori never let him take her in this way—always used to say it hurt…Amanda just twisted her head to silence her loud groans against her shoulder, tucking her head down, raising her arm, her hair getting in her mouth as she gnawed on her own skin.

Rick started removing her boots. They were nice, but he was burning with this desire to see her feet bare, to hold her ankles tightly, to kiss her hidden tattoo softly.

He dropped the boots to the garage floor, and reaching down to her thighs, he started rolling off her thigh highs. Her eyes found his when Rick thrusted inside her with another deep stroke, her hands clawing at the edge as she tried to hold herself atop the pool table.

Rick held her ankles, then staring at her, he dragged her further down to the edge of the table before he started fucking her just like that, on the edge.

# # #

She was going to come violently; Amanda realized it as soon as Rick started kissing her right inner ankle over her tattoo. Her hands were clawing at his ass now to keep herself stable instead of gripping the wooden edge, all the while she also tried to keep her mind…intact.

Her other foot was still placed on his shoulder, his fingers rubbing on her clit as he pounded into her madly. She must be making very loud noises, too, but his other hand had covered her mouth again to muffle her groans. Even her eyes half closed, Amanda knew Rick was still watching her with that look, watching her as he fucked like this, like the wild savage beast he was.

She couldn’t find it in her to mind…

Amanda just wanted it, wanted him to go deeper in her, as deep as possible. Sex, just raw sex, wanton desire, lustful frenzy. The shame would perhaps find her later, the lewd way she acted like she was in a feral heat, just like in the shower grinding herself all over his face out of her mind, but not right now.

Right now, he was rocking her world back and forth with each deep stroke, splitting her folds in harmony with his thumb on her clit. The only sounds she heard were the rhythmic slaps that his balls made as they hit her ass. They were continuous and loud, mixed with their muffled groans like a metronome. After each slap, their groans followed.

A part of her was almost worried if anyone outside the party would hear them, but instead she just closed her eyes and yielded to the other part, the part that didn’t care about it at all.

God, she was going to come so hard—so fucking hard. She was feeling it building in her like a volcano. Why the fuck had she been running away from it?

Running away from him?

Rick tugged her foot over his shoulder again and leaned down against her. Her knees touched on her breasts as a louder moan rumbled out of her while Rick drove himself further into her with the shift of the angle as Amanda forced herself into the position.

His hand moved away from her mouth to the side of her neck. “Glad not to take that drink now?” he asked in a rough whisper, his eyes as sharp as frosted glass watching her closely…very closely, as he hovered above her, his chest framed with her legs, her feet still resting over his shoulders.

Amanda tried not to think of that, tried not to think how she might be looking under him like this, and tossed her head backward instead. “Yeah—” she forced out with a throaty breath.

Her body rocked with another deep stroke, his eyes still on her, she could feel... “The only-the only woman I want to know better is you—” she heard his rasping whisper in her ear.

Amanda let out another load moan, clenching him tightly as she gazed at the ceiling. “Y-you’re getting to know me very deeply…”

There was no more talking after her comeback, no more quips. Rick just hastened his pace in answer. Amanda gnawed on his shoulder this time to keep herself as silent as possible. Arching under him, she closed her eyes before she let herself go, clawing at his back. She didn’t care.

She would care later.

# # #

After the powerful waves of her orgasm settled down, Amanda started regaining her senses. Her feet were still over his shoulders. Trembling limply under him, they slowly slid downwards as Rick was no better condition than her.

He sat down on the cement floor, half propped a shoulder against wooden leg of the table, Amanda on his lap. When she stirred, her muscles strained even worse with the exertion they’d just overdone, still twitching with the aftereffects of the orgasm.

She slid herself out of his lap to sit on the ground as Rick slumped back further against the table’s leg, breathing roughly next to her. He was still half spooning her behind, both motionless. They were silent, trying to come back, as their boust rendered them speechless, spent.

Snapshots leaped in her dazzled mind. Amanda closed her eyes, bowing her head a little, trying to chase them away.

It was just sex, she told herself. Just sex. Nothing to be bothered about, nothing to feel shame about. It wasn’t the first time she had had rough quickies—she stopped the thought, opening her eyes. Her gaze caught the skirt of her dress, still tangled over her hips, leaving half of her sex still exposed. Suddenly Amanda felt…vulnerable again, even worse than the shower.

She fidgeted and quickly pulled the dress down over her hips to cover herself. In the silence, she started hearing sounds from outside, too. People must be leaving, or the party was finally moving out in the gardens, as well. They were nearer, louder… She wondered if anyone really had heard them. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t keep quiet.

Amanda twisted her head toward the door. “W-we should go—” she said throatily, reaching for one of her stockings beside his leg on the other side. A heat was coming out of her, and it wasn’t because of her orgasm. Gathering her slim thigh highs, she turned away from him completely and started putting them on. Her thong—her thong was still in his pocket!

Never mind. Let him have it. She preferred walking naked to the house now instead of asking for it back from him. Finishing with the thigh highs, she got to her feet, trying not to wince. It hurt—it fucking hurt. Sore muscles were expected even with her flexibility, but the ache in her inner thighs was something else entirely.

Amanda darted a look over to him as he started pulling up his jeans, almost fidgeting again. His look was clearly stating what made her have this ache between her legs—a rough hard quickie.

His hair was tousled, the unkempt dark curls falling over his temples, and his face flushed even under his stubble. Underneath his unbuttoned shirt, Amanda could see a fierce, wide bruise already forming up along his collarbone where she’d gnawed at him to keep herself silent. Rick even winced shifting his shirt back in place, so it must be hurting like hell.

Amanda felt the embarrassed heat hitting her again in a gigantic wave. The bruise was so wide, so fierce, there was no chance in hell anyone would miss it unless Rick buttoned himself up tightly to cover his neck or wore a turtleneck. Both of which Rick never did.

Briefly, she wondered what exactly she looked like, but she didn’t even want to think about it now. God, she almost started feeling like the time Carl had caught them in the woods, and in her book, that was saying a lot.

Buckling up his belt, Rick gave her a look under his dipped head, still managing to look inquisitive even in his current state as if he sensed her anxiety. Turning aside, Amanda started walking to her jacket slowly, trying not wince again with each step.

“Are you hurt?” She heard his rasping voice behind as his footsteps. He stopped beside her, his eyes searching over her. “D-did I hurt you?” He looked even panicked.

Amanda shook her head quickly. “No. Just sore.” She swallowed and tilted her head towards the door. The commotion from outside was louder now as they stood closer to the door. “Uh—” she breathed out. “You go out first. I’ll wait for a bit.”

Rick’s mouth tightened as his eyes grew stern, giving her another look. “Why?” he asked so simply. Amanda almost started to scream or cry, she wasn’t sure. She just wanted to go back to the house, to her own room, get a shower, clean herself up, and slip into bed—and—and stop the twirl of her feelings and musings!

She didn’t want to do this, dammit! Anger hit her as powerful as her other feelings, and she clung to it. She didn’t want to feel like this!

“There are people outside,” she bristled, jerking her head towards the door again.

“And?”

She stared at him. “And, Rick, I don’t want to parade beside you in front of all those people looking like this!”

His glare flared, looking back at her, as his jaw squared. “Looking like what?”

She fixed back at him a silent glare, too. “Don’t act clueless, Rick—” she snapped. “It doesn’t suit you.”

His face soured even further after her dry remark. “Fine—” he clipped. “If you want it to be like this—” He started walking to the door. “Let’s act like we’re just fuckbuddies.”

There was hurt in his voice again, she heard it clearly, and it just fueled her anger more. Acting like this? It was she who had an asterisk beside her name, in affiliation with RG. There were no remarks in his file, none of it!

“Excuse me?!” she exclaimed, leaping forward and catching his elbow. She turned him to her harshly. “It was me who said we’re together to Deanna, not you!”

He scoffed. “And you only did it because you didn’t want to be partnered with me,” he shot back. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

“At least I did,” she admitted curtly. “Your file—” she went on, pushing on further. “In your file, there were many notes, Rick, but nothing about me, whereas mine has you.”

He jerked his head in a terse nod and grasped her hand. “Let’s clarify it then—” He started dragging her to the door.

Amanda yanked off her hand free, stepping back from him. “No! I said I’m going alone!” she bit off. “I already look enough I had my brains fucked without you swaggering by my side!”

He flinched as if she’d really slapped him. “This is really what you think? Think of me?” he asked, as she stared at him. He shook his head. “That I want to show you off around for kicks?”

She just stared at him mutely.

“I’m going—” he bit off tersely, opening the door. “Come whenever you damn well like.”

Something twisted in her stomach so tightly, winding her down. “Rick—” she started, but she couldn’t continue, once more not knowing what to say as Rick halted.

Saying she didn’t mean it seemed…she didn’t know. Rick wasn’t like this, she knew, but she just didn’t want to walk with him. She stared at him wildly again.

Rick shook his head wordlessly.

Amanda really wanted to cry now. The clamor came even louder as the door cracked up, and Amanda heard familiar sounds—one above all. All the unrest in her silenced suddenly.

A familiar voice started screaming. Her head whipped toward Rick, who was listening to it, his attention shifted outside swiftly. “It’s—it’s—” Amanda muttered.

“It’s Carl and Beth!” he barked out, interrupting her as he yanked the door open fully, already springing out.

Without another thought, Amanda followed.

# # #

It’d been almost a week since Rick heard screams. When Beth’s shrill voice rang in the air accompanying Carl’s shouts, Rick remembered the barn, remembered his promise.

Never he’d promised himself, yet his family, his son—Beth—they were screaming. He sprinted, leaving the garage, his eyes already surveying the area for walkers. Her avoidant anxiety forgotten, Amanda was trailing after him, not looking like she cared how she looked now.

Their moment typically was followed by a fight, but Rick couldn’t focus on it right now. It’d started again…less than a week, and it started again. Once more, he was running like mad in the middle of night, hearing screams in the dark…but something was off. Rick noticed it a second later. Including them, no one seemed to be running away from the screams.

The first rule of survival was quite simple. When screams were heard, you ran away… Yet as they got close to the house, in front of the porch, Rick saw a small gathering, a circle where the screams were coming from…two thrilling screams…younger tones. Fighting.

The next second, Rick understood what was happening. Amanda seemed to realize it, too, as Rick halted in his steps momentarily, she picked up her pace, passing him by.

“Beth!” she yelled, pushing aside the people in the circle, forcing her way through. “Beth!”

Through the gap that Amanda made for herself, Rick saw the center of the circle, and he gaped...

At the flower beds in front yards, among the colorful flowers, bushes, and garden furniture, Beth and Clarice were rolling over the grass, their hands tangled in each other’s hair, kicking and biting each other…

A catfight.

The girls were having a catfight in the middle of the front yard, pulling hair and all, while people were watching, except Carl, his katana blade slung over his shoulder, was trying to split them up.

“ELIZABETH GREENE!” Amanda’s hollered voice cut over all the shrieking they were doing as Rick, regaining his motor functions, ran over to them. “What the HELL are you doing?

Bending down to grab Beth, Amanda’s short dress was rolled up over her hips from running and almost left her buttocks bare. An urge to yank the dress down to cover her hit him strongly as Rick remembered her tiny thong was still in his pocket. She really looked like she had her brains fucked out.

Rick dismantled the idea in his mind, catching the younger Reese instead as Amanda pushed Beth away.

“You’re a nutcase!” Clarice yelled in Rick’s arms as he took the teenage girl in a tight grip, as at the same time Amanda restrained Beth.

“And you’re a fucking bitch!”

 “BETH!” Amanda shouted, towing the angry teenager to her chest, her arm tightened around Beth’s waist.

“I HATE YOU!” Beth yelled, fighting to free herself from Amanda’s grip.

Beatrice was on the last step of the porch, staring at the scene with her hands over her mouth, her widened green eyes teary. Rick cocked his head at her. “Beatrice—” Rick barked out as Amanda turned to the crowd.

“The show is over—” she yelled at them. “All of you! Go!”

“What’s happening here?” Deanna’s voice came the next second, as she appeared on the porch, accompanied by her husband. Beside them, Rick also spotted Aiden Monroe and Daryl.

“I got it—” Amanda responded, raising her voice again, tugging at Beth to lead her away. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Beth sent the other teenager a last seething glare before going with Amanda as Rick released the other girl.

For a few seconds, they were all silent, Rick watching them leave, the others watching him, their eyes slowly taking the sight of him.

Suddenly, Rick felt Amanda’s absence as they stared at him. Without a word, he jerked his head at Carl, then spun on his heel and headed back to their house.

Notes:

This is not finished yet, there's still the second part in which we see what Joan and Carol were up too, and what exactly happened with teenagers that Beth and Clarice started fighting like that, uh.

I know, most of you still might want to shake Amanda senseless, really. Be my guest. I'm afraid she won't get any wiser in any near future, either. Poor Rick. But, he's gonna get lucky now at least, lots, lots of lucky. All around Alexandria, in every position, repeatedly. He he.

Chapter 14: 'I don’t fucking care'

Summary:

Before the party has interrupted with the teenage drama, Joan shares a talk with Carol about one certain hunter and tracker. Following the party, Amanda tries to deal with Beth as Rick has another talk with the town's leader, which brings him to accept another realization.

Notes:

I know I said I'm gonna try to update weekly, but, well, I'm afraid the lack of response for the last chapters made me feel a bit unmotivated with posting, hence the delay. Sorry. I'll still try to keep up with updates, but they might be more sporadic.
Nevertheless, enjoy :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Nudging the slightly open window facing the backyard the rest of the way open, Joan jumped inside the community’s armory warehouse.

“Be quick and careful—” Daryl whispered to them as Carol pushed herself up over the windowsill like Joan had just done, stepping on his linked hands.

“I’ll stand over there at the gazebo—” he continued, pointing to his left, where a few wooden sitting units and gazebos that had a glimpse of the lake’s panorama stayed hidden from the community’s center. “I’ll whistle like a mockingbird if I spy anyone.”

Helping Carol to come down beside her, Joan nodded. Mockingbird. Joan had no idea what a mockingbird was supposed to sound like, but she guessed she would know if she heard it. The town was silent, despite Joan could hear a faint clamor of the dinner party ongoing over at Deanna’s house a few yards away if she strained her ears.

They both turned to the dim room, lit only by the waning moon through the windows as Daryl started striding towards one of the gazebos. Carol fished out the ring of keys they’d snitched today from Olivia’s stash and began working on the vaults.

Acquiring the keys had been easier than Joan had expected. Too easy, really. Carol was a good actress with kind smiles and harmless looks. Her fingers had loosened the keys off the peg under the counter with ease as she kept chattering with the dark-haired woman. The moments like these made Joan recall what Carol had done, for what had made Rick exile the woman before Joan and Noah had found their way to the prison with Amanda.

Amanda was still as wary of the older woman as Joan was, keeping a carefully well-ordained distance, but Daryl trusted the woman. Funny it was enough. Her doubts regarding their relationship since Carol had come to her to make small talk in the church reappeared as Joan crossed the hall and walked towards the front side. Her job was more of being the lookout at the front side of the house as Daryl took the backyard outside.

 The interiors were packed with metal shelves and pantry supplies, giving the air in the room a distinctive smell. There was even a cold storage unit on the left side, across from the room that stood as an armory, where they kept the meat. The shelves were still as well-stocked as the last time Joan had been here. Joan neared the warehouse’s front window in the shadows.

Peeking out of the window, Joan recognized the man outside as Jeffrey, the guard Daryl had almost punched at the main gate when they didn’t let her go out.

The man’s hands were tucked inside his front pockets, his shoulders hunched against the chill of the night. His expression was stiff. Joan surmised he didn’t like being out on watch while everyone was at Deanna’s party. She slanted another look at the man, before heading back to the back. “The man is still outside—” she remarked quietly at the threshold of the room. “We’re good.”

Carol nodded, opening one of the crates with a key. “We need to decide what we can take,” she commented. “We need to stay under the radar, and Rick wants ammo more than guns.”

Joan frowned just a little. “I want a gun,” she stated. Rick might have a hidden cache out there, but Joan doubted the number of guns would be enough for her to have one.

“How about this one—” Carol pointed with her head at a tiny gun inside the wooden crate. “It’s a Walther P22, and anyone wanting a gun really won’t miss it.”

It was a small black gun which was about her palm’s size. Taking boxes of ammo, Carol glanced at her sideways. “You can hide it under your pants. There must be an ankle holster around here, but make sure the gun fits the holster before you take one.”

“Yeah—” Joan replied, turning to search around for one. She gave another look at the small size of the gun. “It’d be deadly for rotters, right?” she questioned.

“Walkers, yes, for the living—” the older woman answered. “You need to make sure it’s a point blank shot, preferably to somewhere vulnerable, like the eye.  Holds ten rounds in the magazine.  More than Rick’s Python, actually.” Carol passed her a box of ammo, turning it to show the label. “Make sure you use only this caliber. You can’t borrow from Rick’s revolver or the nine millimeters like Amanda usually carries.”

Joan found an ankle holster in one of the drawers and tested the gun’s fit before she started wrapping the holster around her leg above her boot. Carol was still gazing at the guns intensely. Joan ejected the magazine carefully and loaded the gun before tucking it in the holster and rolling down the hem of her pants to cover it. She passed the partial box of ammo back to Carol.

“Let’s be quick,” Joan urged, drawing up. “I don’t want Daryl biting off our heads because we dallied.”

Her eyes still on the guns, Carol gave a closed lipped, tight smile. “Yeah, the infamous Dixon temper—” she mouthed. “You should’ve seen him before.”

Joan darted a look over to the older woman. “You mean he was worse than he is now?” she asked lowly with a smirk in her voice. Somehow Joan found it hard to believe.

Carol let out a snicker in return. “Oh, a lot worse. More than you can imagine. Being with kids, with us, having responsibilities all wound him down,” she replied as she began stuffing ammo boxes into the shoulder bag she’d brought. “But he’s always been the same man deep down.” Stopping for a second, her eyes cut over to Joan again. “You’re not the first person he looked for.”

Joan stared at her silently, not understanding what the words meant. Did Carol mean that Daryl had been searching someone else in the woods at night, like he’d done for her and Noah?

“Or found—” Carol stated. Joan gave the woman another look, silently waiting for her to continue. It appeared that the older woman wanted to say something. So Joan waited.

Like she expected, Carol spoke a few seconds later. “The prison was under attack,” she explained, returning to her job to pick out ammo. “While I tried to hide from walkers, I got trapped in a utility closet by a dead walker. Stayed there almost a day. Passed out. Daryl found me.”

Still not quite understanding what this was about, Joan bobbed her head.

“It’s his thing—” Carol went on. “Looking for people. Sophia—” Her voice wavered for a second before her eyes found Joan’s again. “My daughter. Before we arrived at the Greene farm, she got lost in the woods. Daryl looked for her, never gave up, not even when the others did. He even went to the woods to look for her at night.”

Joan made a little hitch of breath, the point of the conversation slowly dawning on her. “But he didn’t find her,” Carol revealed, staring at the wall. “Not in time.”

“I’m sorry.” Joan mumbled. Somehow, she understood what Carol meant. It suited the man Joan had started to come to know, risking his own life to look for others, especially for a child. Looking for people, finding them. She wondered if it was because no one had looked for him when he was lost in his own childhood, hadn’t even realized he was missing.

“I’m glad he found you and Noah in the woods,” Carol said, her voice turning to that placidness again as she zipped up her bag before she lifted her head.

“Do you want to sleep with him?” Carol asked openly. Joan gaped at her. “I know what you told him—” Carol informed her further. “But I also saw the looks you’ve started giving him.”

Deciding to be as open as her, Joan raised her chin a bit. “Will it be okay for you if we did?” she asked with the same directness.

Carol jerked her head in dissention. “Our relationship is purely platonic. I’m not asking for myself. I’m asking on his behalf. Daryl’s a good man, but…romantic relationships aren’t his strongest suit.”

Joan shook her head in return. “I don’t think he’s interested,” she slowly remarked.

The older woman gave her a soft smile. “If you wait for him to act, you’d wait for a long, long while—” she commented. “In that regard, he’s even worse than Rick.”

Joan wasn’t sure how the talk had evolved to this, but she couldn’t help but ask, her brows pinching. “Are you saying…I should make a move?”

“I’m saying Daryl doesn’t fool around,” Carol stated firmly. “He isn’t like the other men you’ve known.”

Joan scowled, bristling out a low “I see.” Though, if she had to be honest, she didn’t. She still didn’t understand fully what the point of this conversation was, but she let it go. After all, she hadn’t made up her mind yet, and perhaps Carol was right. Perhaps it was best to leave Daryl Dixon to his own devices.

Carol turned to her again, shouldering her bag closer to her chest. “I’m leaving now. You take Daryl and come ten minutes later. We shouldn’t return together at the same time.”

Joan half nodded in the same brisk way without a word. Carol climbed out the window they’d come through. Joan waited a while and looked outside. Daryl was coming toward the warehouse now.

“Let’s go—” he roughed out, waving a hand at her. “Carol is already back at the house.”

Joan jerked her hand, holding the window’s frame to jump down, tugging it back as she did it. Sitting astride, Joan looked at Daryl as he lifted his arms up. For a second, Joan thought to decline, because she could jump down herself. Carol had already done it herself, but as he gave her a look, she just let herself and fell into his arms.

Daryl’s hands gripped her at the waist firmly as he took steps backward with the momentum, their eyes catching each other before he quickly set her on her feet.

 He isn’t like the other men you’ve known.

Joan almost scoffed. They almost made the turn to go to the Monroe residence, but Daryl stopped suddenly beside the last gazebo that overlooked the warehouse. “You go to the party—” he told her. “I’m returning to the house.”

“You’re not coming?” Joan asked, narrowing her eyes. All the town must be at Monroe’s right now. Daryl hadn’t gone to the party before they’d left, but Joan had thought it was more because they had another job pending. Him not coming now would draw attention.

She shook her head. “No. All the town is at the party. You should be there, too.”

A flash of anger lit in his eyes. “I got nothing to prove—”

Joan held on the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying your absence would draw—” Her words cut off as she suddenly caught up two figures entering into their line of sight. In the dark, she couldn’t be sure, but they were heading towards them. Possibly wanting some privacy away from the others, Joan realized next as she saw them start kissing.

 Turning to Daryl quickly, they shared a quick look while the figures started walking again, just a couple looking for a place to make out. She tossed Daryl another look before catching his collar and drove him back against the gazebo’s beams to press herself against him.

He stiffened against her, his arms both flailing to his sides as Joan slid her hands over his upper arms. “Play along—” Joan whispered beside the corner of his mouth. “They’re coming.”

Hesitantly, his hands slid up and wrapped around her waist. Joan leaned into his chest further, as like a couple in the heat of moment, hiding her head at the crook of his neck as Daryl did the same.

Turning her head aside, Joan focused on the couple, Carol’s cryptic warning half in her ears. The couple was still walking, not giving them any attention as they took the sight just like Joan had tried to stage; an already making out couple, sneaking away from the party.

As they came closer, Joan spied golden hair lit under the moonlight over Daryl’s shoulder. She arched her neck an inch more and squinted, recognizing the girl.

“Beth—” she whispered in the dark, turning to Daryl. His gaze levelled down at hers. He was so close that Joan could feel his breath tingling over her skin and smell his distinctive scent. “It’s Beth and Ron.”

“Beth and Ron?” Daryl echoed her words in a rough drawl with a lost expression.

Joan nodded. His hands were still at her waist, keeping her close to his chest as they shared another glance.

His chest was so sturdy with lean muscles, just like his tensed biceps, and Joan had to forcefully stop herself from running her hands over them as the sudden urge nudged at her. His body was warm, too, so warm in the chilly night, and his closeness felt…nice. Joan realized how gingerly he was holding her at the waist. Her eyes found his again, so clear blue, and she almost made a move before she stopped herself.

Carol was right. Daryl wasn’t like the men she once knew, and it was better to be cautious than sorry. She couldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Joan took a step back. “Let’s go find the others—” she remarked, clearing her throat. “Tell them we’re clear.”

Daryl followed her without protest. They started moving again as Joan spied Beth and Ron had started kissing inside a gazebo not so away from them. Joan told herself they were just making out, but she suspected Amanda wouldn’t react this coolly when she realized what the teenagers were up to.

Daryl scowled at them but kept walking beside her in silence. They stepped out onto the main road towards the Monroe house. The guard was at the other side of the street, still watching the warehouse, unaware what had transpired under his watch. The thought made her oddly feel…accomplished.

Carol must have been still back at their house to hide the bags like they’d talked about before because when they returned to Deanna’s house, Joan couldn’t see the older woman. She searched for Amanda, too, but couldn’t see her, either. Her eyes roamed all over, scanning the spacious living room to spot any familiar sights before she also realized Rick wasn’t in the house, either.

Ah.

Joan almost sighed. They had a job tonight. It seemed to her that she, Carol, and Daryl were the only ones who still remembered that.

Carl found them a couple of minutes later, holding his baby sister in his arms. “Hey, Daryl—” the teenage boy walked closer to where they were retreated into a secluded corner. “Have you seen Beth?”

They shared a brief glance, but before Daryl could say anything, Joan replied, “No.”

“I can’t find Dad, either—” Carl commented further, looking around. The rest must be obvious, because the teenager didn’t say it out loud, as well. That Amanda wasn’t around, either. Instead, he gave Judith to Daryl. “Can you look after her?” he asked. “I’m gonna look for Beth.”

Daryl cuddled the baby girl silently as Joan shifted a look at him. It was one of those things with Daryl, the way Judith stayed soothed with him. Before Carl left the room, he met Clarice at the door. They exchanged a few words, then both turned and walked out.

Joan smelled the teenage drama even from where they stood. She softly laughed. “Well, it looks like Grimes men love their rom-com drama.”

Daryl turned to her, settling Judith against his chest, a pinched expression across his eyes that told her she’d pissed him off with her comment.

“What?” Joan half rolled her eyes. “An episode of 90210 just happens before our eyes.” He looked at her blankly. “Beverly Hills, 90210—” she elaborated as Daryl kept staring at her without any comprehension. “The teen drama. Oh, come on!” she cried out. “Don’t tell me you never saw the show.”

He shrugged, swaying the baby girl in his arms. Joan shook her head with a sigh. She thought of going and looking for Amanda, but something was telling her she really couldn’t find the police officer even if she tried.

Much like Carl, Aiden Monroe walked into the living room at that moment, his eyes searching over the crowd. There were drinks in his hands. Spotting them in the corner, the man walked over to them, too. Joan almost arched an eyebrow.

The dark-haired man stopped in front of them, eyeing Daryl and Judith with a scowl. “Hey—” the man spoke, turning to her. “Have you seen Amanda?”

Joan shook her head, wondering if there was a chaperone sign over their heads for tonight. “No,” she answered. “She must be outside.”

The man jerked his head into half nod, his eyes already turning away from her, surveying the room again. Joan wondered if he noticed Rick wasn’t around, either. It was pretty much obvious as Judith was with Daryl, and she guessed the man slowly noticed it since his expression slowly darkened.

Something irked her further as Joan wondered if the melodrama between the officers would get even more complicated with the addition of a new potential love interest. With his drinks and looks, Aiden Monroe sure looked like he was interested.

Joan had no idea how things were between Amanda and the deputy since they’d returned from their dinner date with those stony looks. Since that night they’d been ignoring each other again. Perhaps Carol would also exchange a few words over there, too.

Aiden Monroe nodded at them, coming to the conclusion that they really didn’t know where Amanda was, but before he took the first step, a sudden cry came from outside.

A screeching girl scream.

It happened so quickly. Turning aside instantly, Daryl handed the baby girl to her. “Stay here—” he ordered her quickly, giving her a heated look before he started sprinting after Aiden Monroe.

The interior of the living room started rushing outside, too, as Joan looked down at Judith, suddenly baffled how she’d ended up with the baby girl.

The shouts from outside started rising in volume, and hearing the sudden clamor, the baby began crying, too. Bowing her head, Joan stared at her before she started tentatively bouncing the baby the way just Daryl had been doing, but the poor thing just continued crying. Losing the battle, Joan decided to walk to the floor length windows that had a full front view.

Already a cluster of nosy onlookers was gathered in front of the window, trying to see what was happening. Joan tried to slither between them to catch a peek outside, still holding the baby.

With the first look she caught, she stopped dead still, staring at the Monroe’s front garden.

There were two girls—two screaming girls that were rolling over the flower beds, pulling each other’s hair; two girls Joan recognized well. Beth and Clarice Reese.

Looking up, she quickly checked around and saw Carl and Ron watching the girls fight from the mouth of the driveway. Carl ran toward them to split them up, shouting at Beth. Over his shoulder, Joan saw the katana blade he’d left at the house before they left. A confused expression pinched her features as Joan tried to understand.

The other teenager, the surgeon’s son, just watched it with a stark face, but his attention wasn’t directed at the girls but at Carl. Daryl was sprinting to the porch with Monroe as suddenly Joan heard Amanda’s hollering voice coming from the direction of the backyard.

“ELIZABETH GREENE!” Twisting aside, Joan saw Amanda running toward the front garden from the garage’s path, Rick on her heels. “What the HELL are you doing?”

With one look, Joan read the signs loud and clear.

If Aiden Monroe had any doubt about what kind of a relationship Amanda was having with their town’s new sheriff, it had to be perfectly clear now. Because with their disheveled clothes, tousled hair, and flushed skin even in the moonlight, it was quite obvious what the pair had been doing, possibly in the garage.

“Well, looks like we’ve started to get to know each other better, Judith,” Joan muttered to the baby.

# # #

When they got back to the house, Beth stormed off up the stairs even before Amanda could open her mouth. A second later, while she was still at the foot of the stairs, she heard the door banged loudly.

With a loaded sigh, Amanda climbed the steps. Taking the turn to the left, she padded toward their bedroom slowly. Between her legs was still sore, still aching, and she could feel the odd feeling of her nakedness under the dress as she walked, but she tried to push her mind away from those thoughts.

Goddammit! Why everything had to be like this?    

The only thing she’d wanted to do was to run back to the house and crawl under her bedcovers. Instead, she had split up a catfight between two teenagers without any underwear. She let out another big sigh, wondering what happened this time, what had gotten Beth to act like that.

God, they truly acted like nutcases. Amanda didn’t kid herself that the people gathered in Deanna’s front yard hadn’t realized what Rick and she had been up to from the way they’d come from the garage’s driveway.

No. The whole town was going to talk about tonight. How Beth fought with Clarice rolling around Deanna’s flower garden, and how Rick and she fucked in Deanna’s garage, after sneaking away from the party.

Amanda had also seen a glimpse of Deanna’s expression when the woman spotted her and Rick. Deanna had also realized what they had done. Frustrated, she shook her head and tried the handle, but couldn’t open the door. Beth had locked herself in. Amanda almost let out a frustrated scream. Almost.

Instead, she tried the door another time before she knocked. “Beth—” she started, but the teenager’s shrieking voice cut her off.

“Go away!” Beth yelled from inside. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk!”

For a second or so, Amanda pondered if she should pick her third lock in the same night. Somehow, she thought the act would only make Beth more…irrational. Sometimes you had to be alone. She should go and try to learn what had happened some other way. By the look of things, she suspected Carl would have an idea.

She started climbing down the stairs and saw Carol in the hall, looking upstairs. “What happened?” the older woman asked, as the same time, the screen door opened, and Rick appeared, with Carl right behind him. His expression seemed carved out of stone, much, much worse than before.

Seeing him again made Amanda remember all of her anxiety as her gaze ran over his disheveled figure and spotted the furious hickey she’d managed under his collar.

No one would have thought of them as something other than what they were, and as if Carl was thinking the same, the teenager’s face was stiff in the same way as his father’s. Amanda eyed the katana blade that he held in his right hand. She could swear Carl had left it in the house.

Carol shifted her gaze between them, reading their silent looks as the door opened another time and Daryl and Joan entered. Joan was holding Judith as Daryl escorted Mika. The scene turned even weirder as Joan looked like she was out of her element, the baby somehow ending up with her as they all stood in the hall silently.

It was Carol who broke it. “Mika, go up to the room—” she ordered firmly to the girl, who squeaked with a nod. “We’ll be coming soon.” When Mika had gone upstairs, she turned to them again and asked the thing they’d been wondering. “What happened?”

They all turned to Carl. The stiff expression the teenager wore turned to anger as Carl lunged at the staircase. “Ask Beth—” he snapped. “I’m going to bed!”

Without a word, Carl ran up the steps, the same way Beth had before the door banged another time upstairs. At the loud bang, Judith started softly crying, sensing the tension. Carol went to Joan and took the baby girl from her.

“I think we know what happened—” Joan announced, letting the crying Judith go as she shared a brief glance with Daryl. “Just before we went back to the party from the warehouse, we saw Beth and Ron coming to one of the gazebos.” Amanda raised an eyebrow. “They were kissing,” Joan stated after a beat.

Amanda shook her head, passing a hand over her face. “I guess Clarice and Carl caught them,” Joan continued. “When we came back from the armory, Carl and Clarice left to look for them. Carl left Judith with us when he couldn’t find you.”

With the last addition, her eyes flicked over them, too, the rest of the words left unsaid as it wasn’t needed.      

“Uh—” Amanda breathed, trying to focus on the teenage drama than their own R-rated stuff. “Why Clarice did react like that?”

Joan shrugged. “She’s got the hots for Ron?” the nurse suggested. “Ron and Clarice must’ve been very close until Beth and Carl came.” She paused for a second, tossing a look upstairs before she added, “Like Beth and Carl.”

Rick shook his head, frustrated, running his hand through his hair. “Christ, we can talk about it later—” he breathed out and turned to Joan and Carol. “Did you get the guns?”    

Carol gave a nod in affirmative, bouncing the baby girl. “Three guns, and a dozen boxes of ammos,” she answered immediately. “We couldn’t take much more than that.”

Rick nodded back. “Where are they?”

“Hid them inside our bedroom.”

“Okay. You keep them tonight—” he replied. “We’ll take the half and hide ‘em tomorrow.” He paused, letting out a sigh. “Okay. Let’s—” his words cut off when the door opened again and Glenn walked in, with all the others at his heels.

On the porch, Amanda even saw Eugene and Rosita staring at them owlishly. Great. Just great.      

“What’s happened?” Sasha asked, stopping beside them. “Is everything okay?”

Rick nodded quickly. “Yeah. Everything is just okay,” he snipped. “We were just calling it a night.”

His words couldn’t have been clearer. Sasha gave a terse nod, leaving the house. Glenn looked at them but didn’t say anything at all. Rick sighed another time under his breath, taking the first steps to go up. Daryl started going out to the garage where he slept, with Glenn walking down the corridor as Carol and Joan turned to the staircase.

Amanda stayed where she was. Understanding she didn’t move, Rick twisted aside at the second step. “Amanda—” he told her with a deliberate tone as Joan and Carol looked at her, too. “We’re gonna talk about it tomorrow.”

She gave them a look. “Beth locked herself in,” she said simply. “I can’t go in.”

Rick bowed his head, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in his habitual gesture. “Okay—” he breathed out. “You go up. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“With Carl?” she asked, shaking her head. “No. I take the couch.”

“You can sleep with us—” Joan offered, but Amanda shook her head again.

“No. You’re already too crowded. It’s okay,” she said, turning away to walk into the living room. She wasn’t big on sleeping in a living area when she looked like this, but as life had taught her many times, beggars couldn’t be choosers. She wasn’t going to kick Carl out of the room again, and frankly, she didn’t want to spend the rest of the night with Carol and Joan. Not when she wasn’t even wearing her damn panties underneath her dress!

She just wanted to be alone.

“You take the den—” Glenn spoke suddenly, returning from the hall. Amanda whipped her head up. “I’ll take the couch in the living room.”

“I—” Amanda started, but it was Rick who cut her off this time. “Amanda—” he told her with a pointed look. “It’s been a long night. Just go.”

She jerked her head in half nod. “Fine. Okay.” She half turned to Glenn. “Thanks.”

Glenn nodded silently without another word. “I’ll bring you a pillow and blankets,” Rick said, taking the stairs again. “We have spares in the master bedroom.”

When they all started moving, Amanda headed for the den. Inside, she threw herself on the couch and sat down taking her head between her hands. She felt tears welling up in her eyes as she stared at the floor.

Rick found her just like that. He left the pillow, blanket, and sheet beside her on the couch. Amanda didn’t raise her head. She could feel his eyes on her for a while as he stood above her silently while Amanda just stared down at the floor.

Reading her gesture loud and clear, without a word, he walked out of the room.

Amanda stood up after he left and locked the door, just to be sure.

She really wanted to be alone right now. Turning back to the couch, she started shuffling with the pillow and covers to make up her bed. When she picked up the sheet, a flash of black slipped through her fingers and fell on the floor beside her left foot.

Swallowing, Amanda realized what it was. She bent down and picked up her underwear Rick had hidden inside the sheets.

# # #

The next morning, the doorbell rang just after Rick took his shower and left the room. Carl had been still giving Rick silent treatment since last night, refusing to talk about what really happened, and Rick figured out he should give his teenage boy some time.

Perhaps he really should prepare the teenagers separate rooms, Rick reflected, climbing down the stairs, thinking of Amanda being locked out. He was padding to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. The door must be still locked, so no one had left the house yet.

The thought soothed him down a bit, as he was afraid Amanda might hightail it out again the first thing in the morning. Her dismissive gesture last night had said it openly even when her mouth didn’t. Leave me the fuck alone.

Rick wondered if she’d found her panties. He’d hid them because the thought of giving them back after last night just irked him. They’d just started another fight before the interruption, his intentions being questioned once more. Rick was getting tired of it, swinging between making outs, fights, and sex. But he wouldn’t have let her sleep like that, either.

At the other side of the door, unsurprisingly, Deanna’s aide stood with a pinched expression on her face. “Deanna wants to see you and Officer Shepherd,” Denise informed him briskly.

Rick nodded, jerking his head tersely. “Yeah—” he replied. “In an hour.”

The psychologist nodded before she turned to leave. Closing the door on her, Rick walked to the den. He knocked once. “Amanda—” he called out and waited, not inviting himself in.

A few seconds later, he realized he couldn’t do it even if he tried. The door was locked; Amanda cracked it open a few inches. Rick reminded himself Amanda couldn’t sleep in an unlocked room. It wasn’t because of him. Rick had noticed long before that she couldn’t even sleep without facing the door whenever they found themselves inside a place, always carefully arranging herself towards the door.

Rick hadn’t said anything about it because he understood. She couldn’t turn her back on a door and sleep. Yet the locked door still disturbed him, because he still knew it wasn’t only because of her issues.

He gazed at her through the crack as she gripped the door’s edge. Her hair was even more tousled, but her eyes were red. Rick wondered if she had ever slept last night. He hadn’t.

“We’re summoned—” he stated briskly, moving his jaw, standing at the threshold. “Deanna awaits us.”

Amanda made a dry noise. “I thought she would give us at least a few hours!” she muttered under her breath.

“I told Denise we’ll come in an hour,” he replied.

She nodded absently. “Yeah. ‘kay.” She finally opened the door, and Rick saw her clearly.

Her makeshift bed was almost untouched, even though Amanda looked even worse for wear. Her dress was wrinkled even further, her make up ruined, and her skin chaffed from his stubble, beard burn running along her neck. He wondered if he’d left any fingermarks on her ankles or her hips again, but shoved the thought away forcefully as soon as it crossed his mind.

“Go take a shower—” he told her stiffly. “I’ll prepare breakfast.” He turned back and trotted across the corridor towards the kitchen as Amanda, not opposing the idea, silently left the room and headed upstairs.

She showed up wearing new clothes that Rick recognized belonged to Joan. The rest of the house was still sleeping, so they ate breakfast in silence quickly, heads bowed over the bowls. He cleared the table as Amanda slid down from the stool, a faint pinched expression shadowing her face.

His hands halted as Rick set down the bowls inside the dishwasher. “Are you okay?” he asked quickly. The fear that he’d hurt her last night found him again brazenly. He knew he’d gone wild, and Amanda was a…very flexible woman, but she suffered intense muscle spasms whenever she became over stressed.

“Amanda—” he called to her, closing up the dishwasher. “You should go to the infirmary and ask for a muscle relaxer.”

The faint pinched expression on her face became a full scowl as soon as Rick uttered the words. “I’m fine—” she clipped curtly. “I don’t need drugs.”

“Amanda—”

“I said I’m fine—” she cut him off, tossing him an angry look. “Are we going or not?”

They stepped out of the house and walked to Deanna’s, both in silence. The morning breeze was chilly, but Rick welcomed the coolness. Her eyes cut over to the front yard when they arrived, then they moved over to the garage, but Amanda still didn’t say a word, so Rick didn’t, either.

It was Reg who escorted them in this time. He didn’t see any of the Monroe brothers, which Rick welcomed as a good sign. They were led upstairs immediately, to Deanna’s study as Rick also remembered they hadn’t talked about what exactly Amanda had seen inside the dossier.

That made him remember what she’d snapped at him last night too; in your file, Rick, there were many notes, but nothing about me, whereas mine has you.

Briefly, he wondered if what she’d seen there had caused her to react like that last night, storming out of the house when she’d seen him with Beatrice afterward. It sounded like something that would have Amanda’s nerves jittering again. Rick wondered then what she’d really seen in the files, there must be something—something she didn’t like.

Goddammit! He knew those files would only get her more rattled. He shouldn’t have let her do it. On the other hand, he was really curious what the files mentioned. Deanna looked up at them when Rick opened the door, a very cross expression on her face.

Her skin was pale, her eyes almost as red as theirs. Deanna hadn’t slept last night, either. She motioned to the seats in front of the desk with her head. They padded towards them and gingerly settled down.

“Rick—Amanda—” Deanna started as soon as they did. “I must say I’m very disappointed about last night.”

They both stayed silent, Amanda staring ahead at the wall as Rick just looked down at the floor. The moment oddly reminded Rick of the talk they’d had with Dawn after Amanda had almost lost her shit and attacked the woman before he’d stopped her. His eyes flicking upward, Rick saw her face having the same cold detached expression, too.

“This was about getting to know each other better—”

At Deanna’s words, Amanda finally reacted. A flash of anger colored her face as she turned her head towards the town’s leader. “They’re teenagers. Beth—” she began icily, but Deanna cut her off.

“Beth attacked Clarice last night—” she announced firmly. “I talked with Clarice and Ron. They both confirmed it. It was Beth who started it.” She paused for a second, her eyes turning colder as the woman fixated at them a stern look. “We don’t approve of such behaviors in this community.”

“We don’t approve of such behaviors, either—” Amanda replied in clipped tones, her jaw clenching. “We aren’t vagabonds.”

Deanna’s eyes darted across her neck. “Then don’t act like you are!”

“Deanna—” Rick decided to intervene as Amanda’s eyes lit with that green fire, but before he could continue, Amanda talked over him.

“Do you have any idea how it is to be outside?” she asked, staring at the woman, and hearing his damn words from her lips pierced Rick’s chest. “You think you do, but you don’t. You can’t.”

“Just a month ago, Beth watched her father as he was brutally killed, lost her home, then she lost her sister, too.” Amanda sprung to her feet, the fire in her growing. “So don’t stand there judging her before you walk in her shoes!”

“I’m not judging her.” Deanna’s tone was now sympathetic. “I know it was hard for all of you.” It didn’t calm Amanda down as she only snorted curtly in response. “I think she needs therapy to deal with her grief—” Amanda turned and stared at her. “Denise will supervise her.”

Rick moved his jaw as Amanda mouthed in those clipped tones. “No.”

Deanna turned to him. “Rick—”

Rick shook his head, too. “No. Amanda is right. Forcing her into therapy won’t work.”

“She needs help—”

“I am going to help her—” Amanda bristled. “She’s my responsibility. I’ll deal with it.”

“Amanda—”

“You can’t force her into therapy,” Amanda remarked coldly, cutting her off. “It’s only going to make her feel more ostracized.”

“Amanda is right,” Rick repeated. Amanda was. Beth already bore her stigmata over her wrist and palm. She didn’t need to be singled out more. “It would only make things worse. Let us deal with it.”

Deanna nodded briskly. “Fine. But I’m warning you. If she acts out again, she’s going to Denise.”

Rick nodded in the same way as Amanda started marching to the door, but Deanna stopped him before Rick could join her. “Rick, please stay. I need to talk to you further.”

Twisting aside, holding the door’s handle, Amanda threw them a pissed look, but walked out without a word. With an inward sigh, Rick settled down.

Deanna stared after her, then turned her eyes on him. “She’s not well, either,” she remarked with the same placidness. Rick’s jaw squared even further.

“She’s fine.”

The old woman jerked her head in disagreement. “If she’s got PTSD, she needs to work it out. You all do.”

Rick’s eyes moved up to stare at the woman sternly, not liking the words. “What you two did last night—” Deanna continued, holding his gaze, “was even worse than two teenagers fighting. Amanda says you’re not vagabonds, but you broke my hospitality last night, Rick.”

What the woman wanted to say couldn’t have been clearer. “I understand that you might want some…privacy, but my garage wasn’t the place.”

“We meant no harm,” he bristled, moving in his seat, not truly liking the words, because he knew Deanna was right.

“I know that,” Deanna countered. “But you are our sheriff—” she went on. “If you break into other people’s personal property to have sex, how can we expect the others to behave themselves?”

He jerked his head in a nod. “It won’t happen again.”

“Good—” Deanna mouthed out, but her expression shifting, the woman gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m not a stuck-up prude, Rick,” she told him with that small, kind smile. “I understand you two want to relieve some stress.”

His eyes narrowed at hearing the words.      

“I told you we’re open here to all kinds of relationships.” Her smile turned even a bit of a smirk as Rick started having a nagging suspicion that Deanna might have truly classified their relationship as friends with benefits. “Alexandria is a big place,” the woman still went on. “I’m sure you can find some other reclusive spots without breaking and entering.”

 Rick stood up with another terse nod. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to say they weren’t like that. That they weren’t casually fucking to blow off steam, but the way Amanda jerked her hand away from his, not wanting to be seen with him in public was still fresh in his mind.

So, without a word, Rick just walked out of the room.

# # #

After the talk in Deanna’s study, Amada was bristling with annoyance, irritation, and a bit of fear that Deanna might very well still carry out her threat. Even the notion of Beth sitting in a therapy session—her hand forced—was making her growl out with frustration.

Never. She would never let that happen, making her feel like this—as if, as if something was wrong with her. Granted, there was something wrong, but they were going to figure out. Beth didn’t need a shrink dissecting her the way they usually did—probing, poking at you, asking you questions.

She suppressed a tremble, all of her times in the forced sessions and interviews coming to her, but she forced those memories down. She would never let Beth go through that, never. Amanda was going to deal with it. She would. She would figure out a way.

First, though, she needed to get the girl out of the room.

Out of the house, in fact, Amanda realized as she stepped inside. The house had slowly woken up from its slumber. Carol was with Mika and Judith in the living room. Glenn and Joan were preparing breakfast. She’d seen Daryl on the porch, but there was no sign of Carl.

Amanda bypassed everyone and climbed upstairs. She walked directly to their bedroom and tried the door again. It was still locked.

The knock she made was slow, but firm. “Beth, open the door,” she called out with the same gentle firmness. She paused for a second. “I am wearing Joan’s clothes.”

After that, she heard shifting sounds from the other side, and the door opened a few seconds later. Amanda nudged it open, walking in and seeing Beth climbing into bed again. Beth propped herself against the headrest and stared at her.

Much like her, Beth was still wearing the same dress from last night, her light makeup ruined just how Amanda had woken up this morning, too. “I saw a yoga swing yesterday in the gym,” she remarked the teenager placidly. “I’m going to fix it up, but I need help.”

Her inquiry wouldn’t be any clearer, but Beth gave her another look, not moving. “We need to start working out again.”

It wasn’t even an excuse to get Beth out of the room, to do something. She’d spent a lot of time idle. The brief boxing workout she’d done in the morning almost floored her, and all exertion they’d done last night had just piled upon it.

“I’m going out for a supply run next week with Aiden’s team,” Amanda continued, deciding to play a different angle. “If you want to come, you need to start working out.”

Beth cocked her head aside, revealing faint scratches along her neck, marks that Amanda had missed last night. But they weren’t love bites. They were from her fight. “Will you take me?” she asked, her voice suspicious.

A part of her—the fretting part, still wanted to say no, but Amanda suppressed it. Beth didn’t need therapy. She needed this. “Yes. I promised you I would when I decide we can get along with Aiden and his team.”

“Can we?” Beth asked, her voice this time having a stronger suspicion.

Well, Amanda felt the sentiment, as well. “I guess we’re just gonna have to roll with it,” she muttered.

She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. Aiden and his team seemed good enough, but Amanda was still having qualms taking a rookie along with them, but sometimes you just had to take the leap of faith. Learning was mostly done by trial and error, by experience, and Beth needed to get out. She felt the same need, too. The town was getting too suffocating.

She turned her eyes on Beth again. “Are you coming or not?”

In answer, Beth swept her legs over the bed’s edge. “I’m taking a shower first.”

Amanda changed into her sports attire while Beth showered. Her yoga pants just reached her ankles, which barely managed to cover the half fingerprints Rick had left on her skin. She hadn’t realized how tightly he gripped her ankles last night. The memories tried to assault her barriers, the way he fucked her over the pool table, holding her ankles, kissing her feet—

Shaking her head as if to push away the images, she scurried over to the vanity table. Her mood was bouncing again, and she really wanted to work out now. Run, hit something, or just hang upside down. She wasn’t picky.

Amanda jerked open the first drawer and took out the concealer. She’d opted for a loose sweater over her tank top to cover her neck, but it wasn’t still enough. Applying the creamy product over her chafed skin and love bites, she prayed the collar of her sweater wouldn’t get stained and letting her hair down for tactical advantage, she threaded her fingers through her locks to give them more volume.

What was done, was done. Everyone knew about what they had done in the garage last night, breaking into it, and she had a feeling that it was what Deanna wanted to talk about with Rick.

Amanda felt glad she was excluded from that talk, although a part of her also felt—disturbed, remembering In affiliation with RG*.

Her face souring, she threw the concealer inside and closed the drawer. She thought about going downstairs and checking on Judith. She hadn’t seen the baby girl since last night. But she still didn’t want to see the others. Instead, she walked over the bed they’d made in the corner where her kitten was still sleeping, curled around herself.

Amanda hadn’t seen her kitty since last night, either, and missed her. She knelt down and took the small furball into her arms. Cinnamon gave out a soft meow in protest as Amanda woke her up. “Sorry, baby girl—” she muttered, standing up. “Let’s get your belly filled up.”

Leaving the room, she headed down for the kitchen. She didn’t know why the powers that be finally decided to have mercy on her, but when she walked in, she saw the kitchen was empty. Putting Cinnamon down on the tiles, she quickly prepared a mix from Judith’s formula and milk powder and gathering her up in her arms, she started feeding the baby kitten.

She thought the kitty might drink on her own now, but somehow Amanda liked the notion of feeding her as the cute thing curled up between her arms, licking the feeder hungrily. It just soothed her. She wondered if they should take Cinnamon with them to the gym in the community center. Beth would like it, as well.

The kitten could prowl inside while they worked out. It wouldn’t hurt anyone. The outside door opened. Amanda quickly turned her back on the door when she heard Rick’s voice from the other room. “Where’s Carl?” she heard him ask

He must be at the threshold, because even though she heard his question, she couldn’t hear the answer.

“Okay. I’ll go find him, and then we’ll leave. I’ve got a place to hide the guns and ammo in mind. We’ll go there.”

Amanda heard footsteps next. She left the feeder on the countertop and turned around as Rick appeared at the kitchen door. “Hey—” he greeted her, coming near the island and propping a foot up on the bottom rungs of a stool. Amanda bent down and left the kitten on the floor again.

Cinnamon hurried out of the kitchen on her tiny paws as Rick darted a look at her, before he turned to look at Amanda. “Going out for a run?”

She shook her head. “No. I saw a yoga swing in the gym yesterday morning. Gonna fix it up,” she answered briskly, turning aside to wash the feeder. “Will take Beth, too—” she added, turning on the faucet.

“Okay—” Rick said behind her in a slow tone. “I’ll take the guns out with Carl. Will you come?”

She jerked her head, her back still to him. “No. I need to do this.”

“Okay.”

The silence was filled with the sound of running water. Amanda didn’t ask what he’d talked with Deanna about. Rick didn’t volunteer to tell, either.

“Where’s Carl?” she inquired instead after a while, shaking the feeder under the water jet.

“He left with Clarice.”

That made her stop. Twisting her head, she looked at him over her shoulder. “Clarice?”

“Yeah.” He slid over on the stool. “Carol said she came by after we left for Deanna’s.”

Amanda turned back, nodding, and turned off the faucet. She shook the feeder for another time to dry it off before resting it over on the drying cloth beside the sink. With nothing to do anymore, she had no option but to turn again and face him. Resting herself against the edge of the countertop, she looked down at Cinnamon who had come back and started rubbing herself against Amanda’s legs.

Amanda smiled at the kitten. She bent down and scooted up the kitty. “I’ll put them with the others—” Rick started again as she did. “But do you want one, too?”

Holding the baby tabby, Amanda shook her head. “No. If we get caught, it’s better to explain one of us than all of us carrying them.” She paused, shrugging. “Besides, you are the sheriff. Deanna will need to let you carry a firearm sooner or later.”

Rick made a sound, bowing his head, playing with a glass someone had left. He picked it up and carried it to the dishwasher, instead of washing it himself. They stared at each other after he was done, and she almost started walking out as his gaze moved over her neck. Beth showed up at the door just before she made a step.

“I’m ready—” she prattled, shooting them a look. “We’re going?”

“Yeah—” Amanda hurried toward her. “Let’s go.”

“We’re taking Cinnamon, too?” she asked when Amanda didn’t put the kitten on the floor.

Amanda affirmed with an absent nod. “Yeah. She’s gonna keep us company.”

She could feel Rick’s gaze on her back while she left the kitchen, but she pretended not to notice, not saying anything, either.

God. This was getting even worse than she’d suspected it would. She guessed they should have another talk, but all in frankness, Amanda didn’t feel like they resolved shit by talking. She’d thought they were getting better, spending time together, getting to know each other, but in the end, they’d just messed up things more.

The only woman I want to know better is you.

The words and how he’d uttered them, when he’d whispered them to her ear made her tremble, but Amanda suppressed them. They arrived at the community center without further incident. The town looked like it was still in an idle slumber after the dinner party last night, like it was a lazy Sunday morning.

Amanda wondered what day it was, not that it would make a difference anymore. She opened the door of the center for Beth, and they headed for the boxing studio in the corner. There was a Pilates studio beside it, tucked between the locker rooms, and the general cardio area by the boxing studio, where Amanda had seen the elastic bands and swing yesterday.

As Amanda searched the studio, Beth sat on the big blue Swiss ball and started rocking back and forth. The sight almost made Amanda smile. She started bouncing on the top of it. “I’ve always wanted to play with this thing.”

Amanda tossed her a look. “It’s not a plaything—” she warned with a half smile. “Can get pretty much tortuous.”

Beth raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“What’s that?” Beth asked, cocking her head at the Pilates reformer equipment. “Looks like a torture machine, too.”

Amanda let out a low laugh, eyeing the flat bed with towers, bars, and strings with loops.      

“Why does all work out equipment look like devised for torture?” Beth asked, laughing.

“I usually try not to think about it—” Amanda shot back, drawing back, finding the elastic band swing, holding back a snicker. She craned her neck up and surveyed the ceiling but couldn’t see any hooks and bit her bottom lip. “There are hooks in the ceiling in the boxing studio for hanging heavy punching bags. Let’s go.”

The boxing studio was empty, too. Amanda really took it as a good sign, wanting to knock on some wood. Draping the swing over her shoulder, Amanda eyed the ceiling again, craning her neck upward once more.

Unlike the Pilates studio, there were a couple of spare hooks that had been installed on the ceiling, waiting for someone to link up a heavy bag or a yoga swing, like in their case.

The problem was that they needed a ladder. She figured they must have something stashed around here, so they checked around first before moving to the maintenance building to find one. Beside the men’s locker room, she saw a storage closet, and inside what she was looking for.

They carried it to the studio, and Amanda climbed and stood on the small landing at the top. Beth was holding the ladder steady, with Cinnamon slithering around her legs. “Joan and Daryl saw you and Ron last night—” Amanda started, still eyeing the hook. “She said you were kissing.”

Her eyes casting down, Amanda saw Beth’s eyes tilt up. “She said they were kissing, too?”

Amanda snapped her head down. No. Joan hadn’t said that part. “Hmm…” she hummed. “She left out that part.”

Beth snickered. “We just kissed—” she said then a couple of seconds later. “Nothing more.”

Amanda bobbed her head. “Okay.” She paused before starting to pass the swing’s loop through the hook. “So what happened?” She paused. “Carl and Clarice saw you?”

The teenager let out another snicker. “Do you think that’s what happened?” she asked, a knowing tone in her voice, and Amanda realized that, no, she didn’t know at all. She fixed the loops at the hook and twisted them into a knot and gave a sturdy pull to test it out.

Satisfied, Amanda hopped down the steps and sat on the second step, propping her feet on the first one. “So, what?” she asked again. Because something obviously had happened.

“Clarice parked Beatrice’s car in the backyard behind the garage when we came—” Beth started retelling. Amanda had seen a back road that circled the backside of the house and garage towards the side that faced the wall. They might have taken a tour, so they didn’t see the car or the teenagers last night.

“Ron and I, when we returned, we made a detour. Came from the back road. Saw them beside the car.”

Even the thought of Carl being around the garage last night made her more rattled, but Amanda ignored it as Beth snickered again. “Somehow instead of looking for us, they ended up in the backyard.” Amanda cocked up an eyebrow at her, looking at the teenager. She sounded pissed and bitter, as if how Amanda sounded when she became jealous.

Her jaw squared, understanding what might’ve happened. “Clarice was holding Carl’s katana, and they were kissing,” Beth remarked. “In fact, he was doing a bit more than kissing.”

Her eyebrows rose even further. “You know—hand inside her dress,” Beth elaborated, waving a hand over her chest.

Ah.

“Okay—” Amanda breathed out, extending out her feet on the floor. “You snogged Ron, and Carl made out with Clarice,” she summarized, giving her a look with a question mark. “How did you and Clarice managed to get into a fight?”

“She drives me crazy—” Beth bristled with a shrug. “Carl even let her unsheathe the blade. She was swinging it, too.” She paused, an angry expression twisting her beautiful features. “She acts so blasé, playing with swords, throwing smirks. I hate it.”

Amanda heaved out deeply. “Beth—”

“She called me a nutcase!” she seethed out.

“Deanna said it was you who attacked her first—” Amanda remarked, her tone getting firm, eyeing the teenager carefully. “Is it true? Did you start it?”

That made Beth more confrontational. “What if I did?” she demanded, a challenge in her voice, her chin raised up.

Amanda regarded her coolly and decided to be…logical and practical with her answer. There was so much emotion running wildly around, freely.

“Deanna wanted you to see Denise—” Beth’s eyes grew scandalously wide as she understood what she meant. “I barely managed to talk her out of it, but if something happens like this again, she will assign you to the therapist.”

“She can’t do that!”

“She can—” Amanda answered, “And she will, too, if you won’t stop this.” She paused, looking at the teenage girl clearly. “Beth, I know you feel angry, and you’ve every right for it—” she added, seeing the blue fire in her eyes. “But you have to control your anger before it starts controlling you.”

“Anger makes you stupid, and stupid gets you killed—” Beth muttered. Amanda nodded. “I once heard Michonne say that.”

And Michonne was dead, circled with countless butchered dead rotters. A clear sight that the woman couldn’t have heeded her own wise words. Amanda heaved out another deep sigh, standing up, the woods coming to her again, how Carl had escaped out of anger, what had almost happened.

“Let’s stretch a bit—” she suggested, finishing with the talk. More than this would be too much. She didn’t want to push the teenager. Beth needed time, too, like each of them. Besides, they needed some proper warm ups before they started really exercising.

Amanda nodded to herself, getting in line with Beth in front of the mirror after they put the ladder away.

The rest of the day went on…uneventfully. After leaving Beth, Amanda went to the bell tower for her shift and stayed up there for the rest of the morning and up into the afternoon. By the time Rick and the others returned, she’d started making a layout for her training ground.

When she came back for lunch, she learned Rick had gone outside to check out the road with Aiden for how to block the intersection. When he came back, he took the evening shift at the bell tower and stayed up the whole night.

Supper passed pretty much uneventfully, too. Carol made a casserole, which meant Amanda opted for pasta instead. She couldn’t eat any casserole dish right now. Beth and Carl were kind, but distant, and the way Carl acted vaguely reminded Amanda of Rick. Kind and distant might be in the Grimes’ bloodlines, she thought to herself as she ate her pasta silently.

After supper, they watched another movie together in the living room, but if someone asked her what it was about, Amanda couldn’t answer a damn thing. Though tonight it wasn’t because of Rick’s arm that was barely touching her neck, or the warmness of his body that messed up with her brain. No. Amanda just couldn’t…concentrate.

So she stared at the screen, her hands idly stroking Cinnamon’s head. She wondered if Rick had taken his suede jacket. The nights were already cold enough, but up there at the bell tower, it was even worse. She almost made a move to stand up and check the coat stand in the hall, but stayed where she was.

One by one, their crowd retired to their bedrooms. Carol was the first one, taking Mika, as Joan followed after a quick talk Daryl who was still outside. For a while, Amanda thought of going and asking what was going on. Beth had said they were kissing last night, too, but she just didn’t feel like getting into anyone else’s love life right now.

She told Beth she would come up later as the girl went upstairs, Carl following her with Judith. She gave the little angel a kiss in Carl’s arms as Beth took Cinnamon up to their room. Then Amanda sat on the couch alone. Fifteen minutes later, she took her sketchbook and went outside.

Amanda walked to her training field and worked on the measurements and counts a bit more in the moonlit dark. It was really cold outside, but it felt good to her in a way, too, waking her up, clearing up the cobwebs from her mind.

Measurement wise, she just couldn’t decide how long the track would be. Abraham had insisted that it should be a proper full-length track, but Amanda already knew forcing such a drastic exercise on everyone was extreme.

No. She much preferred having options. One for the mandatory course, the other for an advanced class. The thing was that she wasn’t sure enough that Deanna would let her build two different training fields inside the perimeters. Alexandria was a big place, but not that much, and Rick was pretty adamant on getting his own field for food, too.

She wondered about the flower beds, idly walking back to the porch. It was well past midnight. The moon was high, its waxing light giving everything in a silver sheen. Rick must’ve already come back and gone to bed.

Amanda slowly cracked the door open, careful not to make any noise. Taking off her boots, she tossed her boot knife inside one of them and padded towards the staircase after she shook off her leather jacket. At the first step, she just stopped and headed to the living room.

Sleep was still eluding her, and even the thought of being inside a small room, in a bed, triggered a sort of claustrophobia in her. She would pass a little more time outside on the porch, clear her mind, and watch the stars and moon. They were so beautiful.

Inside, her footsteps softening due to her socked feet, she quickly made it to the couch where a blanket lay before she left for the porch. Bending down, she reached out, then her eyes picked him out.

Rick was standing beside the floor-length window, just at the corner, his body obscured, but he must be seeing outside clearly. He’d seen her coming, even heard it, but hadn’t made a sound. Her shoulders strained. His body was half twisted towards her as he eyed her silently.

Amanda drew up. “Couldn’t sleep?”

He shrugged. “Were you out?”

She nodded. “I came to take a blanket,” she said, taking it up from the couch. Rick still barely slept, Amanda knew. They both hadn’t slept last night, she also knew. “Was gonna sit a while on the porch.”

Rick merely nodded in return and walked over to her. “Yeah, let’s go.” He passed by her, and Amanda, furrowing her brows, gave a look at his back before she followed him.

Outside on the porch, she threw the blanket over her shoulders and wrapped herself in it before she went to stand beside him at the railings. The white of it sparked silver under the moonlight as Amanda bowed her head and stared at them silently.

“I talked to Carl today—” Rick spoke in a low voice. Amanda lifted her head.

“I did with Beth, too,” she countered. “Do you know about Carl and Clarice?”

Rick gave a quick nod. “Yeah. He confessed when I started questioning him about Michonne’s sword.”

Amanda nodded, too. “Beth said they were…you know, second base.” Rick’s eyes swept over to her as she repeated Beth’s gesture over her chest. “You have to talk to him, Rick.”

Her hand slipped inside her blanket and found her front pocket. She’d taken one of the two condoms she’d tucked inside returning to the house after her talk with Beth before she left for the bell tower. She offered the shiny blue package to Rick.

“We can’t take any chances,” Amanda remarked, trying to keep her voice as cool as possible as Rick eyed it critically. They were teenagers. It was just too risky. She’d made up her mind. She couldn’t give the other one to Beth yet, but Amanda had decided.

She couldn’t let Beth live through an accidental pregnancy. “I’m gonna give the other one to Beth—” she went on, giving a soft pat on her pocket through the blanket. “Uh, I’ll ask Joan if they have spares in the infirmary, too.”

Rick’s head whipped at her as Amanda realized what she’d just uttered. Heat emitted out of her as Rick took a step closer to her, turning aside fully to face her. “I’ve only got a few left now—” she sputtered out with a shrug. “We—”

Suddenly his eyes glazed watching her, and Rick lunged forward and pressed his lips on hers, silencing the rest of her words.

He wasn’t getting any closer, though, wasn’t towing her to his chest, wasn’t wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. No. Rick was just kissing her, demanding, searching, but Amanda didn’t kiss him back.

Though, she didn’t step back, either. She just stood there and let him kiss her.

A second later, Rick stopped and pulled back. He was staring at her silently once more with that keen look, eyes like frosted glass, his jaw seemed like chiseled marble under his stubble with the chill. On its own accord, her hand rose and touched the side of his face.

Amanda could see the way he swallowed low in his throat, his deep eyes on her. She couldn’t help herself. She started stroking his jawline.

Rick let out a low sound, his eyes half closing for a second before he lunged another time, this time fully, bodily driving her back against the railings corner beams, and the next, they were kissing madly.

Amanda didn’t even understand how her arms became wounded around his neck as he pushed against her further, the blanket somehow getting stuck between her shoulder blades and the beams against her back.

She could hardly focus on those things because she just wanted to kiss him, taste him, suck him. Their tongues clashed as her hands moved up from the nape of his neck and tangled through his dark curls.

Rick’s lips trailed off over to her neck. “You got another condom?” he asked her throatily.

Drawing back an inch, Amanda flicked her eyes aside to catch his. Glazed like diamonds, frosted glass, moonlight sparkling silver inside. “Yeah—” she breathed out. “Where?”

That was the only thing registering into her mind now. Where—where to fuck again, all the rest silencing in her, all the questions, all the qualms, all the nagging doubts, everything covered under a thick soundproof mess as Amanda barely kept herself jumping into his arms. She wanted to wrap her legs around him, missing his hardness pressed against her, wanting to have that ache inside her inner thighs again.

She even desired that soreness between her legs. She started grinding against him, pulling him closer over to herself.

Breaking their contact, Rick drew back and grasped her hand. The blanket almost slipped off onto the porch’s floor when he tugged at her, but he caught it the next second over his elbow. “Come—” he whispered as he dragged her down the steps.

Without a protest, hurrying beside him, Amanda followed as Rick marched down the driveway. He crossed the narrow cobblestone pathway that separated their houses, landing on the other side over the short bushes, and took the other house’s driveway.

Amanda realized where they were heading to when she saw the garage. Their garage had been taken by Daryl, but the other house’s was still unoccupied. The key was inside the house, too, but Rick didn’t seem like he was bothered by it. Her clip was back at their house, but her unspoken inquiry answered when they arrived, as Rick, letting go of her hand, fished out a clip out of his duty belt and started working on the lock.

Amanda went to his back, and wrapping her arms around his waist, she tucked her hands inside his pockets and started nibbling at his neck the way he’d done to her last night when it had been her doing the work.

Rick hissed out as Amanda bit the edge of his earlobe. “What did Deanna tell you this morning?” she asked, suddenly wanting to know.

The door opened, and Rick nudged it open, and reaching behind his back to twirl her around, he backed her inside as his lips started devouring hers again instead of an answer.

The garage was empty. They didn’t have stuff to store, and the previous owners hadn’t left anything other than a square work bench at the other side of the room and a few tools that were hung on the wall above it. Rick dropped the blanket on the dusty concrete floor before lowering them over it just a few steps away from the door.

“Told me not to break into places to have sex—” he muttered against her ear before straightening up on his knees to take off his shirt. Amanda pulled off hers quickly, throwing it away with his at the same time. She got to her knees and tugged at his belt, her hands already unbuckling it as fast as she could as Rick started unzipping her pants with the same zest.

God, she couldn’t even remember when she’d ever gotten naked that fast. Rick pulled off her pants together with her panties as Amanda kicked off her boots. Rick tossed off his, too, with his feet, resting her on the rumpled blanket on her back. Half of her naked body was over the dirty, cold floor but Amanda didn’t feel any of it.

She grasped his head between her hands and gave him an open mouth kiss as Rick ripped open the condom’s package.

“It’s not breaking and entering now, is it?” Amanda rasped out, nibbling at his bottom lip.

Rick plunged himself into her with a swift, full stroke, not giving her a moment, not that she needed one. She was so soaking wet, the only thing she wanted was him. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she raised her hips and met his next thrust.

“I don’t fucking care—” Rick muttered, and it took a while for the words to register into her brain.

Their eyes met before Rick dove and gave her an open-mouthed kiss just like she did, his hand unhooking her right leg from around his waist. He grabbed her ankle and hauled her leg up over her chest.

Amanda didn’t fucking care, either. She was going to care later.

So, she only tossed her head back, her eyes rolling up, her hands clawing at the back of his hips to get him inside her even further, and her nails digging as Rick gave her what she wanted.

Notes:

So, Rick has finally entered in 'dammit, let's fuck then' state, too. I even remember myself while outlining making a note as 'sex, sex, sex' for the next chapter. Heh. I had great time writing this chapter, so many stuff happening, stuff I kept giggling while writing, hope you enjoyed it, too.
Don't forget/hesitate to leave a comment if you feel inclined to. It really means a lot, and makes me feel better :)
Until the next time!

Chapter 15: 'Why?'

Summary:

Amanda and Rick's relationship takes a new turn as Carl makes to his father another request. Rick asks Amanda a question she couldn't answer.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Her nails scratched his shoulder blades as Rick hastened his pace.

Slim legs bent at the knee at both his sides on the edge of the workbench, Amanda was holding onto him with one arm coiled around his shoulder and neck as she was arched back against the wall supported on her other hand. Rick grabbed her hips tightly to keep her in the position, but not satisfied, he gathered her up in his arms fully and drew back. When he started thrusting into her while standing, Amanda clutched him tighter, both arms now wrapped around his shoulders, her nails scratching his back deeper.

After minutes that passed like eons, Rick sat her on the bench again, his hips slamming against her faster and faster, lost in the moment, lost in lust, lost anything but fucking her, eyes shut closed in a savage rhythm, beads of sweat clinging his hair on his forehead. If that was the only thing that they seemed to be able to do, Rick was going to do it properly.

He hauled her against him, his grip on her tightly like clasps. She was rolling with him, as lost as Rick, her head tossed back, trying to meet with his every thrust as she held onto him for dear life.

His orgasm shattered him when it erupted, spilling himself into the condom until the last drop. She loosened her grip, too, her legs around his waist slipping down over the bench’s edge as Rick stayed up between them, propping his head on her shoulder.

Shivering, Amanda slumped against him, too, heaving deeply. This wasn’t the wildest morning sex they’d had since that night in the garage three days ago. They’d been fucking each other madly for three days at whatever opportunity they could find between their schedules, before or after, in the morning, evening, night…

Yesterday, they’d managed to slip away four times; two times in the garage, first after breakfast before Amanda went to her morning shift on gate duty, the other in the afternoon in the community center’s storage room Amanda had somehow located beside the lockers. The other was after his shift in the bell tower in  the evening in the maintenance building before she took her shift. When she came back, Rick greeted her on the porch first, then dragged her to the garage again.

By the look of the things, Rick surmised they would be utilizing the last of her condoms. He had to find more condoms, he idly thought, still propped against her silently, because he wasn’t going to stop doing this—whatever it was. He still didn’t fucking care.

If this was what Amanda wanted, they were going to do it. Rick was tired of fighting, and sex was good. Sex was amazing. In the morning, they fucked more sedately, but at night, they grew wilder, more than Rick had ever thought would be possible before. Amanda was damn flexible.

Despite his frustration and annoyance, a part of him was also thrilled by it, all these sneaky quickies inside the hidden places they found, shivers running along his spine, his cock as hard as stone. He hadn’t planned to kiss her three days ago when they went out on the porch. He really was thinking of going inside, deal with it in the morning, deal it later like they always did, but somehow he ended up kissing her. The rest was a whirlwind of lustful frenzy that had been continuing since then.

They’d tried all the positions Rick would think of, every position Rick had ever fantasized, some of them he wasn’t even aware he had until he did. It was like he was discovering something deep inside him, too, that violent part inside him taking the reins as Rick let go. Once he’d even come closer to fucking her ass, his hand cupping her round bottom tightly as he drove in her from behind, his fingers rubbing and massaging around her hole before his thumb slipped inside an inch.

Amanda had squeaked, and Rick had almost lost it, almost had pulled out and buried himself into her tightest hole, hanging on the edge before he had regained his self-control. There was something vulgar in it, taking a woman like that, something Rick just couldn’t have imagined himself desiring…so badly.

He took a step back, pulling out of her before his penis started softening inside the condom and caused them more problems. He disposed of the latex quickly, half twisting his body away from her as Amanda hopped down from the bench.

Even though Rick had become acquainted with it a lot during the last three days, her naked form was still a sight to behold for him. Amanda bent down and started putting on her clothes with a methodical quickness as if she was preparing for her shift in the locker room. Her expression was neutral, nowhere close to that soothed glow when she used to lay in his arms after an orgasm.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, his jaw squared. Her orgasm seemed earnest, and Amanda appeared to look forward to their copulation as eagerly as Rick did. Each time she almost jumped him as soon as they were alone, tearing off his clothes with such a lustful zest that Rick thought she was aflame with heat.

Rick turned to her at the same time she turned to him, settling her blouse over her tank top. He knew she was going to hit the gym after a short run on the track with Beth. They’d started working out together three days ago. She fussed with the blouse’s neckline quietly, draping it over her shoulder. There were still faint marks on her neck, which she hid with her hair half tugged up.

“What’s your schedule today?” she questioned a second later, bending down to put on her sneakers.

That was another follow-up they did after they fucked in the morning, comparing their schedules to slot time between the chores to sneak away. Yes, Amanda was eager as much as him.

Rick almost asked her what they were really doing, fucking each other senseless in weird places like they were really just fuckbuddies, but instead, he answered, “I’m going out to check the intersection. Will take Carl, too.”

Amanda nodded.

“Then I’ll talk with Deanna about the flower beds. We start today,” Rick continued.

Raising her head as she tied her shoelaces, she gave him another half nod. “Be careful. The townspeople won’t like it.”

Rick shrugged. “You?”

“I’m in today. Will work on the training field. Have a shift in the evening. You?”

“After midnight.”

“Before your shift then—” She gave him a look, standing up. Rick nodded. “Where?”

Where?

Her questioning is usually followed by that. When? And then where?

“Here—” As spartan as the garage is, it was still the easiest, safest option. “Before supper.”

It wasn’t exactly a question, but Amanda still bobbed her head again. “’kay.” She trotted toward him. “Come to see me if you can in the meanwhile—” Each morning that was her way to…encourage him to drag her away during the day before she walked out with a chaste kiss.

She pressed her lips against his quickly. “See ya around.”

And with that, she was gone.

Alone in the chilly, sparse room, Rick waited for five minutes like they usually did each time, his jaw setting before he followed her out.

He made his morning patrol as Amanda ran, Beatrice following her on the tracks. Beth hadn’t still come out yet, but Amanda and Beatrice kept away from each other. They’d talked briefly two days ago after the fight between Clarice and Beth, with Deanna moderating…the talk. Beatrice had been unusually cold, but willing to let it go, though she advised perhaps the girls should be away from each other for a while.

Something they all had agreed upon.

Amanda and Beatrice’s tension had lessened a bit after then, but they were both ignoring each other now. Amanda didn’t look like she was minding it, and Rick had no qualms about it. The only thing they needed now another tension between them spawning from jealousy. They’d already had enough.

Rick had started seeing Clarice and Carl together a lot more, as Beth usually spent time with Amanda whenever she was available. The teenager also had started helping her in the training field, assisting the project, and dragged Ron along with it as Carl was tagged with Rick.

Rick saw Glenn beside the gate, finishing his own shift on gate duty. Their numbers still weren’t enough people to cover all the shifts, so those able took multiple shifts.

It was a busy schedule, but necessary. They were going out today with Aiden’s team again, arranging the cars to close off the road, and then there was the safe house Rick still hadn’t prepared to his satisfaction. He didn’t have time to take this many watches, but it had to be done.

Amanda had to start that class soon though.

Carl was with Glenn, Michonne’s—his blade slung over his right shoulder. The sword belonged to Carl now. Rick was skeptical of Carl using it without proper training, but Rick had been showing him a few tricks they’d taught them in the academy with batons. The rest Carl was going to have to learn by trial and error, like Michonne had done.

Rick had always suspected Michonne knew how to wield it prior to the turn, that she hadn’t just found a katana blade laying around and taught herself, but that mystery died along with her. Carl was going to have to make do what they had.

Beside Carl, there was someone else, too, someone Rick didn’t expect to see. Clarice. Twisting aside, Rick turned his attention to the blonde teenager. “I want to come, too—” she declared.

Rick shook his head. “No.” He had no wish to get into another quarrel with Deanna over a teenage girl.

“Carl said he’s going out—”

“Carl has experience. You don’t—” Rick countered. “Carl also has his parent with him, and you don’t—”

Clarice’s young face shifted as Carl turned to him, too. “Dad—”

Rick cut his son off. “You both know what Deanna says. It’s not my call—” he deflected the situation, easily laying the blame on the town’s leader. “After Amanda starts her lessons, we can talk about it again.”

All in honesty, despite his need to have more hands on deck, Rick also had no desire to babysit anyone, taking them on a tour outside. He had too much to do.

He jerked his head at them, seeing Aiden and his team approach. Abraham and Rosita were coming from the other direction as well as everyone rounded up. Abraham had doubled his own efforts to settle the town to be as secure as possible when he’d realized Rick really wouldn’t leave until he became one hundred percent certain about the safety.

The thing was that Rick wasn’t still sure about it—going to D.C, risking an unknown territory, risking another big city just for something they might devise, but he also wasn’t going to say it aloud to Abraham at this point.

First things first. They would put everything back in order, then they would sit down and talk, make pros and cons, and then decide.

“Are we ready?” Abraham asked, eying them as Clarice marched away from the gate understanding she was being left behind. Carl stared after her, a cross expression on his face, looking torn, as if he couldn’t decide to follow her or not before he shifted his attention to his father and glared at Rick.

Rick held back an irritated sound, trying not to think of the talk he had with his son after the night Amanda had given him the condom. That condom was still in his pocket, waiting. He still couldn’t bring himself to pass it to Carl.

God, he really wanted a drink now. Or at least a smoke. Or…to kill a few walkers. The idea of Carl being that old was still bothering him, as much as the way things were between him and Amanda, on a different level.

Rick knew he couldn’t…stop Carl. He was a teenager. Rick hadn’t, but by the time they were Carl’s age, Shane had already lost his virginity the previous summer, and Rick had had to listen to that story for days, and days, and days, wondering when his own time would come, masturbating secretly in his room under the bed covers, fantasizing about it.

Good lord, where was Carl masturbating?

In the bathroom? Rick had never given any real thought to it.

Was his son also sneaking away to masturbate like how Amanda and Rick were doing to have sex? Or was he sneaking away to make out with Clarice like the teenagers had already done?

His son was truly becoming a man. Rick had to be understanding, give him the birds and bees talk like a dutiful parent. If they went to the third base and took off their underwear, things might spiral to sex before they could even understand what was happening.

The idea was so scary, Carl knocking up a teenager like himself accidentally, that a shiver passed along his spine, remembering Amanda’s words. Boys around Carl’s age knocked up girls countless times even before the turn. Rick had seen it many, many times, and now?

In their lives?

Rick jerked his head a little, shooing the thought away from his mind. He didn’t need to think on it. No. He counted the group and adjusted his rifle’s sling over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Unlike inside the walls, when they went out, they were armed to the teeth. Rick had a semi-automatic rifle the military had stashed in the armory. It was unfortunately one of the weapons Carol and Joan couldn’t have clipped away with without it being noticed. He also had his Colt Python in his holster, with his hunting knife and a small pocket knife on his duty belt that he never went anywhere without these days.

Even in sleep, Rick slid a blade under his pillow. The only time he didn’t have one were the times he was stripped naked with Amanda.

Adjacent to Fairfax County in the southwest parts of the city of Alexandria, the way to Dream of Alexandria was by a side road that led to the main artery for I-495. The side road was the usual simple two-lane asphalt country road. The yellow road markings had dimmed from two years of negligence, caked with dirt and blood, hardened with harsh weather conditions. The asphalt was full of small potholes and cracks much the same way, wild dried grass claiming through the cracks over here and there.

The intersection that they were going to blockade was a branch of the side road, the closest access avenue for Alexandria to the west, where Rick wanted to control with a checkpoint. In town, there were also radios and batteries that had been left by the military. The outside patrols would be much easier with a means of communication, even though they should be careful with the rechargeable batteries.

The biggest challenge was the equipment they found and used was always the maintenance. Once any equipment broke or crashed, there was always a good probability that they wouldn’t get it to work again. Alexandria was suffering from the lack of people capable of maintaining the equipment. Rick knew the old politician dreamed of the days she could raise her numbers on her board up to one with the addition of one.

Eugene had gone directly into her priority list, much likewise Abraham with his quirky knowledge with…stuff. Rick wondered if the woman wanted to lose the man, if she would want to risk him in such a mission.

Deanna still hadn’t said a word about Abraham’s mission, was biding her time until her other supply team returned.

Rick didn’t mind.

Aiden’s team stood watch as the rest of them closed the intersection with trucks and cars much like Woodbury’s walls. They added tires to reinforce the blockade. The road was fairly quiet, too, with only a few lone walkers disturbing them. The side to the east was lined with a few trees that the woods had spawned out from that side while the other side had a few shops that had been already looted.

One of them used to be a farmer's store which reminded Rick again about seeds and other necessities for planting before he heard snarls and growls from the tree line. Aiden and Nicholas quickly moved to check it out as Rick eyed them.

He’d never seen them on the job before, so Rick just watched as they closed in on the walkers, a swagger in their steps. The rest of their teammates were following them: Jeff, the man Daryl almost knocked out was a few steps behind as another man whose name Rick couldn’t remember walked beside him.

Four people against only two slow decaying walkers was extreme, but Rick didn’t interrupt. Still, it took them long enough. They dawdled around them for a while until Aiden finished with the killing stroke.

Rick furrowed his eyebrows as Nicholas laughed at something Aiden said, kicking the corpse with his boots. Jeff let out another laugh. Rick wondered what the hell was that funny about killing the dead.

Aiden and his team started coming back as another walker suddenly lunged from the other side of the cars, closest to the car. Rick raised his rifle, wrapping the sling across his wrist, but Carl had already drawn his blade.

Letting his son deal with it for practice, Rick stood by. Carl made a half swing, twisting his torso as Rick had shown him, raising the blade up over his head before he plunged it into the brain. It was a move Rick had observed from Michonne countless times before, and Carl dealt it with a finesse as sleek as her blows. Rick felt a surge of pride for his son as he kept his stance before he freed his blade from the walker.

Carl shook the blood off of the steel, turning to look at him. With a gentle look, Rick nodded. “Very good, Carl—” Rick obliged his son’s unspoken inquiry. “It was close to Michonne’s strikes.”

Sheathing the blade after cleaning it with a piece of cloth from his pocket, Carl asked, “Really?”

“Yeah—”

“Where did you find that blade, boy?” Aiden Monroe suddenly asked beside them, leaning over the roof of the car beside them, stepping over the dead body on the ground. The relaxed expression was still on the man’s face as he regarded Carl with a smirking smile.

“It was my friend’s,” Carl answered briskly as Rick shot at the man a terse look.

Aiden ignored it, instead jerking his head towards his teammates. “Nicholas says you can take down two walkers with it at once with one stroke—” he remarked.

Nicholas joined them, too. “And Aiden says you can even take three,” the brunette man went on. “Wanna try?”

“It’s not a game—” Rick bit off as Carl stared at them.

“No—” Aiden countered and threw him a smirk. “It’s a bet.”

Rick fixated him with another glare but didn’t dignify it with an answer. He turned away from the men, a clear message—and a clear warning, but the man looked like he was missing it.

“Lighten up, man—” the older Monroe shot, followed with low-pitched laughter. “You’re so tense. Wanna me fix you a drink tonight?” Aiden stared at Rick with a mocking grin. “We’re rounding up for a poker night. You’re welcome to join us.”

The words stoked his anger further, as Rick knew what they meant or who exactly Aiden truly meant to fix a drink for, but keeping his cool, Rick only sent the man another stern glare, bodily bypassing him to walk to the other side without a reply.

 Daryl jumped to his side from the little mountain of the tires they had piled up, holding his crossbow up against his shoulder.

“Hey, are we done?” Rick asked the hunter.

“Yeah—” Daryl replied with a brief nod. “Stacked ‘em up good. Can take cover.”

“We can bring a few metal plates, too—” Rick mused out loud.

He received another loop of the head from the hunter. “Yeah.”

“Let’s move out—” Rick turned aside. “Carl, with me—” he ordered as Daryl took point. Aiden and his men took up the middle with a few other men they’d brought from the construction team, Abraham tagging along with them as Rick took their six with Carl.

As Carl walked beside him silently, Rick slowed down their pace a notch, putting a few feet of distance between them and the rest of their group. He wondered how to breach the topic. Saying ‘son, you need to make sure you stay safe if you end up having sex’ sounded so farfetched Rick couldn’t imagine himself uttering the words.

Rick didn’t worry about STDs but controlling yourself was hard. Even Rick had problems at the first time he and Amanda had sex in the woods without condoms, barely containing himself not to come inside Amanda. It wasn’t only because he was having sex the first time in months. The turmoil of their feelings had increased every sensation he had as Rick felt her naked around him, but Carl at his first time?

No. It was too risky.

But as the thought entered his mind, the way Rick had felt followed it, too, his mind twirling back to it. He wondered if Amanda would ever let him touch her like that again if they somehow couldn’t find any more condoms. The thought stirred him in his jeans as his cocked hardened, twitching, remembering the sensation.

“Dad—” Carl called out to him, interrupting his musings that were turning very carnal. “Are you sure we can’t go back to the prison?”

His steps almost halted at hearing the question, something cold smothering the lustful heat in him. “Carl—” he started, but his son cut him off again.

“I don’t understand why we can’t even try, Dad!” he pressed angrily.

“I already explained—” Rick answered. “It’s too far away—"

“Not too far for Mom’s only photo.”

“Swarming with walkers.”

“We could at least see it!”

Rick shot his son a look. The anger Carl felt, he understood, he really did, but they couldn’t look back and risk being left behind. They couldn’t.

“Michonne risked it—” Carl suddenly remarked in a cold voice, staring ahead, adjusting the woman’s katana over his shoulder, his fingers gripping it in a white-knuckled hold. “I dropped it in the pub after I found the photo. It was swarmed by walkers, but she went and got it back—” he hissed, his voice accusing. “Because she cared.”

Without another word, Carl left him, taking point with Daryl.

His jaw set into a grimace, Rick followed them.

# # #

Well past noon Amanda had started sweating like a pig inside her leather jacket. Climbing out of the trench she’d been digging, she rested herself along with the shovel and took a break. A few steps away from her, Beth stopped as well and offered her water.

Amanda took it gladly and turned the can bottoms up. It was oddly just the right temperature in the military issue canteen, not too warm, not too cold to hurt her throat, but chilled enough to cool her down. It was a chilly October afternoon, sun wanly up under the clouds, but the hard labor had melted her like summer heat.

Even so, she didn’t take off her jacket, since after getting sweaty she could get cold with sweat and chill, never a good combination.

There were only two of them now working in the field, with the half of the construction team working on the wall and the other out with Rick and Aiden at the roadblock. Maybe Amanda should take a break and wait until they could loan her a small squadron from the construction team like they had been doing for the last two days, but she didn’t want to sit idly around.

Whenever her body didn’t work, her mind started doing work in its stead. Her muscles were still strained, having spasms, but Amanda didn’t care. With how much she tired herself during the day, sleep was coming easier to her at night, feeling the fatigue, between her legs aching and sore. Instead of asking herself what they were doing after she returned from the garage, Amanda would always prefer that.

She would care…later.

Besides, Beth seemed to like to stay busy as much as Amanda did, so this was also for Beth.

Funny enough in three days, Amanda and Rick had developed a routine, sort of. Their last two days had started and finished in the same way, with hot quickies fucking like bunnies in the garage, just like this morning, and Amanda was sure today was going to end in the same way, too.

They’d even fixed a date tonight.

The thought almost brought out a scoff from inside her, that their dating had succumbed to this, but Amanda guessed she had no one other than herself to blame this time. During the day, they fucked whenever they could manage to, twice yesterday, but so far it’d been only once today.

She wondered if Rick would sneak her away after coming back from outside, and she was oddly excited for it, too, even though a part of her advised…caution. As soon as they started touching each other, Amanda stopped caring. She wasn’t an idiot, and she was aware that they’d started using sex as a means to escape from their issues, but Rick didn’t look like he was complaining.

No. Rick looked like he was quite enjoying his fuck-fest days.

Last night he’d even started fingering around her ass, easing off her. For a moment or so, Amanda had thought he was going to do it, plunge his finger inside completely, and her body straining like a bow, she froze, her mind drawing a blank even through her lustful blur and haziness.

Amanda didn’t like sex that way. It never felt good; felt too vulnerable, too…compromised, letting a man have you like that. Despite how much she used to be into casual sex, it was something she’d never bothered herself with, stopping the men when they wanted to try it. The thought of doing it with Rick was almost terrifying, but then his hand crept up front from behind her back, and he started fingering her clit instead, and Amanda forgot anything else.

On the other hand, her condom box was almost empty. Just a couple more quickies and they were going to be out, and Amanda had started getting worried. What would they do when there were no more condoms? Continue to have sex without protection, going skin-to-skin again? Somehow it sounded to her even more terrifying than Rick fucking her ass.

Joan. She needed to talk with Joan. The town must have supplies. The military left sanitary supplies with guns, food, and meds, like female hygiene products. Birth control packages must be there, too. Birth control pills wouldn’t work anymore with two years passed since the turn, but condoms still worked.

Giving the canteen back to Beth, she studied the teenager. Beth’s condom was still in Amanda’s pocket, since she still hadn’t given it to Beth. Each day she told herself she was going to do it, but something always came up. She wasn’t neglecting her duty, nope. It was just she couldn’t find…time.

There was a snickering voice inside her mind that reminded her that she’d found time to get fucked four times yesterday, but Amanda silenced it grumpily.

Four times.

Good lord.

Amanda had never fucked that much in all her life before in one day, and the soreness between her legs had become a constant for her. She wondered if she could get groin rash from this much…coupling in three days.

That would be quite poetic, she guessed.

Getting in heat so much, too much that they managed to hurt each other in the end.

The sudden thought caused her a hitched breath, and Amanda wondered briefly if she was hurting Rick.

As much as he looked like he was enjoying it, the feral way he fucked her, sometimes Amanda couldn’t be sure. It was a part of him. That violent, savage beast that could do anything to protect his family was also fucking her as fiercely as he fought for them, but that side of him only truly manifested when someone tried to hurt him or people he cared for.

Was Amanda making him feel like this? Threatened? Hurt?

The questions turned in her mind, but she couldn’t decide on the answer. He was so angry with her in Deanna’s garage before Beth’s screams had interrupted them. They’d been stretched out so thin after their disastrous first date, Amanda feared they snapped.

Beth’s fight had set them back at their beginning point, and they’d just rolled on with it afterward. Perhaps it was really the best to leave it to go with the flow—that was what Rick always used to tell her in the woods, right? Don’t force us; don’t break our flow.

Well, she was quite riding the tides now, and the flow seemed to want them to fuck like bunnies. Perhaps they really needed to get it out of their systems before they could settle down. They had denied their attraction for each other for so long. It was understandable to have bumps along the road.

All would be settled in time. They just needed…time.

Her eyes shifted over to Beth with the last thought, and when she saw the teenager’s eyes focused on their far-left side, Amanda followed her gaze towards the community center and spotted the Reese sisters leaving the compound.

The center was far away from the training field, but it was still close enough to catch the sister’s expressive sports attire. Beatrice must have dragged Clarice along to the gym once more just like yesterday morning, much like how Amanda had been doing with Beth. She’d met with Beth in front of the community center after leaving Rick in the garage following their morning quicky, and they met the sisters inside the gym. They were in the Pilates studio, Beatrice helping Clarice on the reform as Amanda and Beth padded to the boxing studio.

None of them spoke before going about their own business in the separate rooms, but when the other woman was going to the locker rooms, Amanda saw Beatrice halting for a few seconds at seeing them twisting up in the swing. There was a wistful expression over her face for a second, before it vanished when the younger woman picked up Amanda’s shifting gaze.

Without a word, Beatrice marched to the locker room.

The sisters weren’t the only company they had, either, before their workout finished. Aiden and Nicholas came to the boxing studio, too. Amanda cut the workout shorter than she anticipated, seeing their falsely guileless expressions as she started trying rather…interesting sequences in the swing. She sent Beth away, but stayed for a boxing exercise herself.

She had to get better. Amanda was determined on it. Aiden and Nicholas went up in the ring for a fight as she stayed in front of the heavy bag. Her eyes darted towards them enough to understand that Aiden had also been training Nicholas.

Amanda supposed it was good. Perhaps he could even help with her class. She was going to need help. There were too many people to train for only one person. Too many of them. It was a good thing, Amanda told herself again.

Beth’s expression was glum while she regarded the sisters. Today the sisters had gone later, so perhaps Beatrice didn’t want another encounter with them in the gym, rearranging their time slots. It was a move Amanda had thought about, too, but she couldn’t have done it with Rick leaving with the rest of the construction team early in the morning.

She—uh—she didn’t want to miss her morning quickie.

Perhaps it was a bit pathetic, but the sex was rather good. She wished Rick really would manage to sneak away today before the night. Night seemed so far away, hours away. She’d missed him.

Growling inwardly, Amanda almost tore her hair out!

Dammit, they fucked like what? Five hours ago? Six? She couldn’t be in heat this much! Yet that distinctive tug between her legs deep inside her definitely was there, throbbing more and more with each hour passed away from him. And she was wet. God, she was already soaking wet again.

Forcing herself to settle down and focus on the matter at hand, she turned to Beth again. “Beth, Carl and Clarice?” she asked the teenager. “They wouldn’t be a problem for you, right?”

That was another thing Amanda was worried over. Beth seemed—jealous. As jealous as Carl had been when he learned when Beth had sneaked away with Ron from the party, storming off up the staircase.

Beth’s head snapped toward her at hearing the words. “Is there a Carl and Beatrice now?” she asked, almost in a rasp.

“Uh—” Amanda replied, realizing that what she had been fearing might be very well in their future, a teenage love triangle—square. “You said they made it to second base.”

“They just made out.”

“And you kissed Ron.”

Beth shrugged.

“But if they decide to be more…” Amanda pressed on further, her eyes squinted on Beth’s now. “Would it be okay for you?” she asked again.

For a while, Beth studied her openly, returning her gaze before she let out a sigh, resting on her shovel the way Amanda did. “I don’t know.” She paused. “I didn’t like it.”

Hearing the words made Amanda almost sighed. “I understand. Do you want to talk about it?”    

Beth shook her head.

“Do you like Ron?” Amanda asked then, changing the topic from Carl as she realized there was so much confusion over there that Beth wasn’t ready to face yet. Amanda didn’t blame her.

Moreover, she also started to feel the familiar helplessness again, as if she was failing the teenager again. She should have an answer or a solution, something to make it right for her. But as she stood there, the only thing Amanda could do was to tell her that she understood. It didn’t sound right. She should do more. Maggie—Maggie would’ve done more.

“He’s not bad—” Beth answered her inquiry. “He’s trying. Gave me flowers yesterday.”

Amanda smiled.

“But I think he’s in love with Clarice,” Beth continued.

Ah. Well, Amanda was really afraid of that, too. This time, she sighed audibly.

“Do you know they were friends from before?” Beth suddenly remarked as Amanda’s head whipped over to her.

“Huh?”

“Yeah. They’ve known each other since kindergarten. Family friends. Ron said Beatrice even dated his father once.”

“Ah. Yeah. Rick mentioned it.”

Beth gave her a look as Amanda recalled Jessie’s fidgety personality, her anxiety, and somehow it made sense. Amanda couldn’t even imagine how it would be living with your husband’s ex two houses down, especially if that ex was a woman like Beatrice Reese. She could barely deal with Rick’s dead wife. Having the woman living next to her?

A shudder passed over her with the thought.

“Would it be okay for you?” Beth asked out of the blue as Amanda tried to process the question. “Would you…support it if I date Ron?”

The Greene girls thing.

Beth was asking her approval like she would have done to Maggie because they were sisters. A pang pierced in her chest and almost made her cry, made her want to hug the girl fiercely. Made her want to protect her little sister against all the world, against everything.

Her eyes prickling, Amanda tried to give her a smile. “He doesn’t look like a bad kid—” she forced out low in her throat, her voice catching. “He’s very handsome, too.”

Blonde silky hair, fair skin, and nice hazel eyes, Ron Anderson had gotten his father’s good looks. He had the air of a prickly rich boy, just like his father, but Amanda didn’t want to say that to Beth now.

Instead, she tucked her hand in her pocket and fished out the condom. She reached out her hand to Beth. “Here, take it. It’s time you start carrying it—” she finally remarked. “You have to be prepared.”

Beth first looked at the shiny package, then up at Amanda. “It’s only one—” she said after a while.

Amanda burst into laughter. “Yeah, I know. This is more like…just in case.” She paused. “I’m gonna ask Joan if there are more in the infirmary’s supplies.”

Beth’s eyebrow arched as she took the condom from her and slipped it inside her pocket. “Finishing off your package now?”

Her cheeks flushing, Amanda felt the heat. “Um—yeah—” she mumbled. “Either way, we’re going on a run in a few days. We can look around, too.”

“Let’s go back to the house and take a break—” Beth suggested after a second. “Carol is going to pick up Mika from school. We can take her and Judy to the park.”

Amanda nodded. They made progress today. And she had still more than an hour left until her shift at the gate started. She could take a shower first and play with the kids for a bit before she checked in. She sunk the shovel in the dirt so it stood upright and almost started heading toward the house, but stopped as soon as she saw Rick approaching the training field.

He'd returned, coming to look for her…her heartbeat quickening, Amanda turned to Beth. “Uh—” she muttered, the tug in her throbbing incredibly deep in her now. “You go. I’ll come later.

Beth gave her a knowing smirk but left without a word. Amanda wondered where the closest place was now—they’d gone yesterday to the maintenance room, and it seemed to her the best option, too. It was closer than the community center.

When Rick got nearer, Amanda saw his dour expression. His jaw was squared in his usual tense way, his lips strained with a grimace, and the lines across his eyes deepened with his pinched brows.

Ah.

Amanda wondered what had happened to cause this sullenness as he didn’t look angry, not really, just upset. Irritated.

But then again, he’d gone out with Aiden and his team, and Amanda had concluded after her first mission with those men that they could get...vexing.

“Hey, is everything okay?” she asked, somehow feeling odd Rick hadn’t already started dragging her away like he’d been doing whenever they been alone in the last three days.

He gave her a terse jerk of the head. “Yeah.”

“Aiden and his team?” Amanda asked, “They can get…very annoying.”

He shrugged. “They were just plain stupid. If they keep this up, they’re going to get themselves killed.”

Amanda nodded. Stupid gets you killed. Michonne was right on that. Rick walked on in her, closing their distance with two quick marching steps. “How long do you have?” he asked, rasping to her ear.

Her stomach made another flip flop as her depths tugged. “Uh—” she mouthed out in her dry throat. “More than an hour, but I promised Beth I’m gonna take Judith and Mika to the park with her after I shower.”

 His heated eyes found hers. “Locker rooms have showers, too—” he countered. “And they’re always empty.”

She swallowed, her head turning as Rick took her hand. “Let’s go.”

Silently, they trotted over to the community center and headed directly towards the locker rooms. While they passed in front of the boxing studio, Rick caught the glimpse of swing she’d set up and stopped in his tracks. His eyes heating even more, turning to frosted glass with lust, he turned to her. “Did you set it up?”

Amanda gave him a brief nod. “Yeah. After—”

He cut her off, backing her in the studio, his lips already on hers. “Let’s do it there—” he whispered to her, moving his lips over to the baseline of her jaw.

The thought blurred everything in her mind, her yoga swing turning into…a sex swing, Rick fucking her suspended in the air. She’d never done that before. Shivering with the thought, the thrill of anticipation coursed through her.

“You wanted to work out more, eh?” Rick went on, still advancing into the studio, his hands already unbuckling her belt.

Losing it, Amanda attacked his duty belt, as she hastened her pace to retreat into the studio. It was a fairly private studio, tucked in a corner, with the only windows up too high in the wall for anyone to see inside. Rick kicked the door closed with his booted foot and locked the door behind him, securing them inside as Amanda freed him from his duty belt.

They tore off each other’s clothes in record time, their underwear slipped off with their pants and kicked off their boots. Grasping her hand after Amanda handed him one of their last condoms, Rick dragged her quickly in front of the swing.

He was fully aroused, his penis erect as he stood stark naked, gazing at her heavily. “Do it.” He ordered firmly, his hand leaving hers to go to his cock, and he gripped himself. “I want to see it.”

 Her head still turning with a lustful haze, she gripped the swing’s sides. She couldn’t think anything—she’d passed beyond caring. Wrapping her wrists over the sides, she pulled herself up, and raising one leg, she followed a quick flow she’d practiced countless times before, twisting herself in an infinity seat suspended in the air, the swing between her inner thighs.

It increased the ache already there in her sore inner thighs, the elastic band dangerously close to the naked folds, but she couldn’t focus on it, because all of her attention was on Rick as he slowly stroked himself, gazing at her naked form as she held the sides of the swings and arched back as she swung in the air idly with the momentum.

Holding his gaze, she flipped backward in a full turn in the position, just to give him…a show.

Rick’s reaction was even wilder than she’d thought it would be. He grabbed her, lunging forward in a heartbeat, and stabilized her in the air. “How long can you hold up?”

“How long can you hold on?” she asked, raising her eyes on him again.

His hands moving to the swing’s sides, he pulled it up to him roughly. A hiss escaped from her with the harsh movement as she swung forward and thumped into him. “If you wait for me, you might regret it when we’re finished.”

She returned his challenge with a sweet smile, swinging back. “Promises, promises.”

Drawing her back to him, bending down, Rick only kissed her in answer.

When they started, it really felt like she was defying gravity in a sort of sex dream, Rick thrusting in her wildly as she bounced half in his arms, half suspended in the air.

Then they started getting…really adventurous. She arched backward and touched on the floor, as Rick held her legs draped over his elbows, nearly splitting her in two as she hung in a half-bridge, and fucked her just like that in the air. She really didn’t know how long she would take it, how long she could hold herself…

It was so deep. He was going so deep, touching her deepest parts. He always seemed to find her secret places, places that Amanda didn’t even know exist before she knew him.

Sometimes it felt like she didn’t even exist before she knew him.

The thought was so overwhelming, flooding her as he stroked himself in and out of her, then his hand slowly moved under her, and he started playing with her ass again as he fucked her to oblivion.

He almost slipped inside, too, his thumb brushing across her hole, and Amanda didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything in the world. He could do whatever he wanted. Amanda didn’t care.

She wasn’t sure if he did, she wasn’t even sure what this was all about, why Rick had returned from outside like this, but he seemed to let it go again, riding on the tide like she did.

He drew her up back, their rhythm synchronizing as he peppered every inch of her upper body with lustful kisses, his hands stroking over her plains, the callousness of his palms, his fingers over her softness.

Amanda closed her eyes, overwhelmed with sensation, then Rick let her go completely in the air, still fucking her as she swung back and forth, and it really felt like a dream, in which she was both having sex and flying.

She was soaring up in the heights, and with each thrust, with each move, they were climbing up to a peak together. It was a weird experience, too, riding to orgasm together with her partner for the first time all in her life. Her rhythm never used to run along with them. She never cared, either. She just cared about her own release, reaching out to it. The others were just…bodies.

Not like Rick. They’d been always close, following each other quickly in their climaxes, but they didn’t come together.

Rick gathered her back up in his arms, folding her in his embrace, and started jerking his hips with quirky motions, rapid, too fast, too fucking fast, but somehow also just at the right place, and she was screaming. She’d been screaming for a while, she knew, she couldn’t care about that as well.

Neither Rick. He didn’t even try to cover her mouth this time, just continued to fuck her, not disrupting their rhythm. Her eyes hazily found his, but Amanda couldn’t tear them away this time, as if she was under a spell, as she stared at him.

With his perspiration-wet locks plastered along his forehead, and his face strained so much with his building orgasm, he again looked like that savage beast in the woods; the man she loved truly—completely, wholly; the good, the bad, the ugly. Every inch of him.

She loved him. Every part of him. “Rick—uh—” she forced out with a rasping low voice between his rough thrusts, calling to him. “To—ahh—t-to—” she muttered a few seconds later before she groaned out, their eyes still fixated on each other.

“W-we do…it...ahh—” she tried it another time with another long loud moan, trembling. “T-together.”

She was trembling down to her toes more than just because of the exertion. His grip tightened around her in return, giving her another deep stroke. “Together—” he rasped over her shoulder, so hoarse, so husky.

“Wait for me—” he grated out when she began constricting, her body straining in the swing, the word echoing in her.

Wait—Wait—

She bent her legs, forcing herself with the last ounce of strength left to her to clench him tightening her inner thighs as she constricted another time.

“Fuck—” Rick loudly groaned, his hips stuttering. “Yeah—yeah—yeah—”

He gathered her closer as they both started shuddering, their groans mixing together, and for the first time in her life, Amanda understood why people called an orgasm the little death.

 After a while, a long while that Amanda couldn’t be certain how long, Rick was looking at her again. “Ya okay?”

Amanda realized it was the second time he’d asked her.  She gave a loose loop of her head. It was funny how he always ended up asking her that.

“Uh, let’s get ya outta there—” he murmured throatily, his voice still so hoarse, so husky. His sweat-covered skin was glistening wet, and his dark locks still plastered against his forehead.

Amanda wanted to kiss him so terribly. So very terribly.

She made a little push and did it. He clutched the swing’s sides, stopping her before she swung back with the momentum, and ventured to kiss her thoroughly.

She didn’t know how, but he managed to untangle her from the swing somehow and lay them down on the floor. When she was on her back, Rick half rolled on top of her and kissed her again. They were kissing slowly now, not with that mad zest.

He drew up an inch from her to gaze into her eyes, then his eyes moved down and found his necklace, the one Amanda had never stopped wearing since the day he’d clipped it around her neck. He gently traced the tiny snowflake with his fingertips. His eyes raised up at hers a second later, his fingers still tracing the pendant over her collarbone.

“It was me—” he told her in that hoarse whisper. “If you’re wondering…it was me who ate the pancakes.”

Her chest swelling with emotions, a burst of low laughter erupted out of her. She hadn’t known, not really, and it felt good to hear his admission. She bobbed her head, her hand creeping over his arm, making a soft trail. “I made ‘em for you.”

He gave her a small smile. “They were very good.”

By now, they should have already gotten to their feet and started putting on their clothes and dashing off, but they both stayed motionless. Amanda didn’t want to move. She’d missed this, this closeness, laying down together.

“I gave the condom to Beth—” she sputtered after a while, the feeling finding her again, the desire to share. They weren’t only fucking. They did other stuff, too. “Did you? Did you talk to Carl?”

Rick shook his head, his face quickly closing off, returning to his haggard expression from earlier. He drew back and sat on his knees. “No.”

“What happened, Rick?” Amanda asked, straightening up as well.

The question haunted him. Rick was silent for a second before he spoke. “Carl still wants us to go back to the prison. Wants us to try.”

Understanding lighting in her eyes, Amanda looked at him sympathetically. She realized what this was about now. “Rick, we can’t—” she said slowly, but he cut her off, his eyes lit with a different fire now.

“I know that!” he clipped, his voice rising, as he stood up. “But Carl thinks I don’t want to go because I don’t care anymore.”

Rick didn’t say the rest of it, but nevertheless, Amanda understood as well. Because of them. Carl thought Rick didn’t care because Rick and Amanda were together now.

“My son thinks that I don’t care that my daughter will never know what her mother looks like anymore!” Rick bit off angrily, turning away from her and picking up his jeans.

The words pierced her as Rick put on his pants, and not only because she was partly responsible for Carl’s feelings. Amanda didn’t know for a long time what her mother looked like either. She’d wanted to know—wanted to see for herself when she’d decided to look for her parents. Even though she couldn’t have found her mother in the end, or her father, at least she’d seen her mother. Her photo. Amanda kept it hidden in a drawer for years. She’d never known her father, and she knew what that meant, too.

She felt for the little baby girl, as much as she felt for Carl, but that was the world for you, even before the turn. It wasn’t fair. Never had been.

She walked to Rick and wrapped her arms over his waist from behind, resting herself on his back. “He doesn’t mean it, Rick,” she told him quietly. “Carl knows you care. We—” She halted, pausing for a breath. “It’s just sometimes we say things we don’t mean to.”

His head twisting aside, Rick gazed at her with a piercing look. “Why?” he asked. “Why do you do that?”

For a moment it felt like they were talking about more than Carl. Do you honestly think of me like that? His question in Deanna’s garage echoed, and Amanda couldn’t find an answer in her.

She shrugged, still pressed on his back. “I don’t know. We just do.”

He regarded her closely again, not moving an inch in her embrace, but a second later turned back. “We should go—” he replied, a bit less stiff, but his tone still had a strain, as if it hadn’t been them having an orgasm together moments ago. “You’re gonna be late.”

Taking a step back, Amanda nodded. “Yeah—” she said. “You go first.”

She guessed she needed to take a shower back in the house alone. Done with his shirt, circling his duty belt around his hips again, Rick nodded silently.

Then he left before Amanda even started buckling her belt. Thoughts were sprawling in a whirlwind in her mind again, but she didn’t want to think on them anymore.

Why do you do that?

Carl must know how much Rick cared for him and Judith. Rick’s children were his everything, the reason why he was alive. Sometimes she feared what would happen—if he—he lost them… the thought was so bleak, Amanda didn’t even dare to think on it. Rick could do anything for them, anything. Carl had seen it.

Yet he still told his father that. Accused him of not caring. Just like Amanda had done. Accusing him of something even when she knew he wasn’t doing it.

Why the hell were they doing this stuff?

Were they trying to pick a fight?

Why?

Why would she try to pick a fight with him? She didn’t want to fight with Rick! She was so tired of fighting.

Finishing up with her clothes, Amanda left the sports center, the questions still left unanswered in her.

Notes:

Hey there, too sleepy to make a proper an author note, but all these 'not caring' and 'saying things you don't mean' are inspired by the talk between Rick and Shane about the fight Rick and Lori had before Rick got shot: 'Sometimes I wonder if you care about us anymore.' I wanted Carl to make a projection to that moment, which is gonna come up later, too.

Until the next time, ciaociao.

Chapter 16: 'Caution advised: Escalation'

Summary:

When things start escalating, his desires and needs start manifesting in the ways Rick isn't prepared. Amanda can't help herself but wants to see more of it. Beth, in the meanwhile, wonders about death and living...

Notes:

Chapter's title is very much meant for, guys.
Caution advised. Things are escalating...

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The blowup Rick had been waiting for came from an unexpected place.

Though, perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised. And he had to be honest, he preferred it to happen now and get the drama over with. The redhead woman in front of him sent Rick a pissed look and repeated. “No, sheriff. You can’t dig up my flower garden!” she fumed, shaking her head furiously. “You can’t.”

Rick could and was going to, and was about to tell the woman the same before Glenn interrupted calmly. “Ma’am, we need to use all of the backyards for planting foods. You can still have a part of the yard for flowers.”

“We have food!” the redhead countered with the same fire, leveling her look towards the small team Rick had gathered up from the construction team members. “We don’t need to grow food.” She eyed one of the men. “Dennis, please, tell me. Do we really need to do this?”

The man gave Rick a questioning look, which only made Rick’s jaw square. He wondered in which world these people had been really living on. “Glenn—” He turned to his partner. They were both still in civil clothes, as Rick still hadn’t worn the uniform Deanna had given him. “Please, escort Mrs. Jackson inside the house—” he ordered firmly.

Rick didn’t want to deal with this. It was the first house they were going to begin demolishing the flowerbeds, but the trouble had already started.

Glenn made a move on the porch to direct the redhead inside, but the woman pulled back from his touch, shrieking— “Get out!” she screamed at them, pushing Glenn away.

Rick made a move to stop the aggressive woman, but she pushed him, too. “You’re doing this because I’m a single mom, right?” she yelled as both Rick and Glenn stared at her, stumbling down the porch’s steps. “You’re as bad as Dave!”

Brows furrowing hearing the name, Rick wondered why the hell everyone kept accusing him of stuff he wasn’t doing! He tried to hang onto his temper, but it was getting harder and harder. He could take shit from Carl, from Amanda, but not from these people.

Rick hadn’t seen Amanda this morning. Last night they didn’t have another quickie before his shift, either. They just sat down after she came back from her own shift in the evening and watched another movie Mika wanted to see in the living room with the others. They still shared the same couch, but Rick didn’t put his arm up over the headrest this time as he stared at the screen without processing it.

He didn’t even know what had exactly happened yesterday, but it seemed their lustful, frenzied days might be over. He didn’t even understand what was happening, what she really did…what she meant with those words.

Perhaps those were their true feelings that even they weren’t aware of, but their anger let them sputter words out.

Sometimes I wonder if you ever care about us at all anymore… Lori’s words from that fight before he got shot still haunted him sometimes, the way he’d felt that morning, thinking if she had really meant it. Rick hadn’t even slept a wink last night, kept staring at the ceiling, words from Lori, from Carl, from Amanda turning in his mind in a loop.

In the morning, Rick left for his morning patrol earlier, around the dawn, avoiding another encounter. He saw Amanda with Beth an hour later, but instead of going to the community center like they’d been doing for the last few days, Amanda led the teenage girl to the track to go running.

Rick let them deal with the training field later, keeping his distance as he took Glenn and rounded up a team to deal with the flowerbeds.

It was high time they dealt with this, started planting before the weather got even colder. But the screaming woman in front of him just couldn’t see that Rick was trying. Much like everyone else, it seemed.

“Glenn, get her inside—” he ordered stiffly, turning around, even though the woman was still screeching.

A small audience had started gathering, too, out on the porches, hearing the clamor. “Everyone! Back in the houses!” Rick yelled over the woman’s cries.

The redhead was sobbing loudly, sinking to her knees on the porch and hiding her face behind her hands. Rick really started worrying after that. She looked like she was having a complete breakdown over flowerbeds. He took a step up on the porch, but suddenly Deanna’s voice cut over the cries.

“Denise—” the old woman spoke clearly with her best authoritative voice. “Take Lauren inside, please—” she ordered as Denise moved quickly and started drawing the crying woman to her feet.

Deanna turned to the gathered folk. “We’ve decided with Rick to turn the gardens into planting fields. We’re going to discuss and decide what kind of food we’re going to plant, but for now, Rick and others need to prepare the ground to put in. Please, go inside your houses and do not interfere.”

One by one, as if Deanna spoke magical words, they all started going inside. She turned to Glenn and Rick. “You should’ve waited until I made a proper announcement first, gentlemen,” she clipped.

Annoyance permeated her voice, but Rick just shrugged. The fields needed to be prepared, and he needed it done yesterday. “We’ve talked about it before.”

“There’s a way we do things here, Rick,” she reminded him with a serious expression and added as a clear warning, “Do not forget.”

His jaw squaring, Rick only gave her a cool look in return.

Deanna walked closer to him. “Lauren was one of the women Dave took advantage of. One of the first, and I’m afraid the consent was very dubious there,” she explained slowly. “She’d lost her husband and stayed with her little boy out there before Aaron found her. She’s still in therapy with Denise, and Denise makes her tend her flowers as a part of her therapy.”

She paused for a second as Rick looked at the woman heavily, the words reaching to him, feeling sorry for the woman, feeling bad for his behavior, too. “And I would’ve told you about it if you came to me this morning before you started doing it.”

This time, Rick gave Deanna a nod in acceptance. “We should leave hers then?”

Deanna looked like she was considering it thoroughly before she shook her head. “No. Everyone gets the same treatment. I don’t want any conflict because of this. When things get tense, people start to get jealous over even the simplest things—” she commented. “Besides, Lauren has to pull it back together. Learn to let it go.” Her brows furrowed, giving Rick a thoughtful look. “I’m afraid she’s found being a…victim much too convenient.”

Ah. Rick nodded again as Deanna surveyed the area. “How are you going to do this?” the old woman questioned. “A few people among us know about gardening, but not much.”

“I know a bit of farming—” Rick replied as Deanna regarded him curiously. “Beth’s father was a farmer. He taught me stuff. We’d started growing our own food in the prison.” The woman had already learned where they used to be living.

“That’s good,” she countered. “So you can teach us, too.”

“I plan to do square foot gardening as we don’t have much space. We need as many plants as possible.”

“What’s that?”

“What it sounds like. We’ll divide the space into squares to assist in planning the rows. We can cover up more delicate plants and herbs easier that way instead of closing down the whole garden in the winter if it’s necessary. We can plant seeds and seedlings depending on the type, too, herbs and root vegetables don’t require much space, whereas some veggies like cabbages need a lot more.”

Deanna gave a nod, looking more satisfied. “I thought you were just going to make us plant potatoes.”

It actually made Rick smile. “I thought of that too, but we need to increase diversity for our nutrition. But potatoes are one of the easier veggies to plant and harvest, so we’re gonna plant them more intensively than others. Just in case.” He pointed the backside of Alexandria towards the maintenance building and Amanda’s field. “We’ll dig trenches in the backyards or beside the training field and grow them there. If we can stock them up, we can be prepared in case of a food shortage.”

“We can use the basements,” Deanna answered.

Rick nodded again. “We can start expansions from there, too, expand the wall out and start cutting trees for additional fields.”

“Yeah. That’s Reg’s plan too.” Rick knew. He’d seen the plans. “What do you need?”

“The greenhouse has basic tools and fertilizer. They would be enough for now, but we need seeds,” Rick replied quickly as he’d been thinking on it. “I saw an organic market out yesterday when we got out to block the road. I’m gonna check—”

Shaking her head, Deanna stopped him. “There’s no need. You just plan and prepare the fields. Deal with any acting out townspeople. Aiden and his team are going out on a run this weekend. I will ask them to look for the store, too.”

“I’m gonna go with them—” Rick countered. He needed to check the seeds because he couldn’t trust Aiden and his team with this. The thought soured his expression as Deanna shook her head again at him, causing him to frown.

“Rick, we already had this talk. Twice. Delegation of power. Have you ever heard of it?” the old woman asked with a smile. “You need to learn how to delegate.”

Glenn made a sound beside him but kept his usual silence. Rick frowned further, opened his mouth—

“Besides, Officer Shepherd is going with them—” Rick shut it closed, staring at the woman. “She asked Aiden last week. They’re going together. She can babysit them if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Rick still stared. Last week? She’d asked Aiden last week and hadn’t told him a damn thing since then. Nothing. Not a word.  Anger started rising in him as his jaw clenched.

“Rick?” Deanna asked suspiciously, reading his reaction and eying him critically. “You said it wasn’t going to be a problem,” the woman stated.

Rick jerked his head tersely in a nod. “No. It won’t—” he repeated, bending down to pick up one of the shovels and strode to the backyard without another word.

No, it wasn’t going to be a problem. Not at all. He stabbed the shovel into the earth under the flowers and started digging.

He had a lot of digging to do today ahead of him. The rest of them joined him a couple of minutes later with Deanna leaving after shooting him a studying look.

Rick kept his eyes trained on the ground and kept digging.

# # #

All of Alexandria was in upheaval.

Beth looked at the town with an amused smile, watching as everywhere people were digging. It was a funny moment, half of them working as the other half watched the scenes with perplexed looks. She even caught Beatrice’s lips quivering when Rick’s team had started uprooting her beautiful crown jewel flowers, breaking one of her statues in the meanwhile with a tripping foot.

The scene almost made Beth laugh. Almost.

Beside her, Carl saw her smile. Her…friend gave her a curious look, silently regarding her, but didn’t make any comment. Instead of helping his father, Carl had opted to come with her and Amanda this morning to the training field and started working with them.

Amanda was as silent as Carl, and Beth was sure there had been no sneaking away this morning for Rick and Amanda. Beth wasn’t an idiot. None of them were. Even though no one brought it up, they all knew how Rick and Amanda sneaked away at every possibility then returned after a while, always separately, adorning rumpled, post-sex looks, pretending as if they weren’t fucking.

It was a funny vaudeville, which Beth had no idea why they tried to keep up. Amanda used to always advise them to keep up appearances, creating a frame and sticking to it to a tee, but it seemed to Beth that Amanda wasn’t taking her own advice this time.

Amanda was slipping away. It was a curious thing, too, almost…romantic, and Beth was happy for her only remaining sister, but since this morning Amanda had grown distant again.

So had Rick.

Half of an hour later, Amanda left them for the watch, and Beth stayed alone with Carl. They hadn’t stayed alone a lot since that disastrous dinner party. Clarice was usually with Carl. Beth even had heard that Carl tried to take Clarice out with him yesterday for the road blockade, but Rick didn’t let him. Clarice was with her big sister now, watching her fingers disinterestedly as Beatrice knelt in front of the ceramic mini sculptures and started tidying up the shattered pieces.

Beth turned to Carl. “I heard you tried to take Clarice out yesterday.”

Carl shrugged with one shoulder, digging his shovel in the trench he’d been preparing at Amanda’s instruction. “She wanted to come.”

“It’s about time she sees a walker—” Beth mused out, nodding.

“Yeah.”

Beth watched her friend digging and not raising to her bait, his head bowed as he worked. He’d taken off his hat. It stood a few feet away from his feet at the end of the row. Beth imagined they were digging now to put up an obstacle later. She’d seen the plans Amanda had sketched. If Amanda got her wishes, Beth suspected they were going to jump and duck and roll and crawl a lot in this field. A lot. Beth had even seen a mud trap over a section written in red, and she was particularly curious about that one.

Beth walked over to Carl, and bending down, she took his hat and put it on her head, just like Rick had done on the first day when he and Carl had started working on their fields in the prison.

“Now this brings back memories—” she smiled at her friend as Carl lifted his head and looked at her.

“We’re not working in the field—” Carl jerked at his head towards his father and the rest of them that were uprooting the flowers since this morning. Beth suspected that was going to take a while as well.

“No. We are—” she replied, though, waving her hand over the training field. “Only not for food.”

Carl nodded, disinterested. The gesture reminded her of Clarice. “Did you fight with Rick yesterday?” she asked, her voice turning snappish.

“Yeah—” Carl admitted with a shrug.

“Why?” Beth pressed further. “Because he didn’t let you take Clarice?”

Carl stopped, drew up, and shot her an icy, annoyed look. “No. Because he still doesn’t want to go to the prison—” he replied with a frigid tone as something turned icy in her, too. “Or have you forgotten about that?”

Her jaw set with a grimace. “No. I haven’t forgotten.”

“Good.”

That shut her up, and Beth turned to the apple trees that were lined along with the short masonry just beside their field under Alexandria’s tall steel walls. Her thumb started rubbing inside her palm again. It was itching.

Something was itching in her skin, under her skin, and Beth didn’t know what it was. Sometimes she had this crazy idea, to cut it and look under the skin and see what lay beneath. Flesh, bones, or something more?

Did they have a soul somewhere underneath that skin mask they wore? A piece of them—walkers didn’t have them, so where would it go? Where Maggie’s soul had gone?

Was it there to begin with?

Beth wanted to see… Once upon a time, there was a girl, but perhaps—perhaps—she didn’t die. Perhaps there was a story somewhere out there in which she lived on. Forever and a day.

Like her father had taught them. Beth still wanted to believe that.

She took a fallen branch from under a tree and started drawing up a circle, a snake eating its own tail. “I want them back—” she muttered, staring at her circle. But she couldn’t be sure what she wanted back. Her father’s Bible, Maggie’s bracelets, or them.

“I know.” She heard Carl reply as she still stared at her ouroboros. “Beth, was it you?”

She raised her head and looked at her friend. But Carl wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Beatrice who was still picking up her broken statue pieces.

Carl turned back to her. “Did you break Beatrice’s sculptures when we went there to play pool?”

She regarded him coolly, a challenge entering in her, a fire lighting. She threw away the branch and tipped the front of the hat. “What if I did?” she shot back.

What if Beth did break some ugly ass statue or attack a girl who had called her a nutcase. She was getting tired of playing the good girl. The good didn’t last long in this world.

“Are you gonna sell me out?” she seethed out, staring at him. It was a low move, but Beth didn’t fucking care.

“You know I won’t—” Carl answered. “But why did you do it?”

She shrugged. “Maybe I just wanted to break something.”

Everything was in ruins. And there was this thing inside—sometimes—to break…everything—to cut up and see.

“Beth—” Carl said.

“Did you do it?” she asked suddenly, words slipping out of her. “Have you had sex with Clarice?” she asked because she was damn curious, and she wasn’t…liking it.

Carl gave her a look at the sudden change of topic but nevertheless answered. “No.” He paused for a second before he asked, “You?”

Beth shook her head. “No.” She gazed down at her circle. “You know he was right,” she went on. “It’d be rather sad if we die as virgins.”

Carl laughed at that silently. “Yeah.”

The heavy moment broken, Beth lifted her head again and looked at her friend. “Amanda gave me a condom. Just in case. Did Rick give you one, too?”

This time, Carl frowned. “No. He didn’t.”

Beth laughed again. “Probably chickened out. Amanda will ask Joan for more. I’ll cover you when I get more.”

“Thank you.”

Waking closer to him, Beth bumped her shoulder on his. “Don’t mention it. What friends are for?”

# # #

Rick returned to the house when the gloom of approaching evening put a stop to the digging until the next morning. They had managed to cover almost a quarter of the job, which was honestly more than what he had been expecting, but it looked like when the townspeople saw Deanna backing him up, they settled down.

Deanna had an odd power with the townspeople, her words listened to obediently. No. That wasn’t only obedience. Rick’s orders were listened to, most of the time, but there was never that kind of unquestionable belief in his people’s eyes in the way the townspeople looked at the old woman.

There was almost sort of religious belief in it as if Deanna would have all the answers for this new world that they’d found themselves in and would carry them out, like a beacon from the old days before the turmoil. A pillar of the old world. That was the power of home, of returning to the old days, which Deanna played on, but it left the people without understanding that they could never go back again to the old days.

That world was gone now.

This was the real world. The world they lived in.

The quicker these people accepted this, the better it would be for all of them.

Going up to the bedroom for a quick shower, his back hurting for the back-breaking work he’d done all day, Rick hopped into the shower and stood under the jet of hot water motionlessly, letting sweat and dirt, without blood for a change, rinse off his body.

His semi arousal was still there, his cock half hard. He’d been this way all day, too, between irritation and semi arousal, his body aching for the release he’d become quickly accustomed to for the last few days, wanting Amanda, his annoyance also inciting desire in him in an uncanny way.

Yet, Rick hadn’t given in to the temptation. At least not until now. He kept himself away from her for the whole day, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He gripped his cock, imagining her delicate, yet strong, fingers, half calloused with the years of handling guns. Her touch, though, wasn’t as calloused as his own fingers, softer, smoother even when she tightened her fingers around him and gave him a pull just in the way Rick liked.

He stroked himself under the water, imagining it was her doing it, imagining her beside him in the shower. His eyes closed as Rick placed a hand against the tiles, bowing his head, his other hand still stroking himself. Behind his closed eyelids, Amanda was here with him.

Rick was kissing her open-mouthed under the waterfall, tongues battling, lips clashing, as Amanda stroked him between her hands, making pressure just at the right spot, making him groan into her mouth. She set him aflame, aching to be inside her—to feel her clenching around him—but—but the other way. His hand playing over her ass flashed under his closed eyes, his thumb inching into her for a split second as Rick rubbed the pad over her hole—

He flipped her against the ceramic tiles, pushed her against the shower’s wall on her stomach, and started stroking her ass. That tight round firm ass Rick had admired since that night in the prison when he saw her washing her uniform on her hands and knees, her wet body dappled with glistening water drops, a sheet wrapped around her.

Suddenly Rick was in the laundry room again, and she was there, swinging back and forth in the moonlight as Rick watched her, stuck in place, unable to move, unable to tear his eyes away as she was bent over in front of him, her ass stuck up in the air toward him.

God.

Rick wanted to be inside it, wanted to feel that tightness around his cock; he so desperately wanted it. This time, he slowly strode over to her and knelt beside her. Amanda didn’t react, even when she sensed him, only kept washing her uniform and slanting a look at him.

Rick reached out and touched at her ass under the sheet, stroking her firm flesh under his callous palm, his fingers squeezing. Amanda stopped scrubbing her uniform, hands soapy and all, and turned her head aside and looked at him wantonly.

It was as clear an invitation as he could imagine, and Rick took it gladly. He gently, slowly plunged his thumb inside her ass, rubbing it around her hole as Amanda moaned, bowing her head between her arms.

His other hand rubbed across her thighs, sliding between her legs, and started stroking her clit. He made his ministrations at the same, both her clit and her asshole as Amanda started whimpering, moving with the rhythm of his hands as Rick kept her on the edge.

No, he wanted her there—as needy as possible, begging for him, begging him to fuck her just like that. Rick wanted to hear it. She was whimpering his name with deep moans, a chorus of Ricks on her lips, the best song he had ever heard.

But it wasn’t still enough. He wanted more.

He had to show her. There was nowhere else to go, no need to run. He wanted—he wanted her to accept this. Accept them. Let him in.

Not hide from him. Deanna words echoed in darkness—Amanda is going with Aiden—

That bloody man!

Anger blazed at his edges, something firing in him worse and worse. She couldn’t go anywhere! She couldn’t leave him! She belonged with him. At his side. Always.

Rick caught her around the waist and drew her up to her feet along with him, yanking the knot she’d made of the sheet, dropping it beside her feet. The next second, twisting her back, he bent her down over the massive washing machine on her stomach.

The desire and fury running wild in his veins, he caught her right leg under her knee and placed it up on the top of the machine, splitting her legs wide. He bent over her, his fingers finding her ass again. “I wanna do it—” he whispered to her hoarsely. “I want you like this.”

“Rick—” she moaned, resting her upper body and the side of her face beside her leg, opening herself even further for him.

“Say you want me—” he replied. “No one but me.”

“No one but you—” she obliged quickly, trembling before Rick drove the tip of his cock into her ass with a shallow thrust.

“Rick—” she panted out a low groan thickly, still trembling with effort but accepting him just as Rick wanted when he thrust an inch more, holding her tightly at her waist, not letting go. She was going to see. With every inch.

He wanted to do it with her. Do this to her. Have her completely. She belonged with him. He slowly thrust another inch. “I got you—” he whispered to her. “I got you, baby.”

“Rick—”

“I got you.”

He sheathed himself completely, Amanda taking him fully with another hoarse deep groan. Then Rick started moving. In and out, fucking her ass, god, it was so good, so tight. She was open to him all way down, surrendering to him in every way. He reached out and claimed her clit too. He was going to drive her mad, make her feel him as badly as he did her.

His hand worked on her with a rhythm as wild and merciless as his cock that pounded in her ass. Her hands shot up to hold one of the shelves above her head for support as Rick drove her back and forth over the machine, her groans and the scratching sound of the machine made over the tiles as it moved with each thrust Rick did was the sweetest music to his ears.

He fucked her, as savage as he could get under the moonlight, threading over a razor-sharp edge, but it was missing something. He needed something. Something was missing him, his stomach was coiling, twisting with each maddening thrust he did, but it still wasn’t enough. He missed something. Something profound, something primal…demanding...

Rick bent over her further, sucking the side of her neck as his eyes caught a glimpse of hers, and then Rick knew. He closed his eyes, licked her pulse first then bit her. His arms tightened, his hips jerking against her ass, shuddered—coming—

His eyes shot open in the shower as he shuddered, jerking off into his hand underwater, his other hand tightening on the tiles as he came violently.

Rick stared down below at the shower base as his semen washed off between his legs with the flow of the water, his heart pounding in his chest, his blood drumming in his ears. His body was still jerking with aftereffects of his orgasm, but he didn’t feel satiated, not at all.

He grabbed the faucet and turned the water to the coldest setting, as cold as he could handle, and stayed under the chilly water until his skin turned blue until his shivers became due to the cold.

Turning off the water, he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Inside the bedroom, he was alone. The rest of them were still downstairs preparing dinner. Rick felt cool air against his wet skin, the goosebumps on his skin standing up further after the hot, vapory bathroom. He was still trembling.

But silence and cold were good, cooling him off some more. He turned his mind away from his fantasy, the way he jerked off, imagining Amanda like that. It—it was just a fantasy, a dream.

Every man had fantasies. He’d been having this thing for so long, wondering…The last week had just topped on it. It would pass out. In time. It would. It didn’t mean anything.

His mouth felt so dry, his throat scratching. Rick wanted water, but he didn’t want to see anyone. Not right now. Not until he pulled himself back together. He had to give himself time, so he went to the closet. He eyed a pair of his jeans and his brown shirt before he saw the uniform Deanna had given him.

He ran fingers along with the shirt and pants, feeling the sturdy cloth under his fingers. Jerking his hand away, Rick took his jeans and his shirt before closing the closet.

# # #

When the moon was up in the sky, Beth took the place at the back deck of the other house, much like Amanda and Rick used its garage, but not for carnal purposes, but to be alone.

Sometimes it really became too much, too many people, too much heat, too much nonsense. The outside was cool, and beautiful, as beautiful as Amanda always tried to tell her.

There’s still beauty, so long as you look for it.

On nights like this, Beth could almost believe.

Her palm itched again, and she rubbed it, tracing her fingers over her scars, first over her palm, then over her wrist. She opened her palm and stared at them, almost curiously, then the unsettled thing found her again.

Tonight—Beth felt…more curious than ever, or more…desperate. She couldn’t decide. She wanted to see. She just wanted to see.

Her other hand went to her pocket, and she took out the small pocketknife Amanda had given her and unfolded it. On her palm, she propped the tip of the blade against the scar the nail had left behind, and slowly, gently, she drew a tiny circle, her fingers getting warm and wet with blood as she made the scar into a snake’s head.

There, her own tattoo, in her own way.

Folding the blade back closed, Beth looked at her palm—looked to see…

But there was nothing, nothing but blood.

It hurt, but she didn’t mind the pain. She was full of pain up to her mouth, too. Pain and death.

Sighing tiredly, she reached out to her scrap of cloth, not red this time, but a black one—and wrapped it around her palm.

Beth knew now at least. There was nothing underneath.

She walked back to their house. Out on the porch, she saw Amanda and Rick, and they looked equally as distraught as her. They stopped talking when they saw her. Beth wondered for a second if they were still fighting, but it was a funny question to wonder about these days.

Amanda gazed at her closely, then frowned seeing her hand. “What happened to your hand?” she asked quickly, her tone worried like always since that day in the woods.

Beth shrugged. “I cut it.”

And it wasn’t even a lie she told.

# # #

All in honesty, Amanda didn’t expect to see Rick in the house when she’d returned from her shift. They’d carefully kept themselves apart from each other the whole day, so it was a little shock to see him lingering around.

She’d been half expecting him to pull another midnight shift after they spent the day playing hide and seek with each other, but oddly enough, he stayed in the house, well, out on the porch.

He was resting against the railings at his usual post, staring at the darkness with his eyes squinted. His shoulder hunched against the fur of his jacket, too, and his expression was so forlorn, so distraught Amanda halted in her steps for a second.

She almost asked what was wrong, but held back, recalling they weren’t in a talking phase right now again. Amanda had thought the way they were in the prison and the woods had been because of the circumstances, but in hindsight, perhaps she’d read the circumstances wrong. Rick was as bad as her with relationships.

The way he always used to say his relationship with his wife was complicated suddenly made perfect sense as Amanda remembered their fight in the barn. Rick really did things on his own time, at his own convenience, and Amanda was really getting tired of it, too. Perhaps she’d started this by not bringing a condom to their date, preparing herself a getaway to escape, then accusing him with those words, but Rick was damn good with holding a grudge, refusing to eat her pancakes the first time she did it, refusing to talk to her when she asked him.

She gave him a brief nod, jerking her head quickly, and he returned the gesture in the same way before Amanda entered inside.

The rest of the night passed like that, too. Rick stayed out while Amanda sat beside Beth and Joan on the couch, stroking Cinnamon absently, her mind taking in what was happening as she forced it not to drift away.

Turning her head, she surveyed the living room. Mika tried to decide what to watch for tonight. It’d become their group activity. Amanda liked this routine, all of them together in the living room with kids, the baby tabby curled up in her lap. It was almost how families should have been. She made sure to arrange her shifts as much as she could during the day to let herself enjoy the night with her people, sitting peacefully.

Usually, it was him on the couch sitting beside her, not Joan. They usually sat slightly apart from each other as Rick cuddled Judith on his lap, but his arm resting along the headrest still made her feel better, but Amanda tried not to think about that.

On the couch, Joan suddenly shifted towards her as she watched Mika, but Amanda saw her eyes drifting as much as hers. “I’ve got an idea for our backyard,” her friend remarked in a whispered voice. “I’m going to turn it into a garden with pharmaceutical herbs and plants.”

Half surprised, Amanda looked at the nurse. “I found a book in the infirmary,” Joan continued. “I think we can look for them in the woods, then try to tame them here. I talked to Daryl. He’s gonna help me.”

“That’s good.” It also would give Joan a good reason to be out in the woods, and the smirking smile Joan threw her back told exactly that.

“Deanna actually beamed when she heard about it,” Joan countered. “I think Rick got into her head with his plans for planting. She looked rather impressed.”

“Yeah.” Amanda bobbed her head along, gently brushing her fingers over the baby tabby’s back. “I can see that.” She tossed a look at the woman again. “So Daryl said okay?”

Joan shrugged. “Said we could try. He isn’t sure if we could find much this late in the year but said it’s worth a try.” She laughed faintly. “More likely, he said he got nothing else to do.”

Amanda made a little sound. “Daryl is a jack of all trades,” she quipped.

“Yeah—” Joan replied. “He isn’t like the other men I know.” Amanda narrowed her eyes at the remark. Joan darted a look at her too, turning to look at Mika and Carl as they tried to sort out the movies. Judith was with them, too. “Carol told me that when we were in the armory. She said ‘he isn’t like the other men you’ve known.’”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Amanda whispered.

Joan shook her head. “I’ve got no idea. She tried to warn me, I think.” She paused for a little while. “Do you know Daryl found her in the prison when they were attacked? They were under attack, and everyone thought she was dead, but she was inside a storage room, passed out, and trapped by a disabled walker. Daryl figured it out.”

“Daryl can be very…heroic,” Amanda supplied slowly, not knowing what else to say to this.

“He looked for her little girl in the woods, too, when she got lost. They couldn’t find her.”

Amanda heard a name but never knew the exact story. Beth had said Carol’s daughter had gotten lost before they came to the farm and that they’d been looking for the girl in the woods. Sophia. “That’s sad.”

“Yeah—” Joan asserted before she slowly said, “I think perhaps he’s got a savior complex.”

That would seem to be the weirdest statement that had ever been made if one looked at Daryl Dixon solely on his rough exterior. There was a lot—a lot more beneath the surface. She looked at Joan again as the movie started on the TV.

Amanda recognized it. Home Alone. She almost started laughing. It was actually one of her favorite movies in her childhood. The old lady she had been with had even actually taped it on VHS so Amanda could watch it whenever she wanted. She was nine years old and no one had ever done something like that for her before.

She looked at the movie’s opening credits before twisting towards Joan. “Beth saw you two kissing in the backyard of the armory.”

“Now did she?” Amanda didn’t know what she was expecting, but Joan’s smile was surely a bit…unexpected before she shook her head. “No. We didn’t kiss. I just staged a scene when I saw people approaching. Didn’t understand at first it was just Beth and Ron.”

Amanda nodded, understanding. “So?”

“So?”

She almost let out a sigh. “Have you decided?”

“Yeah, I think I already did, Amanda…” Joan replied, rather cryptically before she admitted. “I want him.”

“So what are you waiting for?”

Her beautiful, silken dark curls swayed around her shoulders as Joan shrugged. “I don’t know. Courage?” 

Amanda softly giggled at that. She could damn well understand that. A part of her was still wanting to go out on the porch and confront Rick, but her courage was failing her, too. She had never been a…daring person to begin with. She always avoided conflict as much as possible, which was funny considering how her relationship with Rick had turned out.

“Denise came to the infirmary today—” Joan remarked when the opening credits of the movie finished. Joan was in training with Pete Anderson at the infirmary in the mornings, leaving the afternoons to the nurse’s own personal agenda. It was a good deal Rick had managed to broker in the end with Deanna.

“Asked about blood typing tests, if the doctor still has them—” Joan went on, and Amanda remembered Deanna’s dossier, the missing information about her blood type. It’d been on her mind but had slipped away. She was slipping away. The thought made her frown.

Thinking about the dossier made her cringe, but Rick also hadn’t asked about it yet. Too distracted with their personal issues, they were slipping on the wider ones. “They’re waiting for Rick tomorrow.”

Amanda nodded, understanding her friend passing the task of giving the notice to Rick to her. “Okay. I’ll tell him.”

In the middle of the movie, before the brazen little Macaulay Culkin started giving Joe Pesci hell, Beth left the house, announcing she had to talk about something with Sasha in the next house. Amanda barely stopped herself from asking Beth what it was about, but restrained herself, giving the teenager personal space.

Carl slanted Beth a suspicious look, but stayed with Mika and Judith, the same way Amanda did. When the movie finished, Amanda left her baby tabby on the floor and went into the kitchen. She prepared two cups of lemon balm tea with a generous amount of honey before she stepped out onto the porch.

It was cold outside, chilly, and Rick needed a bit of soothing, she guessed. It wasn’t only a social call, she told herself. Amanda had a task to do now, and they could use some diversion tactics, if somehow they happened to have a…she didn’t know, talk?

“Hey—” She stopped beside him at the railings and offered one of the cups to him. “It’s very cold tonight.”

Rick nodded absently at her attempt at small talk, taking her offering with a silent thank you.

Amanda got down to business. She’d never been much for small talk, either. 

“Joan said Denise came to check the infirmary for blood typing tests. They’re waiting for you and Judith tomorrow,” she informed him. “I saw her type was empty in your file. It’s best we learn it.” She paused. “Just in case.”

Rick took a sip from the mug. “They told me we could do it in my interview.” Amanda bobbed her head silently. He shifted his eyes toward her. “My file…What’s it got? You didn’t say anything.”

She shrugged, letting the veiled comment pass. “Yeah. Slipped my mind, I guess.” In return, Rick eyed her coolly over the rim of his cup. “Well, you’re a FP-W.”

His brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know—” Amanda admitted with another shrug. “But I have an educated guess. She made a two-tier classification, two sections for each column. First for priority degrees, I think. FP. First Priority. The other determines the status. W—for warrior?” She gave him a questioning look. That was her best bet. “I saw C, too. Beatrice is FP-C. First priority…civilian.”

His jaw squared as he grimaced. “The kids?” he questioned.

“N/C. Underage. Not classified.”

He made a terse noise before he looked at her. “You?”

“SP-W—” she admitted. “Daryl and Sasha are the same. Joan is FP-C. Bob is SP-W. She’s gonna send him out as a medic with teams. Father Gabriel and the others are mainly SP-C.” One of SP-Cs was Carol too, and Deanna couldn’t get any more wrong about that.

But that was Carol’s game, too, cocooning herself possibly with the lowest rank, playing on their prejudice. Most of the time, people didn’t bother to look deeper if you gave them what they expected to see, and what they expected to see when they looked at Carol was a kind, motherly housewife whose group had pulled her weight so far.

Carol played that role to a T, keeping up appearances, even down to that pink cardigan she chose herself for her first day here. In another life, the woman would’ve made a damn good con artist.

Before he could question further, Beth suddenly appeared from the other side of the narrow cobblestone pathway between their houses. Amanda saw her hand wrapped. She narrowed her eyes, eyeing it as Beth stepped on the porch.

“What happened to your hand?” she asked, still looking at the hand. It was the same hand that bore her scar.

“I cut it.”

The way Beth answered made Amanda frown, but Beth walked inside before Amanda could say anything else. She and Rick stayed silent at first before he returned to the subject of Deanna’s files, his eyes turning inquiring. “What else does it got?”

Amanda cursed herself for snapping at him that his file didn’t have her name mentioned anywhere, a heat rising in her.

“Denise made a couple of observations. Footnotes,” she replied. The damn woman was scratching notes down in front of her the whole time during the interviews.

Amanda knew she had to give something now, since the cat was out of the bag, so to speak, but she didn’t know what to say. “Uh—they called you the pack leader—” she decided after a brief silence, recalling the title.

Rick made a sound, taking another sip from his tea.

“Family oriented—” she continued.

He cut her off, fixating a look at her. “Amanda, stop buttering me up. Get to the negatives.”

Well, she was trying to be…considerate. “Fine—” she snapped. “Skeptical, untrusting, trust issues bordering paranoia,” she intoned placidly as his frown grew tighter. “Aggressive body language—” she went on, flicking her gaze at his tensing shoulders. “Confrontational, but protective.”

Rick made another low sound. “And?” he probed further.

Amanda stayed silent.

He stared at her. “Don’t be shy, Amanda—” His voice was almost acerbically taunting now, sharp as a polished knife as his eyes turned sterner. “I know those files. I know there’s something.”

“Caution advised. Escalation.”

The words completely silenced him as Rick turned to look out at the town, leaving his mug on top of the railings. They both knew what that last word meant. Amanda recalled Joan’s worries, she remembered Gorman, she remembered her own worries, those men Deanna had wanted gone, all of the situations that had escalated beyond reach.

But Rick wasn’t that like that. He wasn’t. The violence was a part of him, but it didn’t define him. Rick knew the kindness more than he knew violence. She remembered the way he’d protected them under the moonlight, and how he’d knelt on the ground beside his children’s bed afterward, listening to their breathing, the way he looked that night. She made a move, her hand raising to his face to touch him the way Rick liked. To show him that he wasn’t like those men. But before she could, Rick took a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her.

She lowered her gaze down to it. “What’s this?”

“The list of the seeds we need for the gardens,” Rick answered with a clipped tone. “Deanna told me today you’re going with Aiden and his team on a supply run this weekend.”

Amanda held back a sigh, almost closing her eyes.

Was that why he was giving her the cold shoulder now? Because she was going on a supply run? Or because she hadn’t told him? She wasn’t hiding it. How could she? He was going to learn it sooner or later. She couldn’t hide it. It—it had just…slipped her mind.

How convenient, that pesky snickering smirking voice laughed inwardly. Amanda was becoming very annoyed with that bitchy voice in her head. She took the paper and slipped it inside her pocket.

“I’m taking Beth, too—” she told him, deeming it as a safe topic, steering the topic from them. “She needs to be out. Have a bit of fresh air.”

“Be careful. Deanna’s right. She’s not well. And Aiden—” His lips thinned as he uttered the name. “They’re all in over their heads.”

For that, Amanda could only nod in agreement. “I know. I’ll handle it. Don’t worry.”

Rick jerked his head into a terse nod but didn’t say anything else. There was still that thing in her that wanted him to get confrontational, wanted him to demand why she hadn’t told him, wanted him to get annoyed, angry with her, and it was absurd. She didn’t want to fight with him.

She’d missed him all day. She wanted them to go inside and watch a movie in the living room together, wanted to feel his arm along the back of the couch as Amanda stroked her kitten. They hadn’t done it tonight, and she'd missed it. But it was damn embarrassing telling him that, and everyone had already retreated to their rooms, the faint glimmers of lights of the living room were out, the windows dark. So, thinking about it a second, Amanda did what she missed the second most, which was easier.

She took a step closer, placing herself into his personal space. His eyebrows furrowing more as he grimaced, Rick quickly noticed her move, but stayed put, turning to her. His face looked strained as he held the railings with one hand, fingers gripping to it tightly, his knuckles turning paler as if he was holding himself back from her much like he’d been all day.

“I heard you made a lady cry today—” she chided, pressing herself against him, her fingers absently stroking a part of his collarbone that his shirt left exposed due to his unbuttoned collar.

The act usually would make him let out a low hiss of breath, but Rick still stayed silent as he only gazed solemnly at her. His restrained stillness incited something further in her, a bit curious, a bit daring, wanting to push his buttons. Amanda had never been a daring person, but sometimes exceptions had to be made.

Taking another step, she slithered her other hand up over his ass and squeezed. “Wanna make another one scream?”

They were in the garage in record time after that, her pants unzipped and his hand half inside her panties even before he opened the locked door. Rick tore off her clothes quickly, propping her against the wall, his head dipped, his lips already devouring her mouth, his hands roaming all over her body.

God, she wanted them to fuck like this. Just like this. He’d already kicked off his boots and jeans as Amanda wrapped her legs around his waist as Rick hoisted her up against the wall. His fingers found their way inside her even before he started peppering her neck and the base of her jaw with lingering, lustful kisses.

“I dreamed about this the whole day—” she groaned loudly, closing her eyes as his fingers picked up their rhythm. “The whole day.

“Why didn’t you come then?” he rasped out, tangling his other hand into her hair and jerking her head an inch away to stare at her again.

Amanda stared at him back as he added another finger. She bit her bottom lip with almost a little yelp. “Why didn’t you?”

“I asked first.”

“And I asked second.”

Rick chuckled, the tension on his face easing a little before he shook his head. “Sometimes I really wonder what I’m going to do with you, Amanda.”

She dug her heels into his ass with a little smirk. “Well, a few things come to mind right now.”

No quip came back from him this time. He only raised her further against the wall, and removing his fingers, he replaced them quickly with his cock.

 Amanda groaned, tightening her arms around his neck, the empty feeling inside her vaporizing as he filled her with the deep stroke. It was fucking absurd how much she missed the feeling since just last night, but she wasn’t going to stop and wonder about it.

Because Rick had started moving.

It wasn’t as crazily intense as the sex they had yesterday in the gym, but Amanda had really missed him. Rick was still keeping himself restrained, though, as if he was fighting with something—with himself? Not to lose it?

Amanda didn’t know, didn’t fucking care, either. Nope. She would care later.

Later. One day. God, she was going to start caring one day. She promised herself.

Just not right now. Not when Rick found her clit between their conjured lower bodies and started rubbing it. He was rather good at it, too. Fuck it! He was marvelously good at it.

Amanda started bucking against his hand, but she wanted more— “Oh, god, MORE!”

A second later, she understood she’d screamed out the last word as Rick lay down and made her mount him, offering her the reins.

Without question, Amanda took it. She picked up her rhythm, drawing back as Rick played with her clit with one hand as the other rubbed over her breasts while she rode him wildly before losing the strict self-control that he’d been holding on since the beginning of the night, finally giving in. He dragged her roughly onto his chest.

His hands were on her ass like clamps, holding her in position, and he started thrusting madly inside her. The veins at his temples protruded with exertion, perspiration wetting his dark locks, plastered them against his forehead, sweat running across his skin. Those keen blue eyes had turned to cut gemstones again, like sapphires. It was too much, the way he looked, almost again like a savage beast under the moonlight. It was too much, he was too much, but Amanda somehow couldn’t still hold herself back from looking at him.

Rick met her gaze and stared back at her. Her stupor breaking under the intensity of his glance, Amanda finally twisted her head up an inch as his fingers dug into her ass even further, leaving his fingertips printed on her skin. His grip was so tight that for a little while, she wasn’t even sure if he was doing it to hold her stable as he pounded into her mercilessly or for something else.

The answer was budding in her, though, like the ghostly feel of his thumb playing over her back entrance. But he still didn’t do it, just kept it around there, sometimes just rubbed it, or just fondling it, but then he did something… scraped his nails over her bare skin just right there.

Amanda bucked in response so wildly as a flare erupted in her like a wide column of fire she only saw in bombings. Rick was still thrusting, his nails scratching over her spread back folds as she mounted over him, bent down on his chest, and Amanda wanted him never to stop doing it, hell, she even wanted him to do…more.

The lustful thought almost scared her. Almost. She would be scared later, too.

They managed to sync themselves as Rick started hitting that spot inside her, his hands on her ass driving her mad, making her scream like she had demanded as she rode wildly to her climax. The sanest part of her that stayed still intact wondering if Rick truly broke his self-control, but still knowing he didn’t and wondering what would happen if he did—

God! She really wanted to push his boundaries, have that savage beast fuck her unleashed, no restriction left in him—

The thought did it for her.

She started contracting, clenching him tighter as Rick’s habitual low groans turned hoarser, to those husky groans that sent hot surges of pleasure into her throbbing, shuddering core.

Rick jerked his hips into her even faster as she started shuddering, her toes curling as her back arched over him, “Rick—I’m coming—”

“Yeah—” he groaned hoarsely, catching the nape of her neck and pulled her hair to crane her head back to stare at her eyes again. “Yeah, come—” He thrust her with another too-quick move— “Come for me.”

She screamed his name as her climax grasped her, her body frozen for a split second.

Then Amanda started shattering, her whole world was shattering...her foundations were shattering. She wasn’t able to stop it. God, she even didn’t want to stop it.

Notes:

All right, I warned you, hehe. Things are really about to explode.
I think all of them are ready now for the next chapters, as I set them on the places I needed. The next chapter Rick's gonna have to face with something that will really, really challenge him, and he's already struggling with...stuff. You know before I mentioned I was going to play with Rick's violent nature and his sexuality and this fantasy session in this chapter was done for this purpose. Nothing else but that moment in the bathroom of the prison would've worked like this. It was tricky scene, really, and I really struggled with it, too, but with the help of my beta, I like to think I managed it without picturing Rick like an asshole.
The sex-era of this story is going to finish soon, too, as I prepped them for the next stage, so if you're getting bored with all 'sex, sex, sex', know that things will get heated in the next chapters.

Beth's 'I cut it' was one of the scenes I really wanted to do for this story, possibly why I chose to go with her like this, too. It was a sad scene for me to write, but I still wouldn't want it any other way.

Chapter 17: 'Together'

Summary:

When Judith's blood test proves a fact that Rick has always believed deep down, but never admitted to himself aloud, he turns to Amanda to cope with it.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Rick left the bed at the first light of the morning, Carl and Judith still sleeping curled up around each other. Judith had made another fuss last night not to sleep in her crib, so exhausted beyond belief, Rick let the baby girl sleep between him and Carl.

He hopped into the shower, turning the water as cold as he could handle, carefully keeping his hands off himself. The morning hardness was with him, his body reacting to a new day, and despite his best efforts, the memories of last night found him, giving him another stir as he struggled not to touch himself. Motionless, Rick stood under the cold water.

He didn’t want the night to finish like that, engaging another wild bout with Amanda in the garage. He’d tried to keep himself away from her to cool down, but how he could’ve kept himself restrained when she’d asked him to make her scream while doing that?

Rick still tried though, tried to lay under her while she rode him as determinedly as she was at Grady telling him he couldn’t go to the Death Wing without her, she wouldn’t let him. Seeing her like that, the same fierceness Rick had always admired. The sight of her like that was a marvel in itself, a marvel that almost broke his resolves completely.

Rick still tried to hold on to his self-control even after that, his hands tightly gripping her ass as they rushed to their climax together. With the thought the way she came last night flashed over his tightly closed eyes, too, nimbly fitting into his curves as she shattered in his embrace, clenching her thighs as tightly as possible to keep him inside her like she always did before she climaxed, tipping Rick over the edge in the meantime.

As Rick shuddered with the memory, his body part in question hardened even with the chilly water, images assaulting him further.

Rick saw her just like that in his bed, laying over on her back this time as she came violently between the sheets in the morning, her body contracting with spams, her back arched up, clinging to him, her face strained with intense emotions. The image was so vivid, Rick almost felt the warmness of sunlight that glistened across her skin in the hazy room as she clenched her thighs tighter.

He closed his eyes, fisting his hand on the tiles not to grasp his cock, but tried to settle himself down instead, telling himself his children were sleeping now just in the same bed.

Rick still wanted that. Wanted her there. The night how they spent in his room, laying in each other’s arms in the same bed, then the way she woke up beside him in the morning, the way Rick made her cum in this very shower. He let out a groan, his mind jumping rapidly to that particular image, her clenching his face desperately between her thighs this time while Rick ate her up.

A fury finding him, Rick turned the faucet fully to the left, to the coldest, and let the icy water quench the lewd fire in him.

They didn’t only have passion and lust for each other to fuck each other’s brains out. They had more. Like how she came to him and gave him silent comfort that night in the woods, like how they made patrols, like how they just sat in each other’s embrace under a tree, enjoying each other’s company, those peaceful moments, the gentle, affectionate way her hand stroked his stomach under his shirt as she read a book curled up against his chest like a big satisfied cat.

They had those too. Last night she’d come to him again. Brought him tea, made an excuse for Judith’s blood typing test, then stayed, even made a move in her way. They had to slow down. They’d gone far ahead again…escalated.

Somehow Rick wasn’t surprised it was what was advised as caution.

Rick walked out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. Inside the room, gingerly walking not to wake Judy and Carl, Rick opened the closet, and his eyes found the uniform he’d left there again. Rick stared at it. A part of him wanted to wear it, wanted to retain a part of his old self, his old days, but he knew they could never go back.

His gaze turned to the bed, this time no carnal images in his mind, but only his children. He had to put things back together, find a balance, made Carl accept it, made Amanda settle down, made himself settle down.

His uniform. It didn’t belong to him anymore.

The truth saddened Rick as if he’d truly lost a side of him, perhaps his better side, his best side, but there was still no going back. This was the real life.

Rick took his jeans and his shirt, and changed into them, taking the uniform too. He knew to whom it belonged. Heading downstairs, Rick went to the den. The uniform wasn’t in Glenn’s past but his future.

The uniform belonged to Glenn if the man wanted it. Rick draped it at the door’s handle, letting it pool over the threshold. He went out on the porch, ready for his morning patrol. He took a deep breath in, letting the morning chill hit his skin.

He would just leave now. Usually, Amanda would already be out by now so they could sneak off for a morning quickie before going on their separate duties. This morning she was no sight.

Rick guessed she was hiding somewhere or waiting for him to leave as they had been in the last two days, but he also knew they couldn’t keep up this long. Last night had affected Amanda. Rick had sensed it, sensed her uncharacteristic lewd passion and lust.

I dreamed about this the whole day.

Amanda was a very passionate woman when she let herself lower her shield, but Rick wasn’t that blind not to see that she was having a hard time sharing that kind of intimacy with him. They had to slow down. Start that dating thing again. They’d screwed up but had to try again. Or else—or else—

No elses. There was no else. They were going to find a way. Rick refused to think about that else!

Don’t ask me that question again!

The moment in the barn came at him, just another moment she questioned their relationship, and the anger it brought on him. No. Rick still never wanted to hear that question from her ever again. His jaw set up, he turned and watched the still slumbering town. This was it, the place they would settle down, start living again. Together. We do what we have to do, then get to live. Together.

That part hadn’t changed yet.

Rick almost walked out and started looking for her, but much to his surprise, just at that moment, Amanda stepped out on the porch. Rick twisted aside to look at her, understanding she still hadn’t left the house. She hadn’t run away as Rick had thought she would have. No. Not only she didn’t run away, but she also came out on the porch like last night.   

The realization brought such a relief to him that the tightness around his lips loosened. She still looked fidgety though, her head bowed after sensing his gaze on her. She was clad in sports attire, yoga pants, and an oversized sweatshirt that barely covered her hips, leaving her ass in his open sight again. His eyes shifted toward her body part in question that Rick had apparently started having a fixation. He shook his head inwardly to get himself out of the gutter.

“Going to the run?” he asked, clearing his throat a bit before he spoke.

“Yeah—” she replied with a shrug. “Thought I would hit to the track until Beth joins me.” Usually, that part would come after their morning quickie, too, Beth joining her after they left the garage.

Not this morning. Today they were going to start how they used to before. He jerked his head at the town. “Come, let’s make a patrol.”

Just like in the old days, taking a tour together in the early morning, getting the feeling of things. Rick had missed it, too.

She gave him a look, her eyes widened for a fraction before she bobbed her head, her cheeks reddening. “Okay.”

How Rick missed seeing that coy, shy look too. The urge to take her in his embrace and started kissing her raised in him strongly, his cock started hardening aroused, but he stepped down in the driveway, steeling his mind.

They slowly started walking toward the intricate massive wall of steel beams and plates, keeping a dutifully arranged safety distance between them. Her hand wasn’t looped around his elbow like the first time they’d toured in the town at night as if they were taking a stroll, and Rick’s hands were tucked into his front pockets instead of taking hers.

Still, it was nice. They toured the town silently, checking the wall, checking the weak points Rick had determined before. He didn’t have to do this now as they had hourly patrols, but still, he did. The act itself made him feel more secure, seeing the walls still intact, no breach whatsoever. It was a routine, and it settled him down as much as routines did for Amanda.

He zipped his suede jacket up over to his collar, feeling the morning chill more, slanting a look at her last leather jacket’s fur-lined slit. He almost turned aside and zipped it, too, but kept his hands to himself.

His hand… His mind played with the idea of taking hers, walking into the town hand-to-hand like he’d wanted before they’d left Deanna’s garage, but he was tired. He didn’t sleep a wink last night, and he was still semi-hard in his jeans, his body responding to her closeness.

Amanda was mildly subdued, too, just walking beside him silently. It reminded Rick again the way she looked in his arms, that calm down, soothed catlike figure, lounging in his lap lazily, and the imagination hardened him further.

Rick closed his eyes, bowing his head, his fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose, letting out a tired low sigh.

“You okay?” Amanda asked, flicking him a look when she heard his sigh. But was he okay? Rick didn’t have any damn answer for that question anymore.

“Yeah—”

“Couldn’t sleep last night?”

“Yeah—” he mouthed out again, looking around. “I need to round up the construction team and start digging up flowerbeds again.” He needed to get to work. They shouldn’t lose the sunlight.

Amanda nodded absently as if she felt the same, but her eyes found him a second later. “Don’t forget to go to the infirmary,” she reminded him. “They’re waiting for you.”

“After the evening—” Rick confirmed.

Amanda nodded again with that absentminded way, looking more…agitated to leave. “Uh, see ya around—” she muttered as she turned aside to walk away like each time before they parted ways.

The rest of the day passed like that too, seeing each other around as Rick worked on the gardens with the construction team and Amanda worked on her own field with Carl. Beth, her hand cut, had excused herself for today, leaving Carl taking her place instead. Rick also read it as a good sign.

When the sun was set down, Rick went to the house, took another quick cold shower, washing off dirt and sweat, steeling his mind away from any carnal imaginary, and picking up Judith, he went to the infirmary.

Pete Anderson was waiting for him out on the porch, his expression looking pissed. “I don’t usually stay up here this long without an emergency,” the doctor greeted him coldly as soon as Rick stepped on the first step with Judith in his arms.

Rick frowned, but still tried to stay…civil. “We were working on the gardens. Didn’t want to lose the sunlight.”

The doctor’s eyes wandered across the town, the gardens holed up, dug like potholes. Alexandria didn’t look like the silent, eerily beautiful town anymore. It looked more like a construction site with tools and a half-done job laying around. Rick found it more adequate than that sinister calmness that always alerted him more.

“We liked those gardens—” Rick sensed a faint slur in the doctor’s tone and wondered if he’d been drinking again.

It was oddly funny how their two medically trained people had problems with alcohol. “You’re gonna like food more—” Rick shot back the same answer he’d given to Deanna before he walked inside the infirmary.

It was one of the houses that they turned into a makeshift clinic, using military equipment. Rick saw even a respirator, heart monitor machine, a surgery table which made him feel glad.

What had happened to Carl and Amanda still plagued his dreams sometimes and knowing that they had equipment at least here made him feel less…strained. “Come here—” the doctor led him over one of the exam sections that was divided with white curtains like in ER.

Inside the cubic, Rick sat on the bed with Judith in his arms as the doctor brought a test kit in a tray. As if understanding someone was going to poke her, Judith started crying too. His baby girl didn’t have the usual baby anxiety for hospitals, as she had never been in one, but his girl was smart. She understood something she wasn’t going to like would happen and react all the same as babies did. She cried.

Rather heavily.

When they’d made the vaccines that Amanda managed to sneak out from Grady, she’d cried for days as Amanda laid out in the next cell beside her, unconscious. Remembering those times made Rick feel anxious so he turned to Pete Anderson.

“Is it going to hurt?”

The man shook his head, showing a tiny needle. “No. Just a tiny poke to take a drop of her blood.”

He put a square glass on the tray too, taking it out of the kit with the needle, Rick holding Judith, he took the baby girl’s tiny, plump hand in his.

Judith gave out a loud cry as the needle pierced the tip of her tiny finger, Rick towing her at his chest tightly to calm her down as Pete turned and dropped the blood on the glass.

“There’s it, girlie, done. Let’s see what you’re—” he told Judy slowly, and for a moment or so, Rick felt the man might not be an asshole, as he’d first…classified.

He wondered what Deanna had classified the man as and made a note to ask Amanda if she’d checked it out. Rick hoped she had better.

The surgeon turned to Rick. “The last time we did it for little Sarah—” the man continued absently, dropping a solution over the glass. “The Johnsons took a bet to guess the type.” Rick almost sighed out. It looked like Alexandrians did love their bets and games. “What’s your type?”

“A positive—” Rick answered without a fuss, still trying to calm down Judith.

“Wife?”

“O positive—” Rick said again on automatic response as his baby let out another cry, reaching out to his hair to pull it. Judy usually played with Amanda’s hair in a soothing gesture, playfully, but she was tearing off Rick’s locks rather pissed now.

“Well, that’s an easy guess then—” the doctor commented with a light laugh as Rick tried to free his head from Judy’s tiny but tight grip. “A and O can only make A or O—” he further remarked as Rick tried to remember his biology class. “If one of you were B or AB—”

The man stopped in the middle of his sentence, turning to him. Rick placed down Judy. “What?”

Pete Anderson stared at him. “What?” Rick repeated.

“Uh—” the man breathed out. “She’s B Positive.” Rick started back at the man, Judy still crying softly on his knees, then bowed his head and looked at his baby girl.

His baby girl.

Memories ran wild in him as Rick stared—stared—stared—

No matter what, she’s yours.

I accept that.

She’s B Positive.

The words echoed in him in a loop… “I’ll leave you alone—” the doctor spoke under a haze of mist, his voice coming so distant, so far away.

My wife, my son, my unborn child—

Rick stood up and left the cubic before the man did.

Judith was B Positive. Shane was B Positive.

# # #

See ya around.

As she walked away, Amanda wondered if she could get even more pathetic balking away from him—from whatever that was going on between them, but she still didn’t feel ready to face it. And here she was always saying Amanda Shepherd hated undefined, unlabeled things in her life, blurred lines.

She guessed things couldn’t have gotten more blurred between Rick and herself even if she tried. Amanda had just laid beside Beth in the bed last night, and stared at the ceiling, acutely aware of the peculiar feeling behind her, a sort of twitching around her ass that she didn’t know how to express.

The feeling was still with her. It didn’t ache, not really, but it didn’t go either. It just felt…odd.

She shook her head, trying not to focus on it. Standing in daylight now, Amanda couldn’t even find a good reason why she’d done what she did last night, what had poked her that way to test Rick’s limits. God, squeezing his ass…asking him to make her scream?

Seriously what the hell was wrong with her?

She should go back and ask Rick again they could talk?

Last night she felt embarrassed, but this hide and seek game was making them no good, and only a fool kept doing the same thing, expecting different outcomes, Amanda reminded herself of the famous quote.

The problem was that the last time she’d tried that, the door was closed in her face, literally. Rick wasn’t an open book of sort of people, and Amanda wasn’t sure if she could deal with that kind of rejection now another time as she didn’t have any inkling how Rick might feel for a talk right now. He did things on his own damn time, and how the hell she was supposed to know that he was in the mood now? He’d told her he ate her damn pancakes days later when he felt like it.

Besides, did she really want to talk? Want to talk about what was happening?

And what the hell was happening anyway? Aside from fucking each other senseless.

Yet, she still hadn’t slipped away this morning. She stepped out on the porch, and he surprised her by asking her to make a patrol together, then they had that weird, tense tour as if they both didn’t know what to do with each other.

Perhaps that was the answer—perhaps they really didn’t know what to do with each other. Perhaps they were just trying too much to make it work. Perhaps they just needed…a break.

The thought broke her heart, but Amanda forced her mind to stay on her duties, chasing it away from her.

But it still stayed with her during the whole day, as she worked on the field with Carl, digging and shoveling, arranging the measurements for her bobby traps, telling herself perhaps it was really the best, giving Carl sideway looks as he worked beside her silently in the field.

It was with her too during her shift in the bell tower in the afternoon while the wind cracked up at her face, running her eyes away from him whenever their glances found each other. Somehow they always did, too, always found him

When she left the bell tower, as the sun setting down, Amanda caught a glimpse of him heading toward the infirmary, Judith in his arms, and bowed her head. The sight saddened her further, almost making her cry, and a lump sitting low in her throat.

Not wanting to return to the house yet, her feet carried her in the town aimlessly before she found herself around the pond. She walked towards the trees, feeling a bit of fresh air like in the woods around the semi-artificial pond.

Looking at the pond’s dark water, suddenly an urge to throw herself into the water raised strongly in her, let the cold water run over her body as she dived in the depths. Amanda remembered how the water felt when they cleaned themselves in the stream before Maggie’s funeral, staring at the open sky as she reemerged out of the water, sun glinting above her in the open sky.

There was no glinting sun right now, but the stars and moon had started reappearing too in the dusk, and Amanda wanted to see them too laying on her back over the surface, water around her. She wanted to feel it—feel…free.

Her feet started bringing her closer to the shore, her eyes fixated on the dark water. She was going to do it. It must be cold as hell, but Amanda didn’t care. She would care for that later, too.

Bending down, she almost started taking off her boots when she noticed it out of the corner of her eyes. Casting stone, her head half twisted aside, Amanda stared at the trunk of the tree beside her. It was a faint sight in the gloomy dusk, but she still recognized the symbol.

There was an ouroboros over the tree, just right at the same place how Beth had carved out one for Maggie’s grave. She quickly drew up and scurried to the tree. She ran her fingers over the circle on the tree bark, feeling the cracked texture and carving. She made a circle around the snake’s head.

She didn’t know what that meant, but she was sure not many people would go around at the end of the world, carving an infinity symbol over the trees.

It was Beth.

In her mind, the last night flashed… I cut it.

Amanda shook her head. No. No. No.

It was just a coincidence. Nothing more. They were dealing with hard labor every day now, and accidents happened. Her own hands had a lot of cuts and splints. It meant nothing.

She was fretting again. Beth seemed better after their last talk, and they were going out tomorrow. They both needed it. Amanda realized it quite clearly too, they both needed it. She had made the right call. She made a turn to go back to—

And stopped when she noticed the second carving on another tree beside the one that she was standing against. Amanda jogged the little distance between the trees, a part of her wishing her mind was playing on her a light trick in the gloom.

Her breath stopped short as she saw another ouroboros. Swallowing, Amanda started dashing around the trees, picking up more and more carvings on the trees as she swept the ground.

# # #

The truth was in him, always.

Rick had always known it even though he had never uttered it, had never talked about it, had never even thought about it, he always knew, a part of him always knew it deep down.

He’d come back from the city for only a couple weeks by then and Lori and he—well, they were still having sex before he got shot, but they weren’t on the best terms, and Lori was as wary as Rick not to bring a baby into the mess that their marriage had become.

Sometimes, Rick even suspected that Lori would’ve thrown in towel long before if they didn’t have Carl. No birth contraception was secure for one hundred percent, Rick knew that, it was a scare that he’d started having in the last days dealing with condoms. It was a thought Rick didn’t even want to let himself dwell on, Carl getting a girl pregnant, Amanda getting pregnant—

Rick quickly clenched down the thought, he couldn’t think about it. He just couldn’t. Nevertheless, Judy was his baby girl. Lori told him it was his, and Rick said he would accept it, and he had. He’d accepted it.

Then why he was feeling like this now?

What was he feeling now?

He didn’t know. He felt an emptiness inside him, an icy coldness he wasn’t sure what to do with. Rick never let himself think on Lori and Shane, too, something—that thing clawing at his edges just at the thought, and the hurt he felt when he realized what had happened even when he said he understood it.

Rick understood, or he thought he did, but the betrayal still hurt like something ripped off his chest and took his heart out, only leaving an empty bloody mess behind.

He told himself it didn’t change anything. Judy was his. Rick had two kids: a daughter and a son.

Carl.

A cold fear touched him even worse as if ghostly chilly fingers slipped inside his chest and squeezed his heart. Carl would never know about this. Would never learn about it.

Their memories. That was the only thing that left to his children now from their mother. Only memories. Rick couldn’t let them get tainted by the mess they’d created. Lori loved her children as fiercely as any mother would hope for, gave her life in the end for her daughter. Carl and Judith would never question her love for them. Rick couldn’t fail with this too.

He cared.

God, he cared so much, he wanted to take that damn blood test and make it disappear. He wished he'd never known. That it always stayed like something Rick believed deep down, but never knew for sure. Thinking that you knew something was entirely different than knowing it for a fact.

Why did it hurt so much?

He returned to the house, Judith still in his arms, wheezing softly. Carl met up with him on the porch, apparently waiting for them to return.

Seeing his son, Rick felt eternally grateful that he went to the infirmary alone, that the doctor was alone, that there was no one else. He wondered if Pete Anderson would cause problems, but he didn’t want to think about that right now.

He strode to Carl and passed Judith to him as Carl came to take his sister. “What’s it?” his son asked, looking at his sister in his embrace, still giving him cold shoulder. “A positive like us?”

“Yeah—” Rick muttered the lie, feeling the same icy coldness again.

“Good—” Carl replied, his expression softening, trying to joke. “If we get shot or something again, we’ve got another donor.”

Rick felt the cold fingers tightened further around his heart.

It was full dark now, the smells of the dinner coming out of the house. They were preparing for supper. His family. Preparing supper before they all sat down for a movie in the living room, safe and secure, just like Rick always wanted them to be. The lights extended out of the windows as the house filled with sounds, and smells, and warmness, the warmness of lights and cooking, like how homes should be.

Inside, Rick still felt cold.

Amanda appeared in the driveway a few moments later as Rick stared ahead in the dark. Her cheeks were flushed with the chill as if she’d been running, her half-ponytail had hair stuck out under her ears. Her face was solemn though, lost in thoughts.

Catching him on the porch at the railings, she stopped. “Hey—” she called out lowly, her eyes turning to him.

She must be as cold as him coming from open air, but Rick still sensed her warmness as hot waves of warmth hit him as she just stood beside him. On their own, his feet neared, getting to her closer, feeling her warmth. Rick felt so chilled.

Amanda raised her eyes at him, suddenly her brows knitting, looking at him. Rick took another step closer, drawn to her. She felt like a furnace now next to him, aflame, and he was like the moth that was drawn to her center, her warmness. He wanted to feel it, didn’t want this chill inside him. Rick took a step closer on in her, staring at her eyes.

His look must be so intense because losing her placidness, Amanda started fidgeting nervously just like every time Rick looked at her like this. “Rick—” she breathed out when Rick took another step, her cheeks flushing in that way that had nothing to do with the cold. “A-are you okay?”

Was he? He didn’t damn know anymore. The way he was in his fantasy flashed over his eyes, running like a wildfire over the chill.

Before he could stop himself, he lunged, his head dipping to find her lips. His kiss was demanding, but also desperate, to have her warmth, to have her… She was his. They were his.

Amanda stilled. They’d never done that before. Aside from that night before midnight out on the porch, they never kissed openly in public, not caring who would see.

Rick was beyond caring now.

He grasped her hand, dragging her closer against him before he deepened the kiss. He almost turned them around and went inside the house, to carry her up to the staircase to the master bedroom. The sanest part of his brain still left to him told him they couldn’t do it now, not everyone had sat down for dinner, but the temptation was great, was so strong, Rick had to force himself to step down from the porch and move her to the garage again.

Amanda was having this dazzled confusion expression over her face, the heat now flustering her skin in that way Rick liked as she let him lead her to the garage. Her desire for him incited another fire in him, warming him up in response.

Rick unlocked the lock as she waited beside him in silence and pushed her inside. Instead of jumping on him like each time she usually did, though, she regarded him this time as Rick assaulted at her belt.

He shed her pants down along her panties, leaving the task of kicking off her boots along with them to her as he started unbuttoning her shirt. Her dazzled stupor didn’t last after then, as she started recuperating, her hands going to his duty belt.

“Nothing wrong, right?” she still asked though as she unbuckled his belt.

Rick shook his head. “I want you.”

The way he uttered it out made her halt her hands for a fraction, her eyes raised at him. Rick wondered if she remembered their moment in the woods before they had sex the first time, admitting that he wanted her more than a man wanting a woman.

Rick still didn’t know what he truly meant with those words, but he knew Amanda recalled when she answered, yanking off his shirt out of his waistline with deft fingers. “I want you, too.”

“Terribly—” Rick mouthed, drawing her naked body over to him and catching her under her hips, he hoisted her up and carried her over to the workbench. Rick set her down quickly once they arrived and turned her around before he bent her on her stomach over the bench.

She wasn’t as wet as like in his dream, not glistening with water drops, but she was here, she was real, glowing with a pale light in the moonlit room, bent over in front of him, and Rick almost groaned by just looking at her.

She twisted aside on the counter, staring at him. “Amanda—” he whispered, leaning closer to her again, his hand creeping up to her ass, stroking her smooth curves. “I want you—” the words left him again before he muttered, “Please.”

Rick heard heated desperation in his own voice, a desperate need, and his chill fading, he started burning with a fever. He wanted this. Wanted them like this, and he was tired of denying his desires, his needs…himself. Grabbing her leg, Rick raised it and rested her knee over the bench, spreading her open for him like in his dream.

She was his. They were his. His family.

No one could take them away from him. Rick closed his eyes, leaning over her more as he twisted her further on her side before his other hand slithered over between her legs and started playing with her clit.

“Rick—” Amanda bucked as he picked up his rhythm, her hands shooting up to find something to hold. Over her head, there were shelves on the wall, and she grabbed the lowest one with her left hand as the other jerked backward to grab his hip.

“I’m gonna take care of you, baby—” he promised her, promised her with his whole being. “Just leave it to me.”

The need was still clawing at him. He was going to make it okay again, put everything back together. He pulled back his hand, and positioned himself over her wet entrance, jutting out her ass further in the air after quickly slipped on a condom. Step by step, he was going to have her. He wasn’t going to fuck this up. Amanda was going to see stars tonight.

 When he buried himself in her, his left hand crept over to her ass again, and his thumb started rubbing over her back entrance. Rick played with her all the while he stroked himself in her, but when he started sliding his other hand over her clit again, Amanda found the wild desire in her again just like last night.  She was coming closer to the edge as she whimpered under him with each thrust Rick did, his fingers still playing with her most sensitive zones at the same time, but Rick didn’t let her come. There was still time for that.

She was now glistening under the moonlight, her sleek body so damp with her own perspiration she shone like she was made of moonlight. She was so beautiful, so amazing, so…alive. Her laughter as she stood beside him in Death Wing ringed in his ears with his pounding blood as her loud groans started filling the garage.

Rick wondered briefly if anyone from the house would hear them, but he still couldn’t bring himself to cover her mouth. He wanted to hear those loud, throaty groans, the lewd way his name pouring out of her lips, begging for more. Amanda never talked much during sex, but the way she moaned said it openly. Rick wanted to hear those moans. He’d told her to leave it to him.

He moved his thumb into her ass, sliding in her slowly as her hips started bucking even more. Rick pulled his cock out of her. She cried out in protest but stopped as soon as he quickened his other’s hand’s brushes over her clit just in the way that turned her out of her mind.

She was the most beautiful creature Rick had ever seen… “Ah—ah-ah—Rick—”

Rick pulled his thumb out, and moving his other hand from her clit, he brought the tip of his cock at her ass’s entrance. Even with her frenzy to reach her climax, she still tensed under him, clenching, when Rick tried a shallow thrust.

Rick stopped moving. “Relax—” He whispered to her ear, his fingers stroking her softly. “Just relax—”

Curling his arm around her waist under the workbench to steady her shaking body in the position, Rick rubbed his fingers over her wet folds further and slid them over her back entrance. He moistened her with her own juice, slowly rubbing his damp fingers over her entrance to relax her more.

For a brief moment, he even wished to film them just like this, too, so they could watch it together, watch how they fucked, how Rick took her, how Amanda let him. Rick wasn’t an idiot. He’d already realized as libertine as she was with sex, Amanda hadn’t possibly done this before, and the realization was almost enough to make him growl out knowing she let it now because it was him.

His head swirling with the thought and desire, Rick pulled his hand back and tried another time.

Amanda squirmed, clenching herself again, pulling away on instinct but Rick didn’t let her go. Securing her, he just stayed over at her entrance, giving her more time to adjust herself to him as he began rubbing his hand again over her clit with a slow pace as he waited.

When he gradually picked up his rhythm, her muscles finally started loosening. In the end, Amanda even moved her leg upper over the bench to give him wider access to play with her, half rolling her thighs along with him.

The act did the job too. While she tried to find her release jerking her hips in circular motions to follow his hand, she also started taking his cock in her ass. Not losing any time when she got in the mood, Rick began thrusting forward inch by inch, splitting her tightest channel before he finally sheathed himself in her fully.

One hand still holding the shelves above her head, Amanda had clutched back the side of his hip tightly. His blood felt like molten lava inside his veins when Rick felt her nails digging into his skin.

Before he started moving, Rick added his finger in her vagina as she forcefully kept her trembling body up, clawing at his hip, her eyes shut closed. She’d become so slippery with sweat, she almost slid down under him.

Rick had been keeping her teetering on the edge so long, he honestly didn’t know how long she could take this, how long Rick could take this, he felt like a volcano ready to erupt, but he still wanted to fuck her like there was no tomorrow.

There’s never time… the words echoed in him, then staring down at her, Rick started moving his hips.

# # #

Something was happening again, or something had already happened. There was that sharp, edgy glint in his eyes as Rick gazed at her half twisted, half trapped figure over the bench, Amanda trembling uncontrollably with exertion and with feelings. That savage beast was fucking her this time unhinged as she’d wished… be careful what you wish for.

It felt so odd, so…full, a part of her still couldn’t believe it, having him fuck her like this. It almost felt surreal, the empty garage, the moonlit darkness, everything. But still so real, the way he moved behind her, driving her to a climax, a climax Amanda felt was going to be unforgettable.

Even more so than last night, so much more powerful, so much rawer, she was feeling it building in her, all of her…empty places filled with him, his scent filling her nostrils, she was so close to him, his breath tingling over her neck and her ear, squirming helplessly under him for her release—god…how did they come to this?

The question was buzzing in the back of her mind, but Amanda couldn’t focus it on—because God!

Her fingers clutched his hip tighter when Rick deepened his thrusts. He groaned loudly in response, adding his thumb to make slides over her clit at the same time. She thought she was going to die, having Rick like that—Rick doing this to her—

“Amanda, open your eyes—” she heard him whispering to her, his hot breath tingling over her skin, his voice so hoarse she couldn’t even recognize it anymore. “Look at me.”

Before she could understand, her brain complied with the order. Her eyelids fluttered open, and Amanda gazed at him through a haze. His fingers had slowed down now too as Rick looked at her only moving his hips to stroke himself in her ass slowly as if he only wanted her to feel this.

And, Amanda did. God have mercy on her, she did.

“I want ya to look at me while we do this—” To prove his point further, he pulled and slid back inside her the next moment, raising his foot for better leverage, and rested it on at the edge of the bench.

Stars exploded over her eyes with the deep move as Amanda blindly clutched the bench at the other side with her dropping hand. Her eyes were closed again, a loud deep growl leaving her lips, but she felt another surge shaking her body uncontrollably when he suddenly pinched her clit.

Amanda let out a raw throaty cry. “Eyes open—” he reminded her, his hoarse voice resonating in her insides. “I wanna see ya—”

Fluttering her eyes open again, Amanda raised them at his. “Yeah, just like this—” he murmured just before he plunged in her again at that weird angle with his raised leg.

“Rick—” she groaned loudly, her eyes glued on his, her fingers tightening over the bench’s edge, and his sight—God, his sight as he fucked her like this.

He looked even more feral than last night, as feral as that night in the woods under the moonlight, face strained with each stroke, frosted glass blue eyes penetrating through her as deep as his thrusts. Her beautiful savage beast.

Easing off her hand from the bench’s side, Amanda crept it between her legs and found his hand. She only could manage to utter his name again in a moan, but understanding her wish, Rook took her hand, removing it from her clit. Amanda didn’t care. She just wanted to hold his hand. Look at his eyes and hold his hand as he did this to her.

The only man she ever let, the only man she ever wanted to be with.

Rick linked their hands together, and leaning down on her further, he brought them up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She shuddered even worse with the gentle contact opposite with his hips pounding in her savagely. Their hands still twined together, hunched over her, his forehead touched the side of hers as he looked at her with those keen piercing eyes.

Amanda didn’t run away from them this time. She held his gaze, started rolling back her hips to meet with his thrusts. Rick’s eyes glazed like blue diamonds in response.

“Together?” he asked her throatily, still looking at her.

“Together.” Amanda whispered back, her eyes not moving away an inch.

# # #

When they settled down sprawled out on the floor, panting heavily, the only movement Rick could manage was to dispose of the heavy condom with his semen away from them before he snugged her back against his chest. It was cold without her, too cold.

They had to move now, go back to the house, but Rick didn’t want to. Judging by the way she was draped over his chest listlessly, her eyes half-closed, Amanda didn’t look like she was objecting, so Rick just lay down and stayed, stroking her arm with his fingertips, barely touching.

He couldn’t stop himself touching her. Even after the rough anal sex they’d just had done. A part of him still couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream that his highly aroused strained mind had conjured for him, that they really did it, that he had really fucked Amanda like that, gazing at each other all the time, their hands twined together.

Just as the thought came to him, Rick understood his other hand was still tangled through hers at his side. Rick almost shuddered, awareness slowly catching up with him after his powerful climax.

Still, he didn’t move. That cold blankness inside him felt almost gone when he had her in his arms when their fingers stayed linked together. Even when their erratic breathing settled more, they didn’t move. Even when the chill of the night started finding them more, they didn’t move. Rick blindly reached out for their scattered clothes beneath the workbench, whatever he could find, his own mostly as Rick had stripped off most of her clothes beside the door.

He draped his suede jacket over her, sheltering her lungs, and closed their hips with his shirt. He pushed his jeans under himself to cast off the chilly tiles as much as possible, but seeing a cardboard plate under the workbench, he brought it up with his feet and rolled them over it. Amanda frowned with the movement when Rick disturbed her idle stance, and another scare grabbed him as Rick feared if he had hurt her in the throes of passion.

But her expression eased a second later as she drooped herself again half over him, half over the cardboard. Tipping his head up, Rick spotted the blanket they’d left in the garage after their first time on the shelves, the very shelf that Amanda had been holding tightly as Rick drove in her over the bench madly.

The scene flashed before his eyes before he drew up quickly. Amanda made a long, low, languorous protest as she slid away with his move and it was the sexiest sound Rick had ever heard.

He reached out to the blanket quickly and laying down on the cardboard again, gathered Amanda between his arms almost with a smile. She was already half-asleep, her eyelids half-closed as Rick covered their nakedness with the blanket. Just beside the workbench’s feet, Rick had made a nest for them to pass the night. He stuck his jeans under his head this time and rested his head on it.

They weren’t going to return to the house and pass the night in the separate rooms. No. He couldn’t stay away from her tonight, not after this.

Rick was tired, everything was still a turmoil in him, Amanda, Carl, his fears, and now Judith, too. His little baby girl. He couldn’t let them know the truth. Let them suffer what Rick was living through.

Because it still hurt. Even after everything, it still hurt, like frosted sharp blades slicing through his skin. He couldn’t let his children live through this pain. That was his burden to carry, only his.

Feeling the coldness reaching out to him again, Rick wrapped his arms around Amanda closer, seeking her warmness. She didn’t make a sound, didn’t even ask again what all of this was about. She just stayed in his arms until her eyes closed fully and she fell asleep.

Staring into the darkness, Rick listened to her steady breathing.

Notes:

So, Rick finally learned about Judith's real parentage. I always wanted to see how Rick would deal with this, as he never--*ever* talks about it. He just briefly mentioned it to Michonne once, and it only happened becasue of Negan. I truly think this's a gold mine, to explore Rick's pyshce and mentality, and well, I also needed to have more solid base to have Rick vs Pete Anderson, as there's also no Jessie/Rick subplot here, and Rick needs to get *really* worried about Anderson.
I've been playing with Rick and Amanda for this final moment since the begining, finally having anal sex as it's also a crossing line for them, Rick having another breakdown, and admits what he wants.

Like I said I'll try to update the next two chapters this weekend. In the meantime, I'd be glad to hear what you think, as always! Silence *really* sucks! :D

Ciaociao!

Chapter 18: 'I like anywhere you and your sister can be safe'

Summary:

Rick tries to deal with the morning after following Amanda's departure for the supply run. Amanda starts feeling guilt thinking she's neglected Beth and her duties. After a moment with his sister, Carl makes a decision which finally makes Rick and he share a father-son talk.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When Amanda woke up, the first thing she noticed was the hard cold floor. The garage was dimly lit, dust and beams of sunlight slowly seeping through the narrow windows above in the heights. The soft light cast an eerie atmosphere to the empty room even more, almost enough to convince her that the craze of last night was just her imagination.

If only Amanda didn’t have this lingering reminder at her ass that told her it indeed wasn’t.

They were huddled on the ground over the cardboard like homeless people, an old scratchy blanket draped over them. Under it, they were still naked just as before they drifted to sleep last night, Rick’s arms still cocooning around her. During the night, they must have shifted position as his leg was mounted over hers now while he spooned her from behind.

Her whole body was aching again much like when they had come to Alexandria. Sleeping over the earth had become too accustomed for them after weeks they spent in the wilderness, curling up whatever place they could find on the forage as dry and flat as possible, but perhaps soft mattresses and clean sheets had started spoiling them. Though, the way between her thighs and her ass ached now had nothing to with that.

Her ass.

God.

That peculiar aching feeling behind her that Amanda didn’t know how to express before? This time it was tenfold—a hundred times worse. Her ass ached funnily, twinging…It almost felt like it was fluttering. She didn’t even want to think about how they did it. God, she didn’t want to think anything anymore. Nothing seemed to work anymore.

They should’ve just returned to the house last night. That was the exact reason why Amanda never liked dawdling in the bed for the rest of the night after the deed was done; so much awkwardness.

She’d tumbled on the floor just before she started climaxing, couldn’t hold herself up any longer. Rick still didn’t let her go even after then, going on fucking her ass, flipping her on her stomach, then after her orgasm, she just couldn’t move anymore. She felt so spent; she couldn’t even take Rick hauling her away gently to take the blanket from the shelves on the wall. She’d just wanted to lay down and rest.

When she stirred on the floor, Amanda felt the muscles in his forearms tensed even though Rick didn’t make a move. She twisted her head over her shoulder and it didn't suprise her to see him awake. Amanda wondered if he even slept a wink last night. His red-rimmed eyes told her the answer. He was staring at her with that look, sharp keen eyes penetrating, and it was so damn early for that!

God. What the hell had happened?

The question almost came to her tongue, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to start something else she couldn’t finish. Don’t start something you can’t finish, Amanda.

I don’t get into fights I know I can’t win.

She was making such a splendid job on that, really. Turning away from him, but still staying in his arms, she decided to list her facts like solving a case. Something obviously happened, enough to trigger him to kiss her out on the porch even before they made it to the garage. Despite Rick never hid them purposely, even held her hand a couple of times when his mood struck, Rick liked showing affections in public as much as she did. During the day, he seemed okay, they both still were in that weird phase playing hide and seek with each other, but he looked fine. The last time Amanda had seen him before they met at the porch, he was walking to the infirmary with Judith while Amanda drifted off over to the pond—

All of her thoughts dragged to a sudden halt as her body tensed. Shit! She almost drew up in his arm, panic finding her.

Beth! She had forgotten Beth! Just trailed into another lustful whirlwind after seeing Rick out on the porch like that. God! What kind of bitch she was!

Straightening up, Amanda recalled the trees carved with the ouroboros she’d discovered last night. She’d stopped counting after six. Alexandria had the smallest groove around the pond, but damn it, Beth had carved the symbol almost on each of them.

How she could’ve let this slip?

Was it negligence, too? Had she become this lost in her damn problems that she neglected Beth this much that she didn’t notice what the girl had started doing? It wasn’t a new thing. Beth must’ve been carving the trees for days!

The guilt found her so deeply, so stark, for a second Amanda couldn’t breathe. She knew what negligence did to people. She’d seen it even without understanding truly, had seen how they neglected her friend without realizing what was happening in the basement until it was too late.

The thought almost made her sob too as she also remembered the dead rats at the fences, how they’d failed to notice it too before it was too late. What would’ve happened if they discovered it was Lizzie who was doing that? Reached out to the girl before they were forced to escape in such fashion? Would they have managed to help her then?

She made another move, but Rick caught her shoulder this time and turned her on her back gently. “Hey—” he asked her, leaning down over her as he drew upon his elbow slightly, looking at her studiously, searching. “Ya okay?”

Something strung in her chest, and Amanda wanted to leave, just leave. “Yeah—” She bobbed her head quickly. She didn’t want to lay low and do whatever the hell they’d been doing. She had to find Beth and learned what this was about, do something. Before it was too late again.

She started straightening up. “I gotta go—” Rick’s heavy gaze was still on her, his eyes now squinted warily as he regarded her.

She wanted to yell at him to stop doing it. She didn’t have time for this! She had to find Beth! They should—her thoughts coming to another halt, Amanda stilled, frozen, her eyes widening staring at Rick, but this time, to be fair to him, he wasn’t the source of her stupor.

Shit—” she cursed in a hiss, springing up to her feet, throwing him off of her.

Rick narrowed his eyes further, but she didn’t give him any attention. Her withdrawal gone, she couldn’t even feel her oddly fluttering ass or her aching muscles, nor the soreness between her legs.

“Shit!” she repeated as she started looking wildly for her clothes. Her panties! Where the hell was it?

“Amanda—”

She stopped him raising her hand. “I don’t have time for this right now,” she replied, her voice almost cold, and she didn’t care. Even though she couldn’t see it, she felt Rick’s squinted eyes at her back as she caught the glimpse of her panties inside her pants over the door.

She jogged to them and started passing her legs through the underwear quickly while Rick watched her with those stern eyes. It’d rattle her under normal circumstances, wearing her damn panties when he was looking at her like that, but she was too far gone in her hurry to care about that, either.

“I gotta go. Supply run—” she explained when she found her bra too. “We were supposed to leave at dawn. They must be waiting for me at the gate now.”

She’d fucked up everything. Again. It was Beth’s first run, and she was already running late. If it wasn’t already enough, Aiden and his team must be waiting too, and Amanda had a pretty guess that what they were going to correctly surmise when they saw Beth alone.

Suddenly anger burst into her. She was so furious at herself, at Rick, she wanted to smack his head on the wall. Her eyes cut over to him under her bowed head as she started with her pants.

Rick caught her glance. “Let ‘em go.”

Halting as she tugged her right leg into her pants, Amanda lifted her head. “Excuse me?”

“Let ‘em go,” Rick repeated with that low but firm tone she knew, forceful and engaging, still staring at her. “Aiden has his team. They can do it.” She narrowed her eyes at him, not sure of his meaning. “You don’t have to go out.”

She shook her head, frowning more. “I need to be out there, Rick. And I promised Beth.”

“We take Beth and Carl out today together,” Rick countered. “You teach her—"

“For god’s sake, don’t patronize me!” she cut him off with a cry, pulling up her jeans.

“I’m not—” he replied, standing up to walk to her. “Amanda, you don’t need to do this.” He stopped in front of her beside the door. “You don’t have to go out.”

She glanced at him, bending down to pick up her shirt. “Why?” she questioned, her voice turning stiff. “Because I have you now? That’s what you mean?” she pressed on, putting her shirt on.  “Are you going to provide for me now?”

He stayed silent, his eyes turning to a blue flare. Amanda knew she was picking a real fight now, one that would turn nasty, but somehow, she couldn’t help with herself. Something was lashing at her insides, clawing at her edges, and she wanted to lash back.

“SP-W doesn’t need to earn her keep anymore because she’s spreading her legs wide for you?” She stared at him in the eye, tucking her shirt inside her beltline. “Letting you fuck her ass?”

The only reaction she saw in his rigid posture was inside his eyes, a flicker of hurt before it vanished as Rick stood like a naked marble statue, only staring back at her. “Just to clarify, Amanda—” he roughed out. “Did you mean it this time or was it one of the things you just do?”

She flinched back, recalling her words. But instead of answering, she bent down again to grab her boot knife and tucked it sharply in her right boot before she left the garage.

# # #

Carl woke up, Judith curled up beside him in the bed, his left arm almost touching his sister as he usually did in sleep. There was a missing feeling beside them, a sort of coldness, and craning his head up from the pillow to look, Carl understood what it was.

Judy’s other side, where his father usually slept, tucking his baby sister between them, was empty, untouched. There weren’t even wrinkles over the sheet. His father hadn’t returned last night. A scowl setting up over his half sleepy eyes, Carl told himself it was okay.

He’d been expecting this to start happening, too. Carl wasn’t stupid. He was aware of what his father and Amanda were doing since last week at every opportunity they could find, but they always came back to the house afterward. A bitter scoff almost left him, imagining them wanting to sleep together last night, too, instead of coming back. I guess you don’t care about that anymore.

The feel of resentment found Carl again, and he thought if Judith would call Amanda now mom? The thought brought anger back to him, worse than before—No!

It wasn’t right!

Judith had her mother. She shouldn’t call anyone else mommy, especially when she wouldn’t even know how their mother looked like. The reality pierced through him like a knife again. Although Carl didn’t want it, he knew very well that might be happening soon.

When Judy started speaking, there was a good probability that she might call Amanda mama.

Drawing up in the bed, Carl looked at his baby sister, his mood souring even further. It wasn’t right. They had a mother, a mother who gave her life for his sister before she closed her eyes and went to eternal sleep. Goodnight my love.

The memory almost broke him, tears welling in his eyes, but Carl didn’t let them fall. He was a man now, he shouldn’t cry. He did what he had to. But it wasn’t still right. Judith shouldn’t call anyone mommy, and she should at least know what Lorraine Grimes looked like.

She should!

His sister started wheezing waking up as if she sensed him awake and stirred in the bed. Carl scooped her up in his arms, still laying on his back on the bed, and pressed her in his chest. “You’ll know our mother, Judy—” Carl promised to his sister, breathing her baby scent. “I promise.”

Carl was going to do it, somehow. Even though his father didn’t, Carl still cared. He was going to find a way. He liked Amanda, he really did, but this was something else. Perhaps she would even understand.

Nevertheless, Carl had to go to the prison and retrieve their mother’s picture. If no one was coming, then he was going to do it alone. Even Beth looked like now she’d forgotten about it, not making an issue anymore. Carl was still trying to fix her music box too. He hadn’t given it back to her. Beth let that too.

But he shouldn’t act childish. He’d already made that mistake once, paid the price. He wasn’t acting out. He wasn’t trying to prove anything, to anyone. He just needed his mother’s photo.

Then perhaps if he had it back, seeing them together would start hurting…less, too.

Carl wanted his father to be happy. Amanda made him happy, he guessed. Sometimes it became hard to tell, but Carl also knew his father. Sometimes there was that light in his eyes, warm and kind, and a hint of a smile at his lips when he looked at Amanda. In those times he looked like his father again, like the man in their family photos.

Carl had missed that look. There were times Carl had started feeling it after they came to Alexandria when they all sat down in the living room watching a movie, all of them on the couch like…a family. It’d become an occurrence he didn’t expect to enjoy, but Carl did, and he knew his father did too, the way his shoulders relaxed sitting with them on the couch, his arm going up over the couch towards her.

Carl knew his dad wanted to take her under his arm like he used to do to his mother while they watched TV at night in their home before. Carl could read it over his face but kept himself restricted. His arm was away from her for the last few days, Carl noticed, too. They must’ve had another fight. They’d become so apparent now.

Bowing his head, Carl looked at his baby sister. Maybe he really should listen to his father’s advice, and move out, give them space so they wouldn’t need to stay out to pass the night together. The idea still bugged him, them together with Judith, but his father was right on the other part, too.

His eyes cast down as his baby sister wiggled against his chest, her tiny feet close to his lap, where Carl became more aware of the tightness between his legs since the time he woke up.

Carl knew from their biology class before the dead rose that it was a normal body reaction for his age. When it started happening on the road last year a lot more, he became so…ashamed and anxious, waking up to find out his…thing poking out, trying to hide it from his father and mother. His father had explained later again that was normal.

Carl remembered the awkward, stiffened way he’d talked that day, putting down his sister on the bed. His erections were more frequent now, finding him at the most inconvenient times, especially since they arrived in Alexandria. His dreams had started being plagued with Clarice.

Carl flushed again, his semi arousal blooming out fully, and his hand almost went there. He—he’d started wanting to do that a lot, too.

His eyes closed, Carl heard the soft moan Clarice made as he slowly rubbed her breast over her dress, touching her lips. He’d been so anxious that he was going to mess it up, but Clarice didn’t look like she minded.

Carl sprung up to his feet with the memory, catching Judy to drop her in her crib before he dashed into the bathroom. As he relieved himself like he’d figured out, Clarice stayed with him all the while.

His body still trembling, Carl wiped himself clean and flushed the toilet after he finished. Returning to the room, he sat down on the edge of the bed.

Perhaps his father had been right. He really should get his own space. The mornings weren’t an embarrassment anymore, thank god, as his father usually always left the bed around dawn before he woke up, but Carl started having fears now. Sometimes during the night, he woke up from those dreams, his hand over his pajamas, rubbing himself or worse, a couple of times even wet. His father, even he was awake, never mentioned it, pretending asleep. It was an awful moment; one Carl dreaded it happened again.

Judith raised her tiny hand with her favorite toy, her stuffed giraffe towards him, hovering over the edge of the crib, offering him to the toy as if she sensed his foul mood.

Carl smiled, reaching out to the toy as Judy babbled out, “Kaa—Kaa—” Carl wondered if she was trying to say his name. His sullen mood disappeared at the thought as Judith babbled out another long drawled Kaa as Carl smiled wider.

He took the toy from his sister. “For me?”

Judy nodded as if she agreed. “Thank you, sweetie—” Carl told her sister, looking at the toy. “It’s a cute thing, huh?” he asked, twisting it around between his fingers. Amanda had found it from the daycare, coming back to the house with her arms full of toys and stuff for Judy, smiling a big, open smile happily.

It was one of the moments that made everything even harder. It must’ve been so much easier to hate her if she was like one of those stepmothers in the stories, a witch, not like this. Not genuine in her words when she told him she cared about them.

Carl supposed Judy was even lucky, too, that his baby sister was going to have her at least, but still, Amanda wasn’t Judy’s mother. Judy had her mother. Even though she could never know her anymore.

His anger finding him, Carl sprung to his feet.

“I just don’t understand why we can’t go back, Judy—” he told his sister, shaking the toy in the air with his raised arm.

Judy made a bubbling sound as if she was agreeing again. “The prison’s fences are down. Without us, the walkers would just wander away! They herd up, then immigrate. He told us that!”

They even left the city, wandering away, drifting away because there was no one left. Without people to keep them herded up, their numbers wouldn’t be that much for them to clear the prison again. They’d managed to do it with so few people even when they were all locked up in the blocks. They couldn’t stay there without the fences, of course, and honestly, Carl didn’t even want to leave Alexandria.

This was a place his sister would grow up safe. Carl just didn’t understand why they couldn’t go back!

The trip back to there was long, yes, Carl understood that, but it was worth the risk. Why he was the only one who could see it? Deanna sounded like she didn’t mind long supply runs, either. Her other supply team was out since they were here, and it was two weeks now. If she dared a run for more than two weeks, then she could certainly dare one back to the prison.

But his father—his father didn’t even ask! Didn’t even care to ask her!

By the time, he changed into his clothes and took his baby girl to leave the room to feed her after changing her clothes and diaper, Carl had become so angry again, his cheeks flushed. In the kitchen, Beth was eating a bowl of oatmeal even faster than Daryl usually did.

Carl eyed his friend, placing Judith in her high chair around the island. The others must be sleeping or had already left the house because aside from them, the kitchen was empty. “I’m so late—” Beth uttered, stuffing another full spoon into her mouth while she did. “You know, it’s the big day.”

Walking to the oatmeal pot on the stove, Carl nodded. “Yeah.”

“I was alone last night—” Beth suddenly remarked, her eyes following him, Carl picked up out of the corner of his eyes as he filled two small bowls for him and Judy. “You?”

Carl nodded again stiffly. “Yeah.”

Beth was silent for a second as she swallowed. “Where do you think they were this time?” she asked, taking up another spoon quickly.

Carl wasn’t the only one that his father and Amanda hadn’t managed to fool. Frankly, Carl wasn’t sure if they were fooling anyone at all even though they kept behaving like they weren’t together.

It was one of the things between them that didn’t make sense. They acted weird in each other’s company. At first, Carl had thought it was because of him. Because he didn’t like seeing them together, but he wasn’t sure of that now. “Garage?” Beth questioned further.

Carl shrugged, returning to the island. He set the tiny bowl in front of Judith on the little tray attached to her chair before he found a teaspoon and started feeding her. Amanda and Carol had started letting Judy feed herself since last week, but Judy made such a mess when she did that, Carl didn’t want to deal with it.

The memory of Amanda with a full spoon of apple sauce running over the side of her face and her hair almost cracked him up as she looked at his baby sister incredulously, her eyes widened in shock. But it only took her a second to recuperate before she schooled her expression neutral and told Judy coolly that the food for her to eat, not to throw away around.

Judy had made a baby noise that sounded like a giggle in response as Amanda wiped her face and hair clean before she started laughing too. “Your daddy was about to poison a man to feed you that a couple of weeks ago, honey.”

She had this easy-going demeanor with his sister that always reminded Carl of Daryl, and it really made things…well, Carl didn’t know anymore. He remembered how she showed him how to change Judy’s diaper, and how nice it felt, two of them doing that, but then she refused to take him out when he asked.

Carl supposed she was still going to need to teach him at least the basic training course she tried to set up as it was decided mandatory for everyone in the town, but Carl preferred to be in haste as much as Beth now. He wanted to go out with them.

His father had started taking him out with him, even giving him lessons on how to use Michonne’s sword, but Amanda’s rejection still hurt, more than Carl had thought, more than he’d expected, even though he didn’t want to admit it.

“I think I’m gonna take the garage like Daryl—” he said, giving Judy another spoon as Beth placed her dish in the dishwasher with quick moves.

“What?” his friend turned to him, bent over the machine. “You’re gonna move out?”

Was it his imagination or Carl sensed a hint of…hurt beneath her voice?

Carl twisted towards her to see her openly. Beth was looking at him now with those wide blue eyes Carl used to dream about all nights before.

Those dreams were…nothing alike how he dreamed of Clarice these days. Carl just used to…dream Beth. He couldn’t remember what he was dreaming when he was awake other than he was just dreaming Beth. Carl hadn’t been having those dreams anymore, either, for a while now.

He didn’t know what that meant, he didn’t know what his dreams about Clarice meant, and he didn’t know what meant what he felt when he realized Beth and Ron had been kissing much like he and Clarice, and he didn’t know what meant when Clarice and Beth started fighting—

All the things Carl didn’t know.

“I think it’s for the best—” he replied. “So they wouldn’t need to stay out anymore to spend time together, too.”

“Well, that’s sweet—” she commented, straightening back from the dishwasher, her eyes searching. “You’re warming up to the idea then, huh?”

Carl shrugged. “It’s not like they’re gonna stop even if I weren’t—” he shot back. “Besides, I need my space too.” He paused and added, his old bitterness seeping into his tone. “Even Dad told me so.”

In response, Beth gave him a look. Carl turned his attention to her hand that was still wrapped lightly. “How’s the hand?” he asked.

“It’s good—” Beth answered offhandedly, gazing down at the black cloth. “I mostly left it today because it looks cool.”

Carl smiled half. “Badass.”

“Yup.”

Carl gave another spoon to Judy when she wheezed out in protest when Carl started neglecting her breakfast.

“You work on the field today, okay?” Beth asked, walking to the door but stopped beside him. “I don’t want us to stay back on our schedule because Amanda and I are both leaving.”

“Sure—” Carl admitted, nodding absently, raising the spoon to Judy’s little pink mouth. It was that or working on the flowerbeds, and there was a little bit too much drama over there. The townspeople looked like they surely liked their gardens, but his father’s patience had grown thin. Thinner. All of their patience was growing thin.

“I’m going to the prison—” Carl announced the next moment before Beth left.

Stilling beside the door, Beth stood over the threshold, before she turned to him, shaking her head. She had a placid sadness of loss over her features, something Carl knew from the bottom of his heart. “They will never let us, Carl—” she told him slowly.

Carl shrugged in response before he only said, “Be careful out there—” He tilted his head at her. “And stay safe.”

Beth jerked her head in a nod before she walked out. “You, too.”

Carl stayed with his sister for half of an hour until Carol came down with Mika and started preparing breakfast for the little girl. Carl left them then, going out on the porch. He dawdled for a couple of minutes, trying to decide what to do before he realized that he wanted to talk to his father one more time, make him understand, make him see it. They had to go back.

He almost started climbing down the steps when he saw Amanda storming off in the other driveway adjacent to their garden. Her face was the color of ash, her jaw clenched, Carl could see it even from the distance between them as she marched over to the gate.

Beth had left almost half an hour ago, and she’d said she was already late. Amanda was beyond late.

A couple of minutes later his father appeared in the driveway, too. He took the opposite direction and started walking towards their house, his face as dour as hers. Carl wasn’t surprised. He quickly climbed up the steps with his long strides. His jaw so set up, his eyes so squinted, Carl could sense the anger emitting out of his every pore.

But Carl had to talk to him. He had to. “Dad—” Carl called out, but his father just stopped him still walking to the screen door, his arm raised towards Carl as if in…a warning, not even sparing him a glance.

“Not now, Carl—” he spoke so lowly in his throat, his tone hoarse. “Not now.”

Carl clenched his jaw and shut up. His father pushed the screen door and Carl caught a glimpse of him climbing up the staircase inside quickly, too, before he vanished.

Well, he had asked.

Carl thought about a second or so before he left the porch and headed to the smallest spot his father had discovered between the masonry wall and Alexandria’s tall walls, where he’d found Cinnamon.

He was going back to the prison. One way or another. He was going to make a lot of preparation, but Carl needed something before anything else. Something one should never leave the walls without.

A gun.

Carl needed a gun. His gun was locked in the armory. He couldn’t steal from the armory as Carol and Joan did, and he couldn’t take theirs too without raising suspicions. No. Carl knew where to find one undetected.

He dashed inside to take his katana on the mantelpiece in the living room, slung it over his shoulder before he put his hat on his head. Leaving the house, he quickly made it to the spot before his father left the house and started his round like each morning or before the hourly patrols caught him.

The masonry wall was lined with shrubberies like a fence and apple trees. The wall itself had small cracks inside it over time, too, so the climb wasn’t as hard as Carl had feared. It was also the highest spot uphill, so the drop over the other side wouldn’t be…as deadly as the other parts.

Carl had jumped down over worse.

Putting his feet in a crack between the old cobblestones, Carl started climbing, making his way up to the tree when he heard it. “What’re you doing?”

Surprised with getting caught, and recognizing the voice, Carl the tree branch over his head not to drop off on the ground. Carl twisted aside. “What are you doing, Clarice?” he asked with an annoyed look, sizing her up. She was still clad in her uniform, her mini skirt, stockings and pumps, and all. “Why ain’t you in the school?”

Carl and Beth had already stopped going. They were helping Amanda and his father in the town instead, but Ron and she were still going.

Unfazed with his stony reply, Clarice looked back at him. “You’re running out in the woods.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious—” Carl sneered, turning to climb upper, but she spoke again behind his back before he grabbed another branch.

“I want to come too—” she stated. “I want to see.”

Carl shook his head. “No. Your sister doesn’t want it. Deanna doesn’t want it.” Carl really wasn’t looking for…more trouble. He had a mission now. This wasn’t a play.

“Your father says we need to see it,” Clarice replied. “We need to know.”

Well, Carl didn’t have anything against that. “Yeah—” he agreed. “But no,” he added quickly, moving himself up over a thick tree branch over his head and sat on it astride.

Carl looked down at the girl who had been plaguing his dreams for a while now, her blonde silky hair, her legs with stockings under her mini-plaited skirt, the way her tight jacket fitting over her breasts. “Not with me,” he continued, his voice roughing as he noticed he started having a hard-on on the top of the tree.

It annoyed him. “Amanda can take you out after your course finished,” he bristled. He just wanted her to leave him alone now.

But as if she read his mind, Clarice did the exact opposite. “If you don’t take me with you, I start screaming right now.”

There was a cool tint in her tone that suggested that she would carry on her threat if Carl didn’t give her what she wanted, so Carl just sent her a glare and tilted his head at her. “Can you climb?”

 In answer, Clarice put the tip of her pump inside a crack in the wall like Carl did and started pulling herself up. It was harder for her to climb in those thick heels and with her skirt, but she still managed to do it with an easiness that surprised Carl before he hauled her up beside him on the tree astride.

Her fair skin was flushed red with exercise, and inside her usually lash silky hair, there were pieces of leaves, and over her cheeks dirt and pieces of tree bark. She looked different, but still beautiful, especially when she smiled at him.

“How was it—the song?” she suddenly asked, leaning over in him on the branch before she mumbled with a singing voice, “Carl and Clarice, sitting on a tree—” Carl glanced down at her lips as she neared even closer to him. “K-I-S—”

Carl stopped her, slowly touching her lips.

She smiled as he kissed her, and slowly her lips opened and invited him in. They’d done it before in the party, and it was the first time Carl had kissed a girl like this. Their tongues were more playful this time, exploring each other, and Carl almost forgot why they were up on the tree before she pulled back and smiled at him in that way again.

Carl couldn’t find the exact words to describe it. It was as wry as her smiles when Carl couldn’t be sure if she was making fun of him or not, but there was another layer in it, too, something sweet, and it just made him want to kiss her more.

 Carl cleared his throat a little, tipping the edge of his hat. “We should go before Dad starts his round,” he advised as Clarice just smiled at him again.

“Lead the way, sheriff’s son.”

When they arrived in the woods at east, her playful expression left its place to wariness as they started hearing the sounds of the woods. Carl had grown accustomed to them, but Clarice wasn’t. A squirrel ran in front of them as they followed its water trail. But it made Clarice clutch his hand, her nails almost digging into him.

“It's just a squirrel, running for water—” he told her, pointing at the trail. “That’s what they do at the first thing in the morning. Start looking for water,” he explained. “That’s their trail.”

She nodded, eyeing the narrow dirt path the small animals had made over time. “Like us?” she asked, turning half to him.

“Yeah.” They walked the rest of the way, her hand tucked into his, pressed at his side, and Carl…liked it, liked it as much as kissing her. She still didn’t ask why he left the town in secret. Carl didn’t head towards the cabin his father had hidden the stolen guns yet, too. He didn’t know if he would trust her with the guns. So they just walked around.

When they heard a crack of a branch, she wilted against his side even closer. “Are they here, right?” she whispered to him, her head turning around to survey the area, her voice now having a tremble as Carl did the same too.

She looked nothing like the composed girl on the tree as she looked wildly at the woods, her pupils dilated with fear then they fixated on her left side where a lone walker slowly lurched out between trees.

Clarice almost shielded herself behind him. “Is that it?” she whispered to his ear, her hands gripping his sides now. “The dead ones?”

Carl nodded. “Yeah.”

It was still mind-blowing that she hadn’t still seen any walker yet, so Carl would understand her shock-stricken face and the way she hid behind him, but Carl had to deal with the walker.

“Don’t be afraid—” he told her, twisting his head before he stepped aside. “It’s just one walker. They’re not dangerous if they’re not herded up—” Carl pulled out his katana blade, moving away from her another step for safety. “Or if they don’t catch you unguarded.”

He rose the sword in the attack position. “That’s why you never should let your guard down,” he finished, mimicking his father’s best cop voice before he left her to stride to the walker purposefully.

He swept his raised arms in a swing, turning the blade above his head before he stabbed it into the walker’s brain. The dead dropped at his feet. Carl pulled the blade free and shook the dark rotting blood the way Michonne used to do after each time she killed one of them. He then turned around and sheathed the blade.

He wasn’t showing off, well, maybe only a bit, but there was that look over Clarice’s expression now, very close to the one that Carl saw Michonne killing the walker with her sword the first time, mixed with awe and…envy. But, in Clarice’s eyes, there was still a fright, all mixed up in her eyes, turning the mossy green of her eyes brighter, and she looked so…beautiful.

She approached gingerly to the walker, but stopped behind him again, and peeped at the dead over his shoulder. Carl looked at her over his shoulder. “Ya okay?”

“I think—” Clarice shook her head slowly. “I still can’t believe this’s real.”

Carl shook his head too, turning ahead. “And I still can’t believe you haven’t seen any walker before.”

“Walker?” she asked, raising on her toes to peek at him.

Clarice was shorter than him almost two inches, even with her pumps. Carl had been growing taller quickly in the last months. Sometimes it felt his body changed every day. One day his voice became thicker, one day he found more hair on himself, over his chest like his dad and over his groin. Last week he had even noticed he’d grown a few facial hairs along the base of his jaw.

Again, from the biological class, Carl knew this was perfectly normal for his age, but it was very…annoying. “We call ‘em walkers—” he replied, catching her eyes. “Some call them biters. Lurkers. Geeks. Amanda calls ‘em rotters.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I think I’ll go with rotters. Sounds more adequate.” She finally stepped around, stopping hiding herself behind his back, and stood in front of him. “Carl, why were you sneaking away?” she asked directly. “Why did you come out?”

Thoughts swirled in his mind like a tornado, one after another, and the way she smiled at him, the way she held his hand, the way she shielded herself behind him, and before Carl could stop it, the words left him. “I’m gonna tell you but you gotta swear you won’t tell anyone.”

Clarice smiled one of those smiles, bringing her right hand over her mouth before she did a zipping gesture. “My lips are sealed.”

# # #

Rick stood under the cold water until his body turned blue, his skin started wrinkling, letting the chill quench his anger, cool him down, but he was still waiting. He didn’t even try to stop himself to think, because, frankly, he didn’t even know where to begin to think anymore.

He didn’t even understand what had happened. After last night… God, the way they had been together, holding each other’s hand, sharing that kind of intimacy, Amanda opening herself that way for the first time. Together. She didn’t even run away her eyes from him but stared back at him openly.

Now, this.

Was she having qualms again, relapsing into her usual two steps ahead-one back pattern? Rick was tired of that dance, so tired. Last night as he listened to her soft, steady breaths, Rick even thought to tell her again he loved her. He wanted to do it, felt the need as strongly as he wanted to fuck her like that last night, just tell her again. I love you.

I want you. That wasn’t what he’d wanted to say, Rick realized later. He wanted to say he loved her. He wanted to cup her face gently, stroke her cheek softly, and tell it to her again, staring at her eyes. I love you. He couldn’t have done it properly the first time. He’d fucked it up, just blurted it out then turned around and walked away. Rick wanted to redeem his mistake, put back everything together.

It shouldn’t be this hard. She belonged with him. They belonged to each other. Rick could protect her, keep her safe. Why did she have to take everything that came out of his mouth in the wrong way? Putting words into his mouth, words he never uttered!

She didn’t need to go out to the runs to prove her worth, to earn her keep, because yes! She had him now! What good Rick was for if he couldn’t even do that? Couldn’t even keep his family safe, secure, and fed?

They were his family. His son, his daughter, and Amanda. The woman he loved. It was that simple now. Only it wasn’t. Not with Amanda.

He wanted to take care of her, not because she was spreading her legs for him or let him fuck her ass! How could she even say that? Look at him in the eye and ask him that? Tell him stuff they both knew it wasn’t like that! Or was it? Was there truly a shed of truth in every joke? Her anger made her shield lowered and made her speak how she truly felt without censoring?

Did she feel their relationship was like trading sex for safety and stability? Was that why she was having cold feet?

Rick stopped the water and left the shower. He should go out and make a patrol. Keep his hands busy or else his mind was going to wander into the places Rick didn’t want to. He patted himself dry and started wearing his clothes, but even though he tried, he couldn’t keep them off.

Lori had tried to use sex a couple of times to seduce him to make things right between them before she gave in and lost her hope. In those times the sly voices used to ask him if that was what Lori did with Shane, too, tried to use sex and affection to bind the man to herself out of fear and shock of what had happened to the world. Rick wasn’t naïve. Lori had possibly done what most women in her place would have done. Even Shane had admitted that Carl and Lori had kept him alive, looking after his family gave him a purpose to survive.

In those times, there were other voices in him too…about Judith, and knowing the truth, Rick wondered—

His hands fisted, Rick kicked off the vanity’s stool, bending down with a scream he kept inside. It didn’t matter. His baby girl. It didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything at all.

And Amanda was just being her usual self, running away when things became too hot to handle for her, throwing out tantrums, lashing out like a wild cat. She’d talked into Joan to keep Gorman steady, made the nurse seduce the asshole because she believed the asshole’s pros were coming longer than his cons, but she wasn’t playing the same game here. No. Not with him.

It wasn’t that Amanda wasn’t capable of such an act, no. Amanda’s loyalty…and courage ran thick. There was no line she wouldn’t dare to cross if she believed she didn’t have any choice. When they took Beth, she’d begged those animals to rape her instead. Some nights Rick didn’t sleep because his dreams were still plagued by those memories.

They weren’t only words. Even in her despair, Amanda was fully prepared to get on with it that night. Rick knew she was fully prepared to let all of those men rape her if it would keep Beth safe from them.

The paths Amanda would take when she deemed necessary sometimes scared Rick. She’d demanded they went back to Grady after Maggie was bitten, ready to offer herself to Gorman to make Maggie have a chance with the blood transfusion, another moment Rick didn’t ever want to remember.

In the end, the biggest reason why Rick let Father Gabriel go had been partly that, too, that the priest had come forward with his clinic that finished that scary idea that Amanda going back to Grady.

Some nights Rick had shivers thinking how he could’ve stopped her if she decided to do it, too, Dawn’s clear threat to tie her down to get her vaccine when she refused to take hers echoing in the dark corridors of his mind. He’d taken the words as Dawn’s menacing personality then, but now Rick didn’t know. Amanda could get pretty…handful to handle.

Tucking his feet into his sturdy boots for the last, Rick prepared himself for a new day and his labor. He was going to deal with it when Amanda came back from the supply run, and for Judith, nothing had changed.

Rick had still two kids; one son and one baby daughter. Between the last morning and this morning, nothing had changed as far as he was concerned. He just had to make sure now it stayed that way.

That blood test shouldn’t exist for anyone else.

Carl was still having a hard time with Lori’s loss, still wanting to go back to the prison just to find her picture. Rick couldn’t let his son find out what had happened. It wasn’t his children’s burden; they’d started that mess. Carl and Judith had to stay out of it.

Rick should have a talk with Pete Anderson, make the man perfectly understand what would happen if his tongue started loosening after a drink or two. The notion of his children’s welfare depending on the secrecy of a drunk snobbish asshole made the small hair over his neck stand out, but Rick suppressed it down.

As long as they understood each other, Pete Anderson and he were good. If not—

Rick opened the door and headed downstairs. He saw Glenn waiting for him out on the porch and smiled a bit when Rick saw him in uniform.

“Looks good—” he commented, his mood bettering more seeing Glenn like this. Everything was going to be good.

Rick was going to make sure of that, too. “I need to go to the infirmary you start the patrol—" he told the younger man. “I’ll find you when I’m done.”

Glenn nodded. “Okay.”

Rick quickly stepped down. Joan was still inside the kitchen with Daryl and Carol and Mika. He wanted to finish his talk with the surgeon before she came to the infirmary for her private lessons.

Leaving the house, Rick marched to the infirmary. Early in the morning, the infirmary was empty. When Rick barged into, the surgeon stood up from his study table across the room in the corridor, all curtains pulled out at each side of the room, showing off empty beds.

Stopping in front of the desk, Rick braced his hands on the edge of the table, leaning over. “Where’s the blood test?”

“I—I’m sorry?”

“Where. is. the. blood. test?” Rick repeated this time rougher, making the punctuation between the words more prominent with glare after each word.

The man pulled out his first drawer coolly and took a sheet report. Rick took it and quickly roamed his eyes over it. Judith Grimes. Blood type: B Positive, which told everyone knew how genetics worked would dictate there was something wrong with that.

Not anymore.

Rick fisted his hand, crumbling the sheet. “This never happened—” he spoke, still glaring at the doctor as his fingers fitted the crumbled sheet into his fist, his knuckles turning to white. “Judith is A Positive like me and Carl.”

The doctor squinted his eyes, his cool shock shifting into annoyance. “Deanna—”

“I don’t care—” Rick cut him off, propping his hands back on the desk’s edge, his hand still holding the sheet. He was going to have to burn it. Destroy it. That thing didn’t exist anymore.

“Judith is A Positive. And if I ever hear even a single mention of otherwise from anyone—” Rick leaned even further. “I cut your vocal cords first before I kill you.”

Pete Anderson stared back at him, but Rick saw the man swallowing lowly for a second even with the brave bravado he put on. “Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, we do—” the doctor replied coolly, straightening back, his composure turning stiff again. “You seem to have problems with your wife’s infidelity, but psychology has never been my strongest suit,” the man continued as Rick’s jaw moved, staring back at the man. “I suggest you see Denise.”

Rick arched an eyebrow as the surgeon turned aside, picking up a book from his desk before he walked around, a dismissive gesture that Rick read loud and clear. “For your daughter’s parentage, I really couldn’t have cared less even if I wanted.”

His eyes trailed after the man, trying to gauge his reactions further, if another kind of urging was needed, or when it would be needed. If Pete Anderson couldn’t understand him, Rick could see where this would lead.

If Rick killed the man, then he would have no other chance other than taking over the town. He wasn’t going to lose this place. Yet, he couldn’t do it without giving his people a reason. Perhaps he could tell Amanda the truth about Judith, but Rick suspected she wouldn’t understand why Rick had to do it. Moreover, she would never let him start a coup because of it.

Rick just needed that blood test gone.

The door to the infirmary opened at that moment. “Rick!

The cry echoed in the room as Rick swept on his heels, to see Glenn standing over the threshold. Outside, the door opened, he could hear thrilling shrieks as if someone was crying, a woman.

“What happened?” He wanted to add ‘this time’ again like in the prison but held it back. He hadn’t even started destroying any flower beds today yet!

“It’s Carl—” Glenn announced, and Rick closed his eyes, swearing under his breath. Was it—was it really starting again? “He ran out—” Rick hissed, already running out of the infirmary. “And he took Clarice with him.”

Rick stopped on the porch. “What?”

Pete Anderson followed them out as Glenn started explaining while they ran towards the shrieks. “It was Beatrice first who noticed it,” Glenn said as the same moment Rick realized the cries were coming from the direction of Beatrice’s house. “Ron said she wasn’t in the school—”

“Ron didn’t leave, right?” Anderson asked, and Glenn nodded at the man.

“Yeah. He was the one who told Beatrice Clarice didn’t come to the school.”

“You looked for Carl?” Rick asked, still running towards the Reese sisters’ residence. Rick could see a crowd had already gathered.

 “Yeah. We looked everywhere. But they aren’t in the town.”

“Goddammit!”

Beatrice was knelt in the middle of her dug garden, weeping with long wails, her face hidden behind her hands. Daryl, Carol, and Joan ran from the street as more people came too. Deanna was already with the young heiress.

The old woman turned to him. “Rick?” she questioned, staring at him.

“We prepare a search party quickly—” he replied, waving his hand at Daryl as soon as the tracker came to his side.

“What’s happened, man?” his friend whispered to him as lifting her head, Beatrice looked at them.

Pete was the first one who had walked to her from their group, alert and quick. “Bee. Calm down—” the surgeon told her soothingly, holding her shoulder, but Rick suddenly couldn’t be sure how much of it was actually from the man’s profession or their past.

“Clarice…” Beatrice cried out again, shaking Anderson’s hand off her shoulder, and turned to Rick. “She went out! My little sister—OUT! WHY DID CARL TAKE HER?”

Why the hell Carl escaped again was his question, too, but Beatrice didn’t need to know that.

Rick walked toward her and knelt beside her. “Beatrice, Carl knows the woods well,” he tried to soothe down breaking down the girl, too, reaching out his hand towards her but not touching, keeping his tone firm. “We’ll go out and bring—” he stopped in the middle of his sentence, staring over the young woman’s shoulder because ahead of him he spotted their runaways as they walked over to them gingerly.

Standing up, Rick stared at his son, his jaw clenching even with the relief of seeing his boy again. Carl’s expression became clouded as he realized they were caught. Clarice’s face whitened too as she stared at her sister.

“Carl—” Rick called out stonily as they approached closer, his stern gaze on the teenagers.

“Dad—”

“It's my fault, Sheriff Grimes—” Clarice suddenly trotted to him almost jogging, bursting the words. “I dared Carl to climb up the wall. And he did.” Rick stared at the girl as she stared at him back with teary eyes before they started leaking off. “I—I’m so sorry. I just wanted to see. Beatrice would never let me!”

“CLER!” Beatrice jerked up to her feet with a scream. “WHY did you want to go out?”

“Because I WANTED to see it with my own eyes!” she screamed back at her sister, turning aside, and Rick felt a headache crawling up to his temples. “And I did. It was disgusting!”

Her words only made her older sister cry more. “Carl killed it with his sword—” the girl added. “In one sweep!” Rick even sensed awe in her last words.

Deanna finally cut between them. “That’s enough. Clarice—” She looked at the teenage girl. “You’ll see Denise.” Clarice’s eyes widened, opening her mouth, but Deanna shook her head, cutting her off even before she started. “I warned you, young lady. Go now. We’ll talk later.”

Her lips clenching with fury, her tears suddenly stopping, the teenager turned on her heels, two-inch heels, Rick noticed with an inward sigh before she headed towards the porch. Deanna turned to Carl. Not interrupting the leader as he understand it was Carl’s turn now, Rick simply waited.

“And you, young man—” Deanna warned, fixing a finger at his son. “If you ever so much entertain yourself with such an idea again, you join her too.”

Carl nodded quickly, all too quickly. “Yes, ma’am.”

Rick almost scoffed. It looked like threatening people to be sent to Denise was like a ‘seeing the principal room’ in Deanna’s hands. Deanna turned with a tired sigh to Beatrice, who was still crying. “Beatrice, please, stop crying now.”

Deanna threw at him a last look before they all started wandering away. It became such a bizarre moment that for a second Rick didn’t know if he should laugh or get mad. “Son—” he called out to Carl at the end, waving his hand. “Let’s make a patrol.” He pointed at the wall with his head. “You better show me where you climbed up the wall.”

Carl nodded, tagging along with him as they started making their round. “It’s where you found Cinnamon—” he replied. “We climbed over the tree and then jumped down. You can’t reach the tree from outside, though, so don’t worry.”

Rick arched his brows, slanting a sideways look. “How did you get in?”

“From the front gate—” Carl answered with a small shrug. “When they saw us outside, they didn’t question how we got out.” Rick made a sound. Carl turned to look at him. “How did you find out?”

There was an annoyance in his tone this time, so Rick thought he’d calculated to get back to the town before anyone would have noticed. “Ron. He went to Beatrice when Clarice didn’t show up at the school. They looked for her, then noticed you were missing too.”

His son’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything. “So…dare?” Rick questioned.

Carl’s cheeks flushed. “Um.”

They made it to the warehouse’s yard where Rick had found Cinnamon, and where they sat under the tree in the front garden at their first real night in the town, having a talk and doing much more. His thoughts briefly moved over to her, knowing she was out now without him, but steeling his mind, Rick looked at his son.

He made a gesture towards the teenager and they settled under the same tree. “Carl, I know you’re having…difficult times,” Rick started, placing his writs over his bent-up knees. “But I need you to understand the full consequences of your actions. I understand you wanted to…impress Clarice, but that’s one of those things you promised me not to do anymore. What if something happened to you or her?”

“I know, Dad. I’m sorry.”

“No more kid stuff, Carl—” Rick warned again.

“I—just needed to be out.”

His words reminded Rick of Amanda. Did she feel the same need, too? She said she had to be out. Perhaps it wasn’t even only about to prove her worth. But no one was keeping her inside. They still could leave. Together. Rick trusted her to have his back like no one. She’d come back to look for him even when everything turned into hell in the prison, didn’t leave him behind. Took care of him. Was it so wrong that Rick wanted to do the same, too?

“I understand that—” Rick went on, looking at his son again. “But not like this. I’m taking you out. You’re coming with us. But Clarice can’t be your responsibility.”

“She wanted to see it, dad.”

Rick shook his head before repeated, “Not like this. We’re gonna talk about it later after Amanda’s classes finish.”

Carl nodded.

“So Clarice and you…?” Rick asked after a brief pause, feeling the condom in his pocket that Amanda had given to him for Carl. “Beth told Amanda you were kissing in Beatrice’s car in the dinner party—” Rick finally said it out loud. “Is it correct?”

His son’s cheeks flushed even worse than before. “Um. Yeah.”

“Do you like her?”

Carl bowed his head. “I—I think. She—I don’t understand her fully.” Rick laughed. “But I think she likes me too.”

Rick remembered the young girl’s expression when she exclaimed Carl killed the walker, feeling a surge of pride for his son, letting out a laugh. “Welcome to the world of men, son,” he commented, holding his boy’s shoulder, still laughing. “We can never fully understand women.”

Carl smiled at that, too, bowing his head again “Sometimes it sounds like she’s making fun of me.”

Rick nodded, his expression stiffening a bit. The thing was that Clarice Reese came from a whole different world than Carl had, and not only because she’d never seen how it was outside. The Reese girls had been pampered in the ways Carl had never been. It worried Rick a bit, but he was glad Carl at least had someone around his age to discover the first steps of young adulthood.

Which brought Rick again to the same pending situation. “Carl—” He schooled his expression and his voice into his best firm but soft tone. “I think it’s time we make one of those father-and-son talks.”

Craning his neck up, Carl looked at him in question. “The birds and bees talk—” Rick elaborated quickly, seeing his son’s look, a bit color reaching up over to his neck, too.

“Uh—they taught it to us in the biology class, Dad—” Carl muttered. Rick knew. At twelve, the schools had started teaching the kids about puberty and reproduction, but this was real life now, not a classroom.

“I know—” he replied with the same soft firmness. “But school and real life are different. You’re becoming a young man, and that’s never easy.”

Carl’s cheeks flushed again. “Dad, if.it’s.about.mornings—” he blurted out quickly, swallowing the words before he took a breath and spoke slower. “I-uh—I was thinking perhaps I should move to the other house’s garage as Daryl did.”

That took Rick by surprise. “You want to move to the garage?”

“Y-you said before I need personal space. Perhaps you were right. I—I wouldn’t mind a room, I think. And I know you want to spend time with Amanda.” He made a pause, looking at Rick. “You didn’t come to bed last night. You both didn’t. You stayed out. I don’t want that.”

His chest swelling, Rick felt proud of his son again, for different reasons as relief found him more. They were going to be okay. He knew. “Thank ya, son. You don’t need to do it if you don’t want to, but I think it’s best for all of us.”

“No. It’s okay.”

“Carl—” Rick told his son because he wanted to make sure. Because he needed to make sure. He couldn’t let Carl think otherwise. Amanda had claimed Carl knew it, but Rick still had to tell him. “You know I care, right? I care about you and your sister more than anything in this world. And I would do anything—anything for you two.”

“I know that Dad—” Carl finally admitted, and something lifted off Rick’s chest further. “I know it. It just—Judy…I can’t take the thought that she will never see mom.”

“That hurts me, too,” Rick admitted, too. “Hurts me very badly, Carl. But your mother wouldn’t want you to endanger yourself like that. There’s still us. There’s still you. We’ll tell Judy about her. Judy will know her mother. Each time she looks at you, she will see your mother.” Rick brushed his hand gently over the edge of his son’s hair under his hat.

“You have your mother’s hair, son.” He tackled the teenager under his arm, a move Carl protested, his hat falling over. Rick shuffled through his growing hair. “Your eyes are mine, but the rest of you is hers.”

Carl laughed, trying to get out of under his arm. “Dad—”

Rick let him go. Carl stuffed his shirt first then his hat and his hair Rick had messed up. Rick eyed his son then he straightened up himself, too. “No more kid stuff—” he warned once more, his hand going to his pocket. It was time.

Rick took the condom out of his pocket and handed it to his son. Carl stared at it wildly. “Dad?”

“You have to be careful—” Rick remarked with no trace of playfulness anymore. “You’re not a child anymore. If you start doing it, you always have to wear one—” he went on as Carl still stared at the condom Rick left over his lap.

“You might feel you can hold back, don’t risk it. Never. And there’re diseases. Did they talk to ya about ‘em in the school, right?” Rick wasn’t sure if he could handle right now a talk about STDs too.

Carl nodded but sputtered out the words the same. “D-dad, w-we just kissed. I swear.”

“I know. Yesterday you kissed. Today you asked for your own room, tomorrow you’ll start wanting to do much more. We all were there, Carl. We all were.”

The condom slipped inside Carl’s pocket as Rick eyed it silently. He pulled up to his feet. “Let’s go—” he tilted his head. “The construction team waits for us.”

Carl shook his head, following his example, standing up, too. “I told Beth I’m going to work on the training field so they couldn’t stay behind on their schedule.”

“Do you need help?” Rick asked as they started walking to Amanda’s training field beside the warehouse’s grounds.

Carl turned aside to him. “Flowerbeds?”

“Daryl and Abraham can deal with it for today. I help you.” Abraham was still eager to finish everything as soon as possible so that they could leave without any further delay after Deanna’s other team came back. Rick still didn’t know.

“Dad?” Carl called out to him as they arrived at the field and bent down to pick up the shovels. “I like being here. You?”

Rick let his eyes roamed over the town for a second before he turned to his son. “I like anywhere you and your sister can be safe, Carl.”

 

Notes:

Whoa, I finally made it to this chapter, yay. Rick threatening Pete, starting a hell of a problem in the very near future. I think this's also the chapter where the teenager pairings became clearer as we had a Carl POV after chapters.
The next chapter will cover Amanda and Beth's side with the supply run, and the last ones will deal with their return. I said I was going to update 3 chapters for this arc, but I noticed, heh, this arc actually has 4 chapters, so tomorrow hopefully, I will manage to put up another two.
So, Carl is moving out, too, so hehe, I can move Amanda to the master bedroom, I mean, if only she *lets* Rick take care of her, uh. I don't read much Rick/OC, but most of the time, I see Rick trying to teach his romantic interest how to fight and survive in ZA, the poor guy has the exact opposite with Amanda here, trying to settle down her. lol.

Chapter 19: 'Leading isn’t for me'

Summary:

On their first supply run together, Amanda feels conflict leaving Alexandria. Beth wants her sister back. Then the dead arrive...

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Before she made it to the gate, Amanda went to the armory to retrieve her gun. Her thoughts were still swirling around in her head, but she steeled herself not to think anything but the mission ahead.

A part of her, that nagging part was still snickering at her that she’d fucked it up yet again, but Amanda silenced it down, too. She had to get ready. She couldn’t go on a supply run with only clothes on her back. She bowed her head and checked herself. Her clothes were rumpled in the sleep as how they’d been in the woods, and the fact that she hadn’t been sleeping in her clothes for two weeks briefly crossed over her preoccupied mind.

One of the many things she’d stopped doing since Alexandria.

You don’t need to go out.

It was her job. What she was good for. Doing legwork. Doing shit, taking out the trash. Rick was doing his job, so she had to. She couldn’t just sit around and dawdle. It wasn’t even about what she wanted because she still didn’t damn know what the hell she wanted, but what she needed to. She had to earn her keep, make herself useful. Rick’s protectiveness was nice, but this was different. She couldn’t let him…provide for her just because they happened to have sex.

It felt wrong. Something was clawing at her edges with the thought, setting off an alarm off inside her, all her senses alert. The truth was that Aiden hadn’t asked her to go out last week, but Amanda had requested. She wanted to go out. She needed to be out. That was her job. Prowl, scavenge, kill rotters.

She had to get her shit back together. She was slipping, missing things. She’d missed Beth’s carvings, and God knew what else. Her words made Rick very angry again, Amanda had seen it clearly in his eyes before she left the garage, but she didn’t know. She couldn’t function like this.

By now the old Amanda should’ve already tested Deanna a few times to gauge her reactions, push her boundaries, survey people, try to figure out who was in alliances with whom, to whom to approach, from who to stay away, who were nice, who could be a problem. She could’ve already prepared a dossier in her head just like Deanna’s.

That was how Amanda functioned. She studied, collected data, tested, and evaluated. That was how she survived, not like this. Not going on dates or sneaking away from her duties for lustful quickies.

She shook her head again, walking to the armory. She couldn’t let this go on anymore. Last night, she didn’t know. She’d just slipped again, perhaps, looking at his eyes as they did it like that, holding his hand. She must’ve carried away. In the woods, she’d wanted to be with him so much, wanted to try this, and Amanda still did, she still wanted him, but she felt that girl in the woods was a stranger to her now. Perhaps she really wasn’t cut for relationship stuff, couldn’t be together with anyone.

Together. The word echoed in her. She almost shook her head, trying to shoo it away from her as she stepped into the armory and started checking the warehouse’s shelves. She was going to need supplies. She literally had nothing on herself right now other than her knives. She needed to go back to the house and prepare, but Rick must’ve returned too, and honestly, Amanda didn’t want to see anyone right now.

As she passed over the radio base beside the entrance door, her eyes roamed over the shelves. Could she prepare a bag here? Oliva would certainly let her, right? “Olivia—” she called out to the supply manager. “Are you here?”

The curvy, dark-haired woman trotted out of the back of the house. “Hey, morning—” the woman greeted her. “Came for the supply run, too?”

Amanda nodded. The others certainly had come to retrieve their firearms too, which reminded her again she was running late. “Yeah—” she confirmed with a small nod, still checking the shelves. “Can I have a few supplies too?” she asked. “Do you have a bag?”

That earned her a confused look from the manager. “Uh—yeah.”

“I washed mine—” Amanda lied quickly, rather lamely.

“Take whatever you want—” Olivia permitted before she turned to walk back to the armory part of the house. “I’m gonna bring your gun. Do you want a rifle too?”

“That would be nice.”

Olivia came back with a black backpack, slung over one shoulder, and with her Glock and a Norinco rifle. It was custom-made, black matte from its butt to the barrel, not wood like in the standard issue. Amanda took her gun first from the manager and after checking the magazine and safety, she tucked it back in her holster and took the rifle too. It was slightly lighter than the standard-issue, too, so Amanda welcomed it gladly.

It also felt good to have her weapons again, feeling their weight as if something else was clinking in her, her erratic thoughts dissipating more as she prepared for the run. She checked the rifle’s magazine, the safety bolt, then the scope, bringing it up over to her eye, a calmness settling in her. Slinging the rifle over her back, she tipped her head at Olivia. “Thank you.”

“Aiden said you’re going to look for seeds for the gardens—” Olivia remarked as Amanda started packing other items from the shelves.

“Yeah.”

“Bring me some basil seeds if you can manage?” the woman asked while Amanda eyed the cans. “The organic market should have a lot of seeds. Chia would be nice, too.”

“Yeah, sure—” Amanda muttered absently as she picked up only two cans from the shelves: beans and tuna. It wasn’t going to be a long run as the organic market store was just outside Alexandria, and Aiden had said they were going to make a small sweep after checking the market. They were expected to return before the afternoon, but one could never be enough prepared in these days. Alexandria’s radio base would keep them stay in contact with each other, too, a luxury Amanda had missed a lot.

Another canned food tumbled inside her backpack, then another as her stomach grumbled faintly, reminding her she hadn’t eaten anything for hours. “We want to try a sauce with fresh basil if it’s possible,” the woman went on as Amanda bobbed her head absently.

Tuning out the woman’s chatter about pasta machines and one of the ladies of the town, Amanda continued checking the shelves. She needed water, too, but she couldn’t find it on the shelves as Alexandria drunk tap water.

“Do you have an empty bottle?” she asked Olivia, turning to the other side of the warehouse, cutting off the woman.

She threw a roll of rope inside her pack seeing them in the tools section. The real tools and equipment were in the maintenance building, but they still kept some equipment here for daily usage, which Amanda was gladly packing now. She stuffed a flashlight, two flares, even a whistle in her bag, and added a pair of worker gloves, too, seeing on the shelves.

She mused if she could find leather gloves for Carl as he started using the sword. Amanda used to wear fingerless black leather gloves at Grady, the very first item she’d lost from her uniform. They used to keep her hands relatively smoother, even though her palms weren’t soft. The thought reminded her how she’d felt looking at Carol while the older woman made shadow hand puppets on the wall in the barn, her eyes flickering over to her hands…You don’t need to be out.

Amanda jerked her head, turning her mind back on the business. She was going to keep her eyes open, looking one for Carl. He needed a pair. She eyed a chisel and diagonal pliers and tucked them at her belt, one leg of pliers in her back pocket. She filled the empty bottles Olivia procured with tap water as the woman watched her silently while Amanda finished packing.

The questions were in her dark eyes, but Amanda ignored them too. She left the armory with a nod and a small thank you. She walked around the building enough to be out of sight before she made another pit stop.

Sliding the backpack over her free shoulder that didn’t have the rifle, she quickly unzipped it, kneeling beside the wall, and took out the water first. She didn’t drink or eat anything perhaps since last afternoon. She’d gone to the bell tower in the afternoon then stayed up there for six hours, then spent an hour or so walking around the pond before she went back to the house around supper time, then stayed in the garage.

She didn’t care for food; she was habituated to hunger for longer periods than that, but she was thirsty. She almost finished her water bottle before she reminded herself that she was going to need it on the run.

Stuffing the half-full bottle back in the backpack, she opened the canned beans and ate them quickly. Starting the day eating beans had never been her preference, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She threw in her mouth one of the minted candies she’d found on the shelves, feeling at least much better with the freshness.

As she zipped the bag, she thought if she were exaggerating, that she should just go back to the house and prepare with decency, change her clothes, take a shower, wash her face, brush her teeth. She was being overdramatic, hunched over in a corner in secret, eating beans and mincing minted candies.

Drawing up, Amanda sighed before she shouldered her bag again. She checked the rifle at her side, all the weights on her somehow had started feeling odd, that clinking feeling leaving her. It’d been a while since the last time she’d carried this much firearm and supplies.

It felt weird.

Amanda shooed away that thought, too, and started walking to the gate.

She could only wish now Beth kept her mouth shut, just told them she was coming or something for her absence. Amanda schooled her expression into coolness. She told herself it didn’t matter. Didn’t matter what the others thought about her and Rick, but even then, the questions were raised in her.

If she really did what Rick suggested, stayed inside, and told them she didn’t need to go out, that she didn’t need to do this stuff anymore just because she had Rick now, who would earn her keep in her stead, then what that truly meant? What was really her…affiliation to Rick?

Amanda didn’t know that, but just like had always been in her life, she knew what she wasn’t.

She wasn’t the mother of his children. She wasn’t his wife. They were just two people trying to know each other better while fucking each other’s brains out. Her feelings for him heightened so much, her emotions became so intense while they had sex, but perhaps it was just sex, too. Sometimes you just got carried away in the throes of passion, crazy hormones messing up with you, feelings multiplied.

She almost shook her head at the thought. No, what they had, it wasn’t just sex or damn hormones, no, it wasn’t. They had more. Amanda just couldn’t figure out that more.

Her confused musings stopped when Amanda saw the gate. She stared at her new team, waiting for her beside two vehicles in front of the gate. Even at the first glance, Amanda recognized the shiny black car and understood Aiden had brought their car Amanda had seen in their garage when Rick and she had sex at the dinner party. The fancy Chrysler 300 LX.

Amanda held back a sigh, walking towards them. Way to keep a low profile on a supply run. They might as well bring Beatrice’s Lamborghini the next time. Aiden was leaning over the car’s door, eyeing her openly. Beth stood beside him, having a cross expression over her face. Amanda swallowed down a gulp. The other vehicle was an old Ford jeep. In front of it, Nicholas, Jeffrey, and Richards were standing. Amanda tried not to think for how long they’d been waiting for her.

Ignoring the other men, Amanda approached Beth and Aiden. Her blue eyes flicked over to Amanda. “Nice of you to join us—” the teenager bristled crisply. “We’ve been waiting.”

Amanda jerked her head in a half nod. “Sorry—” She turned to Aiden. “You’re all ready to go?”

He patted his rifle. “Locked and loaded.”

Amanda nodded. “Let’s go.”

“A’right, let’s move out—” He motioned towards Beth and them. “Ladies. You’re with me.”

Not that Amanda was surprised. She walked towards the car, going for the passenger seat. She settled in the seat, taking the seatbelt, turning her head aside back to Beth. “Did you pack everything?” she asked.

Beth nodded crisply again. “Yeah.”

Amanda almost asked for her backpack so she could check it herself, but she supposed that would get Beth more cross with her. She should’ve done it before, like last night, prepare it with her, help her to get ready. Not what she did last night. The way she was bent over the workbench flashed over her eyes for a split second, Rick ramming in her ass, holding her hand tightly before she jerked it away from her mind as if it burned her.

“You ready?” Aiden asked, turning on the motor, pressing the start/stop button of the fancy car.

“Yeah—” Amanda brushed it off, trying to cool herself down.

“How do you feel, Beth?” Aiden asked, throwing her a glance at the teenager from the rear window as they drove out of the gate. “Jitters?”

“I’m fine,” Beth clipped, turning her head aside to punctuate the bite in her words.

Closing her eyes for a second, resting her head on her hand, her elbow propped at the car’s side, Amanda held back a tired sigh. Aiden rode towards the blockade at the intersection. All of them were silent now, Beth sulking in the backseat, Aiden just driving. They’d passed through the unattended opening a few minutes later, the spot they were going to set up their checkpoint after her classes were done.

Thank god for small mercies the organic market was close to Alexandria, just outside the roadblock. Amanda tried to decide when she could talk with Beth, trying to gauge her annoyance. They needed to talk about those trees, but perhaps it’d be better if they made that talk in a bit friendlier environment than a supply run. It wasn’t her usual stuff, not what she was accustomed to, but something was bugging her now. Perhaps they just should make another girls night, do their hair, put on makeup, and…talk?

Aiden took his handheld radio and clicked on the talk button, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Pull over.”

Tucking the radio back into his vest, he parked beside the curb as Amanda eyed the organic market store. Drawn to the motor sound, two limping rotters came up around the corner, but before she could react, Beth jumped out of the car and put one of them down.

Aiden raised an eyebrow at her in the car. “She’s quick.”

With a sigh, Amanda stepped out of the car and killed the second one as the others joined them. Her eyes quickly wandering around, she checked the desolated streets and sidewalks.

She eyed the neglect, the potholes, the faded lines on the asphalt, the cracks in the roads, dried grass and weeds filling inside, the sidewalks and pavements littered with dust, dirt, and garbage, the fallen leaves scattered around, dead bodies left behind; everything deserted, left behind, windows broken, or shutters closed, no living soul.

On these occasions, no living soul was also good news, so Amanda tried not to get spooked by it.

They stalked toward the store gingerly, holding out their knives. As the area was too silent, they should keep it that way as long as they could, not getting trigger friendly. She’d classified especially Nicholas and Jeff as trigger friendly from her previous mission with them, but Amanda wouldn’t let it this time. The worse they didn’t even have good shots, just kept shooting, bullets ricocheting around in hopes that they could make a shot to the head.

Amanda recalled their tally bet, Nicholas insisting on doing it despite having a bad aim, to win the bet, and Aiden letting them. Amanda hadn’t liked it even then, but now, with Beth?

That kind of stupidity was a definite ‘no’ today. Amanda always advised her pupils not to bother themselves trying to make a shot for the head if they couldn’t aim it on a moving target, but just try for legs or some other down part that would get the rotter down so they could deal with it or at least slow it. A headshot on a moving target wasn’t a piece of cake, and it certainly wasn’t something to make a bet.

Nicholas turned to Aiden. Amanda was walking at his other side, as Beth taking her left side. Jeff and Richards were coming behind them, having their six.

Even with the shutters open, the windows of the store were still intact. It was one of the reasons why they wanted to check in the first place. The store with an unbroken door and windows. It was sort of understandable that Alexandrian’s whereabouts were almost untouched, fallen into neglect and decadence, but not looted or raided, a fact that still awed Amanda.

Even the fact that the Alexandrian’s had left a store like this so close to them unchecked for years was mind-blowing, but then again, they’d never really had to look for supplies to survive. Sometimes Amanda couldn’t even understand why Deanna insisted on sending supply teams out other than to keep in touch with the rest of the world as much as she could manage.

Amanda still couldn’t decide it was brave or stupid. Aaron had stopped going out for recruitments after they came as Deanna had agreed that nineteen new people trying to adjust into the town life was already enough without bringing more in their folds right now, even though Amanda wasn’t sure what Rick might think when Aaron was cleared off for recruitments once more. She was grateful that they’d brought them in, even though they needed a sheriff, and Amanda wanted to help other people too, but bringing new people each time was a risk.

But they were problems for later, today they had this.  

Amanda looked at the store again. Rotters might be still inside, or perhaps the owner or some other people had already cleared out in a…peaceful way, closed the windows and doors, and turned off the lights behind their backs before they left the place forever.

Only one way to find out.

She stopped at the window and tapped the metal frame with the butt of her knife, knocking on the door to see who was going to come to answer. The others dutifully waited too, their postures alert and ready, not looking playful for once, a sight Amanda took it gratefully.

Her suspicions about tagging Beth along with them almost found her again, but Amanda didn’t let them blur her mind any further. It was already too late. The teenager was here, and they needed to do this. Just as that the thought appeared in her mind, Rick replied: Amanda, you don’t have to do this.

Something seized in her chest as if her heart strung, a twinge throbbing where her heart should be, because as she stood in front of the store, waiting for the dead to show up, a part of her suddenly just wished to be back in Alexandria and continued to sleep in Rick’s arms, even on that ridiculous cardboard over the hard floor.

She wanted Rick to turn her on her back just like he did this morning, but instead of a studious frown, she wanted him to look at her with those eyes, not crazily intense, but warm eyes, with a small, kind smile tugged at his lips as he reached out to cup her cheek before he slowly dipped his head to kiss her. They would have sex then again, she supposed, just lazy, idle morning sex, no rush, no crazy lust, or just lay in each other’s arms, enjoying each other’s company.

The problem was that even though a part of her still wanted to have that as she waited in front of the store between her legs sore, her ass still fluttering in that weird way when she was in the town, she wanted to be out. Sometimes it really felt suffocating as if she couldn’t breathe, the walls around them too tall, damn too tall.

And there was no sound. They waited for another full minute before Aiden turned towards the glass door. He brought the side of his head on the surface to listen closer and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“All right—” Amanda pulled back from the corner she’d taken cover. “Let’s get inside.”

Aiden nodded, reaching out to the glass door’s metallic handle, but it didn’t bulge in.

“Must be locked from inside—” Nicholas reasoned.

“Let me see it—” Amanda took a step between them, approaching the door.

“You're good at picking locks, aren’t you?” Aiden’s second in command asked, his voice dry as Amanda bent down over the lock.

She let the words wash over her, didn’t react. Everyone was also aware that Deanna’s garage was locked when Rick and she had broken into it.

“Amanda is good with a lot of stuff,” the sly reply came from Beth though when she possibly realized Amanda wasn’t going to. “You should enroll in her class when it starts. Perhaps you might pick up some things, too.”

Amanda smiled as the lock yielded to her clip, and she heard a click. She drew up and stepped back to leave the way to Aiden as she was still a guest in his team. She wasn’t going to overstep anything today, causing a rift between them. That wasn’t why she was here. She just didn’t want them to act like idiots.

The dark-haired man nudged it with a brief touch, turning aside to open the way. “Ladies first—"

She scoffed, but unholstering her gun, she decided to go in like the cop she was. The rifle was on her back, but a gun was always sleeker in a situation like this. Holding the gun with both hands in front of her in the defense position, she quickly walked in, taking cover at the corner to her left checking the right side of the store. Aiden threw himself to her right the next second as Beth, Nicholas and the other two followed their suit, moving further in the store.

It was a one-floor store, a long narrow rectangle with walls full of stalls and shelves. Some of those stalls were moveable with little rollers attached to their feet, which Amanda surmised had been used to bring them out to the open air in front of the shop.

Inside they were yet to see a rotter. Amanda could pick up that acute rotten smell of food quite starkly in the stale air, but there was no smell of death, only food turning bad, very, very bad.

They started coughing, waving their hands in the air in front of them, breathing the acidic smell into their lungs. “God. Smells as worse as lurkers—” Jeff muttered between coughs.

Amanda eyed the rotten unrecognizable veggies and fruits inside the stalls, feeling an odd sadness. She wished whoever had closed the store would have cleared it off that at least the food wouldn’t have gone bad that way when there were so many hungry people in the world now. Amanda still could remember the way the waistline of her pants had loosened over her hips in the woods, Rick making another hole in Carl’s belt. He’d done it for his duty belt long before than that, feeding Judith with acorn, water, and berries mash.

 “Nothing left—” Nicholas remarked, looking around the stalls as his comment brought Amanda out of her musings once more. She tried to focus again, shushing those thoughts away too.

“We’re not here for food. We’re here for seeds,” she countered. Fancy organic food stores always did, sometimes even had seeds for veggies for the people who want to grow their food as a hobby. Even though the townspeople were throwing a fit because they were digging up gardens to do the exact same, Alexandria looked like just the right place for organic health enthusiasts. Even the Reese sisters had the same vibe. Perhaps their daddy had even built the place because of that. Who knew?

They started searching the whole place, but Amanda halted. Nicholas and Jeff were making a tornado around the room, throwing whatever they found around, making a mess further. She turned to Aiden and whispered to him. “Tell them to make less noise and less mess. They’re making it worse.”

Aiden gave her a look as if to ask; are you serious?

Amanda made out a frustrated sound. “The seeds packages are small. This place is a gold mine.  We can find a lot of stuff, but if they keep this up—” She tilted her head at their teammates as they scattered the rotten food around. “We’re gonna miss things.”

Her explanation paused Aiden. Everyone thought searching a place was easier if they just threw things away, but it was just the opposite. A thorough search had to be dealt with meticulously so you couldn’t disturb the scene or miss stuff. Amanda didn’t expect them to act as officers on a crime scene, but this way wouldn’t do it.

Aiden nodded and turned to his men. “Hey, less noise, less mess—” he repeated, his eyes flicking towards her with a smirk. “Don’t act like bulls in a china shop.”

Nicholas’s jaw clenched, shooting her a pissed glance as if he knew from where that order came up, but Amanda just turned around and started searching too. It was a small shop so under half of an hour, they were finished, no stone left unturned. Like she’d expected, they found a lot of packages of chia and flax seeds, even a few packages of basil seeds for Olivia. There were even stale crackers and chips, homemade granola packages, dried fruit, and nuts, even a couple of old magazines about gardening and planting, but no seeds for veggies.

They packed all of them in their backpacks, Amanda stuffing the magazines too for the last before she stood up. Today was a good day, she told herself. Alexandria had already a good cache with seeds and dried fruits left by the military, something Amanda appreciated greatly because each morning they were eating them for breakfast. She even used flax seeds to make her pancakes. They couldn’t find any seed to grow seedling for veggies, but they’d found a lot of other stuff. She could even feed them to Cinnamon with powdered milk, and Judith had started especially liking raisin.

“We’re gonna have to look other places,” she remarked slowly, giving the store the last look. “A garden center nursery perhaps—” she mused out. “Some of them used to sell seedlings for veggies that they grew themselves. They still might have seeds.”

“Is there one around here?” Beth asked, turning to Aiden. “Since we’re here, why don’t we look around?” Beth continued, asking.

“The girl got a point—” Nicholas told to Aiden.

Amanda narrowed her eyes, not liking the idea. They came here because they’d already made a recon, but going on an unclear supply run with a team she didn’t know how to function when she was more or less a guest star, tagging Beth along, without a recon first? No. She had already taken enough risks today.

“No,” she declined. “We only discussed this place. We should go back. We come back later and scout the area.”

“We can scout the area too now—” Beth cut in.

She shook her head. “No.”

Beth sent her a glare. “If you don’t want me here, why did you bring me here?” she bit off, realizing her reluctance.

Amanda felt a nail drilling through her head, feeling torn, the conflict in her getting heavier, and she didn’t know what to do. If she refused and demanded that they returned to the town, she knew she was going to lose the little peace she’d managed to broker with Beth in the last days. The turmoil was in her at full force, as all of her common sense warned her to say no again, but Beth was still looking at her with that look, and Amanda couldn’t open her mouth because the teenager girl was right, too, that if she wasn’t here with them now, Amanda could’ve gone to scout the area.

She didn’t want Beth here, taking unnecessary risk. Beth didn’t need to do it. Amanda, you don’t have to do this.

“I know a garden center. Greenstreet Gardens.” Jeffrey, who was a native Alexandrian, spoke over the words echoing in her. “My mother used to have a balcony garden, grow herself some cherry tomatoes and bell peppers. She used to pick up her supplies from there, saying they had a good selection for veggies too. We can check it out.”

Closing her eyes for a second, Amanda let out a breath, knowing that she couldn’t turn back from this unless she made everything worse with Beth. “Where’s it?” she questioned, wishing she wasn’t making a mistake.

“Three or so miles away from here.”

“It’s not that far—” Aiden said, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Let’s go check it out.”

They moved to the vehicles, leaving the store. This time Jeffrey and Nicholas took the lead as Aiden followed with them. The side road of the I-395 was relatively calmer, only a few lingering rotters trying to catch up with them, lurching forward, as they passed them by. Amanda angled her head up at the passenger seat and checked the sun. It was becoming late in the morning.

“We should check-in and let them know we’ll be running late—” she spoke, turning towards Aiden to jerk her head at his radio. If they had equipment, they’d better used it. She also had an inkling that Rick might send a search party after them if they ran late, and Amanda didn’t want another scene.

With a nod, Aiden reached out to the radio and flipped the talk button. “Olivia—” he called in. Amanda almost sighed at the direct language, wondering if Aiden had actually ever participated in ROTC classes.

Her thoughts spiraling, she also realized they hadn’t set up any ID challenge yet, too, another thing she and Rick both had missed. Her eyebrows knitted a bit with the thought as Aiden continued, “The organic market didn’t have what we’re looking for. We’re going to check another place Jeff knows. Please, inform all the necessary parties.”

Over the static, Amanda heard the reply a few seconds later after Aiden left the talk button. “Okay—” Olivia confirmed. “Good luck.”

As they lapsed into another silence, Amanda checked outside again, her thoughts drifting away, but this time towards at…the house. Judith must’ve already woken up and started making a fuss as Carol let her have her breakfast herself, Mika going to the school. A few days ago, Amanda had caught the girl trying to memorize the founding fathers’ names that Jessie Anderson had been trying to teach the kids.

The scene almost made her smile, because ever the curious one Judith had lunged herself over Mika’s study books and tore a piece of paper from her book by accident when Mika tried to pull it back from Judith. Both of them had started crying then, and it took Carol made Mika beet cookies and Amanda read her book, that one with the hungry caterpillar, to Judith to calm her down before she left for her shift. The memory also made that nameless thing in her chest seize again, Rick’s words turning in her mind, so when they arrived whereabouts the gardens, Amanda was almost glad and ready for whatever would take away her mind from the whirlwind confusion in her. She needed action. When hands are busy, the mind stays quiet.

It was one of the things the kind lady who used to make Christmas cookies for them used to say. She was one of those women who always kept herself busy with chores, hating sitting idly. Amanda had heard that she’d lost her son and her husband in a car accident. She didn’t understand then, but she did now.

Aiden stopped the car, pulling over the curb, and stepped out. Amanda turned backward in her seat and saw Beth looking outside. The garden nursery’s entrance had yielded to neglect and decadence much like everything else, but the teenager’s attention was on it, but her gaze was fixed at the men outside as they stood together in front of the garden nursery.

“Beth—” Amanda started, but before she could continue, Beth turned to her.

“Why do you do it?” she asked, her wide eyes blue eyes staring at her this time.

Amanda blinked. “Excuse me?” It was her job. Why everyone kept asking her that?

The question almost came to the tip of her tongue, but shaking her head, Beth continued. “Why do you let him do it?” The teenager jerked her head at Aiden. “You should lead this team, Amanda, not Aiden.”

Amanda looked at her with widened eyes.

Leading a team? Her?

No. Amanda was a foot soldier. They gave her orders, and she got them done. Dawn had once even claimed that the most genuine and frustrating thing about her was her lack of ambition, but that was what she’d always been. She didn’t even want to be a sergeant, had been dragging her feet with her exams so much sometimes she got afraid her superior officer would’ve thrown in the towel on her.

“This’s his team, his men—” she replied simply. “I don’t want to overstep. And I don’t want to lead anything.”

“Why?”

She shrugged, opening the door. “Leading isn’t for me.” Without another word, she stepped out of the car and lined up beside the men. She gazed at the deserted place, once must’ve been bursting with life and abundance, now just another dead place at the end of the world.

Amanda bowed her head and started checking her weapons. By the time she finished with the magazines, her mind had grown quiet.

# # #

Beth left the car, upset with Amanda’s answer. The older woman’s avoidance of responsibility didn’t sit well with Beth, disturbing her in a way Beth couldn’t fully explain. Beth didn’t like seeing Amanda liked this. She wanted to see the woman who asked back her why not when she’d refused to take a bath for Maggie’s funeral or her fierce determination to burn Noah’s hometown using the last of their fuel despite Abraham and the other’s refusal.

That was the woman Beth wanted to see. Amanda was the woman Beth wanted to be, one day. She was different from the girls in the stories. Her story was different. Amanda’s story was once upon a time there was a girl, and she lived.

Amanda was the one who had lived. Even after her heart stopped, she came back. She must be the one who should be in charge here. She should lead them now, not Aiden, and Beth was pissed at her because she was running from it. That wasn’t even the woman in the prison who had almost sacrificed herself to get them out of Grady, the woman who Beth had kept alive with her blood.

She wanted her sister back.

They were the last of the Greenes. No one comes back—

Her fingers found her palm, and she scratched her new wound with her fingertips over the cloth. It didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt anymore. Hurt doesn’t go away, you just make room for it. Beth slightly jerked her head. Andrea was wrong. You just didn’t make room for it, it became a part of you, just like your bones, muscles, veins. Hurt and death became a part of you, fill you up until your mouth.

It was how things were now. Beth’s story was going to be like that too. She was going to be the girl who lived. Once upon a time, there was a girl and she lived.

As they warily circled the garden store, Beth swore on it. Briefly, she wondered if Amanda’s reluctance had anything to do with Rick and their relationship. As much as Beth was happy for Amanda, and wanted her and Rick to be happy too, Beth also wanted back the woman who taught her how to read crime scenes.

Every contact leaves a trace, Amanda’s words echoed in her, her palm itching again. Beth had never understood how those words true, what they truly meant, not until she carved a circle on a tree. That was their contact, and it was leaving its mark. Beth was just making sure of it.

The backyard garden’s grass field had already turned to a sick yellow, the wooden stalls where once the flower seedling pots set on colorfully now stood dead and grey, dried off. The ambiance was better than the organic market, smelling at least better with the open air, even though they were under a half thatching dome. The managing office was already raided and looted, and they had come out here through the driveway that led to the backyard. At the other side of the field, away from the thatch roof, there was a large cabin, but right now, all of them were checking out the stalls. The whole place vaguely reminded Beth one of their neighbors’ farmer market where they’d used to sell their products from their farm.

Matthews’ farm had to be as broken as this place now, as broken as their farm. The old couple had been one of the first ones Otis and her father had brought to the barn. Beth could hardly remember those times now when she still had hope. When she still thought everything would be okay. Such innocence, such naivety, she found it hard to believe that girl had been once her. Once upon a time there was a girl, and she died…

That girl had died too. She first broke when an asshole opened their barn, then shattered when a blade fell on her father’s neck. What remained stayed in that car nailed on the hood, then Beth lost her forever in Shirewilt Estate, then buried her with Maggie under a tree upon a ridge.

Her eyes flickered, and Beth checked her only remaining sister, sensing her doing the same too. Her mossy green eyes were clouded, the sparking light in them dimmed like whenever she was worried. Sometimes Amanda was an open book, especially her eyes, her green irises changing color accordingly with her mood.

Beth moved through the stalls as they checked each of them, getting herself away from the others. Dutifully, Amanda followed, still scanning the grounds with hawkish eyes, glazed with worry and anxiety, but still sharp. There were no walkers yet, everything was quiet. Beth wondered how long their luck would hold today, touching a half-broken black seedling pots filled only dried earth now before she darted a look at the older woman.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s your mind?” she challenged when she caught Amanda doing the same again. Turning to her, Amanda gave her a full look. Beth sighed, bending down to check the bottom of the stall to see if there was something.

“I know you, Amanda,” she continued, checking the bottom shelf. “You’ve become as fidgety as when you try to avoid Rick—” When she stood up after seeing the bottom shelf empty, Amanda’s expression had turned more guarded like whenever someone brought up that issue. “C’mon, go ahead.”

The haze cleared off her eyes further as they lit brighter, and Beth liked it. Her spark was turning, and Beth wanted to see it. “I know what you’re doing,” her older sister remarked coolly, staring at her openly. “I saw the trees.”

Beth smiled, walking to another stall. “I was wondering when you were going to catch up.” She tossed a glance at the older woman. “Took you long enough.”

There was a scandalous look over Amanda’s face now as she stopped beside her, her eyes almost widening again as much as in the car when Beth had told her she must’ve been the one who should lead this team. “What?” she whispered, walking to her closer. “Have—have you been doing that to get my attention?”

“No—” Beth answered calmly, putting down another pot she’d brought up before she turned to Amanda. “No. But you haven’t been paying attention lately.”

It was true. Beth was carving out the trees since last week, since after their talk, but Amanda hadn’t noticed. She didn’t notice the trees. She didn’t notice Carl and Clarice. She didn’t notice it was Beth who broke Beatrice’s stupid statues. She didn’t even come today at the time. Yet, it wasn’t still why she’d been carving the trees.

“Every contact leaves its trace, you told me that—” Beth reminded her as she moved to another stall. “I just want to make sure of that.”

“Beth—”

Beth cut her off again, “It’s okay, Amanda. I’m okay.”

Her sister’s eyes were speculative, but before she could open her mouth, the tell-tale screams erupted in the air. They whipped towards it on reflex, their hands at their weapons. Her rifle still on her back, Amanda drew her Glock as Beth saw Nicholas and Richards were running away from the cabin at the other side of the field like hell.

A second later, expectedly, Beth saw the dead too.

The scene should’ve frightened her, but Beth only felt a wild surge running over her when they started running towards them as Beth realized she didn’t want her first real run didn’t finish without fighting with the dead. It didn’t seem somehow…appropriate. It didn’t make sense, but what did make sense anymore in this world? Perhaps they’d lost all the sense in the world when the dead started walking.

Nearer to the cabin, Nicholas and Aiden joined by their teammates, firing on the walkers, as more of the dead poured out of the cabin. Always quick on her feet, Amanda was running like a lightning bolt, but Beth forced herself to keep up her pace.

“Stay behind me—” Amanda shouted at her, her face decisively set, her eyes glinting sharply, the woman Beth knew. Amanda Shepherd was back.

From the left side of the field, the other walkers suddenly appeared too, drawn to the gunfire and clamor. It was always like this, everything happened in a blink; one moment peaceful, the next one, a nightmare. Funny enough, Beth still didn’t mind. The surge in her was like a wildfire now. She wanted to fight. She wanted to kill them, as much as possible, as quick as possible, she wanted to do this.

She wanted to…live.

“Close the door!” Amanda screamed at Aiden, seeing more dead still pouring out of the cabin as she twisted aside and started shooting at the walkers closest to them as she ran, clearing their paths ahead. The others weren’t that lucky or simply didn’t have that talent as she did. They’d been firing their guns, but the walkers kept advancing on, their aim missing.

“Stop aiming for the head!” Amanda yelled. “Shoot at the legs! Get them down!”

Beth understood what the words meant. It was what Amanda had always told them in the prison, stop making the headshot whenever they understood they couldn’t, but try to drop the walker instead, but as Richards and Jeff listened to her order, Nicholas didn’t. He still aimed for the head, and still missed.

“Nicholas!” Amanda roared as they ran towards them, throwing the dead out of the way. “Goddammit, STOP!”

Stopping for a second when around her was clear, Beth aimed the walker in front of her, aiming for the head. She could never make the shot when running and when she was stationary, her last count was one in five. For every five shots she made, Beth only managed to have one that hit the brain. In the woods, she had gotten better, but knives and blades were easier. She tipped her gun down towards the hips and legs, also trying to make sure she didn’t aim anyone from them in the crossfire, another lesson from Amanda, always mind where you shoot, before she fired.

The next second the walker dropped, and Beth quickly sprinted forward to finish him on the ground.

“Beth, get out of there—” Amanda screamed at her, fighting with another walker who had grabbed her as Beth understood running towards the walker, she’d put herself in the line of fire.

She started moving away but the walker on the ground just caught her at that moment at her boots, and her feet tripping Beth tumbled down.

As the hands tried to pull her towards the clanking teeth, Beth started kicking the head. “BETH!” Amanda was screaming, but she couldn’t turn her head and look at her because another walker was closing on her as she still fought with the one on the ground.

A bullet hit the walker that was closing on her at the shoulder. It swayed on its limping legs but continued dragging itself towards her.

“Nicholas!” Amanda’s scream rang in the air with Aiden as another bullet hit this time its collarbone, close to the head, but still away. “For fuck’s sake, STOP! GET IT DOWN!”

Beth kicked the head with the heels of her cowboy boots as hard as she could, hearing the crack of the rotting skull, eyeing the worms slithering out of the cracks. Beth kicked harder. The other walker approached closer.

“BEEETH!”

Amanda’s screams were closer now behind her back. Her eyes moved up as her feet still kicked the walker that was holding her, and Beth watched the other walker advancing on her fell with a single headshot just between his eyebrows as her boot rammed into the rotting head below her.

Her eyes flicking backward, Beth saw Amanda letting the rifle drop at her side to clutch her elbow for a second, the green eyes darkened into sharp emerald, looking as furious as a whirling tempest that wreaked havoc. Beth was up to her feet in a heartbeat as Amanda turned her around and pushed her forward, taking up the rifle again.

“Run!”

The order was clear in clipped tones through clenched teeth before she started raining bullets from the rifle on the walkers. Beth didn’t make her repeat. She started running, the others following too, Amanda staying behind to cover their back before she started retreating herself, still firing the rifle until her ammo finished and caught up with them. They were all running now. Running like hell to the entrance for their lives.

The place was lost, the seeds were lost, not they had found any, but they were alive.

Beth threw herself out of the garden’s entrance, the dead still following them in the driveway, like always. She jumped in the black car in a blur, Amanda was still screaming curses at Nicholas, her fury still like a tempest, her eyes darkest green while she lunged inside the car, too. Beth watched the dead, turning her head aside to look outside as Aiden turned on the motor and they drove away.

 # # #

Anger fueled with fear was like a living, breathing thing inside her. She wanted to tear the idiots into little shreds! Rip them off with her own hands! The idiots! The fools! She knew it! She knew it! She knew she should’ve never said yes to this!

Beth. She almost lost Beth. If she’d been second late, only second late to grab the rifle from over her shoulder, she was going to watch another Greene, the last of the Greenes die in front of her eyes again! The thought shuddered her down to her core as she turned to Aiden, anger still flooding her. She wanted to lash out. She wanted to claw at him. Break every damn bone in their bodies.

“Pull over—” she ordered. They were returning to Alexandria, but she wanted him to pull over. She wanted to rip them apart!

Aiden just drove, his eyes trained on the road. Amanda could see he was angry, too, but she didn’t care. This was his fault as much as Nicholas. He should’ve stopped the idiot!

“Why didn’t you tell him to stop!” Amanda spat out angrily. “He was going to get Beth killed!”

“He was trying to make the shot!”

“And he couldn’t!” Amanda yelled back. It was clear as fuck. Clear as the sky. He couldn’t make the shot. “He can’t make a shot to the head on a moving target. He doesn’t have the skill!”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“That’s reality!” she snapped back. “He can try as much as he wants, but it doesn’t change anything. You have it or you not!”

One could get better with practice, could learn how to dismount and reassemble a gun quickly, learn how to shoot, how to aim, but it didn’t change the reality. If you didn't have the skill, whatever that thing was that made a person a good shot, then you just had to admit it and make your peace with it. Find your calling in another way, train yourself to get better but not for being the best.

Nicholas didn’t. Instead, he kept making his stupid games, his stupid bets, trying to prove them he could be the best because his damn ego didn’t let him accept the simple truth.

“So what?” he asked, slanting an angry look at her. “He should stop trying?”

“I’m not saying that! Don’t twist my words! You know what I’m saying!” She paused before she spat again. “But you can’t bring yourself to tell him because he’s your friend!”

Beth was looking at her funnily now, her lips quirked up in that weird way as if she wasn’t the one who almost got bitten a few minutes ago. When Amanda saw her down on the ground, she became so scared for a moment, she really froze, couldn’t even breathe, snapshots running wild in her mind as the teenager fought with the dead attacking her. The memory brought back instantly another one, and over her eyes, there was Maggie again as hands pulled her back and rotting teeth sunk in her neck as Amanda watched helplessly, only screaming.

Amanda jerked her head, bringing herself back to the moment, understanding that they’d just passed into the main gate. They had arrived. They were back. No one rejoiced.

“That’s bullshit—” Aiden spat back at her, a fury inciting him too as Amanda knew she hit a sore spot. He yanked the door and stepped out of the car.

“It’s reality—” Amanda repeated, her voice rising as she followed him out.

Aiden circled the car and stopped in front of her as Beth left the car too. Nicholas and the others were already out, too, Nicholas looking at them. There was an expression over his face, an expression that Amanda didn’t even try to read. She didn’t care.

She didn’t care the guard who was at the gate duty had come out either, checking out what was happening or a few others out of the houses joining to them. She was beyond caring now, everything was piling upon on each other, one thing and another. Maggie’s screaming face flashed over her eyes again as the rotting teeth sunk in her neck and the scene flicked to Beth wriggling on the ground, trying to kick the rotting head, another one approaching her, shots hitting it aimlessly… She was so afraid, so fucking afraid.

If she was second late. If she’d lost Beth too, just because these damn fools couldn’t admit the truth!

“Why didn’t you listen to me!” she fired, marching toward Nicholas, her blood feeling like a fire in her veins, burning her. It hurt, it hurt so fucking much, the fear, the dread, the thought that she almost lost Beth. “I told you to stop! Stop trying to make the shot!”

“I don’t have to listen to you!” Nicholas countered, looking at her coldly. “You’re not in charge!”

Beth’s words ran wild in her mind as she felt a pang of guilt as stark as her fear. If she’d been in charge, perhaps today wouldn’t have happened. She didn’t know, but the feeling was there, and it fueled her anger more.

“You are a fool,” Amanda seethed out at the man as Aiden yelled at her a ‘hey’, coming in between them. Amanda didn’t stop. “And I tell you because he doesn’t want to hurt your poor feelings—” She jerked her head at Aiden, her tone turning acerbic with a taunting edge before she told the man just like Rick had foreboded, “But if you keep this up, you’re gonna get yourself killed!”

She paused, still glaring at Nicholas as he just walked in on her, pushing Aiden away. “Or worse—” Amanda continued, her tone now nothing but a cold sneer. “You’re gonna get someone else killed.”

The man neared her closer as Aiden wedged between them again, putting his hand on Nicholas's chest, pushing him off as the other raised towards her, not touching but close.

“Nicholas, back off—” Aiden warned as Nicholas pushed toward her behind his shoulder, didn’t listening to his leader, either.

“Yeah?” Nicholas sneered back. “Even if I did, I die at least because of my community. What have you been doing in the last days, officer?” he taunted. “Aside from digging pits and fucking the sheriff at every opportunity?”

Amanda had never been a violent woman, always run away from violence as much as possible. She never picked fights, always slipped away from conflict. As spiteful and catty as she could get sometimes, she didn’t like fighting unless it was absolutely necessary. Perhaps that was one of the things that had changed with her, she thought briefly as she let herself go and let the anger reign over her fully.

When she lunged forward, her right hand had already fisted into a tight ball. A loud crack burst in the air as it smacked on the man’s nose, breaking the bone.

Notes:

All right, Amanda finally punched someone! Heh.
It was long coming, her conflicted feelings culminating and breaking her self-control. I didn't want to copy cat the show's supply run subplot with Nicholas and Glenn, and all in honestly didn't want to kill Noah, either, and as I couldn't kill Beth (which totally would push Amanda over the edge) I wrote something else for her and Nicholas.
I think I exaggerated my editing skills when I said I was going to try to update two chapters today, lol, because, seriously this takes time. I don't think I'll manage to do it today anymore, but will try tomorrow if I can.

Chapter 20: 'I love her'

Summary:

After her breakdown returning from the supply run, Amanda has to face the consequences of her actions. Rick makes a confession to Deanna while Ford requests Amanda's help for the mission to D.C.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

By noon, his shirt was clinging onto him with sweat. With a silent grunt, his back aching, Rick drew up, holding on the shovel. Shovel work was backbreaking and Rick was already tired. He felt settled though after his talk with Carl. He just wanted now Amanda to return so they could talk too.

Rick had been thinking about it after returning from the maintenance building’s yard, working on the field with Carl. Before the first hour finished, Rick made up his mind. He was going to ask Amanda to move in, share the master bedroom with him. It was the time. They needed to start truly sharing their lives. This wasn’t doing for him.

He wanted to spend his nights with her in the same bed, not on cardboard over the hard floor. He wanted to see her clothes in his closet, her toothbrush in the mug beside the sink. They needed this. He remembered that one night they’d shared, the peace and satisfaction it brought on him, just sleeping with her together, their bodies tangled, her fingers stroking him idly as she read a book curled up beside him.

Rick wanted that, not this. Their tightly linked fingers skated over his eyes, too, Amanda staring at him openly as Rick stroked himself in her. Together. His thoughts were spiraling further, but Rick tried to stop them. They still needed time. To see how they could do it together, how they would share a place before they took another step forward. Rick wanted that, too, wanted to go all way down with her.

But they should start now. He checked his wrist. “Let’s take a break—” he told Carl as the teenager stopped too. “It’s around noon. Amanda and Beth should return soon.”

The run, close to Alexandria, wouldn’t take longer than that, thanks for small mercies. Carl nodded. They headed back to the house as Rick evaluated scenarios in his mind on how to breach the topic to her. Should he just go and tell her he wanted to share his room with her or should he prepare another dinner date for her, a bit more formal, perhaps in that lounge room in the community center, and ask her what she thought about it? About sharing a room with him and Judith.

Judith would like it, too. His baby girl loved Amanda as much as Amanda loved her. Rick wanted them to be together, too, enjoying each other’s company. It was the best for all of them like he’d told Carl. Carl needed his personal space, but Judy needed a mother figure. Judy had her mother, that would never change, but this was different. His mind swirled to what Daryl told him in the cabin after Carl had caught them. She’s smart, pretty, good with your kids, and damn good with killing walkers… What a man would ask for more?

Rick almost chuckled out. What more he would ask for, indeed?

Besides, there was Beth, too, who needed her own space as much Carl. Rick suspected Amanda would feel anxious leaving the girl, though. Honestly, a part of him was still disturbed with the thought of Carl staying out in the garage, so Rick understood her. He thought to ask Daryl to change the garages so Carl would be closer to their house, but as close as it was, the refuge was still out.

His jaw moved with the thought as Rick thought perhaps they should prepare the attic for Carl. It was a cluttered space at the roof, reached up by a ladder through a trap door on the ceiling after a small staircase that led to the top floor. It wasn’t as big as the garage, either, but it was still inside. But Rick wasn’t sure what Carl would think of it. Instead of speculating silently like he was doing with Amanda, Rick decided to learn.

He turned to his son. “Hey, son, about moving to the garage—” he started, but Carl cut him off.

“It’s okay, dad—” Carl replied. “I want it.”

Rick shook his head. “No. I was going to say how about the attic. It’s unoccupied too.”

Carl shot him a look. “It’s too small.”

“I thought staying in the house would be better than staying out.”

“I’m still in the house, dad—” Carl said in return, his tone this time having an exasperation, reading Rick’s fears.

Rick decided to let it go for now because he didn’t want to get into another fight with his son just after this morning. “We talk about it later—” he said, stepping on the porch.

Nice smells were coming out of the house, Rick breathed in as they walked inside. The scene still caught him each time, the smell of cooking from the house. Rick had missed this. Interiors were warmer too because of it even though the heating systems were still closed.

Deanna had explained the heating systems used hot water that circled inside the pipes buried in the houses’ infrastructure system, but the boiler ran on the electricity that was used to be supplied half by the solar panels, half from the city’s general electric grid. Since the electricity was out of the option, Deanna had made a restriction on the heating systems, not opening the system until winter arrived fully.

Rick suspected it was also the reason why Deanna kept the houses as possible as full, leaving the larger houses with a few exceptions, like Reese sisters or the Anderson family that already had their houses in the town before the outbreak. There were still other houses empty on the grounds. Alexandria was a big place, Rick had counted more than sixty houses, and there were some inhabited lofts at the rooftop of the community center too. Deanna had said they were guest houses for the townspeople’s guests that stayed overnight, the older management running it like a hotel. Deanna would give them more than two houses with their numbers, but the woman was holding back, afraid of maintenance problems.

Two of the solar panels were broken and had stayed that way. Deanna was optimistic, but not stupid. If they lost the solar panels, she knew Alexandria would lose all of her perks and luxuries.

Rick didn’t mind. He had his furnace to keep him warm on the cold nights. The thought almost brought a grin at his lips, remembering how warm Amanda kept him last night as they slept naked in each other’s arms. Perhaps Rick would add that part to her, too, as he pitched the idea to her. It’s getting colder. Lemme keep you warm. It was logical, tactical. A half grin broke over his lips. Amanda didn’t do sentimental well, but she was always tactical.

Rick schooled his features, holding back on the thought as they crossed the hall. Inside the living room, Carol was with Mika and Judith, the small baby tabby curled up between them over the rugs as the kids played. Sasha was lounging with Bob over the couch. She had a morning shift at the bell tower, and instead of coming to their own house, must have come here for lunch. Most of the time, they still spent time together, especially for lunch and dinner time.

There was Noah too and his gang, but no Amanda or Beth. The sounds were coming out from the kitchen, much like the smells, so Rick asked, walking to sit down beside Judy as Carl left for the kitchen. “Didn’t Amanda and Beth return?”

Sasha shook her head. “No. I saw Spencer when I left the outlook to him. They called in. They couldn’t find the seeds in the organic market, but Jeff knew this place a few miles away, a garden nursery. They went there to check out.” She paused. “Aiden asked any concerned third parties to be informed.”

His jaw clenched as Rick took Judy from the rugs on his bent knees. Concerned third parties. Well, Rick was concerned. That wasn’t the plan. They were supposed to check the store and come back. He didn’t even want her to leave in the first place but going to an unchecked place when she was with those idiots, tagged along with Beth.

Rick almost stood up and left to look for her. He just wanted her back! Not going on to supply runs without scouting with people who regarded all of this as a game. The way Aiden and his men treated at the roadblock pissed him off but imagining them with Beth and Amanda now dissolved his newly found calmness.

He slowly heaved out a breath, trying to calm himself. Leaving to look for her now meant booking for another fight at her return. Amanda wouldn’t like it, and Rick didn’t want to fight with her anymore. Though, he also didn’t want her to bail out on him using supply runs as a decoy whenever she wanted to take a break from him.

She’d been doing the same thing since she came back to the prison. She’d tried to sneak away first to find Gorman, then took Lizzie out to look for supplies while he was out because Rick moaned Lori’s name unconscious, now this. The worse she didn’t even tell him, always make him learn from the others. First from Beth, then from Mika, a ten years old child, and this time for the last, Deanna Monroe herself.

Even Rick had told Lori, faced her when he wanted to go out to find Merle or looked for Sophia. They’d fought, yes, but at least he didn’t make her learn it from any third parties.

He put down Judy, his nerves rattling again, deciding to take another round outside. Suddenly inside the house became too hot, too warm Rick wanted to be out, feel the chill. He stood up, heading first to the kitchen to drink water before he left. He wasn’t hungry, but he was thirsty.

Inside the kitchen, he saw Joan and Daryl prepare a meal together. The scene almost looked domesticated, the way they worked seamlessly cooking silently. Rick felt a pang of envy finding him in his chest, watching Joan and Daryl.

He still didn’t know how they were, if they’d crossed the line yet or not. If they weren’t already, they looked like they would soon. Rick was glad. He wanted Daryl to have someone close for a long time, and Joan seemed like would be good for him. Rick was happy for his friend, even when he was a bit envious. This was how he wanted to be with Amanda. He wanted her to be here so that they could cook together like Daryl and Joan. But instead, he wondered about her, trying not to imagine what would happen outside.

Putting the glass down inside the dishwasher forcefully, Rick left the house. As he stepped down from the porch, Abraham, Rosita, and Eugene appeared in the driveway. Abraham halted on his steps upon seeing him. “Hey Sheriff—” he called out to him. “I just saw Spencer. He says the other supply team is due to be back tomorrow.”

The famous long-estranged team that Abraham had been waiting for. “We should—”

Rick shook his head. He didn’t have time for this time. “I don’t have time for this time now.”

The sergeant’s eyes narrowed under his bushy red eyebrows, his massive build almost turning…menacing. Rick felt a surge of anticipation run over him with his frayed mood, and he glared at the man. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

The words uttered simply were only…accusing. “No—” Rick replied. “I just don’t have time now.”

“You’ve been saying that for two weeks—” Abraham challenged him openly. “When will you have time exactly?”

Rick shrugged and kept walking instead of answering. Truthfully, he’d already decided. He wasn’t going to D.C. His decision had been wavering, but last night and this morning made it certain.

He had other problems now than risking for a cure that might work. He had to put things back together with Amanda, and this morning with Carl had closed the deal for him. Carl liked this place. His son liked being here, so he was staying. Make sure this place could be as safe and homely as possible. It ended the whole discussion for him, but Rick just didn’t want to deal with Abraham Ford right now.

If anything, truthfully, Rick preferred Abraham to stay too, help Amanda to train these people so she could have more time for herself. To clear off his mind, Rick started a tour, walking clockwise around the wall, checking the perimeters, but mostly to feel the cool chill.

Though, it didn’t help a lot. He was still as frisky as when he left the house, thoughts turning in his mind as his anger pent up more with each moment he spent inside the walls while Amanda stayed out. As his mind wandered away, his feet did too, and after a while, Rick found himself away from the wall, close to the pond at the background of the community center where he’d caught Carl and Beth smoking on their first day.

Spotting one of the gazebos over the tree lines around the pond, Rick started walking toward it to cool himself down, tucking his hands inside his pockets. These secluded parts of the grounds were more serene, more silent and cooler. His head bowed, his eyes stayed trained on the dry forage, only the faint cracks of the branches and crunches of the dry forage under his boots in his ears. No snarls, no growls. It reminded him of the rare peaceful moments in the woods before dawn as Amanda drifted off into sleep in his arms.

Hmph.

Rick halted, his head whipped up towards the faint sound. Then he heard it again, a low sob as if someone was hiccupping with difficulty, trying to breathe. This time it was more drawled out, louder. Rick spun on his heels.

Ahead of him, two gazebos away, Beatrice was in Pete Anderson’s arms, her forehead rested on the man’s shoulder as she wept. Rick couldn’t know it for sure, but the faint noises he heard didn’t let him speculate anything else. She was crying, and she was clinging to the surgeon, closely, very closely.

Rick almost sighed. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing exactly; if it was a thing that fired again because of their past after what had happened this morning or something else. He didn’t care, either, and Rick wanted to stay away from Pete Anderson as much as possible after this morning. But like each time Rick desired something in these days, one of the branches cracked under his boots louder than before, and they flinched away from each other, hearing it.

Their heads snapped at him before their eyes widened with shock, understanding that they were caught. By no one else than the sheriff himself.

The scene became even more awkward as they gawked at him, making him think that whatever this was about, it wasn’t so innocent. Rick felt a headache coming to him. If this was what it looked like, if the surgeon was having an affair with his former lover, then what they would do? Extra-marital love affairs wasn’t a crime even before the outbreak, but how they would deal with it if Deanna learned? Or Jessie?

Or perhaps the woman already knew. Perhaps it was the reason why she was that way Amanda had called odd? Rick didn’t want to speculate, but some women chose to pretend not to notice their cheating husbands not to disturb their established lives even before the outbreak, but now?

Such a marital mess was the last thing he needed in his life. As Rick tried to decide what he should do, Beatrice didn’t let him ponder on it further. She pushed herself back off her former boyfriend, and turning around, she started running from them.

“Bee!” Anderson called out after her, but it was already too late. She was running away like hell. Beatrice seemed to be as good as Amanda on that. Running. Literally and figuratively.

“Bee!” the doctor called again, sending a glare at him. Rick understood it was possibly a new thing, and scared Beatrice. Perhaps he should have…a talk with Beatrice.

Turning around, Pete Anderson started marching towards him, his skin flushed red with anger, his dirty blonde hair falling over his forehead. Rick eyed the man as his jaw settled and waited him to arrive rigidly. He wanted to go much like Beatrice, minus running, but as the man wanted a confrontation, leaving wasn’t an option.

“You—” the surgeon started, but their talk got interrupted the second time in the same day. Glenn suddenly rushed out of the community center’s corner, running toward them.

“RICK!”

Rick swore. This really had started bringing back memories, the shouts of his name with urgency.  “What happened?”

“Amanda—” Glenn yelled. “She’s fighting with Nicholas beside the gate!”

Turning on his heels without another word, Rick started running to the gate. Glenn was running beside him too as they left the doctor behind, the man and Beatrice vanishing off his mind as Rick tried to sort out what Glenn had said. They were back. And she was fighting with Nicholas, and that meant—

“Are they okay?” Rick shouted to Glenn, twisting aside to face the younger man. “Are all of them okay?”

“They are—” Glenn confirmed. “They just came back and started fighting. Something happened, I think, but I don’t know what.”

Of course, something happened! Of course, it did! He cursed silently, speeding up. The sounds of the clamor became louder too as he did, a curious audience already gathered around the gate. Rick picked up Daryl’s angel wings in the center of the crowd, where it was buzzing like a hive.

“Stop—” Someone was screaming in the middle of them, but Rick couldn’t see who was. “For god’s sake, STOP!”

Rick caught a glimpse of Amanda’s light brown hair as Daryl twisted aside, trying to drag her away from Nicholas who was in Aiden’s grip as she tried to kick the man, jumping on both legs.

She pushed both men back with the kick as she broke Daryl’s grip. Aiden’s grip slipping, Nicholas got free, too, and lunged at her before she could guard herself in the defense position. Rick saw the man’s nose was bleeding as he punched Amanda at her side, her feet sliding back with the momentum.

Rick sprinted, started yelling as well, “Get off of her!”

Though it wasn’t Nicholas who attacked this time, but Amanda, closing the distance between them again in two quick steps. Nicholas tried a punch this time, but prepared, Amanda swiftly ducked toward her left, dodging from it. She then drew back without hesitation before she punched the man in his jaw.

Nicholas slid back. Amanda marched on him again. First, her fist exploded at the side of his face, and her knee followed up as she took another step, the man’s defenses all broken, and Amanda wasn’t merciful.

As he bent down in two with a scream with the kick in his balls, Amanda kicked him again with her knee at his jaw, backing him at the big car behind them. She clutched the man’s head by the hair and rammed his head at the door.

“I’m gon’ fucking rip off your tongue, you asshole!” she swore loudly, her fingers fisting inside Nicholas’s hair before she hit the head again against the car.

God! She looked like a wild vengeful nymph now, all her usually repressed violence unleashed, and Rick didn’t even want to think what had broken her that way. “Amanda!!” he screamed her name, his heartbeat accelerating as he threw away people out of his way to reach her. “Amanda, stop!”

She didn’t even stir at his voice. “AMANDA!”

Rick wedged between Aiden and Daryl, pushing both men off as they tried to pull her back from Nicholas and instead grabbed her himself, his arms coiling around her waist tightly. “Amanda!” he tried a low whisper this again.

It didn’t work, either. She was still trying to ram the idiot’s head at the car another time as Rick tried to drag her back, hauling her up. “Calm down!”

Still not letting Nicholas go, her feet raised, her knees bent up, she started trashing in his arms to break free. “LET GO OFF ME!!”

Tightening his arms like clamps, Rick yanked her aside, spinning on his heels with all the force he could muster, and turned them together, her legs still suspended in the air.

He landed her down as she bent down, Rick following her closely, still holding her at the waist tightly. He breathed over her neck, pulling her even closer as Amanda stilled in his arms, panting heavily, staring at the ground. Rick just wanted to take her and go when he heard murmurs among the crowd.

“What’s happening here?” Deanna asked before Rick could do anything else, and the words made Amanda react again.

She yanked herself free of him, pushing him away before she straightened up. She turned to the older woman, and Rick heard her seething cold tone. “Ask your son!”

# # #

By the time they all were in Deanna’s study, the temper among them hadn’t lessened even a bit. Amanda was still sending seething glares at the bleeding man who Pete Anderson had made a tampon inside his broken nose.

The man’s shirt was torn off, unbuttoned, spotted with dark red dots, his hair all roused up. His jaw had already started turning color with bruises, dots of blood sprinkled over there. The back of his head had to be bleeding as well as Rick could see a faint trail over his neck, and wondered if he was going to have a concussion because of the blows he had. The rest of their clothes were dirtied and bloodied in the same way, and Rick knew it wasn’t only because of the fight now.

Amanda wasn’t in any better condition, either. Her collar was slightly torn where someone possibly grabbed her, and she was spotted with blood drops, but darker and dirtier. Walker blood. There was a patch of mud and dirt over her left cheek, her hair falling over her shoulders, her half-ponytail messed up. Beth’s clothes were much, much worse than all men, Rick had seen it before Deanna sent all the others away before she led them in the house. Rick felt the same anger rising in him. He was angry with her for leaving because he knew something like this was going to happen, but it was nothing—nothing next to the man who sat in her opposition direction.

Rick raised his head at Nicholas and fixed at him a stern look. Aiden was standing behind Nicholas as Rick standing behind Amanda in front of Deanna’s desk. “What did you do?” he snapped angrily, barely holding on to his fury. A part of him wanted to finish what Amanda had started and send the man to the infirmary for a couple of days. “What the hell did you do?”

“Me?” Nicholas asked roughly through his nose with the tampon. “’re ya ‘asking me?” His head tilted at Amanda. “Ask her.”

Amanda sent the bleeding man another seething glare. “I tell you what he did!” Her voice raised as she turned to Deanna. “He almost got Beth bit!”

Realizing his suspicions were true, Rick shook his head, but Aiden exclaimed before no one made a sound. “That’s bullshit! He was just trying to make the shot!”

“And I already told you he couldn’t!” She yelled before she turned to Nicholas again. “You’re kidding yourself! You will NEVER make the shot!” she lashed out even angrier. “You don’t have it in you!”

Nicholas made a move off his seat, his face a thunder. “You—”

Amanda sprung up to her feet in return as Rick quickly stepped in between them, raising his hand towards the man. “Step back—” he warned, but Nicholas cut him off.

“She’s a nutcase as much as her sister!”

Before he could react, Amanda lunged over him, trying to reach Nicholas, her fist rose. Rick caught her again from the back just before she could find her aim.

Deanna rose to her feet as Rick hauled her back from the man once more. “Aiden, take Nicholas out!” the old woman shouted then turned to Amanda. “And you, CALM DOWN!”

Rick dropped her down on the seat. Aiden dragged Nicholas out. When they were alone, Deanna sat back on her seat, her stern cold blue eyes still on Amanda.

Amanda didn’t even flinch, her face had already started wearing a cloud of aloofness as she fixed her eyes on the wall, as if she wasn’t the woman who was trying to attack a man out of her mind half an hour ago. Her abrupt mood change and the scene suddenly reminded Rick a lot of their talk with Dawn as Deanna regarded her coolly behind her desk, Amanda staring at the wall.

Fuck it!

Rick turned to Deanna. “I take her, too—” he stated, making a move towards her. He needed to get her away from this! He should’ve never let her go in the first place. Never! He knew something was going to happen. He knew!

“No—” Deanna stopped him, raising her hand. “We need to talk.” When Amanda didn’t react, Rick pulled back. “Amanda—” Deanna started coolly. “What you just said to Nicholas was very spiteful, very mean.”

“He doesn’t understand nice words!” Amanda snapped, whipping her head at Deanna. “He needs to hear the naked truth.”

“And what’s that?” Deanna asked, raising one eyebrow. “What’s that shot you think he can’t make?”

“Headshot—” she answered in one crisp word.

Rick started realizing the gist of what had happened, but Deanna didn’t. “What does that mean?”

Amanda shook her head, and her aloofness slipping, the fire entered in her spirit again. “They don’t understand. They take bets, make tallies like it’s a game. It’s not.” She paused for a second to calm down herself.

“We got circled by the dead. Beth was fighting with one, but another was coming at her, too. I told him to take it down, not try to make the shot to head, just get him down! He didn’t listen. Kept trying as the walker just got closer to Beth. I couldn’t get to her, was fighting with another. I managed to put it down at the last moment before it bit Beth. At the last moment.”

Her face grew even colder as Rick’s jaw clenched. “If I were second late, Beth would’ve been bitten.” Her eyes bore through Deanna’s blue eyes, unflinching. “He should’ve just tried to drop it down as he could! Like I told him! Aiden doesn’t stop him.”

 “I understand your anger and fear, but is it the way?” the older woman asked, her stern eyes staring back at Amanda. “Breaking his nose, calling him out spitefully, tauntingly?” she countered, shaking her head, turning to Rick. “We have a way we do things here.”

That flared Amanda’s anger again. “And is that the way?” she asked furiously. “If they keep this up, they’re gonna get themselves killed!”

“That’s not enough justification to break someone’s nose!” Deanna’s voice rose. “You told me you aren’t vagabonds!”

“I am NOT!”

“They why do you act like one? Why do you try to solve a conflict with fists?” She fixed at Amanda a hard look. “I am very disappointed, Officer Shepherd. I thought we understood each other better than this.”

Amanda’s lips clenched, her face wearing her cold mask again. “We should talk this later—” Rick interrupted, bending to Amanda to get her up, but Deanna stopped him another time.

“She can go now, but not you. We need to talk.”

His anger heating up further, Rick almost left and finished the job Amanda had started, break the idiot’s jaw, knock his teeth out. He shouldn’t have dealt with this. Goddammit! He should’ve been worried over how to ask Amanda to share the room with him, trying to decide the best way for it. Not this. Not goddamn this!

It just never ended.

He was angry with Nicholas and the rest of them, really wanted to break their jaws, knock their teeth out, but they both knew the men were bad news. They both knew it. She should’ve just let him deal with it…deal with everything. It was his job! She should let him do it! She didn’t need to do this! Picking fights with him, for what? For endangering herself, tagging Beth along, just to make a point?

And what was her point?

That she didn’t need him!

As if there was something wrong with that, as if…as if…it was the end of the world! As if Rick didn’t need her, too.

His erratic thoughts made him so angry, Rick wasn’t even sure to whom he was the angriest anymore. He returned to Deanna and waited, staring at the woman. He didn’t want to do this, either. He just wanted to go back to the house, take her in his arms, and lie down in the bed, and tell her—tell her he loved her! Rick was tired, so fucking tired.

His eyes found Deanna’s before the old woman stated coolly. “She’s going to see Denise, one hour for every two days, starting tomorrow.”

And Rick stared, his jaw clenching so tight he heard the sound his teeth made as they grated on each other. He shook his head sharply. “No.”

No. Amanda being forced to therapy? No.

No.

Rick couldn’t deal with that now. He could barely deal with her just as it was. He knew Amanda. She would prefer to face a horde instead of sitting in front of a psychologist willingly, as much as one would call this willingly.

She must’ve been interviewed during her time in the force, Rick was no fool. Not to mention her childhood interviews with the social workers, but she had killed someone on duty. Rick didn’t know the circumstances, Amanda had only mentioned it briefly in the funeral home, but the procedures after such an event were clear. And Amanda’s childhood must have also left her open to a lot of questions.

Rick didn’t know the whole story, but he still knew. Amanda and therapy in the same sentence were bad news. He recalled the taunting bitter way she shot back after he asked how many people she had killed and why when they first met.

 Are you going to ask now how I was sleeping at nights afterward? There was more to that than taunting words. Someone asked her that, Rick was sure of it because she was having problems afterward.

Rick fixated a hard look at the woman. “No—” he clipped. “You can’t treat her like Beth or Clarice. She’s not a child.”

Deanna returned his look with the same sternness, but when she spoke, her voice was calm. “I told you I don’t tolerate such behaviors inside these walls. She’s having PTSD. She has to work it out.”

For god’s sake!” Rick almost shouted, waving an angry arm at her. “We all have the goddamn PTSD! We were eating snakes and worms three weeks ago sleeping in a barn!”

“Well, when I see you breaking someone’s nose, Rick, I’ll send you to Denise, too!” Deanna fired. “She’s going. You both should be grateful that we don’t have any holding cells in the grounds, so I don’t make her pass the night there.”

There was a mockery in her voice, but a deadly serious one. If they had a jail, she would’ve sent Amanda there today. “I put Dave and his lot in one of the house’s basement before, but I think we don’t need that for this occasion,” she went on musingly, bowing her head to look at some reports over her desk.

Rick’s jaw throbbed. Amanda locked in a basement? The thought almost made him retch. Rick stared at the old woman with a look he hoped was stern enough for the gravity of his words.

“You can lock her in a basement over my dead body, Deanna.”

The woman’s eyes lifted at him over the report she’d been scanning. “You do care about her, don’t you, Rick?”

The words left him without hesitance. “I love her.”

Deanna raised her head fully after his declaration, and Rick read surprise over her expression. Deanna wasn’t an easy person to read, but her expression was open this time before she smiled at Rick. “Does she know?” she asked, leaning down, her voice now a little bit mischievous.

He was almost surprised himself how the conversation had turned like this, but he guessed he just wanted to tell someone as he didn’t seem like he was going to be able to tell Amanda as he wanted anytime soon.

Rick didn’t want it to be like the last time when he had blurted them out. He wanted it to be about them, only them, not because they lost Maggie, not because he learned about Judith, or she almost lost Beth. No. He needed to do it properly this time. Ask her first to share his bed, his room, his life, then cup her face between his hands, look at her eyes and tell her simply. I love you.

But still, it felt good that he at least told it to someone aloud. He almost told the woman to add that into his file, too. Reading his silence, Deanna gave him a nod. “I believe we also need to restrict her leavings—”

Rick cut her off, shaking his head. “No. Don’t do it.”

“No?” Deanna asked, raising a brow. “I thought you don’t like her being out.”

It appeared Deanna had read his earlier lie too when the woman had questioned him about it. It was being a problem for Rick, more than he had thought, but that was still between him and Amanda, none else. “What you do is like forcing a wounded wild animal into a corner,” Rick warned placidly. “Amanda won’t take that well.”

Even the thought of that was enough to give him another shiver. Most of the time Amanda acted like a wounded animal when she got hurt, pulling out her claws ready to attack, so it wasn’t an off comparison. They should give her space to lick her wounds, not trap her behind the walls.

“I’ll talk to her for sessions with Denise,” Rick went on, trying to find a common ground. “But don’t declare any restrictions on her. It’s not a good idea to send her to the runs, though. At least for a while. There’re a lot of other ways she can contribute to the town.”

His last word accompanied a stern look too, making sure further where he stood with Amanda to the leader of the town. The woman he loved didn’t need to risk her life to earn her living, not as long as Rick breathed.

“Agreed—” she replied with a brief nod as Rick thought they’d reached a sort of understanding with each other. “I’ll arrange Denise for ten o’clock. Denise holds her sessions here because we want the discretion and a sense of professionalism that such interviews require. I assure you what is said in those hours strictly stay between Denise and her client.”

Rick nodded curtly before he left the study. On his way back to the house, Rick thought about how to tell her about the interviews and the restriction for the supply runs instead of asking her to move in with him.

# # #

Amanda wasn’t surprised that she had gotten her ass kicked out while Rick staying behind to talk, like just each time Hanson used to send her away to talk to Dawn to keep her in line when she fucked up.

Her mind was so cluttered, she couldn’t even think properly anymore, Deanna’s words, telling her she acted like vagabonds, spiteful and mean, the very things Amanda had always hated, telling she was disappointed with her. For a little while, Amanda had even heard Dawn talking to her instead of Deanna Monroe.

The resemblance angered her even more, jingling her memories about those times when she started having an…identity crisis after she got shot at her shoulder. She’d had it hard back then. She first looked after her parents, more like for her mother as she couldn’t find any name in the records for her father, then for her lost childhood friend. Both stories had ended in the same way; in a graveyard.

She shook herself out of the memory. She didn’t want to remember those times! It was already bad as it was, she didn’t need that, too! Aiden threw at her a look, his face still angry as Amanda stepped out on the porch, but she passed him without a look or word, leaving the house.

They were fools! Her words might be spiteful and mean, but she was right. They were going to get themselves killed if they went on like this. Or worse someone else. Like Beth. The scenes rapidly changed before her, Maggie and Beth’s face overlapping each other, one moment it was the church again, the next second they were in the field, Beth fighting with a rotter on the ground as another approached her closer. The fear, anger, and guilt ran altogether within her, turning everything upside down in her, Beth telling her she wasn’t paying attention, telling her she should’ve led the team, not Aiden.

The words swirled in her mind more and more, even though Amanda didn’t want them, but she couldn’t stop them, either. Would have she really prevented what happened today, stopped Nicholas if she was in charge? Would have she helped Lizzie if she was more attentive in the prison, noticed the clues about the girl before it was too late? What ifs. The very things Amanda had always hated. Amanda didn’t do well with what-ifs, with second-guessing herself.

That was why she never wanted to lead anything! Never wanted to take that responsibility, knowing every decision you made, every step you took would lead to something that would keep you awake at nights, asking yourself those damn what-ifs…what if I did this, what if I did that—

She jerked her head again. She should go back to the house, take a shower, clean herself, change her torn shirt. Go out for a run, or better even hit the gym, or just go and work on her field. Her hands were hurting, she had started feeling more, her knuckles chaffed, but Amanda didn't mind. She was useless like this. She didn’t want to go back to the house, either, see those covert glances that were surely waiting for her, everyone wondering what the hell had happened, why she’d fought with Nicholas. Though, staying outside was equally bad, too, as eyes followed her outside the same.

Amanda decided to make a detour and headed for a more secluded part of the town, away from everyone. She just wanted to be…away right now. She even thought of leaving for the woods for a while, getting herself out of the town, but she suspected it would only make things even worse.

She needed a breath. Goodness, she needed a damn break. Her feet brought her towards the pond again, over the trees, but it was just another fuck up of hers that Amanda didn’t want to see.

“Officer Shepherd—”

Officer Shepherd? It’d been days since she’d heard anyone calling her like that, and just today she’d broken a nose, she was called like that twice in a row. Amanda recognized the voice too.

She turned to face Abraham. “Yes, Sergeant Ford.”

Abraham’s lips twitched a little, but he closed on in her as Amanda waited. “Sorry about today—” the man spoke quickly, giving her a look as if he wanted to move it out of his way. Amanda’s eyes narrowed. “I’m glad y’all are back.”

She nodded wordless, accepting the words, and waited again. “Deanna’s other supply team is coming back soon—” Abraham stated, not making her wonder long. “Perhaps tomorrow. They made a check-in today when you were out,” he informed her. “I’ll leave as soon as they come. Deanna agreed today to send a team of five.”

Her eyes squinted more hearing the words. Amanda didn’t expect Deanna to get on the board like this, too, but she guessed, the woman was really curious about the world outside. “Sasha and Bob are coming too. And the boys. Noah stays. The others still haven’t given a direct answer.”

Amanda understood what was happening then. Just like the last time, Abraham was asking her help for dealing with Rick, trying to convince him to accept the mission, too. “I’m sorry, I can’t help—” Amanda declined before the former soldier made the request. “Rick and I—uh, we’ve been a bit bumpy lately,” she admitted.

Rick was angry. He’d kept himself contained with Deanna, but Amanda suspected another blowup from that front too. He was angry at Nicholas and Aiden, certainly, but he was angry with her, too. Because she’d left this morning.

Frankly, she didn’t give a shit right now, but she still couldn’t help Abraham. Though, the massive redhead shook his head. “No. Not about that. Rick already made up his mind.  He just stalls me now because he doesn’t want to deal with me.” He paused before he added firmly. “He won’t come.”

That surely sounded like Rick, too. “Rick’s priority is keeping this place safe and secure, Abraham.”

She couldn’t fault Rick on that. She still wanted that. She might have disappointed Deanna today with her actions, but Amanda still wanted that. A place the kids would live without fear, without hunger, without death.

“I understand that—” Abraham replied. “But I’m still going.”

Amanda nodded. “I know.” After the words she halted, because if he wasn’t here for Rick, then he was here… Again, the former sergeant didn’t make her wonder long.

“I heard what happened today. I don’t know how these people are. You’re the only one who went out with them. I’ve got Sasha and Rosita, but it’s not the same. We’re going to cross the line; push a frontier we’ve never dared before. I need someone who truly knows what that means. Knows what the chain of command is.” He paused. “Officer Shepherd, I want you to lead the second team.”

She thought about it for a full moment, everything going around her mind rapidly, Rick, Alexandria, her hopes, her fears, everything before she gave the former soldier a small, but firm nod. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

 # # #

Amanda decided to hide in the house for the rest of the day while everyone thankfully left her alone. She took a shower and changed her clothes, fitting herself into yoga pants and sweaters.

Beth had slipped away somewhere too, but Carl assured her he was going to keep an eye on her. Amanda thanked the teenager gratefully as she thought spending time with Carl would be better for her. She thought Beth might want to come with her to D.C, but Amanda crossed over the thought as soon as it appeared in her mind. No. She couldn’t let what happened today happen again.

She did what Beth had demanded from her. She was taking responsibility. Leading still scared the shit out of her, but Abraham was right. They needed someone who understood how things worked, the chain of command and such, the very reason why the man had played along with Rick that long.

If Rick bailed out, just like Amanda had surmised before, then she had to step up. It was…her duty, she supposed. Or something like that. At least just for this mission. It wasn’t like that she’d agreed on an indefinite contract and signed it with her blood. She still didn’t want to lead anything, but for this mission, she was going to do it.

Then everything would turn to the way it was supposed to. She supposed.

Amanda had no idea how things were supposed to be anymore. The feeling of riding the tide raised in her once more. Feeling it during sex was enough overwhelming but feeling it now reminded her how things were in the woods after the prison, and that reminded her a lot of other stuff Amanda preferred not to.

So, she stayed inside with the kids and with Carol as they sat on the blanket on the floor in the living room. Judith had Carol read her the hungry caterpillar while Mika stared at the toys and books in front of them with Cinnamon, but her eyes were clouded.

Carol didn’t say anything. The fact that Amanda had broken a man’s nose today didn’t look like affected the woman a bit.

Amanda sat down beside them. “Hey, Mika—” she called out to the girl. “What did you learn today at school?” As she inquired, Judith lunged at her over Carol, bringing her book too, and dropped it over her lap to make Amanda read it to her.

With a little smile, Amanda bent down to kiss the girl’s head as prancing on her pawns, Cinnamon curled up against her other side. Amanda opened the first page, scooping up Judith over her lap, and showed the green caterpillar drawing to the baby, her eyes lifting at Mika as she took a brown pencil from the coloring set, keeping her gaze pointedly away from her chaffed knuckles.

“Any new president?” she asked, starting to make a light stubble over the big caterpillar on the page. It was the father of the baby caterpillar, and the father was wearing eyeglasses but Rick didn’t have eyeglasses. So…

Coloring the pictures with reading had become Judith’s favorite playtime after they’d found color books in the daycare together. Like each time, the thought seized something in her chest, remembering how much she used to wish someone who would read her books before the bed like she used to see on TV, tucking her in bed and then read.  Over her eyes, a scene appeared. She tucked an older Judith into bed with Rick then they started reading to her, curling up beside her.

“John Adams—” Mika cut over her daydream, but the little girl’s voice was lacking her usual enthusiasm whenever she showed them one of her accomplishments.

Amanda flickered her eyes at Carol, her hand continuing to color the stubble over the picture. “Benjamin Franklin, Alexander Hamilton, John Jay—” Carol leaned on in her as Mika continued counting.

“She started having nightmares—” Carol whispered. Amanda’s hand stopped over the baby book as Judith patted her hands on it with glee, making sounds.

“—Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and George Washington.”

Amanda hauled up Judith over her lap closer, holding the book firmer. “Nightmares?” she whispered back, her eyes still on Mika. Finished with the names, Mika started playing with her doll Amanda had found for her.

Carol gave her another glance covertly. “She’d been having troubles with sleep for days. I finally made her talk today. She said she was seeing Lizzie in her dreams before she—” Carol paused too, her usually placid, cool tones wavering, “Before she killed herself.”

Amanda closed her eyes. She’d been so self-involved, so self-absorbed with herself, she’d missed that, too! Of course, she was having nightmares! Mika had always acted cool, but she’d witnessed her older sister shoot herself in the head!

The anger found her with stark guilt again. She wanted to scream. She wanted to rip off—something—perhaps even herself, but instead she bowed her head and went on coloring the stubble.

She was going to make everything better. She was. She wasn’t going to disappoint them this time. She would find a way. She didn’t care if she disappointed Deanna or anyone else in the town, but she wasn’t going to disappoint Beth, or Mika, or Judith.

Her hand caressed Judith gently as Amanda leaned forward and kissed Mika’s head.

The day passed like that, and Amanda was a bit surprised. She’d expected Rick to come back as soon as he was done with Deanna, even readied herself for a fight, but it seemed he didn’t want to do it, either.

Amanda didn’t mind, in fact, she appreciated it. A fight with Rick was the last thing she wanted right now, even though she felt like they were trying to avoid the inevitable. They were going to have to talk sooner or later. Things were already bad between them before she left and only became worse now. Lately, it was the same feeling with Rick, even though Amanda still didn’t know for sure what it was that inevitable thing they’d been avoiding.

Rick only came after sunset. They quickly ate supper, then he jerked his head at her silently. Understanding it was finally time for a talk, Amanda gave a brief nod back before she followed him out on the porch.

Instead of his usual place at the front over the railings, Rick turned around the corner and walked to the back deck. It was empty. Daryl was still inside the kitchen. Amanda understood Rick wanted more privacy as he headed to the small steps and leaned against the corner of the railings. He looked at her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Amanda read the defensive position but didn’t beat the bush any longer. She was fed up with it. “What did you talk with Deanna?” she asked openly.

Rick answered with the same openness. “She wants you to start seeing Denise.”

 

Notes:

All right, Amanda is off to see Denise finally! Since the beginning of this story, I've been waiting to make her sit down in front of Denise and you know, start working on her issues, because let's face it, the poor girl needs therapy. There will be scenes between her and Denise, and her past is going to reveal a bit more too during those sessions, too, something else I've been waiting for a long time, too.

Rick and Amanda are going to have a talk in the next chapter, yeah. I know, finally! How it's going to be...we'll see. Poor Rick, finally told someone he loved her as he wanted to ask her to move in with him, but instead, he had to break the news to her about Denise and therapy. Hehe.
I'd thought to stop updating here, like I said, I'm liking this, so I think, I'm going to close up this arc too with the D.C subplot within this week, moving the story towards the end of first half, which is Chapter 25. Then I think I can finally take a break, lol.

That being said, for the last chapters, we chatted a lot with Beth and Carl fans, even spoiled them with sneak peeks for the future chapters, hehe, and it was great, thank you! But Rick/Amanda fans, where are you? Are you still reading? Or it's only Beth and Carl fans now are still reading. You know what they say, 'make some noise' lol. :)

Chapter 21: 'This is us'

Summary:

Breaking the news about Denise and the therapy to her, Rick finally talks to Amanda...

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“No—” Amanda shook her head and continued because she couldn’t say it enough. “No. No. No… No fucking way!”

“Amanda—”

“Don’t even Amanda at me!” she fumed in, glaring at him. “I’m not going to fucking therapy!”

She wasn’t. Were they mad? Therapy? Right now? The woman had wanted Beth to see Denise and Amanda had refused even then, but herself suffering through those again? Never. Never again!

She was done things being forced down on her. She’d enough of that for a lifetime. She didn’t care. If they would kick her out because of insubordination or something, go ahead! Amanda Shepherd wasn’t going to sit in front of a shrink, a counselor, or questioner ever again! They’d twisted her arm with those enough. She wasn’t going back there.

Rick gave her a look. He looked like now how he usually looked when dealing with Carl, barely holding on to his temper, trying to stay…civil. His head bowing, he rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. Another time the gesture, his weariness might have winded her down, but this time it only managed to make a dent in her fury.

Going to the treatment because she had disappointed the town’s leader?

It damn was like Dawn all over again! The next thing she would get questioned with IA!

“What else, Rick?” she barked out, “Are you two going to send me off to IA’s equivalent here, too?” she sneered, “Am I gonna answer how I’m sleeping at night?!” she bit off.

Rick’s eyes turned to her after that, and Amanda cursed herself. The speculations were clear in his clear but stern eyes. Amanda had already told him she’d killed someone on duty. They knew what that meant.

Amanda shook her head. “I’m not going, Rick.”

His resolve to contain his temper broke with that. “Well, Amanda, perhaps you should think of that before breaking someone’s nose!”

It fueled her anger too. “Go fuck yourself, Rick—” she lashed out, turning away to go inside the house. “I can’t have your hissy fit right now.”

She was fed up with that, too! She started moving but Rick caught her elbow.

He turned her back to him, his blue eyes glaring at her, widened, as he leaned forward. “M-my hissy fit?” he echoed, and his voice sounded incredulous. “You are telling me I have hissy fits? Really?”

Amanda stared at him. They were really going to have the fight she had been trying to avoid. “I told you!” Rick went on, his eyes flaring sharply as he took a step in on her. “I told you to let them go. I told you to stay, goddammit!” He shook his head. “You just couldn’t let it go!”

She tilted up her chin. If it was a fight that he wanted, he was going to get it. “Couldn’t let go what?” she spat lowly, but Rick continued as if she didn’t ask anything.

“All I wanted this morning was to stay with you, Amanda, all I wanted was lying there with you in my arms. But what did you do instead? You just woke up, started panicking, then instead of sorting it out with me, you threw a hissy fit—” he spat back, leaning over her closer, “before ran away and almost got yourself and Beth killed with those idiots!”

For a second, Amanda thought of slapping him, she really did, not even break his nose! No. Just slap him right in his face!

Rick sighed deeply.  “Y-you—” he muttered, bowing his head. “Sometimes you remind me of cats, Amanda, but you’re not. You’re like a hedgehog. You crave for contact, but whenever someone gets close to you, you pull out your quills and sting.”

His words found their way into her chest like small sheds of broken glass. She nodded silently, swallowing hard, then without a word, she turned. But before she could take a step away, Rick caught her again, this time at her wrist.

Amanda quickly grabbed his hand and twisted it away in a quick, deft move, jerking it away from her. “Leave me alone before I break another nose today and get my ass expelled out!” she bit off.

His hand loosened. Amanda let him go, too.

“Amanda—" his voice was now soft, and it broke something in her too.

“You’re a hypocrite, Rick. You talk like you’re the expert on this relationship stuff—” She made quotation marks with her fingers, “But you’re as bad as me, if not worse!”

“What happened last night, huh?” she questioned, taking a step closer to him. “What made you like that? Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, tilting her head side, giving him a dry smile as he stared at her. “Or would you still prefer to fuck me at my ass?”

His jaw set up as his expression soured even more. Amanda scoffed, shaking her head. “Jingle my memory, Rick. How was that saying?” she shot back curtly his words in the barn. “The one about the people living in glass houses and throwing stones?”

Without waiting for his reply, she spun on her heels and started going inside the house again. “Denise waits for you at ten o’clock in the morning at Deanna’s.”

Amanda almost screamed, turning to him once more. “I’m NOT going!”

“You don’t have any choice—” Rick replied plainly, his voice chilled as much as his face. “And she’s restricted you to joining to the supply runs, too.”

Amanda lost it then, lost it truly. “WHAT?” she shouted, marching back to him. “You—you asked her, didn’t you? You asked her to keep me inside! Rick! How could you?”

She couldn’t fucking believe it!

But Rick shook his head as furious as she was, pulling away from the railings to meet her. “I knew you were going to blame me for this, too!” he fired at her face. “Won’t even give me the benefit of doubt! Of course, it had to be me, right?”

“You don’t want me to go out, Rick. Don’t even try to deny it!”

“If it weren’t me—” he sneered. “She wasn’t even going let you out of the walls until Denise clears you off. I told her not to do it!” He paused and fixed at her a glaring stern look, his eyes once more like frosted glass but not because of lust, but anger and hurt.

It made everything into a further turmoil in her, his anger, his hurt. She was hurting him. She didn’t want to do it, but she was hurting him, much like he was hurting her.

He looked at her again with those eyes as Amanda swallowed. “Sometimes I wonder how a woman as smart and attractive as you are could’ve stayed without even dating that long, but really…” he drawled out a sigh, trailing off, bowing his head, and those broken shards of glass moved deeper in her chest, in her heart.

The silence between them stretched out. Rick lifted his head as if he’d caught up what he just said. His eyes softening with guilt, he took a step closer to her as Amanda stepped back, her legs moving on her own.

“Amanda—” His hand reached out to her, his eyes clouding more with regret, but Amanda jerked away from his touch. “Mandy—baby. I-I’m sorry—please.”

She shook her head and turned around and stalked back to the house.

She was so hurt, even her tears felt frozen inside her. She blinked her dried, pricking eyes, swallowing forcefully again, she couldn’t even breathe properly, a tightness settling just at the bottom of her throat.

Usually, at this point, Rick would’ve let her go, too, both of them drawing to their corners, but this time he didn’t. He stopped her once more, but without touching her. He called out to her before she walked through the screen door with a voice so low Amanda almost missed it.

“I kept thinking about how to ask you to move in with me all morning—” Frozen in her steps, Amanda felt her heart burst out of her chest for a moment, together with broken shards and all.

Trying to swallow through that tight lump in her throat, Amanda turned to face him.

His head was bowed, staring at the wooden floor instead of her, Rick kept talking with that tone. “Carl wants to move out. He asked me he could go to the garage today. He realized we stayed out last night. He told me he didn’t want us to do that.” 

He raised his head as Amanda started walking to him slowly. “He said he wants his own place. I thought perhaps the attic would be too, I don’t know. I still don’t feel at ease with him being outside the house.”

He was trying to do what she thought perhaps they were both unable to, emotionally unavailable, Amanda thought for a second, but he was trying; talking, sharing…trying to open himself up to her.

“Clarice and he—they escaped today from the wall.” Amanda stopped in front of him as Rick bowed his head again, tucking the tips of his fingers inside his jeans as drawing back, leaned back against the railings.

“Escaped?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” His eyes raised at hers. “She dared him to climb the walls, and he did.” He smiled at her tiredly a little, small but earnest. It warmed inside his eyes further. “You told me those girls were up to no good. Guess you were right.” Lifting his head again, he sighed. “He brought her out. They killed a walker. Beatrice understood. Had a fit. We almost left to look for them.”

“What happened?” she asked, almost astonished.

Rick shrugged. “Nothing bad. They came back. Carl, thank god, didn’t lose his mind that much.” He smiled again with that tired smile. “They came back soon after.” Amanda nodded. “Deanna sent Clarice to Denise too—” he told her, flicking his eyes up at hers again.

Amanda frowned. “What?”

“Yeah. Denise’s hands gonna be full, I guess, by this estimation.”

“Why?” Amanda asked again, “What else happened?”

“I saw Beatrice and Pete Anderson together in the background over the pond.”

Her eyes widened as she leaned over him, couldn’t help herself. “What?!

“Yeah.”

Amanda shook her head. “I left only for a couple of hours and everything turned upside down again—" she muttered.

She meant perhaps the words to reduce the tension between them a bit more, but Rick’s gaze grew heavier as he turned to her fully and looked at her openly.

“Amanda, I feel it. It’s started again. This buzz in me.” She understood what he meant. Amanda had started feeling too. That tingling, and yes, his name started ringing in the air, which was never good news.

“Please, go to Denise,” Rick continued, his eyes still glued on hers as his tone took a notch rougher with emotions Amanda knew he kept bottling up inside himself, much like her. “Just sit there, if you don’t want to talk, but go. We need to calm down. If you still feel uncomfortable, if you still don’t want it, I swear I will stop Deanna.”

His voice had that fierce fire in it when he’d told her if he had to kill all the sonofabitches up to D.C to find them to a place to settle down he was going to do it, so Amanda didn’t question it. Instead, she nodded. She didn’t want things to turn to that. She didn’t. She’d said yes to take the guns, but she didn’t want that. She was tired of it.

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. “Okay.” She was going to do it. If that was what she had to, she was going to suck it up, too. They couldn’t lose this place. She paused a little before she opened her eyes.

“It was Beth—” she said, resting herself beside him over the railings as she looked at the house. It was past dinner time now, the house lighting up again. Rick had waited to talk to her until now. If they started coming clean, Amanda…found herself wanting to do it, too. She didn’t think, just rolled with it. “I found yesterday she was carving ouroboros into the trees over the ponds.”

“Your tattoo?” Rick asked.

Amanda gave a little nod. “My tattoo she’d drawn over Maggie’s grave.” Tears almost welled in her eyes again, her voice cracking as the guilt found her, this time even heavier with the fear she’d lived through today. “Almost all the trees got them, Rick. She must’ve been doing it for days. I found it yesterday. Yesterday. I didn’t notice. I asked her today. S-she told me it took me long enough to notice. Told me I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Amanda—”

She shook her head, her voice this time thoroughly cracking, her eyes welling. “And I wasn’t—” she replied, swallowing forcefully, her throat so tight, so burning. “Y-you’re right. We’re slipping. I didn’t notice Beth. I didn’t notice Mika. She started having nightmares. It’s like all over prison again. We didn’t notice rats before. If we did—Lizzie—”

Turning her to him, he stopped her taking her face in his hands.

“Hey—” He stared at her eyes. Amanda ran them away. “Hey, Amanda, look at me. It won’t be like the prison. I promise. Baby, it won’t, please.” Her tears slipped. Amanda felt their wetness trail down over her cheeks as Rick’s thumbs gently wiped them away.

“I—”

His lips pressing on hers as gentle as his fingers, Rick didn’t let her speak. He kissed her so slowly, barely touching, their kiss tasting savory and salty with her tears. Pulling back a few seconds later from the chaste kiss, Rick took her in his embrace.

His eyes moved down under her collarbone where his necklace was still adorning her neck, and his fingers brushed the snowflake. “Amanda, this is us—” he told her, though for a moment Amanda couldn’t be sure if he was talking about the kiss or the necklace, or perhaps both. He jerked his head at the garage. “Not that. Do you remember our first kiss?”

Just like he’d kissed her seconds ago—soft, gentle, slow. She shook her head, tears leaking more. “You kissed me because you thought you would never see me again, Rick.”

“Amanda, no. I kissed you because I wanted to,” he replied. “I wanted to take you in my arms and kiss you. For a long, long time. I still want to do it, baby.” Her head started turning as she realized what he was asking her. “Each night, each morning.”

She blinked at him, her heart galloping in her chest. “Will you let me?”

There were no words in her. She couldn’t even find her voice. She could just bob her head into a little nod before she closed in on him and lay her head on his chest, close to his heart. It drummed as loud as hers. Amanda listened to its beats, almost shivering.

“Amanda, everything will be okay, I promise—” she heard Rick’s soft murmurs in her hair, but she still couldn’t speak. She was just sinking further in his chest, melting in him, burning. Her eyes closed.

His lips brushed over her hair. She shivered with the contact again. Rick tightened his arms over her.

“I-I got so afraid today when I saw Beth like this—” she sputtered the words, still feeling melting in his chest as his arms brought her even closer to him as Amanda lived the moment again, the way her limbs frozen, her eyes stuck on Beth and the walkers while she still fought with the other dead, Nicholas still trying to make the shot, Amanda screaming at him to get him down… “I kept yelling at Nicholas to aim for the legs to trip them, but he just didn’t listen to me.”

There was no more anger in her words, just stark hurt, and fear of loss. Her tears hastening, she felt them over her cheeks as they wetted his shirt. Rick swayed her in his arms gently. “It passed now. You’re both here. You’re both safe.”

She raised her eyes at him over his chest. “Are you still angry at me because I broke his nose?”

He shook his head a little with a small warm smile. “No. If you didn’t, I would’ve done it myself.” He paused. “Honestly, I still think of breaking his jaw, knocking his teeth out.”

She made out a little sound. She didn’t even know it was a giggle or a sob. “I suggest not. Deanna might send you to Denise.”

“Yeah, she told me that too.”

Her head whipped up at his chest, her eyes widening. She tried not to think what kind of a scene she was with her red eyes and tear-stricken face, but Rick only nodded at her, kissing the tip of her nose in answer.

His hand rose and touched the side of her cheek again. “We move Carl out, deciding what he prefers, the attic or the garage, then you talk with Beth, okay?”

Her newly found odd giddiness left her abruptly as Amanda realized moving in with Rick also meant moving out from Beth. Somehow Amanda had slipped away that part again in his embrace. She pushed herself a bit, trying to think more levelheaded. His arms were making her mushy.

Rick read her withdrawal at the same moment. “Amanda—”

She shook her head. “What if she gets mad, Rick?” she asked. “She was already mad at me today I got late and was snappish because I didn’t notice the trees.”

There was the other little discussion about leading and Amanda being in charge, but she didn’t know what to think of that, Abraham’s offer and her accepting it, so she shooed them away. She couldn’t deal with them now. She supposed she should talk to Rick about the mission D.C, what she’d accepted today, but she wasn’t ready about it, having another…hissy fit with Rick when they just made up again. She also hadn’t still missed that Rick still didn’t mention what exactly had happened last night either.

It wasn’t like that they’d become gurus on relationships and sharing in a matter of a few minutes, but they had a start, so they were good, she supposed. Only she didn’t want to leave Beth. She shook her head again. “I can’t—” she said, looking up at Rick. “I can’t do it if she’s not ready.”

“She’s seventeen years old, Amanda—” Rick told her. “She needs her personal space as much Carl does.”

“She’s not well—” Amanda encountered. “She needs me.”

His eyes narrowed an inch, speculations going behind his eyes loud and clear, but this he kept them to himself, only jerking his head slightly. “Okay. You talk to her tomorrow. See how she feels about it. Then we talk about it.”

Amanda nodded, then they elapsed into silence. Amanda flicked her eyes to him. “Do you have a shift tonight?” Amanda was off today because of the supply run. Rick usually took the midnight shifts.

But he shook his head. “No. I ran my name off for tonight.” Amanda gave him a look. He shrugged but didn’t say anything. “Let’s go upstairs and watch a movie?” he asked her suddenly, taking her in his embrace again. “After you go back to Beth’s room, ‘kay?”

She didn’t correct it was technically still her room, but only nodded back. The master bedroom had a small TV and a DVD player, like most of the couples that liked spending time in the bed watching TV. Amanda had thought about it a few times and doing it with Rick—in the bed—in the bed that would be her bed tomorrow excited her and scared her so much she forced herself to stop thinking about it, fearing she might freak out again.

Before she could go further on that thought, Rick grasped her hand. Amanda understood they were going to have another walking into hand-to-hand moment again. She tried to ready herself for it too.

They stepped into and stopped in front of the living room’s doorstep as Rick searched the room, his hand still in hers. Amanda bowed her head, stared at the floor. “Carl—” Rick called out, spotting his son.

Amanda saw Carl’s feet approaching them. “We watch TV upstairs. You’re with Judy, okay?”

“Yeah, dad.”

Amanda flicked her eyes up and saw Rick gave him a nod. “Come back when she sleeps, okay? Amanda will go back to Beth’s room.”

Again, Beth’s room. Amanda picked it up, but Carl didn’t. She ran her eyes away again, spotting Carol and Joan seizing them up closely. Amanda almost heaved a sigh. “She—she doesn’t need to. I—I can stay in the living room tonight.”

“No. We do it tomorrow. Move you out properly.” Bowing her head again, Amanda felt heat emitting out of her every pore, her heart started galloping in her chest again.

“Okay—” she heard Carl’s response.

“Movies?” Rick asked then. “What can we watch?”

“Um—” Carl mused out. “How about Harry Potter?” he asked. “They even had a Half Blood Prince?”

Rick turned to her; Amanda felt it. She lifted her head. “Uh, okay. I like Harry Potter.”

Carl gave her a look. “Read the books?”

She nodded. “Then it’s Harry Potter,” Rick said before tilting his head at Carl. “Fetch it for us, will you?”

Carl ran back toward the home theater system in the living room as Amanda almost raised an eyebrow. She looked at Rick questionably.

“Talked with him this morning, too.” The way he sounded…proud, almost made Amanda smile at him. He looked so…boyish for a second, Amanda also forgot they’d been tearing each other apart again, Rick telling her those awful things…calling her a hedgehog.

Letting his hand go, Amanda crossed the room and took Cinnamon from Beth. Rick’s expression first had flicked when she let his hand, but as soon as he saw her picking up her little tabby, it relaxed again. She’d missed her kitten.

She gathered the baby tabby up at her bosom, her fingers already stroking her small head, as she looked at Judith. The baby girl was patting her hands happily over her book. Her sight burst something in her chest too, not hurting, just…bursting.

She turned to Rick slowly. “Uh—Rick—” she tentatively called out, couldn’t help herself. “W-we take Judith, too?”

His fingers touched her cheek as Rick gave her a warm smile. “We do it tomorrow night, okay?” he asked. “I want to be alone with you tonight.”

Her heart started beating madly again in its cage, but Amanda gave another nod. “’kay.”

Carl brought the DVD and they started climbing the steps, her arms fondling Cinnamon at her chest as Rick padded beside her. Her brain was still trying to catch up with her, with them, they were going to Rick’s room to watch Harry Potter—her room.

It was going to be her room. She’d accepted to share a room with him and Judith. They’d been fighting half of an hour, then she’d said okay. It was bizarre, but she stopped herself overthinking once again afraid she might have another…hissy fit.

I kept thinking about how to ask you to move in with me all morning. He’d thought about it, Amanda knew. It wasn’t a spur of the moment like before, something he’d sputtered out without thinking. He’d pondered about it, measured the idea, contemplating on it, then asked her. The inclinations turned her insides jelly again as much as it frightened her. She felt tension building in her but forced herself to relax. It was okay. They were okay. They could do it. They both wanted to do it.

With anyone else, she couldn’t dare to take such a leap, but with Rick, she could do it. He was different. They were different. She got closer to him as they crossed the hall towards the master bedroom, and brushed her shoulder at his. Turning to her, Rick gave her one of his small smiles that warmed her insides.

He opened the door, and walking in, Amanda set down Cinnamon on the floor. When she straightened up, Rick pushed her against the door and started leaning over on her, the baby tabby slipping away between her feet as Amanda slid backward. She softly giggled as her back hit on the door.

“Rick—” He silenced her with a kiss.

She waited for a passionate, open-mouthed, heated kiss, but he only gave her another chaste one, playful and lazy. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, returning it with the same playfulness, smiling against him. His lips pulling out, Rick did the same too.

Amanda thought she really could get used to this. It was so nice, so good. He smelled so good. Amanda understood he’d taken a shower before coming to the dinner as soon as he’d come back, smelling fresh soap that she’d become habituated with him. She tilted her head, brushing her lips over his stubble, and sniffed against his neck, inhaling his scent through her.

Her nose rubbed at him, Rick chuckled out softly, threading his fingers through the nape of her neck. “My kitten—”

She raised her eyes at him over his neck. “I thought I was a hedgehog—” she muttered.

There was no bite in her words this time. It…hurt her when Rick called her like that, but not now, not when they were like this. “Ah, let’s say you’re a curious hybrid.” She let out a low giggle. “My honey bun—” he continued, smiling, and now he was flirting with her, and Amanda liked it.

Bowing his head, he sniffed her neck too. “Smelling honey milk and cinnamon.”

Pulling back an inch, she shook her head. “Liar. I was inside the kitchen when Carol cooked. I smell awful.”

This time Rick grinned at her like a schoolboy. “You caught me.” She bumped his shoulder faintly. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. When he saw chafffs, Rick’s eyes grew heated.

“Amanda, promise me you won’t do anything like that again—” he told her, his lips still lingering over her knuckles. “I almost lost my mind when I saw you like that.”

She pulled her hand back, her stomach tightening again. Her face stiffened. “I—I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Please—” she said, looking at him. She didn’t. She’d said yes to going to Denise, but she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She just wanted to watch a movie with him.

Rick nodded as if understanding. “Why don’t you take a shower?” he suggested. “I’ll find you something to wear, ‘kay?” She nodded, suddenly feeling the unease again for different reasons. Sharing a bedroom, a bathroom, changing clothes in front of each other.

“Um—can you give them now?” she asked.

Rick gave her a look silently but didn’t say anything as if he understood again. He turned and walked to the closet. He pulled one of his white tee shirts and pulled out the blue boxer shorts Amanda had seen him wearing when they’d escaped the prison. She looked at them, feeling her cheeks flushing. She bowed her head, taking them from his hands quickly, and trotted to the bathroom.

She could feel Rick’s gaze on her back. “I’ll bring your toothbrush too—” he said before she vanished behind the door. She almost told him she wasn’t going to stay for the night, but Rick wanted to relax her, she realized, so she didn’t. A couple of minutes later, there was a knock on the door as Amanda shed her clothes after she finished using the toilet, and opening the door ajar, she took her toothbrush.

Inside the shower, she saw the honey milk body wash she used, and the one Rick never used, and she knew it was stocked for her. The sight of it tightened her stomach again, and she swallowed forcefully. Her mood swings had become a bit too much even for her to handle, so she stepped in the shower. She wondered if they would have sex…in the bed.

Amanda stopped that thought. Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think, she chanted herself over and over again, just stood under the water jet, not letting herself think about what had happened the last time she was in here, either. Goodness, they’d been fucking each other wildly for days. There was no reason, no fucking reason to return to that again, but there she was, squirming with the thought of sharing the bed with Rick like a virgin on her wedding night.

Sometimes she was as hopeless as Rick had said. Sometimes I wonder how a woman as smart and attractive as you are could’ve stayed without even dating that long.

She silenced those words too and left the shower. She quickly dried herself, changing into the slim white tee and boxers. She folded the beltline a couple of times until it fit her slimmer waist, consequently making it raised over her hips. It left all of her legs open as the white shirt’s hem licked the blue boxers’ edges. Glancing at herself, Amanda told herself wearing his underwear without anything underneath was perfectly okay. She wrapped another towel around her wet hair and left the bathroom, holding the hairbrush in her hand.

Despite her assurance, when she was stepped out, Rick’s eyes found her as he fiddled with the DVD player and stayed on her. They grew heated with another fire too, something more familiar in the last day, passionate and lustful, eyeing her openly as she walked gingerly towards the bed.

Amanda settled at the edge of the bed, Rick’s gaze still following, turning around bodily. “The bathroom is yours—” she muttered, bowing her head and unwrapped the towel.

All in frankness, she wanted him gone for a moment, leaving her alone until she settled again. His eyeing was making her all more…nervous. Again, understanding her, Rick padded toward the closet, took washed clothes, a white tee-shirt, and boxers, but also added fading grey sweatpants to his bundle. Amanda wondered if it was for her sake because he didn’t want to set her off more by sitting in his underwear in the bed.

Amanda appreciated the thought, almost ask him for pants too. She could always say it was cold. Rick vanished behind the bathroom door. She lifted her head, tossing her hair back too, and started brushing her hair. She heard the water sounds inside the bathroom as she combed her hair, looking around, the bed, the crib, the closet, the vanity, the floor mirror at the corner.

God, she had never noticed but from a certain angle, the tall mirror was directly facing the bed.

Her face flushed, looking at it, seeing herself sitting at the edge of the bed, staring… The bathroom door opened. Amanda jumped on the bed, her head whipping up at it. Rick emerged out, fully clothed. Her chest swelled with emotions as their eyes met and he smiled at her warmly again.

His hair was wet as much as hers, but he let them open as Amanda wrapped them inside the towel again and folded like a turban over her head. Rick gave her another smile and walked toward the TV. “Ya ready?”

Amanda nodded, climbing up over the bed. “Yeah.” She turned back and sat down, rustling up the pillows, her back against the headboard. “You saw the movie?” she asked.

Rick shook his head. “No. I was going to take Carl, but he went with friends. Lori took him. I had a shift.” Amanda gave another small nod. “You?” Rick asked her back.

She shook her head. “No. But I read all of the books.”

Starting the DVD, he turned and walked to the bed. “Don’t give me spoilers.” Amanda laughed faintly, scooting up over the bed to give him room beside Judith’s crib. It was his place. Rick slid in quickly inside the comforter but pushed them down over his lap.

The next second Amanda heard the infamous entrance music of the Harry Potter series, tones mystical and mysterious as Rick raised his arm and tucked her under it. Amanda skid over at his side, gliding over the sheet. She had missed this, they’d never done it like this in the living room, but she still so missed it. Rick tilted his head down with that small, earnest warm smile, his arm wrapping over her more to bring her closer. “I like this music.”

She smiled back at him, craning her head up. “Me too.”

In five minutes, his hands uncoiled the towel around her hair, and let it fall. He threw away the towel over the bed’s foot as his fingers started playing with her wet hair. Her head moved over his chest closer. “I’m gonna get your shirt wet again—”

Rick shook his head a little. “It’s okay. Don’t worry.”

In ten minutes, she fidgeted on her side, and threw her leg over his, draping herself over him further as they both just watched Harry and his gang trying to make with Snape’s class. “I don’t like this guy—” Rick remarked as Amanda settled herself more over him, his hand stroking over the curve of her side slowly over the t-shirt.

Amanda looked at him incredulously, her eyes widened. “You don’t like Snape?” she echoed back.

His hand slipped under her shirt and found her bare skin. “Yeah. Give me creeps. I—” he breathed out, then shut his mouth.

Amanda sighed as his callous fingers trailed over up her side slowly. “You would send him off him, right?” she asked, lifting her head, “If he were here.”

Rick shrugged. “Yeah. Possibly.”

“He was the hero of the story, Rick.”

His eyes squinting, he bowed his head to give her a look while his hand slowly found his way up and curled up around her breast. “I thought Harry Potter is the hero of the story.”

“Well, he is—” Amanda admitted, feeling the callous palm gently rubbing over the swell of her breast the way she liked it, not too sensual, but…nice. “But Snape…uh, saves the day, I guess. He—”

“Shhs—” he stopped her, warning again. “Don’t give spoilers.”

She giggled, turning back to the movie. His hand dutifully stayed where it was, fondling her breast as they watched the movie, not going further, not making another move, just stayed there, cupped over her breast.

Amanda surmised he just liked doing it lazily as they lounged together when she also realized her hand slipped under his tee-shirt and started stroking his stomach. She didn’t know when it had happened, but when she realized it was already half of the movie, and Rick’s breaths had grown a bit…more hitched, his skin more flushed.

She wasn’t doing any better too, she was so flushed with heat despite being almost naked under the comforter that only covered half of her, but her body tangled with Rick’s didn’t let her feel any chill.

Her head raised when on TV, Harry and his gang started running like mad and she looked at Rick as he looked down at her, his hand still cupping over her breast. Their eyes fixed on each other Amanda reached out to him as Rick dipped his head.

They started kissing.

Soft, gentle, slow, it felt like the first time he’d kissed her before they said goodbye. I kissed you because I wanted to. Raising her arm, Amanda coiled it around his neck and hauled herself up over his lap completely. It was the only incentive Rick needed. His hand leaving her breast, circled her waist quickly before he flipped them over and lay her on her back on the mattress.

He hovered above her—the forgotten movie playing in the background as they stared at each other. Dipping over in her, Rick started slowly kissing her again. He was so slow today—not the wild, savage beast with that intense craze, but so soft, so gentle, his touch, his kisses were the kindest. And it suited him more; Rick always knew kindness more than he knew violence.

Amanda wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he nestled himself between her legs further. Something inside her fluttering, something in her core, not only that throbbing, clawing need but gentle fluttering wings. She started moving under him, moaning in their leisure lingering kiss when Rick cupped the side of her face with one hand as gentle as he had cupped her breast. His other hand was stroking her side slowly. Amanda bent her knees and tucked her feet between his legs, loosely hooking them.

It was a drawled slow move, nothing too passionate, but it still incited something inside Rick as he deepened the kiss. Amanda didn’t know how long it took, but they only parted away from each other when breathing became their utmost priority, not a second before.

Resting his forehead gently on hers, Rick smiled down at her. “Ya good?”

Amanda nodded, loosening her legs beside his sides. “Yeah. You?”

His eyes found hers. “Never been better—” he whispered to her, his lips pulling up.

Something swelled in her again with the words, and Amanda wanted to believe it. Rick wasn’t someone to tell stuff like this carelessly, but even Amanda knew a girl shouldn’t believe what a man said in the bed. But Rick was still looking at her with those eyes, with that smile, so Amanda almost halfway convinced that he truly meant it—a slow knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

When she craned her neck up, she saw the movie had already finished. Jesus Christ. For how long they’d been kissing in the bed, lost to everything else in the world?

Drawing away up from her embrace, Rick went to open the door as Amanda pulled herself up in the bed, pulling the comforter over herself more. It was Beth.

“Hey—” the teenager said as Amanda also heard Judith’s small baby cries in the background as Rick opened the door ajar. “Carl sent her up. She’s started making a fuss,” Beth went on. “Carl said he’s gonna sleep on the couch. I brought Amanda’s PJs too.”

Her heart started galloping in her chest, as Amanda threw off the comforter, and jumped down over the bed. She didn’t hear any…spite in her tone, but she had to be sure. She ran to the door. “Beth—”

“Hey, Amanda—” Beth stopped, eyeing her clothes as she passed Judith to Rick. “Ah, I see you found yourself clothes to wear.”

“I was coming back tonight—” Amanda replied.

Beth shook her head. “No. You don’t have to. It’s okay, Amanda—” she added. “I’m okay.”

With that, she turned and left as Amanda looked behind her back, gnawing her bottom lip as something gnawed at her insides in the same way. Rick sighed deeply, closing the door. “Amanda—”

She shook her head, cutting him off. “I gotta go. I can’t leave her.”

“Amanda—” Rick repeated, his tone having an edge. “She said she’s okay. Let’s do this, okay?” he asked. “Beth needs to accept it, too.”

She frowned. “Beth’s always wanted us to be together, Rick.”

“Then she’s happy for us.”

Amanda didn’t have an answer for that. She expected Beth to be happy, but she didn’t know. It didn’t feel right. It just didn’t. She shook her head. Rick walked with her, in his arms Judith started softly crying. “Babe—” he called out to her, drawing closer, “We have to start somewhere.”

Her heartbeat accelerating, her eyes trailed over to him. Babe. It was the first time he’d called her like this, and Amanda liked it. Liked it so much. It felt so familiar on his tongue. She ran a hand over her face, passing it through her damp hair, and nodded. “I—‘kay.”

Rick left her PJs over the bed’s feet, but Amanda didn’t pick them up. She didn’t want to go to the bathroom again to change clothes and changing them here was still…awkward for her. Rick put Judith in the crib and started rocking the girl as Judith clutched tightly her stuffed giraffe in her tiny fist, raising her pump over at Rick in protest.

Amanda smiled at the baby. She sat beside Rick on the bed as he rocked the crib. He turned to her and smiled at her again. “You go tuck in. I’ll come when she sleeps.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s fine.” Everything was so bizarre Amanda couldn’t still wrap her mind around it. Perhaps she really should go back to her room. Her room?

Was it Beth's room now?

“Is she going to sleep there?” Amanda asked, eyeing the baby girl. Judith was still having it hard with sleeping alone without Rick and Carl.

Rick shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll see. Sometimes she does, sometimes doesn’t. Mostly she sleeps but starts crying later. I think she’s started cutting teeth, too.”

Amanda nodded. It was about time. She would put her into sleep easily but this time she let Rick did it, patiently waiting for the baby to sleep.

After a while, it did, soft wheezing protests became soft snores as Judith drifted into the sleep. Rick straightened tiredly, his hand massaging his back. He’d been working too much, too much.

“Let’s go to bed and sleep,” he told her, taking off his shirt, standing up, but left his PJs bottom as Amanda scooted back over the bed again to make room for him.

He closed the TV that was still on darkened as Amanda slipped inside the covers. Rick walked over to the windows and half drew back the drapes. Amanda watched him as he returned to the bed. “Judith doesn’t like dark,” he explained, sliding inside the covers too. “So I let the moonlight in.” He twisted to turn off the bed lamps. The room fell in darkness, but it wasn’t pitch dark like he’d said, as moonlight softly lightened the room seeping through the window. Amanda heard Judith’s soft snores. Rick was right. They were…settling.

Rick rolled on over the bed on his side, his back facing the door. Amanda almost told him not to do it. Never sleep his back on the door but telling that to Rick Grimes sounded incredulous.

His eyes looked at her intently. His hand raised over her cheek again, softly touching her before he brought her under his arm, rolling on his back, tucking her against his naked chest. Amanda moved over him without protest. She was passed beyond that.

His lips touched her forehead briefly before he tossed his head back against the pillow.

Amanda waited if he was going to make another move, but Rick stayed motionless, just lying down, so she closed her eyes. Sleep was eluding her, of course, and she was sure, despite his closed eyes and steady breaths, Rick was awake too.

She almost wished Judith cried and woke up so they could stop this, whatever it was…pretending sleep, lying in the bed in the dark. “Amanda, close your eyes—” she heard Rick mutter a few seconds later.

Goddammit! His eyes were still closed. How he could even know her eyes were open? “Just do it and sleep.”

“You’re not sleeping, either.”

“Yeah. I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

“For sleep.”

“This’s ridiculous.”

“Just do it.”

She sighed, closing her eyes. “Okay. Done. Closed.”

His lips brushed over her hair again. “Good.”

Her eyes closed, Amanda listened to his heart, beating under her, listened to his steady breaths mixing with Judith’s soft snores. They became a soft song to her ears, a wordless lullaby, everything slowing down again as if time had skipped to a halt. She felt warmness enveloping her as she lay still over his warm chest, her senses shrouded by his musky scent, her thoughts ebbing to silence before she passed into the dreamland.

When her eyes opened the next, Amanda blinked drowsily in the gloomy room, her eyes heavy with the remnants of sleep, his scent still in all of her senses. She was draped all over Rick, almost mounted on over him, her head tucked at his neck and his chest, her leg slid between his. His right hand was cupping her naked ass tightly, as the boxer she wore had ridden up further over her ass in sleep, leaving her completely bare. His other was at her side, securely keeping her just over his groin, where his hardness was poking at her over his pants.

Angling her head, Amanda understood it was around dawn; the sky was lightening, but the sun hadn’t truly broken yet.

Rick stirred under her with her movements, tightening his hands and brought her further over his erection, and his eyes cracked open. His eyes found hers, her head still tilted up and they stared at each other.

His hand over her ass started brushing a circular motion slowly as he slid his other one from her side over to her back, and it crawled upwards. Amanda trembled with sensation as it trailed over her spine on her tee-shirt. She wanted the garment gone too, wanted to feel his callous touch over her naked skin. She stirred again, swallowing, feeling something…leaking off her… Rick’s other hand slipped between her thighs, where she was truly naked and found her wetness.

Her arousal was as apparent as his, and Rick’s eyes darkened when he realized it too. His fingers stroked her folds, and Amanda let out a low moan, dropping her head back at his chest. Without even seeing him, she could feel his smirk.

Her lips brushed her chest hair over his skin as Amanda breathed him in her nostrils, even more, her head-turning, his fingers still stroking her gently... “Rick…” His name was a husky moan she whispered throatily.

That almost mystical …sluggishness she’d felt before she’d drifted into sleep was still lingering with them, hazed more with their desire for each other. But it wasn’t a craze, was still languid so Amanda wasn’t surprised when Rick rolled them over slowly and had her tucked beneath him.

When Amanda felt his weight on her, she let out another moan, satisfied. It was so satisfying feeling him like this, his weight pressing her down in the soft mattress, his scent filling her nostrils, enveloping her again. She felt enveloped by him by every sense of the word. But they were still so many clothes between them.

As she bent her knees to accustom him further between her legs, her hands slid downwards, and her fingers found the waistline of his sweatpants he’d worn to the bed last night. For her sake, Amanda knew, and the notion brought another surge of feelings running over her wildly, her chest swelling with emotions that flooded her. God, she so wanted him—

But…but… She tilted her head up and found the crib beside the bed, only then the soft baby snores managed to register to her again. Following her gaze, Rick looked at Judith too, understanding what had made her hands at his waistline halt. They flicked back to her the next second. “She’s still sleeping—” Rick assured her, his voice a whisper too, holding her gaze.

Amanda swallowed. “But—” She paused. They couldn’t do it. She couldn’t have sex next to Judith. It—it didn’t sound right.

“Baby—” Rick whispered, turning her head back to him, tearing her eyes away from Judith. “We can’t keep having sex around in the town in secret. We have to do this. It’s fine—” he assured her again. “She’s sleeping, and we’ll be quiet.”

Rick sounded so certain, but Amanda still didn’t know. He dipped his head again, brushing his lips over her neck, mounting over her jaw slowly, his every kiss lingering, his stubble chaffing her skin. “Don’t think about it," Rick whispered to her, “Think this.”

To make his point, he gave her a soft, slow, gentle kiss. His hands raised and cupped her face too as he deepened the kiss, angling his head. This is us… his words reverberated in her, and he was right.

They should do it like this, not…not like that. She didn’t want to do like that anymore, fuck him in secret places whenever they had the opportunity. Amanda wanted to do this, each night, each morning. Judith was going to be a part of their life, she needed to get used to doing it, if she wanted this each night, each morning…

As if to silence her own questions, her hands tugged at his waistline slightly. Understanding her wish, still kissing her, Rick drew away an inch from her to let her ease down the sweatpants. He started moving his hips to help her as Amanda fiddled with them, her fingers curled around both his underwear and the pants at the same time. She wanted both of them gone.

In answer, Rick cut their kiss, moving his lips over her neck again as his hand skid down over her stomach to the edge of her shirt. Amanda momentarily stopped and raised her arms to help him as he rolled up her shirt and tore it off her. He quickly tossed it away on the floor before leaning back on her, sliding his head an inch to trail her collarbone with languorous kisses. Amanda returned to her mission, arching beneath him as his kisses moved over her breast, his tongue started fluttering over her perked nipples.

Her breath hitched and she gnawed her bottom lip when Rick closed his mouth over one of her nipples. Her hands almost having a tremor, she finally managed to shed his pants and his underwear over to his knees. Rick finished the rest of the job himself, kicking them off toward the bed’s foot as his hands found the waistline of his boxer short too and freed her off from it.

Then they were truly naked in each other’s arms. She wrapped herself around him quickly like it was a deep primal instinct in her; her legs coiling around the back of his knees at the same time her arms crossed over his back, nestling Rick between her thighs, where he belonged.

He was still trailing every inch of her skin as if he was mapping off her body with kisses. She ran her fingers over his back before her hands found his ass again. She squeezed him, trying to pull his hardness more over her core. She wanted him inside her, where he truly belonged… Rick groan at her skin, his teeth nibbling at her nipple. Amanda arched up against him even more under him, her arms tightening.

Their movements had developed a passionate urgency now, bordering over a husky area between that languorous languid pace and that lustful craze, as if they couldn’t decide to fuck or…she didn’t know…make love? This was what people called making love?

Amanda wouldn’t possibly know, but it really felt like they were…making love now…passionate love. More than just banging.

Jesus Christ, she didn’t know what she was talking about, but she didn’t want to stop. Arching against him further, she looped her legs over his hips tighter before she started grinding herself over his hardness.

“Rick—” she moaned, rocking along with him more and more, her hands clawing at his hips to bring him closer to her burning core. “I want you—” she whispered to his ear. “I want you so much, Rick.”

It was more than want, more than a need, but she couldn’t find other words. Rick’s eyes found hers and held her gaze. “I want you so much too.” His hand raised to the nape of her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair as suddenly without a warning, he jerked his hips and thrust forward, the tip of his cock splitting into her folds.

Her head tossed back, she arched even higher under him, squeezing her legs tighter. Rick pushed forward slowly, sliding in her wet tightness inch by inch. His movement now was as slow and gentle as when he kissed her, taking his sweet time as he moved in her lingeringly, his eyes riveted on hers.

Amanda didn’t know to beg him to stop it and hurry up or begged him not to ever stop. It was torture, the way he did it, but it was a sweet one, one that was turning her head upside down. But it was nothing when he filled her entirely. Something clinked within her, feeling his heated length stretching her folds, her legs tightening even further to hold him there, her hands leaving his ass to hug him over his back.

Rick still wasn’t in haste to move. He stayed between her legs like that, still looking at her. She thought for a moment he was going to say something as they stared at each other motionlessly. Amanda didn’t know, but she noticed she held her breath, nevertheless, waiting.

But he didn’t. He dipped her head the next second and started kissing her with another languorous kiss, his hands on her face and in her hair. Amanda returned the kiss, her hands crawling up over the side of his face too before they vanished inside his dark curls.

They were still so quiet in their motions, moaning lowly in their kiss when Rick started moving his hips again, as unhurried as he was before. It was torture, Amanda decided as they slowly rocked in each other’s embrace, a torture she didn’t mind.

They were making love. The knowledge was in her, without any doubt, without any suspicion, she just knew it. They weren’t only fucking. They were making love. It sounded damn cheesy, but she couldn’t think anything else.

She still didn’t want to stop. God, she never wanted to stop. They quickly developed a rhythm, just like their kiss; soft, tender, slow. His back drawn backwards, Rick was supporting himself on his palms on the mattress now while he stroked himself in her at his leisure, but this time Amanda wasn’t minding it, either; Rick Grimes doing stuff at his own time. In fact, she was quite enjoying it.

As if Rick also understood it, his head tilted down towards her, he looked down at her as he gave her another unhurried long thrust, rolling his hips which made her moan a bit deeper, a shiver passing over her.

She was trying to keep her moans low, still trying to stay quiet…but… Rick stroked in her again just like that, picking it up. Amanda slurred out a drawled groan, squeezing her thighs tighter in response. The feeling was in her at full force, the want, the desire to keep him inside her more, wanting him to be closer. Her hands across his back clawed at him with the strong urge, trying to drag him further on her.

Understanding her wish, Rick lowered himself on his elbows, his heavy look growing even more intense.

“Amanda, I want us to be like this—” he whispered to her, his hips rocking in her softly with each word as his hand became lost through her hair again before his fingertips found the side of her face. They brushed across her skin like a feather. “Each night, each morning—"

Amanda moaned as she leaned to his caress, his words reverberating in her core as his tender touch unwounded something in her even further. She wanted it, too. Them like this…making love like this each night, each morning, gazing at each other as they moved together slowly, quietly in an unspoken rhythm. It felt like they were completing something she’d always felt missing, a misfit piece of a puzzle that no one had ever known what to do with. Not Rick.

Rick knew what to do with her. She felt it in her strongly, emitting out of her every pore, like a flood tumbling everything in its path as Amanda felt they were open to each other in a level she’d never felt before. They were truly open and naked to each other without their armors as if there were no barriers left between them, unguarded—

Unguarded.

She stilled, realizing what exactly they were doing.

 They were having sex without a condom. Rick was thrusting in her skin-to-skin. Through all of her heightened feelings, the panic started rising in her. It wasn’t even she didn’t have one with her now. No. Amanda hadn’t even realized Rick had entered her without wearing one.

Understanding her sudden stupor, Rick’s rocking movements halted as he still gazed at her.

They should stop, shouldn’t do this. They had to. It was irresponsible, reckless, dangerous. When the first time they did it, Rick almost had come inside her. Amanda almost couldn’t let him go. She—they couldn’t do it. If she got pregnant—

The thought froze her completely.

“Amanda—” Rick called out to her lowly, his eyes pinching down, his face straining not with passion now. “Amanda—what happened?”

“Y-you're not wearing a condom—” she blurted in a whisper, running her eyes.

Rick caught her gaze again before he simply said. “I know.”

The words turned her head even more. She hadn’t realized, but Rick did. Of course, he did, but still did it. Her chest stringing hard, Amanda swallowed.

“I—I don’t have one—” she managed to whisper without knowing what else to say.

The thought brought another scare to her too, as Amanda remembered how furious he got when he realized she didn’t bring a condom to their date, trying to create herself a gateway. She didn’t think about that. She just didn’t put one on herself last night after she returned home from Deanna, and they’d used the one she’d had in the garage the last time. She didn’t want him to think that she’d done it purposely again.

“I— I didn’t think we…we’d have sex—” she quickly mumbled as they both stayed motionless, Rick still in her.

Rick smiled at her a bit after her explanation. “I know—” he said again. “I gave the one you handed me to Carl today.”

“Bad timing, eh?” She tried to joke, swallowing, because she didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d gone so badly in their…lovemaking she hadn’t realized Rick entered her without a condom.

“Yeah.” His eyes grew heavier. He was still hovering above her, still inside her, not moving an inch as his eyes captivated hers. “Do you want me to stop?”

The question almost burst her heart out of her chest, hearing it again from his lips. Don’t ask me that question ever again—

She wanted to say no, she didn’t want to stop. She wanted them to move on, move forward, do it. Have sex just like this, just how she felt seconds ago, truly open to each other she’d never felt before even when she had given in the garage and let him fuck her ass. She’d been open there, too, unguarded, vulnerable, but it didn’t feel…safe. Here, in the bed, in his arms like this, Amanda had felt safe.

But that moment was gone now, vanished as the moment she realized what they were doing. Her subconsciousness perhaps let it happen, but she wasn’t sure if they could find it again. A part of her wanted to try—wanted them really to move forward, but…the other part just felt scared.

Amanda swallowed again, staring at him. Rick read her reluctance loud and clear.

He started pulling out of her. It was so hard to breathe again, that tight lump setting low in her throat, her eyes getting hurt. She blinked, feeling tears pricking in her eyes. “Rick—”

He rolled on his back off her. “No. It’s okay—” Rick cut her off. Amanda couldn’t decide that hitch in his voice was because of hurt or because their sex was interrupted. “We find a new package,” he went on. “You were gonna ask Joan. Do it.”

She bobbed her head. One day the condoms were going to finish no matter what. Humanity had survived and procured without them for billions of years. They were going to have to do it without protection one day. No birth control was foolproof. Rick could control his climax, but there was the baby girl still snoring softly beside them that also reminded her Rick still was a man.

The sun was already broken, so sunlight started seeping over the windows, lightning them. Lying on her back, she slanted a sideways look at Rick, at the haggardly gruff expression over his face. “Rick—”

He cut her off, suddenly climbing to his feet. “I go to shower—” he mumbled, striding naked toward the bathroom.

Amanda stared at his back, trying to hold on to her tears. She slipped inside the covers, mostly to hide her nakedness. When he was back in the room, he quickly changed into his jeans and shirt and came to beside the bed. He bent down over the crib and brushed his lips over Judith’s hair. Twisting aside, he quickly gave Amanda a chaste kiss over her head too, but his eyes never looked at her.

“I’ll see ya later—” he muttered to her lowly before he left the room. After the door closed, Amanda curled up herself into a ball in the bed and started crying.

Notes:

Ah, they came very close, right? Heh. But they still have a lot of shit to resolve, and it's still not going to be easy, I'm afraid.

This is us, is the title of a famous tv show, and I think it really suits Amanda and Rick as a theme. This was kinda a big chapter, but I feel no joy to share right now, even to make an author note. I've only updated because it was sort of ready, and I wanted to get it out of my way. I'll update the rest of the chapters until Chapter 25, like I said, but I feel very unmotivated right now, especially for editing, so it might take a while.

Until then.

Chapter 22: 'And how that makes you feel?'

Summary:

When the other supply team returns to the town, the whole group need to make up their mind about going to D.C. In the meantime, Amanda goes to her first session with Denise.

Notes:

Blckwidow and fuseburner, I want to thank you for your kind understanding and your support. It really has made a difference for me, made me feel happier and less depressed. So thank you. I so much appreciate it in these hard pandemic days. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I'd never stop updating as long as I know people enjoying reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it. :)

This is a slow one, but needed to ready the story towards my 'the mid-season finale'. It's a sort of a two-parter too, will try to update the next one on this weekend.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Stepping out on the porch, Rick heaved deeply, the morning chill whipping at his face with the wind. He exhaled deeper breaths, walking to the railings, and held them bowing his head. He knew he’d almost ran out of the bedroom, but he couldn’t stay there now. Despite their best efforts, they just couldn’t settle down. One moment they fought, the next they got close, then something else came up.

It hurt. Her reluctance, not wanting to have sex with him without a condom, god, it hurt. It made little sense, he knew it was illogical, but it still did, and Rick didn’t even know why exactly. He understood her hesitance, her fears, god, even thinking of Amanda getting pregnant was enough to scare the shit out of him, living through that again, but at the same time, it hurt him.

Was it really that bad that even the distant prospect of it scared her frozen?

The sinister question was in the dark corridors of his mind, and even though the prospect scared him, another part of him couldn’t help but think on it.

Even with condoms, every time they had sex, they risked it. He was aware he wasn’t wearing it when he’d entered her. He knew it, yet continued. He had wanted to share that kind of intimacy with her when they finally sex in a bed, just like Rick had wanted for a long time; slowly, softly, taking his own sweet time. It was so good, it felt so good. She felt so good, Rick didn’t want to stop. They were making love, simple as that, they were making love in their bed, slowly, gently, openly, just like Rick wanted, and he didn’t want to stop.

Do you want me to stop?

Her silence just pierced something in his chest as much as the fact that he’d had to ask her that question again.

He’d almost told her he loved her, looking at her eyes, stroking her face as his hips thrust in her depths slowly. He wanted to say it openly, just like he’d done to Deanna. He wanted her to hear the words, wanted her to know it, but at the last moment, Rick realized he didn’t want it to happen in the bed while they had sex, either. Amanda would’ve taken it as a declaration that was uttered in the heat of the moment again just like she’d done before.

So Rick had kissed her instead, leaving it for another moment, and what happened afterward was telling him that he’d made the right call. Amanda wasn’t ready for it. She just had rolled with it, living the moment, but not realizing they were having unprotected sex. In the woods at their first time, she’d told him to continue, but this time she couldn’t, and Rick wasn’t sure what that meant, either.

Pulling away from the railings, Rick left the porch and started making his morning patrol. Stuffing his hands into his front pockets, he bowed his head as he bypassed the watch at the main gate. It was Jeff who was at guard, Nicholas’s teammate. The man glared at Rick, but Rick couldn’t even bother himself with it at the moment, only kept walking.

They still needed time. She just must’ve caught unguarded. In time, she was going to make her peace with the idea too. It wasn’t about the condoms, not really. Amanda was afraid of intimacy, unprotected sex as much as she feared an accidental pregnancy.

But she wanted it, at least on unconsciousness level she must have, the way she moved with him in the bed made Rick feel it. She met up with his every thrust, clinging onto him, gnawing at his shoulder to keep herself silent. She was so passionate, craving for the contact, her quills soothed, her claws retracted, she wanted him. I want you so much, Rick.

It couldn’t be only a statement she made in the throes of passion even though her nails were clawing at his hips to bring him closer over herself, wanting him deeper inside her. For a second or so, Rick had even imagined it as if she uttered the words as I love you so much, Rick.

He knew it was his mind playing on him, but for a second or so, it really sounded like that, Amanda telling him how much she loved him. His desire to hear those words from her lips was as strong as his desire to tell her too. Rick wanted to hear it. They always told each other they wanted each other whenever they should be saying the words instead. It shouldn’t be this hard to say they love each other.

She must love him. Rick was feeling it. When someone loved you, you felt it. The feeling became clear in you, suspicions silenced. Amanda had problems with that feeling part, always expecting the worst. Sometimes I wonder how a woman as smart and attractive as you are could’ve stayed without even dating this long.

After the words had left his mouth, Rick had wanted to kick himself for telling her that, saying stuff he didn’t mean, either, but did he? Didn’t he mean it, wonder about it?

Amanda was a beautiful woman, men must’ve lined up to get her attention. Like Gorman had mentioned about that officer at Grady, jumping on the wagon to come with them to the Death Wing just because she’d asked, just like Aiden Monroe offering her drinks at the moment she set a foot inside in their house. And, Amanda had kept all of them away, just in the same way she’d told Rick she didn’t want a relationship back in the prison. No, Rick didn’t mean it to hurt her, but his words were true.

And so were hers, lashing back at him, calling him on his bullshit. Touring around the town, Rick almost returned to the house and told her everything, came out clean, about his fears, about Judith, about his feelings. The way her reluctance hurt him, the way he wanted them to be together. Each night, each morning.

Rick didn’t lie with that part. He never lied to her. He wanted them to be like that every night, every morning. He was so tired of this. This wasn’t him. Rick couldn’t make torrid love affairs. They always baffled him. But now his unstable relationship with Amanda would’ve even made Shane and his unstable love affairs before the outbreak look like a picnic, and in his books that was saying much.

Rick was too old for this. God, he’d even felt too old for it in his mid-twenties, wanted to settle down when he became sure Lori was the one. But was she? Or Rick just had wanted to settle down and played along? He loved Lori, he knew he did, but Rick had never felt like this too. The questions, speculations were rising in him, clouding his mind even further. God, he was too old for this!

He was a man of forty, trying to keep his family safe and secure at the end of the world. Amanda was right on that part. They were getting sloppy, distracted just like in the woods.

They couldn’t tolerate that. They had to settle down. She’d lost her shit yesterday and broke a man’s nose. Rick couldn’t have her like that, either. He still needed her cool, levelheaded. He didn’t want her to endanger herself needlessly just to prove herself useful to Deanna, but it didn’t mean Rick didn’t need her.

God, he so needed her. They were a good team, even though they didn’t work together, they still made a good team. He wished to have her at her side as he made his patrol, walking with him. There was where she belonged, with him, at his side, always. You stand beside me.

Rick silenced his erratic musings and focused on. They should go on, just like they’d decided. They just had a bump in the road this morning. Hell, it wasn’t even his intention to have sex with her. He’d even gone to the bed wearing sweatpants to put her at ease. On their first night together, Judith sleeping beside them, Rick knew they couldn’t make it that easily. But when they woke up before dawn, Amanda all over him like that, his hand between her legs, feeling her wet arousal at his fingers as she stared at him with that hazy look... They just carried on again.

But it was okay. He'd left the room because he had to cool down, but they would make up. Soon they would pick up their rhythm again, just like they did during sex. They’d made the same dance a lot of times, two steps forward, one back, their tango, Rick was honed with that skill now. It took great effort, but they still managed it. They’d managed to come to this point. She had accepted to move in with him. Rick wasn’t an idiot not to understand what that meant for her.

He should find Carl and talk to him. See how they could handle his moving out. Rick still didn’t know if he was okay with Carl moving out of the house…completely. The attic didn’t sound to him too bad.

His thoughts cut off suddenly as Rick heard a clamor from over the gate. Turning around, he squinted, trying to measure if they were having another problem again, his steps hastening. It didn’t sound…bad, but his wariness had returned at full force in the last two days.

His name hadn’t echoed in the air yet, so it wouldn’t be that bad, Rick hoped as he marched over the gate. He first saw the RV entering through the gate as Jeff saluted it. It was an old Nissan, dated possibly a decade back, but still in good condition. Rick also saw there were no bloodstains over the hood or the tires.

He took it as a good sign.

Rick stood beside the platform’s feet and watched the scene. A young man with shoulder-length dreadlocks stepped out of the RV, followed by a brunette woman around his age. Jeff jogged towards them. “Heath!” the guard hugged the man, smiling.

Heath, the Afro-American man, returned the smile, hugging his friend back. A young brunette man around Noah’s age joined them too, and another blonde one at his heels. Rick understood they were the supply team Deanna and Abraham had been waiting for.

Rick wondered what Abraham was going to decide now, but before he could speculate further, the new arrivals noticed him.

Their stares held an edge, a wariness, Rick noticed with contentment. It was a kind of stare he would’ve given himself returning from a supply run and seeing a stranger. “Who’s he?” Heath asked Jeff, tilting his head at Rick.

Rick stared back at them before he started walking towards them, his eyes getting sterner. It was time to make introductions. Jeff twisted to him with a glare, his brows pinching. The others read the gesture as their expressions turned warier.

“He is—” Jeff announced as Rick stopped in front of them, jutting out his hip as his hand propped on it. “He’s our new sheriff.”

Rick tilted his head at them with acknowledgment before he uttered; “Welcome back.”

# # #

The news of the long-expected supply team’s arrival gave the town a buzz enough to make Amanda’s little spectacle at the gate slipped through the cracks and disappeared. Amanda couldn’t have been gladder. Though, even with everyone’s attention turning to the new arrivals, she still dutifully padded towards Deanna’s house around ten o’clock, her stomach twisted into a coil, a deep stone set deep inside it.

She’d schooled her exterior into a neutral stance, but she wasn’t sure how long she could be able to hold on to it. Her anxiety had gotten worse with what had happened this morning. Fake it until you made it was harder when a part of you didn't want to do anything but hide in the bed under the covers, curled up into a ball, and cry.

She couldn’t have stayed in the room long after Rick left the room like that, growing distant again. Cinnamon had jumped into the bed after him, waking up with sunlight, and curled up beside her over the covers. Amanda started stroking the baby kitty. The baby tabby always made them wake up like that, coming up to the bed the first thing in the morning, asking for their attention and affection.

Amanda thought perhaps she should leave her with Beth, even though she didn’t want to leave her kitten. She’d gotten too accustomed to her baby kitten’s presence in the room, in the house, waking up each morning like this, Cinnamon jumping up on the bed then curling up against her. She’d managed it last week the first time, growing stronger, and the fact made Amanda feel better.

But in that way, Beth wouldn’t be alone, whereas she was going to have Rick and Judith. If they still were going to do it. She supposed they were. Rick told her to ask Joan for another package before he…ran out of the room. He shouldn’t have wanted her to return to her room because she refused to have sex with him without condoms, right?

It was dangerous, they couldn’t risk pregnancy. They had to be reasonable. He must have known it, too. Though, Amanda was afraid he’d taken it personally. He shouldn’t. Amanda wouldn’t have sex with anyone without condoms. Really. It was nothing personal.

God!

Her apology sounded awful to even her ears. She couldn’t imagine herself telling him that. And did she need to apologize? Why exactly she should apologize? She didn’t do anything…wrong.

Just didn’t want to have sex with him without a condom.

Amanda saw Abraham dawdle around Deanna’s house, circling it around like a wild animal in heat, on the prowl. The fact that she still hadn’t told Rick what she’d agreed to come to find her when she stepped into Monroe’s driveway. Keeping her gaze carefully away from the garage, Amanda walked slowly.

She wished they could loiter a bit more, but she suspected Abraham wouldn’t take it any longer. He’d been already on pins and needles to leave, but Amanda didn’t know how to make that talk with Rick.

He was going to get upset again, would think that she was still trying to prove something, would tell her again she didn’t need to do it. She didn’t want to deal with it right now. She still even didn’t know what she wanted. Her conflicted feelings from the run and what happened were still a mess in her, but she’d agreed to Abraham. She couldn’t bail out now.

Moreover, Abraham needed her. Rick might say she didn’t need to do it, but Beth’s accusing words still echoed in her clearly whenever Amanda slipped her guard and think. Every time Amanda stepped aside, turned to look the other way, something bad happened. She let things with Joan go beyond her control, she lost Lizzie, she lost Maggie, she even almost lost Beth yesterday.

Rick wanted her to stay inside, wanted to keep her safe and protected but Abraham needed her outside. If only Amanda could be sure she wasn’t endangering her life over for…for a pipe dream.

For Rick’s…protectiveness, she wasn’t like his wife, he’d better accept it. Sometimes it even felt as if with her he was trying to…compensate for his failure of protecting his wife. I should’ve protected her, kept her safe, but I couldn’t. And I’ll always have to live with that.

It wasn’t a thought Amanda wanted to dwell on much, so she silenced it down, then as she stepped on the porch, she spotted Aiden in the corner.

A sigh almost escaped from her. Amanda knew she was going to have to talk with the team leader too, but it was one of those things she didn't want to do right now, too. She still had to deal with Beth, possibly exchanged a few words with Deanna again. God, there were so many talks Amanda had to make but didn’t want to.

Giving the man a side look, Amanda walked inside through the open screen door. It was going to have to wait. In the hall, she directly made towards the upstairs as the interview was going to be in Deanna’s study.

In the middle of the staircase, at the landing above her, Clarice Reese suddenly appeared in her school uniform, her hair, her makeup perfectly done like always. There was a pissed expression on her face, and she knew the teenage girl was leaving Deanna’s office for her interview.

The teenage girl started climbing down the stairs. “I heard you were sent to Denise yesterday, too—” she remarked, stopping at Amanda’s step. “Broke Nicholas’s nose.”

Well, nothing stayed hidden long in Alexandria. “You heard correct—” she replied placidly and flickered her gaze up towards the hall. “And I heard you escaped out to the woods with Carl.”

“That we did. He even killed a…rotter with his sword.”

Amanda’s eyes narrowed a bit hearing the word. Rotter. She’d never heard anyone in the town calling the dead as she did. “Carl and his father said I can join into your class—” Clarice suddenly remarked before she asked. “Can I?”

“The basic class will be mandatory, Clarice,” Amanda replied. “Everyone in the town will participate.”

“Everyone?” the girl asked, then laughed. “I wouldn’t be so sure of it, Officer Shepherd.”

“It is—” Amanda confirmed. “Rick already sorted it out with Deanna.”

“Hmm. Can you take me out then?”

“Depends on your success on the course,” Amanda answered truthfully. “If you’re good, you can come out.”

Clarice gave her a slow, lingering look. “I dance ballet since I’m three—” she replied, her voice having a prideful tint in it. “I’m good, too.”

“That’s different.”

“I want to learn—” the girl insisted.

Amanda nodded. “We talk later then.” She made a move to climb the rest of the staircase, but Clarice’s voice stopped her.

“What did Nicholas do that you punched him like that?”

Amanda returned the teenager’s look and told her the first, simple answer she could find. “He acted stupidly.”

Clarice made a scoff, then started climbing down as Amanda moved up in the opposite direction.

Amanda could only hope the teenage girl would understand her. The teenagers were all having it hard. Carl, Beth, Clarice, she was sure even Ron had his riot act. She didn’t know about Noah and his gang, but they might surely have their problems. Even Mika started having nightmares. They should do something about it. It didn’t seem right that let happen. She made a scoff very similar to Clarice. Perhaps they should start group therapy, sit together holding hands, sharing shit.

Amanda trembled with the idea. Dawn had threatened her once to send her to one if she didn’t play along with IA’s interviews and with the psychiatrist they’d appointed to her case. She crossed the hall and stopped in front of Deanna’s study.

God, she really didn’t want to do this.

She heaved deeply, readying herself, and knocked on the door once. Instead of a distant ‘come in’ as Amanda had expected, the door opened a second later as Denise stood at the other side of the door with a small, kind smile. Amanda didn’t know what to make of it, so she hoped it was a good sign.

The psychologist was alone, and that was a welcoming sight. “Ah, hello Officer Shepherd—” the blonde woman greeted her, pulling aside to open up the way for her. “I was waiting for you.”

Amanda stepped inside.

# # #

Joan noticed the doctor pick up a metal canteen out of the drawer at his desk after the last man from the supply run team was cleared out of the infirmary. Joan frowned but turned her gaze away as Anderson left the infirmary with his canteen.

A few times during the last week, Joan had spied the man coming to the infirmary still having aftereffects of a hangover, but she’d never seen him drinking in his office before, but apparently, the man had a stash here, too.

It was still around noon, but with the new arrivals, they had a business morning. The team had returned in a good shape, with only a few bruises and injuries, but nothing fatal, and more importantly no bites.

Her work hours were a bit hazy as they still tried to align their time slots, but his wasn’t. Joan spent her mornings in the infirmary with the surgeon as they’d decided after Rick’s talk with the town’s leader, the rest of her day given to her with no further obligations whereas the doctor was supposed to be here full day.

They both didn’t participate in the shifts like Daryl, Amanda, and the others, but Joan always left with Daryl for the woods whenever he went out. The town had become so strained since Rick started turning the flowerbeds upside down, yesterday Amanda had broken Nicholas’s nose, and she knew the former sergeant had already started making his rounds to leave after the team he’d been waiting for finally arrived. Joan wondered if the man would come for her too.

Would Deanna let her go? She was still restricted from going out without a…chaperone. Somehow Joan didn’t feel like Deanna would let her go, and frankly, Joan didn’t know. Did she really want to go? It was a question she’d asked herself in the woods before Aaron had found them, and Joan hadn’t still found the answer.

She bet she wasn’t the only one either. Everyone needed to find an answer for that. The mission. Going to D.C. Was it worth leaving the security and prosperity they found behind these walls? Joan was aware Abraham had been harassing Rick, and the former deputy was stalling. What would Amanda do?

What would Daryl do, Joan asked herself the next.

They had never talked about it. Daryl had been taking watches and shifts, but Deanna hadn’t assigned him to a particular job yet, something that worried Joan a bit even though Daryl acted cool. Perhaps the old politician had been waiting for that. Who knew, Deanna Monroe had a devious mind. Perhaps she really should go and talk with Amanda, but she wasn’t sure if the former police officer was in the mood.

Something had happened again last night.

Joan had set up the man’s nose as he bled plentifully, eyeing her suspiciously, swearing and pissed off, his shirt tore off, bruises already forming up along his face. The news of the fight had spread like a wildfire, and it was one of the things Joan had been afraid of since she’d seen Rick and Amanda leaving Deanna’s garage in that way.

Then Carl stayed in the living room last night and Amanda stayed with him to watch a movie together. When she heard this morning that Carl was moving out, things became clearer, but when she walked to the infirmary, Joan saw the sheriff’s expression as he made his morning patrol along the wall. His face was dour and placid, his jaw set up, his eyes having that look. Then a few hours later, out on the porch for a coffee break, Joan saw her friend walking towards Deanna’s house across the infirmary, her face carrying a similar expression too. Joan wasn’t surprised.

Turning, Joan started tidying the infirmary after Anderson, getting rid of bloodied gauzes and used bandages they’d used tending the team members. Here she was tidying up after men again. It disturbed something in her profoundly, but Joan tried to tell herself she was overreacting. When she finished, she thought of finding Daryl and ask him if they would go out.  

Joan wanted to be out, even though a part of her found it crazy. Joan liked the times they spent outside, just two of them foraging silently, even though she knew she had to work on the fine details of surgeries more. The thing was that Pete Anderson didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Deanna wanted her to learn, but the surgeon might not be feeling the same, Joan had started thinking.

The thought made her almost let out a snicker. Of course, he didn’t. Joan had become habituated to the boasting assholes, and she had an inkling that Pete Anderson just fell in that category as well. The doctor didn’t want a competitor. As the sole surgeon of the town, he was unique, surely holding a certain kind of power and privileges, like Doctor Steven at Grady.

Joan walked back to the house and found Daryl at the back deck like usual, but talking to Abraham. Her eyes narrowed, Joan watched the scene as the former sergeant talked to Daryl heatedly while Daryl sat on the steps serenely. When he finished, Daryl shook his head a little, but giving him an irritated look, the big military man grunted loudly, even Joan heard his frustration where she was still at the front porch.

Abraham turned and stormed off away from the backyard, marching over the rows of trenches in the flowerbeds towards their own house. The whole backyard looked like a field of nests for moles, even the front yards, except for the small patch of the left side where the colorful marigolds and pansies Amanda had wanted still stayed. Joan could see why. They looked very pretty. Turning away from the flowers, Joan walked to Daryl.

“Hey—” she greeted him settling on the steps beside him. “Abraham sounds frustrated.”

Daryl made a noncommittal sound, shrugging. “Asked you to go with him to D.C?” Joan asked directly the first time.

“Yeah—” Daryl admitted, but didn’t say anything else, his look still on the steps.

Joan frowned. “What did you say?”

“Said I’m waitin’ for Rick—” Daryl returned indifferently, then looked up at her. “You wanna go too?”

Did she? Did she really want to go and try to save the world? Losing this? The answer came to her easily. The town sometimes became too much, too heavy, but no. Joan still didn’t want to lose it.

“No. I don’t think I do—” she finally admitted slowly. “I guess saving people isn’t really my thing.”

That earned her another look from him, but there was something in his clear blue eyes now, something Joan couldn’t decide. He’s not like the men you’ve known, the words echoed in her, and Joan couldn’t agree on that more. “Nah…” Daryl said. “I saw you with Shepherd and Maggie.”

Joan felt heat rising to her cheeks. She tried to shrug. “Just my job.”

Daryl bobbed his head. “Do you—” Joan asked, swallowing through a lump in her throat. “Do you want to go?”

Daryl shrugged. “Saving people ain’t my thing, too,” he muttered.

Joan laughed lightly. “Could’ve fooled me—” she murmured. “Carol told me you found her in a storage cell in the prison. Saved her life.”

His eyes turned to her, this time searching. Joan wondered why she was doing it, but she just— “Daryl—” she called out to him, sliding closer to him on the step. “W-will you go?”

Those blue eyes were still on her as he answered, “If Rick—”

“I’m not asking Rick—” Joan cut him off as she neared even closer. “I’m asking you.” He stayed silent. Joan swallowed again, still gazing at him before the words left her. “Don’t go—” she spoke lowly. “I don’t want you to go.”

She didn’t. God. It was so clear in her. She didn’t want him to…leave her. Risk his life, even though it would save the world in the end. Joan was just selfish in that way. She leaned further in him, her eyes still on his before she pressed her lips on his.

He isn’t like the men you’ve known…Carol said in her mind, and Joan felt grateful for it.

# # #

Carl climbed the two steps that led to the attic and pulled down the trap door above his head. A decoratively carved white ladder appeared at the edges of the attic, and Carl hurled it down too.

When his father had mentioned the attic, Carl was dubious first, but now he felt excitement. There was something that called out to him with living in an attic, looking above the town. The houses had those long floor-length windows even at the attic which must have a bird’s eye of the town.

Eager to find out, Carl started climbing the ladder, his father at his heels.

Carl wasn’t a child, nor was he stupid. He knew his father still wanted to keep him inside the house, instead of moving to the garage. He must’ve had cold feet last night. Something must have happened last night, too, Carl was aware. When Carl had seen them together last night, looking for them the Harry Potter movie, they both looked anxious, but there was no stiffness in his father’s body language of this morning.

He’d seen Amanda carrying the same rigid posture, too, pinched eyebrows as she helped them to prepare breakfast, her kitten playing between her feet as Judith sat in her high chair, playing with her stuffed giraffe and plastic bunny teething toy, her book open in front of her.

Carl wondered what had turned them like that again, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. He shooed away the thought, telling himself it was okay. They were going to be okay. He pushed himself out of the attic and stood up.

The triangular room wasn’t as small as Carl feared. It was warmer too, facing the south façade. The pale sun was entering the room without any filter too, dust in the stale air glinting with sunlight. It cast more of an eerie ambiance as Carl craned his neck up and stared at the triangular ceiling. Above his head, there was a small window too. Carl imagined himself laying in his bed at night, gazing at the stars.

“I like it—” he said quickly, his smile beaming up. He pointed at the window above. “There’s even a roof window above. I can look at the stars.”

His father’s forlorn expression softened as a faint smile pulled up his lips. “Yeah. We can place your bed over there.”

Carl nodded, suddenly an image appearing in his mind. Him lying in the bed, looking at the stars, but he wasn’t alone. Clarice was with him too, lying beside him. His face flushed, his fingers aching to crawl over his pocket.

It was still in his pocket. Carl couldn’t still believe his father did it, gave him a condom, advising him to be cautious. Carl had been mortified, but in the end, he was glad that they’d made the talk. His father talking to him like that, it made Carl feel like…a true man.

“I think it can work better than the garage—” his father continued, turning around his axis to study the room before his gaze found Carl again. “What do you say, son?”

“Yeah—” Carl admitted, too. It was better. This was better, them like this. Together.

He walked over the window and gazed outside. It was close to noon. Carl saw the new arrivals touring the town, greeting people cheerfully. The surprised, stupefied look was still over their face, finding the town turned upside down with them, but they didn’t look like they were bothered a lot. Carl even had met with the youngest of the team, Dylan, and had learned he came from his first supply run too like Beth. There was a little pause when Beth cracked up a joke if anyone had missed a shot on the run, too, looking all blasé with the fact that she’d almost died while Dylan looked confused. 

His eyes returning towards their houses, Carl saw Abraham talking to Daryl, his gestures animated. Carl knew what the other man wanted to talk to Daryl. “Dad—” Carl called out, turning aside from the town’s visage. “Do we go to D.C?”

His father’s expression grew sterner as he studied Carl. “Do you want us to, son?” he questioned. Before he answered, Carl’s eyes cut over to the window again, looking outside.

The construction team was still digging the lawns, gathered in the gardens. The newcomers circled, inspecting the changes. Olivia was coming from the direction of the warehouse, her hands full with supplies as Joan walked back to their house. Beth was touring with Ron. Carl’s eyes lingered on them for a second before he picked up Clarice slowly strutting away from Deanna’s house. Her interview with Denise must have finished. Amanda should be inside now.

Carl turned to his father again. “This place is good for Judy.”

The gun he’d taken was still hidden under his bed, but perhaps it was time for him to accept it. He still wasn’t sure if he liked it, the disturbance and hurt were there, tightening his chest, but his father was right. This was the life they had now, and Carl didn’t want to lose it.

Judith would always know their mother as Carl did, from their memories. Carl was going to make sure of it. “No, Dad—” he said. “I don’t want to leave.”

His father nodded. “Then we stay, son.”

# # #

The psychologist eyed her unabashedly as Amanda took the seat across Deanna’s desk. The woman was sitting at Deanna’s place, staring at her with an open intensity. God, Amanda really didn’t want to do this.

The woman gave her a small, gentle smile as Amanda sat down quietly. Rick had told her to go and sit there silently if she didn’t want to talk, and even though it sounded ridiculous and childish now, Amanda didn’t know what else to do. So, she stared at the wall.

Worse it was all bringing back her memories, all those times she sat in front of shrinks and gotten dissected under the disguise of evaluations. It didn’t help what had happened with Rick this morning either, her thoughts still swirling in a whirlwind. Amanda felt so nervous she could snap in any moment or start screaming. Not that it would be counterproductive. To think that everything would be easier when they found a roof over their heads…

Denise cleared her throat when she understood Amanda wasn’t going to break the silence. “So, how are you feeling today, Officer?”

“I’m feeling fine—” Amanda replied crisply, still staring at the wall.

The psychologist wasn’t taken aback by her terse answer. Amanda guessed the woman was also habituated to people who didn’t choose to be here by their own will, judging by Clarice’s sour expression. The fact that she was sent to the woman like an acting-out fifteen years old teenager made the anger sweep over her edges again, but Amanda held it back.

“Today started interesting—” the psychiatrist continued. “Heath and his team returning. Deanna was expecting them the next week. You met them?”

Amanda shook her head. “No. Not yet.” Amanda couldn’t have called it interesting, returning and finding nineteen new people in the town, one of them picking up a fight yesterday, half of the lawns and gardens demolished. She wondered if they heard the mission to D.C, too.

So, she tried to figure it out. “Have they talked about the mission to D.C with Deanna?” she inquired.

The psychiatrist gave her a careful look. “No. Not yet—” the woman repeated her words back. “Why do you ask?”

Amanda shrugged. The woman’s eyes squinted. “Abraham was getting restless—” she replied offhandedly.

Denise didn’t let it go. “Do you want to go to D.C?” Amanda stayed silent, wishing she hadn’t breached up the topic in the first place.

She didn’t know how to process this. In the interviews with the department’s shrinks, she was at least sure whatever she uttered in those times was going to stay inside that room, that she only needed to be cleared out for active duty. The evaluation dossiers were sent to their superiors, but she knew the shrinks weren’t going to sing to Dawn the whole interview after Amanda was gone. With Denise and Deanna?

No. Amanda wasn’t that naïve. They didn’t tape the interview now, but whatever she uttered in this room was going to end up with Deanna just after she left.

She still had to talk with Rick about going to D.C, the fact that she had said yes, but she figured it was a safe topic here to mention, dodging the talk away from the other issues or the other dreaded questions like how she was sleeping at nights or how her childhood was like.

No one still made the mention of it after Amanda had purposefully slipped it to Aiden when she wanted to test him. Either Aiden kept it to himself or they were still playing. Amanda wasn’t looking forward to finding out anymore.

Denise took a pencil from the desk, tapped its back lightly on the counter before she remarked coolly, her eyes still on Amanda. “Deanna restricted you off from the supply runs for the time being.”

“This’s not a supply run,” Amanda countered stiffly, quickly. That was venturing out, pushing a frontier in a way they hadn’t dared to do before as Abraham had said. “Abraham needs me,” she answered. “He wants me to lead one of the teams.”

The psychiatrist gave a quick bob of the head, scratching down something with the pencil on the paper in the front of her. Amanda tried not to scowl, her gaze cutting over to it. The words the woman had written in her file suddenly came to her, her scowl turning deeper. Trust issues, elusive, avoidant…the adjectives going on.

“Do you still want to go?” the psychiatrist questioned. “After what happened yesterday?”

Amanda felt like she’d truly fallen into a trap with her own feet. Her face souring further, she squared her shoulders. “It’s my job.”

The woman’s clear blue eyes were searching. “Do you feel you need to?”

Amanda matched it stiffly before she uttered the truth; “Deanna—Abraham. They all need me outside.”

“And how that makes you feel?”

Amanda wanted to curse herself, her mind jumping back into the time in a grey room, and the shrink in a suit asking her the same question:

“They have nothing! Only their prejudices and biases!”

“And how that makes you feel?”

She pulled herself back from the memory, her inside turning icy. “Doesn’t make me feel anything—” she retorted with the same icy crispness. “It’s what it is. My job.”

She wasn’t going to babble about her damn feelings to someone she barely knew. She so didn’t need this shit! The uncanny eyes and curious gazes poking at her barriers, trying to dissect her. She felt the wariness inside her as strongly as before, all her senses getting alert. She only wished to be done with it now.

“Look—” she started lifting her head to Denise. “We don’t have time for this. I need to prepare. I know I acted…inconsiderately yesterday,” she continued after a little pause. “I know I shouldn’t attack him. I was wrong. But I was also right.” Like Rick. She was also right when she was wrong. “Nicholas, Aiden…if they keep up what they’re doing—” she repeated Rick’s words once more, her voice getting agitated, the fire in her chasing away the coldness. “They’re going to get themselves killed.”

The woman gave her a heavy look. “And it makes you angry?”

Amanda blinked a few times as the words registered in her brain. “Yes!” she almost cried out. “Of course, it does!”

“It’s not only them, either,” she continued. “They can hurt others too. This isn’t a game. Nicholas almost got Beth dead yesterday.” She stared at the psychiatrist coldly. “And that makes me very, very angry.”

“You’re very protective of her.”

“I am.”

“You said it was hard for Beth outside.”

Amanda shook her head. “It was hard for all of us. We all suffered.”

“I know.” She paused. “How do you sleep at night?”

Amanda almost groaned before she bit off with a rasp. “I sleep fine.”

Denise gave her another careful look, openly assessing her. “I worked with Virginia Police Department during my internship. Used to see the cops acting hard and tough.” Amanda silently listened this time. “They all refused to admit they had problems, kept saying they slept fine, that they were doing fine until one day they took a bullet on the duty or worse, shot someone.”

The woman’s words pierced in her chest, but Amanda didn’t let it show. “Then you should talk to Nicholas. You’re describing him.”

The psychiatrist nodded in admission. “He’s appointed just after you—” she informed Amanda.

She let out a snicker. “Deanna doesn’t want us to go ballistic, huh?” she asked, her voice curt and taunting. “Gotta keep us functional. I imagine it’s hard to find people who would accept to do legwork these days.”

Another careful, assessing look, picking up a layer off her. “You sound bitter—” the psychiatrist commented. “You said it’s your job,” she went on. “How do you feel about your job, Officer?”

“Amanda—” the woman called out when Amanda stayed silent, switching to her first name. She leaned forward over the desk a little, still holding her pencil. “Do you feel bitter because you’re sent out? Do you want to stay in?”

Her head snapped up at the shrink. “I asked Aiden to go out with them,” she stated coolly. “I volunteered to go with Abraham too.”

“So you want to go?”

“It’s my job—” she repeated, not finding anything else in her.

“Amanda, how’s your relationship with Deputy Grimes going?” the woman suddenly inquired directly, changing the topic.

The anger found her again as she glared at the woman. “It’s none of your business—” she seethed out. “Who I’m fucking is none of your business!”

“I think Deanna already had this talk with you on your first day here,” Denise replied coolly, the fury in her voice wasn’t even touching the woman a bit. “Our emotional and social needs affect every aspect of our lives.”

Amanda stayed silent. “It’s come to my attention that your discussion with Nicholas given the nature of your conflict was doing fairly well until he brought up our sheriff—” the woman remarked with the same coolness, her studious gaze fixated on her. “Amanda, did you punch him because he brought Deputy Grimes into the discussion?”

Without a word, this time, Amanda stared at the woman in shock.

Notes:

First of all, the techinique Denise has used on Amanda is called as Reflective Listening, it's basically what the therapists do when you go to see them the first time, trying to assess you, asking questions finding cracks through your narrative, leading you to open up yourself and your feelings and emotions. Amanda does need a real therapy, and I'm planning on it, in fact I even devised a plan for her. Someone has to start a serious CBT therapy on her, to teach her how to handle her emotions in a more mature way, and serious psychotherapy sessions are needed too, to deal with her schemas as Amanda IS the Abandoned Child, literally. EMDR also may help her to deal with her childhood trauma in the basement. BUT, of course, it's ZA! So she won't have an excessive therapy like this, lol, but I'll play with this for a while.

And, as you can see, everyone except Amanda (and Beth) from my basic core has decided to stay in Alexandria. Even Carl has finally given up the idea of going back to the prison. For a while, I really thought to take them back to the prison, but it really distrups the whole moving on, and start living again theme of the story. And Carl needed to do some growning up, having character development.

Chapter 23: 'Is it true?'

Summary:

Her interview with Denise brings back memories from her past to Amanda, which makes things harder for her as she tries to settle herself down. Rick, in the meanwhile, while he prepares the attic for Carl before Amanda moves in with him makes another discovery.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Amanda stared at the wall in the cold room silently, knowing she was suffering through the Internal Affairs interrogation tactics. The room was grey, the dim interiors only lit by the pale fluorescent directly above her head. She leveled a look at the metal skeleton chairs and the basic metal table. The whole ambiance was dictating as if she’d done something wrong.

Amanda crushed the thought at the moment it crossed her mind. She didn’t care what they thought. Their interrogation rooms in the precinct were built like this, too, to put the culprits on pins and needles, but despite her best efforts, being treated like this still made her feel angry.

It wasn’t right. She hadn’t done anything wrong! She hadn’t planned anything, just saw him. She wasn’t proud of herself, proud of what she’d done, but the bastard had deserved it!

Even Lamson had told her so. “What goes around comes around,” he’d said. “No one is gon’ lose any sleep over it, Mandy.”

She wasn’t sleeping well like the shrink of the department inquired to know, but Amanda wasn’t losing sleep over it, either. Not that she would admit. But now things had turned worse. Amanda doubted the interrogators in front of her were losing any sleep because another drug dealer finally left this world, but they didn’t like Amanda had done it, and Amanda knew the reason too. The reality of her situation raised bile to her throat with anger, the injustice of it.

A part of her almost wished she’d quit before when she’d gotten shot. She should’ve resigned how she thought first. She always knew it was going to come to this…sooner or later, it always did.

She shook her head inwardly at her thought. No. She’d decided after she saw Sarah’s grave. She shouldn’t give up. She never gave up. Amanda Shepherd was a cop. She would stay like one until her last breath. That was the only thing she had, the only thing she’d ever managed to be other than being a poor orphan girl. She wasn’t going to let them take it away from her!

The men in suits gave her another assessing look, eyes clouded in suspicion, just like she had imagined. They didn’t believe her story. Despite her determination, Amanda couldn’t stop a faint tremor passed over her. The Internal Affairs made any cop anxious, and their cool voice and their critical looks had the same effect on her, too.

They have nothing, she rattled off to herself inwardly again. Because there was nothing to have. Because she was saying the truth.

“You saw him in the pub?” the tall sergeant repeated her last statement into a question, his eyes cutting over to her official deposition.

Amanda answered with a brief, but curt, “Yes, sir.”

“And what were you doing there, officer?”

Amanda looked at the forlorn man, steeling herself. She wasn’t a mouse they could play with. “I told you, sir. I was having a drink.”

The outranking officer returned her look with an equally cold one. “Do you always have drinks blocks away from your apartment after your shifts?”

 This time Amanda stayed silent. “Jackie’s is thirty blocks away from your flat! Why did you go there?”

Her breathing hitched, but she still tried to keep her face neutral. Amanda didn’t have a clear answer for that question, as it was possibly also the reason for her current predicament. She didn’t know. She was walking in the city. She didn’t want to go home. In the last few days, she couldn’t stay at her flat long. The walls were coming on at her. She had been walking around, thinking of Dawn’s informant, the young man who just wanted a second chance, wanting to get away, get clean. Life hadn’t given him many options. They were around the same age, born into the system. Unlike Amanda, he was married. His wife had a baby on the way. Amanda had heard the woman’s cries in grief at the precinct, cursing Norman. Those screams were still with her at night, but she couldn’t tell them that.

They wouldn’t understand.

“I was around the neighborhood,” she mumbled, bowing her head.

“Neighborhood—” the other sergeant, the stout one, sneered. “Seriously, Shepherd, get your facts straight!” he bellowed out, leaning over the desk towards her. “Norman’s apartment is a few blocks away from Jackie’s.” He paused for a second before he asked openly. “Were you trailing him?”

Amanda shook her head viciously, raising it. “No. No… No, I wasn’t! I told you!”

She wasn’t trailing him! It was just like her feet had brought her there. She hadn’t realized it until she’d seen the man in the pub! She wanted to cry out and told them she didn’t mean it. She wanted to swear on it, swear on her life, but before she couldn’t even open her mouth, the sergeant started firing at her.

“So what? You somehow found him in the pub and then decided to follow him out and he brought you to a dark dead-end alley and drew his gun on you, but you acted first and shot him?” His hand hit the table. The angry sound rang in the sparse room curtly. “Do you take us for fool?”

She shook her head agitated again, knowing she was losing her ground. “Who paid you?” the sergeant snapped at her face, getting closer to her.

“No one paid me!”

“A drug dealer died by returning fire from a cop in a dead-end alley!” he spat. “How much did they pay you for it? What are your affiliations? With whom?” the questions were rapidly fired as Amanda just sat there and shook her head. “Is it Elias? Norman and Elias have been locking horns for the west Kirkwood over a year—” he stated coldly. “Did Elias put you on this, officer?”

She looked back at them, short of breath, but her insides were turning icy. She tried to calm herself before she spoke again. “I’ve got no ties with Elias.”

The stout sergeant fished out photos from the dossier on the table and handed them to the tall one. “Is that so?” he spat again, tossing them over in front of her. “Look at the photos. These are from his ring. Do they look familiar?”

Amanda looked at the photos. He tapped a finger over the last photo on the pile. “Paul Rovia. His newest henchmen, your friend from the same foster house, stayed over a year in the same house. Lynn Morrison, another of your friend, stayed again in the same house for six months.” Another photo was tossed over her. “And another one, the same group home—” Amanda closed her eyes. “When did they recruit you? Before or after?”

Losing her cool, she cut him off, screaming. “I’m NOT a mole!” 

“Really? How many friends do you have in all mobs of the city, officer? Tell us, we lost the count!”

Friends?!” she countered, spatting the word, jerking her head at the photos. “I haven’t seen these people for YEARS!”

Four years…It’d been four years. Amanda never had friends. Friends, they came and went as you bounced around the houses, you always knew it, knew that you shouldn’t get attached. But after she aged out and started the community college and decided to join the police force, she made sure to cut all her ties from her childhood just because something like this might happen.

“Officer—”

“NO! This’s bullshit!” She stood up, shaking her head. “You have nothing, nothing but your prejudices and biases because I’ve got no affiliations with any of these people or any mob. Perhaps you should ask yourself another question. Like why the children from the foster homes end up with the mobs instead of drilling me with your unfounded assumptions!”

She turned to leave the interrogation room. She was done here. She was done with their prejudices, biases, suspicions…but the tall officer called out to her. “Officer Shepherd, we’re not done yet.”

“I am—” she replied stiffly, fixing at them a stern glare. “You either make a case on me with something valid, charging me openly or I’m walking out now.”

Then suddenly she was with Dawn. Amanda blinked—looking at Dawn, and her eyes…her eyes were pricking, hurting as she felt tears welling inside.

“Please, ma’am—” she implored, leaning down as she sat across Dawn’s desk in her office. It couldn’t be happening. She’d just snapped, lost it, hearing those words, accusations, her friends… “Please, don’t let them do it—”

Her lieutenant’s hand hit her desk furiously. “I told you to sit down there and play along, Shepherd! Lamson told you too! We warned you! We told you they were going to come onto you! Did you think Hanson would stand against IA for you?” She shook her head, giving Amanda a cold look, disappointed and angry. “What were you thinking, walking out of your interview like that?” she berated, shaking her head in her cold, serene anger.

Amanda looked at her lieutenant. “Ma’am, please—”

“I can’t do anything right now!” Dawn snapped back furiously. “You have to face the consequences of your actions. You’re suspended until further notice. I’ll open a case, but it’s gonna take time. You’re appointed to the counselor—”

“I already saw the counselor—”

“That was before you walked out on an IA’s interrogation while cursing high-ranking officers!” Dawn flared again, her anger like a breathing, live thing in the room. “You’re gonna sit there demurely and play along until they cool down, are we clear?”

She nodded quickly. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her clear stark blue eyes nailed her a look. “I personally vouched for you, Amanda. Told them you’re one of the good ones. Don’t make me regret it.”

Swallowing hardly, Amanda shook her head. “I won’t, ma’am.”

Her eyes bore through hers, not wavering from her gaze. “We’ll see.” She paused. “Stop this. I can’t cover your ass all the time. First, you started looking for your parents, now this—”

Amanda jerked her head again agitated. “I wasn’t, ma’am. I wasn’t—”

“Cut the bullshit!” Dawn snapped at her. “You were tailing him! You can’t even admit to yourself, but you were! This has to stop, you gotta pull yourself back together. The boy’s death got you. I get it, but don’t let your past shadow your future—” she spoke in cold serenity before she asked, a warning edging her curt tones even further. “Do you understand?”

Amanda did. Her eyes drying, her expression stiffening, Amanda did understand. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now go, leave your gun and badge too—” she ordered.

Amanda obeyed, taking her badge from her duty belt and her gun from her holster, and left them on her desk. It…killed something in her. “You’re so young, Amanda. Don’t waste it.”

With another brief nod, Amanda turned and went to the door.

She opened the door—and walked into the shrink’s study. No—no, she was sitting at his couch, the taciturn man taking notes in front of her.

“They think of me dirty just because I was born into the system,” she spat, the unfairness of all of it inciting a fire in her again. “They have nothing!” Her voice rose an inch as Amanda looked at the shrink. “Only their prejudices and biases!”

“And how that makes you feel?”

It—it made her feel…very, very angry.

Amanda’s eyes cracked open as she jolted up from her…dream, her heart galloping in her chest.

She stared at the ceiling in the gloomily dark, her blood drumming inside her ears as her heart raced in her chest. She felt damp, her body had broken sweat even in the chilly night. She closed her eyes, trying to calm down her heartbeat, erratic breathing. The dream—no, Amanda wouldn’t call it a dream. It was a nightmare.

Her worst nightmare. It’d been years since the last time she’d thought of those days. How long had passed? A decade? No, eight years or less? She was still a rookie then, in her second year in the force, enough of a fool to walk out an IA interrogation like that.

God, she knew going to Denise wouldn’t come to her good. She knew! It took her only one interview sitting there to snap again.

She swallowed and started listening to Beth’s even, steady breaths instead of focusing on her dream. She didn’t want to remember those days, what she had done. It was a mistake. She’d slipped, didn’t realize what she was doing. A part of her was still relieved because the bastard couldn’t hurt anyone anymore, but Amanda wasn’t proud of herself. She’d never been.

God, she didn’t want to think about it. She’d been lying in the bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to Beth’s soft inhales in the silent room, then she must have dozed off. Twisting her head on the pillow, Amanda looked at Beth.

Today was the day. Perhaps she was just feeling jitters because of that. She was going to move in with Rick. Yesterday Rick had prepared the attic for Carl, so the teenager could move out, so Amanda could move in. She still wanted it. She really did. Letting her thoughts go, Amanda slowly straightened up and swung her feet over the edge of the bed silently. Dawn must be near, but even Cinnamon was still sleeping in her nest beside the door.

Lowering her head, she looked at herself. Rick’s blue boxer short and white basic top had become faintly damp too, but Amanda didn’t want to change them. She was sleeping in them for two days now. After their morning two days ago, Amanda had returned to Beth’s room as Rick prepared the attic for Carl. Amanda had prepared, too, packing up her stuff. There weren’t many, but it still felt odd, but she did it, even put the dark emerald chemise and robe in her backpack in secret.

Without making a noise, she slipped out of the room and climbed down the staircase.

She was thirsty. Her mouth felt like cotton, her tongue like dry paper, and she felt the need to take a breath out, the claustrophobic feeling was catching on her again. She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. As she drank it, she realized she wanted something harder.

Today she was also going to see Denise another time. Perhaps she needed some liquid courage for that. She wondered if she could find something in the drawers in the living room. The kitchen was clear, they’d checked it before, but she vaguely remembered Abraham mentioning drinks when they first came to the house.

She quietly plodded to the living room barefoot, her sweat-dampness made the night chill worse for her as she sensed goosebumps on her skin, her nipples going hard under the white tee-shirt. For a second, Amanda regretted her decision not wear to sweatshirts or long pajamas. It was just…she didn’t want to take off Rick’s clothes. The undershirt still had his faint scent, mixed with fresh soap. It made her feel better wearing them as if she was still in his arms, safe.

She crossed the doorway, turned towards the cabinet at the corner then stopped seeing a tall silhouette in front of the floor-length window in that eerie grey-purple gloom before dawn. Amanda recognized it at the first glance. It was Rick, and somehow it didn’t surprise her.

She wondered how long he’d been there if he’d ever slept tonight even though he was wearing the faded grey sweatpants and another white basic shirt. His back on her, he was standing rigid, his spine straightened as he gazed outside. Amanda couldn’t see his face, but she didn’t see it to imagine his dour expression. Catching up the faint sounds she made as she walked towards him, he turned aside, but his expression loosened a bit upon seeing her.

“Um—hey—” she murmured, fidgeting. “Couldn’t sleep?”

He nodded briefly. “Yeah. Didn’t want to disturb the kids.” He eyed her. “You?”

“Came to drink water. Woke up early.”

Rick gave her another brief nod. Amanda wondered if he felt anxious like she was because she was moving in today. After that morning, they hadn’t talked much. He’d tried to question her how the interview went after she returned from Denise, but she eluded it saying it was fine, the woman didn’t bother her much.

Moreover, Rick was busy. The town was quite an uproar. Deanna had green-lighted the mission for the next week. Abraham was preparing for the mission, the construction teams still turning the gardens upside down, and yesterday Rick also had them start the watch platforms at the spots he wanted to keep an eye on the wall.

Reg and Tobin started preparing the metal platforms on the metal beams as Rick and Daryl went out to procure wooden logs to support the beams. For the rest of the day, Rick prepared the attic for Carl as Amanda worked on her field. So, it was a real busy day.

Amanda knew they both were stalling again, but for what Amanda wasn’t entirely sure. Rick was still pretending like Abraham wasn’t leaving the next week, and both were pretending nothing had happened in the bed. Perhaps nothing really had happened, too, she was exaggerating. Perhaps Rick was just busy, or perhaps they just weren’t ready.

To live together. It’d happened too quickly, just after their fight. They didn’t even talk about it thoroughly. Perhaps she should ask him if they would wait a bit longer, at least until she returned from D.C, but then for that, she needed to talk to him about the little fact that she’d said yes to Abraham, and Amanda didn’t feel ready for that talk, either.

How that makes you feel?

The memories from the past skated in her mind. Tired, Amanda pushed them away, turning to Rick. He was looking at her searchingly now too, his blue eyes suspicious. She tried to give him a small smile, but she couldn’t move her lips.

“Carl told me he didn’t want us to leave—” he finally spoke after a while, his eyes still lingering on hers as they stood beside the window. “I’m not going to D.C.”

There it was, he said it out loud, finally admitted that he wasn’t going. She should tell him, too, be done with it. She just had to do it. She couldn’t hide it from him forever. She should come clean.

Amanda swallowed through the tightness in her throat, forcing a silent breath, but the only thing she managed at the end was a simple “I know.”

  Later. She was going to do it later. It didn’t feel like the right moment for this talk. And they weren’t going until the next week. There was still time. She’d particularly advised the former sergeant not to tell Rick anything. Aside from the sergeant, only Denise and Beth knew that Amanda had said yes.

She’d told it to Beth yesterday while they worked on the field, told her she was going to lead a team. Almost satisfied, Beth had nodded, saying she was going to come, too, like Amanda had been afraid. She said they would talk later, still not sure if she wanted to take Beth for this particular mission. But that was another talk she had to do later.

Later. She was going to deal with all of them. With Beth, with Denise, with Rick. Condoms. Amanda needed some damn condoms. They would make up, and Amanda would tell him then, lying in his arms, draped over his chest. That felt like the right moment, not this. She might even ask him to come with her. They were a good team when they didn’t fight. Amanda wasn’t even sure if she really could lead anything.

Rick nodded, but his gaze lowering, it stayed on her breasts. Amanda flickered a look downwards and saw that her nipples were still perked under the shirt. His eyes grew heated, and Amanda almost made a move, taking a step closer to him.

But his eyes skid down, towards his boxer shorts that barely covered her hips with the folded waistline before he lifted his head at her. “Are these mine?”

She felt heat rising in her as she wondered he could see her blush in the gloomy room. “I—uh—I wanted to wash them before returning—” she explained. “So took them.”

“Keep ‘em—” he rasped out roughly. “They look better on you than me.”

His head dipped, his eyes were still on his short as Amanda took another step in on instinct. His words turned in a hazy mist in her mind with his scent as her hands gingerly held his waist. Her fingers itched to slip under his shirt, to feel the silky texture of his bare skin, feel his warmness. For the last two days, they hadn’t even kissed.

She wanted to kiss him. She’d missed it. She raised on to her toes, craning her neck up, but Rick only gently brushed his lips over her hair, lingering over her temple for a second before he stepped away and walked out of the room.

# # #

“This’s better than what I expected—” Beth commented a bit impressed as she spun around herself gazing at the newly decorated attic. The roof wasn’t low, so it had enough space without triggering any claustrophobia, and sunlight was coming directly from the windows at each side of the triangular room.

They’d placed a low bed just under the roof window as it was designed such, Beth surmised. Carl’s closet was on the opposite side of the bed. There was an armchair they’d brought up from the living room under the lowest point of the roof beside the window, a small alcove. They’d even set up a small table in front of it. The sitting area looked cute. Beth even saw a vase on the table, inside there were colorful pansies. Carol must have done it like in the living room and the kitchen.

A dark navy small rug covered the hardwood floor in the middle of the room, and Beth eyed the color as Carl sat on his new bed.

“Yeah—” Carl agreed, stretching out his legs over the floor. “I was doubtful when Dad mentioned it, but I liked it better than the garage.”

Beth nodded, giving him a small smirk. “He couldn’t let you out of the house entirely, huh?”

Carl shrugged. “Yeah.” He paused. “I don’t mind. I don’t want to leave.”

Beth’s eyes turned to his friend, searchingly. “Did you take the gun?” she questioned.

They hadn’t talked much after she’d come back from the run, Amanda punching Nicholas, and the next morning the other supply team had arrived. She’d met them yesterday, then worked with Amanda in the field during the day, but Amanda was as silent as a stone while the whole town buzzed around them until her older sister finally admitted that Abraham had asked her to lead another team with him, and she’d said yes.

Beth was surprised but felt glad the older woman finally stopped being a coward and started to take what she deserved.

She had told Amanda then she was coming too, which Amanda had deflected with another ‘We’ll talk later.’ Beth didn’t care. She’d decided. If Amanda was going, she was going with her. What she’d experienced in the garden nursery… Beth wanted more of it. It was a life unknown, between life and death, and Beth figured out she didn’t mind it.

In fact, she wanted it.

She should’ve been afraid, she should’ve been scared, being so close to death, but Beth wasn’t. Beth only felt…alive. Once upon a girl, there was a girl, and she was still living.

It wasn’t a bad story.

Carl nodded. “Yeah.”

“And?” Beth questioned.

Carl shrugged, patting his bed briefly. “Hid it under here—” he told her before he announced placidly. “I’m not going.”

Beth raised an eyebrow. She wondered if it was anything to do with Clarice. “How Clarice convinced you to take her out?”

They exchanged a look, Carl staring at her before his shoulders sagged, and he let out a sigh. “Caught me as I was climbing the wall. She threatened to scream if I didn’t let her come with me. She wanted to see outside.”

Beth pursed her lips, not knowing again how she felt about it. It felt like a crack slowly wedged between them since they’d come here, slowly but determinedly, and their friendship was falling through it. Perhaps they were just growing up like Amanda had said.

Her eyes turning to the window, Beth looked outside. “Beth, you were right. They would never let us go,” Carl said lowly. Beth returned to him as Carl lifted his head. “And I don’t want to leave,” he repeated. “I want to stay.”

Again, Beth eyed his friend carefully, feeling the crack moving an inch deeper. “I told Dad, too—” Carl continued. “About D.C. I don’t want him to leave.”

Beth frowned. “Amanda’s going—”

His friend mimicked her expression too, his eyebrows pulling. “Dad said he’s gonna stay.”

Beth shook her shoulders. “I don’t know. Amanda told me about it yesterday. Abraham asked her to lead the second team, and she accepted it.” She paused. “But even as she stays, I’m going.”

“Why?” Carl asked, a wonder in his tone. “Why do you want to go?”

How could she explain it?

But Beth wanted to. Wanted to explain to him. Explain herself, talk about it. Sometimes it still felt so awful, so lonely. Beth knew Carl felt the same, too. They were enduring this suckass world together, bearing it, as best they could. Whatever would happen between them, Carl was always going to be there for her, like Beth was always going to be there for him. For her best friend. Nothing would change that.

“Carl, when I was out there, circled with the dead,” Beth tried, sitting beside him on the bed. “I remembered something I forgot. I remembered I’m not…the walking dead.”

Sometimes it felt exactly like that, too, like they were the walking dead; flesh, skin, blood, and nothing underneath, but they weren’t. The second time in her life Beth had understood how much she wanted to live when she was about to die. Deep buried inside, there was that thing inside them, that thing that still made them want to go on, live on. Some of them had lost it, but Beth still hadn’t.

At that moment she also realized there was no need to wait anymore. She couldn’t cross that line with Carl. Life was too short, too damn short, but it was a step she couldn’t take with Carl. She was going to go to D.C, perhaps never came back, but if she indeed wasn’t returning, there was something in her list she had to do.

Standing up, Beth headed to the trap door and opened up the hatch. Her gaze fell on her hand, but her palm didn’t itch. Carl must’ve caught it because he suddenly asked before she started climbing the ladder. “Beth, what happened to your hand?”

Beth turned back and smiled at her friend. “I cut it.”

Climbing up, Beth left him in his new room. Her fingers touched at her jeans, feeling the condom Amanda had given to her in her front pocket. Once upon a time, there was a girl, but this girl wasn’t going to die as a virgin, Beth was adamant about it.

Leaving the house, she went to find Ron.

# # #

“How are you feeling today?” Denise started in the same way after Amanda sat in front of her desk at the study.

How was she feeling today? Like a nail was pounding in her head.

All Monroe clan had been inside the house when Amanda had come. She hadn’t seen Deanna, the old woman possibly was in the living room as Amanda quickly climbed the staircase, ignoring Aiden’s presence in the hall. It was childish, but well, her mood hadn’t elevated after Rick’s attitude in the early morning.

The rest of the morning passed like that too, Amanda opting to stay inside to pass time with the kids and Cinnamon, keeping her attention on Mika as Rick left for his morning patrol first, then checked the construction sites.

“Why don’t you read another book?” Mika had asked, giving Amanda a sideways look as she patted Cinnamon with one hand while Amanda tried to keep Judith stable as the baby girl bounced in her lap, shuffling through the pages of The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

“She likes this one—” Amanda had replied just before Judith let out a happy cry, finding her most favorite picture from the book.

Tossing herself over Amanda’s forearms, Judith patted her small hands over the page, her tiny fingers fisting around the pages’ edges, pages curled and rumpled with Judith’s joyful energy as she made little noises. “Da-da—dada—”

Surprised, Amanda snapped her head down and saw the daddy caterpillar on the page with the baby green caterpillar. Judith was still dabbing on the daddy, bending down. Her eyes flickered up as Judith shifted towards her. “Da-da—da-da—” Judith strutted out again, showing her the daddy caterpillar that Amanda had colored a stubble.

Amanda had smiled when she realized the baby girl was trying to show her Rick, almost going out to find Rick to tell him what Judith did, but stayed where she was.

After what happened today before dawn, she became even more confused. There were no banging doors in her face this time, and Rick was even…courteous while he gently kissed her head, not exactly giving her cold shoulder, but kind and withdrawn had always been his general mode when he wanted to distance himself from her in the prison.

She wondered if they’d returned to those days now, too, just as the moment she recalled Denise’s words from their interview. Our emotional and social needs affect every aspect of our lives. Shooing the words and preoccupations away from her, Amanda turned to the therapist. They were fine. They were going to be fine. But she needed to do this now.

“I’m fine, thank you—” she answered before she added quickly, cutting to the chase. “I need to ask you something.”

Even though the therapist was surprised, her professional mask hid it from her. She gave Amanda a half nod. “Of course.”

“I need to talk to Aiden and Nicholas and resolve this issue—”

Shaking her head, Denise cut her off. “Amanda, if you think making peace with them would stop our sessions—”

 “No. It’s not about that—” Amanda interjected her, too. “We’re going to leave the next week. I imagine Aiden and Nicholas are coming with us. We need to sit down and talk. Find a common ground before we go out. This way we would jeopardize the mission. I can’t let that happen.”

It was also her responsibility. She had to keep up her team intact, functional, as much as Deanna. “You still haven’t talked to Deanna—” Denise started, but Amanda shook her head.

“I’m playing along, Denise—” Amanda called the woman with her first name, directing her gaze at her. They could try to keep up the appearances as much as they would like, but it still didn’t change the truth. That world was gone now. “I’m coming here because I don’t want to screw up and turn things even more complicated for everyone. But I won’t let my arms twisted behind my back indefinitely. If I want to leave, I leave.”

It was a bold move on her part, but she didn’t want to sit around demurely and play the good girl anymore. There was no IA, no Dawn, no Hanson. There were only her, Rick, and their nineteen people.

Her words were clear, so were her hidden inclinations. She wasn’t the only one they should be wary of. Because if they pushed her too much, Rick wouldn’t only push back, but he would shove, too. And Amanda didn’t need to add that part, regarding her with a long, studious look, Denise understood it.

“So, do you want me to gather all of you here to talk?” the therapist asked to elaborate.

Amanda jerked her head into a curt, but certain nod. “Like group therapy—" The word still almost made her wince, but if that was what they needed to do to clear the tension between them, Amanda was going to do it. She was the team leader. It was her responsibility. “We come together and talk. Understand each other, vice versa. You can moderate us.”

In the woman’s clear brown eyes, Amanda saw an interest. “This actually might work—” the woman said, nodding.

“I know.” Amanda paused before admitting with a little sigh. “I don’t want things to be like this, Denise.” Her mind skid over to the times when they were in the woods, how she used to tell Rick they needed to come back, that they’d been on the edge far too long.

“Afterward you still will come?” Denise asked, cutting through her memory.

Amanda thought about it a second, a part of her still wanting to decline, but in the end, she nodded. “Yes.”

After she left Deanna’s house, she trotted to the infirmary to ask for condoms. Joan was there, studying books. The former nurse lifted her head as Amanda walked inside.

“Hey—” she called out, her eyes sweeping over the pulled back curtains to make sure there was no one inside. “Are you alone?”

Joan nodded. “Yeah.” Her eyes squinted. “What’s wrong?”

Amanda shook her head. “Nothing. I—uh just wanted to ask something.”

Joan’s dark eyes narrowed further, but Amanda closed the usually open door for a little bit of privacy and didn’t let the younger woman wonder more. “I need condoms—” she said plainly without further nonsense. “Do you have any in the medical supplies?”

Joan laughed silently, shaking her head with a long drawled sigh. She leaned back in the chair. “For a second, I thought you were going to ask for a pregnancy test or morning after pills—” she commented under her breath.

The words gave Amanda a sudden tremble. If they kept this up, she might ask one of those too one day. They’d come so close in the woods at their first time, Rick almost coming inside her. The odds to get pregnant at one time like that were low, even it was calculated, but who knew? Amanda certainly didn’t. She’d never bothered to check her fertility before the outbreak.

She sighed, walking to the desk. Bowing her head, she saw the nurse studying a medicine book, plants over the pages. “No. Not yet—” Amanda muttered, but couldn’t help herself but ask. “You have them?”

Joan nodded. “Not many, but yeah. A dozen or so pregnancy tests and we got a few packages of Plan B. They used them a lot,” Joan continued with a low snicker. “Accidents happen, huh?”

Amanda bobbed her head, understanding the reasons for Alexandria’s low birth rate in the second year of the apocalypse, because yeah, accidents happened, and human sex drive multiplied on basic instinct when things went badly.

The thought gave her another faint tremble, remembering the way she was two days ago. “I’m going low with condoms,” she remarked after the brief silence. “Soon I’ll need another package.”

Joan stood up. “I imagine. You’re moving in with Rick. More free time.”

Each night, each morning. Amanda gulped, recalling this time Rick’s throaty whisper, looking at her eyes, his hand linking through hers. “Yeah—” she murmured again as Joan opened up a cabinet behind her.

“We’re low for them, too—” Joan warned, taking a package from one of the drawers. “Doctor Anderson distributes them very carefully.”

Returning to her, the nurse handed her the package. Amanda bowed her head and looked at it. The problem was that what they had left from their old life was going to finish one day. Joan knew it, hence the books over the desk. Her eyes cut over towards them before she lifted her head.

“Joan, is there some other way to avoid it? Amanda questioned. “Natural stuff, herbs or plants or something?” Anything…Anything that would prevent them from popping out babies like bunnies. “Can we do something about it?”

The look Joan gave her was enough of an answer as the younger woman let out another sigh, shaking her head. “There’re some folk remedies, but they are what they are; old wives’ tales. I suggest we all shall become very acquainted with our menstruation circle.”

Her thoughtfulness vanishing, a playful smirk smile appeared over her lips this time after the words. Amanda narrowed her eyes. “Joan?” she asked, leaning forward over her friend. “Did you—”

Joan cut her off. “No. But we kissed two days ago. When the other teams came back—” she explained. “I asked him if he was going to leave with Abraham. I told him I don’t want him to,” Joan confessed as something tightened in her chest.

Her friend’s eyes turned to her. “I don’t want him, Amanda—” Joan repeated. “I know you might be going, but I want Daryl to stay.”

Swallowing through a low gulp in her throat, Amanda nodded. “I understand,” she mumbled.

But did she? She didn’t know. Without both Rick and Daryl, Amanda was going to be truly alone, taking responsibility for a bunch of people she didn’t know well on her own. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t let herself think furthermore. She’d given her word. Made a promise. She couldn’t take it back now.

“I kissed him—” Joan went on, her eyes rising at her again. “He—well, he let me.”

Hearing the words, Amanda’s attention snapped back at Joan. “He let you?”

Joan shrugged, an anxious gesture, very uncharacteristic for the woman’s usually brash, certain attitude. “Uh, he didn’t kiss me back, but he didn’t stop me either. I think he was a bit shocked.”

Amanda shook her head with a low laugh. “So what’re you going to do now?” she asked.

Joan shrugged, but this time it was more of her. “Well, for now, nothing. I made my move. It’s his turn now. If he wants it, he’s gonna have to come forward.” She paused, her face souring a bit. “I’m not going to throw myself on him.”

So, the ball was in Daryl’s court. Amanda wondered if the hunter was going to play with it. Her mood brightened a bit seeing Joan’s romance. She wanted her friend to be happy. Daryl was a good man. And after Gorman—The door of the infirmary suddenly opened with a loud thud. They both spun around and faced—

Rick.

The world suddenly skidded to a halt, slowing down as Amanda looked at him.

He was standing at the doorstep, one hand still holding the door’s handle tightly, so tightly his knuckles had turned to pale white. His face—god, his face... His face was furious, his jaw so set, his expression looked like a stone. But it was nothing next to his eyes. They were the electrical blue again, curt like frosted sapphires, holding a furious tempest inside as Rick glared at her, still on the doorstep.

Amanda took a step backward towards the desk, her feet moving on their own as her heart raced inside her chest. “Rick—” she managed to utter in a whisper through her tightening throat because she realized what had happened.

God, no!  Please, no. Not now. She wasn’t ready yet, she wasn’t. She needed time!

Her feet made another involuntarily slip and her hips hit at the desk’s edge. “Rick—” she muttered again.

He clapped the door close, shaking it in hinges with the force of his thrust before he marched towards her in quick, long strides, his glowering stormy eyes still on hers, ignoring Joan’s whole existence.

“Is it true?” he rasped at her in a low hiss before his cool anger shattered and he all but shouted the next; “Did you say YES to Abraham?”

Notes:

All right, Rick finally learns she's going to D.C...again, from the others, hehe, poor guy. This time who gave the news to him? We'll see in the next chapter. Nevertheless, there's a storm coming, lol, Amanda had better batten down the hatches :)

Amanda's full backstory is something I devised a long time ago even before I started planing Not Too Far Gone. To make it more concise, the timeline is like this:
She aged out at 18 and finished community college at 20. (She was on a half scholarship because one of her teachers in the high school, and because she also saved money during school doing homework for other students.) After college, she enrolled in the force, got shot at her shoulder around her 22. She went through an identity crisis after she was shot, and started looking for her parents and her childhood friend, both being dead. Then this Dawn's informant got shot by the drug dealer Dawn was trying to collar. The drug dealer got the boy killed, and Amanda lost it then, because, like her, the informant was also a foster kid, but not lucky like her. Then things got very hard for her, she ended up killing the drug dealer. The drug dealer sort of pulled her into a trap in the dead-end alley when he understood she was trailing him, and it took Dawn to cover for her before she got back in the force. I always imagine Dawn covering for Amanda just to manipulate and use her later for her own benefits, like Dawn did with Beth in the show. I always had this backstory in my mind when Dawn looked at the other way when Gorman left her behind at the beginning, and why Amanda felt hurt and betrayed that way with Dawn. Amanda and Dawn used to have a very twisted, very complicated relationship

I've got an idea to make an AU gritty detective story for Amanda and Rick, too, Dawn forcing/manipulating Amanda into go to undercover as Governor's girlfriend to put him behind the bars so she could get promoted to Captain, as Amanda has to deal with a lot of crap and Rick's way crosses with her somehow, and they team up to take down Governor after Rick helps her out of a tight spot. Rick still got shot and stayed in a coma in this AU, but no ZA. Lori and Shane still had a brief affair during his coma, and Judith happened too, so they got a divorce, a messy one too, without a ZA giving them another chance, so Rick is a bit of a loose cannon again, lol. I imagine it like a True Detective meets TWD without a ZA, lol.
Sounds interesting? I don't know when I would write it, because I need to finish this book FIRST, then write the third, final one too with Negan, bringing to the plot until Season 9, and leaving it off there. So it might take a while, lol.

Oh my god, I talked a lot AGAIN. Sorry! :)
The next two chapters are the mid-season finale! Yay!

Chapter 24: 'We need a break'

Summary:

After learning Amanda has accepted Abraham's offer to go to D.C, Rick finally snaps. Amanda comes to another realization.

Notes:

Blckwidow, fuseburner, this is for you again. Thanks for the support, like always.
I deleted the announcement because I think I made my point very clear, and it's not needed anymore, but everything I said there still stands.
This is kinda The Chapter too, something I've been playing since Not Too Far Gone Yet. Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Returning to the master bedroom, Rick took a cold shower, his arousal tightening in his pants after seeing Amanda in his boxer shorts and shirt. The sight had almost done him, almost made him take her in his arms, kissing her senseless, and then what?

Brought her to the garage again and fucked her over the workbench?

He didn’t want to do that anymore! Amanda deserved much more than that. They deserved more than that. And he didn’t even have any damn condoms. She didn’t look like she was carrying one, either, his boxer shorts didn’t have any pockets, and it was clear that she wasn’t wearing any bra to stuff one inside like she had done going to the dinner party before. She’d also made painfully clear that Rick wasn’t allowed to touch her without a condom two days ago.

So, Rick bailed out of the room before he lost his self-control, just brushing his lips over her hair. If he stayed in her proximity any longer when she looked at him like that, when she started touching him like that, when she was still wearing his underwear, he might’ve not been able to stop himself. The last two days had been like hell. Rick had sworn himself not to do anything before she moved in properly, concentrating his full energy to prepare the attic first. So, he buried himself into the chores as Amanda tried to deal with her interview.

Tonight, she moved in and they settled down this matter. Rick wondered how her interview had passed too, but aside from a brief talk when she came back from the therapist two days ago, they hadn’t talked about it, Amanda fending him off with a dismissive ‘it was fine.’

Her continuous rejection not to let him in still hurt as much as it angered him now, but Rick still tried to hold on to his resolve and poured instead all his frustrations and hurt feelings into getting the town into shape. As Abraham was due to leave the next week, taking a bunch of their people, too, Rick decided to have his watch platforms.

Yesterday he’d found Tobin and Reg and they started planning for the platforms after a meeting. They realized the steel beams they had in the maintenance warehouse wouldn’t have been enough for what Rick had envisioned, so Rick suggested the trunks in the woods like they’d used to reinforce the prison’s fences. They had an unlimited resource in the woods, and they had the necessary equipment to cut down the trees in the maintenance warehouse.

So, they had started building their working areas, skeleton bridge plans already sketched by Reg. Today Rick was determined to start at least one bridge. They still needed to find seeds for the gardens as Amanda and Aiden’s run had turned out a complete failure. Jeff was from this neighborhood like Amanda had said, so the man might know where to find other nurseries. If they found a phone book like in the old days, they would at least have a better direction where to look for.

Late in the morning, Rick headed to the first construction site they’d planned along the wall. Standing beside the workbench he’d set to cut down the beams and logs, Rick looked at the town.

Alexandria wasn’t a quiet place anymore. A small herd of walkers had drawn to the clamor they made, but not much. It was still something that bugged Rick, the apparent lack of the walkers despite the sounds of life. His eyes swept around again, checking the grounds, wishing Amanda had been with him. In times like these, Rick even missed her company more, the easy way they talked to each other, bouncing ideas, completing each other’s thoughts.

His eyes trailed to his left and Rick spotted her training field along the wall beside the warehouse and greenhouse. The obstacle course was almost finished now as they made the last touches.

There were trenches, many wooden obstacles and tire bridges, towers, and mud pits with cargo nets to slither underneath. At the other side, there was a long trapeze to cross over with loops and ropes that she’d managed to fix with elastic bands from the gym. There was even a rope ladder at the inner side of the wall for climbing exercises, and a wooden dummy for knife exercises.

The target field for shooting range was the opening beside the greenhouse on the other side, and in addition to the long bar with fixed targets, there were also few tires from one of the not-operational vehicles set up in swings as their moving targets.

Overall, it looked as fierce as their course in the Academy that they made them pass after Rick had graduated from criminal justice, if not fiercer. Hell, hers looked as tough as a Marine corps training drill.

Rick wondered how many people would actually manage to finish it, a little smile tilting his lips up, surveying the field. Rick could even imagine her going through the track herself countless times until she was satisfied with her time record. He was sure she’d already set up herself a timeslot. The thought itself urged him again to find her and drag her in the warehouse just beside the field, damn with the condoms or his reservations.

He’d missed her, goddammit, he’d missed her so much, his whole body was aching for her. It was only two days, but it started to feel like Rick hadn’t touched her for years. His eyes circled the town, and Rick saw her striding towards Deanna’s house, her face looking decisive, unlike the morning.

Rick watched her as she headed to the town’s leader house with those determined steps. “Dad—” Rick swept back and saw Carl coming towards him, but he wasn’t alone.

Clarice Reese was with him, but the blonde teenager looked like Rick had never seen him before. She was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans under a thick big dark brown suede jacket. “Hi, Dad—” Carl greeted him as Rick eyed the girl.

“We want you to help you—” his son stated, tilting his head at both of them.

Rick frowned. “What happened to your school?” His eyes turned to Carl. “Why am I seeing you everywhere but at school?”

“Beth stopped attending the classes, too, Sheriff Grimes—” Clarice answered demurely, but stiffly.

Rick fixed at her a look. “I’m gonna talk to her, too.”

“Dad, even Eric told us we could help if we want because there’s a lot of hard labor in the town—” Carl explained. Rick nodded. He could see the recruiters were asking it. Deanna had arranged the teams, asking help from the townspeople, but it wasn’t mandatory. Aaron and Eric were one of the ones that helped Rick to prepare the gardens, and they’d been taking watch shifts, too.

“Have you ever used a trowel before?” Rick asked, turning to Clarice.

The girl shook her head. “No.”

“Okay—” Rick admitted with jerking his head. “Carl, show her.” He gestured the beams and logs along the wall. “We need to dig first to place the beams and logs, then support them.” He turned to Carl. “Like in the prison, son. Do you remember?”

Carl nodded as he went to gather two trowels Rick had found in the greenhouse. “Yes, dad.”

“Officer Shepherd said I can take her course when she starts—” Clarice said as Carl handed her one of the tools. “Is it true?”

“Yes. The course is gonna be mandatory for all adults and teenagers above thirteen,” Rick answered, pulling up a log over the bench to measure it. “Y’all are gonna take it,” he added, slanting a look at Carl.

His son grinned at him. “Beth and I already made a bet on which one of us will be faster.”

Clarice’s expression soured after that as Carl flushed, spying her a look. Rick almost laughed at the teenagers. It appeared the young Reese was quite jealous, too. The next Clarice turned towards Amanda’s field. “I can’t imagine Beatrice doing this.”

Rick shrugged indifferently. “She does exercises, right? She can think it like one.”

Clarice was still eyeing the field. “It looks like Survivor—” she commented. A smile jerked up her lips as Rick looked at her over the workbench. “I always wanted to run it. What about Mr. and Mrs. Johnson?” she asked, turning to Rick. “They’re like sixty. Are they going to do it, too?”

“No—” Rick replied, bending down over the log again and took the hand saw from the bench. “They don’t. But they’re gonna take the range drills.”

“Range drills?” Clarice’s face lit further. “Are there going to be shooting lessons, too?”

Rick started cutting the wood. “Yeah.”

Clarice’s questioning finished, but this time Carl started. “Dad—" his son called out. “Beth said this morning Amanda is going with Abraham—”

Rick almost cut off his hand with the saw.

He stopped and lifted his head at Carl, his expression frozen over his face. “Is it true?” Carl continued. “I told her you’re not going, but she said Amanda told her yesterday—”

Rick threw off the saw, turned on his heels, and started marching towards Deanna’s house.

“Dad!” Carl yelled behind him, but Rick didn’t stop.

# # #

Rick arrived at Monroe’s resident in a foggy blur, in a crimson haze that had his head pound in his skull. He could even feel the way his veins throbbed in his temples with each breath he took over his fury.

Just this morning, just this morning he’d told her he wasn’t leaving, and she’d said she knew. She had looked at him in the eye and just said she knew. How long? How long? For how long she’d been hiding it from him?

A part of him tried to reason there must’ve been an explanation, perhaps Beth understood it wrong because she couldn’t fucking do this to him again! He told himself to calm down, breath, be reasonable, but it was lost under the bitter taste of hurt.

Why—why it always had to be like this? Why he always had to learn what she did from the others? He thought they’d passed that. They were going to share a room, live together. Was that how people wanted to share their lives act?

Deciding to go to D.C without even telling him? Like Rick didn’t matter. Like he was just a body she satisfied herself, a dildo on two legs. Was that what he was to her? A pretty diversion to entertain herself? Since the beginning, she always did the same. First, it was Mika, then Rick learned it from Deanna, now from Carl. And for what? Endangering herself for what? For a pipe dream, for a possibility, they both knew wouldn’t work.

Lori had been right, for not wanting him to leave. Rick hadn’t known their new world then much, had still been trying to hang on a glimmer of hope that things would stay the same, they would stay the same, but Lori had been right. Just like how Shane had been right. Right even he was wrong.

Going to D.C was a needless gamble, something they wouldn’t push. They shouldn’t push. Perhaps in time they would try it, start venturing out, but it wasn’t the time yet. No. They all wanted to stay. Sasha and Bob had said they had a debt to Abraham before Terminus, so they were going, but that was it.

Carl wanted to stay. Even Daryl came and told him yesterday he wasn’t going; the hunter wanted to stay. Carol said she was staying. Rick was sure Glenn was going to make the same call too, despite what he’d said earlier about Maggie wanting him to do it. He’d started wearing the uniform.

They all were settling down, didn’t want to endanger their lives needlessly. Except Amanda, apparently.

Why did she even want to go?

Rick took up the steps to the porch quickly and buzzed the ring. His insides were buzzing too, his blood drumming in his ears, his head pounding, anger, hurt, confusion, and fear feeling like a mountain sat on his chest, making it harder to breathe.

Why—why she always had to do this?

The question swirled around in his mind in a continuous loop. Rick didn’t understand. He just didn’t. She was moving to his room today. She’d even prepared a bag. Rick had seen her doing last night. She’d packed. He knew she sat down with the kids the whole morning, playing with them, reading to Judith. She read the same book countless times to Judith just because his baby girl loved it.

Why did she want to leave this, leave him? It brought another scare through his wide range of heavy emotions, and Rick shook his head vehemently. No. Never.

She couldn’t leave him. She wasn’t going anywhere. This was absurd. Amanda had no business in D.C. She belonged here, at his side. With him. Always with him. He wanted to see her each night, each morning. He wanted her face to be the last thing Rick saw before he closed his eyes, and the first thing he saw in the morning.

The door opened, and Rick glared at Aiden Monroe. The man’s face was as taciturn as his, but Rick paid no attention to it. “I need to talk to Amanda—” he clipped in. “Can you call her down?”

“She’s not here—” the stiff answer came quickly. “She left.”

Rick checked his wrist for a second. Her time wasn’t still up. His glare turned to Monroe again. “I saw her going to the infirmary—” Aiden supplied the next second, closing the door in his face.

His anger didn’t even let him feel a shimmer of relief that the things were strained between the younger man and Amanda, and the man no longer gave her those quirk small smiles. He turned to climb down the porch quickly and headed to the infirmary.

The infirmary was the last place Rick would want to do this, but he didn’t care. Not at the moment. He was beyond caring now. He strode to the infirmary and saw the usually open door closed. If it’d been another time the closed door would have made him wary, especially after seeing Anderson and Beatrice together, but Rick didn’t even pause. He held the handle and tried it—

And there she was, standing with Joan over the desk, talking. Their heads snapped towards it when Rick opened the door with the sudden curt move. Amanda looked at him then her eyes widened as she caught up with him, with his stance, his anger, his fury. Rick almost missed the low mutter of his name from the other side of the room.

Her feet slid backward until her hips hit at the desk table’s edge, her hand fisting around something she was holding. “Rick—” she muttered again.

It undid him. It was true. Her reaction didn’t leave any place for doubt, yet Rick still marched towards her. He wanted to hear it from her. He wanted her to look at him in the eye and told him she’d decided to leave.

He stopped in front of her. “Is it true?” Rick rasped lowly before his anger ripped off the next words out of his chest. “Did you say YES to Abraham?”

Staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights, Amanda stayed silent. “Goddammit, tell me, Amanda!” he shouted. “Is it true?”

She swallowed. “Yes. I told him I’ll go with him.”

Rick shook his head, turning around himself. “I can’t fucking believe you!” He still couldn’t. Even from her lips, Rick still couldn’t fucking believe she’d decided to leave without even telling him a word!

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Joan murmured quickly and started trotting to the door.

When the door closed behind the woman, Rick turned to Amanda again. “Why—” he breathed out, bringing up a hand over his temple, trying to massage his pounding head, his voice rising another octave. “Why do you keep doing this to us, Amanda?”

Her hand reached out, but Rick shrugged it off. “Rick, I’m not—”

His eyes snapping at hers, Rick nailed her a stern look. “Don’t tell me you’re not doing anything!”

“When? When were you going to tell me, Amanda?” he asked. “When were you going to bother to let me know at least?” His voice turned to a cold sneer. “About the DAY you fucking leave the town?!”

“Rick—” she called out again before she tried to reach him agitatedly. “I was going to tell you. I swear I was—” Her fingertips touched at his face.

The gesture was trying to calm him down. Amanda exactly knew how to soothe him or rouse him by now. She knew how to distract him, how to seduce him, how to provoke him, how to push his buttons, or how to calm him down, and it was why it hurt so much. She must have known how he would feel, yet still did it.

“I—I was waiting—”

The word shattered his self-control completely. “Waiting FOR WHAT?” he shouted, sweeping around himself, stepping away from her.

Her hand dropping at her side, Amanda looked at him silently.

Rick bent down as his chest turned icy, as much as his glare as he lifted his head to look at her. “Just this morning, Amanda—” he told her in a rasped voice, words leaving him forcefully as he straightened up. “Just this morning I told you I wasn’t going, and you said you knew. When?” he demanded again. “When did you accept it?”

For how long she’d been hiding it from him?

This time she answered directly. “After we returned from the supply run. Abraham found me. We talked. I was going to tell you, but…but the interviews came up, and I—I—” she trailed off, darting her eyes away.

“You just let it go—” Rick completely it for her.

“Rick—”

“Two days—” Rick shook his head again. “It passed two days since then, Amanda.”

Her anger suddenly flared up after that, too. “Well, you barely talked to me in the last two days, Rick! Barely looked at me! I didn’t think we were ready for another fight.”

Rick barked out a bitter laugh. “So you hid it, well done.”

Her hand rose, her frustration becoming palpable as she shook them. Rick’s eyes narrowed even further as he looked at her hands. “Look, I’m sorry you learned it like this. And—”

She stopped when Rick suddenly covered the hand in front of her as he realized what she was keeping inside her palm. Rick tore it off and looked at the dark blue shinny package.

“Condoms!” He shouted, throwing it away. “You found time to pick up condoms, but couldn’t tell me about it, could you!”

Twisting her head, Amanda followed the flying package as it landed in a corner across the room. “For Christ’s sake, you told me to ask Joan!”

“And how funny it is from all my words you’ve only chosen to acknowledge that!” he countered tauntingly. “Can’t even touch me without condoms, can you?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking—”

“I do—” Rick advanced on towards her, stressing out the word. “I do, Amanda. But do you?”

“You’re angry—” she replied, shaking her head as she moved away from the table before Rick cornered her. “We should talk later—”

Taking a few quick strides, Rick didn’t let her. She wasn’t running anywhere. Rick was done with this game!

“No. That’s enough!” He snagged her elbow and pulled her back before she slipped away. “We’re gonna talk. And you will listen!”

“Fine. We talk—” She bobbed her head tersely in a swift nod. “But not here, not in the infirmary.” She jerked her head around. “People might come in. Let’s go back to the house.”

Rick didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to do anything but make her talk—talk to him, but she still had a point. He didn’t want anyone to interrupt them. Anderson might come back. Rick wanted to be alone with her. Wanted to talk to her, god, he just wanted to stop this thing now. She was moving in with him. They should’ve prepared for that, bristling with anticipation for their first real night together, not bursting with anger.

He nodded curtly. “Fine.”

She trotted towards the corner and picked up the condoms package Rick had tossed away and tucked it inside her waistline under her shirt and jacket. His jaw squared, but Rick this time stayed silent. He told himself it was good that she’d come to look for condoms for them before she moved into the master bedroom, but his other thoughts were still somewhere deep in him.

They walked to the house in the same manner too, stepping side by side, keeping a few inches distance between them. Even those few inches made Rick angry, walking like that, and he shoved his hands inside his jeans in the crispy air as Amanda bowed her head slightly. They should’ve walked hand to hand, not like this.

When they arrived, they quickly walked in and met with Mika in the corridor as the girl left the kitchen with a glass of water in her hand. “Mr. Grimes—” the little girl chirped, her eyes widening at seeing both of them in the house in the early noon. “Amanda brought you to show Judith?” she asked eagerly, a big smile splitting her face in two.

Rick turned to Amanda, his eyes looking for her in question. “Mika. No. We came—we came to talk—” she replied, going towards the staircase. “Go back to the living room.”

“What happened with Judith?” Rick asked as he followed her at the steps.

Amanda shook her head. “She started making some noises. Close to dada—” She paused for a second, slanting a look at him over her shoulder, holding the railings. “I think she’s gonna say it soon.”

His steps halted. His baby girl was going to say ‘dada’ soon. His baby girl, her first words. Rick felt his chest tightened. Amanda spied on him another look. “We were reading her book this morning,” she continued. “She saw the daddy caterpillar, and showed it to me.” Turning aside to him, her lips thinly parted. “Making noises.”

Stopping, Amanda eyed him carefully. “Do you want to see it first?” she asked. “It—it was cute.”

Rick nodded slowly. He wanted to see it, see his baby girl saying dada—

She’s B Positive.

Rick chased the words off from the dark tunnels of his mind. “Yeah.”

Quietly, they moved to the living room. Judith was Carol sitting on the blanket over the rugs like usual, patting Cinnamon. The baby tabby sprung on her pawns upon seeing Amanda in the doorway and started slowly making her way to her. Amanda curled up her kitten and brought it over her bosom as they padded to Carol and Judith with Mika.

Rick knelt and sat down beside Judy. His baby girl jumped over him, crawling on her elbows and knees much as Cinnamon did. Smiling, Rick scooped her up and placed her over his lap. He took the read-many-times tattered book from the piles of the toys and started shuffling through the pages as Amanda settled beside them.

She let the kitten go as Rick found a page in the book which made Judy let out a squeak with excitement, bending over him to reach to it. Rick watched his baby girl with a smile as he understood it was the page Amanda had mentioned.

The page was much used than the others, and Rick realized the reason too. Over the colorful page, there were two caterpillars, one with bigger, the other smaller, the father and his daughter, leaving their tome of the house in the woods. The green caterpillar had a backpack over her back as she was going to school. The father caterpillar was wearing glasses but over his face, someone had scribbled a stubble with a brown coloring pencil.

Judith patted it with her tiny hands, making out another happy sound. Rick smiled more and turned to Amanda. “You did this?” he asked, cocking his head at the picture. “The stubble?”

She shrugged, running her eyes away. “Uh, you don’t wear glasses, so I thought why not?”

Rick stared at her.

“Da—da—da—” Judith wheezed out, turning her head towards him as Rick snapped his head down at her. “Dada—” his baby girl called out to him, her small plump hands fisting at the page’s edge and hauling it to up at him, staring at him with those wide-open hazel honey eyes.

“Dada.”

Tightening his arms, Rick scooped up his baby girl at his chest closer, his heart galloping in his ribs as he sneaked a small kiss at the top of her head, dipping his head.

When Rick raised it, he saw Amanda watching them with that look under her bowed head. For a second, Rick almost pulled her at his side too, wrapping his arm around her waist, his two babies. His family.

Rick pulled up to his feet, gently leaving Judith down. “Let’s go up.”

Amanda’s head snapped at him, looking at him with a startled expression as Rick schooled his own into placidness. They needed to talk. If he stayed another minute with her like this, Rick knew what would happen. They would sit down, play with Judith, and then let it go…covering up another fight once more.

No. They’d done it too many times now. They were going to talk now.

Amanda’s face stiffened as if she also gathered it. She gave him a small nod, standing up swiftly. “Yeah.”

Without another word, leaving Carol and Mika baffled, and Judy still making baby noises, they left the living room. Rick felt the tenseness between grow further as they entered the master bedroom. Once they were inside, they stood silently, looking at each other. Twisting aside, Amanda placed the condom package she’d stuffed under her shirt on the vanity table, her eyes darting at him a quick look.

Ricks watched her silently. Her eyes flicked back to the package and the next she started walking to him. Rick still watched her silently. He wanted to see what she was going to do, and she didn’t surprise him.

Stopping in front of him, she raised her eyes at him as her free hand raised up and gently touched at the side of his face, her fingertips brushing over his stubble featherlike. Despite everything, Rick half-closed his eyes against the sensation, his arousal hitting him, stirring him inside. Even angry, hurt, pissed, Rick still wanted her madly. Her hand swept up along his neck and vanished inside his hair at the nape of his neck.

She curled her grip further, raising up on her toes, and Rick almost—almost let her seduce him. The temptation was so strong, just to fall in the bed and let it go, be lost in her again, but it wasn’t working. That wasn’t working.

Before their lips touched, Rick grabbed her hand and pushed it off an inch of himself. “No—” Rick hissed as caught up with his refusal, Amanda swayed on her feet a few steps back, staring at him, her eyes narrowing.

“Stop—” Rick rasped out, anger finding him again. “Just stop. This’s not something we can avoid with sex. We need to talk.”

She shook her head, dipping her chin. “We’re gonna fight—” she muttered. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Well, my dear, then perhaps you should’ve been open and honest with me!” Rick snapped. “Even now you’ve just tried to distract me with sex!”

Shooting him a glare with her narrowed eyes, Amanda let out a scoff. “And you still talk like you’re the expert, Rick!” she snapped back. “You still didn’t tell me what happened at the night in the garage!”

“Don’t turn this on me!” Rick almost shouted again. “Nothing with that night was about us, Amanda, nothing!” he went on, his anger flaring as just the moment he learned she’d gone behind his back once more. “This is about us. Why do you always go behind my back?”

 Her eyes widening truly, Amanda stared at him. “I’m not going behind your back! How could you even think of that?”

“Then what do you call this, Amanda?” Rick challenged, stepping from her away further. “What?” His voice raised another octave, jerking his arm around the room heatedly.

 “We’re in a relationship! Don’t I deserve to know if you decide something like this? Don’t I have a say in it? You kept me in the dark, just because you knew I wouldn’t want you to go and you didn’t want to deal with it.” The more the words poured from him, the more his anger blazed, because it was just what had happened.

“You’ve been doing the same thing with Abraham for weeks!”

“For god’s sake, I don’t want to wake up each morning beside Abraham Ford!” he shouted. “I didn’t ask Abraham to move in with me. I asked you.”

After that, Amanda let out a breath, swallowing, her eyes running away from him again. Why it was so hard for her to understand that? Or so hard to accept? From anyone else being kept in the dark would only anger him because it would be a security risk, but from her, from her it was different. It hurt. Hurt very badly.

“You’re always excluding me,” Rick said, trying to calm down his feelings. “You first took out Lizzie—”

Her eyes lit with a fire; Amanda spun to him. “Don’t bring Lizzie into this—” she warned, her voice lowering.

Rick shook his head, not listening to it. “It’s always the same,” he continued. “When you did it, I learned it from Mika. You asked Aiden to go out with them, I learned it from Deanna. This time, I learned it from Carl!”

“I still don’t need to ask your permission for anything, Rick!”

“Not my permission, dammit! But how I feel! How I felt when Deanna told me you were going out with Aiden. Or Carl asked me if you’re gonna leave and I stared back at him at a loss!”

“It’s my job, Rick! I can’t help if you’re not feeling okay with it.” She paused a second before she added, “I told you before I’m not like your wife.”

“Your job…” Rick returned it as he ignored the last part of her words. This was about them, only about them. If they started talking about the other stuff before they solved this, they would lose it completely.

“What’s your job, Amanda? Endangering yourself out there needlessly?” he asked. “I told you you don’t have to do that anymore!”

Amanda’s expression stiffened even further after his words. “Yeah, sorry, I forgot—” she sneered. “I don’t need to earn my keep as I have you now. You’ll provide for me.”

Rick stared at her but didn’t back down. “Yes.”

She stopped, not commenting, but only looking at him silently. “Amanda, why don’t you let me do it? Why don’t you let me take care of you?” Rick asked openly. “Is it really that hard to trust me?”

She shook her head. “I can do it myself just fine. I don’t need it.”

“I’m not saying you can’t. I’m not saying you need it. God, Amanda, I’m just saying I want to do it.”

“I’m sorry, Rick, but if it’s a princess you want to pamper around at the end of the world, you’ve been banging the wrong girl.” She pursed her lips. “Maybe, you should go and date Beatrice. She would like that.”

Rick tossed her another angry look, a heated retort at the tip of his tongue before letting out a hissed breath, he forced to calm himself. She was still trying to stray the topic away from them, even bringing in Beatrice in the discussion after Lori, but Rick wasn’t going to let her do it. No. This was about them, no one else.

“I don’t want to date Beatrice,” he clipped and took a few steps towards her. “Remember what I told you? The only woman I want to know better is you.”

She stayed silent, running her eyes away from him, before she murmured, “You’re not liking what you’re finding, though.”

“That’s only Abraham, Amanda—” Rick replied, ignoring again her last remark. “Deanna just said yes because she wants to see how things are outside. Why do you want to go?”

Amanda turned to him, her eyes getting flared again. “He asked me to lead a team, and I said okay. I can’t return from my word now.”

Rick returned her look, shaking his head. “This’s crazy. Amanda, crazy. I can’t watch you endanger yourself like that.”

“Then come with me!”

“I told Carl I’m gonna stay. He doesn’t want us to leave. Daryl doesn’t leave. Carol, Joan, they all want to stay.”

“Well, Beth wants to go!”

“Beth isn’t in her right mind, you know that!”

“Are you saying I’m not, too, Rick?” she fired angrily. “That’s what you’re saying? I'm a nutcase?”

Rick tossed his head back, his arms opening wide in the air before he bellowed out; “For Christ’s sake! Don’t put words into my mouth!”

Amanda suddenly froze, bowing her head as she shook it. “This isn’t working—” she slowly muttered.

Rick inhaled deeply. He braced his elbow on the cabinet’s edge beside him, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and tried to find a way before they screwed up the talk further.

“We should cool off—” he finally said over his tightened throat, his eyes casting a look at the window. “W-why don’t you go bring your pack?” he suggested. “We settle you in, take a breather. Go to make a patrol—”

Amanda cut him off. “No.” She lifted her head and her eyes found his. “It isn’t working, Rick—” she repeated, waving her hand between them. “This. Us. We—we—” she trailed off, shaking her head again.

Rick scowled, turning to her. “Amanda—”

“We’ve screwed up—” she continued, not listening to him. “We can’t stop fighting.”

“Amanda—”

She stared at him. “You’re right. We need a breath.” She swallowed slowly. “We need a break.”

The words triggered Rick’s worst fears, his worst nightmare. His pulse started accelerating. No! They didn’t need any goddamn break. They needed to move forward. Go ahead. She had to—had to let go of this childish notion and let him take care of her. She had him now. Rick couldn’t let her endanger herself like that. If he lost her, too—he silenced the thought as soon as it appeared in his mind and trotted to her with quick strides.

 “We’ve become heated again—” Rick started, his jaw moving as he tried to slow down his heartbeat. “We talk later.”

“No! There’s nothing to talk about! We can never agree on anything, but only fight, fight, fight!”

“No. Amanda, no!” He fired back, his tone heating, his pulse racing before repeating what he’d told her under a tree in the woods months ago. “We do other stuff, too. You know we do.” His fingers touched at her necklace over her collarbone. “We don’t only fight.”

“I can’t do this anymore—” Amanda muttered, twisting away from him. “I—I can’t. This isn’t working. We should stop pretending as it were.”

Stop pretending? Leaving her, letting her go. Never take her in his arms again, never kiss her again, never make love to her again, never wake up in the same bed…

“Amanda—”

“I’m sorry—” she tried to go to the door to leave—leave him, but Rick caught her again. She shook her head, trying to break his grip. “Rick, we both need it. We need a break. Think over it. Maybe we’re really wrong for each other...” she trailed off as his insides raged against the idea.

They weren’t wrong for each other! They were made for each other. She was made for him, fitting to his every edge, his every curve. His dream flashed in his mind, them in the kitchen, Rick wrapping his hands over her waist as Amanda prepared them pancakes. Rick still could smell them in the air.

“No—” He refused again firmly. No. Never!

“Rick—”

Rick jerked his head fiercely, cutting her words off.  “No!”

“Rick—”

His fist slammed the vanity table. “Amanda, we’re NOT breaking up!”

With a loud clatter, the junks over the vanity tumbled down on the floor, metal clanking and glass shattering to pieces. Even the vanity’s narrow legs trembled and the little stool under the table rolled down under the table. Amanda stared, her eyes widening before her head turned to him a second later, and Rick saw something in her widened green eyes, something he’d never seen directed at him before.

Fear.

Rick raised a trembling hand. Amanda jerked back from his touch. It felt like a stab in his heart. The way she flinched away from him, eyeing him with those wary, fearful eyes as if she was trying to assess a wild, unpredictable, untamed beast that would bite her head off.

“Amanda—” Rick stepped back, slowly breathing out her name, trying to calm down his erratic feelings, the anger, hurt, panic, fear…everything.

“Amanda—” His tone turned imploring, but she was standing motionlessly now, once again a statue of cold marble. “W-we can’t break up,” Rick tried again, his voice rough with his emotions, words leaving him with difficulty as if they were beads of glass stuck in his throat. “We stand together. We belong to each other. I knew it since I drew you to my side in front of the Death Wing.”

“And that’s why I can’t break up with you now?” she asked, staring at him in the eye as sharp as a razor of emerald. “Because we belong to each other? Because I belong to you? That’s what Gorman used to tell Joan, Rick. She couldn’t leave him because she belonged to him.” She paused for a second. “What are you going to do, Rick?” She gestured at the clutter on the floor. “Keep me at your side by force? Will you force yourself on me?”

The words sliced him, worse than the bullets had almost killed him, ripping his lungs apart, putting him into a deadly coma. He stared at her silently for a few seconds that felt like eons, the question still vibrating in the dark recesses of his mind with a stark coldness, perhaps to hear more, perhaps to wait for her to twist her blade further in him, but when he understood she wasn’t going to say anything else as she stared back at him, Rick turned and walked out of the bedroom.

Notes:

So, we've finally come to this. Amanda and Rick returned from a breakup many, many times, but really, this needed to happen. This is also another adaptation of Adaptation's breakup scene, Rick refusing a breakup as Amanda throwing out Gorman's name to force him to accept it, because, lol, I couldn't have let it go only once. In Adaptation, I couldn't have kept them apart long, they made up in the same chapter, but unfortunately On The Edge, it's gonna take a lot more than that, a lot more.
This fight was also inspired a lot by Rick and Lori's fights during Season 1 and Season 2. I watched those fights countless times to get Rick's mentality and actions right, especially as he escalated towards the finale, punching the vanity table, and Amanda flinching away from him as Lori did. That moment also was inspired a bit by Shane and Lori's scene in the CDC, too, things getting out of control, as Rick also escalated a request for a break to a full break up out of fear of losing her.

The next chapter will close up this arc, as we will see what will happen with the mission D.C. Does Amanda leave or not, and how they're going to handle a breakup. How Rick is gonna handle it, what Amanda will do, etc.
I'm gonna update the next chapter, but I still wait for three reviews, guys. About Amanda and Rick. Keep your writer happy and less stressed. Thanks! Hope to see you soon!

Chapter 25: 'Not a woman like me'

Summary:

After their breakup, Amanda decides that she can't stay in the same place with Rick anymore, so she prepares to move out before they leave for D.C. Things don't go accordingly.

Notes:

All right, let's do it. Attention, this chapter contains a ridiculous amount of self-blame and self-worth issues after a breakup, feeling sorry for yourself, you know. The usual breakup stuff, only multiplied because it's Amanda.
Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

After Rick left the room, Amanda stepped back against the wall and started trembling violently. Her eyes were hurting, tears welled inside, and when she felt wetness over her cheeks, she realized they had broken free. Her teary eyes swept over the clutter on the hardwood floor as she stood her back against the wall, trembling. Before she understood, her knees gave in too and she sank on the floor.

How had they come to this?

She just wanted to think over it. Everything was going madly again, she didn’t know what to think, what to feel, everything piled on each other, not giving her a moment of relief. She didn’t want to finish up what they had for good, stopping it entirely. Damn her if she thought Rick would have reacted this way.

That fierce savage beast was Rick, too, a part of him that Amanda had accepted, the good, the bad, and the ugly, but. She recalled her talk with Joan, the woman trying to warn her just like Amanda had started getting worried for Gorman.

She shook her head. No. No. Rick wasn’t like Gorman. It wasn’t his cloth, even despite how she’d challenged him, she knew it. Rick would’ve never forced himself on her. She didn’t believe that. The way he looked at her when Amanda uttered those words—as if—as if she’d just tore off his chest and ripped out his heart. That hurt, pained look, mixed with anger—

God!

They were done. Amanda couldn’t see how they could come back from this. Perhaps that was the truth they needed to accept. Although they deeply cared for each other, perhaps they were really wrong for each other. Perhaps they were one of those people that shouldn’t be together because they had so many issues that only made things worse.

Perhaps Rick needed someone like Beatrice, a woman he would take care of just like how he desired without turning it into a matter of life and death situation like Amanda had managed to do. She wished she could have been that woman, but she wasn’t. Amanda always knew she wasn’t wife material.

Her eyes cut over the clutter again as a stark desperation gripped her. This was the final destination Amanda had managed to carry them, keeping herself away from him. There was a part in her that knew Rick was right again, even when he was wrong.

But she didn’t want this to happen. It hurt her, but Amanda had to accept it now too. She wasn’t the right person for Rick Grimes. The reality made her feel worse, her tears flooding worse, but she could see it openly now.

They were just wrong for each other.

She pulled up her knees on the floor and hugged herself around her legs, resting her head on her knees. It was going to pass away. It hurt now, but, it should go away…eventually. Time happened and even hurt faded away. It was better for anyone. Amanda couldn’t deal with this. Rick obviously couldn’t deal with it.

He needed a Beatrice to take care of, she thought once more. How he was in the prison when they first met, how much he lost his shit when he thought he’d failed to protect his wife. Perhaps it was just his issues, trying to make up for his own mistakes, but there was one truth Amanda always knew about him well.

Rick Grimes was a family man. Even he had told himself, told her he had wanted to settle down, got bored of the bachelor lifestyle, and proposed. On the other hand, Amanda had finished her friends with benefits relationship when Michael asked for commitment because she couldn’t even have thought of herself in a serious relationship that way, the notion coming so foreign to her.

She had been trying with Rick, but this was how they had ended up; Rick trashing the room screaming at her she belonged to him like a possessive asshole boyfriend, the very kind that Amanda had always felt wary, and Amanda punching people in front of everyone in public like a mad banshee. Denise was right, she had lost it after Nicholas brought Rick into their fight.

She lifted her head and looked at the distorted room again, the vanity table. Even to think now that she was going to stay with him together in this room, sharing it made her feel so baffled that Amanda wondered for a few seconds if she had lost all her sense, believing in it, thinking she would do it.

The broken pieces over the floor had brought back the reality. Perhaps in the next fight, Rick would do even worse, kick off the vanity table completely, breaking furniture, throwing stuff around, punching the walls, losing his anger further until…

She stopped that line of thought. Rick could be aggressive, but he wouldn’t cross that line. Rick’s possessiveness was born from love, and his need to protect people he cared about deeply whereas, with men like Gorman, it was all about their vanity and egos, and their self-image. Even when Rick had attacked Tyreese unhinged, he’d taken two direct punches in his face before he lost it completely. Almost punching her too in the meantime, but he’d managed to stop himself. Nevertheless, there was still that little wary voice in the back of her mind that told her they were playing with fire.

It was another lesson Amanda had learned at a young age; if you play with fire, you get burned.

Because despite her sadness and regret, Amanda was equally bothered with her reaction, too, the way she stared at him frozen after seeing him like that with her, as if she was turned to stone for a few seconds.

In her first years in the force, Amanda had seen a lot of women she could’ve never thought of putting up with domestic violence suffered it silently until it was too late, or too hard to keep quiet. She’d never understood why, especially seeing working-class capable women still trying to salvage their relationships, but Amanda knew it happened. Once she’d even seen a middle-aged director of a board suffering a black eye and split eyebrow, but forsaking putting charges at the end in the last minute. Her husband was a history professor.

That night Amanda had thought in her flat long and hard, trying to understand why a woman such as would accept this kind of treatment from a man, but she couldn’t find any reasonable answer other than being afraid of getting out with it and being socially branded, or somehow developing a sort of Stockholm Syndrome.

She shook her head, eyeing the room again, and started standing up. Perhaps it was really best for everyone if they stayed away from each other. She passed the back of her hand over her cheeks, drying her eyes, blinking rapidly. Her breaths were hitched, but she wasn’t sobbing.

Small victories… Amanda shook her head again, her shoulders sagging with a deep, long sigh before she started padding towards the bathroom. She took the waste bin there and came back inside the room.

This wasn’t going to be her bedroom now, and this wasn’t her mess, either, but she couldn’t leave the room for Judith and Carl like this. It was very unlikely Rick would come back inside the house tonight. No. Not after her lashing out, not after her last words.

For a few seconds, she even thought of looking for him, to tell him she didn’t think of him like that—like Gorman. Her hands freezing, Amanda remembered it again, Rick turning his most savage persona whenever he was threatened, hurt, or scared of losing what he held dear to his heart.

I love you—

His confession found her again, breaking her tears once more. Amanda had never let herself think of those words, but they seeped through her barriers. Why don’t you let me take care of you? Is it really that hard?

She didn’t know. It just felt…wrong.

And how does that make you feel?

Doesn’t make me feel anything. It’s what it is.

Damn her if she knew what it damn felt like!

On a crazy, mad urge, Amanda even thought of finding him to tell him that she didn’t know, that she didn’t damn know what she wanted, how she felt. That it felt so wrong to let him even when it made her feel relieved, knowing that he cared about her deeply, that she was confused, that those damn interviews even made her more baffled, making her remember about the past, how she had ended up killing that drug dealer, how she almost got herself expelled if Dawn didn’t cover her ass, but she didn’t know the words—and—Amanda didn’t want to get burned.

Or burn him further.

So she dropped on her knees again and started tidying the room. It was best they stayed away from each other. Her hands froze again as Amanda picked up a broken piece of the container over the vanity table, realizing something else.

They truly needed to stay away from each other, and how the hell were they going to do that?

They lived in a small house. They couldn’t play hide and seek with each other in the same damn house, sleeping in the rooms next to each other!

The fact brought to her another realization, something as stark as breaking up with him, making her throat clench, leaking her tears once more.

Amanda needed to move out.

# # #

Amanda didn’t know how long she passed staring at the wall, trying to process the fact that she couldn’t stay with them in the same house anymore, but when she regained her motor functions and started picking off the clutter once more, her eyes had turned dry.

She tried to formulate a plan. Rick had Judith, who needed the master bedroom and its bathroom, so Amanda had to move out.

But where?

The other house was full, and she doubted that Deanna would give her one of the empty houses. She would ask if there was an empty room in the other houses she would loan, but even the thought of living with these people she didn’t know anything about making her cringe.

No.

Moving out was as hard as it was, leaving Beth, Mika, Judith. She liked living here, playing with kids, watching TV in the living room, making breakfast in the morning, eating supper at night. More than a house, it’d started to feel like a…home.

She couldn’t deal with strangers, trying to live with them. Perhaps she was just losing her adaptation skills. Amanda had always easily adjusted to new situations, her younger years had taught her how to fit into the new houses quickly, but trying to make up with new people now sounded dreadful.

But she still couldn’t stay in the house. She wondered if she could make a place for herself like Daryl in the other garage before Rick moved Carl to the attic.

Her back straightened, Amanda drew up. The attic. She could move to the other’s house attic, too. It was better than the garage. Living with the others wouldn’t be the same, but at least she still would be inside a house. It still wasn’t the same thing, but it was better than the alternative.

Amanda had never been close with Sasha and Bob, Tyreese’s sacrifice at Grady had driven a wedge between them, even though Sasha never made a case against her for it. But it was just something Amanda couldn’t forget easily. There was a respectful rapport between her and Abraham and his gang, but she could hardly call them friends, too. More like co-workers or something, but perhaps they could be more. Amanda was willing to try.

The others would understand. Everyone knew things were complicated between her and Rick. Amanda didn’t need to explain, she didn’t need to explain herself to anyone anymore. Suddenly she paused again, realizing it wasn’t entirely true. She did need to explain herself to someone.

Beth. Beth needed to know why she had to leave the house.

It saddened Amanda even worse. Beth needed her space as much as Carl, but Amanda felt scared if the teenager would feel abandoned if Amanda moved out entirely. She supposed they could exchange their room with Sasha and Bob, Beth going to their room, Amanda going to the attic, but Beth’s place wasn’t in the second house.

No. Beth belonged with her family, with the people in the C Block. Even Sasha was still sleeping in the D Block when they were in the prison. Beth belonged with her family, not separating from them because of Amanda.

Standing up, Amanda tied up the disposal bag out of the waste bin and secured it with a knot. She placed the items that weren’t broken back on the vanity’s counter, picking up the condoms package too. She slipped it under her shirt again, trying not to think on it anymore.

Taking the disposal bag, she left the master bedroom. Downstairs she quickly made her way into the kitchen and dumped the small bag into the bigger dumpster as Carol with Judith walked into the kitchen.

“Is everything okay?” the older woman asked. Even though her expression was gentle, her eyes were hawkish.

Amanda wondered how much of it Carol had heard. Their shouts, the sounds it made when Rick trashed the litters on the hardwood floor. Perhaps she even saw how Rick left the house. She nodded quickly, the urge to run away out of the house building in her further. She couldn’t stay here, she just couldn’t.

“Yeah—” she mumbled under her breath. “Had a fight.”

“Did he break something or was it you?” The question came so out of blue, whipping her head at the older woman, Amanda stared.

“I heard the glass shattering,” Carol explained, easing Judith into her highchair. Amanda didn’t even know anymore if she should cry or laugh when she realized the older woman couldn’t decide who did it, Rick or her.

“We broke up—” she settled with informing Carol.

Carol was silent for a few minutes before she inquired. “For real?”

Amanda shook her shoulders. She didn’t know. Not anymore. This really wasn’t what she’d meant when she asked for a break, but she still couldn’t see how they could come back from this. Or they should come back from this.

 “I—I don’t know—” Amanda muttered. “We just broke up.” It was also true. It wasn’t like they sat down and talked about it, reaching an agreement. She supposed couples also sat down and talked through a breakup, coming clean, but they’d never managed to be a couple in the first place.

Amanda couldn’t imagine them starting now, either.

Pouring water in the kettle, Carol suddenly stated. “Rick needs you.” She looked up at Amanda directly as she still held the kettle, her tone as firm as her gaze. “You should make up with him.”

Her eyes narrowing, Amanda stared at the older woman back. “You want me to keep him settled, don’t you?” she asked slowly.

Turning on the kettle, the woman set it down on its counter, looking as unapologetic as ever. “I heard about you and Joan, Amanda. Don’t act naive now. Men like Rick need a woman. He’s wired that way.”

“But not a woman like me—” Amanda refused, jerking her head, but couldn’t bring herself to tell her that Rick needed a woman like Beatrice to make him happy and settled.

“I wouldn’t be sure of that, officer,” the grey-haired woman replied, giving her a sly smirk turning aside. “Men like him also like challenges. Rick likes you because you don’t make things easy for him.” She paused for a second. “Sometimes your spirit even reminds me of Lori.” Her sharp blue eyes grew even more inspective. “You look like her too.”

With that, Amanda frowned fully, mulling over what the woman had stated, ignoring the last remark. She didn’t want to think how much she looked like Rick’s dead wife. It was a can of worms Amanda couldn’t dare to open right now. If ever. But what Carol said about her not making things easier for him, the words sounded like she was…a conquest.

The furrow between her eyebrows deepened. “I’m not a conquest,” she clipped back. “And Rick isn't like that.”

Perhaps there was a shed of truth in the words, everyone liked challenges, being intrigued by what they didn’t have, but Rick wasn’t like how Carol had implied. But instead of pressing on it, Carol just smiled at her again. “You’re still defending him, eh, sweetheart?”

Amanda’s lips clenched further, realizing the woman was messing up with her. To what end, Amanda wasn’t sure, though.

“You’re right. Rick isn’t like that, but he’s still a man, Amanda,” she continued. “When Rick came to the quarry, it took us about a day or so before we started listening to him. I don’t even know how it happened, really. He just said something, and we did it. Sometimes we questioned him, his decisions, but at the end, we all stayed with him.”

Amanda gave a brief nod in silence, not knowing what else to do, not knowing where this conversation was leading to. So she waited silently.

“Rick does need a woman,” Carol concluded, not letting her wonder longer. “He’s done with his grief. You pushed him out of there. But if you leave him now, he’s gonna find another one eventually. Another woman will come forth and claim him. Every single woman in this town must be practically praying for it each night—” Carol went on almost teasingly. “Are you really sure you want that to happen?”

The question halted her as she dipped her head to stare at the floor. That was what she had thought, right? A woman like Beatrice coming and taking Rick. It was bound to happen; Amanda knew it. She shouldn’t be bitter. Their…love was just impossible.

Then why the hell hearing it from someone else made her feel as if something suddenly slid inside her chest and stabbed her in the heart again.

The kettle whistled, steam emerging out from the boiled water. Her eyes cut over to it as an image rose before them, Rick and Beatrice sitting around the kitchen’s island together, Judith and Carl between them as they ate pancakes. Their expressions were relaxed, and they were looking at each other with small smiles as they chattered easily.

Her heart ached even worse. Amanda shook her head, shooing away the image. “I—I don’t know.”

“Well, then, figure out quickly,” Carol replied, going over to the kettle to turn it off. “He won’t stay bachelor long.”

Amanda forced herself to shrug, trying to let the words wash over her. If Rick found his princess to pamper at the end of the world, well, Amanda was just going to suck it up, she guessed. “I know,” she remarked truthfully. “I’m moving out of the house.”

Carol’s face stiffened after that as she eyed Amanda closely. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t force him to a breakup because I was bored, Carol—” she snapped. “Of course, I’m serious!”

Carol raised her eyebrow. “Did you force him?”

Amanda cursed inwardly. “H-he didn’t want to.”

“I see.” She started pouring hot water into a white mug, her blue eyes raising to hers again. “Is it why I heard those sounds?” Carol questioned. “Did he break something because you wanted to break up?” There was wariness inside her eyes now, as much as in her words, something also made Amanda wary too, but she nodded in admission.

“He hit the vanity,” she replied lowly. “The glass junk fell.”

Carol nodded in return. “I see.” She paused for a beat. “Perhaps, you’re right. Perhaps it’s the best you move out of the house.”

Amanda’s jaw clenched, anger finding her, hearing the words, even worse than hearing Rick might find himself a girlfriend soon, and she didn’t even know why! She shook her head, not wanting to continue to talk anymore because she didn’t damn know what else to say.

She turned and left the kitchen. She should find Beth and talk to her. She didn’t want to think anymore. Despite what Carol had said, what Amanda had felt, there was a part of her that still thought Rick wouldn’t move on that easily to another woman just after their breakup.

She just didn’t see it happening. Besides, he’d just walked out after her words. They didn’t discuss it further. Maybe they should…talk about it a bit more. She shook her head inwardly as soon as the thought—the hope appeared in her mind.

No. There was nothing to talk about. They were wrong for each other, making each other worse.

We stand together. We belong to each other. I knew it since I drew you to my side in front of the Death Wing.

His words skated over her mind suddenly after then, her breath hitching just as the part she was trying to silence down whispered that his words were true, too. She’d even walked inside Alexandria’s gates beside him, standing at his side. It’d felt natural.

Amanda shook her head with frustration, forcing the thought away as her eyes started hurting again. It was done. They were done. This was the best, for both of them. In time, it would pass away.

She walked out on the porch, her eyes scanning the grounds to look for Rick. She wasn’t ready yet to see him. Nope. She surveyed the area, focusing on the construction sites along the wall to build the platforms Rick wanted and realized with a relief he was nowhere around. Briefly, she wondered where he was, but started stepping down to find Beth.

Her feet brought her to their obstacle course. Something urged her to try the quasi-finished parkour. The action was always good, put things away from her mind. But she needed to find Beth. She also was curious how exactly Carl had learned that she was leaving. Rick had said he’d learned from Carl, and only two people knew that she was leaving: Abraham and Beth. Amanda had personally warned Abraham, so it left Beth.

She closed on the mud pit they’d covered with a cargo net to crawl underneath. It was one of the hardest parts of the track, something Amanda wanted to test personally. It was going to take a real effort to keep the mud not dried, but if they could manage planting and flower beds, they could surely manage that, too. She almost dived in the pit, but out of the corner of her eye, she picked up movement from her left side.

Amanda shifted towards the maintenance building to check out, her heart skipping a beat. Rick usually spent a lot of time in the warehouse, but what she saw made her frown, her lips flattened.

It wasn’t Rick, and it wasn’t the maintenance building, either. Two figures were slipping out of the greenhouse next to it, close to the masonry wall, and it took a second or so for Amanda to realize it was Beth and Ron.

Amanda eyed the teenagers curiously as they halted, spotting her too. When Amanda neared them, her eyebrows got lost behind her hairline, fully taking in their appearance.

Beth’s cheeks were flushed, much like Ron’s, her hair tousled, and it also didn’t take long for Amanda to pick up the lovebites and red spots along her neck and under her jaw.

Oh.

Beth twisted to her boyfriend with a closed-lipped smile. “I see ya later, ‘kay?” Ron nodded, shifting his eyes between them. He dipped and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

Amanda’s eyebrow raised again, but she stayed silent. After the teenager left, Amanda turned to Beth. “Beth?”

Beth let out a sigh, shaking her shoulders. “I was ready, Amanda. I wanted it.” She paused. “We used the condom.”

“Okay—” Amanda accepted. She didn’t know what else to do. “Are you okay, right?”

Beth nodded again. “Yeah.” She smiled. “I’m okay.”

Amanda then finally smiled back at her. “Was it good?”

“Um, I think—” Beth laughed out. “I think I need to practice more to make my final decision.” Amanda shook her head as the teenager asked, her voice almost…innocent. “Can we find more condoms, Amanda?”

“Don’t need it—” Amanda replied, fishing out the package in her pocket. She’d figured she would pass it back to Joan, but it looked like she didn’t need to. “Found another one from Joan.”

“Ah. Good.” Beth took the package Amanda handed her and started opening it. Amanda stopped her. “No. No need. Keep it all.”

Beth’s hands stopped and she lifted her head to look up at her. “All of it?” she echoed back.

Amanda nodded. “Yeah.” Beth narrowed her eyes. Amanda decided it was a nice opening to come clean. “Rick and I—we broke up. I don’t need them anymore.”

The blue eyes this time widened. “You broke up? Why?”

Bowing her head, Amanda poked at a dirt spot beside the masonry wall with the tip of her boot. “We fought.”

“And?” Beth pressed further. “You always fight.”

The words made Amanda inhale deeply. “Yeah, we always fight.” She shook her head, remembering what she had told Rick. “It isn’t working, Beth.”

Beth mimicked her gesture, too, as she slowly said, “I never thought you’d break up.”

Amanda raised her head. “Why?” she asked. “Why did you think like that?”

“I don’t know—” Beth replied. “I guess you look like you’re two halves of a whole—” she remarked in the same slow consideration, eyeing her as something seized in her chest. “Like Glenn and Maggie. Different, but completing each other.” She paused, shrugging. “I just felt like this.” The teenager gave her another look. “It’s the end?” she inquired again. “Certain?”

The question made her pause again. Amanda shook her shoulders. “Yeah…” she murmured. “I think.”

“You think?”

“He sort of walked out of the room in the discussion.”

“Ah. It’s not certain then?”

Amanda shook her head in objection. “No. We broke up, Beth. It’s—I—we need a break. I need a break.” She stopped, gulping. “Beth, I’m moving out of the house too,” she finally stated. “I can’t stay here now.”

Amanda expected fiery objections, tantrums, but Beth only jerked her head in a brief nod. “I see—” she replied firmly. “Okay then. We ask Sasha and Bob to change the rooms and move on to the other house.”

“No—” Amanda declined, shaking her head. “Beth, no. It’s your home, your family. I don’t want to change that.”

The fiery objection she’d been waiting for came directly after that. “No! I’m not letting you go there alone.”

“Beth, I’m not going to be alone. Those are also our people.” Beth shook her head, not buying her words. “And you need a room for yourself, honey,” Amanda continued, walking closer to her. “You need it as much as Carl.”

That made her consider her words, but she asked the next second, frowning. “Where do you going to stay then if Sasha and Bob will stay in the house?”

“Uh, I was thinking of the other attic—”

Beth cut her off, “Attic?” the teenager cried out. “You’re gonna stay in the attic?”

“Carl does—”

“Carl is fifteen—” Beth opposed, shaking her head. “No. You stay. I go to the attic if you want to stay alone.”

“Beth, I’m not running away from you—” Amanda replied, stepping in even closer. “I can’t stay in the same house with Rick.” Her tone wavered again as she blurted out, forcing the words out of her with her confession.

But Beth wasn’t listening to her. “Then Rick goes to the attic—” she offered. “You stay in.”

“So Judith lives in the attic while I have the master bedroom—” She shook her head. “No.”

That made finally relented Beth with a deep sigh. “You’re really going, aren’t you?” she asked, bowing her head slightly in defeat.

Amanda nodded. “I’ll be just in the next house.”

She nodded, too, but they both knew it wasn’t going to be the same. Her tears almost welled again, but Amanda didn’t let them break free this time. She didn’t want to make it harder for Beth.

Amanda swallowed through the tight lump in her throat and asked. “Did you say Carl we’re going to D.C with Abraham?” she asked, changing the topic.

Beth raised her head, giving her a suspicious look this time. “Yeah. He said Rick was staying—” Beth suddenly stopped, realizing what had happened, staring at her wildly with her widened eyes. “Oh my god! Y-you fought because of the mission, right?”

Amanda accepted with a brief nod. “Carl told him.”

Beth’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

Amanda shrugged again, not wanting to discuss it. “Had a fight.”

Beth studied her keenly. “Why didn’t you tell him, Amanda? Carl said Rick didn’t know we’re going.”

With another nod, Amanda accepted too. “Yeah. I was going to, but…things happened.” She turned around. “I need to go and check the attic—” she said, wanting to finish the discussion, understanding that she wasn’t ready to talk about it with anyone, not only with Rick.

Beth nodded, but her eyes were still narrowed before Amanda started walking. “Amanda—” the teenager called out to her. Amanda stopped and turned back to her. “We’re still going, aren’t we?”

“Yes—” Amanda replied, giving her another small loop of her head. “We’re still going.”

Amanda headed back to the house, intent on finishing up with the attic so she could move out before dinner, before Rick would turn back. She still didn’t think he would, at least before a midnight shift, but Amanda didn’t want to play on luck. The sooner she finished this, the better it was going to be for everyone.

They were like a butterfly effect; when they fucked up, their ripple effects were affecting everyone involved with them. Amanda was tired of hurting people she cared about. She couldn’t gather furniture for the attic in a day, it took Rick two days to prepare it. Amanda didn’t need it. Even her bedrolls and a blanket with a pillow would be enough for her right now.

 She passed Deanna’s house quickly, keeping her gaze dutifully trained ahead of her, catching Aiden’s figure out on the porch again. She was going to make up with them just like she’d demanded from Denise this morning, but Amanda didn’t want to think about it right now, either.

But she was short on luck today for dealing with stuff she didn’t want to. “Amanda—” Aiden called out to her from upstairs as she passed under the railings.

Amanda stopped and craned her head up to look at the man. “Do you have a moment?” he asked, sounding firm but reserved.

Without a word, Amanda started taking the steps. “I talked to Denise,” Aiden remarked when she stopped at the corner of the railings, facing him. “Do you want to talk with us?”

Without a fuss, Amanda gave a quick tilt of the head. “Yes,” she accepted. “We need to sit down and talk. You’re coming to D.C the next week with us, right?”

The older Monroe nodded back for confirmation. “We need to resolve this issue before we leave.” Amanda went on. “And I’m sorry, but I need to be sure there won’t be any nonsense like in the nursery when we cross to D.C. We can’t risk it like that, Aiden. You know we can’t.” She shook her head, remembering what she’d told Maggie before her words proven right once more.

“I know I was mean, and my words were spiteful,” she accepted, too. “But this world doesn’t forgive mistakes. One slip, one mistake—” She jerked her head towards the wall, gesturing outside. “That’s the whole difference between us and them.”

She turned and started leaving the porch then, but Aiden’s voice stopped her. “We know it isn’t a game—” he told her. Amanda stopped and twisted aside. “And Nicholas doesn’t try to be the best,” he declared.

“We lost our team member a few months ago,” Aiden continued as she stared at him silently, turning fully towards him. “He was Nicholas’s best friend from childhood. They arrived together in the town, just after us. Even before Dave and his pals. We trained together, went out together. He was the best shot of us. Never missed anything. We trusted our asses to him all the time.”

Amanda didn’t need to ask what had happened to the man. She already knew. “Two months ago, we lost him outside. He stayed behind again to cover our ass. Couldn’t come back. We—we had to leave him behind. Perhaps he’s still out there somewhere, a walking corpse. I don’t know.”

His voice hitching, Aiden paused, shaking his head. “We don’t talk about it. Nicholas blamed himself a lot because he couldn’t make the shots, clearing his path to fall back with us.” He paused again, his dark eyes finding hers. “You were right. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to stop. I just couldn’t. Nicholas doesn’t try because he wants to be the best, Amanda. He does it because he feels he owes it to Daniel.”

Amanda swallowed a tightness over her throat as Aiden’s grew heavier. “Don’t give hope on us yet—” Aiden called out for the last. “We’re still trying, too.”

“My field is almost ready. I’ll start classes after we come back from D.C.” They had started making so many plans for the future, Amanda faintly realized too, even though they still lost people, just like Aiden had confessed; life was still going on, and they were all trying to deal with their losses.

“I need to train, too—” she went on. “There was stuff I wasn’t happy with after we got stranded in the woods. We all need to get better, train harder. I was thinking of asking Abraham’s help for an Army-grade training, maybe you could join me, too?” she offered as an olive branch.

Aiden nodded. “Yeah. I think we can manage that.”

“I see you around then—” Amanda said, turning to leave again.

She felt his eyes on her back watching her as she walked away, but Amanda didn’t look back. Instead, she started looking for Sasha and the others to tell them she was going to need their attic. It was going to raise questions, but it was something she needed to deal with, too, just like she had just done with Aiden.

She was going to deal with everything in due time. She’d already started. Perhaps she would manage to find a common ground with Rick and they could salvage their relationship. Perhaps they just needed a break. She didn’t know, but they were going to see.

Her eyes scanned again on their own, trying to spot him, just as the moment, he carried a short steel beam out of the warehouse. Amanda halted in her steps, her eyes following him as Rick strode towards the workbench along the wall, his eyes trained ahead, the beam supported on his shoulder between his hands.

She knew she should go, it was still too new, but her feet planted roots in the ground as Rick started walking in front of her. Amanda thought about a few seconds to call out for him, but she still didn’t know what to say. Nevertheless, she didn’t need to feel conflicted long. His face stern, his jaw clenched, staring ahead, Rick passed in front of her without even a glance at her direction, ignoring all her existence.

As he walked towards the workstation purposely, Amanda stared at his back.

# # #

Like a life-size puppet, Rick blindly did his chores all day. He couldn’t do anything else, couldn’t do think anything else, he chopped the plates and beams, measured, his hands working nonstop, his gaze fixated on his work.

He’d picked up Amanda’s stare in the town around noon as she stood in the street watching him but didn’t see her again after then. Because he didn’t look for her. No. He was just going to do his work, kept his distance away from her, as she demanded, not forcing his unwanted presence on her.

Will you force yourself on me?

Rick jerked his head slightly, putting the words off his mind, driving them away. No. He wasn’t going to think on them, because whenever he did, the hurt and anger he felt as if someone was truly lashing him returned, hearing it from her as she looked at him in that way after he hit the vanity table.

Was Rick that person? No. He wasn’t. He would’ve never done it, never force himself on her, never hurt her. How she could even think of it, think of him like that?

Rick knew she always questioned them from the beginning, but she really thought Rick was capable of doing something like that? Forcing her to stay at his side, taking her by force? That was what she expected from him?

He’d overstepped his boundaries with trashing the room, but what she’d implied…Why she always had to assume the worst about him?

When Rick said they belonged to each other, he didn’t mean it like that. Didn’t mean she belonged to him. He just felt they were completing each other in a way that fit. His dream came to him again, the way Rick cocooned her from her back in the kitchen, Amanda nimbly fitting in his arms—

Rick shook his head, chasing away that thought again. He’d thought it was the truth, felt it strongly, believed it, but perhaps it was only his wishful thinking, Amanda didn’t feel like him. Rick had never managed to quell down her doubts, Amanda had never managed to let them go. If that was what Amanda wanted, Rick wasn’t going to bother her again.

No one bothered him, too. Rick didn’t know if they heard about their breakup, but people kept their distance the whole day, even Daryl. There were only Carol and kids inside the house when Rick had stormed out, but gossips spread quickly in this town. Rick didn’t mind. He wanted to be alone. He even thought of going out, but he needed these platforms, and working with his hands on something kept him more settled than hunting walkers outside.

There was a part inside him that still was raging, hurling, wanting to trash, break furniture, go out and kill as much as walkers possible, that nameless beast, the same part that still wanted Amanda, the part that still rioted the fact that Rick wasn’t going to sleep in the bed with her tonight like he desired, yearned for, that part that still screamed she belonged with him, at his side, in his arms, but Rick silenced it. He wasn’t sure if he could keep himself restrained if he pondered on it longer.

Will you force yourself on me?

The saw slipped an inch, and Rick yanked his left hand the second before he chopped it off. The edge cut his palm. Blood started oozing as Rick seethed through his nostrils in anger.

He took out the red cloth from his back pocket and wrapped his hand. Before supper time, he changed his place with Sasha, taking her place in the bell tower. It was cold, windy in the heights like usual, but Rick let the cold infused in him, quenching his burning heat. He didn’t want to feel anything anymore.

When he returned to the house, the moon was high in the sky, close to midnight. Rick slowly padded towards the back deck, still not wanting to go inside. Amanda possibly preferred him not to as well, at least not tonight when things were fairly new. Rick had no idea what they were going to do now, how they could manage living like this, but they were all questions for later. Right now, Rick didn’t want anything but to survive the first night of their breakup.

Daryl wasn’t around the back deck, so Rick was alone. He snagged his cigarette package out of his pocket. He’d stashed it in the maintenance building’s management office after he figured out Beth and Carl had smoked and took it back in the morning. He hadn’t smoked in the town during the day, but alone here in the silent night, it was time to have one.

He lit the cigarette with the lighter he kept in his duty belt and dragged a long breath in. The heavy nicotine burned his throat raw, itching, and Rick welcomed the feeling once more.

When it finished, Rick lit another one. One just didn’t come enough. He was in the middle of it before Rick heard faint crunches from his right side. His head whipped towards the short bush fence that separated the houses beside a narrow cobblestone path. The next second, Amanda suddenly appeared at the other side.

His eyes narrowed, Rick took off the cigarette from between his lips, giving her a look as Amanda leaped from the other side to his side. She slowly walked towards him and pointed his hand. “Can I have one, too?” she asked.

Without a word, Rick fished out the package and extended it to her. Amanda took one, and as she bent down in him, Rick lit it too.

Straightening up, Amanda inhaled deeply before letting the smoke out slowly. Rick watched her silently as she did, taking a drag himself too, waiting her to speak. She had come, so Rick waited. He didn’t know what else she might want to tell him, or what she was doing exactly at the other side, but he didn’t talk. He was tired of trying to talk to her, too. Trying to open her up.

Amanda lowered her hand at her side after taking another inhale before she stated with a low voice, “I moved out today—” Her head gestured at the other house. “I’m gonna stay in their attic.”

 The words felt like a punch in his guts, but Rick only took another puff from his smoke before he bobbed his head a little in return. He wasn’t even sure why she’d come to tell him. Why she bothered this time? It wasn’t like that she cared what he would feel.

Amanda’s eyes narrowed at his reaction as she looked at him as if…as if she expected a reaction from him.

Rick didn’t know what to say. Half of him wanted to lash at her back how she could do it, how she could think so logically when Rick barely managed to wander around the town all day like a ghost, going to take shifts before he chopped his damn hand as the other just wanted to beg her again not to leave him. Wanted to tell her he couldn’t even think of a life without her anymore, how he felt numb the whole day, how he couldn’t even bring himself to walk inside the house and go to the master bedroom, face the bed he’d dreamed of sharing with her.

But Amanda didn’t want to hear any of those, so he quenched the cigarette on the step, frisking it away before he looked up at her. “Did you find all the furniture you need?” he questioned. He should make sure at least she had everything she needed. “We can arrange some stuff from here too.”

Her eyebrows knitted into a full frown. “No—” she rasped in a hiss. “I handle it.”

Rick gave her a look. She really sounded…pissed.

Rick frowned too. He must be behaving like how she wanted, giving her space like she’d demanded, not throwing a…hissy fit because she wanted to put some distance between them.

She wanted a break from him, whatever it damn meant.

Rick had never been on a break before. He’d only broken up and moved on until he met Lori and they got married. Amanda’s relationship experience was even worse than him, so Rick wasn’t sure what a break entitled to, but he felt like they were done now.

Her eyes still narrowed with her pinched eyebrows, Amanda shot him a pissed look, and Rick vaguely wondered if she expected something different from him like—making a fuss, throwing out another hissy fit. Telling her she couldn’t leave the damn house, leave him?

It didn’t make any sense, but Rick knew that flattened lips or clenched brows Amanda had whenever she wasn’t liking something.

Rick stood up. “Amanda—” he called out to her, climbing down from the steps slowly. “What—”

His words were suddenly interrupted by a scream from the next house as they both spun on the other side before it was followed with his name; “RICK!”

# # #

Her annoyance was only hindered by the scream of his name. It’d surely started bringing back memories. Amanda didn’t have much time to ponder on his reaction after then, the way he’d taken that she’d moved out. Amanda wanted to break the news personally this time, didn’t want him to learn it from the others, shoot her, she was being considerate.

She’d been waiting for another set of objections, telling her she shouldn’t leave, telling her it was…her home, too, but he didn’t even blink! It looked like after what happened today, Rick had come to the same conclusion too. They were wrong for each other. Rick had finally seen it, too. Preferring her to stay away.

It hurt, something deeply throbbing in her chest, Carol’s words faintly in the dark recess of her mind, but instead of focusing them, Amanda focused on Sasha’s urgent, feverish tones still yelling for him.

“Rick! Rick!”

Rick had already lunged forward and jumped over the plant fence, passing him. Amanda followed him quickly. They ran down on the driveway at the other side as Sasha finally emerged out on the porch, too.

“RICK!” the Afro-American woman headed towards the railings as Rick yelled back.

“Sasha!” He held the railings, still running over to the steps. “What’s happening?”

Sweeping around towards them, she jumped down over them. They met over the rows of flowers Amanda had kept beside the driveway. “It’s Abraham!” the woman cried out. “He-he's gonna kill Eugene!”

“What?” Amanda asked as they started running back over to the porch.

“It’s—it’s about D.C—” Sasha replied, slanting a look over at her, holding back the screen day. “Eugene—he lied. He confessed tonight to Abraham. There’s no cure.”

Amanda always thought nothing would surprise her anymore in this world, or no one, but she stood corrected once more.

The statement froze her at the doorway, much like Rick at the same time. She blinked a few times, looking at the other woman, trying to register the words.

There was no cure. No cure.

No. Cure.

Was it still possible to be shocked over something you never truly believed in it, aside from being a…hope?

God.

Her eyes darted at Rick, who was squinting inside with a mighty grimace, his jaw clenched. Amanda almost shivered just at the same time the fighting sounds heated worse, and she heard the second time in that day something breaking.

God!

Abraham—Abraham wasn’t going to like this.

Not one bit.

When another high-pitched scream followed the shattering clatters, Amanda jolted inside, right after Sasha. Amanda heard Rosita’s shouts from insides as they ran in the corridor.

Inside the living room, Eugene was sprawled out on the hardwood floor, his nose and lips bleeding, one eye already closed with the punches he’d taken, already half-unconscious as mounted over the quirky man, Abraham Ford were strangling him.

Noah and his gang were watching with a frightened stupor at the corner as Rosita was trying to get Abraham away from Eugene. It was no use, the petite woman would’ve had more effect on a stone than the sturdy, unyielding form of the former sergeant.

Catching the muscled arms of the man, Amanda held Abraham from behind next to Rosita, trying to drag him off of Eugene, lifting her head towards the door, looking for Rick.

He was still standing at the door, glaring at Eugene with that stark, dour expression over his face, his eyes curt like frustrated gemstones in fury.

Amanda realized then even though he wasn’t attacking Eugene, Rick was as angry as Abraham.

“Rick!” she shouted, holding his gaze, and they shared a glance for a split second, her hands still trying to get the big man away, wishing for her damn gun instead.

Amanda didn’t do this stuff like this. This wasn’t her style. She didn’t make direct contact like this. “RICK—!” she screamed at him, hooking her arms around Abraham’s neck for a choke to hold him back as her eyes held Rick’s.

Stop it!

Amanda didn’t say it out loud, but his eyes on hers, he finally reacted and approaching over them in long quick strides, he drew his gun and smacked Abraham at the back of his neck.

The big man turned limp in their grip then slipping off, he fell on Eugene.

The fake scientist groaned with the weight shift still half-unconscious as Rick tucked back his gun in his waistband under his shirt then turned on his heel and walked out of the house without a word.

Quickly drawing away from the listless men, Amanda followed him outside. “Rick—” she called out to him on the porch before he took down the steps. “Rick!”

He paused on the steps and turned aside to her. Still silently, Rick stared at her as Amanda searched for an answer for her unspoken inquiry. She’d seen that look before, in the woods after Maggie died, Amanda saw it in his eyes when Rick glared at Father Gabriel.

They looked at each other for a few seconds again, both of them not speaking, before Rick shook his head furiously, breaking the silence. “You could’ve died out there for nothing!” he spat angrily, his arm rising in the air.

His eyes were even more glazed now, more cutting with an edge as sharp as a razor, “For nothing!

Amanda didn’t react, just repeated what she’d told him in the woods. “I don’t want any more death, Rick.”

Her voice was firm, so were her eyes, much like his. Holding her gaze, Rick jerked his head towards the house. “Then make sure to keep Ford away from him.”

He didn’t add anything else, just turned and left the house, and he didn’t need to. Amanda understood what he had truly meant. Make sure to keep Abraham away, because the next time Rick might not stop the man.

 

Notes:

So we're done with this half of the story, yay!
So, no mission whatsoever for D.C, because let's be honest, Euguene would've never ever left the safety of Alexandria to go to D.C. The thing with this subplot that bugged me I couldn't understand why Eugene didn't want to go to D.C after the church, really, it made no sense as it was also his game plan, right? He wanted to go to D.C, to find a place safe. They didn't have any place then yet, so why he confessed...Eugene is much smarter than that, would have prepared a plan how to handle Abraham when they arrive in D.C, really. But when they found Alexandria, things changed, so to speak. So he confessed. Besides, I never intended to make Amanda leave, too, much like how I didn't want Carl to run back to the prison. It would disturb the whole story's theme, as this book is more than anything a family drama, ie. soap opera in ZA, lol. So no big missions or crazy action stuff until the end, of course.

The points Carol made in this chapter are going to play a lot for the second part of the story, and her parts will increase too, hehe. I like Carol trying to keep Rick 'tamed' by using Amanda, as the tabs are turned on, and Amanda finds herself facing the same situation with Joan. That was one of my main aims, too. But really, a man like Rick in ZA, oh boy, there would be some competition among women to 'catch' him, lol.

Anyways, I'm taking a break, focusing on writing the last part of the story and planing the next book. My ideas have started finalizing on how to start the next book and unfold the plot to Negan, and then we'll see. I need to be very careful how to handle such a big plot, without turning it into a Game of Thrones-style epic drama of treachery, treason, and survival tale, lol. (I might even take down A Better World and use its plotlines, though it's not certain)
I'm not sure when I will come back and start updating again, depends on my writing schedule and...level of boredom, hehe, but reviews always help!
Until then. Take care, and be well.

Chapter 26: 'We can't risk it'

Summary:

Both Amanda and Rick try to deal with the aftermath of their breakup. Amanda has got another session with Denise while Rick has got different talks.

Notes:

Surprise! Writing is going rather well, better than I was planning, almost finished the keystone I was trying to get to, so here I am--starting posting again. Enjoy :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

She ducked dodging from Nicholas’s fist as Aiden advanced on her from her left side. Amanda retreated, but behind her, there were the boxing ring’s ropes, so she couldn’t slip there unless she wanted to get herself cornered.

Fuck it! If she was cornered, she was done.

Her eyes darted at Aiden quickly before she realized the only direction she could take now was below. Both men were bigger and stronger than her, but Amanda was sleeker and faster.

If she wanted to win, she had to use her skills to her best advantage. Only five-five inches and one hundred-five or so pounds, it’d become quickly obvious to her during her training she had to play on her speed and agility if she wanted to overcome her opponents. Her fighting strategy was always on the defense to preserve her strength, eluding any direct attack until her opponent got tired and she became sure the odds were matched.  

Yoga exercises were perfect to keep herself in shape, agile, and maintain endurance that was necessary to follow such a strategy, and her training for self-defense and hand-to-hand combat taught her the rest. But despite them, if she had to be honest with herself, Amanda had always relied on the protection that her uniform and her badge provided more than anything else.

The fact that she could loiter a fight more than a half of hour was good, the fact that she could flip in the air and mount over a big-muscled man on the shoulders and choke him with her thighs was even better, but none of them could give her the power of the uniform and the badge that she used to wear every day.

No more.

Please, ma’am, don’t let them do it.

Her begging words to Dawn skated briefly in her mind, but Amanda silenced them like everything else. There was no such power left in the world anymore. Her badge was lost, her uniform had turned to tatters, and the only thing that had left to her was her wit, her spirit, and her will. Herself. Like always.

She still had herself, like always.

And Amanda had to learn how to take down two or more people in a fight at once because things were never fair anymore. People didn’t attack you playing fair, taking turns. The night in the woods flashed before her eyes, the way they’d taken her down, three men, three men holding her, forcing her to watch Beth—her hand nailed down, Carl behind her, their belts unbuckling, jeans lowering down over their hips, the filthy hands groping them, sinister voices taunting them as Amanda watched all of it helplessly.

Never.

Never again.

Her eyes darted below again, and she dropped in a crouch and swept herself on the ring’s matted floor between their feet. She was sleeker, faster, and more agile, and she had to use her abilities to her advantage!

Before they could understand what happened, Amanda quickly raised to her feet. She wasn’t going to stand down and watch it! No. Never. She was going to attack! Make them regret, make them suffer!

Her blood boiling, she let out a seething hiss between her teeth, eyeing them with narrowed eyes. She was so fed up with it!

Aiden’s eyes furrowed in the same way, gazing at her, and pulling back, he quickly advanced on her again as Nicholas came forth from her other side.

Amanda didn’t wait this time. Putting one foot over another, she shifted in the attack position from the defense, and quickly closed the distance between Aiden and herself, eyeing his calf. Amanda was sleeker and quicker on the ground, her grappling techniques on the mat were the best with her agility. She needed Aiden on the ground. She kicked the side of Aiden’s knee at the same time Nicholas tried a fist from her other open side.

Twisting aside quickly, Amanda caught it in the air as Aiden dropped on one knee with the force of her assault, letting out an angry, painful hiss. Her stretched right arm was still up in the air, almost trembling with the force she exerted as she held Nicholas at his wrist, but her lips quirked up hearing the sound. Nicholas fought against her grip, but tightening her core muscles, Amanda fought back for the dominance, not letting him go, instead spun herself aside further towards Aiden and kicked the bent down man again.

Aiden flew over the ring’s floor as her feet staggered. She distanced herself from Nicholas more than she was supposed to, and the strained muscles in her arm started shaking worse before she lost her grip.

Nicholas quickly came back at her. Amanda turned towards him to block his attack, leaving her left side completely defenseless. Aiden didn’t forgive her mistake.

He quickly pulled up to his feet and a second later pain erupted at her left side. She swayed back a few feet just before Nicholas kneed her at her abdomen too.

“ARGGH!” She shouted with pain, her body losing the momentum sweeping off further backward, all her defenses opening, leaving her vulnerable for the attacks.

And attack her, they did.

They came on her at the same time with another set of kicks and knees as Amanda got cornered at the ropes. She slouched her shoulders and raised her forearms over her face quickly for protection, but there was no way she could escape from the situation she’d put herself in.

The fists rained on her sides as Amanda hollered out with pain and anger— “Hey—hey, Nicholas—stop!” she heard Aiden’s agitated voice raising before it yelled, “STOP!”

The beating stopped as Amanda raised her head over between her arms and saw Aiden pulling Nicholas back from her. He pushed the younger man to the other side, his arm raised threateningly. “Stay there, Nick!”

Amanda almost started laughing. She bowed her head, shaking it, all her body on fire with pain. She wondered how many bruises she was going to have this time. Her body was covered with bruises now since last week. Since she had started training with Aiden and Nicholas. Since Abraham had almost killed Eugene. Since Rick had almost let him.

She shook her head again, chasing away the thought. She wasn’t going to think about him! She was not!

“Hey—you ‘kay?” Aiden asked, coming closer to her.

She bobbed her head briefly without raising it. “Yeah.” Her hands went to her abdomen. “I shouldn’t have opened my defenses like that.”

“You got angry,” Aiden simply stated. Amanda looked up at him. Aiden sighed deeply. “Amanda—” he started, “When you said we should train together, I thought we were going to…well, train together.”

Amanda frowned. “We do—” she forced out the words, holding her stomach.

“No—” Aiden countered. “We come upon the ring every day and kick your ass.” A frown appeared over his brows too as his eyes flicked over Nicholas, who stayed in his corner where Aiden had pushed him over, letting out laboring breaths. “Are you trying to make up to Nicholas because you kicked his ass or something?”

Amanda stared at the man, then saw his lips quirk up with a small smile.

“Oh, shut up—” She shook her head, turning aside to walk away. She went over the other corner and picked up the sweatshirt she’d taken off before they started training and put it on over her tank top.

The motions made her cringe as she raised her arms. Aiden gave her another inquiring look. Amanda ignored it, turning aside from him further. “Did you talk with Sergeant Ford?” Aiden questioned.

Amanda shook her head. She had tried, but he’d refused. Abraham had been refusing to do anything other than drinking since last week, since Deanna let him go from the basement.

After the news had reached to the town’s leader, that Eugene had lied about the cure, that he was nothing but a quirky high school chemist teacher, that he finally confessed after deciding that he didn’t want to lose Alexandria’s safety net, that he’d lied out of necessity to make Abraham protect him, that Abraham had almost killed him, Deanna restricted Eugene to the town and sent Abraham to the basement of one of the empty houses which were used as a detention center.

There were bars over the windows in the basement, the room only covered with plaster, the house undecorated, only four walls and a roof. Aiden had explained it was one of the houses still hadn’t sold out before the outbreak so it was bare, and Deanna had decided it could be their detention cell.

Amanda had also realized after Abraham spent two days in the basement that she’d skipped herself the same treatment barely, very barely. Possibly with Rick’s involvement.

She didn’t say anything, of course. She’d barely talked to Rick in the last weeks as he kept ignoring her. Amanda knew she shouldn’t be bitter. That was what she had wanted. Keeping away from each other. Rick was only doing her wish now. But—but—

No buts!

She almost screamed at herself. There were no buts now.

They were done. Broke up. Rick didn’t need to be friendly with her anymore. She wanted this. She had prepared her bed and had to lie in it now. It was better for everyone. They were wrong for each other, only made each other worse. They—

She stopped the thoughts again. Second-guessing herself wasn’t her style. She did what she had to. This was how things were supposed to. She should’ve known better. Never even tried in the first place, never kid herself.

“No, not yet.” Amanda let out a small sigh, answering Aiden. “I don’t think he’s ready yet.”

Deanna had let Abraham go out of the basement after Glenn had vouched for him, something Rick also hadn’t done, either. Deanna had conceded after Glenn’s involvement, and the former sergeant had been sent to Denise like Amanda. Abraham had played along, but to Deanna’s dissatisfaction, barely sober. Amanda couldn’t remember the man sober even for a second since last week.

Abraham’s current condition messed up with her schedule with the training even worse. She still couldn’t do it by herself. She’d retreated from her shifts on the watches and lookouts and started with the classes with the teenagers after midday, leaving mornings to her, to prepare the planning for the classes and to train with Beth, Aiden, and Nicholas.

Quickly Amanda had developed a routine. She woke up early in the morning and went on an easy run with Beth as Rick did his morning patrols. Again, they ignored each other; Rick walking around the wall clockwise while Beth and she ran on the track, and while Rick ran after his chores, Amanda returned to her own house for a quick shower. She still had breakfast in the other house in the mornings as Rick didn’t return home, playing with Judith a little, checking on Mika before she and Beth usually left again for a workout in the gym.

Sometimes Carl joined them, too, sometimes even Ron and Clarice. Those times were still a bit awkward as the teenagers were still brittle with each other, especially after Carl and Clarice went public. Amanda had seen the teenagers walking hand-to-hand in the town a couple of times.

Ron seemed like taking the worst of it, even though he was with Beth. Amanda had excused herself from all the teenage drama, and Beth seemed like she didn’t mind. No. All focused on her training, Beth didn’t even look like she noticed where her…boyfriend’s attention had shifted.

Amanda wondered if she cared at all. It was something they should deal with, too, but later, so Amanda just trained the teenagers to gain muscle strength and endurance in the mornings and at the boot camp in the afternoon classes. After they left, Aiden and Nicholas joined her, and they went up to the boxing ring together for an hour before Amanda started with her afternoon classes.

She prepared four different classes so far, six-person and two hours for each class, rotating the classes every two days. At nights, she became so spent, she lay in the low bed in the attic with her kitten and waited until her exhausted body dozed off in the dark.

Despite all her running errands, though, she still couldn’t have managed to start the class even for half of the town. Much like she’d already suspected, she simply didn’t have enough time or energy to do the task singlehandedly.

There was still the advanced course for the people they would pick up for the teams, and range lessons, knife exercises, then self-defense and hand-to-hand combat classes. She needed help. More precisely, she needed Abraham.

Rick was deep in his stuff, and Amanda wasn’t sure if they were ready to interact with each other. She knew their ‘ignore each other’ phase shouldn’t go on like this forever, but Amanda didn’t want to deal with it right now. She wasn’t ready to play professionals with Rick again. Ignoring each other at least was easier.

She wondered if Rick felt the same too. She supposed he did. He withdrew to himself whenever things became too much for him, and he was possibly keeping his distance because he couldn’t play professionals or friends with her the same. Amanda stopped herself again. She shouldn’t wonder about these kinds of things either. She just shouldn’t. These musings…wondering wasn’t making things easier.

Nevertheless, she had thought of Rick for shooting and gun safety lessons, and she guessed he could still do it after she was finished, but for the classes Amanda still needed Abraham. Daryl could take a bit of workload from her, but she wasn’t sure if Daryl could be a good instructor in this instance.

The woods were his turf, but Daryl’s skills mostly were coming from his rough upbringing. Amanda didn’t want any loose cannons in her hands, getting over their heads. No. It was too risky. The townspeople were already a lot to handle. For proper training, they also needed proper discipline.

And it was why it had to be Abraham.

If only the former sergeant hadn’t given up all his hope, trying to bury his desperation in alcohol. Sometimes Amanda wanted to do it, too, wanted to numb herself with booze, wanted not to feel anything at all, but that was quitting, too.

And Amanda never quit.

They were going to make it. Find a common ground. She just didn’t know how now. But she was going to figure it out.

“I’ll talk to him—” Amanda said, reaching to her canteen and took a sip from her water. Aiden nodded as Amanda jumped down from the ring and started walking out of the community center.

It was already noon, but she must have an hour or so to herself before she went to Denise.

This afternoon she was going to start a new class. Giving the teenagers an off-day, Amanda had decided to see how the women of the town were fairing. She wasn’t going to make them roll in the obstacle course, but knife lessons on how to deal with walkers would be good to assess their standing points. She hoped they at least knew how to hold a hunting knife, but after what she’d seen from the teenagers, Amanda didn’t raise her hopes a lot.

She walked to the house, not to her own house, but to the other house to check on Carol and Joan. During the day, Rick kept himself from the house, too, so the days were easier. After his shifts at night, he returned, standing out on the porch like usual, so Amanda passed nights in the attic, not wanting any accompany at downstairs too.

Their house was as silent as a graveyard in nights, no one talking anymore, Abraham just drinking silently. They’d moved out Eugene to the garage, fearing Abraham would lose it again seeing him. Eugene had barely left the place too since last week.

Everything was a mess since last week. Everything. Amanda told herself it was going to pass, they were going to adjust again, they just needed time. She had to believe that. She had to! Wake up in the morning, fight the undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep with two eyes open, rinse and repeat.

Rinse and repeat—

Amanda swallowed, chasing off those words too, trying not to think how she’d been doing rinse and repeat every single day since last week. Her routine. Amanda had always liked her routines, felt comfortable doing them, felt secure, but now something felt different. The easy comfort was still there, but she felt…trapped? She didn’t know, so she just pushed that thought away, too.

Inside the house, Joan had arrived from the infirmary and was sitting with Carol. They were alone with the kids, but Joan was preparing her bag, so she was going out with Daryl.

Joan and Daryl seemed like doing rinse and repeat, too; Joan still waiting for Daryl to act, and Daryl still not making a move. Amanda wondered if he ever would, and what Joan would do if he didn’t. Carol was spying on her hawkish like always as she sat down with Judith and Mika.

Not knowing anything else to do, after another nightmarish week, Amanda had brought Mika to Denise two days ago after her last appointment. She’d waited Mika to object, like each person who had sent off to Denise, but the little girl had only bobbed her head meekly.

Her reaction had even worried Amanda worse, but since then she looked okay, but Amanda knew damn well how appearances could be deceiving. From outside, she knew she must still look cool and collected, but inside Amanda felt as fractured as broken glass.

The word resonated inside her. Broken. She was broken. Fractured, damaged goods. Dutifully, Amanda did what she always did for the thoughts she didn’t like; she dispelled them off her mind.

She loitered around for an hour, playing with the kids, coloring a book with Judith before she went to Denise.

“How’re you feeling today?” the therapist asked her usual question as Amanda settled down in front of her.

“Fine. Thanks—” she answered demurely in the same way, too, but then added, almost absently, because she felt she needed to—she needed to say something.

There were so many things left unsaid in her, so many things she didn’t even know how to name. “I start a new class today.” A small smirk appeared over her lips automatically pulling her closed lips. “You’ll be in it, too.”

Denise reflected on it. “I know—” she replied gently. “Deanna told me. I have to confess I’m a bit…anxious. I’ve never been trained that way.”

“It’s okay—” Amanda replied with a nod. “We’ll take it slow. I’ll only show you how to swing a blade and so first.”

“No crawling in the mud for us?” Denise asked jokingly.

Her lips stretching further, Amanda shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

“Well, I’m kinda…disappointed.”

Amanda smiled more in response, and this time it felt a bit more genuine. She was here by her decision, she told herself. She’d told Denise she would come if she made Aiden, Nicholas and she all sat down together, and Denise had held her promise. Aiden’s talk, opening up to her about their teammate had helped, and Amanda’s admission that she’d been a bitch, but in the end, Denise brought them together until they decided to work out in the boxing gym every day for an hour.

“When Mika came two days ago, we talked about Lizzie,” Denise suddenly declared.

Amanda stopped even breathing for a second and stared at the wall as her insides turned to ice even worse at the mention of the name. “What you had to live through…it’s terrible,” the therapist went on as Amanda felt her eyes on her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Talk about Lizzie?

Swallowing, still staring at the wall, Amanda shook her head. “No. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda saw the woman nodding slowly. “I see. Okay. We can go back to it later.” Amanda almost told her she never ever wanted to talk about Lizzie, never, but before she said it out loud, Denise inquired. “How’s the breakup going?”

The question broke the ice in her, a flare inciting in her, at her fractured edges. She wondered if it were Deanna, trying to make sure they still would play along after finishing their...thing. “We’re doing fine. We won’t cause any problem if it’s what you’re wondering.”

“No—” Denise declined with the same kind voice. “I was just wondering about you. A breakup is always a messy thing. And in your conditions, still having to see each other every day, work together, it’s even harder. We can talk about it if you want.”

“We’re big people—” Amanda clipped firmly. “We handle it.”

The therapist shook her head with a sigh. “Amanda, it’s okay to feel bad. It’s okay to admit you’re feeling bad.”

Her eyes flaring more, she shot the woman a look. “I know that. Things are hard, and I’m struggling, and I know it is okay—” she intoned strongly before she added, “Struggle is good. The real problem starts when you stop struggling, when you stop trying. When you give up.”

It was just how things were too. How they were supposed to, but Denise shook her head again. “No. It’s okay to stop sometimes, too, give up—” she replied. Amanda shrugged. “Do you fear people would see you as giving up?”

Amanda glared at the woman this time fully. “I don’t give up.”

Never. Amanda Shepherd wasn’t a quitter.

“That’s a remarkable disposition—” Denise commented, “but we’re all human. Sometimes we all give up. Screw up. Fail.”

“Of course, we do,” Amanda objected again. “I’m not saying I’m a sort of superhuman. I screw up. All the time. I’ve screwed up more than I can count.” She paused, shaking her head. “I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want to play with fire.”

The woman hastily scratched something in front of her, and Amanda cursed herself, feeling she was slipping again, but she couldn’t stop the words pouring out of her, as well. “I’ve got responsibilities. We have responsibilities. We can’t risk it.”

“You mean you and Deputy Grimes?”

Her eyes turning on the wall, Amanda shrugged with a nod. “What do you feel you’re risking?” Denise pressed further.

Amanda recalled as Rick hit the vanity table, that savage, wild look in his eyes as he told her they belonged to each other. She…she risked Rick. They shouldn’t play with fire.

“Do you feel you’re out of your box?”

Startled with the question, Amanda turned to the woman. “My box?”

 “Most of the time we seek what we’ve known for all our life,” Denise replied coolly. “Our every emotion, our every decision, our every interaction weave delicate patterns. We call them schemas. Our comfort zones. We feel comfortable in them even when they aren’t good for us, simply because we feel more in control.”

Amanda shrugged, not denying the words. She had created herself a very strict comfort zone, and yes, she’d been very comfortable in it, knowing she was in control. Amanda had never liked uncertainty, always hated surprises, unlabeled things, undefined blurred lines. They made her anxious, that tingling in her insides, just the way she’d felt with Rick in the woods, telling him she didn’t know where she stood with him.

You stand beside me.

“But nothing ventured, nothing gained, Amanda,” the therapist's slow remark cut off her musings.

Amanda let out a sigh, mulling over the words before she accepted, “Yeah, maybe,” she said. “I—I don’t know. It doesn’t feel…right.” She let out another sigh before she finally let it out, too. “Rick wants to protect the woman he is together with, wants to take care of her, pamper her.”

She didn’t know why she was talking now. Maybe she was making a mistake, maybe she…was venturing, maybe she really felt she had to say something, to someone…or else…she was going to lose it. Lose her mind. “It feels wrong.”

“Wrong?” the therapist pushed further, and Amanda had become enough acquainted with counselors to know that the woman was trying to break up her shield, repeating her statements as a question to dive deeper into her physic.

She felt like she was under a microscope again, getting dissected. Her back straightened. “Yeah—” she clipped. “I don’t need it.”

The therapist gave her a small smile again, and asked like usual, “You don’t want him to do it because it feels wrong for you?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Why?”

Amanda shrugged. “I don’t know. I just don’t.”

“Does it make you feel uncomfortable?” Denise questioned before adding, “I understand it’s not what you’re habituated to.”

Then Amanda became sure that the psychologist knew it. She hadn’t mentioned her childhood to the woman, but she’d told it to Aiden. Obviously, it was enough to make the words circle back to the therapist, as it was also the reason why she’d slipped it to Aiden. She’d wanted to see. Wanted to see what Aiden would do with that knowledge.

She almost let out a bitter laugh. “You know it, don’t you?” she asked but it was more of a statement too. “Aiden told you I grew up in foster homes.”

“No—” Denise replied but didn’t deny. “It was Deanna. Aiden told her.” The therapist looked at her carefully, then shook her head with a barely contained sigh that didn’t sound to Amanda professional at all.

Perhaps they just couldn’t do that, either. See each other every day, know each other that close and maintain the mask of professionalism. She was going to teach the woman how to stab a rotting head this late afternoon. How could they play ‘the therapist and client’ in such a world?

The feeling was with her again, the farce of it, the playing house. It was a house of cards, everything, everything they built. It was a damn house of cards. Herself including.

“Don’t look like that, Amanda,” Denise said, her voice holding this time a tiredness. “I’ve come to know you. If you told Aiden about it, you also expected us to know it.” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “Or you wanted to see what Aiden would do.” She squinted more. “You always test people like this? To see who you can trust?”

Amanda’s expression shifted. “Foster homes aren’t kindergarten—” she snapped. “You have to be prepared.”

The therapist gave her another look.

“Oh, come on—” Amanda cried out, springing up to her feet. “You and Deanna have been testing us since we came here!” she spat, turning to the woman. “Making us sit in the interviews like that, asking us questions. Don’t act like you weren’t doing the same!”

Denise shook her head. “There’s no need to get defensive,” the woman replied serenely, without moving an inch at her sudden outburst. “I’m not saying what you did was wrong or bad. I’m just trying to understand you, help you.”

“I don’t need help!”

Another keen, assessing look found her, still serenely eyeing her angry outburst. “Like you don’t need Rick’s help?”

Amanda cursed herself. Trying to calm herself down, understanding she was losing her ground, she sat down. She swallowed, letting all her erratic feelings wash over her, anger the most. Denise simply waited until she settled down.

“We’re not compatible,” Amanda finally remarked after a few long moments. “Rick is a family man. He needs to protect and cherish the woman he is together with. Needs a woman who could support him, stand with him no matter what,” she said before she concluded. “That’s not me. I’m not wife material.”

Denise shook her head, giving her a look, but this time there was a glint inside it, of something Amanda couldn’t decide. “I can’t decide if you’re being vain or pitying yourself right now,” the therapist commented, her voice holding a barely contained laughter, and Amanda understood what she couldn’t name was mirth.

Not professional, Amanda thought again, but shrugged the next second, leaning back in the seat. “I am doing neither. It’s just what I am.”

The mirth evaporated from the woman’s features quickly. “We’re not our jobs, Amanda,” she said firmly. “I thought of you enough smart to make that distinction.”

Was she? Truly?

Amanda had been only two things all her life; a poor orphan girl and a police officer. Between two she knew what she always preferred to be. She shook her head, trying to get her thoughts in order. “It’s better this way,” she said at last after the brief pause. “We can’t risk it.”

“You told it the second time,” Denise observed, her eyes having that inquisitive look again before she asked, “What do you think would happen if you risk it?”

Amanda stared at the woman and waved her hand at the window. “Don’t you see how close we’re to the edge? How do we live? Just the smallest mistake would turn us to one of them!”

Denise regarded her serenely. “Do you think you might be making up excuses for yourself now because you’re afraid to play out of your box?” she asked, her careful eyes searching her for a reaction.

This time Amanda didn’t fall into her trap. She stayed silent. “It’s a very common human behavior when we’re faced with the unknown or uncertain situations,” Denise commented.

Amanda shrugged. “Bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”

“And fortune favors the brave,” the therapist shot back.

“I’ve never been brave.” Neither did she trust her fortune on that matter. “And I don’t gamble on fortune.” She paused, shifting a look at the therapist. “I’m not very lucky.”

“I understand, but one day years later you would think of today and wish you acted differently, wish you let herself—”

Amanda cut the woman, her usual unease finding her worse, and she wanted nothing other than leaving the place now. “If I ever live in this world for years, I would just count myself...lucky.”

 “I understand—” the therapist said again as Amanda stood up.

The talk bothered her the whole day, swirling in her mind, but she pressed it down, like everything else. Perhaps Denise was right; nothing ventured, nothing gained, but Amanda was right too; a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush, given that they could even lose all the birds they had in the end. She remembered their last moment for Eugene and Abraham, how they had a quarrel even without being together anymore.

Nope. They couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. They didn’t come good to each other, only make things worse, running around in a destructive circle. She couldn’t take the risk.

Because, yes, she was afraid. Damn right, she was afraid. Only a fool or the brave wouldn’t have been, and Amanda was neither. She knew Rick wasn’t, either. He could be brave when he had to be, yes, but a fool, he was never.

Her eyes scanned the town after she left Deanna’s house. She saw Rick beside the wall again, working over his bench, still cutting the beams. The watch outpost they’d been building was almost finished, four legs had been planted. They were handling the platform now. This week they were going to finish it, Amanda knew.

Her gaze lingered on him for a few seconds as he was bent over the metal plate, even when she knew she shouldn’t. As if he suddenly felt her stare on him, he raised his head and caught her eyes. A vortex of emotions swirled in her again, and she almost ran in his arms and started crying. She didn’t even know what to say. She didn’t even want to say anything, she just wanted to hold him, be in his arms—and…and let him. Play out of her box.

She was damn afraid. It felt so wrong, so damn wrong, but a part of her still wanted it, despite everything, and Denise’s voice echoed in her, asking if she would wish she acted differently—

I’m trying something different, she remembered herself telling him walking to the church, holding his hand in public the first time. The memory brought a warmness in her, Rick fretting over her, scared if she’d been bitten because she’d held his hand.

Amanda looked at him, a smile almost lifting her lips upwards, the way Rick had frantically started checking her neck for scratches. Rick’s eyes across her this time narrowed with suspicion as he eyed her, Amanda picked it up even across the distance between them, then his mouth turning down in a scowl, he bowed his head and continued his job.

Amanda swallowed hard as if another door closed on in her face again, her eyes prickling. The rest of the afternoon passed in a hazy blur as she went on chores and the classes.

She recognized Olivia from the first class, Jessie and Maria from the second, and Denise from the third. The fourth and last one was attained by Deanna herself, which had become popular when the curious watchers circled them over the field, wanting to see how their leader swung a battle ax.

Amanda admitted the woman was a sight to behold when she was holding an ax. They joked about it and it felt a bit nice, the sun setting down. Amanda almost looked for Abraham and talked to him, but she was tired. Too damn tired, and she wanted nothing else to go back to the house and finish the day.

Beth dropped by the house for dinner like they usually did; Amanda going to them for breakfast, and Beth coming to her for dinner. The teenager gave her a big kiss on the cheek before she left with Ron. Amanda didn’t ask where they were going. She just made sure they had enough condoms.

They tidied up the kitchen with Sasha and Bob, Rosita bringing dinner to Eugene in the garage. Noah and the rest of his gang left for a night shift at the watch. Amanda went out to the porch for a couple of moments to leave Sasha and Bob alone in the living room. Abraham was sulking, drinking at some corner, Rosita was still with Eugene.

At that time, Rick just returned to his own house. He was walking in the driveway slowly, his head bowed, his hands stuffed into his pockets. During the day, he usually marched or swaggered in the town purposely as if he was already late for some chores. He kept running around the town the whole day, running from one thing to another, not giving himself even a moment of reprise, much like Amanda had been doing, she wasn’t stupid. She’d noticed.

But now, he was walking slowly, tiredly, his shoulders sagged as if he was supporting the whole world’s weight on his shoulders. Her heart ached as she looked at him, her throat tightening. Sensing her gaze on him again, Rick stopped and turning to her, looked back at her.

“Hey—” she called out to him, gulping through a lump over her throat. They couldn’t risk it. They couldn’t do it, but they were still…friends. Barely talking.

“Hey.”

He stared at her further and Amanda waited for something to happen—someone losing their shit or even the damn rotters attack, something—anything, so they couldn’t look at each other like this. Like two strangers.

Rick tipped his head at her before letting a small, subsided sigh, and started walking in. Her eyes welling, Amanda turned and stalked back in her house too, but directly went up to the attic after picking up Cinnamon from the kitchen. She didn’t want to see anyone else tonight.

Dropping her kitten on her pillows beside the door, she quickly walked into the low bed they’d found in the house and slipped in it after changing her clothes without even a shower. She didn’t want to think about what she’d been wearing since last week, the basic white tee and blue boxer shorts. The shirt still had his faint scent because Amanda hadn’t washed it yet.

The attic was bare, scarcely decorated. Rick had managed to make the other attic a real room for Carl, but Amanda didn’t bother herself with it. Whatever…roomy stuff she had was Beth’s doing, like the small round table beside the window and the flowers in a vase on it.

Beth made sure every day she had a fresh flower in the vase. There was a small blue rug over the hardwood floor too, and a tall but narrow closet, but nothing else. Amanda didn’t mind. She was okay even with a bed and pillow. The most beautiful part of the attic was the window on the ceiling, and Amanda gazed at it as she lay in the bed, like she usually did in the nights now before sleep claimed her.

Stars were slowly becoming visible in the night air, the moon was a half crescent. As she watched the night sky, the feeling found her again, another wish…not even before she aged. If Rick were beside her now, he would take her in his arms. They would watch the stars together. Or they would read a book, her fingertips mapping his skin lazily, feeling the texture of his silky hairy chest, trailing a line down his navel. How good it had felt, the mundane gesture, simply caressing someone. Funny it was, those moments were what she had missed the most—even more than sex.

This is us—Rick’s words slowly whispered in her ear in the silence, and Amanda touched her necklace, feeling it against her fingertips. He was suddenly above her, inside her then, looking at her in that way as he moved in her, so close, so open. I want us to be like this each night, each morning.

 Amanda let out a tightened sob, caught in her throat as her tears threatened to break.

Another scene came at her. They were all sitting on the couch, watching Home Alone on TV, Rick’s hand slowly going up over the couch to covertly play at the nape of her neck as Amanda slightly twisted towards him.

If they were together, they would even watch a movie, lying in each other’s arms. Perhaps another Harry Potter or Amanda would tell him what happened in the other books. They would make love then, slowly, gently, nothing between them—

She shook her head, the thought sobering her. No. No. They couldn’t. They couldn’t risk it. Even Rick must have felt the same. He was angry at first, but he’d seen it at the end. Admitted it.

He never even came after their fight again, just let her go. Just like Michael had done. Amanda was bad news. Damaged goods. She always knew. They also knew. So, they let her go. It was better this way. Rick fancied her, but he realized too they were a lost cause. A lost battle.

It was hurting now, but it was going to pass. She knew it did. She just had to suck it up now, like she always did.

Rolling on her right side towards the door, Amanda pulled up her legs to her chest as Cinnamon jumped on the bed beside her as if sensing her distress. Closing her eyes, her hand finding her kitten’s silky fur, Amanda forced herself to sleep.

# # #

Rick woke up from his restless sleep with a pounding head, jolting up to awareness, looking at the door. His heart was galloping in his chest, his blood drumming in his ears loudly, all his senses alert. He’d been sleeping even less than usual nowadays, his sleep turning more reckless whenever he closed his eyes.

But it was something, this time he felt something else as he listened to the silence. The room was still gloomy, the sun hadn’t broken yet. Rick swung his feet over the bed’s edge and let the chill of the morning hit him. Raising from the bed, he checked the mini crib and saw Judith still sleeping.

Her baby girl had an uneasy night, but after easing her to sleep in the bed, Rick had left her in the mini crib. She woke up twice after that, but then fell into a deep slumber, tired, at least. Making sure everything was okay with Judy, Rick silently padded to the floor-length window and checked outside, the drapes pulled aside like he always left them open for Judith.

His left hand clutched the soft fabric as his gaze ran over the deserted town in the gloom before the dawn. No one was out aside from the watches at the gate. Twisting to left, Rick could peek over to the entrance, and he saw the two men atop of the platform.

The tingling was still in him, his temples throbbing, even though his heartbeat had slowed down. Alone, dropping the appearances that Rick had been trying to keep up the whole week, his shoulders sagged as he heaved a deep, grave sigh.

His insomnia was getting worse. Rick didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t know how to stop it, either. He felt…lonely. There was still Judith in the room with him, and Carl was just a shout away from him, but Rick still felt alone in a way even worse than after the farm on the road, even worse than after the outbreak.

His eyes slid over to the bed. Rick hated sleeping in it now. It was too big for one person, too damn big. Perhaps they should change the room with Carol and Joan. Without Carl, having this room alone made him feel worse even with Judith. Having the spare bathroom was nice for her baby girl, but the big room felt worse too. Too cold. Like the bed. Too big, too cold, not having any warmth.

Rick eyed the bed again, and before he could stop himself, his mind swirled back to those scarce times Amanda had slept there in his arms. He shouldn’t think of those times now, shouldn’t think of how they made him feel, shouldn’t put salt on his wounds more.

He still had a lot of responsibilities, had to do his…stuff. Amanda had made her choice. She wanted him to stay away from her. She’d made it very clear too, even had moved out of the house. His eyes flickering to outside, Rick eyed the other house, the attic.

He wasn’t going to force his unwanted company on her. He wasn’t going to bother her. Rick had no idea what she wanted, the way she acted that night on the deck before Abraham lost it still didn’t make sense to him, but Rick was tired of it. Tired of trying to make sense of her, tired of trying to make her see it. Tired of seeing her looking at him like that.

Even with Abraham and Eugene, they had managed to have a moment, her staring at him with those narrowed eyes, distrustful, wary. He kept to himself the whole week, keeping his distance. It still hurt too much, cutting too deep. Are you going to force yourself on me?

The anger flared in him again, the hurt fueling it, as she clipped at him forcefully in his mind. I don’t want any more death, Rick—as if—as if Rick would have turned into a damn serial killer and started a massacre in any minute!

Eugene deserved what he’d gotten!

Rick knew it! Knew it was a farce but knowing that they’d broken up over a damn lie, knowing that she was going to endanger herself, perhaps even die because of a lie, so yeah, Rick almost let Abraham did whatever he damn pleased with the coward asshole. Eugene should’ve been glad that none of them wanted to make things further a mess, and Deanna still wanted to keep the teacher because he would be useful to her.

But Rick was done with the cowards that put his people in danger. The rest was Abraham’s problem now. If the man ever stopped drinking.

The former sergeant’s breakdown was bugging him, especially as he was supposed to help Amanda with the classes. She was left alone to deal with them on her own, and Rick wasn’t liking it. He wanted to do something for her, wanted to go and offer help, take a part of the burden from her at least, but he wasn’t sure how Amanda would feel about it, and he didn’t want to find out.

No. He needed Abraham.

Rick allowed himself another sigh, his eyes turning to the other house again. He needed Abraham to stop acting like a damn drunk and put himself back together. Rick could be the last person on earth who would judge anyone for losing it, he’d had his own time, but they didn’t have time for this.

Not when Amanda had been busting her chops since last week while Abraham happily drunk himself to oblivion. Aside from Beth, and sometimes Carl, too, Rick was also aware she’d started training with Aiden and Nicholas in the mornings, how that had happened, Rick had no idea.

Just one late morning, Rick had seen them leaving the community gym together, and Rick had asked…uh…to Carl what happened afterward, and Carl had said they’d started training together.

Rick didn’t know what to do with it, or the fact that they had been at each other’s throats two weeks ago, but it was a stupid question to ask in their life anymore. Everything happened too fast now. Too damn fast, so, Rick barely kept his temper in check when he started seeing them together circling the grounds each day.

A primal fear rose in him at each time, fearing Amanda might…throw in the towel with them completely and start looking for greener…younger pastures. They were supposed to be on a break, but they still didn’t talk about it. It still felt like they were completely done, Amanda putting him out of her life entirely, much like how she had moved out of the house.

Was he going to watch her being with someone else, too?

Aiden Monroe was circling her like sharks that smelled blood in the water. The man was truly everything that Rick wasn’t. Someone Amanda wouldn’t mind being with causally?

Rick was a forty-year-old unstable emotional wreck with a baby girl and with a teenage boy who gave her hell just because his father wanted to be with her. Aiden Monroe was a handsome thirty or so years old single man who didn’t look like he ever had a single care in the world even after the outbreak. The easiness Amanda was always looking for, the simplicity Rick had failed to provide for her.

Was he really going to watch them together? He knew Aiden wanted her. A man just felt it. Had he already made a move, too?

The thought flared in his mind, a fit of primal anger finding him too, a kind of jealousy he’d never felt before even with Lori and Shane.

When Rick had realized what had happened, long before Lori had confessed, he’d felt angry, he’d felt jealous, but he had understood. He’d never questioned Lori’s feelings. Things had become bad between them over the years, but Rick still knew they loved each other. Perhaps they’d been falling out of love, but the love they had for each other was still there. Lori was in grief, wanted to have someone to lean on when the world she knew fell apart and she stayed alone with Carl. Rick knew his wife. Lori had never been good at dealing with fear, uncertainty, and loneliness. Shane had been there, so it happened, Rick got it.

As the moment Rick returned, Lori made her decision. She still wanted him. Amanda simply didn’t.

She didn’t feel like they belonged to each other, not like Rick felt. She didn’t want to be with him. She didn’t even want to stay in the same damn house with him, breathe the same damn air.

Rick put his forehead on the cold glass, trying to calm down his strong jealousy. He had no rights anymore. Amanda didn’t want him. He just needed to accept it.

The sky slowly lightened as Rick watched outside. Using the bathroom, he changed into his jeans and his shirt and left the room. He was getting cooped up in the house. He needed to go out. Take a breath. Slowly, he trekked towards the raised platform that led to the trap door and climbed the ladder.

Rick made sure Carl’s door stayed unopened all the time. Clarice had started passing a lot of time inside with Carl, but it wasn’t the reason why Rick had asked the door to stay unlocked. Things happened so fast. They were never safe. He didn’t want to deal with a locked door if something happened and Rick had to reach to his son.

Carl had made a fuss first, but after seeing his reason when Rick promised he would never enter without knocking first, he acceded too. Rick knocked on the trap door before he pushed it up over his head.

“Dad—” Carl called out from the bed sleepily as Rick pushed himself out of the room. “Is everything okay?”

Rick nodded, his eyes briefly turning towards the floor-length window. Their houses' facades were facing each other. From his left side, Rick could see the other attic in clear sight. The drapes over her windows were closed, but his eyes still lingered before Rick reminded himself what he’d thought. He had no rights.

“I gotta go out—” he said, turning back to his son. “Can you go to the bedroom to Judy?”

“It’s barely dawn, Dad—” Carl replied, eyeing him carefully. Carl usually came down after the dawn, slipped in the bed as Rick took a shower before he left for his morning patrol.

The long morning patrols settled him more, but it wasn’t the only reason why Rick had been keeping away from the house in the mornings. If he returned after the patrol, Amanda would stay away, so Rick stayed outside. He didn’t want her to distance herself further from the kids and Beth, so he loitered outside before she came back with Beth from their morning exercise for breakfast.

Yet, it was still too early for that, so Carl was still looking at him with that look. “I gotta go out—” Rick repeated as Carl pulled up to his feet.

Carl nodded, suppressing a yawn. Rick turned aside to climb down before Carl called out to him. “Dad—” Rick looked at his son over his shoulder. “Amanda and you. Uh…you didn’t break up because of me, right?”

Rick turned fully to face his son. When Carl had learned about them, he had stayed quiet, leaving whatever he felt inside, much like Rick did. It was the first time Carl had finally asked him about their breakup, and it pained Rick even worse. “Y-you fought because of me,” Carl said, bowing his head. “I asked you if she was going to D.C and you got mad at her—”

“Carl, no—” Rick stopped his son before he blamed himself further. “We didn’t break up because of you. Whatever happened between us, it’s nothing to do with you, son,” he went on. “It’s about us. And whatever happens between us, it won’t change anything between you, your sister, and Amanda.”

Rick hoped it was the truth, but he also knew it was wishful thinking. Amanda was moving on with her life. “She told me before she cares about us, not because of you—” Carl slowly said, hugging his legs that he had pulled up over his chest.

Rick nodded, and fiercely hoped Amanda wasn’t going to pull herself away from his kids, even though he knew it was selfish to ask that from her now. With a last look, Rick turned and started going down again but Carl stopped him. “Dad, is she going to come back?”

 Rick looked at his son, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Carl.”

His answer angered the teenager. “Don’t let her go, Dad!” he protested heatedly, jerking up from the bed and marched to him. “You have to do something. Bring her back!”

The words pierced him in the chest. Rick put his hand on his son’s shoulder when Carl stopped in front of him. “Carl, no—” Rick said. “She made her decision. We have to respect her wish now.”

Carl shook his head vehemently. “But—”

“Carl, no—” Rick repeated, cutting him off. “Please, son.”

Carl bowed his head as Rick climbed down out of the attic. He left the house after he quickly threw his mouth a few biscuits in the kitchen, his feet still halting beside the driveway despite his resolution not to bother her.

His neck craned up, Carl’s words still turning in his mind, Rick eyed the attic, and almost barged inside the house and found her, to beg her to come back, to tell her that wasn’t her life. She didn’t belong there. Even Carl knew it! Wanted her back!

She belonged with them!

The fire was in him again, that primal urge, demanding and possessive. The need in him was as strong as ever, the need to see her, at his side, with him, in his arms. Rick half-closed his eyes, letting the flood wash over him, waiting for it to calm down, his fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly under his bowed head. Then out of the corner of his eyes, Rick picked up a shadow of a figure at his side.

A bent-down figure over the side of the railings in the gloom of the new dawn. Drawing his knife, Rick approached the figure. Inside the house, no one had seen the gun when Rick had used it to knock out Abraham, but outside, even in the early morning, Rick wasn’t going to take the chance.

The figure stirred and lifted his head, and Rick saw the flash of red under the hoodie he wore. Red hair. Big muscles. Drunk eyes.

With an angry hiss, Rick tucked back the knife in his duty belt. “Sergeant Ford!” he greeted the man forcefully through clenched lips as his jaw tightened.

“Deputy Grimes—” Abraham greeted him, raising his hand with the bottle of scotch in salute. “Good morning.”

Rick shot the man an annoyed look, the tolls of last days and the turmoil of his emotions running high. “You need to put your shit back together,” he told the man firmly. “This’s not the end of the world.”

“Oh, but it is—” the former sergeant countered. “Have you missed the memo?”

“Abraham—” Rick started, toning his voice into a firm sternness but still keeping emphatic. Rick got it. Understood him. “I was there like you too —” he continued. “But you need to keep going.”

“Keep going for what?” the man questioned him, taking another big gulp from the drink. Rick wondered from where the man was finding drinks. Rick had made sure to store them under lock.

“There’s still people that need you—”

Abraham shook his head. “No one needs me. I don’t care about Eugene. Rosita can take care of herself.”

“It doesn’t mean she still doesn’t need you—” Rick replied. He wished he could make Amanda see it, too. Make her see it wasn’t a weakness admitting that you needed someone. “Amanda needs you, too—” Rick continued as the sergeant gave him an inebriated yet, surprised look.

“She’s started her classes, but she’s alone. There are a lot of people to train. She can’t do it alone.”

Abraham shrugged, taking another gulp. “She should’ve thought about it before she dumped you, Sheriff.”

Rick’s jaw clenched further at the words. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, giving the man a long look in return. Abraham just took another sip from his bottle. “You’ve always been the one she thought of asking help, Abraham,” Rick finally said after their brief, strained silence.

The former soldier let out a snicker. “No wonder she dumped your ass then, huh?”

Rick’s right hand fisted along at his hip, but he kept his temper in check instead of knocking out the man again. Rick wondered that was what the man had been looking for when he eyed his whitening knuckles.

“Deanna only let you out of the basement when Glenn personally vouched for you and I told her you still could be useful to her,” Rick said after then sternly. “So, be useful.”

Rick didn’t need to add that else part. If Abraham wanted to play the hardball, they were going to play it. Rick was getting fed up.

He started making his tour, the sun rising high in the clear sky, but it was cold. October had already finished. The winter was coming. They needed to find seeds ASAP and started planting. Rick had dawdled inside the town too long.

This damn fraud of a mission had ruined everything!

“Sheriff—” Rick heard the name ringing in the cool morning air the second time in a row as he turned aside and face Pete Anderson out on his porch as Rick passed by their house.

They had seldom seen each other again after that day when Rick had caught Beatrice and him at the pond. Once he’d thought of going and talking with Beatrice, but after a quick consideration, Rick decided he didn’t want to get himself tangled with anything of Pete Anderson.

They were both ignoring each other’s existence after that unlucky encounter they had about Judith’s blood test, and Rick wanted to keep it like that.

“I heard Officer Shepherd took my wife in her class yesterday,” the doctor stated slowly, words slurring out as the man approached him on the porch. Much like Abraham, Rick smelled the drunkenness as he eyed the empty tumbler glass in the man’s hand.

The surgeon’s face was flushed, his eyes red. He didn’t look like he had slept at all, too, and Rick was having an idea why. “The course is mandatory—” Rick replied stiffly, giving the man a look. “Everyone will attend. Including you.”

“I don’t need to learn how to kill a dead one,” the drunken man swore. “I’ve got a range championship in college. And I know how to throw punches.”

Rick shrugged, even inside he scowled at the words. “It’s for Officer Shepherd to decide. If she deems you not needing training, you can be excused.”

“What about my wife?”

“What about it?”

“I don’t want it—” the surgeon answered forcefully in a hiss.

Rick shook his head. “She needs to learn how to fight.”

“No, she doesn’t. I can protect her.”

The words made Rick frown outside this time as he wondered if he sounded as dickish as Pete Anderson sounded right now. He told himself it wasn’t the same. Rick wanted to protect her, yes, wanted to take care of her, but Amanda knew how to fight. Jessie Anderson didn’t. It was different, yet, Rick still didn’t like it.

“I’m not saying you can’t—” He tried to soothe down the man. “But she still needs to learn.”

“I said no!” the asshole almost shouted. “My wife isn’t a guard dog.”

The look Rick gave the drunken man should’ve been enough to make him scurry inside his house, but the sonofabitch stayed immobile. “She stays out of it,” he continued, his voice sounding now almost like giving Rick an order.

Rick cocked his head aside. “And Beatrice, too—” the man added, having guts to bring his possible lover into the mix, too. “She doesn’t want to go.”

“Want doesn’t always get—” Rick replied dismissively, stern eyes shooting the man another glare before he turned and continued his patrol.

Rick felt the eyes glaring at his back, too, but he didn’t return.

Notes:

So, here this phase has started, with a lot of misunderstanding and baggage from their past lives, and Amanda getting her ass whooped repeatedly, hehe. Her session here with Denise was one of the reasons why I wanted to write Edge in this way, especially as they discussed not wanting to risk the status quo, being afraid to 'play out of the box'. Emotion wise.

I always felt like this with Rick, too. The reason he could take Shane and Lori in that 'calm' way because he was the chosen one, so to speak. I also thought that was why he reacted that way at the end of the season 2 towards Lori when he realized Lori became scared of him, of the man he became, demonstrating it literally by jerking away from his touch.

Oh my god, I really wanted to make Carl feel bad for their breakup too, blaming himself after giving them hell for their relationship, hehe. It's kinda cute, I think. :)

I'm still not knowing how my updating is gonna be really, but will try to at least keep up a two weeks updating. Like always, please don't hesitate/forget to leave a few words too, as they're great motivators. Ciaociao.

Chapter 27: 'We shouldn't play with fire'

Summary:

Carl's guilt for the breakup brings him closer to Clarice as the former young socialite opens up to Carl about her past, and why her older sister and she are alone in Alexandria. After his last encounter with the town's surgeon Pete Anderson, Rick decides to ask Carol and Amanda's help for dealing with the man, in the meantime also wants to talk with Amanda for something more personal.

Notes:

Hello! Another chapter. I wasn't going to post this until the next week, trying to finish up another chapter, but I came to a sudden weekend holiday to my sister's summer house, and I kinda tried to do a bit of editing on the beach :) Hope I managed. I think I'm gonna be able to post the next chapter too in the next weekend, wrapping up this part, I'd written this chapter, the last one, and the next as a whole big one, heh, then will take another short break to finish the story. Finally! Fingers crosssed.

This chapter is gonna have Carl and Clarice's first real romance, too, and I hope you will like it. I personally find them cute together :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“You have to teach me!” Clarice exclaimed in that pouty tone as Carl sat on his bed with Judith in the attic, his head bowed not looking at her as he merely cleaned his gun. Clarice in return entirely missed or just ignored his mood. Sometimes Carl couldn’t be sure with her.

“Beth said shooting lessons start the next week. I heard your father will teach us.” Carl still didn’t say anything, just kept cleaning the dismounted parts of the gun they’d stole together from the safe house cabin. Clarice went on, pressing further in a firm voice, “You have to show me.”

His…girlfriend had come half of an hour later after his dad had left, leaving him with Judith. Carl had been with his baby sister since then in his room, his head heavy with thoughts as he cleaned his gun.

Guilt. Carl’s head was heavy with this guilt.

His father and Amanda were broken up, she’d even moved out of the house, and the only thing Carl was able to feel was…guilt. He would’ve thought of himself getting relaxed with their breakup, but Carl wasn’t. He’d never liked seeing them together, but since they broke up, Carl didn’t know.

The way his father had been going around the town reminded him after the time they lost his mother, his face bearing that sullen, bleak look once more, cold, withdrawn. Carl didn’t want to see his dad like that. Amanda wasn’t much different, either, as if a light had spent off in her. Carl hated to see it, too, the way her usually clear green eyes dimmed as she looked at them, explaining something in the training field. Beth said it was going to pass, they both would get over it eventually, but the guilt was still with him.

He had caused this. With his tantrums, never-ending problems, and jerkiness, Carl had finally made them break up. His father refused to accept it, but Carl knew. He hadn’t meant his words to start such a big fight when he asked his father if Amanda was going to D.C, but nevertheless, Carl had carried them over to this point.

It was his fault. If he had been a little more in acceptance, less…childish, then none of it would’ve happened. The sticky feeling of shame found him again as Carl remembered the woods, remembered that night.

He ruined everything.

Everything.

Even though he didn’t do anything, he still ruined everything. His hands halting on the magazine he’d been cleaning, his eyes turned over to his baby sister crawling beside his hips on the bed, playing with her stuffed giraffe.

Judy was missing Amanda. She still came every morning, still spent time with his baby sister and Mika, but it wasn’t the same. It was never going to be the same, and it was his fault. Judith’s hazel eyes found him as he gazed at his sister. Sensing his mood, she raised her stuffed toy towards him, “Kaa.”

Carl left the magazine on the floor and took the toy as the same time Clarice called out to him.

“Hey—" Her voice had raised an inch, “Do you even listen to me, Carl?”

Carl turned his head to her, holding the toy. “No.”

Clarice's expression closed off at his simple admission, turning cold, and for a moment or so Carl expected her to storm off out of the attic. She stared at him, honey-mossy green eyes openly regarding him before her expression eased off and she walked to him.

Holding her pleated flared skirt, she sat down on this other side. “Is it about your father and Officer Shepherd?” she asked quietly, and surprised, Carl turned to her.

He thought she hadn't even noticed. He nodded briefly. “Are you sad because of their breakup?” she asked further, extending her stockings-clad legs over the floor.

Carl shrugged, not knowing what to say. He was sad, but he couldn’t say it to anyone. Clarice bowed her head, staying silent for a second before she turned to him. “Do you know why we came here alone?” she asked him.

Carl shook his head. He’d never asked. He knew they’d been here before the outbreak, arriving with their housekeeper, but Carl didn’t know the reason. The way Clarice had asked him made Carl understand that there was a story behind it.

“My mother died giving birth to me,” Clarice told him quietly as his head snapped up at her, suddenly everything making more sense.

Clarice and Beatrice always talked about their Daddy, but never even mentioned once about their mother. It was as if the woman wasn’t there in their life before, and now Carl understood the reason. He’d noticed it before but didn’t want to upset Clarice. Unlike her chatty older sister, his…girlfriend was a little bit testy with nosy questions.

But it made sense now. “Daddy never got married but had girlfriends—” she continued with a shrug. “We never made a fuss with it. They were just his lady friends. We didn’t even interact much. I think he was trying to keep his personal life away from us.” She paused a little, heaving out a deep sigh. “Then Melissa came. I didn’t even understand what happened. We knew he had a new lady friend then a month later she moved in with us at our home in D.C.” Her expression shifted again, getting tenser, clearly saying how she’d felt about it. “I was so mad. Another woman in our house. It felt so wrong.” She had turned to him in the last words, gazing at him, knowing Carl would feel the same. “Did you feel the same with your father?”

Carl nodded slowly. “Yeah. I didn’t like it. They told me I have to accept it even though I don’t like it.”

Clarice let out a bitter laugh. “I guess that’s a parent thing to say. My father basically told me the same too,” she commented with a sigh. Carl held back his own, too. Judith crawled over his leg further. Carl picked her up on his knees and pushed the parts of the gun away in front of him. “Six months later, they decided to get married.”

Carl looked at her, his arms wrapped around his baby sister. “I made a real fuss then. Beatrice was crying every day. She’s been always like this. She hates fighting. Whenever voices start raising, she starts crying. I—uh—my voice—you know—” she sent him almost a sheepish look. “It-it was raising a lot.”

 Carl smiled at her. “Daddy decided to send us out of the town until the wedding was done and they came back from their honeymoon. We came here with Maria.” She shook her head. “Then outbreak happened. We watched it on TV. Daddy called a couple of times, saying he was going to come, but—” she trailed off.

“I’m sorry—” Carl slowly murmured.

Clarice shrugged. “Sometimes I still blame myself,” she confessed with a little voice. “If I didn’t make a fuss, we still would’ve been together.”

Carl shook his head. “The cities are worse. If you were in D.C., perhaps you would’ve been—” he stopped, realizing what he was about to say. Both Clarice and Beatrice held still hope that their father was still alive out there. Suddenly Carl felt that he didn’t want to upset that hope. Upset her.

But Clarice was staring at him now with another look, her honey-green eyes misted. Carl wondered if she was going to cry. Carl would never believe a girl like her could cry. She always seemed so…untouchable. “Do you think he’s dead?” she asked. “Beatrice never lets us talk about it, still says they’re alive. But—but—” she trailed off again, her lips quivering.

Unwrapping his left from left arm from Judith, Carl put it around her shoulder, almost gingerly. They’d kissed, made out, Carl had even touched her breasts under her shirt once, but he’d never held her like this. He’d never held a woman like this. Like his father used to hold his mother or Amanda.

“I don’t know. But you shouldn’t lose hope—” he told her as Clarice scooted over him closer and rested her head on his shoulder.

She nodded on his shoulder as Carl heard something close to a repressed sob from his side. “And you, too—” she replied a few seconds later. “Beatrice always used to say love conquers all. If they really love each other, they’re supposed to get back together.”

“I don’t know—” Carl slowly answered. Was it true? Love really conquered all? Carl knew his father loved his mother, but something was telling him it wasn’t enough in the end. “I-I just want him to be happy again.”

It was a realization Carl had comprehended after he saw his dad during this week, an awareness that had missed him before. He just wanted him to be happy. Carl didn’t know if Amanda made him happy, sometimes he still couldn’t be sure, but his father at least had become better with her, looked more like his father. She had to come back. Even their house felt like it’d lost something after she left.

Clarice raised her eyes at him against his shoulder. “Maybe we should lock them in a room and don’t let them out until they make up?” she asked, her lips curving up a little. Carl understood she was trying to cheer him up, and it felt…nice. Nice to know that she cared. “Saw it in a movie. Beatrice watches it a lot.”

With a smile, Carl shook his head. “No. Wouldn’t work. Both Dad and Amanda know how to pick locks.”

Her head perked up, but this time for different reasons. “She’s gonna teach us too?”

Carl laughed. “Probably.” He shrugged. “We can ask.” Holding Judith tighter at his other side as she tried to crawl away down on the bed, Carl pointed at his gun’s parts on the floor. “Why did you want me to show you how to shoot?” he finally asked.

They were going to show them the next week, probably his father, like Clarice had announced, but she’d been yammering about it since she’d come. Clarice straightened up, drawing away from him with a sigh.

She shrugged. “I don’t want to stand out.”

Carl gave her a look. “There are a lot of people in the town who never touched a gun before—” Carl told her. “You aren’t gonna stand out.”

“But I will!” Clarice protested, shaking her head agitatedly, her soft sympathetic demeanor changing once more. “You and Beth both know how to shoot,” she started counting. “And Ron, too. His father used to bring him to the range before the outbreak. It’s only me who doesn’t know it. I’ll stand out between you!”

Then Carl caught her anxiety. She didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t know how to use a gun between their…quartet.

“We can’t slip out—” Carl said. “I promised Dad—” The words sounded almost strange from him, but Carl didn’t want to cause problems anymore for his dad. He wanted to stay here. Wanted this life. All of them together. His eyes slanted over the window to glance at the attic across his, the sense of loss finding him, understanding that he really wanted her back, not only because of his father or Judy. Carl missed her, too.

Swallowing, Carl returned to Clarice. “And we’re blacklisted with Deanna—” He continued, reminding her. Clarice stayed silent. “I don’t have much ammo, either—” he added, mostly to make her feel a bit better.

But she jerked her head at him snappish, standing up. “Yeah.”

“We can practice dry fire if you want—” Carl offered. “My father is gonna start with that too. Like Amanda did it in the prison. They don’t want to waste ammo.”

Her interest piquing, Clarice returned to him. “Really?”

Carl nodded, standing up too, tugging Judith at his side. “Yeah. You need to get accustomed to the gun, stance, and grip, learn trigger and muzzle control. It’s not usually good for guns, but we can do it.”

With one of her lazy sultry smiles, Clarice nodded. “All right.”

“We find Carol or Beth to leave Judy then we go, ‘kay?”

Her smile dropped. “No. No Beth—” she protested quickly again. “I don’t want her to know.”

Carl sighed but didn’t say anything. The things between them were—well, Carl had no idea what they were anymore. He was dating Clarice, he supposed, even though he never…asked her out, and Carl was aware that Beth was spending a lot of time with Ron.

It didn’t bother him anymore as much as it used to, but that unsettled feeling was still there, and he knew Ron didn’t like him spending time with Clarice either. He could see it in Ron’s eyes. Carl felt glad his feelings were mutual. Beth seemed cool about it, but Carl knew her jealousy had been more directed to Clarice than Ron. She’d broken their garden statues in the end, not Ron’s.

Leaving Judith on the bed, Carl gathered the parts of the guns and reassembled them quickly under Clarice’s careful gaze. Her eyes still on him, he tucked the gun in his waistline under his underneath shirt. He draped his unbuttoned button-up shirt over it for extra measure too to hide the swell of the gun and led her out of the attic, picking up Judith again.

They headed downstairs to look for Carol. Hearing murmurs of talks from the kitchen in the corridor, they directly went towards there instead of checking the living room first.

Carol was in the kitchen, but instead of Beth, she was sitting with Amanda, drinking tea together. Carl wasn’t surprised. She still dropped by every morning after her morning run with Beth. Sometimes if he was around, they also made breakfast together, and Carl was glad, glad to see her still around, but it wasn’t the same.

They looked at each other as he and Clarice stepped inside, and Carl settled down Judith in her highchair. “Morning—” he called out as Amanda stood up and went to Judy.

His baby sister immediately lifted her arms at her, making baby noises. It sounded like a different version of kaa, closer to ‘maa’, but Judith mostly called anyone simply ‘kaa’, ‘maa’ or ‘dada’ nowadays. Carl wondered if it was a shortening of Amanda or mom. The thought should have bothered him, and it still did, but Carl heard her calling Beth and Carol in the same way as well.

Amanda nodded at them, picking up Judith. “Morning.” She pointed the stove with her head, heading back to her seat around the island. “Did Judith eat?”

Carl gave her a nod too. “Yeah. I fed her before Clarice came.”

She settled on the stool, placing Judith on her knees. “There’s some mash left,” she said. “Help yourself.”

Clarice shook her head. “I’m not hungry. Thanks.”

Carol smiled at her. “You can eat it. It’s gluten free—” Carol paused, her smile growing. “You can even take some for your sister. We made it from acorns and dried figs.”

“Acorns?” Clarice asked, her eyes widening.

Carl nodded, going to prepare them two dishes. “Yeah. You smash it first, then grind. It makes a good flour. We made it a lot in the woods.”

“Uh. I think Beatrice might like it, yeah.” Carl carried the dish to her as they settled down.

Amanda turned her look at Clarice, taking a careful sip from her tea, holding Judith on her knees. “I was expecting her yesterday to the class—” she suddenly remarked. “She didn’t come. Is everything okay?”

Clarice shrugged. “She said Maria is going, so she doesn’t need to.”

Carl almost laughed but kept it inside. Somehow it sounded just like Clarice’s sister, but Amanda’s expression soured, her brows pinching as she put down her mug. “The basic survival course is mandatory for all adults.”

It was already decided that every adult and teenager above thirteen was going to attend Amanda’s basic training, including range training, but as far as Carl saw the townspeople at large wasn’t liking the idea. Carl thought they would also start a special course for the children under thirteen as well, but no announcement had been made so far.

Carl wondered how these people would feel with their children with guns. His father had passed that stage now, but Alexandrians had not. Whenever Carl carried his sword inside the walls or went out with his father with his holster attached at his leg, he saw looks directed at him, faces dour, lips turned down.

Clarice made another shrug as she sat beside her around the island when Carl set the acorn and fig mash in front of her. “I know.”

Carl turned to Carol and Amanda. “Clarice will help me a bit in the gym,” he told the women. “I want to work on my…leaps.”

From all the cadets between twelve and eighteen in their classes, Clarice surprisingly became their top student on the obstacle course. Her dancing background made her the fastest and the most agile among them, making him and Beth lose their bet.

Carl suspected that even Amanda was surprised at the effortless way Clarice leaped over every obstacle she had put in the field. “Can you look after Judy?”

Both Carol and Amanda nodded at the same time, as Clarice finishing the mash stood, too. “This was…lovely,” she told the duo after a brief pause. “Thank you.”

They left the house without further talk, then Carl understood they didn’t discuss where they would do it. No one aside from Beth and Clarice knew he had a gun, and Carl wanted to keep it in that way.

“Okay—” He turned to Clarice. “Where do we do it?”

“How about the maintenance building?” Clarice offered, but Carl shook his head.

“No. My father and the construction teams go there to look for supplies—” he opposed. Craning his neck, he surveyed the town. There were a lot of hidden places in Alexandria, but lately, all of them had been swarming with people after his father had started his projects. His eyes wandered over to the massive training field they’d managed to build, then fell on the little greenhouse tucked at the other side.

As the planting hadn’t started yet truly, it was still unoccupied. The white plastic curtains over the glass panels would provide the privacy they needed. “C’mon, let’s go to the greenhouse.”

They made it there in a few minutes, slipping away from the crowds. Inside the greenhouse was still scarcely stashed with the rows of stalls with empty, barren square pots for seeding, no soil inside. The gardening tools and equipment like handbarrows and trolleys were scattered around with little remnant of the fertilizers and soil his father hadn’t still used to prepare the lawns. It had a spooky, eerie air, an ambiance that reminded Carl what they’d lost again despite Alexandria’s abundance.

Ignoring the scene, Carl led them towards the farthest corner from the entrance and took out the gun. It was another Beretta, like his own 92FS, but without the silencer. His silencer had stayed in the prison. The thought brought him back to his mother’s photo, all the other things they’d left behind, but his father was right. They couldn’t go back. They couldn’t look back. This was the life they had now.

The truth then brought him the guilt too, sticky and heavy, catching his throat. Perhaps Clarice was right. Perhaps…love could really conquer all. But did his father really love Amanda? Carl never thought of that before. He inwardly shook his head, chasing the thoughts. Becoming an adult was tiresome. So many questions he didn’t know how to answer.

He released off the magazine, emptying his rounds then put it back and made sure the gun wasn’t loaded, just like how his father and Shane had shown him many times, retracting the slide. When he saw the empty chamber, he racked the slide back into position and lifted his head up to Clarice. “Always check the chamber first.”

Clarice cocked an eyebrow. “Still if the safety is on?”

“You make that sure before you pull the trigger—” Carl responded, placing the gun on a stall in front of them. “Have you ever fired a gun?”

Clarice shook her head.

“A’right,” Carl said. “First thing; stance, but Dad always says as long as you can stabilize yourself before you take a shot, that’s good. There are a couple of different stances, but the key is to keep yourself stabilized, your arm extended in a direct line so you can control the front sight and the muzzle on the target—”

He tapped the front of the gun to show her the mentioned parts while starting to name them. “This’s the front sight, muzzle. This’s the slide and barrel. Safety lever, hammer. Magazine release button.”

Carl tapped for the little button for the last on the side of the magazine, then pointed to the front side of the gun. “To aim, basically you have to lock the front sight on the target and then try to keep it as stabilized as possible and ease off the trigger.” He paused, taking the gun in a basic grip. “So, the grip.”

He turned the side of the gun and showed her. “Hold it with your dominant hand. Your index finger has to be just over the slide, never on the trigger. Then curl your support hand like this, stabilizing your grip. Your other thumb lies on the other side of the slide, the other fingers wrapping each other.” He flicked the gun again to show her better. “It’d keep your wrist, arm and the gun stabilized on a direct line.”

Carl placed the Berretta on the stall before he took up the duct tape that he’d brought with him and walking across two hundred yards away towards another tall stall, he made a middle-sized square with the blue tape target and returned to her. He gestured the gun on the stall with his head. “Pick it up.”

Clarice stared back at him. “Pick it up. You need to get accustomed to the feel of the gun, with its weight. Draw it quickly and aim. It’s the whole point of the dry fire,” he explained further. “Dad’s gonna make y’all repeat this countless times before you ever fire a bullet. Take the gun and aim on the target.” He cocked his head again at the blue square he’d prepared.

Nodding, Clarice gripped the gun the way Carl had instructed—the best she could, and her eyes narrowing aimed. Carl smiled. “Again.”

Without a word, she repeated the sequence. After a dozen tries, her lips started forming a smile. “I think I got the gist of it.”

“Yeah—” Carl replied, getting closer to her back to correct her arm’s alignment. He put his arms on hers, tilting them upwards slightly through the front sight on the target. “Just an inch up.”

Still half in his embrace, Clarice twisted her head to him over her shoulder, her lips now holding a smirk. “Like this?”

“Yeah.”

Their eyes on each other, Carl’s head slowly tilted down as hers craned up and their lips touched…

The door of the greenhouse opened and their heads whipping at the sound, their stretched-out arms still entwined, they both looked at the intruder.

 Ron was standing at the entrance, his posture rigid, his dirty blonde unkempt with the wind. There was a firm expression over his face as he gazed at them, his eyes narrowed. Carl felt his furrowing too, wondering if the older teenager was tailing them. “What’re you doing?” he asked, his eyes following the length of their tangled hands towards the gun. “Where did you find the gun?”

Clarice extracted herself off him, turning towards Ron. “We took it from the armory—” she lied quickly, and once again Carl felt...the unease how effortlessly the words rolled over her tongue, despite being lies. The pestilent thought was with him, wondering if she ever had lied to him, too. Carl didn’t know. He felt her…feelings for him were authentic, but sometimes Carl still wondered.

“I didn’t want to show up like a loser not knowing how to hold a gun in the shooting class—” she went on with the same idle ease, shrugging off her shoulders. “Carl was teaching me.”

There was a pause before Ron walked towards them, closing the entrance. “If Deanna hears this—”

Clarice cut off him, her eyes flashing as she made a face. “Besides us, only you know it,” she snapped. “If you keep your mouth shut, she can’t hear.” Ron’s lips clenched. Clarice handed the gun back to him. “This’s enough for today. Beatrice waits me. We’re gonna do some weird statues again—” she minced the words with an annoyed sigh.

Carl tucked the gun back inside his waistline under his shirt, ignoring Ron’s pointed sour look, and collected the bullets he’d emptied from the magazine. He quickly stuffed them inside his front pocket.

None saying anything further, they left the greenhouse. Outside in the small yard in front of the building, Carl turned aside to check the training field. It was still empty, but he saw his father with one of the construction teams besides the warehouse.

He turned to Clarice. “When you’ll be free?” he asked, ignoring Ron who still waited with them. Carl almost wanted to ask what he was waiting for but kept it inside. “We play the pool?”

“Late afternoon. After the class. We’re the last one today. But I’m bored with the pool. How about Monopoly?”

Both Ron and Carl laughed at that. “Missed owning things, Cler?” Ron asked, his laughter tinting his voice as Carl tried to keep a…twinge in his chest, hearing the words.

Most of the time, Ron called her with the nickname, with an affection Carl didn’t…like. He never did, the short name feeling odd at his tongue. Cler.

 It sounded as weird as hearing Beth calling Amanda, Mandy. For Carl, first she was Officer Shepherd, then she was just Amanda, just like how Clarice was just Clarice. Yet, Beth called her Mandy the same way Ron called Clarice Cler. Carl wondered if Beth called Ron with a nickname too, or Ron was calling her Betsy?

He then wondered where Beth was. Ron didn’t look like…he was wondering. “Five pm then at your place—” Clarice offered, looking both at them.

They both nodded. “I gotta go and see my dad—”

“Okay. See ya later.” Clarice replied, but they both didn’t move. Carl barely held his frown, understanding that they’re waiting for him to leave to…talk.

With a quick glance at Clarice, Carl turned aside. They were still silent behind as Carl walked away from them, feeling their gaze on him too. That twinge inside him was weirdly tugging at his chest, and he wanted to check over his shotlder, to see them—what were they going to talk about?

Carl was…curious.

His feet took a turn to the right. He knew he shouldn’t do it. He knew it was wrong, he knew eavesdropping wasn’t something you should do. His mother if she saw him now would get so mad at him, but Carl still couldn’t help himself. He quickly turned to the greenhouse around the short masonry wall, straying off the path, and found the back door of the greenhouse.

Approaching the front entrance silently, Carl saw them still lingering outside the greenhouse. Carl got closer to one of the plastic covered tall windows.

“This’s ridiculous—” Ron was talking fast, agitated. “Don’t you see what he’s putting you up?” he asked before he continued with the same speed without waiting for an answer. “He first took you out, now this. You stole a gun from the armory?!”

Carl heard an annoying frustration in Clarice’s tone as she answered, “I told you. I asked him.”

“Yeah. Your new lapdog—” he spat.

“He’s my boyfriend, Ron!”

  Carl felt his chest swelled with the words, his lips pulling into a small, hearing the words from her, the easy, the fierce way she uttered them to her…friend. Sometimes Carl wondered about them, too.

“Just look how he is, Cler!” Ron replied heatedly, keeping his fierce tone heated. “Don’t you get scared? Hell, he even scares me! His eyes.”

His smile vanished. “He’s okay. And you need to stop this.” There was a pause. “Aren’t you with Beth?”

“It’s not like that—” came the reply quickly. “I told you it’s not like that. We just hang around.”

“I think you should—”

“She doesn’t even care about me, Cler—”

“I think she does. Look, she’s not that bad—”

“You called her a nutcase!”

“Well, we—uh—all have issues. I’m sent to Denise, she’s not.” There was another pause, and sigh as Carl frowned at the words. It sounded like Clarice wanted Ron and Beth to be together. She never acted like she was bothered about them, but wanting them to be together, well, it was something else.

A part of him wondered if it was because of their relationship before Clarice said with the same tone, “I gotta go. Beatrice really waits for me.”

Another pause and Carl heard a quiet voice, Ron asking, “Is it because of them? Because my father—”

His words were cut as Carl frowned, not understanding what it was about, but understanding it wasn’t something Clarice didn’t want to talk about. “Ron.”

No word followed, just a curt edgy utterance of the name before Carl heard footsteps—Clarice’s heels walking away.

Carl straightened back, leaving the greenhouse too with a frown, trying to make out what he’d heard.

# # #

After the teenagers left the kitchen, Amanda let out a deep sigh, swaying Judith on her knees slowly, her right arm wrapped over her tiny waist. The words were absurd, but somehow Amanda knew it was just the thing Beatrice Reese would do. Sending her housekeeper in her place, so she didn’t need to attend the class.

Goodness.

She wondered if she should go and talk with Deanna and have the town’s leader send them…notices. She would like to talk with Rick, too, but she didn’t want to talk anything about Beatrice with him.

Besides, she couldn’t go to him to demand to deal with her problems. The classes were her responsibility. She could take care of her problems. I don’t need help! The words clanked in her ears. Even Lamson used to bug her for keeping stuff to her chest, not sharing anything, even though he always picked up after her whenever she screwed up.

Remembering her partner made her feel even worse, something throbbing in her chest with loss, feeling the loneliness inside her deeply. The way she’d spent last night came to her, the way she always spent the nights now, sleeping in Rick’s shirt and boxer, forcing herself to sleep in the cold bed in the dark, struggling to hold back her tears.

“How’s it going?” She heard Carol’s emphatic voice through a fogginess in her mind, her eyes staring at the baby girl without seeing it properly, her other hand holding the baby’s smaller one.

Amanda lifted her head and looked at the older woman, Denise’s usual question getting her defense again, but she shrugged the next second. “Fine.”

Carol just looked at her merely. “They’re giving you hell in the classes, aren’t they?”

“It’s okay—” she replied quickly, almost automatically. “I handle it.”

Carol’s eyes were clear to indicate that the older woman was seeing her bullshit, but the next moment she smiled. “Be grateful that you don’t need to listen to them rambling on pasta makers.”

“Pasta maker?” Amanda asked back, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Shelly wants fresh pasta.”

“Ah.”

“Has she come to your classes yet?”

“Not that I’m aware—” Amanda replied, suppressing a sigh.

“Somehow I’m not surprised.”

Amanda gave a small, resigned smile at that. Alexandrians. Running away from her classes but finding time to make fresh pasta. Judith’s rough wheezing sound broke the brief between them. Amanda bowed her head and checked her as the baby girl put the silicone bunny teething ring inside her mouth and rubbed it against her sore gums, her face cramped as she did.

“The poor thing—” Carol mouthed quietly, looking at Judith. The baby girl was cutting her first pair of teeth. And that always was…challenging. Amanda brushed her lips against the baby girl’s forehead to check her fever. There was a slight heat, but it wasn’t too much.

“She didn’t sleep well last night, just kept crying—” Carol went on with that quite emphatic tone. Amanda slid down from her stool and walked to the refrigerator, tucking the baby girl at her hip. “Rick swayed her in his arms the whole night.”

Amanda opened the fridge, wondering if Carol was playing on with her conscience. They hadn’t talked again after their talk when she and Rick broke up. The older woman had admitted then perhaps it was the best Amanda moved out, but something the way Carol had told her about Judith and Rick made her question if the older woman had changed her mind, still wanting her to keep Rick…tamed.

Wordlessly, Amanda took another teething ring she’d stored yesterday and gave it to Judith. Passing the bunny ring under the jet of water, she wrapped it inside a package and put it in the fridge’s cooling unit, feeling grateful for Alexandria’s solar panels again.

The cold soothing her sore gums, Judith hushed down a little bit. Amanda started returning to her stool around the island just as the door outside opened and firm clanks of heavy heels carried over to them from the corridor.

She quickly trotted back to her seat and perched on the edge of the stool, settling Judith on her knees, trying to calm down her flip-flopping stomach. Carol sent her almost a laughing smirk, but she couldn’t muster up any energy to scowl at the older woman because she could recognize those firm clinks of the cowboy boots from anywhere.

Rick. Rick was in the house!

What the fuck!

Why had he come?

It was an…agreement they’d both conceded silently, without ever talking about it. He kept away from the house in the mornings, letting her drop by to pass time with the kids and others.

Amanda bowed her head quickly, hiding her face as Rick walked into the kitchen. “Hey—” he greeted them as Amanda’s eyes stayed fixated at the tip of his cowboy boots, her head still bowed deliberately.

It was already bad last night seeing him in the dark. She couldn’t do this now. They just ignored each other’s existence in daylight, only glancing at each other secretly from afar.

She could feel his eyes on her, could feel his intent gaze on her, but Rick didn’t make any word either. “Are you hungry?” Carol asked politely. “We have acorn and fig mash. We’re commemorating the old days.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, Amanda spied his head shake. “No. I’m okay.” He paused. “I came to talk to Amanda.”

Her head snapped up, startled and she stared, still holding Judith, words not registering to her for a second or so… Talk? He wanted to talk with her?

Her heartbeat hastened worse, racing in her chest as she stared at him bewildered. She tried to hold on to her panic and excitement, but thoughts were ricocheting in her mind like loose bullets, jumping one to another at the speed of light.

“About your class—” Rick went on in a placid tone, clarifying for her as if he sensed her sudden agitated anxiety, his eyes still on hers. “Did Beatrice come to your class yesterday?”

Amanda blinked a few times, every clamor in her mind halting. She knew she heard it correctly, but the words didn’t make any sense. They hadn’t talked in a full sentence for days, and once he came to talk to her, did he question her about that?

About Beatrice.

Her lips flattened into a thin line as her gaze turned to a glare. “No,” she clipped. “She sent her housekeeper in her stead.” Amanda tried not to clench her hands that still held Judith before her voice took a note of a sneer. “Did she send you to convince me that she doesn’t need to attend?”

Rick’s eyes narrowed. “No. She didn’t send me. I saw Pete Anderson.”

“And?” Amanda asked, giving him another stern look.

“He informed me he doesn’t want his wife to attend the class,” Rick bit off, his tone making sure how he felt about that. “He said Beatrice doesn’t want it, either.”

Amanda’s frown deepened but before she could open her mouth, Carol interrupted, “Why Dr. Anderson cares what Beatrice wants?”

“They’re having an affair—” Amanda quickly answered, slanting another look at Rick. “Rick caught them at the pond.”

Carol’s eyebrow rose. “I only saw them standing close,” Rick corrected as Amanda almost rolled her eyes. “Don’t know the affair part for sure. They used to date after Jessie and he got divorced before the outbreak.”

“So he doesn’t want them to attend or is it just Beatrice?” Carol asked, sounding…almost intrigued. “Clarice was just here to pick up Carl. She said her sister doesn’t want to, either.”

Rick’s dour expression turned even more forlorn as he jerked his head, bowing it a little. “I don’t know. Something has been bothering me with this man since the time I saw him with Amanda on our first day in the town,” he remarked icily a second later, his eyes finding hers again under his bowed head.

When their eyes met, Amanda felt her cheeks flustered, recalling that night, remembering the way they had gotten off each other inside the front yard of the maintenance building. The memory almost made her breath hitch out, the way they cuddled, teasing each other, flirting, Rick telling her they should date, get to know each other better before his fingers brought her to a climax quick and hard.

Her lips almost let out a whimper, feeling the same pang in her chest. It was only her fingers touching her in the cold bed now when the loneliness she felt became unbearable. Amanda was accustomed to that stark feeling before outbreak too, feeling it in some dark, long nights, the silence almost oppressive in her small one-bedroom apartment, walls coming down on her.

Those times were worse, but she’d learned how to banish those nights with a few drinks or a quick fuck, getting it out of her system. Even thinking of someone other than Rick touching her now made her stomach lurch, let alone banging someone else, just to chase away her loneliness.

Was that a need, too? She…needed Rick not to feel like that? She so missed him. “You felt it, too,” Rick went on, cutting the turmoil of her erratic emotions and thoughts, raising his head to her. “Thought Jessie was odd when she brought the supplies."

Amanda nodded, swallowing low in her throat before directing her mind on the subject. “Yeah—” she replied. “She came yesterday’s class, did all the stuff I instructed without complaining, and she was good, too, but she was still…fidgety.”

“I know her from the book club,” Carol cut in their discussion. “She moderates the club. She’s a cool woman, but yeah, sometimes she gets distant, odd. Mika likes her.” The older woman paused a second, shifting a look between them. “I saw once the corner of her lips having a faint hickey,” she announced briskly. “I asked Mika if she saw her like that before, she said yes.”

“I saw it too—” Amanda admitted, recalling the time she’d brought Mika to the woman. When Rick shook his head swearing under his breath, Amanda quickly went on. “I’m not sure of the extent. It disturbed me, but she’s got-um—a fair complexion.”

Her voice almost cracked, her cheeks flushing as Rick flicked a look at her, understanding what she’d meant. Rick had left his love bites on her neck, throat, collarbone on many occasions too, getting carried away in the throngs of passion. She cleared her throat, trying to reach to her cool law enforcement demeanor. She was a police officer. She’d seen many domestic abuse cases. Had been the first responder to the scene countless times. She shouldn’t damn act like this!

Her expression schooled into a professional placidness she’d practiced over the years, Amanda stood up and settled Judith in her highchair. She brushed her hand briefly over the top of the baby’s head before she turned back to them and remarked coolly, “She said her husband gets heated sometimes. It could be just that, too.”

Rick shook his head, scowling more. “Beatrice said she broke up with him because of his drinking problems. Jessie also divorced him for that.”

“Joan says he smells alcohol, too—” Carol cut in. “I felt it, Rick—” Carol remarked with the same coolness. “He’s abusing her.”

Amanda shook her head in objection, sitting on her stool again as Rick gave the older woman a half bob of his head. “We don’t know it for sure. We just felt something. Our intuitions aren’t solid proof.”

Rick held the island’s countertop, his fingers gripping the edge tightly. His knuckles turned to white as Amanda saw the muscles in his stretched arm tense. He stayed silent for a second, his expression turning even dourer, his eyes fixated on his hand. “I don’t like this man,” he finally said with a voice as cold as ice.

“You don’t have to—” Amanda replied, keeping her voice calm but firm. “Not liking someone isn’t enough to go and accuse him of abusing his wife.”

His head whipping at her, stern eyes found her. “I am the sheriff of this town.”

“So go investigate,” she countered quickly, not backing down. “Find proof to make a case. Before we act, we need facts.” They weren’t cops anymore, but they still had to do this stuff properly. The town was already in an uproar. They didn’t need any more complications. “The townspeople are already on edge with the classes,” she continued. “Imagine how Deanna might feel like if you accuse her highest FP-C as a wife beater asshole,” she pressed further, raising her eyebrow.

Rick’s eyes grew sterner, but Amanda knew he understood what she meant. If they went on with this, they had to be sure.

“What’s an FP-C?” Carol asked, shooting another look at them while they stood silently, looking at each other.

Amanda turned aside towards her. “First priority-civilian. His class in Deanna’s matrix,” she explained. “Rick is FP-W. First priority. Warrior class. I’m SP-W. Second priority-warrior.”

She would’ve guessed the woman’s lips turn down into a scowl as much as hers, repeating the classes, but Carol looked…amused. “Really?” she asked, shaking her head. “What I am?”

“SP-C—” Amanda answered after a brief hesitation.

“Second priority. Civilian?”

Amanda gave a quick small nod. Carol smiled wider, pleased. “Good.”

Good because her game was well played, that the townspeople had been bought into her well-meaning, harmless housewife game. Amanda couldn’t say anything. That was how Carol survived.

Rick turned to the older woman, too. “Amanda is right,” he acceded, not looking at her, his attention solely on Carol. “We need proof. Better a confession from Jessie. You talk to her, be friendly—” His hand waved in the air vaguely. “Try to open her up.”

Carol nodded, but Amanda frowned. “Why don’t do you do it yourself?” she asked. “You are the sheriff,” she shot back, a trace of dryness underlining her words.

His eyes stayed on her for a second, his jaw clenching as he stared at her, looking very displeased. There was something else in his eyes, too, underneath his annoyance, a haunting look, but it passed before he started speaking; “I’m not good with townspeople,” he said. “Jessie wouldn’t talk to me. And my feelings regarding Pete Anderson are very much mutual. He doesn’t like me, either.”

“Why?” Amanda asked. The man was odd on the porch on their first night, but since then Amanda had never seen them butting heads. All in frankness, Rick’s worst interaction was with Aiden, and Amanda had never seen him not preferring to get into a conflict with Aiden.

“I don’t know—” Rick replied, shrugging a shoulder indifferently. For a second or so, Amanda wondered if she was being…fended off. Something wasn’t adding up. Her expression soured as he turned to Carol again. “You talk to her. I’ll talk to Beatrice. We need to learn more.”

Carol nodded as Amanda’s head snapped at him. Of course. Of course, he wanted to talk to Beatrice! A snarky snippy retort almost came to the tip of her tongue, but she held it back at the last second. She had no rights. She had no right to be jealous anymore.

“I’ll go to her book club before midday. I can try to talk to her there.” Rick absently nodded. Amanda stayed silent. Carol suddenly turned to her. “Why don’t you come too if you’re available,” the older woman suggested. “Rick’s right. He shouldn’t get involved right now but having a professional eye would be nice.”

Rick nodded, turning to her. “Yeah. We need to keep a better track of these people.”

“Still planning a mutiny?” This time her voice came out as dry as fallen leaves.

“You plotted a coup in a day.”

Amanda almost rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She shifted her eyes to Carol. “When is it?”

“Two hours later. In the community center. Neutral grounds, I think.”

“Yeah.” She slid down from the stool and walked towards Judith. “I’ll be there.” She bent down to kiss the baby girl who was half dozing off in her seat, still rubbing her teething bunny over her gums. The poor thing.

“She’s getting a fever a bit—” she said, straightening up, twisting half towards Carol.

“I’m gonna give her a shower,” Carol said with a sympathetic glance at the baby girl.

Amanda wished she could do more for the baby girl, but the next she bobbed her head in a small nod and started walking out. She wished she could do a lot of things differently.

“A-Amanda—” Rick’s hesitant voice called out to her before she left the kitchen. Her feet halting on the doorway, Amanda turned to him. “Uh—” Rick cleared his throat, his stern, bleak expression suddenly shifting into awkwardness. “Do you have a moment?”

Amanda tried not to stare at him, she really did, but failed. This time instead of racing thoughts and panic, her mind drew a blank. She was still gawking at him as Carol scooped up Judith from her chair quickly and trotted out, leaving them alone in the kitchen.

Rick was still waiting, too, standing up by the island. “It’s about Carl—” he explained, but hesitated again for a second and bowed his head, tiredly rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Amanda swallowed, walking back to him. “Is—is everything okay?”

“He blames himself for us,” Rick told her at last in a small voice, lifting his head. “Asked me this morning if we broke up because of him.”

That swell in her chest throbbed again, aching. They caused so much distress to the teenagers whose lives were already hard enough. The last they needed was adults topping up their drama upon them.

“I told him it’s not about anything with him, but—” Rick trailed off, letting out a low sigh. “I know you want to stay away,” he went on after a second. “But can you spend more time with him?”

He sounded almost…imploring so Amanda couldn’t focus on what he’d just told her. I know you want to stay away. It wasn’t only her. Rick was keeping his distance, too. Barely looking at her, barely talking to her. “Perhaps take him out to the woods on a patrol with the others?”

Amanda blinked a few times. “Are you okay with it?”

His eyes bore into hers before he heaved out a deep sigh, shaking his head. “I always trust you, Amanda. It’s never been about that.”

Her heartbeat hastened again, her chest constricted, for different reasons. She nodded quickly, darting her eyes away from him, trying to swallow over the tightness in her throat.

“Is everything okay?” Rick asked, his voice so thick as he swallowed too. “Do you need anything? The attic—”

She quickly jerked her head, cutting him off. “I’m okay. The attic is good. Have a good view.” She paused, holding the edge of the island’s countertop lightly. “Can see the stars when I lie down,” she mumbled the first thing that came to her mind, her eyes shifting to him again.

They shared another look, but this time it lingered, and they gazed at each other. Something felt different with it, too, and for an insane second, Amanda wondered if Rick was going to make a move, take a step forward and lean on in her, kiss her when his eyes flicked over to her lips. Her heart started galloping madly. Could he hear it? Hear how fast her heart was beating?

Judith’s cries ripped off the silence from upstairs, making her jump on her feet as Rick jerked back, breaking over his stupor.

Her grip at the counter’s edge tightened, her knuckles turning white. She bowed her head as Rick looked up above. “I should go and check her,” he mumbled.

“Yeah—” Amanda mumbled in return, her gaze still on the floor.

He started heading to the door, but at the doorway, he halted briefly before he remarked in a placid tone, twisting back to her. “I talked with Abraham.” Amanda lifted her head as he continued. “He has to pull himself back together, help you with the training program.” His voice developed a darker tone, dissatisfaction clear in it as he grimaced. “He sat down enough while you exhaust yourself with the classes.”

She nodded, mumbling a quiet thanks. She didn’t know what to say. She’d been wiping off her ass, trying to do her best, and the knowledge that Rick thought about it, still cared enough filled her chest with raw emotions.

“Rick, I don’t think you’re like him—” the words suddenly left her, ripping out of her chest with a strong need to tell him. She didn’t think he was like Gorman, and she needed to tell him. “I-I just think we shouldn’t play with fire.”

She also wanted to make it better, make him understand why they couldn’t do it, risking everything, but when his jaw clenched worse, his expression souring, his eyes frosted with an icy fire, Amanda realized it hadn’t worked. She could almost feel his anger, but he only gave her a terse nod before he walked out of the kitchen without another word.

After the door outside closed with a heavy thud, Amanda slumped back in the stool, her eyes pricking, but she didn’t let her tears fall.

# # #

Rick stepped down from the porch, his hands trembling to keep his temper stable. We shouldn’t play with fire.

The fire was him. The thing she shouldn’t play with, like Rick was a beast, a monster you should be wary, not get close. He knew she didn’t want to be with him, and she finally admitted the reason too.

She was scared of him. He wasn’t like Gorman, but Amanda was still scared of him. For the man who he was.

Over his eyes, Rick saw Lori again, the way she stepped away from him after Rick had admitted what he’d done to Shane, looking at him with those eyes. In his ears, his screams mixed with Amanda’s subsided murmur… This was you, not me—not me… We shouldn’t play with fire.

Not seeing where he was going, Rick circled the town, his blood pounding in his ear, the veins at his temples throbbing, his ears full with voices he couldn’t escape.

He only tried to do the best for them. Only wanted to keep them safe. His children, his family, Lori, Amanda. When she’d asked him why, for a moment or so, Rick wanted to confess, wanted to tell her why he didn’t like Pete Anderson. He wanted to come clean, he wanted to tell her he didn’t like the man because he knew the truth about Judith, that he knew Judith wasn’t his.

Rick wanted to confess everything, wanted to tell her how he had stabbed his partner, his best friend, his brother into his heart after he surrendered. He wanted to tell he’d killed his baby girl’s biological father. He wanted to tell her he didn’t like the doctor because he knew the truth, and the doctor didn’t like him, either, because Rick had threatened to cut off his vocal cords if he ever uttered a word aloud.

Was Rick a monster?

He only did what had to be done. He always did what must be done.  He wished things would have been different, but to keep them alive, he could do ten folds worse.

That was the world they lived in now. There was no place for regrets or second guessing. He could do anything, anything to protect his family, but—he wished—he longed for…absolution?

No. Rick almost shook his head again, remembering his words to the holy man after Maggie. There was no absolution, no forgiveness. No miracles. The last time Rick had prayed for one, he’d almost lost his son. If God were there above, he’d sent his message clear.

You’re on your own.

No. Rick could do whatever it took to keep his family alive, and he didn’t need forgiveness for the things he had to do. But he wanted… What did he want?

The memory found him as if the answer had been always within him: Amanda’s arms sliding over his chest as she silently hugged him from behind, Rick kneeling in front of his children as they slept after Rick had killed a man only with his teeth, the metallic copper taste of blood still over his tongue. Her fingers clenched against his chest as she rested herself on his back, placing a soft, light kiss against his neck.

His hand touched his neck, still feeling the ghostly feel of her lips there as Rick understood what he wanted. Acceptance.

Rick wanted her to accept him for the man he was.

Notes:

All right, first things first. I've always found Rick in Season 1 and 2 looking for validation, especially from the woman he's together with, like how he wanted Lori to believe in him, and making a fuss when Lori stayed skeptical going to CDC or in the second season. It's very telling for his character, I think, his need for approval and validation. Any shrink would tell you approval-seeking is bad for one, and it's absolutely true, but ironically, in Rick's case, when he stopped caring what other people might think about him at the end of the second season, Rick became...oh boy, he broke the bad, starting with his 'fuck the democracy' speech. I believe any romance with him definitely needs to address this issue, as it's always been his core point. Poor Amanda, just trying to make it better for him, telling him 'he's not like Gorman, but they shouldn't play with fire', but trigging his, what I call, 'Lori button' lol.
That being said, yes, Rick is gonna keep Judith's real parentage in secret, even from Amanda, for a loooong time, not wanting to admit the truth, what he did, how he did it...Judy is gonna be a big...thing between them, but first, we have to deal with Carl :) Rick asking her to spend more with him because he feels guilty, I really wanted to do that for a long time between Amanda and Carl.

Clarice and Beatrice's background quasi wrote itself out when I needed them to be alone in the town for the plot, so, there also had to be a reason why they're, then I was like...'Oh god, this is a gold mine!' Hehe. Judith and Clarice have got a common point, both losing their mothers at birth while giving them life, but forsaking theirs. I wanted this to make a bridge between Carl and her, too, as she opened up to Carl in this chapter. Then I came up with the idea of a 'housekeeper' too, because, lol, those girls also wouldn't stay without someone to take care of them and the house, like a nanny/housekeeper, and Beatrice would totally send her to the training classes in her stead, hehe. Gossip Girl in TWD! I won't deny that I giggled myself silly when I wrote those parts. I hope you enjoy Reese sisters, because I really enjoy writing about them, so, you know, they will be around more in the second half of the story :)

Hope to see you soon, and like always, don't forget/hesitate to leave a comment if you have something to say or just want to 'share the love' :D

Chapter 28: 'Did you do it, Rick?'

Summary:

Investigation on Pete Anderson creates a new tension between Amanda and Rick, which shakes Amanda to her core.

Notes:

I've got an announcement to make!
With this chapter, I'm passing over 1million words posted for Amanda/Rick!! Whoaaa! And I did it in appro. in 18 months, too! Gotta love Covid! I'd already passed the 1million mark for written material, as I'm like at 1.200.000 words in total. To explain it better, let me tell you that both War and Peace and LOTR trilogy are about 580k words. The whole Harry Potter saga, 7 books barely makes over 1million... I think it's a fair deduction that I've become obsessed with these two! Lol.

With this chapter, I'm taking another short break again to write the next (finale) parts of the story! I'll try to return before the end of July because this chapter is gonna finish with a semi-cliffhanger. ;)
Again, attention, Amanda sees the green monster, and her issues will start leaking out of her, poor girl.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Carol returned half of an hour later after Rick left, holding the baby monitor in her hands. The woman’s eyebrow cocked up when she saw Amanda still slumped against the stool, staring vacantly at the kitchen’s wall.

There were no thoughts in her mind now, her brain was just buzzing with wordless echoes. Perhaps she was just reading too much from Rick’s anger, but she still felt like she’d screwed up something again, even though she wasn’t sure what it was.

Carol set the monitor on the island and took a stool across from her. “Hopefully she sleeps better after the bath.” The older woman remarked idly before she paused, eyeing Amanda curiously. “What happened? The loud bang of the door almost woke up Judith.”

Sliding down from the stool, Amanda decided to prepare tea. She needed to soothe down her nerves. Cinnamon and lemon balm tea had become her best medicine. Amanda even shuddered to think how she could’ve survived without her kitten at night, without stroking her silken fur while she forced herself to sleep, and she’d been drinking a lot of lemon balm tea in the last days, a lot of it.

She padded to the kettle and turn it on after filling it with tap water. “I don’t know—” she replied, trying to keep her voice placid, taking the dry leaves from one of the drawers. “We were talking about Carl. Then—then I told him I didn’t mean-uh-something I said before. Told him we shouldn’t play with fire.”

“Hmm.”

Amanda’s hands halted as she stuffed the tea clamps with the leaves. “He got upset—” she admitted in a murmur.

Carol let out a burst of low laughter. “You think?” Briefly, Amanda thought about why Joan felt wary of Carol, the way she’d been following Daryl and her closely. Amanda sensed Rick and she was getting the same treatment from the older woman now too. “You shouldn’t have done that,” Carol continued. “It’s going to set back Rick. He came to talk to you today.”

Amanda dropped one of the clamps inside her mug, muttering, “I thought you wanted me to stay away...”

“No.” Carol objected kindly. “I wanted you to give each other time, have some space. That’s why I said perhaps you should move out. Sometimes we need distance to see better, clearer.” Amanda’s eyes jerked up at her for a second as she prepared the other mug, wondering if the words were coming from Carol’s own experience with her banishment. “I didn’t tell you to push him away further.”

Her hands stopping again, Amanda looked fully at the other woman, her eyes narrowing. “You really want me to keep him docile, don’t you?”

Carol looked unabashed, that kind smile over her lips. “Is it really anything different from what you and Joan tried to do at Grady?” She paused, staring at Amanda in the eye. “I heard the stories.”

“So you must’ve also heard how it ended—” Amanda snapped back, shaking her head. “You all forgot sometimes who I am,” she continued, her tone taking a notch upset, taking off the clamps from the mugs to throw them in the sink. “Think of me as naïve as these clueless Alexandrians. I did things, bad things as much as you all. I killed a man even before the turn. The first time I looked the other way, Carol, I was ten.” Her eyes hardened, Amanda held the woman’s stare. “So don’t give me that shit. Don’t try to play with me.”

“I don’t try to play with you—” Carol objected quickly, still unfazed with her sudden outburst. “Rick and I have our differences as much as you and he, but Rick still needs me. You know it. You just saw it today. In a different way, he needs you, too.”

The kettle whistled. Amanda shook her head again. “It’s too dangerous. I’m not that woman.”

“Pushing him away isn’t going to make things better—” Carol countered. “When Rick killed Shane, Lori became so scared, she reacted, withdrew from him. It just made things worse.”

With the last remark, her hands stopped once more, and this time hot water brushed the side of her hand instead of the mug as her eyes locked on Carol’s.

Pain brought her back to herself. She hastily dropped the kettle and held her hand, dipping her head. Even though Carol noticed her slip, she didn’t say anything. Amanda padded to the fridge to find something cold and took a chilly bottle from inside.

“Rick became more distant, blocked her completely,” Carol continued as she pressed the cold bottle on her burning skin, already flushed.

Amanda knew she should stop the other woman. She didn’t need to listen to this. She shouldn’t listen to this. It’d always been hard. She’d barely managed to bring herself to listen to Maggie for what had happened to his wife, how the woman had died, but learning more?

No. Amanda couldn’t do this. They’d broken up. It was done. It was his past, and it was already too much, damn too hard, and she should damn stay away, but somehow Amanda couldn’t stop Carol, either. She just couldn’t.

It felt like she’d opened Pandora’s box, and she couldn’t close it back. We can’t go back. We crossed the Rubicon. So, let’s go ahead.

Those were the words Rick had told her at the first time she’d questioned if they were wrong for each other. Even then Amanda knew what they were trying was too risky. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but she knew it, knew that they shouldn’t play with fire. She dropped her eyes down at her hand, at her throbbing reddening skin. If you play with fire, you get burned.

“Lori tried so hard to reach him again,” Carol went on, “but she couldn’t. We were still holding onto the lives we used to have, good or bad. In the end, Lori couldn’t be the woman Rick needed for being the man he needed to be to keep us safe.”

The cold bottle still on her burning skin, Amanda jerked her head. “I can’t be that woman, either.”

“You’re already that woman, don’t you see it?” The objection came in a heated voice. “Pete and Rick. They’re going to clash. I don’t know why, but I know it’s gonna happen.” Carol paused, calming herself down. “Pete Anderson is an asshole, Amanda,” she said in a cooler voice. “In the end, Rick might need to stop him, just like he had to do with Shane. But you handled him today nicely. You told him to go to do his job, find evidence, be the sheriff. He needs you. You’re his checks and balances.”

Throwing the bottle on the counter, Amanda made a bitter sound, words somehow angering her more. “And that’s just a nice way to say that I’m his safety valve!” she snarled. “Keep him warm and happy in the bed and coolheaded outside, yeah.”

The look Carol gave her back was unabashed and apologetic as always. “Honestly, Rick isn’t the only one who should be kept coolheaded. It wasn’t him who punched someone in the face.”

“My point exactly, Carol—” Amanda replied, bringing the mugs to the island. Her slight burn was pulsating through her skin slowly, but Amanda ignored the pain. “I’m not like that. I don’t punch people in the face!”

“Even when they deserve it?”

“That’s beside the point.”

“What’s the point?” Carol encountered. “There were times I wished someone would punch Ed in the face. Shane did it once, and it felt good. I felt horrible afterward because I felt like that, but it was still good.”

Amanda stayed silent, not knowing what to say to that, instead took a sip from her tea. Everything in her was so tangled, she didn’t know how she felt anymore. She wanted to go to the boxing ring and get her ass wiped off the floor instead of staying with Carol and talking.

But she had to go to that damn book club. What people exactly did do in book clubs? Amanda had spent most of her spare time either in the gym or in the libraries after she’d given up partying in college, but she’d never been in a book club before.

“What do you read in the book club?” she asked, then frowned. “And how do you read the same book anyway? Do you have copies?”

“We read a chapter per session,” Carol explained. “The book goes to a person for every day. The person on the line reads it then passes it on to the next one.”

“Ah,” Amanda said, nodding absently. “How many times do you come together?”

“Twice in a week. So two chapters of two books per week.”

“What’s it today?”

“Les Miserables.”

“Touche.” She quipped. “Do you read classics?”

“Well, Shelly wanted us to read her Julia Quinn’s novels, but Jessie refused.”

The expressions over her face must be comical as Amanda stared at the woman for Carol laughed wholeheartedly as if they hadn’t been discussing a very controversial matter about relationships a few seconds ago. “I read Les Miserables,” she mumbled after a few seconds.

“No Julia Quinn?” Carol asked, waggling her eyebrows, her laugh in her clear blue eyes now.

“I’m afraid not.”

Judith’s cry came out of the monitor on the counter and Carol jumped down from her stool as Amanda also made a move. “No, you stay, drink your tea. I bring her down, find Carl or Beth and we go to the community center. We drop by Joan too. I think we should say hello, look around.”

 Amanda gave her a nod while Carol headed upstairs. She should drop by Monroe’s residence too and tell Aiden to raincheck on their workout today, but it irked her. She didn’t want to miss it. Even a day. She wondered if she could sneak an hour for herself between afternoon classes, or perhaps at night. It wasn’t like she had plans for the night.

The door outside opened again, and automatically she tensed but relaxed as soon as she heard soft footsteps. She was a fool. Rick was pissed, so he wouldn’t have returned to the house when he knew she was still here. A twinge of disappointment seeped into her, too, and it angered her even more.

Goddammit!

She should stop acting like a lunatic!

Carl appeared after a second at the door, only briefly halting in his steps upon seeing her still in the kitchen. “Hey—” Amanda greeted him, giving him a look.

He was alone. Clarice wasn’t with him, nor Beth. Clarice possibly had returned to her own house, but Amanda wondered where Beth was. She’d already left the house when Amanda came. Keeping track of Beth these days was even harder than keeping track of the townspeople. “Did you see Beth?”

Carl nodded. “She’s with Rosita,” he answered. “Practicing their swings.”

The situation with Eugene had brought conflict between Rosita and Abraham, as the Latina woman didn’t still forgive Abraham for what he’d almost done to Eugene. Amanda was surprised. She couldn’t have guessed the fierce woman regarded that highly the former high school teacher, but she did. Amanda wasn’t still sure the extent of their relationship, but Rosita didn’t approve of any damn thing Abraham had been doing, mostly sitting on his ass idly and drinking.

Moreover, Amanda was glad Beth had found a capable partner to train her whenever she was available as Amanda was damn busy.

Remembering Rick’s words, Amanda wondered if she could ask Rosita to help her with the teenagers if Abraham still didn’t want to help her with the classes. She seemed to get along well with Beth, and anyone who did that these days also meant that they had nerves like steel to deal with mad, high teenage hormones.

Speaking of which…her eyes shifted to Carl.

Amanda eyed the teenage boy again, almost cursing herself. Rick was right. Carl looked…subsided. He really blamed himself for their breakup? It saddened Amanda, making her feel guiltier.

“Where’s Judith?” Carl asked, coming closer to her at the island.

“She was sleeping upstairs. Just woke up. Carol went to pick her up.” She gestured to their mugs. “We were having tea. Do you want some?”

 “No. I’m good.” Carl refused, eying her in the same way Amanda did. “It’s almost noon. Aren’t you supposed to be in the gym?”

Amanda shook her head with a small smile. “No. Made a change today. I’m going to the book club with Carol.”

Carl’s look was speculative. “The book club?”

She nodded. “Hmm mm.”

The teenager directed at her another look, then shrugged, wandering his eyes around. Amanda cleared her throat. “Um—Carl—do you remember what we talked about in the cabin?”

Carl’s attention snapped at her. “I meant what I said that day, Carl. Whatever happens between me and your father, it would never--ever change that,” she continued. “I genuinely care about you and your sister.”

“Did Dad talk to you?”

Amanda hesitated, flickering her eyes away a little, feeling ashamed. “He—uh—mentioned I might want to talk to you,” she muttered. “I’m sorry. I should’ve come to you before.”

“It’s okay.” He paused, his eyes finding her in their awkward silence. “Will you—will you come back?”

She shook her head, something in the way he asked the question untying her tongue. Perhaps it was because it wasn’t one of the adults who was asking her that. Talking with her peers always made her feel edgier, more in defense, as if she needed to protect herself. The decorum and wariness lessening, it was…just easier to talk with children and teenagers.

“I don’t know, Carl,” she answered truthfully, recalling what Carol had also told her. “I think I need to stay away for a while.”

Sometimes we need distance to see better, clearer. Hadn't been that her first thought, too, before things spiraled out of the control? She had wanted to take a break, a breath, think. My father says sometimes we all have to go for a while, but Rick wasn't too far gone. He came back.

The memories tumbled over the top of each other after then, the way he’d given the Glock she still had whenever she went outside, the way she kissed his cheek, not wanting to part ways without giving him something to remember her by, how they kissed at Grady because they both wanted it.

She swallowed, her emotions swelling in her chest. A brave woman would just run out, find him and jump into his arms, telling him she just wanted to be with him no matter what, but Amanda had never been that woman.

   So, she just shut down them all and turned to Carl instead. “I was thinking maybe I can take a few of you for a small patrol tomorrow. The ones who are good in the class—” she said, musing out over it. It would come good to them, to all of them. She needed to focus on her duties, prepare her young cadets, take them out to see the real deal.

No safe walls around them, no safety nets.

It was the time. Carl and Beth knew outside. But the others were still clueless as the day they were born. “Can you?”

She nodded. “We can go with Aiden and his team. Just a quick patrol in the woods.”

“Can Clarice come too?” Carl asked. “She still wants to see outside.”

Amanda gave another nod in approval. “Yeah. Beatrice might have another fit, but yeah. She can.”

It probably was going to cause another uproar in the town when Amanda brought it up to Deanna that she wanted to take them out, but it didn’t change anything. They all were going to need to get out. See the real deal. Walking on a rope when the safety net was under you could never be the same walking on it under a chasm. They had to know the difference.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Amanda smiled at Carl slowly and reached out towards his arm, and hesitantly, almost tentatively she held his upper arm. Her fingers clutched his arm over his shirt as she squeezed her hand. “Everything is gonna be okay, Carl.”

The blue eyes that looked just like Rick’s found her as the moment they heard Judith’s soft puffing sobs. Amanda dropped her hand at her side.

Carol walked in, Judith in her arms, the baby rubbing her gums with her bunny ring. “Oh, good. You’re here.” The words were directed at the teenager as she headed towards Judith’s seat. “We’re going to the book club with Amanda. Can you take care of Judy?”

Wordlessly, Carl bobbed his head. Carol turned to her. “Let’s go.”

Amanda stood up, brushed her lips over Judith’s head before they left the house.

As they strode to the community center, Amanda felt like two cops undercover. She shook her head with a tired, subsided laughter. “What?” Carol asked.

“It’s just—” She let out a sigh this time. “Well, I just felt like cops going undercover.”

In answer, Carol only laughed back at her.

# # #

With a familiar coldness inside his chest, Rick slowed down his trotting to a moderate pace and headed to Beatrice’s house. He found the heiress in the side of her backyard, checking her ceramic statues. Over her yoga pants, she was clad with an oversize sweatshirt that had been tainted with many colorful patterns of paint.

Rick’s expression soured seeing her, his eyebrows knitting. Instead of joining the training program as she should be, she was playing with paints and ceramic playdough like a child. Rick had nothing against paints and play doughs, he liked them quite enough for Judy, so long it didn’t interfere with their progress.

Beatrice lifted her head, sensing her intruder. “Hi, Rick. I—” She stopped, seeing his expression. “Is something wrong?” she asked, standing up.

Rick saw faint color remnants on her fingertips as well. “Amanda told me this morning you didn’t participate in the training class but sent Maria instead,” Rick clipped, not mincing the words.

Running one hand over the side of her hip, she fidgeted, giving him a sheepish look. “Err—I thought it wouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “Maria takes care of us.” Her voice wavered as she looked away. “She’s been doing it since Mom died.”

Rick let out a long sigh as his experience softened a fraction after her words. Rick took a step closer to her. “Beatrice, your nanny can’t fight for you. You have to learn. All of you.”

Her eyes finding his, she shook her head agitatedly. “Why?” she asked, her voice rising, that little soft timbre in her tone vanishing. “We’re safe here. We have walls, guns. And there’s you, Aiden and his team. Pete—”

She stopped herself after that, the sudden fire in her quenching, and bowing her head she looked at her feet. Beatrice was a tall woman, almost passing over his shoulders, but as she looked at her feet, she just looked like a small child.

Rick took another step towards her and tilted his head down to find her eyes. “Beatrice—” he called out to her. “Pete and you—”

She snapped her head up, shaking it agitatedly again. “We’re not together, I swear. We don’t cheat. It—it’s just—” She shook her head again, swallowing down a sob, and Rick saw her eyes watering with unshed tears. Her hazel eyes had turned to green, glinting under the pale sunlight, and Rick found himself staring at her for a second more than appropriate.

“Everyone thinks of me as a joke—” Beatrice muttered, gulping another sob, but this time her tears broke free, and slowly they leaked out from the corner of her eyes. “The ditzy blonde who just fools herself.” Her tears hastened as Rick stood taken aback, not knowing what to do with the crying woman. “I—I feel so lonely.”

Beatrice moved closer to him, closing the small distance between them, and her head lightly rested at his shoulder. She didn’t hold him, as if just touching him at his shoulder was the only contact that she could allow herself, craving for more, and without understanding it, Rick—Rick just wrapped his arm tentatively over her waist.

She felt lonely, craving for contact, craving for connection, for…for someone to accept her for the woman she was, and Rick understood how that felt.

They stayed like that for a few seconds before Beatrice stepped back. She bowed her head again. “I—I’m sorry.”

Rick shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said. “Are you okay now?”

She nodded, running the back of her hand over her eyes. “Sorry. I just become too emotional sometimes.”

“It’s okay—” Rick repeated. “I understand you. But you still need to attend the classes. We’re not safe—” he told the young woman what he told Carl continuously. “No matter how safe it looks, no matter how protected the area looks, no matter how many people around you, you are not safe. You have to accept that.”

She shook her head again, but this time her expression bore the magnitude of his words as her shoulders sagged. “I’m not sure if I can live like that.”

“You have to—” Rick told her adamantly, taking another step towards her, his arms staying at his sides. “If you want to live, you need to fight for it. There’s no other option, Beatrice.”

She was silent for a while, then slowly said, “I don’t want to die. Or Cler or Maria gets hurt.”

“Good—” Rick countered with a quick bob of his head and asked what he’d truly come to look for her. “Did you tell Pete Anderson you don’t want to go to the classes?”

The question caught her unaware as her eyebrows furrowed. “We talked a couple of times, but no. Not directly. Why?”

“He doesn’t want his wife to go to the classes, either, and you, too.”

Beatrice sighed, muttering under her breath. “I told him to stay away.” She gave him a look. “That’s why you came here today, right?” she asked, connecting the dots too. “He told you he wants me to stay out of it like Jessie, and you thought we’re having an affair.”

Not seeing any reason to deny, Rick jerked his head briefly in admission. “He still cares about us, Rick. We’re friends for a long time, but I’m not sleeping with him.”

The way she wanted to make sure that part made Rick give her a look, but he only said aloud. “Okay.” He stayed silent for a second before he continued his questioning. “Why did you break up with him?”

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Are—are you questioning me?” she asked, quickly assessing the situation, and Rick realized, including himself, they had underestimated Beatrice Reese and her…cries. She wasn’t some rich, foolish ditzy blonde. “Is this an investigation, Sheriff?”

“I’m just asking a question. You said before he’s got issues and you broke up with him. What happened?”

Beatrice sighed again. “H-he…sometimes gets…overbearing. Becomes very jealous. I didn’t understand first, you know,” she started recounting. “Even liked it. He was always wondering about my day, my schedule. What I was doing, with whom I was doing it. I just thought he just cares, you know. Felt flattered even, I guess, being cared that much. Then it started becoming something else. Especially when he drank. He started telling me I went out too much, not giving him or our relationship enough attention, became too…friendly with people. I was telling him it was just me and he was saying okay, yeah, you’re right, until to the next fight. It was like he fell in love with me for the woman I was, but then was trying to…change me to something else.”

“I was a complete idiot at first, so in love. I could do anything—anything to keep him happy. I pulled away from my circles, stopped going out, stopped seeing my male friends because he made Pete jealous. But we still continued to fight. He always managed to find something to start a fight, sometimes I contributed too. I lied a couple of times to go out with my friends from college, male friends, and he caught me. Had big fights. Especially if he was drunk. And he was drinking heavily, each night. All of my friends were begging me to get out, but I was still so in love, still thinking like a silly girl that love would conquer all.”

“But nothing was enough. When I drew away from my friends, this time he got obsessed with Cler and Daddy. Started telling me I spent too much time on them this time, ignoring him. Clarice had just started puberty, and there was only me.” She shook her head, letting out a bitter laugh. “I could take a lot of shit from him, but Clarice is my biggest treasure in this world. When he started yammering about her, I finally broke up with him.”

Rick listened to the whole story as his wariness skyrocketed; realizing what kind of an unstable sociopath knew Judith’s secret. His eyes cast below, Rick caught the small statues, recalling how they were discovered broken.

Beatrice had told him then it shouldn’t be the doctor, that the asshole would have made sure certain she knew it was him who did it if he ever did something like this, but Rick had to know, had to know how much the asshole was truly violent.

“Beatrice, I’m gonna ask you something, but I need you to be honest with me,” Rick remarked firmly, turning his eyes to hers to fix at her an intent gaze, searching for the truth. “Did he ever hit you?”

Her hazel eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed as she took a step back. “Beatrice, you don’t have to feel ashamed—” Rick continued, closing the distance she had made between them. “Did he do it?”

She shook her head a little. “No. He never raised a hand at me, but sometimes he gets…heated,” she repeated as Rick remembered Amanda’s words she had heard from Jessie Anderson. “That’s why Jessie wanted him to quit drinking,” Beatrice continued. “It makes his condition worse. He trashes the room, throws stuff around during the fights if he’s drunk. He punched a wall once when he was with me, broke two fingers.” She swallowed. “When he was in Sidwell, he crashed a teacher’s cars’ windshield when he flanked him. His father had to bury it afterward.”

Rick shook his head, letting out a hiss. “You’re gonna stay away from him. If he comes bothers you, find me or Glenn. We’ll deal with him.”

“He isn’t a bad man, Rick. His father was a real—”

Rick cut her off, not caring a damn about Anderson’s daddy issues. “He’s a loose cannon,” he told her firmly, keeping his voice as stern as possible to make her understand, and pointed at the statues. “I think it was him who broke your statues, too.”

Beatrice shook her head again. “I told you it isn’t his style.”

“I don’t care—” he encountered, repeating the same. “Just find me or Glenn if he bothers you.”

She sighed deeply before accepted. “Okay.”

He tipped his head at her and turned to leave, wondering how he was going to have to deal with the man, knowing he was going to need to, but Beatrice called out to him before he left her lawn.

“Rick—” Stopping, Rick twisted aside towards her. “Um—” she paused then as Rick waited, a frown pulling his brows again. “Um—d-do you want to come over to me for dinner tonight?” she suddenly asked.

Startled, Rick stared at her. She flushed. “Uh, Maria is going to Olivia and Shelly for their knitting club—”

“Is there a knitting club in the town?” he asked briskly, cutting her again.

They had damn clubs for every damn thing not relating how to survive. “Well, I guess calling it a club was a bit of extreme. It’s just her, Olivia, and Shelly.” She paused again. “Sometimes I join too,” she said with a shrug, her usual easygoing ways returning. “You can’t guess how relaxing a stockinette stitch would be.”

Rick shook his head with a small smile. “No. I can’t.”

“I can show you if you want.”

“I think I’m gonna pass.”

“Your loss. You might need my scarves one day in the winter.” They elapsed a brief silence before she continued. “Cler said she’s gonna play Monopoly with the others.” She paused. “So I’m alone. If you want to. Maria taught me a new dish. I’ll try it.”

  Rick thought about it for a few seconds, the easy way she talked, the open way she’d confessed how she felt lonely…the way she flirted with him…just made a move on him. Rick knew it was the woman she was, just like she’d told her former boyfriend, and Rick found himself not minding it.

“Okay.”

He wasn’t sure what he was doing, why he accepted it, but he didn’t want to think. Perhaps he was moved by her confession of loneliness, perhaps deep down he understood her too, or perhaps he just wanted…some company.

# # #

The scene that greeted them inside the infirmary wasn’t something Amanda was expecting. Instead of finding Joan with the doctor training, they found her with Daryl.

They were bent over a first aid manikin torso that lay over the desk in front of the library. But instead of CPR EMT techniques, Joan was showing Daryl how to suture. “Daryl, you just gave the poor dum—” Joan stopped in the mid-word, turning her head towards them as they walked in.

“Oh, hi!”

Daryl pulled back from the manikin so fast, so quickly, his cheeks turning a shade of pink, twisting aside from them, straightening himself, Amanda almost laughed at his reaction. She wondered if she was acting like this too when people caught Rick and her, and their reaction, seeing the man, made sense.

The next second she remembered there was no getting caught between Rick and her anymore. Swallowing slowly, she pushed the thought away. Why—why on the earth, every damn thing had to remind her of Rick?

“We just came back from the woods—” Joan said, pointing at the desk, on which the roots they’d picked up were scattered.

Since the whole business with Abraham and his mission had closed off, Joan and Daryl had started going out to look for roots and plants for her garden in the backyard like Joan had been planning, preparing lists from the medicine books they’d found in the infirmary.

She made a good team with Daryl. She studied studying the books, trying to decide what they could find in the woods, then in the mornings they left to look for them before Joan turned to the infirmary in the afternoon for her training.

They had found three different types of plants so far. The two of them were basically antipyretic painkillers, one tasted awful, but the other made good tea. The last one was her real treasure as she announced it was one of the main ingredients of antibiotics and after some process could be used in substitution.

They still didn’t manage to do it, but Deanna had already commissioned a project to Eugene to make it possible.

Joan was sure, if nothing else, they could use it as balm, making an ointment to treat the wounds for infections. Deanna had rather impressed, not to mention quite happy, and had granted Joan a freer…leash to let her wander in the woods as the old woman deemed the meds enough of a risk to take on.

Rick had also made finding some distillation system for Eugene into his priority list, and she knew one of those days, they were going to get out to look for one.

But none of it explained what she was doing right now with Daryl, teaching him how to treat a wound properly instead of working with the doctor himself.

It was a good thought, though, teaching as many people as they could. A first aid course was in their plans, too, after the basic survival training program finished. They had to take it slow. Uploading to the clueless townspeople that much information in such a brief time would only get them snapped.

“Where’s the doctor?” Carol asked, cutting in over her musings.

“I don’t know,” Joan replied with a shrug. “He should’ve been here, but well, I guess he couldn’t leave his drink yet…”

There was a bitter tone in her words as Carol regarded Joan coolly. “He comes drunk to the infirmary?”

Joan shook her head. “No. Not drunk. Just hangover perhaps.” She shrugged again. “Even if he’s around, he doesn’t help much anyway. Just shows me some stuff from the books, then retrieves to his desk.” She pointed at the other desk at the far corner of the open living room, at the end of the rows of the beds. “I can read, too—"

“Dummies can work only so far—” She continued gesturing with her head before she muttered under her breath. “I guess I just need to wait until someone gets shot or something.”

Carol didn’t have any of her snark. “But he doesn’t teach you?” she questioned.

Joan was silent for a couple of seconds before she said slowly, “I don’t think he likes Deanna forced him to train me. He plays along, but didn’t like it.”

“Doesn’t want to lose his privileges as the town’s only surgeon—” Carol mused out.

“I can hardly be a real surgeon without proper training for years,” the younger woman pointed out.

“No one expects you to perform cardiac surgery right now, Joan. We need you to handle a bullet wound, amputate limbs, deal with internal bleeding and sepsis, safe delivery and C-Section.”

Amanda stared at Carol as the older woman easily listed. “Hershel trained me for a while—” Carol muttered then shook her head at the dummy torso on the desk. “You need to practice.” She fixed her look on Daryl. “She needs a fresh corpse, Daryl.”

“What?” Amanda and Joan asked at the same time, but Daryl gave the older woman a quick nod.

“Well, you need practice—” Carol answered Joan directly. “And the practice outside. Like in the med schools. Train with corpses. We put down one, then bring it inside. I trained myself like that too.”

Amanda didn’t know how Deanna would feel about it, but she could see the logic. Joan nodded too, feeling the same. “I go out to patrol tomorrow, taking a few of my pupils. I’ll find one.” She paused. “But we need to run it with Deanna.”

Carol nodded. “Okay. We find Rick later and talk to him. He can talk with Deanna.”

Amanda nodded. She already needed to talk with Deanna about the teenagers that she was going to take out, so she wasn’t looking for another one.

“All right—” Carol said, moving towards the door. “Let’s go. The book club is waiting for us.”

“Why didcha come?” It was Daryl who asked the question as they were leaving the infirmary.

Carol twisted aside at the door and gave him back a smirk. “I was going to ask Joan about the good doctor, but there’s no need anymore. I already understood.”

So did Amanda.

The more they discovered about the man, the more Pete Anderson was turning to an alcoholic asshole, but something didn’t add up. For Rick, the man was just one of the sonsofbitches that he’d stopped caring a long time ago. He would take care of the man if he needed to, but it wouldn’t be personal. They didn’t matter. Even his admission that he didn’t like the man sounded…personal.

The Rick Grimes Amanda knew wouldn’t have cared a damn about Pete Anderson. All her senses were tingling, her cop instinct telling her there was something more, something else.

As they walked towards the community center, Amanda thought about what she would do. The obvious course of action would be going to him and ask what was happening, why he had suddenly become so hell-bent on bringing down Pete Anderson. It sounded—

Her thoughts suddenly stopped as they made a turn around the infirmary at the backside to walk over to the community center from the pond and faced the sight at her left side across the main road.

Carol stopped beside her too, gazing ahead, then her eyes flicked aside towards Beatrice’s house.

Rick was there, and Beatrice—Beatrice’s head was on Rick’s shoulder. It was a light touch, they weren’t touching each other in any other way, but it still felt like someone stabbed her in her guts.

Her eyes prickled, and she swallowed down a whimper forcefully, her eyes stuck on them. She was cast to stone, planted into the soil. She couldn’t move even if she wanted.

They looked beautiful, too. Beatrice’s silky blonde hair shining under the sunlight, her slender form even in old oversize sweatshirts gracefully fitting to Rick. She told herself again she had no rights—no rights whatsoever. They’d broken up. Rick wasn’t hers anymore. Another woman would rest her head on his shoulder for affection. Amanda didn’t have any say in it anymore.

And—and Rick wasn’t returning her affection, right? They all knew how Beatrice was. Rick just must be comforting her. Beatrice possibly had started crying—and—and—

Her thoughts froze again, and if she thought someone stabbed her before, it just felt like someone else returned to finish the job and shot her in her heart when Amanda saw Rick raising his arm slowly, almost tentatively before wrapping it around Beatrice’s waist.

A tear must’ve slipped from her eye because she felt a thin line of wetness over her cheek as Carol spoke softly beside her. “I told you, Amanda—” the woman said with a sigh. “He won’t stay bachelor long.”

Her insides turning to ice as if a cold fire erupted in her, burning her, Amanda stormed off towards the community center without a word.

# # #

How the book club went, Amanda had no damn idea.

She was deaf to the chatter, living in her own chapter of Les Miserables.

Carol tried to start a conversation with Jessie after the session, but the woman expertly dodged them, leaving the center. Carol was displeased, but Amanda couldn’t bring herself to focus on it. The scene was still on the display in a loop in her mind, Beatrice in Rick’s arms…

How many—how many days had exactly passed since they broke up?

More than a week, yeah, but less than two? And just like that, just like that, he let another woman throw herself at him.

Was that how much Amanda mattered to him?

She should’ve known!

She should’ve damn known!

It was just like Michael!

Just one word, just one no, and Amanda was cast away like she had never been there.

Forgotten.

Left alone.

Just dropped at the hospital.

Seriously, what was she expecting? That Rick would mourn for her for months like he had done for his wife? Carol had tried to warn her, but she didn’t listen. Like how she didn’t use to listen to Dawn.

How silly of her. She never learned her lesson, never. That was what she was. What she’d been always. Expendable. Interchangeable. Easy to substitute. A damn SP-W!

 The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze too as Amanda took on the classes. Carl and Beth’s class were the last one of today, so she waited to talk to them about the patrol until it was well passed in the late afternoon.

When they came, Amanda made a quick survey and decided she should draw the line at four. She didn’t trust Aiden and the rest of his team with the responsibility of the teens, and she couldn’t deal with more of them at the same time. Hell, it was a proper run, she could only take one cadet at a time.

Carl was coming, so was Beth. She’d promised to Carl they were going to take Clarice, too. The younger Reese had earned her place, despite her personal feelings regarding her older sister.

So, there was only one person slot left open, and she had a feeling if she took Clarice with her, Beth would take Ron as well.

It sounded like favoring because Ron wasn’t all that good in the track as Clarice beat everyone else there, but Ron also knew how to fire whereas most of her teenagers had never held a gun before.

Weighing her options, she decided Ron wouldn’t be a bad choice. She wondered how the teenager was with Beth. Beth had never said anything about it, but Amanda made a mental note about it to talk with the girl.

Ron looked like he had his own…daddy issues, and the last thing Amanda wanted right now was that Beth became tangled with it.

Dealing with the classes and her pupils calmed her down, and when the classes finished, she almost felt better. The hurt and the feeling of betrayal were still there, with her jealousy, but while her hands stayed busy, her mind stayed silent too.

She wondered if she really would hit the boxing ring, she was feeling bad that she’d skipped this morning routine or hit the track and run her ass off as the teenagers discussed their programs for the night.

“You should talk to your parent about tomorrow—” Amanda reminded Ron as they stood in a circle around an obstacle, and added, turning to Clarice, “And you to your sister, Clarice.”

Clarice shrugged with ease. “Bee seems like she’s in a good mood today—” Amanda held on the urge to pull her hand into a fist. “I saw her cooking. She said she’s having a guest for dinner.”

Amanda tried not to react, she really did, still holding on to her resolves, but something inside her was lashing out at her again, trying to break free, trying to claw itself out of her chest.

Her pain?

Her hands started to tremble. Beth shot her a look, noticing her out of the place reaction even though the others missed it. Perhaps it wasn’t Rick, she told herself to soothe herself down. Perhaps she was reacting too much, reading too much, perhaps it was just a simple hug. Nothing of that sort.

Beatrice—perhaps just asked someone else to dinner…

Perhaps—perhaps—perhaps.

She stopped her thoughts.

It didn’t interest her. It shouldn’t. Rick was a single man now that wasn’t committed to anything. Free to do whatever he pleased. Whoever he damn liked.

Perhaps Amanda just should do that, too. Just go and find someone. Fuck his brains out.

Would that thing inside her satisfy then? Give her peace?

She stopped that thought, too, tried to pull herself back together. She was slipping again. She couldn’t tolerate that. She had responsibilities. People who trusted her. Stuff.

She needed to talk with Deanna. She still didn’t tell her about the patrol tomorrow. She didn’t want anyone to come to look for her blood because she took teenagers outside. She would just bypass Rick and tell her about the corpse they needed for Joan’s training. She couldn’t deal with Rick now.

She left the teenagers and trudged toward Deanna’s house. She kept her eyes trained ahead of herself, not letting them stray away towards the house across—

What was Beatrice going to cook for Rick?

Something fancy, she bet. French or something. Showing off to him how fancy she was.

Her teeth gritted. “Hey—” Aiden’s voice pulled her out of her damn thoughts as Amanda took the steps on the porch. “Did Mother ask for you?” he asked with a frown. “I didn’t know.”

He was sitting with his younger brother on the porch in swinging chairs, both holding beers. It was one of the rare times Amanda saw the brothers together. They usually always ran some errands separately, Spencer Monroe usually taking watches inside. Amanda had wondered more than once both Aiden and Deanna tried to keep the youngest Monroe out of the trouble as much as possible.

Spencer Monroe had boyish charms, and an easy demeanor as much as his older brother. The thought found her out of the blue. Could she fuck him? She couldn’t do it with Aiden. Aiden and she were teammates, of sorts. They couldn’t cross that line. But she had no business with Spencer Monroe—

She stopped herself.

Why the hell she was thinking of it!

She didn’t want anyone else! S-she just wanted Rick.

Instead of making her cry, the last thought made her furious again. Why didn’t she want anyone else? Rick didn’t like he was having any problems with that! Holding girls, going to dates!

“I came to talk her—” she said, silencing her thoughts once more to no avail. Perhaps she just should go and sleep and forget this day had ever happened.

“Err—” she said, turning to the brother again. “Is she available?”

Spencer stood up. “I’ll go ask her.”

When he lost behind the door, Aiden eyed her critically. “You okay?”

Amanda nodded absently. “Yeah.”

“You didn’t come to the gym this morning.”

She gave another nod. “Yeah. Went to the book club.”

“Book club?”

“Hmm mm. Read Les Miserables. Wasn’t bad.” Aiden gave her another look in return too. “I’m taking four of my pupils outside tomorrow. That’s why I came to talk to Deanna. We can make a quick patrol tomorrow,” she continued then, breaking it up to him, too. “Is it okay with you?”

“Who?”

“Carl and Beth—” Aiden nodded. “And Clarice and Ron.”

“Clarice and Ron?” Amanda bobbed her head again, taking the place beside him that Spencer had left. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Amanda.”

“They need to see the real deal—” Amanda objected. “Training behind the walls is never the same as being outside. Each of them will need to go outside when their time comes.”

That was one point Amanda couldn’t back down. Otherwise, she was just wasting her time here. “I can’t take all of them out together. But we have to start from somewhere,” she continued. “Clarice is good at the course, and she already escaped once with Carl. She wants to see outside. Ron knows how to use a gun. He said he was going with the range with his father. I want to see how he is.”

“A’right—” Aiden conceded then. “We take them if Mother says okay. But Ron’s father, I don’t know. He can be such an asshole sometimes. And you know how Beatrice is.”

Amanda let out a sigh. “That’s why I came to Deanna.” She smiled a bit, feeling a bit…cooler with the talk. “I don’t want anyone come after me with pitchforks.”

Aiden laughed. “Oh, Beatrice would just throw at you her stilettos.”

A small laughter escaped from her. “Now that would be a sight.”

Spencer came back to the porch, stopping at the screen door. Amanda pulled up to her feet. “She’s waiting for you.”

“Thanks—” she muttered, walking inside.

Deanna took the news better than she expected, even congratulated them for their ‘manikin’ idea for practice. “This’s a good idea. She needs practice.” The older woman paused. “Just make sure the town doesn’t see what you've brought back. Wrap it in a blanket.”

Amanda nodded. Of course. May her people never see a rotter, God forbid it. “Deanna, all of them is going to need to see how it’s outside eventually,” she said. “Keeping them like this doesn’t help anything.”

“I know—” Deanna admitted. “But eventually is the keyword here, officer.”

Feeling too tired of bickering hypothetically with the former politician, Amanda left the house with an absent nod. She made sure her eyes still stayed ahead, but couldn’t help herself but spy a look at Beatrice's house. There was no one out on the porch. She couldn’t see inside, either.

Beatrice must be inside, preparing her fancy dinner.

Amanda padded towards her own house and went directly towards the attic. She couldn’t deal with anyone tonight, and she didn’t think she should be around when she felt like she was coming apart at the seams. Better to keep her distance until she settled down.

But she couldn’t stay still either. Couldn’t lay down in the bed. Couldn’t sit in the armchair beside her small dining table. She’d taken a book from the center, but couldn’t read, either. She picked up Cinnamon from where the baby kitten had curled up on the bed and started pacing inside the room.

She stroked her kitten slowly as she circled the small attic, her eyes darting across the windows despite her best efforts not to do it. The sun setting, the sky turned into a dark orange with purple beauty before the night fell.

Dinner time had arrived. Amanda wasn’t hungry, so she told them the same too when they’d asked her from downstairs. No one insisted, sensing her mood, probably. Amanda moved towards the tall window beside the table and looked outside…her eyes moving towards the house next to theirs…

And finally saw it.

Rick. He was out on the porch, stepping down in the driveway. He was wearing a white dress shirt, cuffs rolled up over his forearms. Her heart felt like it stopped when Amanda thought it was the same shirt he’d worn for their date. He’d done something to his hair and trimmed his stubble. He looked so handsome…so…going to another woman!

Her eyes hurting, they watered, as her insides roared.

How! How could he do this to her?

HOW!

Her arms falling, she dropped the kitten down before her fisted hand hit the white frame of the window. How—how could he—Cinnamon raising a paw, offended, scratched her ankle over her pants.

Amanda just stared at his back as Rick walked away uphill. Towards Beatrice’s house.

She wondered if he was going to pick flowers for her, too, like he’d done with her. Ever being a gentleman, Rick Grimes wouldn’t go to a date without flowers, right? For an insane moment, Amanda thought of going out and stalk him, to see if he was going to pick flowers for Beatrice.

But she didn’t trust herself if she saw him doing it. Seeing him in the dress shirt had felt like a bullet in her guts again, she wasn’t sure if she could take seeing him doing that for another woman.

She had to do something. If—if she stayed like this whole night, she was going to lose her mind. Pacing the room wasn’t enough, holding Cinnamon wasn’t enough, trying to read wasn’t even remotely enough. She thought of the puzzle she’d found inside the house last week and took it out beside her bed.

She poured all the pieces on the bed, Cinnamon coming back to her, but it didn’t work. Amanda had been a great enthusiast of puzzles, had even finished a ten-thousand piece after her breakup with Michael, giving herself into the enormous thing, but it still didn’t work this time.

She just couldn’t sit down.

That nameless thing was still clawing inside her, and she had no idea how to shut it down.

She threw herself on the bed, her head hitting on the pillows, her tears leaking. With a flash of light, she remembered the cigarettes she kept in her backpack. She bolted up from the bed, rolling off on the floor, getting Cinnamon tsking at her again with her abrupt movements, and lunged at the backpack.

She found the package and the lighter with trembling hands, and trotting towards the window, she opened it up. She didn’t want to smoke inside the room, hated the lingering smell, but sometimes exceptions had to be made. Everyone was still up, and Amanda still didn’t want to see anyone. She quickly lit a cigarette and inhaled a big drag in her lungs.

The sudden attack of nicotine with her empty stomach turned her head, and Amanda welcomed the sensation, taking another inhale. She finished the cigarette in few minutes, her head still turning, and lit the second one without wasting a second.

When she finished the third, she staggered towards the bed, her head foggy, and threw herself on the bed again, sluggish.

She lay down on her back over the countless little pieces of the puzzle, her arms raised above her head, and her mind finally shut down as she waited for the effects of the smokes to dim out.

It didn’t take long, of course, but at least for a while, everything was soothed in her. She needed something; Amanda realized then. She couldn’t survive tonight without help. She should give herself a special grant for tonight.

Booze.

She needed a drink.

God, she needed lots of drinks.

Smokes and drinks. Yeah. If the rotters breached tonight, she could’ve at least died her mind silent.

Covertly, she stalked out of the attic and went downstairs to find Abraham’s stash. He kept his findings inside the cellar beside the powder room in the corridor, so it wasn’t a big discovery, and her luck held on, she didn’t see anyone outside in the corridor.

She quickly retrieved the bottle of whiskey and ran upstairs again. She didn’t bother herself with the glasses, just took a big sip from the bottle. It burned her throat, firing down over her trachea inside her empty stomach, and once more Amanda welcomed the feeling.

Her head started spinning again, hunger and the years she’d passed without tasting even a drop of booze had lowered her alcohol tolerance to nothing. She threw herself back on the bed, just sipping from the bottle, waiting the night to finish.

Tomorrow was going to be better, she promised herself. She was going to be better. It was just one night. It was going to pass. It always did. It wasn’t the first time she felt like this. Granted, it never hurt like this, this much, but she knew it was going to pass in time. She just needed to wait it out.

The darkness fell completely, and the sounds completely silenced when she understood the evening turned to the night. Amanda checked the bottle. She hadn’t even finished two fingers from it, but she already felt totally wasted.

It brought a low laugh out of her, and she started laughing. She wasn’t even sure what was that much funny as her laughter almost choked in her throat as they turned to sobs.

Hell, she didn’t even know why she was crying, but she didn’t do anything to stop it, either. Maybe she just needed a catharsis.

When her cries finally stopped, the moon was high in the sky, the stars shining brightly. Taking another sip from the whiskey, Amanda staggered towards the window, taking another cigarette from the table, and lit it.

She wondered if Rick had come. How many hours had passed? Four—five?

They couldn’t spend that much time over dinner, right? She took a puff from the cigarette, her hands starting trembling again, and quickly took a sip from the bottle too. Were they—were they having sex?

The thought hurt her so badly, she almost stumbled down on the floor.

He was fucking her!

What else they would do in a dinner that long?

He hadn’t returned. She knew he hadn’t, because she could see the drapes over the windows in the master bedroom. They hadn’t been pulled aside. Rick didn’t sleep without letting moonlight in the room for Judith, so if the drapes were covered, then he wasn’t in the room.

Her hands were trembling even worse. She felt out of breath, panicking, her eyes tearing again.  He was fucking her. He was just fucking her. Her hyperventilating brain immediately cooked up images for her. They were over the dinner table, Rick had thrown her on it, and was fucking her just like that, not fully naked, either—

The window’s frame shook as her fisted hand hit it, and the embers fell on her skin, burning her. She shook her hand with pain, jumping on her feet, swallowing down the sobs, muttering curses.

Realizing she needed to take fresh air, she left the attic, almost tumbled down from the ladder, and stalked out of the house. With one hand she was holding the bottle, with another the cigarette package, and her damn feet were only in socks. She had thrown away her boots once she went up to the attic.

The wooden floor still felt cold with her socks in the night chill, but Amanda didn’t care. She curled up on the chair on the porch instead and lit another cigarette. The cold night air soothed her erratic, intoxicated feelings as she slowly sipped from the bottle.

What the hell she was doing, she had no idea.

Was she—was she waiting for him?

Why hadn’t he still returned?

She almost got up and really went to check Beatrice’s house. It was about fucking midnight! She jerked up to her feet. She couldn’t take it any longer. She had to see it. Even though it was going to break her heart apart, she had to see it. This was torture.

She quickly climbed down the steps, still in her socks, only wearing a long oversize cardigan over her shirt, her hands holding the whiskey bottle and the cigarette package, and stepped out on the driveway.

Before she took the sidewalk in front of the house, she finally saw him, trudging down from the north side, his hands stuffed inside his jeans, his head bowed.

He still didn’t see her. The sane thing to do was just running away inside before he did, instead of staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights, but there was a lot of alcohol running in her veins from being sane tonight.

So, instead, Amanda just stood there and gawked at him until Rick finally sensed her presence and lifted his head.

His steps halted too, seeing her, and Amanda could even see the way his chest rose and fell with his deep sigh. The next second, he walked to her.

He eyed her hands, his brows pulling in a displeased expression settling over his features when he stopped in front of her. “Are you drinking?”

“W’re were ya?” Amanda asked, instead of answering him, and noticed with horror that her words were slurring too. 

Rick shook his head. “You’re drunk—” He took her elbow lightly and turned her, “Let’s get you inside.” He started leading her back to the house.

“No.” She stopped but didn’t pull away from his touch. “Ya didn’t answer me. W’re were ya?” she demanded again, taking a step closer to him.

“I was making a patrol—” he told her, his eyes finding hers.

“And before?”

“I was at Beatrice.”

Her lips quivered, and her eyes watered as she shook her head. “I fuckin’ hate you, Rick,” she spat at his face before she turned again, yanking herself off and started storming—or rather staggering back inside.

Her feet tangled and she almost lost her balance, but Rick caught her at the moment and stabilized her. “C’mon. Let’s get you inside,” he repeated. “You can’t even walk straight.”

“You go and help Beatrice—” she spat again, pulling herself free once more. “I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah.” She heard him muttering behind her as she walked back towards the porch, realizing he was following her, even though he kept his hands off to himself. Amanda didn’t know what was happening, but she didn’t stop him when he stepped on the porch with her.

Holding on one of the beams at the corner, her fingers still clutching the cigarettes, she looked at him. Rick stared back at her. “Amanda—”

“Did you do it?” she whispered, cutting him off. She didn’t even know how she did it. It just left her. It was the booze, she told herself. It was just the booze because she still continued. “Did you fuck her?”

Giving her a look, Rick shook his head. “No, no… We’re not having this conversation—” he muttered, still shaking his head and made a move to step down from the porch. “You’re gonna regret it in the morning.”

She held his elbow and pulled him towards herself, the cigarette package slipping out of her grasp. She didn’t even spare a glance. Something made her even more scared… his answer. No, his refusal to answer. She needed to know. It was killing her… Just killing her… “Did.you.do.it, Rick?” she whispered out.

His eyes flashed blue, raising to hers. “Amanda, why do you even care?” he hissed back, moving in on her too, her hand still on his arm. “You don’t want me.”

For a split second, Amanda stared at him, words not registering to her, the next second her hand jerked up from his elbow and grabbed his collar. She yanked him towards herself and pressed her lips on his.

Notes:

All right, here we are, getting a drunken love/hate fit because a torrid love affair wouldn't be one without having drunken sex on a break, right? Lol.
If Amanda didn't react like how she did, Rick would have just continued to go to Beatrice until they had sex, all the while pinning for Amanda, until he moved on. He's just like that, needs to be in a relationship... So I also wanted to play with this, how Amanda would react when she gets scared of truly losing Rick because she needs that push now, too.
I constructed the whole subplot for Amanda in these parts around an exchange from Waiting for Godot, which is one of my favorite plays, too, in the modern era.
-Stay with me
-Did I ever leave you?
-You let me go.
Amanda is exactly like that, too, poor girl. She could break up with you, but if you let her go, don't fight for her, she starts to feel bad, despite herself, telling herself that's what she is, because everyone 'lets her go', abandoning her. Her issues with her self-worth rose their ugly head as they're always her biggest problem. But this little 'date' Rick had is gonna come back to him, lol, like in each fight. Rick is so gonna regret it for the rest of his life. Hehe, Amanda is gonna make sure of that.

Personally, I felt so bad for Beatrice, too, because how lonely she is. SO I needed to find her a romance, hehe! I'm not gonna spoil it here, but it will come later :D But rest assured, there won't be any Rick/Beatrice, or any third parties for Amanda and Rick as I don't like love triangles, and Amanda and Rick's problems aren't that. Beatrice and Pete's 'romance' actually is exactly what happened to one of my best friends. She had a relationship exactly like this a few years ago, something I devised my Pete Anderson around too. Unfortunately, what's told in the narrative happened exactly like that too, only the loser didn't get jealous of my friend's teenage sister but her toddler niece... I like getting inspired by my real life, so I worked this inside the story, too, because I know this could happen to any of us. I don't want to sound didactic, but please, guys, over jealousy does not mean 'love', it just means he's a loser who lacks self-esteem.

For the last, I want to make another little warning. I know fandom has got little love for her, but I like Lori and have never seen her as a 'slut'. I don't want any Lori-bashing. I always thought she was one of the most humane and relatable characters in the show and got so much heat needlessly. Lori and Rick were just wrong for each other in the end, but it doesn't mean she was a bad person.

All right, I talked again a lot, sorry! :) This was kinda a big chapter. Hope to see y'all soon! In the meantime, don't hesitate/forget to tell me what you think, or just say hello :D Ciaociao

Chapter 29: 'I want her back'

Summary:

When Rick's date finishes in a way that has surprised them, both Rick and Amanda are going to deal with the aftermath in the morning. After Amanda leaves for a patrol outside, taking the teenagers along with her, Rick finally slips to Carol what has been lately happening with him.

Notes:

Surprise! I know I said I was going to work on the finale of the book, but life had other plans...unfortunately. My life has been nothing short of a disaster movie for the last two weeks, so I haven't been able to put down a new word, but I wanted to finish editing a chapter at least. So, enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

She tasted alcohol, smokes, and everything else that Rick had been deprived of since she’d broken up with him.

The thought itself should’ve been enough to set him off, enough to cool him down; she had left him, didn’t want to play with fire, and now she was kissing him because she was drunk, but the only thing Rick could’ve managed to do was opening his lips to return her kiss as his arms quickly shot up, coiling around her neck to bring her closer to him.

God, she tasted like…sin.

And Rick couldn’t stop himself.

Angling his head, he deepened the kiss. He remembered how much he’d missed the rough yet still soft texture of her lips as he sucked her bottom lip that was still flavored with whiskey. She bent down a little, dragging him along too, and when Rick heard a low clank, his eyes cracking half-open, he saw her setting the bottle still in her other hand on the floor.

He must be mad, scared and mad because she’d managed to get her ass drunk like this, but there was another part in him that whispered to him that she’d done it because Rick went to another woman and it turned him wilder. Her jealousy boiled the blood in his veins, and Rick felt as drunk as she was even though he didn’t take a sip of drink the whole night.

No. Rick was just drunk of her.

Yet, he still knew he should stop this. The sinister voice in him reminded him again she was going to regret it in the morning, even worse was going to blame him. He should stop her, but when her teeth nibbled his bottom lip, Rick knew he’d lost the battle.

He yanked her even closer to him as she wrapped her free arm around his neck and started climbing down the steps. Rick stopped her. “No—” he hissed at her, moving his lips toward her ear. “No. We’re not going to do it again in a damn garage.”

No. They were not going to have sex again in the garage, Rick had made a promise for that.

After a brief hesitation, as she stared at him under a haze of half-closed eyelids, Amanda nodded. “Okay.”

Rick twisted her around in his arms and wrapped his arms around her waist. He nudged at her from behind. “Lead the way,” he whispered to her, taking the bottom of her earlobe in his mouth.

Staggering in his arms, she did. She hesitated in the corridor again as they hopped over the doorway, entangled to each other, his lips making a wet trail along her neck and jawline, and Rick raised his eyes to see what she was going to decide.

The den was out of the question as the bedrooms that were occupied with the others. There was the powder room, the small pantry under the staircase, the living room, and her room in the attic.

Her eyes flicked around, but then she made a move for the stairs. Rick tightened his arms over her middle, dipping his head at her shoulder, something lifting off his chest.

Quietly, still tangled together, they climbed the staircase, making out with wet kisses. She had tossed her head on his shoulder as Rick kissed her exposed neck, his right hand already slipped under her cardigan and t-shirt, cupping her breast.

Her hand had slid down to his hip too, holding onto him, as the other held his arm across her stomach. She moved them towards the left when they landed upstairs, toward the low platform that went up the attic. Freeing his right hand, Rick pulled down the ladder then grabbed her waist and hoisted her up.

She was still uniquely clumsy, nothing of her usually sleek, deft movements, as she stumbled in his arms before he steadied her grabbing her hips when her feet in socks missed a step. Rick wondered if she had become drunk outside on the porch, waiting for him to return, because he hated to think of her taking down these steps while she could barely walk.

The beautiful, stupid, damn fool.

More than climbing out, they tumbled out on the floor together before Rick pulled them up to their feet.

Finally seeing her room, something constricted in his heart. It was so bare, so stark, so…grey, lacking any warmth, any…homeliness. There were only a few pieces of furniture scattered around and a low bed on the floor.

Something in him roared. This couldn’t be her room. It was wrong. Amanda living so bleakly, so blank, it wasn’t right. Most of her stuff was on the floor or around a cloth rack on the left side of the bed. The only color in the room, the only beauty was the flowers inside a vase on the table beside the tall window, nothing else.

On the bed, Cinnamon were curled up on a blanket, and Rick saw many puzzle pieces shuffled around, then his eyes caught something blue and white over the pillows under the covers, but Rick still realized what they were. His blue boxer shorts and white t-shirt he’d left to her.

His chest wrenching further, he pulled her at himself, wrapping her inside his arms. “Amanda—” he whispered to her, hiding his head at her neck.

She moved her lips to his ear. “Did you do it, Rick?” she breathed out, her hoarse voice sounding so broken, it made him feel even worse, cursing himself even for setting a foot inside Beatrice’s house.

“No—” He shook his head. “God, no. Amanda—”

His words were cut off as she pressed her lips on his again, kissing him hungrily. Holding on to his shoulders, she jumped on him as Rick coiled his arms over her and carried her to the bed.

The kitten straightened up when they tumbled down on the bed and slipped down before she curled up on her small pillow-bed on the floor. Rick pulled up on his knees and quickly started shedding off his clothes, his hands pulling off his shirt under his waistline first. Straightening, her face suddenly angry, she reached out to him and started yanking it off him. Rick grabbed her cardigan in return, quickly rolling it up with her undershirt over her head, Amanda pausing her attack only to raise her arms.

Diving downward, Rick lunged at her pants then, dragging her panties along the way. He tossed them away as she unhooked her bra, dropping herself on the bed completely naked, their eyes still holding the contact.

His torso naked, his shirt already peeled off, Rick dived again and lay over her, pampering her collarbone, neck, and bosom with kisses. Nestling himself between her legs, she loosely wrapped them around his calves as Rick trailed over her silky skin and mouthed on her breasts.

As he sucked on her nipples, his head moving repeatedly to give each mount enough attention, her hands shot up and stopped him. “No—no—” she half rasped, half moaned as Rick lifted his head to look at her. “Just fuck me now.”

Whatever resolves he had, all those little voices still whispering to him that they were doing a mistake completely silenced after that. He quickly withdrew between her legs on his knees, easing off his jeans before he lay over her again kicking them off over the bed.

"Condoms—” he grated over her ear. “Where are your condoms?”

Then it happened again. She twisted her head to him, stilling under him, and Rick understood she didn’t have any condoms. Common sense returning to him, Rick began raising away from her, but suddenly she wrapped her arms and legs all around him and dragged him down on her.

She rested her forehead on his shoulder before murmuring a small, barely audible, “Do it.” Rick stilled, staying in her hold, but he didn’t move. She arched her hips and ground over his hardened bulge and repeated in a clearer whisper. “Do it.”

Rick held the nape of her back gently and turned her head to face him. If she wanted this, she had to look at him. She had to see him. She was asking for this. He couldn’t bear seeing her looking at him like that again. This was her choice.

Her eyes were still half hazed, half dazzled, but she didn’t run away them. Looking back at her eyes, Rick pulled an inch, positioning himself, and slid inside her wet depths.

She moaned loudly, letting a deep drawled-out sigh as Rick felt himself splitting her, stretching her slick, heated walls. God, she always felt like a furnace, but this time her flames were a thousand folds hotter with skin-to-skin contact.

He dipped his head over her collarbone, the sensation, experiencing her like this again turning his head more than as if he’d bottled up that whiskey, her scent filling his nostrils. Every cell in his body felt the contact as Rick burned with desire, with want, longing for her, craving for her, for everything he’d been deprived of.

Then she started stirring under him. Rick shuddered with a hoarse hiss, surges of hot electricity running along his body down to his core as he tightened his grip over her, barely managing his shivers.

“Hold still—” he forced out through gritted teeth. The veins in his temples were throbbing with each breath Rick took as he tried to maintain his self-control. If he moved now in her tight, heated depths, he knew it wasn’t going to be able to hold himself long.

Understanding him, she stilled, but her lips were still making wet trails over his jawline, then her fingertips brushed across his back, tracing his spine. Rick shivered. “Baby, you’re gon’ be the death of me—” he groaned against her neck, his fingers clenching inside her hair.

She giggled lowly, a deep husky voice at the back of her throat, and Rick felt it resonating around his cock as she wriggled her hips to arouse him more.

In response, holding on to his resolve, Rick drew back an inch out of her and buried himself back in her the next second.

“Oh, god!” she rasped out a deep moan, clenching her thighs as she moved her legs over his upper waist. Rick mimicked the action. “This’s so good—” she moaned more, rocking her hips along with him as Rick picked up his rhythm, raised on his forearms above her.

“Yeah?” Rick whispered back at her, his eyes finding hers.

 “Yeah—” she only said, closing her eyes as Rick thrust in her deeper, her head tossed back before she grunted in a heated urgency. “More—”

Rick obliged quickly, still watching her, rocking his hips faster, sliding in her with quick strokes, but she jerked her head frustrated. “Harder! God—harder!”

The fire in him incited like a wildfire, unable to keep under control, his self-control vaporizing into it. Rick let it go. He reached out and flipped her around.

He drew back on his knees, pulling her up too before staggering them toward the headboard and propping her stomach against it on her knees, spreading her legs wide. He grabbed her waist to angle her thighs outward, settling himself between her legs as Amanda clutched the edge of the headboard tightly. From her back, Rick eased his right hand down over her wet folds, searching for her hidden spot at the same time his cock began rubbing over her entrance that made low, hoarse whimpers fall off her lips, playing with her like she’d done to him.

Rick wanted to fuck her like this, wanted to turn her crazy, just like seconds ago, begging him to fuck her again. Tracing a long, drawled wet kiss over her shoulder, he smirked, sucking her juncture, and plunged into her again. He quickly hastened his pace, tightening his arms around her, throttling up all way down, fucking her harder in a merciless rhythm.

His balls made wet, heavy sounds as they hit her ass from behind, and the back of her neck rested on his shoulder, Rick brought his left hand over her mouth to muffle her loud groans as his other hand found her clit and started moving his thumb with quick slides just in the way that turned her mad.

She came quickly after that, constringing around him, shattering with strong shudders, but Rick didn’t let her go. He kept his hard pace, he could feel every vein in his body throbbing with the exertion he put on himself to hold back his climax, his every muscle in the body tensing with effort, but he still didn’t let it go.

She wanted this, so Rick was going to give it to her. His everything.

She was wet, glistening with perspiration in his arms, and so naked. Her right arm was coiled back around his neck as she still held the headboard’s edge with the other, her head still on his shoulder, her back arched against him. They were staring at each other as Rick fucked her like a primal animal just as she demanded, his eyes locked on hers, his hand clasped over her mouth.

She wanted him. She wanted him so badly, her lust and desire were shining so heated in the depths of her emerald greens.

His blood on fire, that raw need, that feral desire reigned over him entirely.

Rick pulled back and started rubbing his cock over her back entrance. Amanda’s eyes widened for a fraction, realizing what he wanted as Rick stared at her, asking for her permission without words.

Amanda blinked once, tightening her grip on his neck in response, her nails digging into his skin. Dipping his head, Rick kissed her temple before he moved his hand away from her mouth and bent her upper body further down on the bed.

She rested on the pillows on her elbows and her knees, her head almost hitting at the headrest as her ass stuck out completely for him, her legs spread wide, her breasts brushing over the mattress. Straightening, Rick pulled up on his knees, too, and holding her hips tightly, he slowly began rubbing his thumb around and in her ass. She hid her face on the crook of her inner elbow to muffle the sounds she made, her knees trembling when Rick pulled back his fingers massaging her and replaced them with his cock.

He halted, feeling her walls clenching, trying to house him as she still trembled. Rick crept his hand under between her legs and found her clit again. She must have been too tender after her climax, but still, she soon started whimpering as if she couldn’t help herself, and Rick started moving.

It was so intimate, so intense, Amanda letting him take her like this again, down on her hands and knees, feeling her bare, but it wasn’t still enough. Rick wanted to be closer, longed to have her closer, wanting her to accept even this part of him…just like she’d come to him that night in the woods and kissed his neck, holding him tightly.

Leaning down over her, Rick held her as tightly as she had done that night, rocking his hips madly. “Amanda—” he chanted her name in a whisper to her ear. Her legs buckled, and they fell on the bed, Rick right on top of her.

He still didn’t let her go, just pushed himself back into her ass, and began pounding in her again. His hand slid downward stuck between the mattress and her body to reclaim her clit. Deep throaty moans dropped out of her lips when Rick found his target, her head rested aside on the bed as Rick raised his and kissed her shoulder before catching her lips. Mounted on her, they were in full contact, every inch of their bodies touching, only one thing missing.

His left hand climbed up and finding hers, Rick entwined their fingers. Then they were linked together, every part of them clicked. Rick sensed his stomach coil, knotting, riding hard on his climax. He bowed his head to the crook of her neck, his hips bucking uncontrollably.

He couldn’t hold back himself anymore. His fingers gripped hers even tighter, his lips trailing over her neck…Letting it go, Rick closed his eyes, biting her as he came inside her ass.

They lay just like that; Amanda prone on the bed, his weight pinning her down, and their fingers still tangled. His cock slowly softening, he slipped out of her. Rick knew he should move away from her. He was crushing her down, but even Amanda didn’t move an inch. She was sweaty much like him, and they should both get clean up, his semen was running over her inner thighs, Rick could feel the sticky wetness, but he still stayed above her, breathing laboriously.

After a while, she finally started stirring and slowly crawled away under him and rolled on her other side, turning her back to him quietly.

He wanted to sigh, deeply as they stayed silent, a feeling that they had screwed up once more coming to him. Rick rolled on his back, throwing his arm over his forehead, a myriad of emotions spinning around in him like a whirlwind, and he knew Amanda wasn’t any different either, if not worse. What had happened, what they’d done registered more, but Rick felt so tired to think anymore.

Feeling the small pieces of puzzles underneath them chaffing his skin, he gazed up at the ceiling, catching the night sky through the window above, moon and stars shining over the velvety black canvas. Amanda was right. It was beautiful. It made him feel a bit better, knowing she at least had this view.

He had to go now. Amanda had drawn away. It was as clear as the sky from the way she’d turned away from him, still facing the other side, refusing to look at him. She was going to regret this in the morning. He should leave. But he couldn’t, couldn’t slip out of the house just after as if they’d done a drunken booty call.

Silencing the thought, Rick caught the thin covers beneath them instead. The puzzle pieces fell over them as he pulled the covers over their naked bodies. Silently, looking at the stars, Rick drifted off into sleep.

# # #

Amanda woke up with a pounding head. Her mouth was as if she’d eaten cotton while she felt thirsty like she’d never felt in weeks. She blinked sleepily against the sun that seeped over the uncovered windows, bright sunlight making her headache worse.

God. This was something Amanda hadn’t missed a bit. She’d never been good at handling hangovers, and apparently, the time she’d spent without alcohol after the outbreak had only made it worse for her. She stirred, slowly noticing that there was a heaviness on her back.

Getting panicked at the same time she also registered that she was stark naked under the covers, lying over the puzzle pieces on her stomach, her inner thighs and her ass feeling sore in that particular odd way, and there was a hand softly cupping her ass. Her pounding head whipped aside, and—and—she saw Rick.

Fuck! was the first reaction her foggy mushy mind managed as last night jumped onto her fully. For a few seconds, Amanda hoped it was a dream, a fantasy that her inebriated mind and unstable emotions had cooked up for her, but Rick’s hand on her ass felt very, very solid.

What the hell they’d done?

What the hell she had done?

It was pretty obvious though, even without her disjointed memories. She could still remember kissing him on the porch on a crazy urge when he challenged her like that, then taking him up to her room. Telling him to do it, begging him to fuck her harder. More images followed, Rick flipping her on the bed, propping her against the headboard first, riding her hard from behind then fucking her ass as she lay prone on the bed.

Heat rose in her as her head turned even worse, scenes of them playing in her foggy mind in repeat. Her feelings from last night returning, she felt the same miserableness again after lust was spent. A pity fuck, she had just become a pity fuck.

Her eyes darting over to him, she spied a look at Rick. His arm thrown across her back in a way that made his hand somehow grope her ass, he slept next to her lying on his back. The covers had almost slipped over to his lower waist, leaving his deftly toned chest bare. Instead of gawking at the scene, a Rick Grimes sleeping soundly beside her naked, Amanda tried not to think if Rick had felt it, too, that he fucked her out of pity after seeing how much she lost her shit just because she had seen him going to dinner with another woman.

She should’ve never done this, never let things come this far again. She was making mistakes over mistakes. She then felt the stickiness between her legs over her inner thighs, her panic rising worse.

God!

She had become so wasted last night, so gone, her erratic emotions turning to a feral lust that she didn’t even care they didn’t have a condom. She'd just wanted him. Wanted more. More of him, wanted him to fuck her with his everything, harder, faster, wilder, making her throw every caution out of the window. Rick had come inside her ass, she knew it, but what if he’d come inside her instead?

She cursed inwardly, then her eyes shifting toward the floor, they fell on the white dress shirt. Anger found her like a blaze, chasing all her dejection, all the remnants of the haze of booze and fog in her brain away.

She twisted away from his arm, and straightening, sat on the bed, the covers easing down over her lap. Her movements roused Rick. His eyes jerked open and found her while Amanda stared ahead.

It was just the worst morning after she had ever had. She was hurt, angry, still feeling miserable and betrayed as a stark headache was throbbing through the back of her eyes to her temples, between her legs sore, and her ass still fluttering in that odd way. She wanted to lie down and forget last night had ever happened, but more importantly, she wanted to be alone.

This was exactly why she’d always hated taking men to her bed. If it wasn’t her room, she could’ve just left. She didn’t have energy or desire to deal with Rick, but the way he looked at her silently, keen narrowed eyes staring at her intently, was also telling her she wouldn’t get easily be rid of him.

 Amanda pulled the covers up over herself with one hand, feeling more awkward under his scrutiny. “I need to prepare—” she spoke through her tight throat. “I’m taking out Carl and others for a patrol this morning.”

“Carl said after breakfast,” Rick replied with a voice as coarse as hers, his gaze still locked on her. Amanda shrugged a shoulder. It made sense Carl had told him, but Amanda still needed to prepare, and she couldn’t do it while he kept looking at her like this.

Besides, their household hadn’t still woken up. By the judge of sunlight, Amanda guessed it was past dawn, something unusual for both of them, sleeping beyond the sun break, but Amanda didn’t want anyone to see Rick making his walk of shame.

God, she didn’t want anyone to discover what they had done last night, falling back into bed again after what—twelve or so days? Her anger flaring again, her eyes skipped to his white dress shirt, an urge just to kick him off the bed strongly rising in her. He couldn’t have even waited a full month before he started fooling around!

“I need to prepare—” she repeated, making the dismissing gesture clear in her flat tone.

His expression souring, Rick drew up too. “If you want me to leave, just say it,” he bit off, swinging his legs on the floor to turn aside. “I won’t impose my unwanted company on you, don’t worry.”

“Well, if you want to do your walk of shame in front of the whole town, be my guess,” she snapped back, even though it was exactly the opposite of what she wanted.

Shooting her a look over his shoulder, Amanda saw his eyes only grow heated as his jaw squared. “I don’t have anything to hide.”

“Yeah, I know…having dinner with your next the same night you fucked your ex—” she snickered in a hiss. “Alpha of the pack.”

He shook his head, turning away from her again. “I knew you were going to blame me for this,” he rasped out bitterly, reaching out to his clothes that were piled up on the floor. “I told you you were going to regret it.”

“Do you, too?” she encountered in the same brisk tone as Rick stood up, putting on his jeans. “Wish it were Beatrice?”

His face was furious when he spun to her, but the hurt inside her made her lash at him again, hurt him back just as he had hurt her.

“By the way, I saw your hands empty last night. Didn’t you bring her flowers?” she taunted with a cutting mocking tone. “Perhaps that’s why you didn’t get lucky, Rick. You should sharpen your game.”

“And I ask again, Amanda—” he replied bitingly. “Why do you even care? Apparently, I’m nothing to you more than a drunken quickie that you want to get rid of at the first light in the morning. Not playing with fire, eh?”

As soon as he uttered the words, Amanda regretted what she’d started. No. Hurting him…no, it didn’t make her feel better. Just worse. Much, much worse. She bowed her head, shaking it, feeling her eyes prickling. “This was a mistake—” she muttered quietly.

Bending down, Rick grabbed his shirt and boots and walked to the ladder before he agreed, “Yeah. It was.”

# # #

Amanda had been right about one thing. Rick had no desire to do a walk of shame.

He silently put on his shirt as quickly as possible climbing down the stairs and left the house. As everyone was still sleeping, there were no unlucky encounters. Outside, the chill breeze found him, cooling down his anger and his mood. Rick knew, he damn knew she was going to regret it in the morning, so he didn’t know why exactly he’d become this furious. But even though he did, perhaps a naive part of him still hoped they could’ve managed to sit down and talk.

Talk about what? That she’d become so jealous of another woman, got drunk, and fucked him? That there was a part of him that still felt hopeful she would want him back? Would want to try another time? Make another exception for him? Because it was him, and because they were different?

No.

Rick wasn’t different, and Amanda didn’t play with fire. She didn’t get into the fights she knew she couldn’t win. She’d already made up her mind that he was a lost battle, a lost cause that she should keep away her distance. Rick had to accept it now.

Quietly, he sneaked into their house and went to the master bedroom. Judith must be with Carol and Joan or with Carl. Briefly, he wondered if they knew where he had passed the night as they must’ve noticed he hadn’t returned last night. He hadn’t told anyone he was going to Beatrice, but everyone had understood something was up when they saw him suiting up.

Dipping his head, taking a step up, Rick gazed at the white dress shirt, recalling the way Amanda had looked at it. Holding the railings, Rick momentarily halted. Despite her cutting, icy dry words, there was hurt inside her eyes when she did before she asked if he’d brought flowers to Beatrice.

For a second, Rick just wanted to go back and tell her that he only went because he felt so damn lonely, because he was so much missing her, but still couldn’t have stayed long before he left the house and spent the rest of the night thinking of her, a whole night, just pacing in the town and thinking of her until he came back and found her waiting out on the porch drunk.

The last thought sobered Rick. He was right. She was right. It was a mistake. He should’ve never kissed her back. She was drunk. Her emotions were having havoc on her, and Rick had advantaged on them. He should’ve just left.

Amanda had feelings for him, desiring him, but last night was a slip of lust and alcohol. Rick added it to the list of the things he needed to accept.

Rick slipped into the silent empty room and peeling off his clothes, he went to the shower. He needed to put himself back together. He still had responsibilities. The situation with Pete Anderson was escalating.

He needed to talk with Carol. See what they’d managed to dig out yesterday. The man was going to be a problem, Rick was feeling it deep in his stomach. The asshole stood between him and his children, and even though the man hadn’t still uttered a word, it still made him feel like Judith’s secret hang above his head like the Sword of Damocles. Rick didn’t like the sentiment.

 Leaving the bathroom, he put on another clean set of shirt and jeans before he left the house again for his morning patrol. Outside on the porch, he zipped his suede jacket up to his neck, checking to control if anyone from both houses was up. There was no one, and Rick kept his gaze ahead, not rolling it upwards toward the other’s house attic.

No.

He circled the walk clockwise like usually did, first starting with the gate post, then walked between the platforms.

They had three platforms now that gave them the heights and an open, clear vista that surrounded their grounds. The tree lines at the east that opened to the woods were still their weakest point. They had a clear sight of the road. Once Amanda and Abraham put the townspeople more into shape, they could have more shifts, could manage to put their grounds under better surveillance with outside patrols. Nothing was going to sneak up on them again. Nothing.

Yet, Rick needed to think as if they would. They still couldn’t afford not to think ahead. His list was far from away to be complete. The town still needed safe houses, fully stocked and loaded. They needed to figure out evacuation and contingency plans, a way to clear off the town undetected if things went south. Everyone, even children needed to know what they should and what they shouldn’t do when shit happened.

It was hovering on the horizon, Rick could feel it, too. The impending storm, waiting to hit the shore. People mostly called him paranoid now, just like his dossier claimed at the first sight, but no one could say he wasn’t right. No. That was why Rick was here.

Alexandria was relatively quiet. Spencer was on the gate duty again with one of Aiden’s men. They gave each other a quick half tilt of heads bypassing, but nothing more.

Rick trekked back to the house.

Amanda still had to be in the house. They hadn’t left yet, but Rick needed to talk to Carol and her about Jessie Anderson. If he didn’t, he would’ve kept away his distance. Amanda wouldn’t have wanted to see him again right now. Hell, even Rick didn’t want to see her right now, he wasn’t a masochist, but he still needed to know.

He found them inside the kitchen. Carl and Beth were with them, Judith in her highchair as Amanda and Carol perched on their stools across them. Glenn was sitting with them, too, but Rick didn’t see Daryl and Joan. Which wasn’t a surprise; they must’ve left for the woods in the early morning as it was the best time for foraging.

Even if anyone had noticed that Rick didn’t come back home last night, no one said it aloud. Her head bowed, Amanda was gazing at her bowl then her eyes flicked upward toward him, and caught his gaze.

They exchanged a brief look, and somehow she still could understand why he came back. Rick saw it clearly in her eyes. He felt a pang in his chest so deeply, he almost hitched out a breath. How they could understand each other this quickly, this easy with only a half look when it wasn’t about them, but screwed up entirely when it was?

What was exactly changing? Where were they fucking up?

Rick had no idea. He even didn’t know where to begin. He thought if he were open with her, if he opened himself, things would’ve become better, but it still hadn’t helped. He wasn’t entirely open and honest, he knew it, but he had all but confessed that he wanted to pass the rest of his life with her. Each night, each morning.

“Carl, Beth—” Her voice broke over his musings. “Go to the armory and get your weapons,” she ordered her younglings, sending them off.

The teenagers sent them a look, also understanding that they were being sent off. Beth’s eyes drew together, but Carl leaped down on the floor and urged her with his elbow. “C’mon, let’s find Clarice and Ron.”

“No gun for Clarice. She only takes a hunting knife.”

Carl nodded as they left. Carol turned to her. “Is it good to take her out without a gun?” the older woman questioned.

“I’ll be with her—” Amanda replied coolly. “The shooting class hasn’t started yet. She doesn’t know how to handle a gun. I don’t want bullets ricocheting around us.”

 Rick took the seat Carl had relieved. “I’ll start the lessons ASAP—” Rick remarked. Amanda nodded with the same detached coolness, her professionalism mask on. Despite his best determination, though, his gaze lingered a second longer on her neck, catching the sight of his mark under her jawline close to her ear where Rick had bit her. It was mostly covered now with her half-up ponytail along her neck, barely visible. Anyone else wouldn’t have caught it, but Rick knew where to look.

His body tensing, the sight made him stir in his jeans, but Rick forced himself to still, the way they’d been last night coming back to him, their passion, the feel of her flaming heat around his bare cock. His self-control almost snapped when she noticed his lingering look, too, and frowned.

“What did you talk to Jessie Anderson?” Rick asked, his voice coming out hoarse as he contained himself and locked the images away.

Glenn turned to look at Carol, too, waiting for the answer. Rick had found the younger man yesterday and told him what he had started suspecting after his talk with Beatrice, telling him to be on alert.

“Nothing truly,” she admitted with a head shake. “We tried to start a conversation after the book club, but she dodged us expertly.”

“She does it regularly—” Amanda’s eyes were cast down as Carol went on, picking up a thread from the cloth platter in front of her. “How did go with Beatrice?”

Amanda’s eyes darted up at him, but Rick kept them on Carol, keeping his voice as bare as his face before he started recounting his talk with the former socialite.

“Beatrice doesn’t know much. They didn’t date long, and I think he managed to hold himself because of her family. Beatrice mentioned Jessie came from a lower-middle-class family. They met in college, but they weren’t in the same circles.” Rick continued, telling them what Beatrice had told him during their dinner when Rick had probed her more.

It made sense for the predator behavior. Jessie was poor, a college student with low income trying to shuffle through life, possibly being seduced with the power and riches of his surname, and Beatrice was emotionally vulnerable as she had herself confessed. Different yet the same, they were both easy prey for the likes of Pete Anderson.

“Jessie.” He concluded, giving Carol an open look, Amanda still looking down at the platter quietly. “We need her, Carol.”

“She won’t crack up easily,” Carol replied. “Some women prefer to be abused in secret instead of tarnishing their public image.” She paused for a second before added, “Some people also can’t stand being thought of weak.”

Rick understood the words, he’d seen so many times before self-sufficient women withdrawing their complaint even after coming to Sheriff’s department with a black eye or split lips, even when they didn’t have to. Rick had always felt helpless watching them go, the notion filling him with righteous fury.  He always wanted to help them, but even then Rick knew no one really could be saved as long as they didn’t want to be rescued.

His eyes cut over to Amanda with the last thought, but her face was expressionless. She was still trying to hold herself passive, but Rick could sense her distress underneath. He wished to keep her out of this, but he couldn’t do that anymore, and Rick needed her to deal with this as much as he needed Carol.

They needed to crack up Jessie Anderson. Rick had to find dirt on Pete Anderson. Then—then…. what?

What was he going to do?

As Rick asked himself the question, he understood he didn’t have a clear answer. There was a part of him that wanted to get rid of the drunk asshole, just be done with him, that sword of Damocles dangling above his head, but if he did it, he would’ve put himself in a hard and rock place. Deanna would never let him…deal with her surgeon, and Amanda—no.

Amanda hadn’t even let him hurt the fool priest. Father Gabriel still lived while Maggie didn’t, and the main reason for that was because Amanda hadn’t wanted any more death that night. Rick had stopped because she’d asked—no, had ordered him to stop. You won’t touch him.

“Joan—” Rick asked, turning his mind to more practical concerns. The doctor’s biggest leverage was being the town’s only surgeon. If Joan became a competitor, the asshole would need to put himself back together. “How is her training going?”

“He holds back—” Amanda spoke, her head snapping up, a fire in her voice as she finally let her anger shown over her face. “He doesn’t show her anything. Joan tries to teach herself from the books they found. I’m gonna bring a walker to her today to practice better.”

Rick frowned. “Why didn’t she tell us before?” Amanda shrugged. “We need to speak with Deanna.”

Carol interrupted. “No. Not yet. Let it go like that for a little while. I told Joan to study amputation, bullet wounds, internal bleeding, and such first. We bring in Deanna after we cracked up Jessie.”

Rick jerked his head in a brief nod.

Amanda slid down from her stool. “I need to go—” she announced, her eyes looking at everywhere but him again. Glenn followed him. “I came with you. Yesterday Johnsons’ made a complaint about David Robinson’s using their lawnmower without permission then left it in their backyard.”

Rick gave out a small smile at the younger man, seeing him speaking in full sentences. He’d seen him yesterday mowing the older couples’ lawn—what was left of them, too. Amanda and Glenn left the kitchen and Rick heard the outside door closing a few seconds later.

He walked to Judith then and checked her forehead. “How’s she?”

“Better in the morning. She didn’t sleep well again last night.”

Rick nodded. “Sorry. I—I—” His eyes on his baby girl, he trailed off, but he could feel Carol’s eyes behind his back.

“I’m a bit afraid to ask—” Carol started from his behind, “But where were you, Rick?”

Twisting aside to give her a look, Rick admitted then. “I went to dinner to Beatrice.”

Carol let out a sigh. “I didn’t stay with her—” Rick corrected, turning to face her fully. “I stayed with Amanda.”

“Ah.”

“I walked around the town until midnight. I wanted to cool down myself,” he started explaining. “She was there out on the porch. Drunk. Angry. We fought. Then we kissed.” He paused, letting out a sigh himself too, bowing his head. “Then we went up to her room.”

Her hand waved over the breakfast remains that were left on the counter. “I assume you didn’t have the breakfast together, eh?”

“No. I did my own walk of shame,” he clipped starkly. “She didn’t want me to stay.” Despite his best efforts, his resentment and bitterness leaked into his curt words, a sudden urge to throw something off over the countertop finding him.

Rick clenched his fingers, pushing it away from him. He wasn’t like Pete Anderson. He wasn’t like Gorman. He could control himself. He wasn’t like them.

“You sound angry—” Carol observed as Rick gazed down on the island’s countertop, trying to keep himself contained, but snapped his head up as soon as Carol spoke. Carol was just eyeing him carefully.

“The woman I love—” he spoke aloud the words once more, his voice still curt but clear, no hesitance in his tone, “just treated me as a drunken quickie that she wanted to get rid of at the first light in the morning,” he bit off. “Of course, I am angry.”

She frowned. “Did you tell her that? How you felt?”

“Yeah. She said back it was a mistake.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you sure if it was what she said?” she asked, giving him an inspective look.

“Yeah. I am sure, Carol—” Rick answered. “She was quite deliberate.” He paused, his curt bitterness turning to an icy dryness. “Amanda is a smart girl. She doesn’t want to play with fire.”

“Yet she got jealous of you, Rick.”

Rick shook his head. “I’m not saying she doesn’t have feelings for me, Carol. I know Amanda. I know she does. I know she cares about me. I know she wants me. She desires me. But she doesn’t want to be with me.”

“You should give her time,” Carol replied kindly, taking a step closer, her voice dropping a tone down, “It’s not easy for her—”

“And you think it’s for me?” he almost shouted, cutting her off.

 Judith made a soft cry at his rising voice. Rick half closed his eyes, bringing his fingers at the bridge of his nose. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, bowing his head. A headache was coming from the back of his eyes, Rick felt it closing in on him, pounding inside his brain.

Giving him a more assessing look, Rick caught it out with the corner of his eyes, Carol went to hush down Judith. Her hand coddling Judy’s soft baby hair, the older woman’s blue eyes narrowed again. “What’s happening, Rick?” she asked before she remarked sternly. “I know you. This’s not only about Amanda.” Rick stayed silent. “Is it about Pete Anderson, too?”

His head snapped up at her, Rick stared at her. “Ah.” Carol sighed aloud deeply, reading his silence affirmative. “I knew you’ve started taking this personal.” She shook her head. “What happened?”

“Judith. He knows about Judith.”

Her eyes narrowed again as they darted down at his baby girl.

“Her blood test,” Rick went on slowly, holding the stool in front of him, almost propping himself. “I went to him to make Judith’s blood test.” He paused. “She’s B Positive. I’m A Positive, Lori was O Positive.”

Rick let the words sink in. Rick always suspected everyone from their original group also knew about Judith’s parentage even though no one had uttered a word much like him. Carol swallowed lowly. “D-did you know?”

Rick shook his head. “No, not really. I suspected it, but Lori said she’s mine no matter what, and I accepted it.” He made another pause, his eyes moving to his baby girl, and shaking his head again a little. “She’s mine, Carol, my daughter. Lori wanted it to be that way. Nothing can change that.”

There was a look in Carol’s eyes as she regarded him, but she asked, “What did the doctor do?”

“Nothing—” Rick admitted.

Carol’s eyes squinted again. “And what did you do, Rick?”

“I told him if he ever utters a word to anyone, I’d cut off his throat.”

A subsided sigh fell out of her lips. “I don’t trust that man, Carol.” Another heat found him, everything he’d unburied about the man coming to him again. “He’s unstable. Judith isn’t gonna be a bargaining chip in his hands.”

“Did he try something?”

“No—” he admitted again with another small head shake. “Not yet. But I know, he will. When he feels cornered, I know he’s gonna try to use her against me.”

With a nod, also Carol admitted. “Yeah.” She paused again, her eyes finding him. “Amanda doesn’t know, right?” Rick jerked his head. Carol gave him a look before she openly declared too, “You have to tell her. She needs to know.”

Rick jerked his head frustrated. “No! She doesn’t need to know!” his voice almost rose again before Rick took it under control. “She already thinks of me as a monster she should stay away. A fire she shouldn’t play with. Our stuff is already enough complicated as it is. I’m not adding up to it.”

No.

He couldn’t. What had happened was already bad enough, but it was his burden. Rick had done what he had to. They were too far gone, they couldn’t turn back, not together, so Rick did what he had to, but he still couldn’t tell them. Carl, Judith, Amanda. No.

Carol was looking at him again with that assessing look behind Judith’s chair. “Amanda told me that you wanted to tell me what happened to Lizzie, but she didn’t let you—” she said slowly. “What changed your mind now, Rick?”

The question startled him, but knowing Amanda, it was understandable that she’d never mentioned a word to him about that talk. Instead of answering her, Rick asked back, “When did she say it?”

“After you left to find Aaron’s husband in the barn,” Carol answered coolly. “I asked her.”

“Amanda told me once ignorance is bliss,” he replied after a pause then, thinking on his answer. “That sometimes you think yourself you want to know, but you don’t.”

Rick had thought he was trying to own up his choices, but the truth was that he was trying to clear off his conscience. He couldn’t admit it, but he was. He couldn’t do this to his children to have a clearer conscience, less guilt. This was his mess, his burden to carry, not theirs.

“She was right—” he continued. “Neither my children nor she needs to know about it. I don’t want them to suffer through it.”

“Carl and Judith, perhaps—” Carol countered with an emphatic voice, “but Amanda isn’t your child. This’s escalating. You know how it’s gonna be. You already felt it. Even without knowing the full story, I felt it. Amanda isn’t a fool, sweetheart. I bet she’s already clued in but couldn’t concentrate on because of your stuff. You can’t keep her in the dark indefinitely.”

“I’m fine by now, too.”

Carol sighed another time with a kind smile. “You really don’t want to lose her, don’t you, Rick?”

The answer rose in him so clearly, so without a doubt, the words left his mouth easily. “I want her back, Carol.”

Rick recalled the attic, the stark feeling he had felt, thinking of Amanda living there alone in that fashion. That wasn’t her life. No. She didn’t belong there. “I won’t force her to anything, but I’m not going to shoot myself in the foot, either.”

Carol accepted it with a small nod. Rick bent down to kiss Judy’s head, feeling their sudden discussion about secrets coming to an end, he turned to leave the kitchen.

He had so many things to do. He should find Daryl and prepare to go out to look for spots for the other safe houses. Then he—

“Rick—” Carol called out behind him. Rick turned aside to the woman over the doorway. “She’s afraid of losing you, too.”

Rick hadn’t admitted that he was afraid of losing her irrecoverably, but Carol had still sensed it behind his words. “Even the thought of you with another woman shook her so badly she couldn’t deal with it without getting herself drunk,” she went on. “Don’t lose your hope.”

Rick tilted his head at her, feverishly wishing that beneath her drunken jealousy and the moment of lustful delirium, there was that scare too, a fear of losing him—

The outside door banged loudly, a fisted hand drumming on it continuously. Judith immediately reacted, her soft whimpers started at the loud banging sound, her eyes watering. Rick swept on his heels, something snapping at him—giving him a reason to lash out his pent-up frustration and anger since the morning. Rick saw a tall shadow over the screen door beside the window while he walked to the door.

He grabbed the door’s handle, the drumming still echoing in the house, and yanked it open—and he stared at Pete Anderson.

The man’s face was so flushed, so red, but Rick knew it wasn’t only because he’d been drinking since last night, even though Rick smelled the rancid stench in his breath. “Officer Shepherd took my son out of the woods!”

Despite the man’s current state, there was no slur in his hissing words, no stuttering. Rick clenched his hand into a fist around the door’s handle. “She discussed it with Deanna yesterday, yes—” Rick clipped. “They're cleared out.”

“I didn’t give my permission.”

Rick shook his head. “Officer Shepherd’s responsibility is to clear it out with Deanna. She’s got many duties. She can’t check with each parent personally whenever she takes someone outside,” Rick argued, trying to keep himself calm enough. “She’s not a babysitter.”

The man’s face turned even redder. He opened his mouth but taking a step out to the porch beside the doctor, Rick tried to reason with him. The town's stupid resistance to teach them how to survive was making him all furious, but Rick still tried to keep himself in check.

“Look—” His arm reached out, not touching him as he leaned in, but pointing in the air between them. “Your kid needs to learn it properly. They all need. Amanda wouldn’t take him out if she didn’t see he would manage—” His…gentle words were cut off with a bark.

“I don’t care what she saw!” the man hissed, and Rick almost punched him in the face. “Ron stays in. Jessie doesn’t go to the classes. And you—” he spat, taking a step closer to Rick, his voice dropping further. “You stay away from Beatrice. You stay away from my family.”

“Beatrice isn’t your family—” Rick clipped back, standing motionlessly, his eyes fixated on his.

Any other man would've flinched under his cold stern look, but Pete Anderson just shook his head. “She is—” he spat. “Because I say so.” His look found him, too as he took a step even closer to Rick. “I stay away from your family, sheriff, don’t circle them, don’t go to them to talk. But if you don’t, I won’t stay away from yours, either. Do you understand?”

Rick closed in the little distance between them, almost stepping on his feet, his voice barely audible when he hissed back, his eyes still glued on the fucking sonofabitch. “Are you threatening me?”

Pete Anderson didn’t back down. “Yes. I do believe I am.” He paused, staring back at him in their gazing contest as Rick grabbed his machete's red handle. “What are you going to do, uh? Cut off my throat? Before you cut my vocal cords?” the man taunted with a smirk. Rick's fingers clenched around the hilt. “Go on. Try it.”

“Rick—” Carol’s agitated voice suddenly reached over them as Judith’s soft cries as the older woman scurried over to him with a panic look over her face, holding the crying Judith in her arms, “Is everything okay?” She stopped beside the door, looking at them frightened.

“Oh my god—doctor…is it—oh my god—” she sobbed in a breath as Rick stared at her, twisting his neck, taking a step backward from the sonofabitch, “Did something happen to anyone? Joan? Daryl?”

Her lips trembling, Carol started crying as Judith started along with her. Pete Anderson looked at them, taking steps away from them, too, more startled than Rick. “No—” he uttered out. “No. They’re okay. Everyone is okay.” He paused as Carol cried silently while Judith hollered her baby cries. “Just talking to Sheriff.”

Carol looked at the man with teary eyes. “You made the baby so afraid, sir—” She berated the asshole, bouncing Judith in her bosom to calm her down. “Rick?” She turned to him, holding up Judith to pass into his arms.

Rick dutifully took his baby girl, turning around to walk in as Carol closed the door. “Have a nice day, doctor.”

In the corridor, they stared at each other silently between Judith's cries until his baby girl hushed down. Rick passed a hand over her forehead again and saw her fever rising further.

Carol took Judy from him again, shaking her head at him. “You need to keep your cool, Rick—” she berated as they walked back into the kitchen.

“Did you hear what he said?” H-he threatened me. He said—”

“He wanted you to start a fight—” Carol cut him off. “Provoked you to make you attack him in public. Out on the porch in front of everyone. In open daylight.”

His jaw clenched, as Rick admitted he’d been played too. “Do as he says—” Carol suddenly declared, words clipped in an order, settling Judith into her chair as her cries softened.

“Stay away from him. He’s taken this personal, too, and he’s cleverer than you’ve given him credit for,” she continued, putting a wet hand towel on Judith’s forehead, smelling vinegar, her eyes raised to his. “Don’t make the same mistake. We need a plan before we act.”

 

Notes:

So here it is... Carol finally learning about Judith's secret, and Rick vs Pete finally starting for real as Amanda leaves for another patrol after heated sex, Rick having his 'I wanna fuck you like an animal' theme again, lol. I would've made another loooong author note here for this chapter and about the themes I've been playing with since the beginning for Amanda and Rick, and especially on Rick and his views regarding Judith and about his desire to keep it quiet, but really, I'm so tired to do it now, so, I hope to hear from you this time instead.

Until the next time...

Chapter 30: 'They're here, Rick'

Summary:

When Amanda and Aiden's team come across a lost stranger in the woods on their patrol outside with the teenagers, they decide to help him.

Notes:

Surprise, again :) I'm on holiday, so finished editing another chapter. Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Are you ready?” Amanda asked, assessing the teenagers carefully, giving them a critical eye that was mostly lingering on Clarice.

Clarice had never come to their classes wearing her school uniform, but sometimes the teenage girl worried Amanda. She checked her shoes to make sure they were sturdy boots that would handle shuffling through the woods.

Both Clarice and Ron had trekking boots adorning their feet, Amanda gladly took note. Aside from Clarice, they all had their handguns like she’d instructed, a pair of knives, one fixed at the belt, the other around their ankles as backup, Amanda had personally picked up for them from the armory. The armory had a nice collection of knives and blades that were left behind from the military, and much like everything else, they put them to good use.

She had her own pair of knives, her hunting knife, and her old trusty boot service knife, with her Glock in her holster, another folding pocketknife in her left front pocket, and a Swiss army knife Aiden had gifted her as a peace offering at their first working out session.

Michonne’s deadly finesse blade was swung across Carl’s back, with his hunting knife and Beretta. Beth was in the same fashion, minus the katana blade, and Aiden and his men were carrying their rifles, as well.

Amanda had only opted to have her handgun as she wanted her focus to stay on her younglings as they patrolled.

“All right—” she said next to Aiden and Spencer in front of the gate beside their vehicle when she deemed them ready, weapon-wise. They had chosen the old RV Aaron had brought them to the town, not wanting to be divided into separate vehicles.

 “Clarice, Ron, you flank beside my side. Beth, Carl—” She gestured them with her head. “Three steps ahead of me.” She wandered her eyes between the teenagers again. “No funny stuff. You move when I say move, stop when I say stop. You won’t even take a breath if I say hold it. Do you understand?”

They bobbed their heads loosely, their heads dipped checking themselves, looking disinterested with what she was saying. Amanda fixed at them a stern look. “I WON’T repeat myself!” she snapped, her voice rising, “Do you understand?

“Yes, ma’am!” They all barked out at the same time, looking back at her, Clarice even adding a little nod, quickly stepping at her left side.

Satisfied, Amanda turned to Aiden. “Aiden, you take the point with Nicholas?”

Her co-team member nodded. “Yeah sure.”

“Richards and Jeff take our six.”

They nodded, too. “Aye.”

“Okay, let’s move out.” She moved to the passenger seat of the RV as Aiden took the driver seat.

Clarice laughed silently as she settled on the side of the couch in the backside, holding on to Carl’s forearm as they sat down together, Amanda caught out of the corner of her eyes. “I never got in this RV before—” she whispered at Carl, an excited tone mixed with laughter in her voice.

Amanda almost told her to shut it off. This wasn’t a damn school trip, but even after her outburst, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Their excitement for finally being taken outside was contagious. Even Beth looked as if she was enjoying herself while she sat with Ron. Nicholas and his gang were rounded in the back around the small portable table, a deck of cards already out on the table.

As they passed through the gate, Amanda turned aside backward. “Did you talk with your parents, right?” she asked again as they moved away from the town.

Ron and Clarice nodded, their looks fixated outside, checking out everything, trying to see everything.

Amanda tried to imagine how it would’ve been living inside in the same place for two years, behind the walls trapped even though Alexandria lay on the grounds over sixty acres. The complexity of the town was something you stopped thinking about after becoming habituated to it, but a cage was still a cage no matter how big it was.

Ron turned to her as they passed over their makeshift roadblock at the intersection of the entrance of the side road that was connected to I-395. “That’s the roadblock?” the teenager asked.

Amanda nodded, her eyes skipping over to the cars, the five dusted metal heaps that locked the intersection. They all were where they had left them. They couldn’t make outer patrols regularly because of Deanna’s insistence that only volunteers would take up the patrols, and despite Amanda’s hope that they would have been, not even a fifth of the residents had come forth for the job.

She hoped after their classes people started became…more willing to do some work because she wasn’t sure how long Rick could let their frightened, lazy asses go on like this. In this instance, Amanda agreed with him. They needed more manpower, and these people really needed a wake-up call.

But it wasn’t a problem Amanda needed to work on. No. They all their jobs, and hers was to train and prepare these people. The rest belonged to Rick and Deanna. Her…venturing out for deeper waters for leading had withered away with Abraham’s hope for a better world. Wake up in the morning, fight the undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep with two eyes open, rinse and repeat…

Amanda chased away the words as soon as they appeared in her mind, forcing herself to stay focus on her job. On her people. Her headache was still faintly buzzing in the back of her head, too, but Amanda wasn’t going to think about that, either.

Nope.

Definitely wasn’t going to think about that, neither the soreness between her legs or that odd feeling in her ass. Nope.

It was a surprise to see him in the kitchen again before they had left. Amanda had honestly thought she would’ve only seen a couple of glances from him for a couple of days as they usually did after their every fight. So Amanda was really surprised to see him coming back knowingly when she was inside his house for breakfast, but when Rick gave her that cop look of his, half reluctant but determined with a keen intent, she understood why he had come even before he’d started questioning Carol.

It was nothing to do with her, but it was still weird, Rick coming to question Carol about Jessie this early, not even wanting to wait until she left. It all was indicating an urgency that Amanda couldn’t still pinpoint right, but she couldn’t have concentrated on it much because another dubious voice was asking another question in her mind while Rick talked.

He sounded as if he’d questioned Beatrice. He’d said yesterday he was going to talk to her, and perhaps last night just had been about that, just like Carol and Amanda had gone undercover to the book club to crack up the woman, Rick had gone to Beatrice to make her talk.

She didn’t know if she was trying to convince herself or excuse him, but if that was his aim why didn’t he say anything? Granted, Amanda wouldn’t have still enjoyed it, but it would’ve been at least better than the alternative.

She still didn’t have any rights, she knew that, too, but Rick always tried to justify his actions, try to explain himself, try to make her understand him whenever they clashed.

When he sent Carol away from the prison, he came to find her and explained himself. After Lizzie, even when she was at his throat, he did everything he could to justify himself to her. When they fought before Terminus, he tried to explain. When they bickered in the barn, Amanda accusing him of always doing things on his convenience before she exploded and yelled at his face in front of everyone, he still tried to explain himself.

If that was truly his objective, that he went to question Beatrice further, wouldn’t have said it? But he hadn't, and that meant, he either hadn’t only gone to her to make her talk, or Rick had just stopped caring what she could think of him.

Like she was one of—one of those other countless people that Rick didn’t give a shit about what they thought about him.

The thought was so absolutely fucking terrible that Amanda almost wished that that had been the other case, that Rick went to Beatrice because he was…interested, because he wanted to know her better, then got furious with Amanda because she threw him out of the room in the morning.

Because it then meant that he still cared about her, right? Why else he would get angry? No. No, he wouldn’t have been that angry in the morning if Amanda was just a pity fuck. And Rick would have done that? Be that devious, using a woman’s vulnerability to crack her up? Rick could be a cold-hearted bastard when he wanted, but it still didn’t sound like him.

“Can we see it from the platforms?” Ron’s inquiry cut off her confused musings. Amanda cursed herself for letting her mind stray in the worst way possible in the worst time.

She had to stay focused. She had taken three teenager’s responsibilities. They weren’t in imminent danger, but she couldn’t keep going on like this. “No, unfortunately—” she replied, craning her neck backward to track the sight of the distancing roadblock. “We can’t see it in detail, but we still have a clear vista.”

“It’s so quiet—” Clarice remarked in a small voice, gazing out from the window, the side of her head half-pressed on it. “The way everyone talks, I always think outside is roaming with…rotters.”

Amanda gazed outside too. The girl was right. It was still too quiet, a few lingering dead on the roadside, or already dead or almost dead crawling over the ground. Aside from the time they'd gone to look for seeds, there were no herds above a dozen they had encountered after they came to Alexandria.

The woods were a bit worse, more of the dead roaming, but the urban side of the zone was still the same as Rick first had noticed it. It was as if a fairy godmother had laid a protective spell on the town. Some people would have thought it was their good fortune, but not Amanda. Nor Rick on that matter.

“Usually it is—” Amanda admitted. “The closer you get to the cities, it becomes worse. They herd up, drawing to each other. Make herds.”

“Beth said you survived almost two years in downtown Atlanta—” Ron commented, turning to her. Aiden’s eyes skipped to her too as Amanda gave a brief nod.

“Yeah. We did. Me and my coworkers. We were holed up in a big hospital.”

“Wasn’t it harder?”

Amanda shrugged. “It’s hard everywhere. Even here in Alexandria.” She twisted toward them. “Never take anything for granted. Just because you’ve had it easy until now because of luck or fate or something else doesn’t mean it will always be like this. That’s why you need to be ready all the time. We are not safe. Never forget that.”

She didn’t need to say that to Carl and Beth, but she wanted Ron and Clarice to understand it clearly. Aiden’s look shifted towards her again, much like the rest of his team, but they stayed silent.

Clarice laughed slightly. “Well, I guess I understand why they don’t want to come to your class, Officer Shepherd—” the teenage girl slowly mused out. “It’s gonna be hard to maintain the book clubs and poker nights if they accept that.”

“It’s the world they need to accept—” Beth suddenly spoke, cutting between them. “And have the beauty whenever they can.” Her eyes drew to Amanda’s as she stayed twisted aside to look back. “There’s still beauty in the world. We just have to look for it.”

Amanda smiled at the girl. “I like that—” Clarice said, her hand crawling towards Carl’s.

Ron noticed it too, and his gaze wavered from Beth toward their slowly linking fingers. He didn’t comment, but his jaw clenched. Beth pretended not to notice it as Amanda turned ahead.

Aiden stopped under a road sign. “Okay. We came until here at our last patrol. We’re about nine miles out northeast.” He shook the map that Rick had circled to pinpoint the area that he wanted to be patrolled. “We can check out further, look around.”

Clarice stood up, half bent to still look at outside. “We go in the woods, right?” the girl asked.

“Yeah.”

They stepped out of the RV, and as soon as they did, Ron and Clarice fell beside at each side, Carl and Beth going three steps in front of them just like Amanda had instructed.

Satisfied, she nodded at herself inwardly as Aiden and Nicholas took their point, their rifles slinging beside at their side, ready to be grabbed at the first sight of the trouble. Nicholas’s shots were still straying off, but he had at least stopped playing dumb.

Jeff and Richards behind them, they moved out in the woods.

After days spent inside the walls, the woods felt…felt…Amanda truly didn’t know. It still felt odd. It wasn’t as worst as her first supply run with Beth after coming to Alexandria, but the feeling was still there.

The usual sounds of the woods were with them, too. She listened to the wind rustling through the branches, the fallen leaves crunching beneath their heavy boots, deep echoes of the real habitats of the woods surrounding them in the distance. Their scope was pretty simple today, just like Aiden had surmised, a routine patrol, but Amanda had to find a relatively fresh corpse to bring it back to Joan.

Amanda had talked to Aiden before they left, showing the man the blanket she’d packed inside her backpack. Picking a wet trail of rabbits and squirrels, they followed the tracks until they found almost a dried creek. The fall was a dry one this year, the weather as cold as it had become, was still dry.

It barely rained, and Amanda knew what that meant in the woods. It also was a problem as Alexandria’s water reserves were tied to the pond in the grounds which was fed by the many creeks and streams that were united to the Potomac River.

“In the woods, we usually follow the water supply—” Amanda started explaining silently as they trekked beside the half muddy soil a few yards away from the bank, “as the survival in the wild highly depends on it. If you ever get lost in the woods, always find a stream or a river and follow it.”

“But be careful—” she continued, shifting her gaze between them in a warning tone. “The others do the same. Any establishment, any camp in the woods has to be connected to a water supply.”

“Like how Washington was founded on Potomac river?” Clarice questioned, her head turning slightly aside to look at her.

Amanda nodded. “Every city or town in history always started in the vicinity of the water supplies,” she agreed. “Most of the time they were also used for transportation and as borders, too. When Rome was built, there was a river called Rubicon. It was the border of Rome’s autonomy. The Generals had to leave their armies behind it to cross the river to get to Rome, or else it was a declaration of war to the Republic.”

“That’s why it’s called crossing the Rubicon?” Ron asked, his tone holding a startled interest.

Amanda nodded again, recalling Rick’s words to her in the woods before he grabbed her hand and made them walk into the cabin hand to hand. “Yes. It’s said Caesar made that remark when he crossed the river with his army to march to Rome. We crossed the Rubicon, there’s no going back.”

Clarice laughed silently. “We crossed the Rubicon today, eh?” she said, her eyes wandering around. “Crossed our boundaries.” Her hand wrapped around her knife.

“It’s a start.” Amanda gestured the trails over the river bank with her head. “Be careful,” she warned again. “People or the dead aren’t only dangers you should be aware of. Wild animals also need to survive. When you follow their trails, you also follow them.”

Clarice suddenly perked up. “I know. Carl showed me a trail when he took me out.” She paused as Carl halted a step as they walked three steps ahead of them. “He said they start looking for water much like us the first thing in the morning.”

“Generally, yes.”

“What can we eat?” Ron asked as they passed a bush that was topped with berries, his hand slightly touching over the prickly green branches.

“Most berries are okay, but—” Amanda went on explaining, but Aiden suddenly stopped with Nicholas, his fist up in the air, his spine tensed.

They all followed the silent order, as spinning around herself, Amanda surveyed around, her hand unfastening her holster. She couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear anything, but something felt off. She felt it. Aiden walked to her silently with Nicholas. Amanda stared at the men.

“There’s someone at the riverbank ahead of us—” he whispered, answering her silent question as he handed Amanda a binocular, pointing toward the west with his other hand.

Taking the bino from him, Amanda quickly swept in that direction and checked it. Four hundred or so yards ahead of them, Amanda spied a bulging figure of someone, male or female couldn’t be discriminable as the figure was clad in a red poncho with its hoodie covering the head.

The person seemed to be alone as he trudged along the bank, stumbling on feet, trying to reach the river. The movements were clumsily, and Amanda wasn’t surprised when he tripped over some roots and fell on the ground on the face.

“What are we going to do?” Aiden asked her as Amanda lowered the bino.

The question almost surprised her as much as seeing a lone stranger, seemingly lost. The way Aiden had asked it to her sounded like more than asking her opinion. What lay underneath was speculative, but Amanda wasn’t sure if she wanted to think on that right now. The command structure between them was still foggy as Amanda was still a guest on his team, but the question was still unmistakable.

Her eyes turned toward the figure again, the red haze at the edge of her sight. “We don’t make the recruitments,” she slowly spoke out, in her mind suddenly screams of the help of Father Gabriel echoing. The man wasn’t screaming. “It’s Aaron’s job.”

Carl and Beth had fallen back beside them as Jeff and Richards had walked ahead. “So we leave him there?” Aiden sounded in doubt as much as he looked.

Amanda’s expression shifted as she felt torn. There wasn’t any screaming for help, yeah, but Amanda was aware of the likeness of survival alone in the woods if you weren’t someone like Daryl Dixon.

A good man found me in the woods, brought me to his home. Amanda made up her mind. She still was a good person. “We go check him and ask him the questions.”

His look confused, Aiden looked back at her. “What questions?”

“That’s how we decide to take in people,” she explained. “We ask the strangers we come across three questions then see their answers.”

Aiden hesitated for a moment as Amanda waited, but nodded in the end. “It’s your call. I’m just your escort today.”

She waggled her hand at her cadets. “C’mon, get ready. Clarice, with me. Eyes up, stay alert.”

With that, they slowly approached the stranger as wary and alert she demanded.

The first thing that became clear was its gender. It was a man, face covered with mud and dirt as he still lay down on the muddy soil. His poncho was dirtied as much as his dark jeans and boots, but Amanda couldn’t see any bloodstains over him.

When the man noticed them, he shifted around and slid backward from them towards the edge of the bank, a look of terror crossing his dirtied face as his eyes widened, his hand going over his belt. Amanda gazed at him sternly, waiting for a move, but the attack didn’t come. His hair under the hoodie was tangled with dirt and leaves, much like how theirs had been while they had tried to make it in the woods for weeks.

“Don’t be afraid—” Amanda spoke slowly, raising a hand toward the man. “We won’t hurt you.”

The cries silently fell over his cheeks, making a clean path over his dirt-stained skin. “Are you hurt?” she asked further.

He shook his head. “Please—please, don’t hurt me—” His voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible. Amanda wondered how long he hadn’t been talking or drinking. Or eating.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” She signaled Aiden. “We can give you food and clean water.” He jerked away hurriedly like a beaten dog as Aiden took a step forward, opening his backpack.

“You don’t have to be afraid. We won’t hurt you,” Amanda repeated. “My friend is going to leave them on the ground. So you can pick them up, okay?”

Aiden left a few protein bars, his bottle of water on the ground like Amanda had said, and pulled back. The man eyed them suspiciously, but after a few seconds of hesitation, his hand lunged as he still lay down, and grabbed them.

He quickly hid them under his poncho. Amanda frowned lightly as the man stayed immobile. That wasn’t usually the reaction when hungry and thirsty people were given food and nourishment. At Grady, Amanda had made the first contact with wounded and weak people many times, trying to convince them that they weren’t going to hurt them. But most of the time, they always had to remind them to eat and drink slow and little not to make themselves sick.

And that meant… Realization dawning on her, Amanda regarded the man closely. “Do you have other people?” she asked. “Are you saving for them?”

A nod followed. “Came to find water. We don’t have any.”

Amanda nodded. “Where are they?”

His hand pointed toward the north. “How many people do you have?”

“Two. Anne and Enid.” The man paused, giving her a begging look. “Enid is fifteen. Please, help us.”

“We will—” Amanda replied, getting closer, but this time the man didn’t bulge away. Amanda crouched in front of him. “But I need you to answer a few questions for me.” He bobbed his head in a quick nod.

“How many walkers have you killed?”

His hand clutched his waistline again under his poncho. “T—two.”

“How many people have you killed?”

His eyes widened, terrified, but he shook his head. “Answer it—” Amanda prompted. Her voice was still low, and kind, but firm. They had to know.

“O—one.”

She wondered likeness of it, then where they’d been holed up, because if it was true then it meant that they had some kind of protection. “Why?”

“I—I had to. T-they were hurting Enid.”

Amanda stood up, understanding the words, something making her furious. It was always the same. Weak ending up as prey to sonofabitches. Not this time. She looked at the man. “What’s your name?”

“Liam.”

“Liam—” Amanda said, “We’re going to help you, and Enid and Anne, but I still need you to answer a few more questions,” she questioned further. Something wasn’t adding up, and Amanda needed to know. “Where were you before? In a town?”

Much like she’d expected, the man bobbed his head quickly another time. “We came up from there.” He pointed again northeast. “They came one night. Burned our houses.” Her heart beating fast, Amanda understood what was happening. “B-butchered us. Raped women. Killed children.”

“Wolves?” she whispered out breathless. “Did they call themselves Wolves? Wrote it on the walls?”

“I saw them writing Wolves Not Far—” Liam answered as her stomach knotted, a stone dropping deep in it. Aiden and the others were silent beside her, but Amanda heard slow intakes of breaths. Liam pointed at his head. “T-they had a tattoo over their foreheads. A big W.” He gulped, his tears hastening. “Some of them even carved it on their skin.”

Amanda turned aside, her hand almost trembling as she waved it at Aiden. “Aiden, the map.”

Understanding her, fumbling with his backpack quickly, he handed it to her. Amanda quickly spotted Alexandria on the map, then Shirewilt Estate up in the northeast, and crouched again in front of Liam. “Can you show me where your town was?”

After a few seconds of studying the map, the man pointed a spot between Alexandria and Shirewilt Estate. Standing up, rolling up the map, Amanda could only think one thing. “We’ve got a problem.”

# # #

They had many, many problems, but first things came first. They had to find the other two before they returned to Alexandria. With the last news, Amanda and Aiden had decided to pull the plug on their patrol. They had to talk.

With one look at the map, things became clearer. The Wolves were coming down to the south, in search of more communities to destroy, brutalize, butcher like the animals they were. Without an established community, like the old savage nomads, they didn’t have any other way but to expand further to survive, boarding their horizon. A storm was coming, and they’d better batten the hatches.

Amanda then thought how Rick would take the news, and the thought of it was enough to give her a tremble. He’d been already hard to deal with phantom threats, but with the real proof that his paranoia had been right all along?

Well, Amanda had never thought it was ill-founded, she always knew he was right, but this had turned it into a reality they were going to have to face from one of the many threats they needed to be prepared for.

Still, first things came first.

A rescue mission wasn’t really on her list, but today nothing was going according to her plan. Recruiting three new people or discovering Wolves was coming to the south wasn’t in her plans, either, but they had happened. So she had to improvise.

She supposed they could go back and come again to find the woman and the girl, leaving the teenagers in the town, but that would cause them to lose a lot of time, and Amanda already started to feel like that they’d spent a lot of their luck today.

The place looked relatively calmer. They’d only spotted a couple of the dead. Aiden and Nicholas had put them down silently with swift blade thrusts. Clarice and Ron didn’t look overly preoccupied. Amanda even felt Clarice bursting with a barely contained energy.

She guessed the teenager also didn’t think today would have been like this. Amanda could agree with it wholeheartedly. In the end, Liam had led them to the outer side of the woods up in the north before they crossed a bedraggled backroad and stopped behind a chain-link fence and posts that circled the grounds of what seemed to be a deserted food factory.

Del Arno Foods.

“You took refuge there?” she asked as they surveyed the compound behind the fences.

“Thought there could be food,” Liam nodded with a nod. “But there was no water. I left to find water.”

The factory must have had its water supplies and wells but without maintenance to keep them operational, the valves might have stopped working. In the prison, once or twice every week someone used to go out to fix the water pumps in the pond.

Amanda nodded back silently. “All right. We take them out and leave quickly. I want to return as quick as possible.”

“There’s food?” but Aiden asked, turning to Liam.

The red poncho man nodded. “Yeah. There are cans of food in the trucks. They must have been loading them before they left. The trucks are still there.” He pointed across the deserted backyard of the factory. Amanda saw at the end of the line a few trucks on the loading docks.

But she shook her head. “No. We come back later for food.”

“Amanda—” Beth opposed, but Amanda didn’t hear it. She wasn’t going to have another organic market disaster when they had a fifteen-year-old girl who had never fired a gun before. She was already having qualms about doing this with them but starting a supply run wasn’t going to happen.

 “No,” she stated firmly. “We go in, find them, and get out. Nothing else.” She turned to Liam again. “A’right. Lead the way. Where are they?”

Liam pointed toward the trucks again. “We set up our camp near to them.”

Nicholas quickly cut the wires to make an entrance and they crossed the deserted backyard as quickly as possible. Around the yard, Amanda saw other parked vehicles too, scattered around. She wondered if they were still operational if they had gas. If they weren’t touched since the factory had been deserted, perhaps, they could take them too. The main problem with the vehicles was the fuel as there were many vehicles abandoned but not enough juice to get them rolling on. Why people had left them like this, running off worried her, but she didn’t see any sight of people, dead or alive.

They closed in one of the loading decks between the trucks, three of them in total, the food company’s name running over the trucks’ sides in big, blue letters, some colorful graphics around them like a dusted old Andy Warhol piece.

Surveying the uninhabited vacant area, Amanda lightly tapped the tips of her fingers on the metal of the truck beside her. The feeling found her worse.

Something was odd, she couldn’t pinpoint it, but something wasn’t right. That tingling in her set off as she became more alert, her fingers making another tap, then something answered back.

Light growls.

She stopped tapping, spinning around herself. “Where are they?” she questioned, her right hand already unfastened her holster. She drew it quickly and pointed at Liam.

Aiden and the rest of his team followed her example, even though out of the corner of her eyes, Amanda picked him up slanting at her a confused look. “Where are Anne and Enid?” she rasped out.

“Amanda?” Aiden asked, his rifle directed at the man.

“There’s no food inside the trucks—" she said gruffly, pulling Clarice to her side closer as Beth and Carl slid back to her. “They’re full with rotters.”

“Sorry about this—” Liam remarked, suddenly not looking pitiful at all, but staring at her in the eye evenly as if a switch in him had shifted off. “But I had to find a way to stop them from killing me.”

Cursing at herself, Amanda swore under her breath as men suddenly started coming up from everywhere.

# # #

“Liam, what you’ve brought up for the pack?” the leader, Amanda surmised, asked as he walked closer to the backstabbing red poncho-wearing piece of shit for a man.

Amanda quickly counted more than thirty as they circled them, hands armed with knives or axes or machetes, but no guns. None of them had guns in sight, but they were outnumbered almost five to one, and they had the teenagers. Even thinking of Beth, Carl, Ron, and Clarice—especially Beth and Clarice between these people was making her panic rise further with guilt, her stomach churning, remembering the last time something like this had happened, but Amanda shut it down. It wasn’t the time to get panic and blame herself for this.

The leader was barely in his mid-twenties. His appearance was even worse than Liam; his clogged dark hair that fell over his shoulder was dirty and greasy, his cheeks and leather clothes likewise as if the man hadn’t bathed for a long time. Even in the woods, none of them used to smell that awful with a stench. None of his people were different. They all looked like animals, dangerous wild predators. Over the foreheads, Amanda saw the carved big W letter Liam had mentioned like a branding.

The feral lunatic made a turn and started walking toward them as if Amanda wasn’t pointing a gun at his head. “Stay back—” she warned with her best cop voice, stiff and firm, holding her ground. “I shoot. I’m not bluffing.”

The man stopped, looking at her with mild interest. “They have a community—” Liam supplied, slowly approaching the man. His moves now reminded Amanda of a snake. A backstabbing snake! She cursed at herself again how she had fallen into this trap, how easily she’d been conned before she forced herself again to shut it off.

The young leader of the Wolves turned to Liam. “Really?” His voice was harsh, a rasping tone, but mocking. “Couldn’t have guessed it from the state of their clothes and hair.”

“I’ve proved my worthwhile,” Liam insisted further. “Please, take me in.”

“A wolf is a wolf, the pack is us—” the leader intoned darkly, making a W mark on Liam’s forehead over the filth on his skin. “You’re not one of us, Liam.”

It happened all too quickly. Something glinted in the sunlight, and Amanda spied a small curved blade in the man’s hand before it slit over Liam’s throat. He dropped to the ground, blood spraying out of him.

As they watched it stunned, the leader started advancing on them. Amanda took a step forward, getting Beth and Clarice behind her further, something trembling deeply inside her, panic trying to reign over her, her worst nightmare coming up at her again.

“Let us go—” Aiden said. Amanda didn’t even try. There was no bargaining with these…animals. The proof of that was laying a few feet away from them, bleeding to death, his play couldn’t have saved even him in the end, and in Shirewilt Estate before she had burned the butchered town, giving them a funeral in the only way she could’ve managed.

“Where is your community?” the mad animal asked, but the question wasn’t directed to Aiden, as if the man had decided Amanda was the leader, and it felt like she was stabbed in the chest with that curved blade.

Quickly, she forced herself to assess the situation again. She wasn’t going to let them hurt the teenagers. No. Never. Even if she had to rip those animals’ throats with only her teeth like Rick had had to, she was going to do it!

She tried to figure out how many of them she could take down before they closed in on her and apprehended her. They had the numbers, but Amanda, Aiden and the rest of them had the firepower by the judging of the lack of guns in their advisories’ hands. They couldn’t trust that, but she didn’t see any other option. They couldn’t do protecting and fighting at the same time, and as they were circled, they had to cut a clean path through to retreat. Even though Carl and Beth might take care of themselves, she still had to cover for Ron and Clarice, and that was a big if. If it was only her and Aiden and his team they would’ve had a better chance, but with the teenagers, no. They needed a distraction. A pretty damn big one.

Steeling herself, Amanda made up her mind. It was time to roll the dice and trust their luck one more time.

Without warning, she twisted aside and fired at the lock of the truck just beside her. There was a moment of shock that made everyone stop and gawk at her, but Amanda didn’t waste time. With a swift kick, she opened the truck’s lid and let the dead out.

Thank god, none of her people hesitated after then. Amanda quickly grabbed Clarice and Ron and threw them aside at the other side of the truck before she fired the other truck’s lock too.

Beth and Carl quickly followed her, gathering her plan. The easy, cool way they had fallen with her almost made her burst into tears from joy even when she knew it was only a byproduct of surviving through many encounters of these kinds. They almost tackled down Jeff and Richards as they withdrew, but thank all things sacred and good, the other two men quickly adapted into her act at the same time.

Aiden and Nicholas came to their sides for the last when the dead began dropping out of the truck. She heard the shouts and growls and snarls just before she heard screams of pain. Poking her head out slightly, Amanda saw dozens of geeks emptying from the big vehicles, staggering down from the ramp excited like sharks that smelled blood in the water.

They started coming towards them, too, and Amanda pushed backward. “Run!”

Amanda thought this part all of her pupils did well.

They sprinted toward the fence, easily jumping over any obstacle they came across. There were still no bullets wheezing over their heads, a miracle Amanda silently prayed in gratitude, but the rotters had started coming from everywhere along with screams of pain.

She quickly spied a glance over her shoulder and saw the carnage she’d created, a sight that would’ve made her sick in any other time, but this time she only wondered how many rotters those damn trucks had inside, then she saw the state of corpses, mutilated, limbs cut off.

Her feet almost halted momentarily when she did, anger and fury blazing in her, making her see red…then she saw a child of ten wobbling toward them, his arms missing.

Vile. It was so vile, so outrageous, bile churning in her stomach, Amanda almost returned and started running back toward them instead of running away, finding them and making them regret ever crossing their paths.

Stopping the thought, Amanda continued running, telling herself later, telling herself her duty was to bring her charges back to Alexandria first. Then—one of the dead almost cut in Clarice’s path, but Carl slashed its head before Amanda put it down.

Carl held the teenage girl’s hand before they started running again, Beth and Ron following them closely. It was just then Amanda heard a scream that she recognized.

She twisted aside and saw Nicholas fighting with two of the dead. One of them was down, trying to claw at his ankle with one hand, missing the other as the second one was trying to bite his neck. The scene was so similar to what Beth had needed to fight through it, the irony chilled her down to her bones for a second before she unfroze and started running to him with Aiden. They were so close to each other, Nicholas couldn’t even grab his rifle.

“Smash the head with your heel!” Amanda screamed.

Nicholas followed the instruction, smashing the head with the hard shell of his boots at the same time Amanda tried to take a shot at the second rotter. But they were constantly moving as they fought, still inches apart from each other, and each time she tried, Amanda didn’t trust herself to pull the trigger. Aiden saw her hesitation, sprinting to his friend.

Lowering her arm with a curse, angry and scared, Amanda followed. The rotting head dived toward Nicholas’s neck again and he raised his arm to block it just as the same time Amanda pulled up her gun again. The sharp teeth sunk into the flesh, Nicholas howling as it tore off a piece of his forearm, blood running over his wound freely…

Desperate, Amanda took the shot before it dove to Nicholas’s neck again.

Aiden quickly gathered him as he closed in on his friend, and started carrying him over to the fence. Amanda took his other side. “Hold on! Hold on!” she yelled at the man groaning with anguish and pain. “We take you out.”

Her head turning, she checked the teenagers as they reached the fence. They ran into the woods, leaving the compound and Amanda made them stop, jumping over a ridgeway to cover themselves.

They supported Nicholas at the ridge as the man grounded with pain, his face twisted on Aiden’s shoulder to muffle his screams as Aiden hugged his friend tightly.

Amanda tilted her head up to find Richards and Jeff. “Stay guard!” she barked at them before turning to Aiden and Nicholas again.

Nicholas’s hand was pressed on his open wound, the red muscle tissue and skin and fat jingling at the edge of the tore off flesh. Ron and Clarice were shocked, staring at him stunned, faces white sheet color, trembling.

“Nick—” Aiden whispered to his friend, before his eyes turned to her, looking desperate.

“Beth, Carl—” she gestured with her head as Beth and Carl got closer to Ron and Clarice to keep them calm. “Hold up,” she told them firmly. “You have to hold up.”

With that, she peered off Nicholas’s hand away from the wound. “You’re gonna be okay—” she rasped at Nicholas with the same firmness, looking straight at his eyes. They all were going to be okay, she was going to make sure of that.

Her eyes squinted, looking at the wound, she steeled herself. “We need to cut it off.”

“WHAT?” Aiden all yelled at her.

Amanda ignored him, the terrified tone in his voice, determination turning her to stone as she twisted to Carl. “Carl, your sword. Quick."

“Amanda, you can’t. We do it in the town—”

Standing up, she cut him off, snitching the katana blade away from Carl. “We don’t have time. We have to do it now.” She clutched the sword’s hilt tightly. “We have to stop the infection before it takes hold. We have to do it now!”

She wasn’t going to lose another person on her watch! Not again!

Nicholas nodded, his tears running. “Do it. Do it.”

She darted her eyes up, toward the men that still covered them at the top of the ridge. “Jeff, Richards, anyone approaches us, dead or alive, don’t hesitate. Get it down.” They had passed the hesitation stage. She flicked her hand towards Beth and Carl.

She hated to do this to them, but there was no other option as well. “Beth, Carl, hold him tight. Aiden, hold his arm.” She clenched her fingers even tighter around the blade as Nicholas stretched out his arm on the dirt road, Aiden holding it, Beth and Carl holding him...

Amanda breathed out. “Clarice, Ron, turn around. Don’t look.”

She raised the blade, bending over Nicholas and stroke down. At the close range, blood sputtered at her, spots of red washing her face, Nicholas hollering, Carl coming to muffle his screams of pain that pierced through the air begging for mercy, screaming her to stop.

Amanda didn’t, but raised the sword again.

# # #

After leaving the house, Rick passed the rest of the morning making rounds in the town. He wanted to clear his head more than before, all of his thoughts and emotions jangling even more erratic after his confrontation with the sonofabitch of a surgeon.

But Carol was right. He needed a plan before he acted. Pete Anderson was acting more devious than Rick had thought. Rick hadn’t thought of it before but given the asshole’s manipulation skills he had used on Beatrice and his wife, Rick shouldn’t have been surprised.

He had tried to provoke Rick into the action this morning. Wanted to portray him unstable in the eye of Deanna, make him and his place in the town questionable. The fact that the asshole had managed to think of too what Rick had been trying to didn’t soothe him a bit.

  That volatile, violent, and uncanny man knowing about his baby daughter still bothered him, but Rick wasn’t going to fall into his game. He could play the hand he was dealt, but this wasn’t the asshole’s show.

Yet, Carol was still right. He had to play this cool. Let them deal with it first. Both Carol and Amanda had a way to reach people, finding their ways in. In the meantime, they would prepare Joan to corner the asshole at the other side.

Rick would play along. Carol and Amanda worked on Jessie. Glenn would take care of Beatrice. Rick also didn’t want to upset Amanda further. Carol must be right about that too. If Amanda really had felt so scared of losing him, then—then—it meant there was still hope for them.

While he trekked towards the pond to stay alone for a while, away from the cluster of the town, Rick thought about it. The notion was filling him with another kind of warmth, the truth was that they were still somehow tangled together even when they weren’t together.

I want her back.

Rick had meant it. He wanted her back. That wasn’t her life. Amanda had to see that. But perhaps, herself. He mulled over the idea, trying to find a way to win her back, get her back without imposing himself on her.

Perhaps he shouldn’t do anything. Sometimes he really didn’t know. Whenever Rick tried to do something, she ran away. But when he let it go, she came back. Perhaps he really shouldn’t be surprised that they fell on the bed last night. Rick went to Beatrice, and she waited out on the porch until he returned. By no means was it healthy, even close to it, but at least she still had cared. For him.

God. Rick wasn’t cut for this. He just—he just wanted to settle down. He knew Amanda also wanted it, so he still couldn’t understand why they were fighting over it. There was a part of him that wondered if this morning would have started differently if they had sex last night slow and sweet like they were making love instead of fucking her like an animal, but how Rick could’ve kept himself restrained, feeling her heat wrapping him when she urged him to go harder.

The memory stirred him as he walked in the grounds, then out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Olivia leaving the armory hurriedly. Rick halted, sensing her panic even from the distance between them.

Olivia usually made the contact with the teams outside the walls as she also manned the radio station in the armory and something lurched his stomach as she saw the woman directly scurrying towards the infirmary’s backyard. Rick ran over to her.

“Olivia!” he shouted before the woman turned around to go to the front, not wanting to face the surgeon again. “Olivia!”

The curvy woman stopped, hearing him. “Sheriff—” the panic in her voice was even worse in the close range as she looked at him at loss.

“What happened?”

“Aiden called in.” Rick felt his stomach coiled once more. “They’re coming in hot.”

“What happened?” he hissed again.

“I—I don’t know. Someone got bitten. Aiden said to prep the infirmary. I’m going to warn the doctor. I—”

Leaving her, Rick sprinted back to the armory. He barged inside, running to the radio station, and yanked it up. He pressed on the talk button. “Amanda!” he called in, almost barking out, his hands trembling. No…No… “Amanda, do you copy?”

Nothing happened to her or Carl, he told himself as he let go of the button and listened to the static. Nothing happened to them. They were okay. They were fine. They weren’t bitten. Oh god, please, let them not be bitten.

“Rick?” her voice came out a second later. Even on the radio waves, Rick could hear the urgency and shaking distress she was trying to hide beneath her tone. Rick knew that tone. Heard it many times before. His insides trembled.

“Are you okay?” he rasped out, holding the wall with his other hand, his vision blacking for a second didn’t let him ask it openly.

But Amanda still understood. “I am—” she answered quickly. “It’s Nicholas.”

His eyes closing, Rick muttered a silent prayer to anyone who cared to listen. He didn’t care. He never prayed. But he wanted to pray now. They were okay. She, Carl, Beth. They were all okay. It was someone else.

The thought was sickening, but Rick still couldn’t help himself. “What happened?”

There was again only static before her answer came. “Wolves—” she talked over the line. “They’re here, Rick.”

Notes:

So, finally, we've got the Wolves too! I swear every time Amanda sets a foot outside, she's gonna find a problem, lol.
I might update the next two chapters too soon, but I really sit down and finish the book, which I still haven't started yet...In the meantime, don't forget to leave a comment, and keep me company, please. It means a lot, and really keeps me motivated!
Thanks :)

Chapter 31: 'I am doing it'

Summary:

After learning about the Wolves, Rick wants to have a lockdown in the town, which makes him clash with the town's leader once more. Help though comes from an unexpected place.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Amanda didn’t know how she drove to Alexandria after finding the RV. Thank God, it was still where they had left it, so they quickly barged in, Aiden and the rest of his team holding Nicholas stable in the back. As soon as they took on the road, they called in Olivia to warn her they were coming back with a wounded, but she was almost surprised to hear Rick calling in again after a few moments.

“Wolves—” Amanda talked over the radio, taking a deep breath. “They’re here, Rick.”

He was silent for a while, possibly as stunned as Amanda how today had turned out, but then she heard his hitched deep rasp from the other side. “Wolves? Wolves!” he almost shouted, anger running over his shock, leaking through the exclamation even over the radio waves. “How? And you all okay?”

“I’ll explain—” Amanda replied, keeping her voice as firm as she could manage. She still couldn’t crumble into panic and fear. “Nicholas got bitten in the arm while we ran,” she explained. “The rest of us are okay. I cut off his arm with Carl’s sword.” The way she’d stroke down on the arm until it broke off almost undid her, eight times, eight times until she’d gotten to the bone, Aiden and the others trying to keep Nicholas still and silent while the bitten man howled and fought in pain between their arms, continuously begging her to stop.

With the memory, her hands started shaking, but she controlled herself, tightening her grip on the wheel. “You prep the infirmary,” she rasped out, her gaze trained on the road, focusing on the steps they needed to take, ignoring her prickling eyes with blood inside them.

“We need to patch him up,” she continued, staring at her whitened knuckled on the wheel. “His blood type is A Positive. We might need a blood transfusion.”

“Okay,” Rick affirmed quickly. “I’m A Positive. I’ll give if he needs it.”

She shook her head even though Rick couldn’t see the gesture. “No. Not you—” she objected shortly. “Round up a team. The best shots we have and Daryl. We need to go out again.” She could feel all the stares that were directed at her in the RV, but Amanda didn’t react.

They were comprised and those animals were out in the woods, their compound now was overrun with the dead. They had to go out and tracked them. They had to find them before they could cause even more damage. “What?” Rick asked, though, “What do you mean?”

“I’ll explain when we return!” she replied, hurrying on the side road as fast as she could. “Just do as I say now!”

A brief silence over the static, then his reply came. “Understood—” There was a firm, professional coolness in the word. “ETA?”

“In twenty. Get ready.”

 The rest of the way passed in silence, only disturbed by the loud groans of Nicholas and whimpers of Clarice who was cuddled in Carl’s arms. Ron’s head was between his hands as his elbows were rested on his knees. Beth was sitting next to her on the passenger seat, her face bearing an unreadable expression once more.

Even looking at them now was making her feel like a failure, the blows she’d rained on Nicholas, blood sputtering at her on a loop in her mind, but Amanda shut it down again. She still didn’t have time to have a breakdown.

# # #

The waiting was the worst. After they had severed the radio connection, Rick quickly began what Amanda had ordered.

Rushing to the peg where Olivia kept the keys, Rick ran to the glass vault after grabbing them and took his Colt Python from its nest. The guard at the post in front of the armory, Heath, had already come too and was looking at Rick in the doorway.

“What happened?” the second supply team leader asked. Rick detected a hint of anxiety in the younger man’s tone. “I saw Oliva running like mad.”

Rick nodded briskly, tucking his gun in his holster. His other gun was still hidden under his shirt at his back, but he didn’t want his secret to come out open especially after what had happened today with Pete Anderson.

“I don’t know exactly,” Rick confessed. He didn’t know, but Amanda’s panic underneath her contained voice was clear. She was trying to hold up, but Rick knew that tone very well. “Nicholas got bitten,” Rick continued not stopping his movements as he searched for a bino. “They were attacked.” He twisted aside, spotting the item on one of the shelves, and grabbed it. “Can you round up your team? We’ll need to go out today.”

Heath nodded. Taking the handheld radio with him, too, Rick started running toward the gate. Daryl found him on the way. “Rick, what happened, man?”

“Nicholas is bitten—” he explained briefly, arriving at the gate. Spencer, hearing the clutter, came out of the little gate post and heard what he’d said.

“What?” the younger Monroe cried out. “Are they okay? Aiden—”

Rick cut him off, stopping for a second to hang the bino over his neck in front of the platform. “Amanda said they’re fine—” he went on. “They cut off Nicholas’s arm and they’re returning. They were attacked.”

“Attacked by who?”

“Amanda said it was the Wolves.”

“Fuck!” was the only answer Daryl gave.

“Who are these Wolves?”

Rick turned to Daryl, ignoring the younger man, holding the platform’s ladder. “Find Abraham. Round up everyone. We’ll go out.”

Daryl gave him a brief nod just as Rick started climbing up. Spencer followed him.

“Who are these Wolves?” the younger Monroe repeated the question as Rick leaped on the landing.

He brought the bino over his eyes to survey the road they would return before murmured darkly, “You don’t want to know.”

Even a part of him didn’t want to, wanted to forget he ever knew them. Rick recalled the mutilated, butchered bodies they had found in Noah’s hometown, ripped off limbs piled upon on each other, Noah’s brother… The burned houses, burned soil, even down to the lawns. Air full with the greasy smell of rotting and burned flesh, and gasoline.

And Amanda’s determined resolve to burn the horrendous abomination to the ground before he told her that he loved her.

They’re here.

Another nightmare had found them, but Rick wasn’t going to fail this time.

There was a real scar in Amanda’s panicked tone while she talked to him, trying to keep it under control. The hill of the cut-off limbs and heads found Rick again before he chased it away from his mind. His eyes wandered for a second, looking at the town.

He imagined the white houses with white fences burned, the green lawns and flower gardens turning to grey charcoal stone, hills of corpses piling up on the streets, Alexandria laid to ruin. Just like the prison. Just like the church. Just like the Shirewilt Estates.

No.

Never. Not as long as Rick still breathed.

This was the place he was going to build a home for his family. One way or another. He wasn’t going to lose it. Not to anyone. Not to anything.

He didn’t know what was happening for sure, but he wasn’t going to sit down on his ass and wait for bad things to happen to them. Carl wasn’t going to accuse him of not doing anything again.

They silently waited, before Rick couldn’t do it anymore, boiling with anxiety and with the unknown. He almost lowered the bino to make another radio contact, but he caught a swirling cloud of dust ahead on the road just before he did it.

His hand froze, picking the sight of the dark brown beige RV in the dust, something easing off his chest. He turned to Spencer. “They’re coming.”

They rushed down on the ground, Spencer sliding the gate open even before they arrived. Less than a minute later, the RV rolled inside, making a deep gargoyle as its tires skid to a halt.

Rick ran over to the driver's seat as he saw Amanda from the window. As they said the bad news traveled fast, there was a small gathering of the townspeople around the gate and they were already circling the motor house. Rick picked up Joan running toward them from the other side, barking orders as Spencer joined the townspeople.

Amanda opened the door as Rick ran closer to the vehicle and jumped down beside him.

For a short moment, Rick couldn’t even breathe. His eyes stuck on her, everything around him dampened into silence as Rick looked at her face, her neck, her hair, her hands, her white shirt, leather jacket, everything, everything of her was covered with blood. The sight made him want to toss his head back and growl out his chest, her looking like this again at the same time he wanted to tackle her into a tight hug and never let her go again.

Then his eyes picked Carl and Beth getting out of the RV. Amanda trailed his gaze too and returned to him. “We’re okay—" she repeated just as the loud sounds of clamor began from the other side of the vehicle.

They both hurried to the other side to check out the scene. “I cut off his arm at the junction—” Amanda explained as they jogged. “But he lost a lot of blood.”

Rick could see that. Aiden and Jeffrey were carrying Nicholas out of the steps of the RV, still bleeding. They had made a tourniquet and closed the cut limb with a massive patch of gauze bandage from their first kid aid kit. Nicholas was almost passed out as he staggered down from the steps, no color on his face.

Clarice and Ron followed the others out as Carl and Beth joined them. Rick clutched at his son’s shoulder, gazing at him before he wandered his eyes between the teenagers. “You all okay?”

Ron and Clarice looked truly shaken, Beth and Carl’s face were whitened. “W-we’re okay, dad,” Carl answered.

Rick nodded as Joan and others started moving Nicholas towards the infirmary. Rick and Amanda started following but stopped when Pete Anderson suddenly cut in their way.

The man’s face was flushed with his furry, his attention solely fixed on Amanda. “You took out my son to that!” he spat at her, walking on in her, dangerously—dangerously close.

 Rick almost punched him in his face, not caring anything at all, not caring if the man was trying another game or not, not caring if Deanna would send him to Denise.

“I—” Amanda started, but her words were cut off with a clear, loud voice.

Doctor Anderson!” Joan shouted, sending the man a stern look, holding Nicholas’s left side with Aiden. “We need you HERE!”

The doctor sent Rick a loathing look, slanting another one to Amanda before leaving them to help Nicholas. “Move. Get to him to the infirmary. Quick.” he barked, motioning them with his hand.

Rick found the surgeon’s wife in the crowd too as she hurried toward his son.  Anderson turned to them. “Jessie, get Ron in the house. Stay there until I come back.”

His wife collected their teenage son as they started hurrying Nicholas over the infirmary. Rick turned to Clarice who still looked terrified. He imagined how Beatrice would become after learning the news, and understood they needed to take care of the Reese sisters.

Rick moved slightly, his eyes searching for Carol. He saw the older woman close to Joan. “Carol—” Rick called out before they moved away. With a look, Carol left the others and came by their side.

“Clarice—” Rick started, gesturing with his head. “Go with Carl and Beth. You stay with us tonight.” He darted a look at Carol. “Carol, can you look after them?” The older woman bobbed her head quickly. “Can you ask Glenn to check on Beatrice? She can come with Maria. It’s better if they don’t stay alone.” Rick paused for a second. “Tell him to keep an eye on Anderson, too.”

Carol nodded again, sharing brief eye contact with him. Amanda didn’t even react, just stayed there motionless, looking at Nicholas as they carried him away. When Nicholas and the clamor of the others became lost toward the uphill of the town and they stayed alone, she drew back, propping herself against the RV, and rested her head back on it.

She looked tired, so tired as she closed her eyes, letting out a long sigh, but Rick forced himself to go on. He hated doing it to her now, hated drilling her for questions, but he had to know. “Amanda, what happened?” he asked, walking closer to her. “How did they find you?”

She lifted her head and made a bitter sound. “They didn’t find us—” she replied, shaking her head. “I led us to them.”

Rick scowled at the words, but before he could question her further, Daryl appeared beside them. “Hey—” he called out with an urgency that made the hunter bristling, waving an arm at them. “Deanna called a meeting. She waits you.”

Both of them nodded at the same time, but Amanda asked as they started walking, “Have you rounded up a team?”

Daryl gave a brief nod. “Yeah, Abraham’s gettin’ ready. We can leave—”

“After we talk with Deanna,” Rick interrupted.

Inside, Deanna had already gathered the others. Aiden had come back from the infirmary, his clothes as bloody as Amanda, his expression forlorn while his father held him close by his shoulder beside the floor length window. Spencer brought Denise, Aaron, Tobin, the younger head of the supply run team, and Abraham, who still looked half-drunk as they stepped inside the living room.

When they settled in the room, they all looked at Amanda. Rick opted to stay against the fireplace, having the clear sight of the room as Amanda stood up at his other side at the library.

“Officer Shepherd—” Deanna started placidly. “Aiden told me you’ve made a hostile encounter. Can you debrief us, please?”

Amanda shook her head. “We don’t have time for details. We need to go out and start looking for them ASAP.”

“As soon as you tell us what happened—” Deanna countered.

With a swift nod, Amanda began making another quick summary of their encounter. Rick had to keep a hiss when she said the man had told them he had two other women, one teenager around Beth and Carl’s age, understanding the asshole had played on their conscience.

Amanda’s dour expression told Rick he wasn’t wrong in his assumption. “Something just set me off,” she remarked, talking about the food factory they had gone to retrieve the others.

“I don’t know what exactly,” she went on. “Liam said the trucks were full of food. I tapped my fingers on the metal then heard it.” She paused a little, her eyes darting around, and found his for a second before she continued. “The growls answered me back. I realized then we were set up.”

Her instincts had saved their lives, but the reality that they came back from a razor-sharp edge again, had come so damn close to it made Rick almost walk in on her and shake her senseless, telling her, begging her to stop.

She was out only for a patrol. Rick knew it was heartless, but he’d gone to help Father Gabriel because Amanda and Carl gave him those looks after Terminus. He’d gone to find Eric because he didn’t want to start over in Alexandria that decision hanging on his shoulder. Amanda wouldn’t have turned her back on a woman and a teenage kid that might need her help, and Rick loved her for that, but it still didn’t change the stark truth.

Instead of Nicholas, it might have been her lying in that sickbed, or Carl or Beth. It was all about survival now. It reminded Rick what he’d told Deanna at his interview. They look how to play on your weaknesses. Measure you by what they can take from you. How they can use you for their own benefits.

“He wanted to sell you as his earning gift—” he mused out through clenched teeth.

That was how the asshole had tried to use her, playing on her weakness then tried to use them for his benefit. Rick’s jaw set up, the realization of his words setting a cold fire in him. Rick wished he hadn’t been right, wished he’d been just paranoid. Not in this lifetime. Not anymore.

“I guess—” Amanda admitted in a placid voice. “He told the leader he proved his worth and asked to take him in. The man said something like a wolf is a wolf, and the pack is them. But Liam wasn’t one of them. They’re a close-knitted group, the carvings, tattoos. They don’t take strangers in.”

“How many people did you see?” Rick questioned, his jaw clenching further with the last information.

Her eyes turned to him and her eyebrows pinched when she realized he was getting angrier. It wasn’t fair to her. Rick knew it. This wasn’t her fault, and he wasn’t even angry at her. Rick loved her for her spirit, for her blind determination to stay good, but that stark truth was still so blunt, so heavy in him, everything else dimmed next to it.

It would’ve been her in the infirmary with one hand less now as Rick stood vigil at her bedside, checking her fever every moment if the infection had settled or not. Tonight, Rick was going to need to go to the infirmary and cuff Nicholas to the bed. Even imagining the possibility of doing it to Amanda was making the beast inside him roar painfully.

But her face setting, Amanda answered sternly, “More than thirty, possibly forty.”

It was a miracle, a damn miracle they had managed to escape. If they hadn’t—Suddenly his stomach knotted, recalling his words again. Measure you by what they can take from you. What if, what if the whole thing was a setup for something more?

His sudden panic turned to fear, his blood turning icy with it. “Amanda—Amanda, were you followed?” he asked agitatedly, striding toward her with a few quick steps. “Did you notice anything else off?”

“No!”

“Are you sure?” Rick insisted, leaning over her, trying to catch her eyes.

Forty men. How they could have run away from forty men unless they let them go. Back in the days, they used to do this to flush out mobs’ plans. The oldest Sherlockian trick.

If you want to find something, you just set them up in danger and watch them running to it. Amanda was too far smart to fall into such a trap, but that dubious voice was in his mind.

Understanding him as her eyes becoming stormy, her greens darkening, Amanda jerked her head. “No. No one tracked us!” She swept her look to Aiden then the man spoke up too.

“We were in a hurry, but we checked—” He confirmed her. “No one followed us.”

Rick turned to the younger man. “How did you escape then?”

It was Amanda who answered the question. “I fired at the trucks and let the dead out—" she snapped as Rick let out a sharp hiss, closing his eyes. “We needed a distraction, so I did it.”

“Still forty men—” Rick bristled with a shake of his head. “They may be planning something else—” He turned to Spencer. “We need to double the watches—”

“They don’t have guns,” Amanda remarked stiffly, cutting him off. Her glare was still lit with green fire as she sent him another glare. “That’s how we really escaped.”

 The cutoff limbs and the mutilated bodies skated over his mind before it dawned on Rick. There were no bullets wounds in the bodies they’d discovered in Noah’s home. They had butchered them like animals, but they hadn’t used any guns. Because they had none.

His discovery settled him down a bit, even though there were still forty brutes like that in the woods in their ten miles radius, forty men who wouldn’t have minded doing what they’d done to Shirewilt Estates to them.

Rick understood better why Amanda had told him to round up a team. He walked to the dinner table in the room where Deanna usually left maps and found one. He unrolled it quickly. “Amanda—” he called out to her. “The factory. Del Arno Foods. Where is it?”

She strode over to him with the others and showed them four locations. She put her index finger on a spot at the far northeast. “This’s Liam’s hometown. Closer to Shirewilt Estate—” Her finger swept upward, to mark the butchered town before it moved southward, closer to Alexandria. “And this is Del Arno.”

Taking a pen from the table, Rick circled the spots she’d pointed and marked them. He circled Alexandria for the last and looked at the distance between the spots. They were coming closer to the south, just like Amanda had stated. Del Arno was in the middle of Liam’s town and Alexandria.

“We need to go out and find them—” Amanda repeated, lifting her head to Rick.

Rick nodded, his eyes still on the map. “Perhaps they would return to their home base?” Reg asked.

Amanda shook her shoulders, turning to the older man. Rick lifted his head. “I don’t know. There were a lot of geeks in the trucks. If it’s overrun, they can’t sweep it clean. But that was what truly set me off, I think—” she continued after a brief pause as she slanted a look at him.

“It was too quiet. I thought at first it was because it was abandoned, but if the factory was really their home base, how? I didn’t see any sign of settlement, nothing. If I did, I would’ve never risked it when I had my pupils with me.”

All of them frowned as Rick asked. “So they don’t live there, you say?”

Amanda shook her head, looking at him. “I don’t know. I just didn’t see any sign.”

“What about trucks then?”

She gave off another shrug before repeating the same. “I don’t know. Perhaps they prepared rotters as a weapon for attacking the towns.”

“Like Governor—” Daryl supplied in, his voice gruff with the old memory.

Remembering the truck that was full of walkers running down over their fences didn’t make Rick feel better a damn bit. “Yeah.”

He wasn’t the only one who felt it. A worried expression over her face, Deanna turned to him. “What do you say, Rick?”

He was still silent for a second, mulling over what Amanda had said, forty men who could do that, men even preparing walkers to use as a weapon. Another Governor at their doorsteps.

The idea rioted him so much Rick wanted to break something. Wolves had been out there, they’d already known it, but it was no longer only a possibility, but their reality and they weren’t ready.

“We’re gonna make sure Del Arno is overrun and stay that way,” he finally spoke in a clipped voice, admitting the truth. “But we’re not ready for a full engagement yet.”

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Rick felt even angrier. The wolves were always out there, and the town, all of them had been dragging their feet, going to poker nights and book clubs, refusing to heed his words all the while Rick tried to explain.

No more. No fucking more.

He turned to Deanna. “I tried to explain to you, but you didn’t listen, Deanna,” he spoke curtly again. “We’re gonna do it in my way now.”

“Your way?”

Rick acknowledged it with a terse nod. “The playing house is done. We’re going around the horn.”

They looked at him, questions clear in their silent gazes and Rick didn’t beat the bush further. “We’re going under a total lockdown,” he announced with a firm voice.

“Every gathering, every little club you have to pass time is suspended until further notice. There will be no dinner parties, poker nights, or book clubs until we deal with this. Everyone—and I mean, everyone starts training with Officer Shepherd. Everyone is going to range practice, no exception,” he stressed out the word sternly before adding, “Including all children.”

The shouts started echoing as Rick merely looked at them, standing in the middle of the room. “Children?!” Spencer yelled. “What children have anything to do with those men out there?”

“They need to learn,” Rick defended his point, his eyes still on Deanna. “The gun restriction rule doesn’t do any good to us. We can get attacked at any time. When the guns are out, the kids will need to know how to handle them safely. It’s more dangerous the other way.”

Deanna, her expression carved out like a stone, still looked unconvinced. “Rick’s got a point—” Abraham spoke a few seconds later, words half slurred, but fully serious. “We need to get ready.”

Rick nodded, but Deanna shook her head. “That’s martial law—” she slowly uttered in forced coolness. “I told you Alexandria won’t turn into a police state.”

“Call it whatever you want,” Rick challenged, not backing down. “I am doing it.”

Rick didn’t care what it was. They were going to learn how to fight, how to survive. One way or another. They weren’t going to lose this place. Rick was ready to assure that by all means necessary, but help came from an unexpected place.

“Rick’s right, Deanna—” Amanda remarked placidly. “Sheltering kids don’t work. We can’t expect them to shoot, but they have to know how to be safe around guns like Rick says—” Her eyes shifted to him before she continued, “I had a class for the kids in the prison. To teach them how to behave in times of crisis, how to keep their cool, and follow the plans. We can start it here, too. They need to learn.”

Rick felt something easing in his chest, having her supporting him again as he realized how much he had missed it, how much he needed it. Not only for himself either, because after her more…tactful words, Deanna also started looking a bit more settled with the idea.

Amanda had been always better than him with this. With dealing conflicted situations in harsh times even though she never accepted it. She knew handling superiors and politics better than Rick. Rick was a good negotiator, people always listened to him somehow, but Amanda’s childhood trying to avoid conflict had possibly made her quicker to adapt and better at finding common grounds.

They still made a good team. The realization gave him another relief, making his admission to Carol absolute. He wanted her back. He needed her back.

Rick bobbed his head, his attention shifting to Deanna. “We need to talk about this further. Prepare the emergency plans we talked about before.” The things he should’ve done a long time ago. “We need contingency plans for how to leave the grounds in case that things go south.”

He wasn’t going to lose Alexandria, no, but still. They had to be prepared. “Set up rendezvous points, prepare safe houses in the woods. And everyone has to learn them.”

Amanda nodded. “We’ll work on it.” She looked at Deanna. “But first we need to go out and check Del Arno.”

Deanna’s eyes cut over for a second to his husband and her older son. Reg Monroe looked at Amanda. “I’m not sure if the situation calls for such drastic measures,” he remarked. “They don’t have guns. I don’t think they would attack.”

“There’re no guarantees like that—” Rick answered, his voice rising a notch. Governor hadn’t had anything either before he returned with a tank. “They can always find a cache or an armory military left or appropriate them from other people.” He shook his head. “You can’t trust that.”

His words were so logical, so true, so probable, even Deanna couldn’t fight with him anymore.

“All right—” the old woman finally relented, albeit reluctantly. “But I’m not announcing that we’re declaring the damn martial law alone,” she said, turning to him and Amanda. “I’ll gather the townspeople in the lounge area tomorrow morning, and you’ll explain it.”

Rick jerked his head briefly in a nod. “We’ll do it.”

# # #

Somehow at the end of the meeting, they became a ‘we’ once more. We’ll do it.

For a moment, Amanda felt stunned at how easy the words had sounded, how normal, like it was the simplest thing in the world, like it wasn’t them who wouldn’t have carried a damn conversation civilly just this morning even for a few minutes.

But Rick was right. Not even wrong in this instance when he was right. The wolves were out there and they weren’t prepared. Aiden’s father had mentioned they wouldn’t attack because Alexandria had the tactical advantage and better firepower, but again Rick was right. They could never trust that. Finding firearms wasn’t easy these days, but it wasn’t out of question.

Those animals without guns were already a threat to tread carefully, but with guns? The amount of destruction those men would cause with such lethal force made Amanda almost tremble.

A part of her still felt she was responsible for another disaster, although she knew it was partly her fault. She hadn’t brought the Wolves down here. They were already out there. Only they hadn’t known about them. The thing was that much like time, the distance between places was also relative in their world now. Nine miles sometimes were so far away, apart like planets, sometimes it was just nine miles.

Amanda hoped it was going to be apart like planets this time. Though she also knew they couldn’t trust on that, either. Luck runs out.

Her eyes shifted and found Rick. His face was still set stiff as they walked out of Deanna’s house. His damn martial law had worried Amanda, despite her agreement, the absolute way he had announced a restriction on all activities the townspeople had going on; I’m doing it.

Yet, he was still right, so she’d backed him. These people needed to get their shit together. She supposed the Wolves was their long-needed wake-up call.

 Her eyes darting at Rick again, she wondered if he was still angry at her. Underneath all of his anger, Amanda sensed there was that as well. She hadn’t caused this, yes, but she’d put them in this situation. Because she insisted on being the thing Rick always told them to stop being—an idiot that tried to do good. She’d let herself be comprised, played on when she had her own responsibilities, her pupils—his son to take care of.

He couldn’t say it aloud, but Amanda knew what was passing through his mind. She knew Rick. They arrived at the armory quickly, Aiden, Daryl, and Abraham following them. Amanda had her gun still tucked in her holster, but she needed more firepower now. She needed a rifle.

“Let’s go hunting!” Abraham sputtered, grabbing a rifle from the racks as he held it against his chest. He seemed out of his sober depressed mood with the idea of the combat, but Rick scowled at the words.

“You stay—” he told the man. “Someone needs to stay in the town. And you need to get sober.”

“I’m sober enough to lock and aim.”

Rick shook his head, grabbing the custom-made Norinco Type 56 that Amanda had used when they went to the organic market. “You stay.”

There was a tense silence as two men shared a glare, Amanda and the rest of them watching them silently. “I need someone inside,” Rick replied, stressing out the word as he leaned in on the former sergeant. “When the word is out, people will start overacting. You can keep them in line if someone tries to overstep.”

Amanda guessed he meant Pete Anderson. Glenn would deal with Pete Anderson while they were out, but Abraham and his army appearance might be useful to keep the townspeople more soothed until they returned. Amanda recalled the way the doctor came at her at the gate when they arrived. The last thing they needed now was really people coming at them with pitchforks.

It was a worry for tomorrow, not for tonight.

Abraham seemed to agree upon that. “Aye.”

Rick gave him a brief nod and turned to her. There was another brief silence between them this time as Rick looked at her. Amanda frowned, understanding what was coming the next. As if Daryl understood the same thing, he waved his arm at Aiden and Abraham and ushered them out.

When they were alone, Amanda grabbed a rifle for herself and hung it over her back. “I’m coming.”

“Amanda—”

“I said I’m coming—” she hissed, turning away from him to look ammo. “End of the discussion.”

“I was going to—”

“I know what you were gonna say!” she interrupted him, her voice still low and a hiss. “So don’t bother. I’m coming.”

He cut off her way while she searched for ammo. His eyes had turned to that electrical blue, cut gemstones as he glared at her. “What you think I was gonna say, Amanda?”

“You want me to stay in—” she snapped back, her hand clenching over the bullets to collect them.

“It was a hard day for you—” he replied, but she cut him off again.

“You mean I screwed up—”

“I didn’t say that!” His voice rose another notch as he took a step further in her. “Stop putting words into my mouth!”

Her eyes jerked up at him again, hearing the words he’d uttered to her the last time in their breakup fight. She shook her head. “You’re angry at me, Rick. Angry because I went there. Don’t tell me you’re not.”

“I’m frustrated, Amanda, but I don’t blame you for this. I’m not angry at you, I’m angry at…things.”

“Then why do you want me to stay?” she challenged, looking at him in the eye. “Abraham needs to stay because he isn’t sober and you need someone in, but why me? You didn’t ask Aiden to stay.”

“You cut off someone’s arm today, for Christ’s sake. You’re still covered with blood—”

“I’m fine!”

He shook his head, running a hand over his face. “Fine, Amanda, fine. If you want to come, then come.” He paused, letting out a sigh. “I—I just worried about you.”

“Go worry about Beatrice—” she seethed, the words popping out of her mouth before she could stop herself. “I don’t need it.”

 She started moving away, but he caught her elbow. “Amanda—” he said quietly, his voice still firm, but softened around the edges. “It was just a dinner. I only stayed an hour before I left.”

She yanked off her arm free, taking a step closer to him. “But you still went, Rick. We broke up what ten days ago? Two weeks?” She paused, swallowing hard, another thing coming to her as she spoke further, mulling over it. “Or was it even before that? W-were you going behind my back? Kept her around in your orbit in case that we break up?”

When to come to think of it, it'd happened rather quickly. Beatrice was flirting with Rick all the time, but Amanda had always written it off as one of the girl’s quirks despite her jealousy. God! How much of a fool she’d been! Even Carol had been surprised when they’d seen them together! Even she hadn’t expected it to happen that quick!

 But his eyes glinting sharply as if her words hurt him, Rick shook his head again. “Really, Amanda. That’s really what you think of me?”

When she looked at him, Amanda felt the answer in her again. No. She didn’t think of Rick as a man like that. He could be a true asshole sometimes, but he didn’t play with people like that. He wouldn’t play with her like that. He cared about her, genuinely. Amanda knew that. It was hard to explain. She…she felt it. Just much like she felt the dangers around her. Sometimes…sometimes she just forgot it.

Slowly, dipping her head, she looked at the concrete floor, but couldn’t help but ask. “Why did you go then?”

This was the worst moment. The worst moment of having a talk like this, so she wasn’t surprised to hear him saying; “Amanda, this isn’t a good time. After we deal with these assholes and put everything in order, we sit down and talk, okay?”

With low laughter, tired and heavy, she shook her head, lifting it. “That’s what we kept saying to each other in the woods, Rick,” she reminded him bitterly. That they have should found a place, sat down and figured out the thing between them. It’d done no good to them.

But Rick’s face shifted as his jaw squared. “I went because I wanted to learn more about Pete Anderson.”

“What?”

“Beatrice asked me to dinner, and I wanted to learn about their relationship.”

She stared at him, realizing what she had thought but couldn’t have suited to Rick might be very well true. That he’d had an ulterior motive for going to Beatrice because he wanted to learn more and he was admitting it to her. Amanda honestly didn’t know how she felt for it, aside from that she knew she still didn’t like it.

“What’re you going to do next, Rick?” she bit off. “Will you fuck her to get more information?”

 His jaw clenched further. “No. Don’t worry. I learned everything I wanted.”

Anger flared up in her after the words, not even rejecting the idea. She suspected that he was trying to rouse her now because of what she had started, so she didn’t disappoint.

“Glad to know!” she hissed, hitting him at the shoulder passing him by. “If we need another data mining from another unhelpful party that would inquire your unique touch, I’ll let you know.”

# # #

As Aiden drove the black Chrysler 300 LX, Rick watched outside. He should focus on what there was ahead of them, the Wolves, but he couldn’t keep his mind and eyes wander to Amanda who sat in the backseat with the others. Daryl and Heath were coming behind them with the second RV of the town. After arriving at the food factory, they would spread out as two teams, Daryl tracking one part, Rick having the other.

If any luck, they would find the assholes and put this damn thing to an end before more damage was done.

His eyes darted backward again. Amanda was still the same, checking outside silently much like him.

She had thought he was angry at her. Rick was angry, yeah, but not directly at her. In hindsight, perhaps it was even a blessing.

If they hadn’t learned it, they would have still had dinner parties and poker nights merrily while the Wolves got closer and closer to them. Deanna would’ve never agreed with him for what Rick wanted to do. It was still debatable that the townspeople would agree willingly even now. Rick didn’t care. He was going to deal with it. They weren’t going to lose this place. The people had to accept that. Needed to fight for what they had.

They had never before. All Alexandria was literally like rich kids that had inherited their fortune from their ancestors, never been having to work for it even for a second, but that wasn’t working anymore. If they wanted to live, they had to fight for it. No. Rick wasn’t angry with her. He was scared, terrified with the fact she would’ve been hurt or worse bitten and frustrated with her damn stubbornness, but not angry. How could he?

Yet, Amanda still didn’t understand him. Didn’t see he just wanted her to cool down. Cutting a limb wasn’t easy. Rick knew it from experience. Sometimes his nightmares were still full of how he had had to cut off Hershel’s leg, the absolute horror of it, the way he kept striking down blows until he managed to cut through the bone.

Thank god, an arm might be easier, but he still preferred her to take a shower and cool down, not go hunting just after she had returned. Somehow their talk spiraled down after that, ending up discussing his damn dinner with Beatrice.

If Rick ever thought it would’ve hurt Amanda that much, he would’ve never ever accepted it! The relief, the hope Rick had felt after his talk with Carol was still with him knowing that Amanda still cared about him, fearing losing him, but the way she’d snapped it was less than two weeks since they broke up made him feel like more of an asshole.

If it’d been Amanda going to someone else’s place for dinner…Rick couldn’t even complete the thought. It gave him such a shudder inwardly, Rick preferred to have the Wolves suddenly show up instead of dealing with something like that.

God. He really had acted like an asshole.

So, he just told her he’d gone because he wanted information, not admitting he had felt so lonely he wanted to have some company for a little while. Rick couldn’t fathom anymore how she would react to that, so he kept it to himself. He couldn’t make her question his feelings for her further. He’d already done enough damage. I won’t shoot myself in the foot.

Rick wondered if he could ask her out to dinner again. They really needed to sit down and talk. Amanda hadn’t truly opposed the idea, just reminded him that was what they had been telling each other in the woods.

She had a point. It was also what Rick had done with Lori, postponing the things between them when Lori wanted to talk. He hadn’t wanted to make the same mistake with Amanda. That was what he’d been trying to do when he’d asked her to move in with him, wanting them to settle down, but it seemed like they still ran in circles.

Aiden stopped the car and twisted towards him. “That’s where we stopped before going into the woods—” he supplied. “Nine miles away in the northeast.”

Nodding affirmative, Rick stepped out. His eyes surveyed the area quickly, the long-neglected side road, the woods that lay ahead as Daryl and others joined them parking the RV behind the black car.

“We divide into two groups, track their trails,” Rick started as soon as Daryl’s group circled them. “I’m with Amanda. Daryl, you take Aiden.” Daryl nodded as Amanda didn’t make a sound beside him. Rick was glad. It was the same feeling like in the meeting. Not only because he couldn’t bear the thought of her going alone again, or because he didn’t want Aiden with her, but because they still made a good team.

Rick wanted that, wanted her like in Deanna’s house, holding his back. He had missed it.

“Whoever finds the tracks first, make the radio call,” Rick continued. “Don’t engage alone. We wait for each other. We have to make sure that we have the numbers.”

They still didn’t have. They were two groups of six, but with their rifles, guns, and ammo, it was going to be enough. They knew there was a community around now, but they didn’t know them.

They didn’t know him. Or how much Rick needed to end this. His eyes shifted to Amanda as she gave him a look too. “We need to check Del Arno first.”

“Yeah. We go there and see it.” He gestured with his head. “A’right. Let’s move out. Radios are silent unless we find something or request help.”

They all nodded before started moving and as soon as they walked through the tree lines, Daryl took his group toward further east as Rick turned west.

He had a feeling those animals wouldn’t have returned to where they’d come from. There was a reason why they had moved south, possibly drying up their resources, it was highly unlikely they would return to that, but they still had to cover their bases.

Rick still wasn’t taking any chances.

Amanda stopped them beside the creek they’d been following. “This’s where we encountered Liam—” she said, pointing at a spot beside the almost dried base of the creek. “I was showing the teenagers how to find a creek in the woods if they ever get lost, came to the creek and saw him.”

Rick knew it was one of the things she would’ve done when she took people out, one of the things Rick was going to make sure too the townspeople learn starting by the tomorrow. They’d given them too much slack, too much. The notion angered him again, but Rick tried to suppress it down. There had been so much to do, so little time, and Amanda—

Heath turned to them. Aiden’s men had gone with him, so Rick had taken Heath and his men with Rosita. Sasha and Bob were with Daryl. If they managed to find the Wolves today, Sasha’s marksmanship was going to be a lot of handy. They could take her up in one of the trees and cleared out the way for them before they attacked.

“We don’t usually come to these parts of the woods—” he remarked slowly, surveying the area.

Before Rick questioned the statement, Amanda did, turning to the younger man as well. “Aiden told the same. Why?”

The supply runner shrugged. “There’s a quarry in the vicinity. The camp turned quickly at the start of the outbreak, shutting itself off. So we kept our distance.”

Rick nodded. “We keep away from it and survey the grounds. Amanda and I will look for the tracks. You stay guard.”

The men and Rosita nodded before they started moving out. They covered the grounds back-to-back, the rest of them making a half arc behind them. No one took their point as Rick didn’t want to disturb the prints over the foliage further. The soil beneath them was still half muddy despite the dryness, so it was easier to track.

They came until the back road that Amanda led them with no interference, no encounters, hostile or any other kind. It pissed off Rick a great deal. He needed to get over this as quickly as possible.

Del Arno was exactly like how Amanda had described. Abandoned and swarmed with walkers.

“Well, we at least know that they can’t turn back here.”

Amanda’s jaw was set as she gazed at the compound behind the fences, the dead walking in the grounds now. “Yeah.” She slid her backpack over from her shoulder and crouched.

“What’re you doing?” Rick asked, his hand clutching the chicken wire fence as looking down at her.

She took out a blanket from her backpack. “What we came out in the woods too—” she explained, not even sparing a glance up at them. “Joan still needs a walker.”

Rick didn’t know if he should kick her ass or kiss her senseless as she brought out a small wire cutter from her back pocket and started cutting a small entrance in the fence. The others were still gazing at her startled, as Rick, giving in, finally settled with a small smile.

“You heard the lady—” he called out in a whisper. “We need a walker.”

An hour later, Rick dropped the dead corpse down on the ground and called in. “Daryl—” he made the radio contact. “Any luck?”

“Nah—” came the rasping answer immediately. “No sight. You?”

“No.”

Rick checked the sun. It was late afternoon, soon the sun was going to set down. “I can continue to look around for a while. We got Aaron’s bike at the back of the RV.”

“No—” Rick opposed, his gaze still up at the sun. “I don’t want any of us to stay outside in the dark. Move out.” He paused for a second, before admitting. “They’re gone.”

A foul air fell on them after his declaration, each of them mood souring, but it was a fact, too. The Wolves were gone.

They were going to look for them tomorrow, and the day after, and after, until they found those animals and put them down like the rabid feral dogs they were, but tonight they were going back. “We look tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. They looked for them and got ready.

If they ever attacked Alexandria, they were going to learn what all the other sonofabitches had learned in the end. That they were fucking with the wrong people.

Notes:

Whoaa, we have 'they're fucking with the wrong people' Rick again ;) I couldn't see Rick reacting any other way, really. My biggest inspiration for Rick is Commander Adama from Battlestar Galactica (he's exactly like how I imagine an older Rick would be as a leader) and Rick's "Call it whatever you want. I am doing it." was also a direct inspiration from that awesome man. My other inspiration for Rick is also Captain Flint from Black Sails, and I can't wait to make Rick utter his infamous speech in the show: "Or so help me God, I will rain holy hell down upon him." Both men are great, so is Rick :)

Amanda and Rick have started becoming a team again, yay, because really, those two would have never stayed apart in the same place, very unlikely, especially against a threat like the Wolves. And Rick of course had to lie to her about his dinner with Beatrice, lol... As much as he says Amanda keeps stuff from him, I wanted to make sure that Rick does it, as well, in fact, he does it much, much worse than her. Rick's biggest problem has always been his inability to have clear communication and this's a learning process for him. And lol, I kind of find it cute that he lies to her because he's afraid. We do our worst mistakes in relationships because of fearing losing the person we love, right?

This chapter had been a feat for me to write, hope you enjoyed reading it, too. I'll update another chapter within this week, hopefully, then I swear I'm gonna that break and start writing again, hehe. :) In the meantime, like always, don't forget/hesitate to leave a comment! It's sooo great to hear from you. Thanks. Have a nice day :d

Chapter 32: 'I won’t look the other way again, Rick'

Summary:

Preparing an action plan to deal with the last situation returning from outside, Amanda starts feeling the emotional distress of the day further and lets a kiss from Rick. In meantime, Pete Anderson doesn't like it when Amanda and Rick bring a put-down walker to the infirmary.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Proceed with ID challenge—” Spencer challenged them over the radio before they returned, and the words felt so out of the place, Amanda had to remind herself another time this was happening for real.

“Potomac—” Rick answered in a clipped voice, bringing the radio over his mouth.

Before they had left to look for the Wolves, Rick had made sure to put up a quick ID challenge for their return, and doing it now brought back memories. It was something she hadn’t done for a while, so perhaps, Rick had been really right. Even they had grown soft.

The words were her own choice. Potomac, everything in order. She wondered if they would ever use Sapphire. The word had come to her thinking of Rick’s darkened eyes, glinting sharply like sapphire whenever they were in deep shit. She supposed it was fitting. Not that she would ever tell Rick.

Aiden passed over the sideway of the roadblock slowly while Rick put the radio down. When Aiden had seen the corpse after they met, he didn’t say anything, just put it in the trunk with a low sigh.

She didn’t exactly know why she had done it, perhaps because she didn’t want everything to be an utter disaster with this mission. The remnants of her failure were still inside her deep down even after their weird fight in the armory, though Amanda still couldn’t let herself feel it. No. There was a long, long night ahead of her to do that.

Her eyes flicked upward, and Amanda spied a look at the purple-grey sky as the late fall sun was about to set down. It must be around the end of November now. Soon they were going to have December, then a new year.

In which nothing would really change.

Nothing seemed to change anymore.

Amanda pushed the odd thought away from her mind as Aiden passed through the gate when they arrived. He parked in front of the infirmary. There was a crowd in front of the white house, in the dug front garden, and on the porch, but all stares turned to them when they saw them arriving.

Perhaps they should’ve waited until night to bring the dead in the infirmary, Amanda mused inwardly, stepping out of the black car, her eyes wandering over the gathering people. Their faces were pale and confused. Underneath the confusion, Amanda observed the scare too.

Eyes moved towards Rick as he left the car and started walking around the trunk. They joined them with Daryl and others even though their RV had left at the gate. Rick and Daryl brought the rotter out of the trunk and started to carry it inside as shivering murmurs passed over the crowd.

The dead they were carrying was wrapped in the blanket, so as they couldn’t see it, consequently, they came to the worst conclusion. “We lost someone?” A half balding tall man, Amanda recalled as Carter Blake, asked as he watched them on the porch with others.

“Who?” Tobin asked, standing beside him.

“It’s not one of us—” Rick replied stiffly, lifting his head to them as they stepped on the porch, Amanda following them. Rick was holding the dead from under the shoulders as Daryl had the feet over the blanket. “It’s a walker.”

There was a silent pause at first, shock everyone rendered speechless, then Carter exclaimed out. “A walker?” the word sputtered out, backing away from Rick and Daryl as they passed by them as if the man expected the put-down rotter would become animated at any moment. “You brought one of them here?!”

“A dead one—” Amanda quickly cut in between them as Rick’s jaw squared. “We put it down.”

“You brought one of them—” the man murmured, shaking his head, his expression now truly scared. Amanda opened her mouth, but a voice interrupted her, too, a higher voice.

“They did what?”

“They brought one of the dead ones, Pete—” Carter replied before she could, turning to the doctor who appeared in the doorway, blocking their way.

The doctor’s face, unlike the others, was still angered. “Get that thing out of here!” he hissed as Rick and Daryl stopped, Rick facing the doctor. “I don’t want it in my infirmary.”

“Joan needs it for practice—” Amanda answered quickly, sending the man a glare as Joan walked out on the porch too. “I cleared it with Deanna,” Amanda continued, deciding to deflect the responsibility to the town’s leader. “She permitted it.”

“She’s right—” Aiden confirmed behind her. “Mother gave us okay.”

Pete and Carter both turned to Aiden. “Are you really fine with this mockery?”

“Mockery?” Rick snapped, starting to walk again. “It’s a damn cadaver!”

“It’s a damn disease!” Pete hissed back.

“And we’re all already infected!”

Pete shook his head, still standing in the doorway. “You’re not getting that thing inside my infirmary.”

His hands still carrying the dead rotter, Rick sent the doctor a cool look. “It’s not your infirmary. It’s our infirmary. Move away.”

Pete Anderson didn’t. Amanda darted a quick look at Aiden, and the younger man stepped out this time. “Pete, move away. It’s Mother’s orders.”

 The magic word from Aiden himself did it. The doctor left the porch, tailing a couple of townspeople, including Carter. Amanda saw them heading to Deanna’s house. Rick started walking in the infirmary with Daryl after giving Aiden a brief jerk of his head.

Joan led them toward the bed at the far corner from the door. “Put it down there. I’ll keep it secluded.”

Rick nodded. “Keep it safe, too. I don’t want anyone—especially children coming to take a peek.”

Joan gave a nod back. “Okay.”

Daryl walked closer to her. “How are ya?”

“Fine—” Joan replied and let out a sigh before she moved her gaze between them. “We stabilized Nicholas and put him under sleep, but it’s gonna be a long night.”

Aiden swallowed as they walked over to Nicholas’s bed. “Is there something else we can do?”

Nicholas was lying in the bed so pale, so fragile, tied to a blood bag, his half arm wrapped with white bandages, Amanda could hardly remember it was the same man who had beat her ass a couple of days ago in the boxing ring. The memory made her sad, knowing they could hardly do it anymore, her eyes prickled.

Joan shook her head with the same ruefulness as she looked at Aiden. “I’m sorry. We don’t know how long it takes the bites to activate the infection in the bloodstream. You were quick—but—” Her words trailed off as she swallowed them before she only said. “We just have to wait now.”

Aiden nodded, his eyes getting reddening. Amanda lightly touched his forearm. “He’s gonna be all right, Aiden—” she told him quietly, but picked up out of the corner of her eyes Rick advancing to the bed.

He cast a glance at them, then his hand went to his back. Dropping her hand, Amanda moved toward him, realizing what he was going to do. “Rick—”

He took his handcuffs from his back pocket and leaned over Nicholas. “What are you doing?” Aiden exclaimed, rushing toward them.

“We can’t take the chance—” Rick replied, not looking at them, but handcuffing Nicholas’s good arm to the bedpost. “We have to secure him.”

Aiden’s face turned to cold marble. “You’re a real sonofabitch, you know it, don’t you, Grimes?” he hissed as Rick locked the handcuff.

“I don’t make the rules, Monroe,” he only said before leaving the infirmary.

Amanda looked at the younger man, but silently Aiden bowed his head, taking the seat beside the bed in a dismissing gesture. “He didn’t choose this, Aiden,” she said, recalling what she had talked with Rick back in the prison. “This’s the hand we’re dealt.”

His head still bowed, Aiden only murmured, “I know.”

Amanda left the man alone as Joan and Daryl moved over to the rotter they had brought. She knew Joan wasn’t going to leave Nicholas tonight, and Daryl wasn’t going to leave Joan alone with him, either, not when Nicholas would still turn, being handcuffed or not.

The notion twined something in her chest, seeing them together like that, but she let it go. Leaving the infirmary, she quickly climbed down the steps and hurried over to Rick. “Was that necessary?” she asked, joining him. “Both Aiden and Daryl stay in.”

Rick shook his head. “After I cut off Hershel’s leg, I handcuffed him to the bunk,” he clipped, gazing ahead. “Do you think I would take the chance with Nicholas?”

Amanda momentarily halted in her steps. She knew Beth’s father had lost his leg in the prison during a run, but no one had mentioned before it was Rick who had cut his leg. “Y-you cut off his leg?”

Rick gave her a terse nod. “Yeah. We were in the cafeteria, looking for the supplies. It was our first day. We were cleaning out the place. The infirmary wasn’t still cleared out, so we had to do it there.”

Amanda swallowed, blinking as they came to the house. “How did you do it?” she asked in a small voice.

“Ax.”

She closed her eyes, fighting with the sudden tears as she remembered herself striking to Nicholas. “Eight times—” she whispered, turning her head aside away from him. “I stroke eight times.”

Rick walked closer to her. “You did what you had to—” he told her, turning her head to him touching her chin. “If you didn’t do it, he couldn’t have been alive now.”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

They shared a look, staring at each other. “You should rest—” Rick said, clearing his throat lowly. “It was a long day. I’m afraid tomorrow is gonna be even longer.”

His eyes glanced toward the infirmary as he said it, and Amanda suddenly found herself not wanting to stay alone, not in the room just last night they had fucked each other senseless. The sheets were going to smell him.

But she didn’t know how to say it either, so she blurted out, “I-I need to check on Beth.” It wasn’t a lie. She needed to check on them, too. She would dawdle around a bit, stay with Beth and the kids, then she would go to the other house.

She just couldn’t do it right now.

“You should stay with her tonight—” Rick remarked suddenly as Amanda’s eyes snapped up at him. “Make sure she’s okay.”

 Regarding him, Amanda wondered if he was having another ulterior motive again, that he wasn’t only talking about Beth, but also about her, that somehow he realized she didn’t want to stay alone and providing an excuse for her to stay with them, that he didn’t want her to be alone either. The thought filled her with something warm, pricking her eyes despite herself.

She bobbed her head quickly. “Yeah.”

They walked into the house silently, but the house wasn’t silent, not at all. Amanda heard the cries as soon as she opened the door.

Damn!

The Reese sisters.

She paused in the doorway, almost turned, and left. She couldn’t deal with Beatrice and her cries tonight either, but a light touch on the small of her back gently nudged her forward.

“Amanda. Please.” It was so lowly uttered, as Rick stood behind her, whispering it to her, his breath tickling over her ear. “Please.

Amanda walked in.

In the living room, their housekeeper nanny, a plump Latina woman in her fifties was holding Beatrice over her lap on the couch as Beatrice cried, her face covered in the woman’s crouch. Clarice was sitting beside them with a tired expression on her face, her hand holding her older sister’s, Carl beside her as Glenn was standing at the wall next to the couch, having the full view of the room.

Carol was with Mika and Judith over the blankets on the hardwood floor as Beth took Joan’s usual place in the alcove.

“Hey—” Glenn greeted them as they walked in. “Did you find them?” Beth asked immediately.

Rick looked at the crying woman who didn’t move an inch with their arrival, then shook his head. “No. We couldn’t. We’ll send another patrol tomorrow.”

Amanda looked down at Clarice, feeling sympathy for the girl after seeing them like that, couldn’t help herself. There was a part deep inside her that wanted to do the same too, wanting to lie over Rick’s lap and cry her heart out as he gently caressed her hair as she did, like he used to do after they lost Maggie.

“Is she okay?” Amanda asked, suppressing the odd feeling.

Clarice let out a sigh. “Yeah. She’ll calm down soon.”

“I brought them after you left—” Glenn walked closer to them. “She passed out when she learned about Nicholas. I carried her here.” The younger man shot the crying woman a glance too, looking befuddled. “Then she started crying.”

Taking pity on Glenn and the others, Amanda turned to Beth and Carl. “Did you make her tea?” They all looked at her. “Tea—” she remarked, giving them back a look. “You make tea when someone cries.” Sweet tea, soothing nerves. She almost shook her head with a tsk.

Clarice’s eyes found hers before she glanced at her nanny. “Maria always used to make us hot chocolate.”

“We don’t have hot chocolate, sorry.” She jerked her head at Beth. “Beth. Tea. And bring biscuits too. Carol baked some beet cookies yesterday.”

“Beet cookies?” the Latina woman asked as Beatrice made another hiccupping sob.

“Yeah. She was experimenting. She can give you recipe if you want.” She reached down and snatched Beatrice’s elbow, forcing her to stand up. “Beatrice, go to the powder room and wash your face,” she ordered in her best cop voice, her words sterile and firm. “There is no reason to cry right now.”

Her authoritative tones made the wonder, the younger woman blinked at Amanda with her red teary eyes. “R-right now?”

“Yeah—” Amanda replied firmly. “Right now.”

The words were speculative, and Amanda wanted them to be. Rick’s lips faintly jerked up behind her with her scare tactic, but he didn’t interfere. He’d done worse with the townspeople today.

When they went to the kitchen with Beth and Carl, leaving Carol, the kids, and Glenn in the living room, Rick settled on the couch and looked at Carol. “How was the town after we left?” he questioned, his eyes on Judith. “We saw a crowd in front of the infirmary.”

“Yeah. After they heard Nicholas was hurt, they went to check out. There was a small episode when they realized Amanda cut off his arm. I think that shook them worse than hearing there’re people out there who can hurt them.”

 “They heard they don’t have guns—” Glenn cut in. “They still think they’re safe behind the walls.”

Rick scoffed as Amanda swallowed down a tired sigh. Alexandria seemed didn’t still hear the wake-up call as Amanda had hoped. “They don’t understand.”

“They didn’t experience what we did,” Glenn replied.

“And they have to—” Rick rasped out lowly, a darker tone tinting his voice. “I won’t have them running like headless chickens if we’re attacked.”

“We won’t—” Amanda said adamantly. “That’s why we train them. Teach them the real deal.”

“The real deal, yeah—” He stood up, his eyes on hers. “Are you tired? Do you want to rest? We need a step-by-step action plan on how to do it.”

Tired, yeah, she was so tired, of everything, but that also wouldn’t wait. “Yeah, let’s do it. We announce it tomorrow in the meeting.”

Rick nodded, turning to Glenn. “Glenn?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“I stay with kids. Will join you later,” Carol said as Rick turned to her.

Rick nodded again. “I check the patrol and shifts first,” he said heading outside of the room. Abraham was going to man each platform beside the watches, they had talked before they left, and Sasha was going up to the bell tower. They’d seen Spencer’s partner up on the platform beside the main gate when they arrived but for the others, Rick couldn’t settle down before he saw it with his own eyes.

After he left, Amanda rested, playing with Judith and Mika, feeling a calmness setting in her the first time since this morning. Rick’s words in the armory for wanting her to stay in and cool down found her again, understanding how much she was truly needing it. Rick returned an hour later, looking at them in the doorway, looking at her especially. Amanda bowed her head, standing up, a part of her not wanting to leave the room and the kids, the tranquility she’d found as they moved to the den for privacy.

Glenn opened his room, shoving stuff on the floor with his foot as they walked inside. “Sorry—” the Korean muttered, “Didn’t think I’d have company.”

“It’s okay—” Amanda murmured, keeping her eyes focused ahead, not wanting to pry on the younger man’s stuff. She strode toward the round table beside the tall window and sat on a folding chair.

Rick took the next seat beside her as Glenn placed a notebook in front of them with pens. He settled on the chair across them. Outside the sky was already darkened, so they lit the small lamp on the table as Amanda took the vase beside it and placed it down on the floor to clear off space for them.

Taking the pen, she opened the notebook and write down Action Plan with big letters. “A’right. First. The basic survival class. Accelerated. I say five hours for each person. Starting how to use knives and blades, how to kill rotters. We can add up from there. Range practice, how to make in the woods, how to make first aid, treat wounds, etc.”

Rick nodded. “They need to memorize our surroundings. The woods, back roads, side roads. Which leads to where, and which to stay away from. If we get separated, we can’t have it like how it was in the prison. We have to know how to meet up again. We all have to know the grounds.”

Both Amanda and Glenn bobbed their heads as Rick spoke. “A’right,” Amanda continued. “We do it like this. I calculated more than forty people who needed training before. I give them a five-hour mandatory course first, groups of five. One group in the morning, the other after midday. That way we can finish the basic training in a few days, then you start range practicing, taking them out—” She paused, slanting Rick another look. “In the meantime, I start with children. There aren’t many. Jessie mentioned before less than a dozen. I can finish them quickly.”

“We take them out then, too?” Glenn asked.

“No. Not children—” Amanda opposed. “They just need to learn how to keep their cool.”

“They won’t manage to keep their cool if they won’t see a walker,” Rick objected to her.

Amanda shook her head. “The gun practicing and the course are already gonna make the parents tense. We have to be careful, not press too much all at once,” she warned. “We don’t want an uprising.”

Rick stayed silent for a second before he stated firmly; “Then we show it here.”

“What?” she echoed at the same time with Glenn.

“We bring in a walker, a still animated walker, and show them here,” he explained. “They think of them as monsters in the woods. So we show ‘em the monsters.”

Amanda still stared at him, thinking how the townspeople reacted tonight when they brought back an already put down dead inside. Letting them do this to their children?

She jerked her head again. “Rick, you saw them tonight. They made a fuss because we brought one inside the infirmary, already dead. Do you think they would take it cool if we bring an alive one?” she questioned, leaning over the table. “To the children?” She paused, mulling the idea further. “And Deanna…She wouldn’t let us, either.”

But Rick was still adamant. “It’s either that or I take everyone out. They all have to see it, Amanda.”

Amanda still regarded him unconvinced, even though she knew he had a point. Like always. Rick Grimes always had a damn point. “I think it can work—” Glenn spoke. They both turned to him. “We can devise it not only to show them but a part of the class too.”

“It’s the basic surviving skills, right?” the younger man asked, returning their silent inquiring looks. “First rule: Adaptation. If you are out in the woods running for your life, your best chance lays with camouflaging yourself,” he explained, and Amanda understood what he meant. “Like how we did back in Atlanta when we met, Rick.”

Rick bobbed his head, looking convinced with the idea, but Amanda shook her head once more. “That’s even worse than showing them a rotter,” she opposed, remembering their time in the woods when Rick had made them do it after they had escaped from the funeral home. After she thought she lost him forever. Even thinking of that night made Amanda shake with fear, but she didn’t let that thought slip inside her barriers. She couldn’t think of that now, not now, the fear, the absolute grief she’d felt… No.

She turned her mind on the subject and gave them a look. “Will we show them how to butcher one and smear themselves with it?”

“We’re gonna show them how to stay alive—” Rick countered adamantly. “This’s all about it. Staying alive.”

Amanda wasn’t still convinced, but she always recognized when it was useless to fight, and Rick—well, he still had a point. That trick would save their lives one day. It had saved theirs.

“A’right—” she conceded, writing it down too before she questioned. “The next?”

“We need to find a way that seventy people could safely sneak out when things go south,” Rick answered quickly. “Preparing getaway cars and safe houses are the second priority. I want Beatrice’s Lamborghini out too at the roadblock.”

Both Glenn and she gave him a look at the same time, Amanda thinking over the shiny silver exclusive sports car. “Why?” she asked, still not seeing why he would want it outside. The sports car was a beast, consuming too much gas and damn distracting too.

“It’s got a smart key—” Rick replied though. “It can’t be hotwired. If we ever need a good, loud distraction, we could use it.”

After weighing in the idea, Amanda slowly nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to have a sports car as a backup plan. “’Kay.” She paused. “Uh. Who’s gonna tell Beatrice?”

Rick shrugged. “Deanna.”

Amanda almost rolled her eyes, a smile threatening to break over despite everything, the fact that Rick didn’t want to do it personally making her chest…lighter. She squashed down the feeling quickly. She shouldn’t think like this. She shouldn’t feel like this.

They talked over the plans for more than two hours, discussing how to maintain rotation of shifts and patrols, still looking out for the Wolves as they kept the town in order and protected as the house grew more silent, outside turning darker.

By the end of the third hour, Amanda had finished her fourth page in the notebook, pages scratched with notes, some of them underlined, some of them canceled. Her shoulders felt so tensed hunched forward while she worked, she rolled them back when they took a break, placing her pen down on the table, and started rubbing her muscles.

“Ya okay?” Rick immediately asked, eyeing her quietly, but closely.

Her cheeks flushing suddenly, Amanda shook her head fleetingly. “Yeah. Just strained muscles.”

His hand found her right shoulder and Rick slowly rubbed it. It was a gentle touch, massaging her tense muscles, but it still had Amanda straighten back, turning aside to him. She almost asked what he was doing, but she couldn’t because his fingers found a kink. When his fingertips gently pressed on it, Amanda almost let out a soft whimper.

Glenn had already bowed his head, staring at the papers in front of them as if suddenly they were the most interesting thing in the whole universe. The door cracked opened. Rick’s hand stopped as Amanda jerked in her seat, snapping her head at the door.

Her hand still on the door’s handle, Carol was standing in the doorway.

The older woman’s lips twitched seeing them like that as Rick dropped his hand while Amanda quickly withdrew, twisting in her seat, feeling heat coming to her. “Everyone went to sleep,” Carol remarked in a small voice, still hovering over the door. “Joan is still in the infirmary. I gave Maria and the Reese sisters our room. I’ll take yours with Judith.”

Rick gave a quick bob of his head. They all knew Rick wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight. He would be around the town all night, staying guard. Amanda wondered letting their guests have her own room was for Amanda because Carol knew she wouldn’t like Beatrice sleeping in Rick’s bed.

The notion disturbed her so profoundly for a second Amanda almost stood up and gave Carol a hug. It was probably childish to feel like this, but well, she really didn’t want the blonde girl anywhere near Rick’s bed. She still knew she had no rights, but… It was just a dinner. I went to learn more about Pete Anderson.

Amanda chased away the words from her mind, even though she couldn’t help but her eyes drew toward him as Rick did the same. They shared a glance. “I left a pillow and blankets for you in the living room in case that you want to take a nap,” Carol added.

Rick returned to the older woman. “Thank ya—” he muttered simply before he questioned further. “Judy. How’s she?”

“Her fever is dropping,” Carol replied. “We’ll see how she’s gonna sleep tonight.”

“Thank ya again—” Rick said lowly, and Amanda wished she’d been here in the last days and would have done more for the baby. With the thought, she couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Memories rushed at her, the way they all slept together in the same bed, Judith, Rick, and her, Amanda half lying over him as they read together, her hands gently tracing his silky treasure trail or they just watched Harry Potter in each other’s arms, Judith sleeping in her crib, and Rick sliding over her, stroking himself inside her depths slowly, silently as Amanda hugged him tightly, her legs wrapped around his waist.

Heat burning in her worse, Amanda suppressed them all. She shouldn’t think of those memories, how they make her feel. She had to stop torturing herself. They stood up and left the den to let Glenn have the rest of the night. He was going to have a shift in the early morning.

They crossed the hallway quickly, Amanda going to the living room too following Rick to retrieve her backpack from where she’d left it before she went up to Beth’s room. She took the backpack beside the door in the entrance while Rick crossed the room and stood beside the tall window.

Standing still, he watched outside as he usually did, his spine tense, his legs slightly open in his stance.

Somehow, instead of leaving and going upstairs, Amanda found herself walking over to him. They stood side by side watching outside silently. She still didn’t know what she was doing, what she was waiting for. Was she? Was she waiting for something? She should leave. Nothing good had come from what they ever did this late in the night. They only fucked up each other, literally and figuratively. She just should leave and go upstairs. It’d been a long, long day.

Her eyes flickered over to him as the same time Rick did and stayed on each other. Her head rose an inch as Amanda noticed she was holding her breath. Rick dipped his head down, twisting toward her fully, getting closer as Amanda rose on her tiptoes.

They were going to kiss. She damn knew they shouldn’t, but she still couldn’t seem to manage to stop herself. She closed her eyes as their lips lightly touched each other. Rick didn’t do anything else, just lingered over her lips and waited.

This was a mistake. Her words from the morning echoed in her. It was madness, it was wrong. They were wrong for each other.

Though, Amanda still didn’t pull back. It felt like she was stuck in a place; she couldn’t go back, but she couldn’t go ahead, either.

The desire was so strong in her, to throw all the caution out in the wind and take the risk, just once in her life be the brave and kiss him. She wanted him. She wanted him madly. Something was…missing her without him. Terribly. Yet, she still couldn’t open her mouth and deepen the kiss.

Rick pulled back.

Amanda almost trembled, looking up at him. His face was serene, cool, not angry. There was no anger in his expression, and it filled her with relief. He leaned over in her and briefly kissed her forehead. The affectionate gentle gesture reminded her of the last time he’d kissed her like this. He’d withdrawn from her after then because Amanda couldn’t have had sex with him without condoms. He didn’t leave her this time, though still stayed with her, but she didn’t know how it exactly felt.

She fidgeted, twisting toward the window again. Rick cleared his throat. “I—I need to go check the watches and Nicholas,” he said, his low voice carrying the same coolness as his expression, but there was still heat in it.

“Yeah—” Amanda said, nodding, her eyes cutting over to him. “I go upstairs.”

“Yeah.”

They both still didn’t move.

Amanda almost burst into maniacal laughter. Maybe she would go and see Denise. Tell the psychologist what had happened last night, how much she’d lost it when she saw him with Beatrice, drinking her ass off, then fucking him feral half drunk, half neurotic, then their fight in the morning, their fight in midday, now this weird, chaste kiss, and this terrible, raw missing she felt.

What the psychologist would say? Would tell her it was normal? Expected? They’d become habituated to each other, created a… pattern together? Denise didn’t tell her anything anyway; just listened to her, asking her questions and making her talk. Amanda knew the therapy tactics, but would the woman at least tell her if she was going mad?

Then another thought found her. Did her appointments with the therapist need to come to an end as they were going under a lockdown? She couldn’t keep babbling about her feelings to the woman if she was going to need to train her properly. She’d already felt doubtful how it was going to work before, but now with all the things happening, no. Her interviews had to stop.

The thought should’ve made her feel glad, but Amanda felt…she didn’t know. She actually didn’t mind their hours anymore. It-it was good to talk.

God. She really must be losing her mind. She couldn’t find any other reason why she would enjoy talking to a shrink.

With the last thought, her motor functions start working again. She could feel Rick’s stare following her silently as she left the room, not objecting, just letting her go.

She tried to quell down the curt bitterness inside her as a leery voice snickered in her mind. Just like you wanted him to, Mandy.

Amanda really started hating her inner voice.

She crossed the hallway, holding her backpack in one hand. She was so tired. Perhaps it was just that, too. Nights always were harder. The cold, the darkness getting to you, making you feel lonelier. If she just slept, tomorrow morning, it was going to be better. As much as it would be in their life.

 She put a step on the stairs, then heard it. Soft cries. She lifted her head, thinking they were coming from upstairs, Beatrice having another bout in her sleep, but the next second she realized they were coming outside.

The living room’s door yanked open as Rick dashed to the outside door. “Something’s happening.”

All her confusing thoughts and conflicted emotions quelled as her cop persona surfaced to take control. She ran after Rick as he left the door open for her. They rushed down over the porch’s steps and crossed the driveway to stand in the main road.

Rick spun around his axis to hear the direction of the sounds. Picking it up, Amanda pointed to the west. “It’s coming from the infirmary’s side.”

They ran even quicker, the clamor getting louder and louder as a few people who were still awake came out on the porches too. Amanda saw Aaron and his husband, and Tobin in the house beside theirs. At the other side, there was Carter Blake, coming out on the porch as they stopped, looking at Joan and Daryl who were on the infirmary’s porch.

It wasn’t coming from there. They spun around again, staring at the house across them next to Deanna’s. All Monroe clan had come outside too, Deanna tying her belt over her robe as they looked at Anderson’s residence.

Glenn found them the next second as Rick watched the doctor’s house. The lights in the downstairs were all lit, and angry male shouts were carrying out in the street. Rick could see shadows playing over the drapes on the windows, a tall male figure moving agitatedly.

Rick touched at the back of his waistline. They all had checked in and left their weapons in the armory after returning from outside. Only Rick must have his secret weapon now if Joan didn’t carry her small ankle gun.

“Glenn—” Rick called out to his partner. “Come with me. You all stay.”

Amanda nodded, letting him do the policing stuff. It was his job, so they all watched on the sidelines. They stepped on the porch, and Glenn knocked on the door. Nothing happened for a couple of minutes. Glenn knocked again, this time firmer and louder, even Amanda heard it from the distance between them.

“Dr. Anderson—” Rick shouted. “Open up. You’ve woken up all the town.”

The door opened after then. Amanda couldn’t hear the conversation as they lowered their voices, but she could read body language. Rick’s anger was subsided, but the surgeon’s wasn’t. His face was flushed worse than before, it was even visible in the dark, and she knew the man had been drinking again.

But what made Amanda hitch a breath as she stared wasn’t their body language but was Jessie’s as the woman stood behind Rick and the doctor in the corridor, looking like a ghost, her face dead-white, trembling as her son stood behind her with a vacant look in his eyes, watching their parents fight.

As her jaw clenched, Amanda stared at the scene, a frost seeping through her.

# # #

In the morning, their house was crowded as it had never been before. While Carol and Maria prepared the breakfast, they settled around the island and along the wall. Abraham and Sasha had joined up to them, too, even Father Gabriel had come along for a change.

Beth, Clarice, and Carl helped Carol and Maria to prepare oatmeal for their large numbers as Rick fed Judith the mash Amanda had prepared, mixing the biscuits with milk powder and water, adding a few fresh fruits, and Judith’s favorite—apple marmalade.

“Was it Pete who made all that clamor last night?” Beatrice asked, sipping from the tea Amanda had Clarice prepare for her, looking at Rick and Amanda. Amanda was sitting beside Judith’s other side while Rick was up to feed Judith, Beatrice taking the seat across them, her back on the wall.

It was Glenn who answered as Rick only nodded swiftly. “Yeah. Rick and I went to check.”

“I guess he was angry for what happened—” Beatrice said slowly, her cheeks flushing, bowing her head as she shot at Amanda a look under her head. “He got very angry when he learned Ron left without telling him,” she continued. “Then this happened…” she trailed off, holding her cup.

Rick knew about that. It was just why he’d wanted Beatrice and Clarice to stay with them last night, having suspicions about the surgeon’s mental state.

The act perhaps also had made the man’s anger fuel more or perhaps it was because of what they had brought yesterday to his infirmary, Rick didn’t know for sure, not that he cared. They couldn’t talk a lot. Rick wouldn’t have minded a talk with the asshole, but Deanna had come quickly after Anderson opened his door and all became quiet after then, the doctor suddenly sobering up.

Still, Rick didn’t care. After the last night’s episode, he had become certain. The man was a problem. He had trashed his house in a drunken angry fit, the broken pieces of lamps and small furniture had been scattered even in the hallway. Rick wasn’t sure if he’d used his fists on his wife and his son. Jessie Anderson hadn’t said anything when Glenn talked to the woman while Rick tried to calm down the asshole, but he also saw the chipped wooden frame of the door.

The surgeon had punched the living room’s door, just like Beatrice had claimed before.

Carol. He needed to talk with Carol. She’d warned him to stay away. He still should heed her words, not get involved directly, even more so now after what had happened between them before they learned about the Wolves. But Rick also needed to get over this as quickly as possible. He didn’t have time to worry about Pete Anderson. Not right now.

No. Rick had a town to get into shape and protect, then—and then—he had to talk with Amanda and get things straight between them.

Because last night another thing had become certain for him. They’d kissed. Amanda let him kiss her but when Rick waited for her to make the next move, Amanda still couldn’t have. Rick couldn’t make any move anymore. It had to be her. Not only because he couldn’t take another of her ‘this was a mistake’ comments or her ‘we’re wrong for each other’ remarks, but it also had to be her decision as she was the one who had wanted a break.

Rick wanted everything to slow down like they’d first arrived in Alexandria, threats neutralized, his family stopping being a bargaining chip in the hands of an asshole. Each time Pete Anderson’s threatening words repeated in his mind, he barely restrained himself to stay put, an inch away from forgetting Carol’s warning, so Rick really needed this matter with Pete Anderson to settle down. For everyone’s sake.

The door buzzed and Aaron appeared in the already crowded kitchen a few seconds later with Glenn. “Deanna called the meeting in the community center in an hour,” the recruiter informed them.

Rick nodded in affirmative. Time to make the announcement.

The Reese sisters and Maria started gathering their stuff. Glenn was going to accompany them back to their house like he’d brought them in. Rick hovered over the doorway before they left.

“Glenn will be around,” he explained shortly, his attention more focused on the plump woman than Beatrice. The older woman looked more aware of the dangers than the older Reese, Rick gathered as she solemnly nodded.

“Rick—” Beatrice almost whispered beside the screen, dropping her tone a notch down. “Do you really think Pete could hurt us?”

Did he? Rick didn’t know. But he wasn’t taking any chances, not after last night. “It’s just a general precaution.”

After they left, Daryl and Joan returned from the infirmary, too, Joan looking worse to wear as she yawned tiredly, closing her mouth with one hand as she slumped in one of the stools. “How’s Nicholas?” Amanda asked.

Joan made a head gesture, taking the bowl of oatmeal they handed her. “He’s better. His fever has started dropping.” She turned to Rick. “We can’t know for sure yet if he’s totally out of the woods, but I think he’s good. We might consider taking his cuffs before he wakes up fully.”

“What do you recommend?” he asked, mulling the idea over his mind. “Is it safe?”

Joan took a few seconds in consideration before she replied. “Yeah. It is.”

“Okay—” Rick admitted, deciding to trust her opinion. He slid down from the stool he was perched on. “I go to the infirmary.”

Amanda leaped down from her seat, too. “I’m coming, too,” she stated coolly. “I want to see him.”

Rick nodded, somehow the notion making him feel better. They hadn’t stayed alone again after the brief kiss they shared last night, but if she didn’t mind being alone with him now, it meant things weren’t as bad as Rick had feared.

Yet, while they strode to the infirmary, they didn’t talk, just walked silently. When they entered inside, Aiden was already there beside his friend. Rick understood Joan had left him for the watch with the bitten man before she returned to the house.

“Morning—” Amanda said to the younger man as they walked closer. “How’s he?” she questioned. “Joan said he’s getting better.”

“Yeah. His fever is dropping.” The older Monroe paused again, giving Amanda a look. “Thank you. We couldn’t do it without you.”

Amanda murmured something indistinctive in response, passing a hand over the man’s forehead in an affectionate gesture. Her eyes darted over to him for a second, before she half nodded at him. Rick bent over the bed and uncuffed Nicholas.

When they left the infirmary, they were still silent. They turned back from the infirmary to head the community center, Amanda’s eyes drawing toward Pete Anderson’s house across the street at the other side before it vanished behind them.

“Jessie—” Amanda remarked suddenly, turning to him. “I want to talk with Jessie. Openly,” she added, still looking at him. “I didn’t like what I saw last night, Rick.”

Rick nodded briefly, admitting it. “Neither did I.”

“He trashed the house, right?”

Last night they really couldn’t have talked after he had returned with Glenn, and they all had already gone upstairs. Rick had stayed out on the porch almost all night like he’d planned, making rounds, surveying men at the platforms, checking the grounds before he left the watch to Glenn before the dawn to take a nap.

“Yeah—” he repeated with another nod. “He did.”

Amanda nodded back, her jaw squaring. “I’m gonna talk to her,” she repeated adamantly. “We shouldn’t lose time. We need to act. We need to convince her to file a complaint.”

They stopped on the patio in front of the community center. Rick checked inside the glass door to see if people had come, mulling what Amanda had just stated over his mind. An official complaint would work, at least would get Deanna to have a serious talk with the surgeon after last night, but there was something else Rick didn’t want to, either.

Amanda. He didn’t want Amanda to get involved with that mess, wanted her to stay away. You stay away from my family. I stay away from yours.

 Amanda was his family more than one way. Anderson wouldn’t know about it, wouldn’t know how different she was for Rick, how much Rick loved her or how barely he kept himself restrained whenever the asshole spoke to her. Rick had to keep her away from him.

His gaze at the glass door, Rick eyed the empty lobby. No one had come yet, or they were just inside in the big lounging area at the far end of the center. After a few seconds, Rick finally turned to Amanda. “No. Not you,” he said as Amanda looked back at him with narrowed eyes.

“What?” she asked.

“Carol can do it. You stay away.”

She frowned further. “Why?”

“Pete Anderson is already mad at you,” Rick replied, keeping his voice low, even though it was still firm. “You saw him yesterday. Let Carol do the talking. Perhaps, Joan too—” Rick added after a thought, not saying aloud what he’d passed in his mind.

Nevertheless, Amanda picked it up. Both Carol and Joan had suffered abuse. They could reach Jessie better than anyone, but Amanda still shook her head. “No. They need me, too,” she opposed. “Carol and Joan can do the talking, but I need to be there.”

This time Rick narrowed his eyes, regarding her closely, and he didn’t like what he saw. She should stay away. They should stay away, not get personal with Pete Anderson and his family. Rick couldn’t deal with this now, he just couldn’t.

“Amanda—” he warned, taking a step closer to her, but she cut him off, shaking her head agitatedly.

“I won’t look the other way, Rick!” she said heatedly, walking in on him too. “I won’t!”

“Amanda, I’m not saying you do,” he tried to reason with her. “This’s just not a good time. We’ve got other problems. Wolves, the town—” Rick continued, jerking his head at the glass door. “Pete Anderson isn’t our priority right now.”

Her eyes narrowed even further at his words. “Don’t give me excuses!” she snapped. “Don’t try to justify it, either!” she warned even before he opened his mouth. “I’m fed up with them!”

Excuse me?!” he cried out. “I’m not trying to justify anything! I only do what I have to.”

“Yeah, you only do what you have to, right?” Amanda asked back, shaking her head. “You always have a reason.”

Suddenly Rick felt they weren’t talking about Pete Anderson anymore, and when he looked at her he saw what was inside her eyes. Rick was tired, tired of that look, tired of trying to explain himself to her. I don’t accept, but I understand, her words in the funeral home came to him, truly realizing now what they meant.

With the words, other memories tried to break over his barriers, the way Lori jerked away from him, the way Amanda lashed out at him after Lizzie… You did this…

Rick shook his head and repeated what he’d told Aiden Monroe last night. “I don’t make the rules, Amanda.”

Amanda turned aside from him, making a low scoff out of her nose, bitter and resigned, but when she looked back at him, her expression held all the unshaken determination she carried deep in her core, her eyes as dark as emerald, sharp and edgy, before she repeated, “I won’t look the other way again, Rick.”

Without another word, she passed him by, opened the glass door, and walked inside.

Notes:

Ugh, while I edited this chapter, I also realized that this isn't a good place to take a break, as Amanda starts getting involved with Jessie Anderson more feeling guilt, so I'll put up the next chapter too before my break. Lol, I really don't seem to get back to writing...The next chapter is gonna have a talk between the ladies. I was really waiting a long time to deal with this stuff between Amanda, Joan, and Jessie, both Amanda and Joan getting personal trying to help Jessie because of their own traumas.

The clash between Amanda and Rick is needed too because Amanda's 'I don't accept but I understand' from the first story is the biggest conflict in their romance. She knows Rick's bestial side is needed, she understands that, but living with it is entirely another story. I think it's safe to say that Amanda is a mix of Carol and Morgan in the show right now. During sex, in the heat of the moment, she thinks she loves him wholly, the good, the bad, and the ugly. This is the ugly part. Lol, the things we think we can accept when we are in love, right? Then reality comes back and gives us a kick, heh

Chapter 33: 'Let us help you'

Summary:

Clarice observes the townspeople in the meeting, realizing how drastically her life changed since Carl and his family arrived in Alexandria. After the meeting and the announcement of the lockdown, Amanda tries to talk to Jessie Anderson with Carol and Joan.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When they returned to their house, their other Sheriff let them inside, reminding Bee and Maria to be in the community center an hour later before he left. The Korean man, Clarice remembered Carl telling her, gave a look at them from the other side of the street, his attention focused on the house at their left as he slowly climbed down.

Not wanting to stay alone with her older sister, Clarice followed him out and stayed on the porch in the cool morning air. Clarice liked the man more than she thought she would. There was something with him, something soothing that had even made Bee calm down so much that a part of her wished he stayed with them. But all things considered, Beatrice had reacted better for her standards. She’d fainted again, yes, but hadn’t fallen into a crying crisis until she stopped breathing. Clarice had seen her worse.

She slowly passed a hand over her lightly curled hair and thought of going up and straightening her hair. She couldn’t have done it this morning. It had been always the first thing she did in the mornings for years upon waking. She woke up and straightened her hair. Her bangs must be looking awful. They were going to be in the community center in a crowd. She bowed her head and checked her jeans and boots. It’d been a while since she’d put on her uniform. She still wore it whenever she went to the school, but those days had become lesser since Carl and his people had come to their town.

Even Eric had stopped making a fuss, knowing they were practicing for something else in the classes, not just skipping how they used to do. She passed her hand another time, remembering yesterday, the utter dread and panic she had felt when those men caught them.

Funnily, both Carl and Beth had looked cool. Clarice felt fear from them too, for all of them, those rotters and other men that wanting to hurt them, but there was no panic with Carl and Beth. They were coolheaded, their movements agitated and quick, but not anxious as they listened to every direction Officer Shepherd barked at them. She guessed that was what she’d been talking about why they should see it themselves, having the experience. Clarice had wanted to see it with her own eyes when she threatened Carl to take her out with him, but she hadn’t known. Now, she did.

She just didn’t know if the others would be that…open to the idea. There was a comfort with it, feeling yourself safe and protected behind the walls, Clarice couldn’t deny it, though she liked better the comfort of Carl’s gun that they had hidden in the greenhouse.

Her eyes wandering around, she wondered when Carl’s father would start teaching them how to use guns properly, and what else? What else they were going to teach them? Clarice wanted to learn all.

What else they did have now? Would she dance ballet?

She had always hated it anyways. Just used to go because Beatrice wanted her to because dancing was her mother’s favorite. So she had gone, even though she hated it, because a part of her felt also obliged to. She was the reason why her mother couldn’t dance anymore, so she should do it in her place.

Denise possibly would tell her she shouldn’t feel like that, like she had to make up for the things in her mother’s place, but a part of her still knew if her mother had been here now, she would have gone out of the woods, to see the monsters, to protect them. Bee and Maria always told her she was the most courageous woman they knew, insisting on giving birth to her even when the doctors had advised her not to do even when they’d warned her Clarice would claim her life in return. Bee and Maria left that part off from their narrative, of course, but Clarice had read between the lines.

So, she had to do it, too.

Her gaze drawing to Ron’s house, Clarice held a sigh inside. Ron’s father was getting worse again, only a fool couldn’t notice that. When she heard what had happened last night this morning, Clarice wasn’t surprised. She’d told Ron to tell his father they were going out. Funny enough Ron had lied even to her, had told her he’d spoken to his father, where in reality, apparently, he hadn’t.

Clarice didn’t have any love for Ron’s father, not after what he’d tried to do Beatrice, but he was always Dr. Anderson for her, Mr. Anderson’s firstborn son. Clarice didn’t have any love for Mr. Anderson too, god, every time the old man came to see her father or saw him in the dinner parties Clarice always made sure not to make his acquaintance. Ron didn’t mention his grandfather a lot, either.

She wondered about her friend, weighing the idea if she should go and check him. Usually, Clarice never went to their house, for obvious reasons, Ron coming to pick her up. It was an agreement they had decided on silently, both aware that it was better that way. Jessie had never behaved toward her with any hostility, but Clarice still didn’t enjoy being in her house. It felt…weird. All of them were aware of the looks sometimes Ron’s father still gave Beatrice.

Clarice supposed it was normal. They’d been friends for a long time, even before they were lovers. Bee knew him since she was a little girl, and Clarice suspected one of the reasons why they stayed in Carl’s house was because of that too, not only because Bee was close to another breakdown.

Clarice didn’t mind. She’d never stayed in another house since the outbreak. Carl’s house was so full, so crowded, there was even his baby sister, in a way it felt so lively. A part of her even felt sad leaving it this morning, but she of course hadn’t said it out loud.

She gave a last look at Ron’s house, and then turned back and walked inside their house. She better started straightening her hair if she didn’t want to be late for the big meeting. She took a quick shower, did her hair and her bangs carefully, and eyeing her clean uniform, she considered it.

The next second, she took it and started putting it on. She quickly tied her light pink ribbon over her collar, pinning her mother’s diamond brooch. She circled the waist of her dark navy skirt with her wide belt and put on the matching slim-fit cut blazer. She quickly applied the light makeup before she left her room and went downstairs.

Both Bee and Maria were in the living room. “Are you ready?” she asked, eyeing them in the door. They were in the same clothes from yesterday, but Beatrice at least had washed her face again.

They stood up. “Yes, Miss Beatrice—” Maria leaned over her, her voice holding that stern timber whenever she tried to talk some sense into her older sister. “Sheriff said all town needs to attend.”

Beatrice stood up with a loud drawled sigh. “Yeah. Rick is adamant that we all need to learn to fight.”

“Carl’s father is right, Bee—” Clarice told her before Maria spoke. “We all need to learn. I saw it yesterday.”

Her sister shook her head. “Please, don’t talk to me about yesterday yet, Cler—” she said, looking at her, then gave her one of her smiles. It wasn’t big and brash as her usual ones, but nevertheless, with it, Bee looked like her sister once more. “I just stopped crying.”

Clarice smiled back. They left the house then and started going to the community center. The whole town was out, everyone trekking toward the large white building across the pond from each direction. Clarice even caught the elderly Johnsons with their little adopted girl.

Aaron and Eric were walking behind them as Shelly slowly trudged through the dug gardens with her friend Lauren at the other side. From the east side, she also saw Tobin and Carter trotting agitatedly away from the third platform they had put up. They seemed to be arguing over something heatedly as Carter spoke to the older man with an agitated manner, leaning over as Tobin shook his head all the way.

Clarice had a fine guess about what they’d been arguing. Carter hadn’t liked Deanna’s last decision about Carl and his people joining them and made it certain that his thoughts were well known in the town. He’d talked to Tobin, Tobin had talked to Shelly in the bridge club, and Shelly talked to Maria, or was it someone else?

It was so hard to keep the track of gossip in the town. Lauren still sent seething glares whenever Carl’s father passed in the streets, accusing him of being heartless and merciless. Clarice would be the first to admit Lauren was even worse than Beatrice when it came to dramatics, but Carl’s father was frightening, that was something Clarice couldn’t deny, either.

Sometimes even Carl frightened her, the way he looked, just like Ron had said, and Beth—God knew Beth was a nutcase, but really, who of them wasn’t anymore?

That also didn’t change what Sheriff Grimes said most of the time was true; that they had to learn how to survive this world. How to fight.

As they walked into the community center, Clarice wondered if they would understand.

One look at the spacious foyer was almost enough even before they entered the lounge. The townspeople inside had been scattered around the sitting areas, some of them in round sofas, some at the tables, some perched on the stools along the bar at the far end.

Carl’s father was on the aisle, having an open view of the lounge. Beside him, his former girlfriend, Officer Shepherd, stood. Clarice had learned they were together only after Carl had told her. She could’ve never guessed it if Carl didn’t. She had never seen them doing the couple stuff together, had never seen them holding hands or giving each other brief kisses in the town. Most of the time they had been estranged from each other, but after Carl’s words, Clarice had started giving more attention and noticed them sneaking away in the town to the secret places before they had broken up. She had found it odd. It looked as if they were having a secret affair that everyone knew about, including even Carl. Clarice knew Carl hadn’t used to like seeing them together, so perhaps it’d been about that, but Carl felt so bad after their breakup, Clarice wished they would’ve made up soon. Clarice didn’t like seeing Carl like that. It made her feel…bad, too. She had become worried after Beatrice told her before they left for the patrol her guest for dinner had been the Sheriff, feeling another situation with Carl, too, but since returning from outside, from that horrible thing, Clarice had started seeing Carl’s father and Officer Shepherd together once again in the town.

They stood side by side now too, waiting for the townspeople to arrive. Carl’s father’s face was stern and Officer Shepherd’s stark, expressionless, just like how she looked whenever someone complained in her track, refusing to jump over the obstacles or go in the mud.

Mud course was the most challenging thing she had forced them to do, especially when there was no sun in the sky. The cold became almost unbearable as they tried to crawl under the cargo nets, something so far only Clarice and Ron had managed to complete.

Clarice had almost quit the last time after quitting the third time in the last week and asked help, but something held her tongue as she forced herself to go on, pull herself up and out of mud and nets, and crawl, just crawl. It was so cold, so chilly, and she couldn’t even see properly, her eyes were hurting, mud was inside everywhere, even in her eyes, but Clarice just kept crawling.

Her mother wouldn’t have given up, so Clarice didn’t, either, kept crawling on her knees and elbows until she was free.

Trembling with cold, tired beyond belief, her every inch of skin wet with mud, Clarice stood there, and she laughed. Carl came to her side then, hugged her, not minding the mud on herself, congratulating her, telling her she did awesome, and Clarice hugged him back. That was the Carl Grimes Clarice liked.

The memory brought a smile to her lips as her eyes searched for her boyfriend.

She’d just told it to Ron to get him off her neck, but the word pleased her in a way she didn’t know it would’ve. Her boyfriend. The cute town boy with his funny hat. Sheriff’s son.

Her eyes drew again toward the duo on the aisle as they stood still, not talking, just watching the townspeople with heavy eyes. Clarice wondered if they had fought after they left. This morning they weren’t like this. She was even a bit surprised to see Carl’s father with his baby sister, feeding the baby beside the kitchen island. It was a homey picture Clarice would have never expected from the taciturn morose man, always watching them warily or scornfully. He always had a stern kindness, too, even the utterance of a simple ‘please’ came out of his mouth like a firm order.

But while he fed his daughter, he looked almost like her own father. His scowling mouth had relaxed, his brows weren’t frowning, and instead of wariness mixed scorn or exasperation, he looked at his daughter with warm eyes. This morning Sheriff Grimes looked like another man, and now he looked something else too, his right hand at his lower waist, his hip tucked out as his eyes watched them closely. Then his gaze suddenly shifted toward the entrance, and Officer Shepherd followed it quickly before Clarice doing the same and saw that their own people arrived, too.

In their back lines, Clarice picked up Carl. He was with Beth, padding inside slowly as their looks searched the spacious lounge. His eyes noticed her a second later as Clarice looked at him, and he started walking to her, leaving the others.

The notion made Clarice almost smile, something turning in her stomach, but she pushed down her excitement. “Hey.”

Carl nodded, looking around the room. “Everyone came?”

Clarice shrugged. “Almost. But Deanna still hasn’t.”

Carl gave her another nod as Beth joined them. The rest of their other people stayed at the left side of the aisle platform as Clarice still stood in the backside of the room with Beatrice and Maria. For the first time in her life, she supposed Beatrice wanted to fade in the background.

She saw Francine walking in the lounge, following Heath and the rest of her team. Aiden and Spencer walked in after them and quickly went over to Carl’s father. They exchanged a few quick words together, at which Carl’s father just nodded, then his head snapped up, his expression grew sterner, his eyes sending a glower at the entrance.

They all followed his look silently, and Clarice saw Ron entering, his family at his heels. Doctor Anderson paraded toward the round sofas in the front side of the lounge. Carl’s father’s and Officer Shepherd’s eyes followed them, but Officer Shepherd’s gaze mostly was on Ron’s mother as they took a seat beside Carter.

Ron’s eyes cut over to them, turning aside, but he sat down beside his father without a word. It saddened Clarice. Despite everything, she didn’t want things to be like this. They were friends. Ron had been her friend even before Beatrice had started dating his father. But now, he was staying over there.

But she couldn’t think over it more, because all the whispers suddenly hushed down when Deanna stepped into the lounge.

The old woman climbed on the aisle beside Carl’s father and Officer Shepherd and looked at them. “I’m sure you already know why we gathered you here—” she started as slow murmurs started among them. “But you need to know more in details—” she continued, raising her tone an octave above the murmurs, and darted a quick look at Carl’s father beside her. “Rick will speak to you. He’s got an announcement to make.”

With that, Carl’s father took a step forward as Deanna took one back, Officer Shepherd climbing down the aisle, stood beside a sitting group where their people were seated. She didn’t sit down herself, though, just stood there, her hip resting along the couch’s headboard as she looked at them.

“You all heard what happened yesterday—” Sheriff Grimes started, his curt blue eyes shifting a look over at his former girlfriend. “What Officer Shepherd discovered.”

“Yeah—” It was Carter who spoke out first, standing up, “You encountered some hostiles outside. What’s the big news? We already knew there’re people out there who could hurt us—” He paused for a second, his eyes wandering over the people. “Right?”

There were low murmurs among them in accordance, and even Carl’s father nodded, sending Carter a grave look. “Yeah. And that’s why we need to prepare.”

“I still don’t see what that has anything to do with what you did last night!” Carter shot back, his voice heating up.

But the other man was as cool as ice, his gaze was like frosted glass. “That’s about everything—” he replied sternly. “Have you ever seen a walker before, Carter?”

Tobin’s second in command looked taken aback with the direct question as Deanna regarded them closely, but in silence, not interrupting. Clarice wasn’t the only one who had looked at their leader too, as other heads turned to the older woman, like Clarice did.

“No—” Carter admitted lowly after the brief pause.

Carl’s father nodded, but when he spoke the next, his head raised, he wasn’t only looking at Carter anymore but was looking at all of them. “That’s unacceptable—” he told them firmly.

“Today we’re gonna put an end to this. The monsters that are out there are real,” he continued with the same firmness. “The dangers are real. You’re not in a movie where a miraculous rescue will save you before the end. You need to accept this.” There was another round of murmurs circling them, all eyes turning to Deanna, who still stayed silent. “Starting today, this's gonna be how it is. All hands will be on board. All the other activities, all the clubs, all the gatherings you have are suspended until further notice.”

And finally the clamor Clarice had been waiting for broke. The shouts and whats started rising altogether, some people standing up, some of them sitting but still opposing, as Clarice simply watched it. Beatrice’s face had paled a bit, but aside from it, she was holding up. Carl and Beth were like monoliths, as much as Ron and his father, watching the scene silently.

“All of you start Officer Shepherd’s course now—” Their sheriff continued unaffected by the reaction, jerking his head at his former girlfriend. Looking at her, Clarice caught the police officer glancing at Ron’s mother again before she shifted her eyes away.

“You do nothing but get into shape until she’s satisfied.” Clarice almost pitied the townspeople. Officer Shepherd wasn’t easy to satisfy, Clarice had learned it by experience. “Then we take you out. No exceptions.”

“Deanna!” Carter called out, turning to their leader. “Deanna! Are you okay with this?”

She nodded slowly. “We do as he says—” she announced briskly. “Let him do his job. That’s why he’s here.”

“B-but do we have to go out?” Shelly asked, her eyes watery, holding herself back from tears.

Yes—” he replied pointedly, stressing out the word. “You must. You must know how it is outside. If we get attacked or have to evacuate the town, you're going to be out in the woods. If you don’t know how to survive that, you all will die.”

The way he stated it made her wince, so simple, so matter-of-fact, which also made Shelly’s tears break. She started crying. He didn’t even blink. “We’re going to prepare an evacuation plan and set up safe houses. You need to learn how to reach them in the woods, memorize the routes.”

“Can’t we have maps instead?” some of them asked, already starting to bargain, but this time it wasn’t Carl’s father who answered, but Officer Shepherd. She took a step forward away from the couch she was still supporting herself against.

“No. You can’t rely on anything when it happens. It’s gotta be in your mind. The bottom line with the evacuations and safe houses is emergency—” she said calmly, taking another step forward. “Imagine yourself under attack. If you make a detour to find maps and such, you would likely fail. The scope with contingency plans is to become aware of the situation quickly and get to safety as fast as possible. For that, you need to have situational awareness.”

Clarice recognized the tactical word. It was one of the first things Officer Shepherd had taught them in the field. She’d also called it then field awareness, suddenly pushing a tire swing at her while Clarice was trying to jump over an obstacle from her side, which had made her fall on her face. She’d told Clarice that she was there pushing the swing toward Clarice, but Clarice didn’t see it because she wasn’t paying attention, solely focused on the track ahead of her.

She had warned them then they should be mindful of their surrounding, not only focusing on one single thing, limiting their perceptual field. After seeing the woman in the woods yesterday, quickly gathering that they had been set up, Clarice understood clearly what she had been talking about. Clarice wished she could have the same perceptivity one day, too.

Carl’s father continued as soon as she stopped talking, not pausing a second as if he’d been himself who was doing the talk as if they were reading each other minds. Clarice supposed it was the part of being a couple, even on a break. “Maps are a safety risk too,” he declared. “We can drop them, lose them, hell, even might forget them somewhere. Safe houses will have secret caches. Food, first aid kits, weapons. If a group finds them, in at best scenario, we arm some people and they leave. In at worst scenario, they find us and attack.”

“You’re such a positive man!” Carter cried out.

“I’m a realist—” Sheriff Grimes encountered sternly. “Things don't get better because you want them to!”

“You’re trying to scare us!” Carter retorted, jerking up to his feet as his voice rose. “All this talk… Deanna—” he turned to the leader once more before his eyes also slanted a look at Aiden. “Don’t you see it? He uses our fear to get us under his control.”

Deanna gave him a look, but it was Aiden who spoke this time. “He’s not lying, Carter—” he said. “The dangers are real. There’s no point in denying it. We have to protect what we have, and we need more men,” he admitted. “We can’t even manage to rotate the shifts.”

“We’re going to divide responsibilities. Some will patrol, some will take watches, some will help Officer Shepherd—” Sheriff Grimes cut in. The crowd was silent now as if they had finally admitted after they had been trying to tell after Aiden’s last remark.

“Dr. Anderson, Joan, and Bob will give you a first aid class—” Frosted blue eyes skipped quickly at the doctor before they moved away. Doctor Anderson stayed like he was before, motionless.

“I will take you out for showing you around and for range practicing—” Clarice this time sent a look at Carl who was just listening to his father, looking thoughtful. Her lips pulled out a little, and he returned it faintly. “And the kids, too.”

Another commotion erupted out of the silence. A loud chorus of whats and no ways echoed around them as Clarice stared at Carl. He shrugged halfway, giving back her a look. Beatrice let out a sharp noise out of her nose, her mouth agape. Clarice felt the same startle too.

Children?

Children with guns. She knew some parents brought their children to range practicing since a small age, like Ron and his father, but her father had never been one of those parents. By the judging of the clamor inside the spacious room, the rest of their fellow townspeople weren’t either.

Yet, Sheriff Grimes was as adamant as ever.

“They need to learn—” he continued; not taken aback with the reaction he was receiving like before. “We won’t carry guns inside the walls like how it’s now—” He set down the rules, his eyes cutting over to Deanna once more. “But all houses need to have access to weapons for emergencies.” The clamor rose further. “It’s the safety protocol—” he raised his voice too. “They need to know how to handle them just in case. We’re gonna teach them.”

Half of the lounge room was up to their feet now, opposing him heatedly. “No!” Lauren shouted, shaking her red hair agitatedly. “You can’t teach my five-year-old girl how to use a gun! That’s NOT happening!” She turned to Deanna. “Deanna! Tell something!”

 Deanna’s old face looked cross, almost pained as she told them again, “Rick’s right. It’s better than the alternative.”

As another surge of opposition rose in the room, Officer Shepherd stepped on the aisle again quickly. “Listen to me!” she almost shouted, raising her hand, trying to get the crowd to hear her words over the loud, angry commotion. “We did it before. Children need to learn how to handle themselves under duress. They all have to see it. You need to teach them. That’s your duty!”

“So we need to take them out too!” Carter shouted back. “Do you want to take out the kids?”

She shook her head. “No. We have another plan.” She paused for a second, her eyes skipping toward her former boyfriend, too, like he did many times during the talk, and they shared a glance. “We need to teach you something else, too.”

“What?” someone from the crowd uttered.

She stayed silent as Carl’s father answered. “We’re gonna bring in still animated walkers and show ‘em to the kids.” His eyes grew sterner before he added. “Then you all will learn how to cut up one.”

Then screams started.

# # #

Saying that the townspeople had rioted after Rick’s last statement wouldn’t have been an understatement. As the crowd rallied against the idea, Amanda even heard some shouts of ‘over my dead body’.

Despite it cringed her, Amanda still thought it wasn’t a bad idea. She’d seen worse. A lot—a lot of worse. She’d spun a lot worse, too, but none of these people had, and this was getting tiresome.

Rick’s face was still the same, a clear, stark expression indicating that he was fed up with the townspeople, but Amanda didn’t care of his feelings as of the moment, even the meeting had backtracked in her thoughts now. During the whole meeting, she couldn’t help but spy looks at Jessie, her last fight with Rick still too fresh in her mind.

He wanted her to look the other way. The thought almost made her grit her teeth again. She couldn’t do that. Not again. She’d doubted herself for her decision to help Liam, still having qualms about it, but this was different.

Jessie was already here, and she would die before she let another asshole treat another woman how Gorman had treated Joan. No. Never again. She thought Rick would understand, but apparently, he didn’t care all that much.

She shouldn’t be surprised. Rick had his priorities, and nothing would stray him off his path once he made up his mind, but Amanda was getting sick, sick of hearing his excuses, his justifications. There was always something.

He didn’t accept that, but he always had an excuse. Some emergency, some priority, some doom awaiting them. Amanda was tired of that, too, tired of him being always right even when he was wrong. Because there was also another part of her that knew he was still right.

They had more at stake here than Pete Anderson. They weren’t even sure of what was really happening. Perhaps it was just her guilty conscience making up excuses for her to help someone else because she had failed Joan.

Amanda didn’t know, and the thing was that she couldn’t know unless she got involved. Granted, Joan and Carol could do it too, could make Jessie talk, but Amanda needed to be there. It wasn’t something she could stay on the sidelines and watch.

No. She couldn’t watch it again, not doing anything.

She had to be there—told—told Jessie she didn’t need to do it…whatever it was she was doing. Just stood there at least, gave the woman another option, another chance.

The night when she had confessed to Rick came to her, how she felt something rotting deep inside her, worse than the dead ones. She still didn’t want to do it to herself. She’d told Rick she didn’t want to pass the rest of her life in regret, and she had meant it. Was she being selfish again? Wanting to help Jessie for herself? Would it matter why she wanted it if Jessie really needed help?

Damn you, Rick Grimes! Damn you to hell and back!

Rick didn’t do regret well. Or he told himself like that. He had a different approach to take the responsibility for his actions, but Amanda still could remember how he was with Father Gabriel, telling the man his regret didn’t mean anything, telling Amanda he was truly sorry for everything, but still didn’t regret it after Lizzie.

No. Rick didn’t do regret well, but neither Amanda did. Nor she did easily forget.

Something still didn’t fit. She understood that she wasn’t on the list of the surgeon’s most favorite people in the town with Rick right now, but avoiding conflict was her thing, not Rick’s. Facing a conflict in which he wasn’t emotionally involved like their relationship, Rick tried to reason, tried his speeches, if nothing else, then made a direct, open confrontation, just right in your face, but he didn’t stay on the sidelines.

That wasn’t Rick, it simply wasn’t. There was something else was going on. She wanted to go and asked him what the hell was happening, but she didn’t know. In the last two days, they were either fighting or fucking, so she was a bit afraid of trying that.

Besides, the townspeople were still screaming. She raised her hands again, trying to calm them down. “Listen to me—” she raised her voice above the shouting. “You can’t shelter your children indefinitely. They have to learn how to fly the nest,” she repeated her words back in the prison as Rick shot at her a glance.

“This’s the safest way to start,” she continued as the shouts started subsiding a little. Deanna was regarding her closely now, her head half titled aside, and there was something else in her eyes too, something Amanda couldn’t be sure of, but she understood better now why the old woman wanted Rick to lead the meeting, using him as a shield.

“It’s gonna be under a controlled environment,” she went on, turning her attention back to the crowd. All the commotion hushed down, they were listening to her silently now. “So when something happens, they wouldn’t freak out. Even then it wouldn’t be enough, but at least they won’t get into shock.”

“And that other thing?” she said, tilting her head toward Rick. “It’s for your safety. When you’re out in the woods, it can save your life, your loved ones. It’s the easiest protection, but you have to know how to do it properly.”

Butchering a rotter and disguising yourself with its rotting remnants was never fun, but it was also dangerous. One little cut, a scratch over the skin, and you were done. “You can’t be serious about this—” a redhead woman replied, shaking her head. There were still no shouts or cries, but as they started talking civilly, Amanda knew they won the first round. She was a bit surprised she’d managed to calm down the nerves and fears, the way they’d listened to her, but she let it go as the redheaded woman continued. “Smearing one of those things over us?”

Rick nodded calmly, still standing like an unyeilding sculpture that had faced a raging storm. “It helps to disguise your smell,” he explained. “Walkers are drawn to smell the most like hounds. If you make no sound and limp beside them in that way, they leave you alone.”

They all looked at him stupefied. Deanna was still silent, just watching them. “I know how it sounds—” Rick continued with the same calm but firm voice. “But you’re gonna need to do more challenging stuff than this if you want to survive.”

“You’ve been lucky until now, but luck runs out.” His eyes shifted toward her as he repeated her words in the prison too before he also remarked, “You all know what Officer Shepherd had to do yesterday outside.”

The words made Amanda feel suddenly icy. She twisted aside to him. “You all might need to do it someday, to someone you love. Can you?” Rick questioned, looking at the townspeople openly. His eyes had no softness now as he questioned. “Are you up to this?”

No one made a sound.

“Because that’s what you’re against,” Rick finished mercilessly.

They all looked back at him silently, and Amanda knew the townspeople had started to know Rick Grimes truly.

After that, they started leaving the lounge, only a few of them staying. Amanda still saw the tall bald man, Tobin’s project manager shaking his head agitatedly, muttering something under his breath as he left, but the others seemed much more subsided. Pete Anderson looked expressionless as he herded his family out, his face ashen, expressionless.

Amanda wanted to pull away Carol and talk to her about what to do, how to do it. She wanted to deal with this as quickly as possible, not only because of what had happened with Rick in front of the patio. Things were escalating in the Anderson family. They had to cool down. Pete Anderson was still the town’s surgeon, so it might be even better to interrupt before things got out of control. Like how they hadn’t with Gorman before and when they had tried, it was too late.

Carol perhaps had been right on that part. Sending her to exile had sort of saved her. Carol had mentioned before about finding duck nests in the grounds for their eggs, perhaps they should do it. That would give them enough pretense to stray the woman away from his husband and have a private talk.

She wondered when they would do it as she supposed she would start another class in the afternoon. They needed to finish the classes as soon as possible. She eyed the remaining people, trying to form up a quick plan. There was Rick, of course, Daryl and Joan standing with him, talking quietly. Glenn was with Abraham, Rosita, as the former sergeant looked soberer. Sasha had left for the bell tower, Bob taking a shift with Jeff. Aiden and Richards were standing with Heath and two more of his team.

Deanna, Reg, Spencer, and Tobin had made another circle at the other side, and Carol somehow was with them, too. In fact, the older woman was standing a bit too close to Tobin. Amanda almost arched her eyebrow as Rick turned toward them, walking in front of the aisle, but not stepping on.

“A’right—” he called out as they turned to him. “Glenn, Amanda, and I made a step-by-step action plan last night,” Jerking his head at her and Glenn, Rick started explaining the plan they had formed to Deanna.

“How long would it take?” the older woman asked, looking at Rick after he finished.

“I don’t know,” Rick replied truthfully. “It depends on the townspeople’s cooperation. We need to finish evacuation plans, figure out something first too. Perhaps more than one egress point. Alexandria is a big place,” he repeated. “We need to divide it into grids, prepare action plans. Make gun caches at the spots for emergencies. And we still need to patrol, look for the Wolves while doing it all.”

 “Perhaps it’s better if we pull back all of our forces to defense—” Aiden argued. “The woods are huge too. We have to man the platforms, watches, and the bell tower at the same time. I know you want outside patrols, but doing it regularly would slow us down.”

“We’ll think of something—” Rick replied, turning to Amanda and Abraham. “When can you start?”

“This afternoon.” The sun was setting down earlier now as the winter was fast approaching, but she could finish the five-hour course for a group before darkness fell.

Rick gave another nod. “A’right. Do it. We search the grounds.”

“I want to see your plan—” Deanna told him before they left the community center. “A detailed report too, which groups doing whats.”

“Yeah—” Rick said, bobbing his head once more before he turned and walked out.

As they headed back to the house, Amanda got closer to Carol and Joan. “We talk to Jessie today. After my class. Do you remember those ducks and the eggs we talked about?” she asked. It’d been Carol’s first attempt to break the ice between them with small talk in the book club. “We take her and look for them.”

 They nodded affirmative, so Amanda left for her training field, taking her notepad. It was close to afternoon now, so she checked her field first then prepared a list of five people that hadn’t set a foot onto her field so far yet, adding Beatrice’s name to the list as well.

It was time the heiress graced them with her presence.

It wasn’t out of grudge. After last night and Rick’s admission, her jealousy had…waned down, but Beatrice’s appearance would make a good impression on the town, to show them their determination. Walking to Aaron’s house, zipping her leather jacket up against the cold, she gave the list to Aaron and told him to gather them in an hour. Aaron was sort of the concierge service of the town, always asking them to visit Deanna, so Amanda thought it was appropriate.

While she dealt with the field, Beth found her. She was alone. It was a bit of surprise as she was seldom in these days. The teenage girl stuffed her hands into her pockets, regarding her closely while Amanda controlled a wooden obstacle. “Hey, what’s up?”

Beth shook her head. “Nothing. Just came to check on you—” she answered.

Straightening back, Amanda gave her a look, her eyes narrowing. “Is everything okay?”

Beth eased off a shrug. “Yeah.” She paused. “I was wondering if I can join patrol teams. Take watches.” She gazed at the training field. “I feel ready, Amanda.”

The refusal, saying she wasn’t ready came to the tip of her tongue but swallowing it down, Amanda stayed silent. A part of her was still wanted to decline, but the truth was that Beth was right. There wasn’t left much for Beth to learn from her. She needed to start having her own experiences. Especially now when they needed every possible capable hand on board. That was what they had been asking from others, too. It was for everyone’s good.

Amanda nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll talk with Aiden to see where we can place you.”

“Thanks—” Beth said, her eyes wandering the field before they turned to her once more. “You did quite well in the meeting—” she told Amanda suddenly. “I think Deanna saw it too.”

Confused, Amanda stared at her. “Saw what?”

“How you took the control of the room—” Beth said openly as Amanda kept staring at her. Beth shook her head, sighing. “That’s you, Mandy. I thought you already admitted it when you accepted Abraham’s offer to lead one of the teams.”

Amanda shook her head. “No. That was different, Beth.”

“No—” Beth refused with the same stubbornness she had. “Don’t you see? Everyone listens to you, too, when you speak.”

As Beth left, Amanda watched her retreating thoughtfully, a part of her knowing that the teenage girl had a point. She’d noticed Deanna’s looks in the meeting, and yes, she’d managed to calm down the townspeople, made them listen to her, just like they listened to Rick.

She thought the times she had heard her name shouted in the air, next to Rick’s, since they found each other after Terminus. The truth was there, but Amanda still didn’t want to face it. No, being a leader wasn’t her. Even though a part of her might have started questioning her place in life, especially after Denise’s damn words about taking risks and such, she was still fine with being a foot soldier.

No. Leading wasn’t for her. She couldn’t lead anything. Shouldn’t, either. She screwed up everything.

Half an hour later, her first five started slowly wandering into the field. Amanda shut down the thought and started the class. Five hours passed like a blink. She saw Rick and Daryl inspecting the grounds carefully together with Aiden and a few others as Amanda taught the basics to the class, leaving the obstacle course off of the program. There was going to be no jumping over the obstacles or ditches or crawling in the mud for those people. At least, not right now.

“Always make sure to put some angle into your blow—” she advised, showing the class how to make a clean sweep through the bone and flesh with a machete. “If you strike straight, your blade will get stuck, making you defenseless, open to an attack in meantime.”

The class made a sweeping arch over their heads just like Amanda had shown as her eyes cut over to Rick and the others as they walked in front of them. Beatrice let out low laughter. “This isn’t that hard—” the younger woman commented, sounding pleased with herself.

Returning her look to her class, Amanda couldn’t help. Her lips pulled out into a smile. Enthusiasm was good, and despite the shock of the morning, her cadets looked eager. Shockingly, Beatrice Reese was one of the most skilled ones with the blades in the group. It baffled Amanda first, but she remembered the ceramic statues the woman made herself. Carving and sculpting, Beatrice knew blades, that was sure.

“Yeah, but be careful—” yet Amanda still warned, coming closer. She corrected some of the class’s less skillful attendances’ stance and grip. “Make sure to complete the sweep to pull it back easier.”

She paused again as Rick and his company checked the masonry wall behind them, her eyes flickering toward them for a split second. “It isn’t hard,” she went on, returning her attention to the class. “The skulls of most of the dead are rotted by now.”

Time was happening for them, too. They weren’t dead, they weren’t alive, but entropy was still working on them in the same way.

A retching sound came from the backlines. “That’s disgusting.”

“That’s an advantage—” Amanda corrected. “Something we should be grateful for,” she continued, circling the lines, her eyes on her cadets now sternly. “As time passes, the corpses get weaker and sloppier. It makes them easier targets. The weakest points in the skull are the eyes sockets and the back of the neck. Always aim for those first.”

The enthusiasm dampened a bit after that, but they still bobbed their heads dutifully.

When the sky started darkening, Amanda let them go. The gloom of the dusk had already fallen in, so she’d better started to hurry and find Carol and Joan. She started heading back to the house, but Rick suddenly cut her way before she left the training field.

“Hey—” he said, putting one hand against his hip, pointing the retreating people from the field. “How did it go?”

“Good—” Amanda replied. “They did all the stuff I asked them to do.”

Rick nodded. “Good.”

“You?” Amanda questioned, looking around. “Found anything?”

Rick shook his head. “No. Not yet. But we’re looking around.”

A sudden thought came at her. “Tomorrow I’m gonna ask Noah to look around—” she remarked as Rick half frowned at her. “He’s good at spotting weak spots. He devised an escape plan at Grady—” she explained. “Using elevator shaft was his plan.”

“Ah,” Rick said, jutting his hip further. “Yeah. It might be good.”

“I asked Aiden about the sewers,” Rick continued. “We escaped once using the sewers in Atlanta. Might as well check them.” Amanda nodded. “Aiden said there is still the old sewage system in the grounds when the county was built. They don’t use it, but it’s still intact. Perhaps we can find something there.”

Amanda nodded again. “Yeah.”

They stayed silent for a second, and Amanda wondered why Rick had come. Because it didn’t look like he had come to talk about…sewers.

Like she suspected, he didn’t disappoint. He took a step closer to her. “Amanda,” he started, “about what talked before the meeting—”

“We already had this fight, Rick—” Amanda cut him off, shaking her head. “And I already told you. I’m not looking the other way.”

Rick gave her a long, assessing look. Amanda almost opened her mouth and asked him what the hell was going on, but Rick still looking at her nodded at last. “Okay—” he said lowly. “What’re you going to do?”

Startled with the sudden admission, Amanda stared at him, not understanding what was happening, aside from the fact that Rick let it go. Something was happening, definitely happening, and she still couldn’t understand.

“What I told you—” she replied, trying to sort out her thoughts. “I am going to talk to her.” Perhaps it was just her. Nothing was going on. It was just her reading too much over the signs.

Was it her guilt, too?

God. Suddenly she almost wished to see Denise and…and…what? Told her what exactly? She shook her head mentally.

“We need to get her to admit it if there’s something.” She paused for a beat. “Carol mentioned ducks in the pond when we were in the book club. If we can find their nests, we can find their eggs, too. We ask her to help us to look for them.”

“Okay—” Rick repeated with another nod. “Be careful.”

“Yeah—” Amanda said as they started walking to the houses silently.

They stopped in front of the houses for a second, looking at each other, before they separated their ways to go to their separate houses with a slight tilt of the head, Rick only giving her a quick look before he walked down on their driveway. The notion suddenly brought back sadness to Amanda as she watched him for a few seconds before she did the same and trekked in her driveway.

The attic was exactly like how she’d left it. When Amanda set a foot inside the room, it all hit her.

Her eyes wandered around, drawing to the bed. The sheets were rumbled, stuck out of the mattress, she could even see faint stains his semen had left, the pieces of the puzzle still scattered across the surface, pillows half on the floor, half on the bed. The poignant smell of sex and alcohol was still in the stale air, filling her nostrils.

Snapshots came assaulting at her as her eyes lingered on the headboard, the way she clutched it as Rick drove in her deeply, hugging her tightly from her behind.

Her breath hitching, Amanda spun on her heels and threw herself out of the room. She couldn’t stay there. Later. She was going to deal with it later in the night. Would come back and clean it. Change the sheets, clean the room, open the windows to fresh the air. Just not now. Quickly she climbed down the steps and stepped out on the porch to wait for Carol and Joan.

Thank god, it didn’t take long the other women stepped out of their screen door too. As soon as they appeared on their porch, Amanda started descending from hers and trotted toward them.

“Are you ready?” she asked, joining them at the sidewalk.

“Yeah—” Carol replied with a nod. “Let’s go.” The older woman paused for a second, slanting a look at her and Joan. “I do the talking. I’ll try to open her up first.”

They both nodded. That was their plan at first place when they went to the book club, Carol warming up the woman. Quickly they trekked to the community center. Jessie usually passed her time in there until the evening even after her class, instead of going back to her house.

Amanda wondered if it was because she didn’t want to return because Pete Anderson usually passed his time in the house after midday, leaving the infirmary.

There were still a few townspeople dawdling in the lounge area when they walked back into the room. Amanda recognized the tall balding man, Carter, among the others, talking to them agitatedly as they circled the tall man in front of the aisle Rick and Amanda had stood on a few hours ago.

Once they noticed them entering inside, the agitated voices hushed down. Carter’s eyes turned to them, openly regarding them. They stayed silent, walking toward the public library at the left corner.

The men left after then, and Carol giving their backs a look turned to them. “I’ll look for Jessie.”

Joan and Amanda nodded again, staying behind in the pretense of looking for a book about…ducks. Carol came back a few minutes later with Jessie.

“There must be a book here about the wildlife in Virginia woods,” the blond woman commented as they walked toward them in front of the library. “Joan asked about it a week ago too—” Her eyes slanted at Joan, who nodded quickly.

“I checked the books we have in the infirmary—” Joan replied quickly. “Nothing about ducks, I’m afraid.”

Carol gave the woman a small, apologetic smile. “I don’t believe we need a book to find their nests,” she said with a smile. “But it’d be good to know how to collect their eggs without causing them extinction accidentally.”

Amanda was half sure Carol already had that knowledge, and she was also sure Beth might know some stuff as well, but she wasn’t going to say that to Jessie Anderson. “Yeah, that’d be bad—” the blond woman approved as they searched through the library.

They gave up a few minutes later, not finding anything. Jessie turned to Carol. “I’m sorry. I guess you just need to do it. Make sure to leave a couple of them in the nests. I think it would be fine.”

Carol nodded. “Yes. Sounds like the best idea.” She paused for a second. “Do you want to come with us?” she asked then. “We wouldn’t say no an extra pair of eyes.”

Jessie shook her head. “I need to get back home, prepare dinner. It’s almost evening.”

“Eh, imagine bringing a real omelet to the table the next morning—” Joan cut in. “Carol told us she could spare us an egg if we help find the nests.”

Jessie laughed lightly. “That’s a good motivation, I admit.”

“So you coming?” Carol asked as Amanda stayed silent during the whole exchange, letting them make the sweet talk as Carol had advised.

Jessie nodded, seemingly taken by the prospect of a real omelet, and who wouldn’t? Amanda couldn’t even remember the last time she had eaten real eggs. Those had been the first supplies that they had run out at Grady and then finding poultry animals that hadn’t been devoured by the dead in the city would have been a miracle itself.

“I can’t believe none of us have looked for the nests until now—” Jessie commented lowly as they started roaming in the small groove around the pond. Her eyes were drawn toward the trees a couple of times, toward the serpent circle that Beth had carved, but each time Amanda turned them away. She wondered if anyone else other her had seen them, understood what it meant.

She noticed there were no new carvings with a lighter heart. They were getting better, Amanda told herself. Beth was going to start patrolling like she wanted, coming back, Rick was going to get the town safe and protected. Amanda was going to finish the classes and help this woman, offer her a chance, an option. Beth’s words were still in her mind too, but Amanda shook her head mentally. This wasn’t leading, she didn’t even lead anything now. Carol was behind the wheel. Amanda was the auxiliary unit. The backup force they needed.

“Yeah—” Jessie said, bent down over a bush to check under it. “I guess we never thought about it, just trying to make with the food in the pantry.”

“Shelly has been talking about the beets—” Joan countered, checking another bush. “Carol made acorn and beets cookies.”

Her head lifted over the bush she was bent over, Jessie gave them a confused look. “Acorn and beets?”

“Yes.” Carol nodded with a fleeting smile at her. “I’ll teach you.”

Amanda decided to join in the conversation, wondering how Carol was going to breach the topic. “It’s better than it sounds. Carol’s very skillful with foraging. She makes the best of it.”

Carol smiled kindly again with that smile, and Amanda understood she’d given the older woman an opening. “I learned from the best.”

Straightened from the bush, they moved to another one. “You all seem very capable people,” Jessie mused out slowly, grabbing the barks of another bush and pushed them aside to check the bottom of it.

Carol laughed again in the same way. “We weren’t always like this. But Rick taught us well. Amanda’s class is gonna be good for y’all.”

Jessie looked away, letting the bush, and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Will you come again, right?” Amanda interjected. “I need to complete the basic course for the rest of the town first, but you can continue on the advanced class after we’re finished if you want.”

Jessie gave her a look. “Can I?” she asked, sounding almost surprised. “I mean—was I good?”

“Yeah—” Amanda replied with a nod. “You have…potential.” It wasn’t a lie. Jessie wasn’t one of the best trainees she had, but she was good enough. With proper training and practice, she would make a decent addition to the watches and patrols. She would also build a little bit of self-confidence in that way, find an inner strengthen as Carol and Joan had, make her trust herself more.

But like how Amanda also expected, the blond woman rejected the idea. Opening up to a new idea, changing herself was one of the hardest things in the world, something Amanda had personally learned. She’d thought she had changed, but well, in hindsight, perhaps she had been just kidding herself. Her thoughts started spiraling further, so Amanda stopped them. This was about Jessie Anderson, she reminded herself; them trying to help a woman who might need a little bit help, give her a nudge for something else.

“No. I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Jessie slowly said. “Pete doesn’t want us to get involved with the security stuff.”

For that, Amanda wasn’t surprised, either. It was a fight she had had with Rick, as well, but it was different for her. Rick didn’t want her to endanger herself, wanted to protect her, keep her safe, but Amanda wasn’t a damsel in distress. More than a couple of times, Rick had confessed he needed her. If Amanda had been a defenseless woman who didn’t know how to protect herself, Amanda knew he would’ve taught her how to fight, protect herself like he had done with Carol and others. Amanda had told him she couldn’t help it if he had problems with her job, but their blown up had truly born out from something else, their inability to be open with each other and talk, not because of that.

Amanda could see better it now, even though she didn’t know what she was supposed to do with it. The desire to talk with Denise rose in her strongly again but shaking her head mentally with frustration, Amanda tracked her mind back to Jessie. This wasn’t about her, about her issues. This was about Jessie!

She twisted toward the blond woman. “You’re already involved, Jessie. We’re all involved,” she remarked calmly before and repeated what she’d said today in the meeting. “Refusing facts never get anyone anywhere.”

“I understand, but no. Pete—”

“Should be grateful his wife will know how to protect herself and her son—” Carol cut in. “Imagine you lost him. What are you going to do?”

Jessie gave them such a scared look, Amanda felt pity for the woman. “My husband… He was a bad man…a very, very bad man. But when I lost him, it was still hard. Being alone with my daughter.”

“You have a daughter?” Jessie asked, her voice a little confused.

“I had.”

A brief silence followed after that, Jessie understanding what the past tense meant. “I’m sorry—” she mumbled.

Carol nodded briefly, almost dismissive, but took a step forward toward Jessie beside the bushes. Amanda realized they had wedged an opening, and Carol was going to make her first move. “My late husband…” she said lowly, her voice bitter now. “If he saw me now, he would’ve never believed it, me learning how to shoot, fight, trying to make this world.” Carol paused. “I guess he wouldn’t have liked it, either. He was a douchebag, really. Gave me black eyes more than I can remember.”

Jessie’s head snapped at her after the last declaration. “Pete isn’t like that. He’s got problems, and yes, he loses sometimes, but he cares about us. He loves us. Wants to protect us.”

Amanda noticed she didn’t decline physical domestic abuse outwardly, even though she didn’t admit it, either. Amanda wanted to heave out as Carol gave Jessie a sympathetic look. “That’s what Ed used to tell me after each time he hit me.”

The last remark paused the blond woman more, as she looked around in the groove. She passed a hand over the bush they were still standing beside then shook her head. “Deanna asked him to talk this morning—” she said, her eyes still on the shrubbery. “She will keep him in line.”

They all shared a glance as Jessie stood still, not looking at them. The remark was speculative, but Amanda wouldn’t have been surprised what had happened last night in Anderson’s residence wasn’t the first time. Deanna was an ethical woman, especially in her convictions and principles, exiling those men who had taken advantage of women sexually, but Deanna had been also a politician for years.

And, Pete Anderson was a surgeon.

One of her top FP-Cs. She remembered Dawn and her leeway with Dr. Edwards. Anyone would learn how to kill a rotter, how to shoot, anyone would tend a wound, but none of them could make a full open surgery, not even Joan. She tried to trust Deanna’s idealism and her good conscience, but the road to hell was also paved with good intentions.

Amanda walked closer to Jessie, deciding to step in, she was the backup. Carol had done her job, opened up the talk, it was her turn now. She turned to her cop persona, trying to look and sound as reliable and decisive as she could manage, and started talking with a cool voice.

“Jessie, it’s okay. You can tell us. I’m a cop. It’s my job.” She paused for a beat before she asked directly, not beating the bush anymore. “Does he hurt you in any way?”

Turning toward her, the woman stared at her. “You don’t have to be afraid,” Amanda continued with the same cool determined voice. “But we need you to be open and honest with us. Does he hurt you in any way?” Amanda repeated, pressing further.

“Is this why you wanted me to come with you?” Jessie asked instead, choosing to go with the counterattack as she gestured with her head. “You set me up?”

Amanda had been expecting the deflection tactic. Something was also telling her that the blond woman had done this before. That tingling was in her now again, pulsing at the edge of her awareness.

She took a step closer to the woman. “Jessie—” Amanda tried another time, this time adding an emphatic tone in her decisive tone, much like Rick always did whenever he wanted you to heed his words, gentle but firm. “We want to help you. You can trust us.”

Whatever her reasons were, even though she was still being a selfish bitch, Amanda still wanted to help. When Joan stepped beside her, Amanda knew she wasn’t the only one, either.

But Jessie still shook her head. Carol had taken a step back now, as if she had given her okay to Amanda to lead the talk from now on, only watching them silently with intent. “You have each other. I don’t have anyone but him,” Jessie stated in a low voice, an admission that made Amanda feel compassion for her more. She wondered if the woman had her family before the outbreak, a family that would’ve supported her. Something was also telling her the answer was no.

“I can’t do without him.” Amanda this time heard stark desperation in her voice more than love, realizing her estimation was probably correct, too. So Amanda wasn’t surprised when the woman continued, “Even before I couldn’t. I—I tried.” She shook her head. “I need him.”

Amanda was emphatic, feeling compassion, perhaps even…unprofessionally, but Joan wasn’t. There was a brazen heat emitting out of her body language when she took a step closer to Jessie. “You need him or do you want to be with him?” Joan challenged, her dark-lit eyes fixing the woman a heated stern look.

“You don’t know how it is—”

“Yes, we do—” Joan objected. “We do know guys like him. As long as he thinks you need him because he provides for you,” she continued, “He’s never gonna show you respect, always will keep you under his thumb.”

It was the truth, and she suspected no one else would’ve known it better than Joan now. It was how it’d started with Gorman before it escalated, and Amanda suspected it was how things were between Jessie and her husband; another sonofabitch believing he owned the woman he was together with simply because he provided for her.

That was also another thing that they’d been trying to avoid, stopping a domestic mess before it escalated. In relationships, the lines got so blurry when your emotions confused everything.

Perhaps it was the reason the idea of letting Rick take care of her bugged her that much, made her feel vulnerable. Amanda had never had anyone to take care of her, always had to do it herself since she knew herself. Even now she didn’t need Rick to stay alive, but still felt something missing without him. Missed being with him, being in his arms, the peace and tranquility lying on his chest brought to her, feeling his warmness beside her. How stark and cold the room and her bed felt alone without him.

“You need to fight, Jessie,” Joan insisted, not bulging as Amanda turned to the older woman, focusing on the women in front of her once more. Her eyebrows pinched a little as she realized Joan was getting involved emotionally in this, too. “If you won’t fight back, he won’t stop.”

The blond woman didn’t object to what exactly her husband wouldn’t stop doing but only jerked her head in answer. “I can’t do this alone,” she repeated. “I don’t want to.”

“You won’t be alone—” Amanda replied quickly, the words coming to her easily. “I swear we’ll help you. We can separate you from him for a while—” She paused for a second, mulling over the idea. “Perhaps you just need to think over it.”

They had never talked about what exactly they would do in case that Jessie admitted that her husband was abusing her. A divorce sounded like the best idea. They could relocate the doctor to another house, separating them like a divorce, no further drama. Pete Anderson wouldn’t take it well initially, Amanda suspected, but as long as Jessie was on board, they could deal with the doctor. “You can even divorce him if you want.”

Jessie gave her a look with a bitter laugh. “I already divorced him once.”

“Things are different now—” Amanda pointed out.

“Yeah. They're worse.”

“You can’t fight with him in that way,” Joan cut in with the same fierceness as Carol still watched them silently. “He’s only gonna get worse. He’s already getting worse.”

“She’s right—” Amanda tried another time. “Let us help you.”

“I am sorry—” the woman replied firmly. “There’s nothing to help.”

Amanda let out a subdued sigh, watching the woman's back as she walked away from them after that. “What are we going to do?” Joan asked, turning to them.

“She’ll come around—” Carol replied, sounding almost…certain.

Both Joan and Amanda looked at her. “How do you know?” Joan questioned and made a gesture with her head. “She just declined our help.”

“But she listened to us.”

Amanda suspected Carol had a point, like most of the time. In a way, they had made a breach, tried a locked door. The rest they were going to see. They still looked for the nests after her, they had come for it after all, and Amanda would really like Judith, Mika, and Cinnamon to have fresh eggs. If only they could find cattle so they would feed the kids with real milk, too.

They returned to their houses after finding the nests in the dark, collecting eggs quickly, leaving a couple of them inside. Amanda took one for Cinnamon but left the rest of them to Carol for Judith and Mika, bidding them goodnight at the sidewalk before they separated their ways once more.

Her eyes lingered on the other house for a second longer even after Carol and Joan vanished through the screen door. There was a part of her that wished to be there even now, just sitting in the living room and resting, but she dutifully padded over to her porch. She’d tried to take a watch earlier, but Aiden had restricted her from any watch for tonight. Amanda didn’t know if it was his own doing or Rick’s…meddling and she didn’t ask either.

Inside the house, Amanda went directly to the kitchen, preparing the egg for her Cinnamon. After she put the egg on the stove, she headed to the living room to find her kitten. She was with Rosita who had just returned from her watch and lounging on the couch under a blanket with Cinnamon.

Amanda picked the kitty up from her as Rosita made a face. “She’s quite a furball—” she joked lightly. “We should find more kittens or Deanna is gonna need to turn on the heating systems unless she doesn’t want us to turn to popsicles.”

Amanda smiled at the woman, feeling the cold in the house. Deanna had said they were going to turn on the heating systems in December, so Amanda supposed it was soon enough. She curled her kitten around her elbow. “We’ll start having December soon—” she said. They still kept a calendar for seasons, even though keeping the track of time had been a chore. But she knew Deanna still did it. “So Deanna might do it.”

Rosita nodded appreciated. “Can you talk to her?” she asked, almost absently, as Amanda paused for a second, looking down at her. “It’s really getting cold.”

It was the truth, it was getting cold, something Amanda felt so bleakly in her room alone, too, but that wasn’t what had made her pause momentarily, but the easy, relaxed way Rosita had asked her to talk to Deanna like they usually asked Rick.

Beth’s words echoed in the back of her mind as the Latina woman curled under the blankets further, sliding over the couch. “The leftovers from dinner are in the fridge—”

Amanda nodded, leaving her to her repose, going back to the kitchen. Eugene was in the alcove, reading a book about mechanics, but Abraham was no sight. She hoped the man wasn’t drinking again. Rick reassured her that the sergeant was going to help her, and Amanda was not looking forward to having a cranky hangover as her partner.

Putting down Cinnamon on the floor, Amanda prepared the egg, mashing yolk and white and powdered milk together. Gathering the baby tabby up in her arms, Amanda fed her with her fingers, her small mouth licking the smashed egg from her forefinger.

Amanda smiled down at the kitten, feeling a bit better, brushing the tips of her other fingers over her hair as she feasted on egg and milk mash. Her good humor was short-lived, though, as she started climbing the staircase toward the attic, remembering the room was still a mess.

Inside, with a sigh, Amanda put her baby kitty on her blanket and pillow nest beside the bed foot and began cleaning up the room.

She opened the tall windows first to circulate fresh air inside, consequently made the room even colder. Kneeling beside the nest, she made sure to wrap the blankets over Cinnamon further to keep her warm and put on an old-faded sweatshirt over her white shirt not to get cold herself, too.

She gathered the pillows from the ground the next, then collected the puzzle pieces back inside its package and pulled off the dirty sheets all the while blocking snapshots that her mind tried to make her remember. She did well, she supposed, at least until she spotted Rick’s blue boxers and basic white shirt twisted through the sheets under her pillow.

She let out a big sigh and gathered them up before she sat down, resting her back against the headboard. Looking at the clothes over her lap, she felt the chill in the starkly decorated room worse as Jessie Anderson told inside her there was nothing to help.

I don’t need help, her voice exclaimed then, and Rick answered.

Amanda, why don’t you let me take care of you? Is it really that hard to trust me?

Rick’s compassionate question swirled in her mind with Jessie’s stubborn remarks, and Amanda wondered if she acted just like the former housewife, refusing the hand that was offered out to her in best intentions.

When she slipped over the new sheets under the covers, curled up with Cinnamon in the cold room, the question stayed with her the whole night.

Notes:

Yay, I finally managed to come to this point...Amanda finally waking up to the truth that she's been behaving like Jessie, too, refusing help... Domestic abuse is always a conflicted matter, and I've tried to handle it with thought and tact. The fact is that you really can't save anyone unless they want to be saved. On the other hand, sometimes you also need help and there's nothing wrong with that too...of course, unless you've got problems and trust issues like Amanda, and accepting help makes you feel vulnerable, comprised. For domestic abuse, especially emotional domestic abuse, it's really hard to make women accept it and take necessary steps to change that. A lot of women actually prefer to suffer it silently because they're afraid of the public opinion, not wanting to be a victim, or because they don't have economical independence or sometimes even they don't want to lose their comforts... It's sad but happens all the time, I'm afraid.

'Let us help you' was actually a line from the canon, too. Amanda said it in Coda to Rick and Daryl to convince them, trying to make them believe in her. Like I said before many times, even though Amanda is basically an original character now, I truly based her on her little interaction in the episodes she was in. There is also a deleted scene in Blu-ray edition, which lovely DarkTidings was kind enough to send me, and I also saw there, before they found Noah (ie fell into Rick's trap, hehe) Amanda was trying to convince Lamson to take action against Dawn because she was getting worse etc, telling Lamson something like 'We need a change. You're the one who can do that'. But even then she wasn't taking the lead, until to the very end, until she had to.
In the scene, she was really agitated and frustrated. It was very clear that she doesn't like what was happening and was trying to do something about it. She challenged Lamson if he was scared of Dawn or he really liked her, even almost eye-rolled at him with a bitter headshake when Lamson said 'they're saving people'. It was a great scene, and just Amanda I'd pictured in my mind even before seeing it. Hehe, you can imagine my happiness after seeing her like that too.

So...I'm also back in town and will start writing again. I swear! So...be seeing you. In the meantime, like always, don't forget to tell me what you think and keep me company. You know how much I like it. Axxo :D
(Edit: To those who saw me writing 'Blue Ray' instead of 'Blu-ray', oh my god, I swear I have no idea how it's happened. Feel soo embrassed now. Hehe.)

Chapter 34: 'Catching walkers'

Summary:

While trying to find still animated walkers to show to the kids in the town, Rick comes up with a way to deal with two specific townspeople that have been giving him problems.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Returning from the midnight shift from the bell tower, Rick passed the rest of the night trying to calm down Judith. Carl had left her to him after Rick returned, already yawning as he padded to his room.

Rick looked at his baby daughter, swaying her against his chest under the blanket he used to cover her against the cold as he paced in the room. Carol stayed in her room even if she heard her, knowing Judy’s temper was because of cutting teeth. Her fever wasn’t bad, Rick took it every hour. Joan had prepared a tea from the herbs she’d gathered from the woods. It would help them with the fever.

Judy wasn't a gassy baby, even though she stayed up some nights, but cutting teeth were entirely different. More than a decade passed, Rick had forgotten how it had been with Carl. Now, he was remembering again.

He passed the teething toy ring to her again as Judy started using her small fist rubbing her knuckles over her gums. “Sweetheart, do you wanna sleep?” Rick asked, passing his hand over her moistened baby hair too. “We try again?”

There was no way Judy would sleep tonight in her crib, and Rick was so tired to fight that battle now. He was tried. It was a long day. The meeting had almost taken his energy, dealing with the townspeople, and the rest of it had drained away up in the lookout nest in the chilly heights. All he had wanted in the bell tower was to return to the house and take a hot shower before he dove under the covers, but Rick was even okay with just going to the bed now.

Tomorrow was going to be another long day. And despite his recklessness, Rick wanted to rest now. He wondered briefly how Amanda and the other’s talk with Jessie Anderson had gone, but when Rick had returned, Carol and Joan had already slept too.

Rick pulled back up to his feet and started pacing in the room again when Judith began crying louder as Rick sat down on the bed. He heaved out deeply, swaying the baby girl in his arms.

When Amanda had told him again that they were going try to talk with the woman, Rick had conceded this time, not wanting to start another fight. Amanda’s eyes were lit with that determined glint that meant she was ready to start a fight if she needed to, and Rick was tired. Too damn tired. Especially for starting another quarrel with her over Anderson’s family. His reservation with the surgeon still stood, but Rick didn’t want to risk it that way with Amanda. If he could, he would’ve ignored the man until they dealt with these Wolves and with the town, but Amanda couldn’t wait. So Rick had just backed down.

He hoped it wasn’t a mistake, he wasn’t giving ground to the asshole, but they were going to see. As long as the man kept it civil, Rick was going to roll with it. Rick wished if only he could do it with a little bit of sleep.

“Judy—” Rick sighed out tiredly when he tried to lean back against the headboard again and met with the same treatment. “We gotta sleep a bit.”

Judy still had other ideas. Losing the battle, Rick continued pacing the room, a stark emptiness inside, an absence. Rick knew what it was, of course, and he tried to shove it off, but it was too late. The memories assaulted him, the scarce times he had spent the night with Amanda in this very room to calm down Judith, how good it felt, how natural it felt, them doing it. Sharing the same bed as she was curled up between his arms tightly. The yearning in him was so strong, Rick heaved out another deep sigh, and felt that thing in him again when he was with Beatrice. While he circled the room tiredly, he wondered if he was that starved off affection and compassion, enough to go out on a date with a woman he didn’t feel anything.

Apparently, he was.

The notion bothered him, making him feel comprised. Weak. He had to be strong. He couldn’t afford to have that kind of emotional weakness. If he couldn’t win Amanda back, he had to make his peace with it and move on. What was worse, that fact bothered him even more. He wanted her back. He needed her back. If Rick being with another woman had equally bothered her like Carol had said, was enough to drive her mad, drunken and mad, so why the hell Rick was alone now?

The last thought made him silently growl out, his jaw setting, and sensing the sudden shift in his mood, Judith became more cross and began crying even louder.

Rick closed his eyes, swallowing down another growl, but instead swayed the baby against his chest. The door of the master bedroom opened a second later, and his heart leaping in his throat, Rick spun, his heartbeat hastening, snapshots of the last time it had happened jumping at him, but instead of Amanda, he saw Carol in the doorway.

The older woman silently slipped into the room, giving Rick a sympathetic look. She held out her arms to him. “Here, give her to me, and rest.”

Rick shook his head. “No. It’s fine—” he declined as politely as he could manage at the moment. “You’ve been taking care of her for two nights.”

The last night Carol had slept with Judy after she left them in the den, Rick staying with Amanda and Glenn preparing the action plan, and the night before he’d been with Amanda in the attic.

But Carol shook her head, walking to him. “Do you count?” She took Judy, slowly muttering to her ear.

Rick nodded, too tired to fight with her too, and muttered a thank you appreciating the gesture. “Did you talk with Jessie Anderson?” he asked as Carol covered Judy with the blanket again.

“Yeah. We did. She basically told us to mind our own business,” she answered with a sigh and gave Rick a look. “Amanda and Joan—” the older woman stated. “They both are getting too much involved with this.”

“Yeah—” Rick repeated back with a nod. “Amanda told me she didn’t want to look the other way again. She feels guilty for what she let happen at Grady.”

Carol nodded. “Joan is the same. She got very angry with Jessie when the woman refused to fight,” she remarked, frowning, holding up Judy as her cries softened a bit. “They started taking this personal.”

Rick wasn’t surprised by that, either. He passed a hand over his unkempt hair. “I try to keep her away, but she doesn’t listen to me.”

Carol regarded him even more intently, passing Judy onto her other shoulder. “Perhaps she might if you tell her what’s really happening.”

Understanding where the talk was going, Rick shook his head. “No.”

“Rick—”

“I can’t do it, Carol, not right now,” Rick refused again. Amanda had never seen Shane, wasn’t with them when he lost it. She would understand why Rick had to do it, but children were always a risky topic with Amanda. Although she had claimed she understood him about Lizzie, the poor girl’s name still came up in every heated fight they had. Amanda understood but didn’t accept; her words. The last thing they needed now was another conflict.

“Okay—” Carol accepted again with another small nod. “I take her. You rest now.”

“Thank ya.”

Alone in the room, Rick didn’t even bother to change his clothes. He just tucked off his boots, unbuckled his duty belt, and dove under the cover with his clothes still on. He woke up again before the dawn when the sky was still purple and grey outside.

He quickly got up, went to the bathroom, having his morning routine, and left the master bedroom. He was going to check the sewers in the morning with Aaron, Reg, and Tobin, so he wanted to make his round before they came. He prepared a black coffee for himself to boost up his energy, one of the many perks of Alexandria. He didn’t feel that bad, he surmised he’d slept four hours, not bad for his usual standards, but there was still that pesky throbbing in his temples.

Propping a hip against the porch’s railing in the cold morning, he lifted the plush collar of his jacket with one hand as with the other he held the hot mug. He surveyed the town, his plans going rapidly in his mind as he sipped the coffee, his eyes darting up toward the other house a couple of times.

Their door opened a few minutes later too, and clad in sports attire and sneakers, Amanda showed up on the porch. Rick’s heartbeat peaked as he told himself this wasn’t why he’d been dawdling around the porch. No. He wasn’t waiting for her to show up for her morning workout routine, even though he knew it was her jogging day.

Feeling his gaze, Amanda twisted toward him and they exchanged brief nods for greeting on the separate porches. She began going out, but when the driveway finished, instead of heading to the track, she stepped on their driveway and walked toward him slowly.

“Hey—” she called, stopping at the lowest step of the porch, looking up at him.

Rick bowed his head over the rim of the glass and countered it with another hey. “Jogging?” he asked before taking a sip from coffee.

She nodded. “Yeah. Wanted to do it before my class starts.”

“Yeah.”

She regarded him with an intent look, her eyes checking his appearance, and then a slight furrow appeared between her brows as she frowned. “You okay?” she asked, eyeing the coffee again.

“Yeah—” Rick replied with a half nod, too. “Judy had another bad night. Carol took her later.”

Her face became clouded. “Fever?” she questioned lowly.

Rick shook her head. “No. But she still has it bad because of teeth.”

“Poor thing—” she breathed out. “Did you give her the mix Joan prepared?”

“Hmm mm. I think it was what dropped her fever.”

“Good.” She paused. “You should give her a bath before the bed each night. That would soothe her more.” She paused again, nibbling her bottom lip in thoughts, and Rick darted his eyes quickly away from her, feeling himself hardening in his jeans.

“We should prepare an ointment for her,” she remarked as Rick tried to cool himself down. “We did it once in one of my foster homes. The lady was in spiritual things, burning incense sticks, spraying the air with scents. She used to have those massages whenever she had a temper. We can try it, too.”

Rick almost suggested they should try it for her too to reduce her anxiety, but wisely kept it to himself, but nevertheless, the image had already driven him to a full erection. He shifted himself from one foot to another, trying to angle his groin over the railings to hide the bulging in front of his jeans as he fantasied massaging her, Amanda sprawled out in front of him under his hands. Rick dispensed the thought away, forcing himself to calm down as his brain quickly cooked up an image of her coming on his fingers as Rick massaged her right there.

Bowing his head, he placed the mug on the railings, regaining his self-control as he breathed out silently.

Under his bowed head, Rick could sense her gaze on him, but she didn’t make any further comment. Rick lifted his head a few seconds later. “How did it go with Jessie Anderson?” he asked.

Rick already knew the outcome from Carol, but he needed to calm down himself. Business. He should focus on business, not sensual massages or how she would come between his arms.

Amanda’s expression shifted at the mention of it before she gave him a terse shrug. “I don’t know. She didn’t decline she’s having problems with him but didn’t admit anything, either. I told her we could help her to get a divorce.”

The massages and orgasms forgotten, Rick stared at her. “A divorce?” he repeated.

“Yeah. I know. Kinda silly, but didn’t know what we could call it,” she replied. “I told her we can send him out of the house, to separate them. Hence, a split up.” She paused again, pursing her lips. “I guess we can even make them say ‘divorce’ thrice. Used to work for some people even before the outbreak.”

Rick gave her a look. “I suspect the good doctor might disagree.”

“Does he have a choice if she insists?” she shot back. “If Jessie concedes, we move him out—” she stated firmly, her eyes becoming stern. “Willingly or by force.”

This time Rick nodded. “If she does.”

Amanda shook her head, her look turning thoughtful. “I don’t understand—” she mused out, wandering her eyes uphill toward their house. “She knows he’s a douchebag, yet she still tries to salvage their marriage instead of trying to build her own life.”

Rick’s jaw squared, as he set down the mug again on the railings, his arousal completely gone. “I guess some people choose to work out their differences instead of just severing their connection at the first sight of trouble.”

Her head snapped back at him, her jaw setting up too. “I guess some people choose to cling on something that wouldn’t work in the end instead of just letting it go.”

They glared at each other on the steps silently after their both equally biting remarks. Rick knew they weren’t talking about Andersons’ marriage now, but he wasn’t sure her remark was about them or his marriage with Lori.

Because despite his words, Rick also knew, what she’d said was also true, that Lori and he had been trying to salvage an already dead marriage even before the outbreak. When Rick had come back from death, he’d thought perhaps that was their second chance, but he was wrong. What he had with Amanda was different. They hadn’t even tried yet. Not really. Not properly. Aside from that drunken, jealousy, and bitterness-filled bouts two days ago, they hadn’t even had sex in a damn bed!

And that drunken quickie had only happened in the first place just because Rick went to another woman’s house for dinner.

Rick opened his mouth to retort, just how even the thought of losing him to another woman had driven her over the edge, but seeing her, he shut it close quickly.

The way Amanda looked now resembled much more like an angry cat that didn’t get what she wanted, and instead of a dry retort that would get her even more cross with him, Rick chose to finish the bickering. “I guess some people can be very…optimistic.”

Her stance relaxing, Amanda regarded him. “It’s getting too cold inside the houses,” she remarked a few seconds later coolly. “Deanna needs to turn on the heating systems before the kids and Cinnamon catch a cold,” she continued before she asked with the same coolness, accepting his olive branch. “Can you talk to her?”

Rick nodded. “Sure.”

“Thanks—” she said almost politely, stepping down from the step before she walked away.

 Daryl joined him a few seconds later while Rick watched her as she started running around the track. Rick suspected his friend had been already at the back deck and kept his distance to give them privacy.

Rick shot a look at his friend as he stopped in front of the railings beside him. “I talked with Carol last night—” Rick said, giving a side look at Daryl. “She says Joan is getting too much involved with Jessie Anderson, too.”

Daryl gave a lopsided nod, easily admitting. “Yeah.”

“They told her if she wants to divorce him, they could back her up.”

This time Daryl shrugged. “Serves him right. The guy is a douchebag.”

“Yeah—” Rick countered. “Guns in the house. You still don’t carry one, right?” Daryl shook his head. “We gotta talk about this,” Rick told his friend then after a brief pause. “Perhaps it’s time you also start carrying.”

The ball had started carrying, so to speak, they had better be prepared, but Daryl gave him a heavy look. “I thought only you were going to have one. Possibly deniability and shit like that—” the hunter commented lowly.

“Yeah, well—” Rick replied with a shrug. “Better be prepared.”

Rick left for his morning patrol then, started circling the wall as Amanda ran around the track. When he returned, Aaron, Reg, and Glenn were waiting for him on the porch. Daryl was with them, too, sat on the steps, checking his bolts.

Rick looked at them. “We ready?” he asked.

Aaron nodded, moving toward the small garden table on the porch and lay down a sketch of the town. It was hand-prepared, one of the plans Reg had prepared. Aaron tipped his finger in front of the northern area toward the west. “This is the main exit point of the whole system,” the recruited remarked.

His eyes squinting, Rick gazed at the spot Aaron had marked. The northern west side was directly opening toward the woods. It was understandable too as Potomac’s main arms circled the woods and hillside, even pooling inside Alexandria. Digging a drainage canal was easier along a riverbed than trying to make it pass underneath the infrastructure of urban sections.

What better was that the sewers had many manholes on the grounds, so all the grids would have easy access to the system in times of need. “All right, let’s go.”

They left the house and found the nearest manhole access to the old sewer system. They lifted off the heavy lid altogether and gazed below. Rick heard the Alexandrians sigh.

He shot up a look at them. “It wouldn’t be that bad. It wasn’t even used for years—” he said, pulling out his light from his back pocket. He turned it on. “Okay. I and Glenn go first—” he told Aaron and Reg. “You follow us after we call you with Daryl.”

Rick had thought to leave the old professor above the surface, but after a second, he’d forsaken the idea. The Alexandrians had to wake up, and seeing Reg, an almost seventy-year-old man doing this would make them understand how serious Rick was. Deanna hadn’t been happy, but she’d seen Rick’s point, especially after Reg had backed him up, saying they needed him below. The man possibly would read the system better than any of them.

Rick didn’t think they would meet with any real threat as the sewers weren’t in use in Alexandria, and walkers somehow finding themselves inside the sewers deep long was very unlikely, but Rick had seen worse surprises.

His Colt Python was at his hip again, just like the hidden spare gun under his shirt and jacket, but Rick didn’t plan to fire any gun today. The bullets would ricochet in the dark tunnel, and they wouldn’t want that. His machete would be more than enough if they somehow met a lone walker.

Holding his breath, Rick started descending in the manhole, using the metal access ladder fixed on the wall, lighting his way with his other hand before he jumped at the bottom of the tunnel. In the dark, the stale air and smells were even worse, and despite the unuse, there was still some…liquid wetting the ground under his boots. Rick tried not to think what it was, just swept the light across the tunnel, spinning around himself.

A few seconds later, Daryl jumped down beside him in the same fashion and lighted his way. “Seems okay—” the hunter commented roughly.

Rick gave him a half nod. “Yeah.”

He whistled lowly, craning his neck up and, Aaron started coming down too. Ten minutes later, they were all below the surface. Aaron held up the map again and Reg pointed a spot toward the east side, closer to the main entrance of Alexandria where their houses were stationed.

“We follow this pathway—” the old man advised, trailing his finger northwest, “The main exit is there.”

Rick nodded. “A’right. We take the point—” he said, gesturing at Daryl. “Glenn, you have our six.” Glenn nodded quickly, too. “Aaron, you walk with Reg in between.”

Aaron made the same gesture as well as they fell in the ranks, Daryl raising the crossbow on his shoulder at ready as Rick lightened his path beside him.

The tunnels were the same, just like they had expected, the frail liquid trailing under their feet, dark and smelly, but tolerable. And, there was no walker. A couple of times small rodents, mice sizes trotted quickly away from under their boots, and even Daryl did not attempt to hit them. Rodent eating something they had had to do under the worst conditions, afraid of getting viruses, or perhaps Alexandria had started even spoiling them.

At the moment, Rick didn’t mind it. They walked for half of an hour, their pace slow and alert in wariness, Reg leading them behind them, reading the map until they found the main entrance.

Walking closer to the iron bars that led outside in the woods, Rick flashed his light over the hole, then stepped back hurriedly when two walkers hit themselves against the bars toward the light.

Well. They had too much luck until then. But Rick still counted themselves lucky, two walkers were nothing, easy to put down through the bars, then drawn to light and clamor they made, a few of them threw themselves at the bars, and soon enough at the other side of the exit doorway, a small herd started snarling and growling at them, rotted hands madly clawing through the iron bars to reach them.

Rick sighed. “Well, it wouldn’t be so easy, huh?” he asked, turning back to the rest of his companions.

The old professor’s eyes were fixated on the walkers in the dimly lit darkness, the corpses blinking in and out of darkness, their snarls even more ominous as they echoed in the metal and cement tunnel.

“W-we can find other exits—” the old man stammered, bowing his head to study the map in the flashlight.

“No—” Rick replied stiffly, turning back to the exit, trying to make a count. He couldn’t be sure in the flashlight, but he supposed more than a dozen. Still…manageable. “We need this exit,” he continued calmly. “It’s the biggest one and closest to the woods.”

“But what we’re going to do with them?” Aaron asked, pointing at the walkers on the other side of the bars. “We kill them?”

There was disbelief under his tone, but Rick shook his head, still gazing at the walkers. “Nah. We don’t kill them.”

After his declaration, Rick could sense their gazes on him even in the dark. He twisted aside and gave them a look. “We catch ‘em.” He paused. “We wanted to bring in walkers to show you, here they are…”

# # #

“Let me check if I understood right. You want us to go and catch the geeks down there, and bring them up to show children—” Aiden repeated slowly Deanna’s living room after Rick was done.

“No, not only children—” Rick replied. “We can also use them to cut up after we finish with the kids.”

“This is insane.”

“It’s easier than go outside and look for walkers—” Rick answered coolly, not bothered with the exclamation. “Logistics for that would be harder too. The only thing we have to do is to secure them, then take them out at the other side, and come back from the main entrance.”

How can we even secure them?” the younger Monroe brothers asked this time.

After they left the sewers, Rick had gathered a…small council for a quick session in Deanna’s house to break the news and his plan. There were Monroe clan, Reg’s right-hand man, Tobin, Heath, and from his people, Amanda and Abraham had joined.

Amanda looked thoughtful, regarding him closely, but stayed silent during the whole exchange. “We cut two iron bars with an iron cutter to create an opening—” Rick answered the question calmly, laying out his plan further. “It’d be only big enough for one corpse. We make poles with a snare mechanism like animal handling poles and guide them out.”

The Alexandrians stared at him blankly. Rick swallowed a sigh down. “We can do this—” he said, keeping his voice still calm, but firm. “I did it before.”

“For cryin’ out loud!” Spencer cried out. “Why did you even do that?”

“It’s a long story—” he said dismissively with a shrug as he caught Amanda’s eyebrow rose too. Rick turned to Deanna. “It’s safer this way. We can carve out their teeth and cut off their arms too with Carl’s katana.” He paused. “A friend of ours used to do this.”

Deanna sighed out, shaking her head. “Do I even want to know?”

“Like I said, walkers camouflage you. She did it then chained two walkers and roamed in the woods with them. Walkers passed her by unnoticed.”

The old woman gave him a look. “I hope you won’t ask us to keep them as pets.”

“No—” Rick answered in seriousness. “We’re gonna use them for practice. Amanda can show her trainees how to stab them for real—” He pointed at her with his head. “Then we cut them up to show you how.”

Deanna stayed silent for a little while, then asked, “How many people do you need?”

“We don’t need a lot of manpower to secure the walkers one by one,” Rick replied. “The tunnel is wide enough, and we need it clear to fall back quickly if something goes wrong. The four of us would be enough—” Rick pointed his people, also including Amanda.

Because despite his qualms about her going outside without him, endangering herself needlessly, there was no one Rick trusted more to protect his back when it mattered. Her expression shifted, her eyes having another kind of glint, as their gaze caught each other, and Rick understood that she liked it, too.

“Aiden and Health’s teams can wait for us at the other side of the exit in the woods setting up a perimeter—” Rick continued, turning toward them before his look found Deanna again. “But I want to take two of the townspeople, too.”

Deanna returned his open look questionably. “Officer Shepherd’s course is not finished. I thought we agreed that you don’t take anyone out until they’re finished.”

“Well, I’m still not—” Rick pointed out, his face still calmly serious. “They still will be inside.”

“Who?” Deanna questioned.

“Carter Black and Dr. Anderson.”

Deanna stared at her openly, like the rest of the room. “Y-you want to take our only—only surgeon down there to the sewers?” she repeated as if she had heard him wrong.

Rick nodded. “Yes.”

Deanna shook her head firmly, her jaw clenching. “No—” she said. “Out of the question.”

“They need to—”

“Why?” Her husband cut in. “Why do you want Carter and Pete down, Rick?”

“Carter makes a fuss at everything we propose. I want him to come to his senses—" Rick answered calmly, leaving off the part that the man’s objections had started bothering him. “If your people object everything we try to do, we can’t do anything at all—” he went on. “This’s still safer than taking them outside. As for Dr. Anderson—” Rick said before he made a pause. “He’s also got problems. He got drunk last night and created a mess in the town. We need him to sober up, too.”

That wasn’t even a lie. Since they arrived in Alexandria, the man had been drinking his ass off, and he had only become worse. Rick hoped a bit sense of danger would bring him back to his sense much like Carter. Rick was still…heeding the asshole’s words, keeping away from his family. It was going to be Deanna who agreed with it, and it was about the man himself, not of his family.

But the old woman shook her head again. “Carter can come, but Dr. Anderson stays. We can’t risk him like that.”

Rick’s jaw squared after the declaration, not liking not-so-hidden meaning beneath them. He slanted a look first at Amanda then Daryl, seeing both supporting a frown much like the way Rick did. “You understand he behaves like this because he thinks himself too valuable?” Rick almost snapped, his voice having an edge. “He needs to come back to the real world.”

Deanna still looked unconvinced. “You said we’re gonna do it in my way, Deanna—” Rick pushed, crossing an imaginary line between them too, but didn’t stop. “This is my way.”

The old politician’s expression soured further, but Amanda cut in, backing him again like in the meeting. “Rick is right, Deanna. If you let the town’s surgeon down there, everyone will see how serious we are with it.”

Amanda was a good conciliator almost as good as Aaron when the recruiter had found them, keeping the peace between two opposites. If things had been different, they would’ve even resolved the issue with Pete Anderson without any further nonsense, without any further headache.

Deanna gave them a curt nod, accepting it, but not without a warning first. “Even his nose bleeds, I’m gonna get very pissed.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll look after them—” Amanda replied quickly, tossing him a pointed look.

Rick nodded, suppressing a sigh this time. “Yeah. We will.”

Outside the house, Rick questioned the construction team’s head. “Tobin—can we find poles or rods in the maintenance building to make snares?”

The middle-aged man shook his head. “No need. I’d found a couple of fishing rods in my garage when I first came. I’m still keeping them in case that we have a food shortage somehow and need to fish.”

“Is there fish in the pond?” Amanda asked, momentarily halting.

“I don’t know—” Tobin admitted. “Never tried. But there are ducks.”

“Yeah—” she said with a small smile as they walked away from Monroe’s residence. Rick’s eyes checked on the infirmary’s porch but didn’t see the doctor. He was probably inside, drinking his ass off again while Joan worked on the cadaver that they had brought in.

Her eyes trailing toward the infirmary too, Amanda stopped as they walked to Tobin’s house. “You’re not coming?”

She shook her head. “My class starts in fifteen minutes—” she replied. “I want to check on Nicholas first.”

Rick nodded but took a step closer to her. “A’right. But don’t mention anything to Anderson—” he whispered, leaning down on her. “Let Deanna make the talk.”

“Of course, I won’t,” she answered with a sigh. “I don’t even want to talk to him anyway.”

Rick gave a satisfied nod. “Good.”

She rolled her eyes as the others started walking away, but Rick stayed back. Amanda didn’t move, either. “Catching rotters with poles—” she breathed out, her eyes moving up to his as they stood close by, looking at each other. “Did you make it up?”

“No—” Rick said seriously, holding her gaze. “Hershel made me when we were at his farm.”

What?” Amanda cried out, taking a step closer to him. “Why?”

Rick smiled at her, a bit mysteriously, a bit with mischief, suddenly feeling like they were…flirting as he took a step on in her too. “It’s a long story.”

She stared up at him. “Will you tell me sometime?” she asked, her voice almost breathless.

Rick didn’t miss his chance. “I might—” he replied quickly. “But I have a condition.” She raised an eyebrow. Rick got closer to her, gazing at her intently now. “Have dinner with me again.”

Her flirty attitude vanishing as if she came back to herself Amanda bowed her head. “Rick—we—we broke up.”

Rick decided to play the dumb once more. “I thought we were on a break—” She lifted her eyes at him again under her bowed head. “Can’t we still…eat together?” he asked, lightly brushing his fingers through her hair.

They were lingering in front of Deanna’s house on the sidewalk. It was early in the morning, most of the town was asleep, but they were still open in public, and she didn’t flinch away from his touch, only looked back at him silently.

“Don’t you want to know the story?” Rick continued, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger as he kept his voice nonchalant. “It’s a very…exciting one.”

She let out a low giggle but still didn’t pull back from him. “Is it?” she breathed out, her eyes still on him.

“Yeah. Very.”

She gulped, nodding slowly. “’Kay. I—I'll think about it.”

Rick nodded back, letting his hand drop. “I’ll take that for now.” He hesitated for a moment before he leaned in her and gave her cheek a light, quick kiss.

He didn’t wait to see her reaction, he spun on his heel and walked away. He still didn’t believe what had happened, or if he had pushed too much, but she hadn’t declined. She had said she was going to think about it. Rick could take that for now, yeah.

His mood improved, even with the prospect of catching walkers, Rick headed back to Deanna’s house before he went to join the others. He had promised Amanda to talk to the old woman about the heating systems, so he better did it. Amanda liked warm places, and her sleeping in that stark, cold attic was still bothering him.

After having the word from Deanna that she would turn on the systems, Rick moved to Tobin’s house. They prepared the fishing rods, using the fishing line to create snares attached at the top of the rods. It was easily done, so they’d created other poles, too, using thick branches from the apple trees as they decided they might need fishing rods again.

His good mood was still with him, and Rick decided to go back to the house and check on Judy before he went out with Daryl to check the other side of the sewer exit out of the grounds. The exit carried them out not very far away from Alexandria, but Rick didn’t want to risk anything on their way back.

Leaving Tobin’s house with Daryl, he spied on Amanda’s training field, seeing her teaching another five people how to use knives, axes, and machetes. Her quick courses were supposed to be complete for adults tomorrow, but her leaving out with them, they were going to fall behind their schedule.

It was a risk he was willing to take to have her beside him, so Rick didn’t mind. He pushed the screen door to walk inside, and padded toward the living room, Daryl in his heel, then stopped in the doorway, looking at the scene in front of him.

Inside in his house.

Pete Anderson was sitting with Carol, Mika, Beth, and Carl as Carl held Judith across his lap as they sat together. Carol lifted her head at him, catching up his sight as the asshole turned to him. “Hello, Rick—” Carol greeted him with a kind smile. “Did you check the sewer?”

“Yeah—” Rick said, his eyes still fully on the man. “We did.”

“Dr. Anderson heard Judith cutting teeth from Joan—” Carol explained, still keeping her voice kind as Rick continued glared at the asshole. “He came to check on her. Brought ibuprofen. Isn’t it nice?”

Rick’s clenched jaw moved; his glare fixated. “Yeah. It is.”

The man stood up. “I take my leave—” he announced as kindly as Carol, looking back at him. “Call me if her fever increases.”

Rick almost broke his teeth, clenching them tightly. Daryl’s expression was closed off in the same way and he almost hit Anderson’s shoulder as the man walked out. Rick followed him, flexing his fingers at his Colt Python. Anderson caught his gesture as he opened the screen door.

The kind expression vanished off his face, the man gave Rick a stern look which he returned with another glare as they stepped out on the porch.

“You have a sweet daughter, Sheriff—” Anderson said, stopping in front of the railings. “So sweet.”

“Stay away from her.”

“I would have—” he replied. “But your family started to get very acquainted with mine, so I thought I would return the favor.” Rick hissed through his nose. The asshole shook his head, slanting a look at Rick, looking almost disappointed. “I thought we’ve come to an understanding.”

“We did.”

“Did we? Then why your good officer advised my wife to divorce me?” Rick clenched his jaw again, swearing inside. “Yeah, I heard it, Sheriff. Believe me, Jessie doesn’t hide anything from me.”

Rick didn’t know how the asshole had found out, if they had a fight and he forced it out of his wife or his wife just threatened him with it, but either way, it wasn’t good for him. They should’ve stayed away. They should have just stayed away. Rick wasn’t ready to deal with this. He didn’t have time to deal with this.

His fingers inched toward his gun again, but Rick kept himself unmoved. “I’m sure it was a misunderstanding,” he clipped forcefully. “Amanda wouldn’t care about anyone’s romantic life.”

Anderson let out a dry scoff at that. “Yeah. I bet she doesn’t.” Rick couldn’t be sure if the vague words were an insult for Amanda, but there was no mistaking of the man’s derisive tone.

“Keep her leash tight—” he sneered with a glare. “If she ever comes near to my wife again, bothering her with her nonsenses, I will come back, but not to check on your daughter.” He paused for a second. “Your son. Carl, isn’t it? Ron says he really loves his mother. Poor boy. Such a disappointment would be to learn what a slu—”

Rick almost lunged at him, their chests an inch away from each other. “If you complete that, you won’t talk ever again,” he spat.

Still threatening me?” he asked, laughing drily. “Are you even aware that Deanna would kick all of you out if you even lay a finger on me?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he rasped out. His firm remark had the sonofabitch halt, Rick felt his unease. “We found an escape route today. The old sewers. The exit is closed by walkers. We’re going to clean the way. You’re coming with us.”

“Deanna wouldn’t risk me.”

“She already agreed.”

 His jaw squared, too, as he understood Rick wasn’t kidding. He gave Rick a seething look before he turned and left the porch.

His hand moving to the butt of his gun, Rick watched him go.

# # #

The next morning Amanda woke up to a warm room, Cinnamon curled up beside her as she towed the orange kitten at her chest. She felt warmness down to her toes as she realized the heating systems had turned on some time in last night. Rick must have talked to Deanna.

Because Amanda had asked.

A small, lazy smile spread her lips as she stroked her baby tabby drowsily. There was a subdued relaxation inside her too, a lightness that made her feel much better. Amanda wondered if it was because of the warm interiors, clean sheets, and the furball beside her, or because she had sort of…accepted another date with Rick.

She hadn’t understood how it happened, suddenly they were out in front of Deanna’s house, both lingering before they separated their ways to carry on their duties, then she asked about that ‘catching walkers’ thing. She’d heard before Michonne had…enslaved rotters before, but Rick? She had thought he’d spun a tale, but apparently, there was a story behind it. She was curious what it was, so perhaps she could really say ‘yes’ and have dinner with him, just to hear the story. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

They were still…friends, she supposed. They still talked. Did stuff together. Was going to ‘catching walkers’ together. Show them to the kids, cut up one. If they could do those things, they would certainly have dinner together too… Between friends and…co-workers.

Yet, even though she stroked Cinnamon, wasting time lazily in the warm bed, Denise’s words echoed in her. What do you think would happen if you risk it? Fortune favors the brave.

Amanda had never been brave, but perhaps she could make another exception again? For Rick? I guess some people choose to work out their differences instead of just severing their connection at the first sight of trouble.

She sighed, looking down at the kitty. “I told you not to fall in love, Chinny, right?” she asked, her fingers caressing her fur, “It’s really very messy.”

Cinnamon just purred beside her, relaxing more against touch, her gently vibrating body sending a tingling sensation through her fingertips. Her lips curled up again as Amanda looked at the kitty, then she sighed again before she started leaving the bed.

She had to get prepared. First, the armory to get their guns, then they had to go and ‘catch walkers’. The joy of their day.

Quickly, she changed to her combat pants and shirt, leaving Cinnamon in the kitchen, preparing her breakfast before she left the house. The whole house was warmer, so Amanda felt better not to leave the baby in the cold. Outside, her eyes slanting a look, she wondered if she could spare time to check on Judy and Mika, too, but a bit passed dawn, it was still too early for them to wake up. Abraham followed her out, and Amanda saw Rosita following him out.

“Rosita wants to come too—” Amanda nodded as they padded toward to collect the others. Daryl swaggered from the garage first, a minute later Glenn stepped out on the porch, followed by Rick, too.

Amanda was already half smiling, waiting to see him again, flirting again a bit like yesterday. There was that light buzz inside her too, not like fluttering butterflies that turned her stomach upside down, but a gentle tug. Amanda missed that feeling, missed feeling excited. She’d been feeling so awfully anxious for a long time, she forgot how that felt.

Her eyes searched for Rick as he started descending the porch, the katana blade slinging over his right shoulder, but that wasn’t what had Amanda froze in her steps.

His face, god. His face looked so stern, his jaw seemed like chiseled again curtly out of marble under his stubble, his eyes having that frosted glass look. His whole body was having that tense rigidity, too, his spine straightened as he marched toward them with powerful strides. Around his hips, his duty belt was circled, and his Colt Python was already there.

Amanda knew he’d taken it back yesterday when they went to check the sewers, and apparently, he hadn't returned it.

Amanda stared at him, wondering what the hell had happened again because this Rick wasn’t the man who had flirtingly tried to convince her to another date. Not even close. He stopped in front of them, checking them out.

“Did you get your guns?” he asked in a curt voice, not even bothering with morning pleasantries.

“No. Not yet—”

He nodded. “Let’s go to the armory.”

Amanda shared a glance with Glenn who gave her a small shrug. She fell beside him as they headed to the armory. “Hey, what happened, Rick?”

He shook his head briefly, his eyes staring ahead, a plain dismissive gesture. “Nothing.”

Amanda frowned, tossing him a glare. He was giving her cold shoulder, and she didn’t have any slightest idea why this time. They were flirting just yesterday! He kissed her cheek just in front of Deanna’s house!

Her jaw setting, she quickened her step, accidentally bumping his shoulder while she passed him by.

Asshole.

Getting the firearms, they moved to Deanna’s residence to gather the others too. Rick and Daryl had made a recon outside the woods yesterday the check out the exit’s whereabouts, and Amanda wanted to ask about that, she couldn’t have found time last night. She supposed she could ask Daryl too, but if they needed to know something, Rick would have told her before they entered into the sewers, so she didn’t do that, either.

Ugh. Her day had started so nice, but perhaps it was just a…glitch, and now things turned to their standard usual shit. Going to the sewers suddenly seemed to her so appropriate. She only hoped it would be better than the last time, recalling the food bank and its flooded sewers.

Ugh.

At least these sewers hadn’t been used for a long time, so a girl still could hope, right?

Amanda swallowed a sigh as she padded beside Glenn, and when she saw the tall bald figure and Pete Anderson waiting in front of Monroe’s residence, her day turned even worse. The men’s expressions were souring milk even worse than Rick’s as Amanda supposed they didn’t like they were summoned to do this with them.

Suddenly Amanda wished she hadn’t backed up Rick, not because he was behaving like an asshole again, but she wasn’t in the mood to babysit anyone right now. Pete Anderson still hadn’t taken her class yet and the other man had come yesterday after they included him for today’s excursions, Amanda still considered them as their trainees.

Amanda had left the surgeon to the last group simply because the man possibly had training because of his background, already knowing how to shoot and boxing, so she only had included Reg and Tobin’s project manager in the last class, skipping the man.

With Aiden, there was only Jeff, Richards was still staying with Nicholas. They had never left their teammate alone in the infirmary and Amanda liked the fraternity between them. She was going to spend a night in the infirmary too in the same way, staying beside Nicholas’s bed before he moved to his own house. Joan said they were still going to keep him for a couple of days just in case, so perhaps tonight she would do it.

With Heath, there was only Holly as they shortened their numbers, with the addition of Rosita in their ranks.

Rick motioned at Rosita with her head before he started stiffly debriefing. “Rosita, you go out with Aiden and Heath,” he ordered and turned to Aiden. “Sasha is up in the bell tower. She can’t see far away in the woods, but she’s gonna call in over the radio if she sees something suspicious around.”

Aiden nodded, taking the handheld radio that Rick handed him. They only had taken one as below the ground, they were going to be out of the range. The comms were going to be offline, but Amanda had become habituated to blind missions since the prison. Aiden and Heath moved his people toward the gate to circle in the woods as the rest of them walked to the manhole access.

As they pushed the manhole’s lid, her gaze found the blade Rick carried over his shoulder. Recalling how she stroke down at Nicholas’s arm using the blade made her almost shudder, but snapping her eyes away, Amanda suppressed it down. She wished Rick had left it back in the house, but she also knew they needed the sharp blade to deal with the secured dead. God. This sounded like one of their most crazyass plans.

When the lid was open, Amanda peeked down the tunnel. The smells hit her at the moment as she flinched her head aside, making out a disgusted noise. Carter, who stood beside her, groaned loudly. “Ah—” he breathed out with a mutter. “Why does it smell like this? We don’t use it.”

“It’s still connected to the whole city’s systems—” Aaron answered before anyone of them could do or bothered to do it. The sketch of the town’s grounds was with the recruiter as he acted like their guide with Tobin who replaced Deanna’s husband from yesterday.

“A’right—” Rick roughed out, giving the group a look. “I take the point with Daryl like yesterday. Glenn, you have our six again.” His eyes moved toward her. “Amanda, you have them in the middle.” His head gestured curtly at Alexandrians, not even sparing a glance, his eyes fixated on hers.

Amanda nodded quickly. Rick started descending, putting a foot on the first metal step. “Stay silent and be alert.”

 Daryl followed him closely, and before Amanda took his place, she looked at four Alexandrians that she had to keep their back assets safe. “Stay close to me—” she warned. “Aaron, you follow me. Then Carter, you follow—” she instructed. She wanted Aaron beside her with the map, but Carter was the least experienced civilian, so she wanted him close too. “Doctor—” she turned to the douchebag, “You and Tobin follow him.”

The man gave her a curt nod with Tobin as Amanda moved her gaze to Glenn. “You okay?”

The Korean nodded. “Yeah. See ya down.”

Amanda smiled a bit before she swung her leg down and quickly started climbing down the fixed metal ladder. The smells were expectedly worse, the frail…water beneath her feet splashing when she touched the ground.

Amanda had seen worse. So she held breath, holding back a groan, and turned on her flashlight too as Rick and Daryl spun around themselves doing the same as they moved away from the entrance.

Aaron came beside her the next moment, and Carter followed him with retching sounds a bit longer. Amanda and Aaron turned toward the man, but neither Rick nor Daryl reacted. The next second, Carter started throwing up. Amanda let out a small sigh then.

Perhaps—just perhaps Rick’s idea wasn’t all that bad.

The surgeon joined them, looking at Carter as he wiped his mouth with the cloth Aaron gave him before he took a small sip from the water bottle as well. Rick and Daryl were still disinterested, and Pete Anderson’s face was still expressionless, only a tightness around his mouth.

When she looked at him, his expression even soured further, his eyes having another glint in the flashlight lit darkness. He looked angry, and Amanda wondered if it was because they had made him come down here, but the angry look was directed specifically at her.

Amanda frowned, but she couldn’t ponder on it further because Glenn landed as sleek and silent as a cat the next second, and Rick and Daryl started advancing in the tunnel.

This time it took them faster to find the main exit, despite having two additional numbers into their ranks. The tunnels were as empty as yesterday while they made their way easily and stopped in front of the exit.

They flashed their light across metal bars, Rick casually hitting a bar to make noise. The dead lunged themselves feverishly against the bars after that like rabid dogs. Amanda wondered how long they’d been caged there, how the hell it had happened anyway, how they had become trapped.

She supposed they were a maintenance team, but she suspected it was going to stay as a mystery for the rest of their lives. A lot of stuff stayed as a mystery for them, and Amanda felt a pang of guilt in her chest, using these restless soulless bodies in that way, turning them to their puppets from the twilight zone.

She pressed down the guilt. They did what they had to do. The kids needed to see the dead in a controlled environment, and this was the best way. Amanda couldn’t throw them in that nightmare unprepared.

 Carter made a sound beside her in the flashing dark. “This’s an abomination—” he muttered, his voice carrying over the tunnel in echo, his eyes staring at the dead.

Rick twisted aside, pointing his light at the man. “Welcome to the real world.” Carter gulped loudly as Rick bent down, easing the backpack he was carrying over his other shoulder.

He dropped it on the semi-dry part of the ground, Daryl’s crossbow already targeted at the metal bars as he took guard above him in front of the exit. Rick took the iron cutter out of the backpack. He turned to Aaron and Tobin.

“Poles—”

“Here.” Tobin passed them along.

“Amanda, Glenn—” Rick called out to them. Amanda moved forward beside him with Glenn. Rick lifted his head from where he was crouched in front of the bars. “I cut two bars, make an opening. You catch them—” Amanda took a pole, eyeing the snare mechanism as Glenn did the same.  “We pull them out. Daryl watches over us.”

They nodded. Rick turned to the rest of them. “You go to the other side and make noise. Hit the bars. It would separate them so we could have fewer numbers to deal with.”

“We just hit the bars?” Carter asked, sounding relieved as the surgeon stayed silent.

Rick gave a dismissive nod. “Yeah.”

“You have four poles—” the doctor finally spoke, his eyes on the poles, “There are more than four dead there—” he stated the obvious. “What happens with the others?”

Rick stared at the man before he talked as simply as he was talking about the weather. “We kill ‘em after we secure the four.”

Carter made another loud groan. Pete Anderson didn’t say anything else.

Rick turned to Glenn and her. “A’right. You ready?”

Amanda nodded along with the younger man. Rick pointed at the others to move, sliding on his knees, and raised the iron cutter. Tobin and Aaron started hitting the bars on the other side.

Amanda tried to select her first ‘catch’ in the dimness as she saw Carter and the doctor had joined to make noise out of the corners of her eye. The iron cutting sound mixed with the metallic clamor they made at the other side, but more of the dead were still coming toward them, drawn to the cutting sound.

She twisted aside to the others. “Louder—” she barked out. “Call out to them.”

“Hey—” Aaron quickly obeyed, “C’mon over here!”

Rick quickly cut the first bar as they started loudly calling out at the walkers, Amanda following her ‘catch’ intently. “It’s like fishing—” Glenn commented, slanting her a look. “We just throw the rod and catch ‘em around the neck.”

Amanda let out a sound. “Yeah?”

“Have you ever caught fish?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Me neither.”

She laughed as Rick cut the second bar. “Glenn! Amanda!” Rick shouted over all other voices, quickly jumping to his feet, drawing the katana blade. “NOW!”

Taking a deep breath, trying to calm down her thudding heart, Amanda flexed her right arm backward and lashed it up as she spied Daryl’s hawkish eyes watching her closely, ready to put the rotter down if she missed.

The pole looped around the neck in front of her. She made out a cry of victory and started stepping backward, dragging the dead with her.

“Jesus Christ!” she heard someone cry out, but she couldn’t be sure of who now; Carter or Aaron, or the doctor himself, because she was trying to jerk away from the puppet corpse that was trying to lunge at her at the end of the rod.

Its rotting arms lifted and tried to claw at her, but hands dropped in front of her feet the next second as Rick cut off its rotting limbs, swinging the blade over his head.

 “Amanda!” he shouted at her above the clamor, turning to Glenn. “Get it down!”

Amanda didn’t make him repeat it. As he cut Glenn’s puppet’s arms, Amanda tripped hers on the ground, forcing the pod as she bent down. Daryl put a rotter down that had passed through the opening they had made and Rick pushed it away to clean up the way before he took another rod beside the wall.

“Their teeth?” Amanda yelled to Rick, shifting toward him as she still stood hovering above her rotter. Another rotter pushed through the opening. They were getting too crowded, too damn crowded. “When we cut their teeth?”

“Outside—” Rick yelled back, dragging away his rotter away but tripped over the dead on the ground. He fell to his knees. “Daryl—” Rick shouted, falling on his side as the mechanism snapped and the rotter broke free.

“RICK!” Amanda screamed, holding her rod, her eyes widening as he rolled on his back on the filthy ground, the dead coming at him…Her widened eyes swept at Daryl, but hunched down, the hunter was trying to reload his crossbow.

“RIIICK!” Amanda screamed hysterically as the dead lunged at him. Amanda freed one hand from her pod with the same hysteria, unfastening her holster to draw her gun frantically, but Rick kicked the rotter off of him just before it fell on him.

The dead flew in the air at the other side…directly over to Pete Anderson.

Her heart thudding madly, Amanda snapped her gaze at Rick, her left hand holding the rod, the other holding her gun. His head titled up as he stared ahead, Amanda saw the look on his face—that frosted, stern, cold look.

Her insides turning icy, Amanda raised her right hand and aimed. Her gun made the loudest noise in the closed tunnel as the dead dropped in front of Pete Anderson’s feet.

Still lying on his back, Rick turned to look at her as Amanda stood unmoved, staring back at him.

 

Notes:

I admit that I take great joy in making Rick revise his enemies' tricks and plans to use on his own nemesis, hehe. The ending was a clear shout-out to how Rick killed those gang members in the prison in Season 3 after the man tried to kill him throwing a walker on him during the fight. The next chapter is even going to have a remark from him; 'Shit happens'
And behold, Rick asked Mandy another date! Lol! It was great to start writing them again flirting, but naturally, in the end, I had to poke them again, lol.

Writing is going well, too. I've officially finished the 50th chapter. Which is kinda ironic, because I kept telling myself that I was going to finish the story at 50th at most, and did I manage it? No. Of course, not! God, I hope I won't pass the 55 mark...

Don't forget to tell me what you think if you feel like it and say hello....ciaociao.

Chapter 35: 'Did you mean it?'

Summary:

After learning what happened down in the sewers, Deanna has to reconsider her assessments about Rick and Amanda. Worrying that things are getting out of control and suspicious of what's happening between Rick and Pete Anderson, Amanda decides to take Rick outside for a patrol to talk.

Notes:

Okay, so here is the next chapter, before we move on to the next ones, to deal with Rick and his little 'Pete Anderson' issue. But this is gonna be the last time I post a chapter until I really finish the final chapters, and start dealing with outlining the next book as I need to pace the story beforehand. I don't consider starting updating the next book until I at least finish the first half of it, so I really need to hasten my pace with writing, ugh. So in the next chapter, I hope to start my author note with 'I DID IT. FINISHED' Wish me luck. (I even outlined in detail the last chapters, so I just need to sit down and write now. A little spoiler for the end. The last chapter is gonna be called 'First Time Again'. Snitched a title from the show. Hehe.)

We might see new readers from FF. Net because I invited people who are interested in the story there over to here, as I'd stopped updating regularly there because of the lack of feedback. So you're one of those people, don't hesitate to say hi! I was so happy to see you still interested :)

Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When it started raining, it also poured. It was a fact of life that had been proved to Deanna many times in her years, and once more Deanna was having a head-splitting headache, almost enough to make her turn around and look for cameras.

There were none.

It wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t a game. It was just their life, just how Rick would have said. The thought irked Deanna as Carter fumed in front of her desk in her study room. “He did it, Deanna!” The man bristled with his fire, leaning over to her, still visibly pale and shaken, covered with dirt and spots of blood.

Deanna held on to the urge to sigh, holding her temples, instead stayed silent, regarding the man closely. Even with one small excursion with them had turned the man like that. To be fair to her, Deanna had expected this to bring her nothing but a headache, yes, but this wasn’t what she’d expected. Not in this way.

“He kicked off one of those things at Pete!” Carter shouted.

Deanna’s eyes cut over to Aaron who sat on the other seat in front of the man, looking as bedraggled and shaken as Carter even though the recruiter tried to keep his calm on the surface, rather futilely.

She knew this was a mistake, she knew she wouldn’t have let them take Carter and Pete down in the sewers, but—those pesky, damn buts. Those buts made all the difference. Things don't get better because you want them to!

No one would know it better than Deanna. And, the townspeople needed to start learning about that, too. She could never agree with Rick on everything, but she could agree on that.

“He kicked it off of himself—” Aaron corrected, still trying to hold on to his calmness, turning sideways toward the man before he looked back at Deanna. “It was the heat of the moment. The walker suddenly broke loose and fell on him. He did it to protect himself.”

Deanna had listened to the tale from Pete first with Aaron. Both men had told the same, with hard stern faces, and cutting looks. Pete was as shaken as Carter, too, but holding up it like Aaron. Perhaps even in a better way. But then again, Pete seldom lost it unless it involved alcohol, Deanna had already surmised too.

Even the surgeon had said the same thing in his interview, that Rick had kicked it off at him, away from himself, his voice curt and low, then Officer Shepherd had put it down at the last minute.

Even the thought of losing the surgeon if the female officer had been a second late was enough to make her hands fisted under her desk in fury, but Deanna restrained herself. Pete Anderson also had to come back to his senses, much like everyone else. They couldn’t tolerate what had happened last night. She felt like the Alexandria she envisioned coming apart, ripping off at the seams. It was her job to put it back together.

Deanna looked at Carter serenely. “Pete told the same thing, too, Carter—” Deanna replied. “Why would Rick do that?” he questioned.

“He wants to fear us into submission!” Carter cried back. “Don’t you see it? He wanted us down there for that, and you let him. He’s an agitator!”

And here came the accusations, even though Deanna knew the man had a point, Rick was using fear to get what he wanted with the townspeople, and Deanna was letting him because she needed him to do it. It was an intimidation tactic, and Deanna wouldn’t have played along, either, but—

She sighed mentally, those damn, pesky buts. Sometimes it felt like all of her beliefs and ethics, all her foundations were circled with those buts, coming up with every conflict. Deanna had never been foreign to the notion, she was a politician for many, many years, trying to swim in a sea full of sharks, but even the dangerous uncharted waters of D.C were nothing next to this.

Here they were the fish out of the water, not the sharks.

“He said, ‘shit happens’” Carter rasped in a lower voice, shaking his head, “After we get out, in the woods, while he cut those abominations, he just said that. Shit happens.”

Deanna’s mouth tightened. “He said he would take care of you, and he did, Carter. You’re both alive,” Deanna replied, deciding to close the discussion. She didn’t know what else to do. They should move on. There was always a risk, with every step one of them taken outside the walls, there was always a risk, and Rick was right on that: Shit happens.

All of them were safe. That was the part they better focused on than the rest because the alternative was only one; that Rick had done it on purpose, that he had tried to kill Pete Anderson, and it didn’t make sense.

It wasn’t because he wouldn’t do it. No. Deanna wasn’t an idiot. She was pretty sure where the man stood when it came to killing, but he had a moral compass. Like the female officer had said, they lived by a code. Rick always tried to justify his actions and even though his words were harsh and insensible, they always had a point.

There was no reason Deanna would think of Rick wanting to do that. Their surgeon could get a bit handful sometimes, especially with his liquor, but who didn’t have problems now? They all had suffered. If Deanna didn’t turn blind eye to some of the stuff, Denise wouldn’t have lifted her head from her desk.

She sent them away and waited for Rick and his…abstracted girlfriend. Deanna had no idea what they were right now, as Denise had also told her that they had broken up. The woman had moved to the other house last week, so she guessed Denise was right. Denise had also informed her that the female officer had stopped their interviews until the classes were done, and Denise had given her okay. She even had said that the woman was pretty much holding up, so perhaps Deanna should send Rick to Denise this time, just in case. She never mentioned it, of course.

A couple of minutes later, the female officer walked into the study alone. Deanna raised an eyebrow. “Where’s Rick?”

She sat in the seat Aaron had just left. “He’s securing the walkers in the basement with Aiden—” she explained stiffly. “He said he will come later.”

After they had come back with those things, they had gone to the basement they were using as detention cells while Deanna talked with Pete and Aaron, having their deposition. Carter had come the second, and Deanna had informed Aaron she wanted to talk with Rick and Amanda for the last too, hearing both sides of the story, but it seemed Rick was also testing her.

 “The dead?” Deanna inquired, choosing to let it go, too. “Are they secure?”

“We cut off all their limbs and pulled out their teeth—” she answered. “But Rick takes no chances. They’re chaining them to the wall,” she continued. “We’ll bring the kids to the basement this afternoon.”

Deanna nodded. She figured it was safer that way. “What happened down there, officer?” she asked directly after then.

“What usually happens—” she replied with the same stiffness and repeated what everyone had said. “The dead Rick was trying to capture broke free and attacked him.”

“Carter said he threw it on Pete—” Deanna stated, staring her in the eye, trying to gauge her reaction.

A brief hesitation clouded her eyes before she jerked her head. “Pete was standing just in front of him at the other side of the tunnel. They were trying to distract the dead away from us. It was an accident.”

“Shit happens?”

Light green eyes snapped at Deanna, her face getting stern. “Yeah.”

Deanna leaned toward her over the table. “Amanda, I know our people are a lot to deal and I know Rick wants them to come around,” she spoke, feeling a shift of the balance.

Usually, it was the man himself Deanna made this talk, not the female officer. But Deanna had also seen her taking control of the room in the meeting, quickly establishing herself, calming everyone down. Perhaps Deanna had made a mistake in her evaluation of the woman, perhaps her cloth was made of more than being a patrol officer.

Only time would truly tell, but for now, she was what Deanna had. “I asked him to come with you,” she continued, “but it appears he opted to stay in the basement.” Deanna paused. “He’s getting…handful, too.”

Her face still stayed expressionless as she looked back at Deanna. “Will you send him to Denise?” she asked curtly.

“I’m afraid it’s a bit too late for that now.”

The woman gave her a curt smile, half-mocking. “I guess it is.”

“Amanda, would he do that on purpose?” Deanna asked, not beating the bush further.

She shook her head. “No. Rick isn't like that. If he wanted to kill anyone, he wouldn’t bother with such tricks,” she answered directly. “He would just do it.”

Deanna knew it wasn’t a joke, either. “No. I’m not talking about that—” Deanna objected. “I’m asking if he would throw one of those things at someone to…make a point?”

The officer was silent first for a second, then they shared a look, and it was the only answer Deanna needed. Without another word, the woman stood up and left the room.

Alone in her study, Deanna pulled out her dossier from her first drawer and started rummaging through it until she found the last sheets. Rick was at the top of the pile like how Deanna had left it. Her eyes scanned over the quick notes Denise had scratched in their first interview, picking a few from the rest:

Skeptical and untrusting; trust issues bordering paranoia. Confrontational, but protective, the pack leader. Caution: Escalation. As she stared at the last word, Carter’s statement echoed in her mind louder; he’s trying to fear us into submission.

What had happened, how quickly the situation had escalated with Dave and his pals was still too fresh in her mind, but Deanna still wanted to stay on her optimistic side, wary but optimistic. Rick isn’t like that. The declaration carried some a strong belief underneath, and Deanna knew if a woman like Amanda Shepherd talked about someone like that, there had to be something more than blind belief. Deanna had been always a good poker player, she was essentially good at reading people. But sometimes it was hard to see what lay beneath hidden at the first glance.

 Her hand flipped the pages, and she came to the female officer, eyeing the stretched-out trust issues on the page, yes, Deanna rarely read people wrong, but—

Those damn, pesky buts.

Deanna heaved, feeling as old as she was. She was tired, this world had finally tired her too, her dreams, her beliefs. Things don’t get better because you want them to. Deanna let out another weary sigh, her eyes skipping at the top of the page, toward the red SP-W amalgam.

She stared at it for moments, her right hand taking the red pen on the desk, hitting the butt of it on her desk repeatedly, thoughts spinning in her mind until her door squeaked.

Deanna lifted her head, stopping the pen’s motion, and looked at his firstborn. “Mother—” Aiden greeted, striding toward her desk as Deanna closed off her dossier.

“Finished?” she questioned as Aiden took the seat in front of her.

“Yeah.” Her son nodded briefly. “Grimes said they’ll do it afternoon, starting with the kids.”

Deanna leaned over her table toward her son to look at him intently. “All’s secure, Aiden, right? We’re one hundred percent sure?”

Aiden gave her another quick nod. “Yeah. All secure, mother. He made it quite certain—” he replied firmly but paused— “But—” Deanna almost sighed aloud as Aiden gave her a heavy look. “He still has his gun. Haven’t checked it back to the armory yet.”

Deanna scowled. She wished she could’ve said she didn’t see that coming, she wished. Her gun restriction policy was something Deanna had been expecting Rick to make an opposition long ago. If she had to admit, she was even surprised it took this long to get to this point.

“Hmm—” Deanna slowly hummed in musing. “I think we can make an exception for this occasion because of the safety concerns.”

“Yeah, but how long?” Aiden asked in return. “Amanda played it down this time, but even she asked that, Mother.”

 Deanna considered his remarks and the question. They had had another quasi strife that the female officer had put down. It didn’t surprise Deanna anymore, just made it more certain.

For the gun issue, Deanna eyed her firstborn curiously. “I’d never expect you to advocate for it—” she mused out, staring at her son with a small, kind smile, but also getting a bit worried. Aiden seemed to have…an affection for the female officer, and Rick’s declaration regarding the woman, despite their breakup was clear in her mind, too. I love her.

Deanna knew the words were meant truly because she also knew Rick Grimes wasn’t a man who would have made such a declaration without feeling it strongly. Deanna suspected the man hadn’t even made it to where he should have in the first place. There was some drama involved over there, something Deanna would prefer her son stay out of, but Aiden was too damn old to have that kind of talk.

“What do you think?” she asked for an opinion. “Should we let him?”

Aiden looked uncharacteristically pensive for a couple of minutes, clearly regarding her inquiry before slowly saying, “You made him our Sheriff,” he answered stiffly. “We’ll need to discuss the gun policy in the end, but—”

Her son stopped, and this time Deanna allowed herself a weary sigh out. “Yeah—” she muttered. “Those little pesky buts, Aiden.” She paused, shaking her head. “But we’ve already given him too much freehand,” she completed in her son’s stead, Carter’s words and the red advise note flashing in her mind. “I want him unarmed inside the walls until we finish these and settle down. Then we’ll talk.”

Aiden nodded in admission. “Yeah.”

Deanna jerked her head at his firstborn a little. “Now, go and check the town before we have an uprising in our hands—” Deanna urged him off.

The bitching and bickering had already started since yesterday she’d received tons of formal complaints about the changes they had commenced. When the news of what had happened in the sewers, what Deanna had allowed became public, things were going to heat up even further. Carter wouldn’t miss that opportunity to question her authority, either, she knew it. The man was still bitter and angry because Deanna hadn’t preferred him as her aide.

She shook her head, chasing off the thoughts, and looked at Aiden. “Off you go—” she waved her hand at her son. “I need to think.”

With a gentle smile, her firstborn stood up and leaned over her desk, and pecked her at her cheek. “You think too much, mom—”

The affectionate gesture brought a genuine smile to her as Deanna remembered her little boy who used to give her kisses each morning before he left for school and answered in the same way. “Someone has to.”

After he left the room, Deanna returned to her dossier. She opened it again and flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for. Staring at the woman’s keen green eyes taken from her camera, impassive cool face, Deanna took her red pen.

She tapped it on her desk twice, before she scratched the SP-W in a definite motion and wrote down FP-W instead.

# # #

When Amanda left the study room, her stomach had coiled into a tight knot, Deanna’s question spinning in her mind.

Amanda hadn’t lied. This kind of subterfuge, ploys weren’t Rick’s style. Rick was always direct, confrontational, but he was also adaptable. If he wanted to get rid of Pete Anderson without any hassle, that would have been a perfect solution, losing the man in the heat of the battle. Because yeah, shit happened. All the time.

Yet even Deanna had seen it. It didn’t make any sense. Rick didn’t like the man, like the many times he’d admitted it, but the last time they had spoken, he’d told her to stay away. He had even claimed the surgeon wasn’t his priority. What had changed since then?

Amanda didn’t know, but she’d really started feeling she was really missing something.

Would he do that? Throw the walker at the douchebag? On purpose, no, unless he wanted you dead, but to make a point? Amanda knew that answer too. Hell yes.

Rick wasn’t only bark, bark, bark, he had the bite too. He didn’t bluff. He had wanted Carter and the doctor with them for a reason, only Amanda wasn’t sure of that reason anymore. This was getting out of control. She’d started making a lot of assumptions, presumptions she didn’t want to, the very things that Rick would feel offended if he learned.

Amanda felt she was bouncing over his wide spectrum between the opposites again, that wild beast who would rip out throats with his teeth to protect his lot, and the kind man who thought of their comforts until the heating systems.

She didn’t say she was much better. She was as much an emotional wreck as he was, one moment demanding a break, the next fucking him drunk. Perhaps they just both should go to Denise. The thought almost made her laugh bitterly. They sure needed couple therapy. Wearily, she sighed silently, even them going to Denise together seemed so absurd, she didn’t know what else to think.

Leaving the Monroe residence, Amanda headed for the armory. The rotters were secured, so there was no reason to keep their guns inside the walls now. She knew Aiden and the others had already left them upon their return. Rick and she had still kept theirs because they didn’t take any chances. Amanda didn’t even want to think what would have happened if she had been late, again, a split moment late, just like she had been with Maggie, and almost with Beth.

It wasn’t something she wanted to think about it, so she forced the thought away. As she handed her Glock back to Olivia, her mind swirled and she pondered if she should take Rick out for…a talk. Their way back to Alexandria after exiting the tunnel had passed in a blur in the clamor, Carter shouting at them, Rick ignoring his tantrum, Glenn and Aiden trying to calm everyone down as the doctor himself stayed taciturn as ever.

Possibly it was what disturbed Amanda the most, Pete Anderson didn’t look like someone who had been thrown a rotter at. Once they were inside, they had hurled the dead in the basement of the undecorated house that Deanna kept as the town’s detention center under the townspeople’s curious, and mostly unapproving, gazes.

If they had thought bringing one of the rotters to the infirmary was bad, this was nothing next to this. A patrol outside didn’t sound so bad right now, Amanda thought again as she felt the looks on her back after leaving the armory to meet with Rick and the others again.

 They should go toward the northwest and check the grounds there. They still should look for the Wolves’ track. The sewers’ exit was at the northwest, but Del Arno was at the northeast. Though, Amanda didn’t know how to breach the topic, sensing Rick wouldn’t want to talk about that.

Amanda stopped in front of the detention house. It was one of the few houses they had sold insides that weren’t fully finished so that the buyers would make the necessary adjustments as their wishes. The siding walls and the hardboard floors were complete, but bare, waiting to be decorated. Amanda passed the hall and started descending the staircase beside the powder room that led to the basement, ignoring the sudden goosebumps on her skin.

She fucking hated basements.

Amanda shut off the thought quickly, blocking away the thoughts that were always there waiting to slip through whenever her barriers weakened. The snarls of the dead were audible even from outside and Amanda welcomed the distraction as she opened the door.

Both Rick and Aiden twisting aside looked at her as she walked into the scarce room, Rick’s gaze lingering a bit longer before he turned to the rotting corpse he was trying to tie over the column in the room.

Two of the dead were secured around it, ropes wounded over their bodies as the other two were chained to the metal box in the corner. Amanda guessed it was the utility box for the houses that arrived from the solar panels and the town’s power grid, and there was another one for the heating systems at the other side, unoccupied.

Aiden straightened as they finished the last rotter, taking off his working gloves. “I guess that’s it.”

Rick followed his example, stuffing his into his back pocket too. “Yeah.”

“Should we gag them too?” Aiden asked, slanting a look at her when Amanda stopped beside them, but Rick shook his head.

“No. They need to know the sounds they make. They would know the danger is close when they hear it.”

Aiden nodded, seeing the tactical advantage. “A’right.” He looked at the dead. “When do we do it then?”

“This afternoon—” Rick answered without a beat, then paused a second before he added, “The quicker this’s done, the better. I don’t want any kid to get curious, either.”

A smile almost broke over her lips as she remembered the tales she’d heard in the prison about Carl and his misadventures, slipping away and finding trouble. Knowing the young teenager better now, Amanda wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t also surprised it was Rick’s second fear.

“We put them down as soon as we’re done—” she mumbled.

Rick nodded absently as Aiden turned to him. “I’m going to the armory. You coming?” Amanda’s eyes flickered toward his hip where his holster held his handgun as Rick’s impassive face turned cold marble. His Colt Python was at his duty belt, their rifles resting along the wall.

“There’re walkers inside the town right now—” Rick replied, his voice a low growl deep in his throat.

Aiden’s expression closed too. “We secured them.”

Rick stayed silent, only gazing at Aiden, his finger inching toward his gun in his habitual gesture, but he didn’t tap his fingers at the gun’s butt, just put his hand.

“And they’re still here—” Amanda cut in between them, backing up Rick once more, feeling as if they were running around circles. She jerked her head at the tied dead. “One of us should have a gun just in case.”

“It’s against the no-guns policy—” Aiden said stiffly.

Amanda wanted to sigh deeply this time. “You call him sheriff, Aiden—” she replied. “How long will he go around without his gun?”

It was a legitimate question they needed to find an answer to, and they all knew it. Aiden was looking at her, and instead of watching the man back, Rick was staring at her. His eyes returned to Aiden then, waiting.

“After the class,” Aiden spoke at last slowly, turning to him, too. “You leave it to the armory.”

Rick’s eyes cut over to her for a split second too before he nodded curtly. For a little while, the only sounds in the rundown place were the snarls and growls before Aiden left them. Amanda shook her head after his back, letting out a sigh, and looked back at Rick.

“You should talk about this with Deanna,” she remarked. He made a low sound, almost a growl, but didn’t answer. “She also waits for you for your debrief.”

“I don’t have time right now to play the twenty questions with her,” Rick grated out, sounding as disinterested as he looked before they started leaving the basement. Amanda couldn’t be any happier. “I’m gonna take Beatrice’s car out to the roadblock before the class.”

Opening the door, Amanda shook her head. “No, wait until the class is done. I want to check Del Arno again,” she said, stopping in the midway of the staircase, hoping her words sounded as casual as she intended. “You park Lamborghini then I’ll drive us to the north with the van. We make a patrol.”

Rick stopped on the step just above hers, and twisting his torso aside toward her, he tilted his head down at her. His gaze had grown more intent. He looked almost startled that she’d made a plan that involved them going out together, not to mention alone, but he was also suspicious, his gaze holding a keen wariness.

It wasn’t unexpected, though. Amanda was damn aware she was playing out of character, but Rick only nodded a second later, accepting her casual offer with a small ‘okay’.

# # #

“Heath!” Beth cried out after the team leader, slightly jogging to catch up with him as he toured around the western grid in his hour shift. The town had divided into four grids just like Rick had proclaimed, and each watch pairs were taking a grid.

“Amanda cleared me for patrols and watches—” Beth started as soon as she arrived at his side before he had stopped to wait for her. “Can I come with you guys?”

His dreadlocks shook freely too as Heath shook his head. “Aiden still prepares the shift.”

“Yeah, I know—” Beth countered quickly, almost out of breath. “But he’s occupied with the walkers they brought this morning. So, I thought I can talk to you instead.”

Amanda had told her the same after the general meeting yesterday, but when she woke up this morning and had heard the news afterward, Beth knew she couldn’t wait anymore. Beth didn’t do waiting anymore. No.

Perhaps she couldn’t go for outside patrols yet, no one of them seemed to do it right now anyway, but she at least took watches, patrols. She imagined herself touring around the wall, just like Heath had been doing, and liked the sentiment.

When she thought of herself like that, even her palm stopped itching. For a while, at least. It always returned, but Beth was glad of the reprise.

“Holly is going up to bell tower this morning—” the man with dreadlocks said. “Dylan is alone. You can pair up with him, I guess.”

Beth thought of the young brunette man. He must be slightly older than her, probably nineteen or something, as he was one of the youngest of the supply teams. Beth wondered if that was the case why Heath had considered him as her partner, but she didn’t mind.

He looked like he knew what he was doing with his gun. He’d been outside the walls too with Heath’s team when they’d arrived, but Beth caught him looking at her after they came back a couple of times, and he had a good smile, soft brown twinkling eyes that made him look…interesting.

“Thanks—” she repeated before leaving the man to go back to the town to find others. She wanted to find Carl and talk to him, tell him she started taking patrols. Carl possibly would want to do it as well, but Beth didn’t know how his father would feel about this. They couldn’t have talked last night, things had happened, and Carl was with Clarice.

Beth didn’t let that fact bother her any longer. They had made their choice, and Carl looked like he had done too, as Beth had started seeing them together in the town holding hands. But they were still friends. Beth had hoped they would’ve patrolled together, taken watches, but perhaps this way was better. Perhaps later, when everything settled down, they would do that too. Later.

She craned her neck up and checked the sun. Amanda and Rick would show the walkers to the kids then they would start butchering them to show the adults how to do it, too, the joys of their life.

Beth didn’t want to stay for the last…entertainment, but for the kids, she headed toward the house they held the walkers. Before she made it, Ron suddenly came up to her way from the backroad. Swearing inside, she looked at her…friend with benefits, realizing she had forgotten to check on him for his father.

Oops.

“Hey—” Beth said, giving a slight pat on the shoulder. “I heard it this morning. How’s your father?”  

“He’s fine—” Ron replied crisply, fidgeting his weight to one foot before he almost growled. “Carl’s father almost got him dead.”

Beth shook her head, her expression closing off. “It wasn’t his fault.”

“Shit happens, right?” he snapped. Beth scowled. “It was what he said. I heard Carter say it. He almost got my father killed, then said it.”

“I know you’re upset,” Beth replied. “But yeah, he’s right. You shouldn’t hold any grudge.”

Ron stared at her coldly. “What if my father died down there?”

Then he died, came to the tip of her tongue, a flash of a katana blade falling on her father’s neck and a rotting mouth bit Maggie’s neck over her eyes, and she almost told it, too, before she swallowed it down.

Instead, she just shook her head. She didn’t want to talk anymore, didn’t even want to think about it, think about broken promises, forgotten words. It served no purpose. It was something Ron would never understand.

“It’s not fair,” Ron mumbled. Beth looked at him questionably before he finally let it out. “Father doesn’t want me to spend time with you anymore.”

Raising her eyebrow at the declaration, Beth eyed her friend with benefits curiously. “Me or us?” she asked to clarify.

“You and Carl—” Ron elaborated, just like Beth had thought.

“I see—” she hummed slowly and looked back at him. “So…is this a breakup conversation?” she asked directly. “Do you want to break up with me?”

She guessed they couldn’t break up truly as they hadn’t started anything officially, but she didn’t know what else to call it. It was her first true breakup, and suddenly it came to Beth…funny. Her lips twitched, and Ron shot at her a look.

“If you stopped talking to Carl, my father perhaps—”

Her expression halting, turning to icy, Beth cut him off. “Do you want me to stop talking to Carl?” she repeated lowly.

Ron stayed silent, only looking at her. Beth started laughing. She couldn’t believe it. “Do you think I would stop talking to Carl because of you?” Her laughter suddenly dying, she stopped, gazing back at him. “Carl and I are family. And nothing,” she continued, “nothing would ever change it.”

Their future was unknown, with who they would be, how they would be, Beth didn’t know, but she knew one thing. Whatever would happen, they would always face it together, side by side, holding each other’s hand as they had done in the woods. Carl was her family, the only family she had left with.

Ron nodded curtly and turned on his heel before he strode away. Looking after his back, Beth searched through her feelings to understand what she was feeling. If she was upset or sad, this was her first official getting dump, even though they weren’t exactly dating, but all Beth could find inside her was actually…relief.

She wasn’t sad, she wasn’t angry. Beth was relieved.

Truth was that she was getting bored. Sex was good, and she liked it, a lot more than she had expected, but Beth was very much aware that Ron was still pinning on Clarice. It didn’t disturb her. She understood she didn’t like Ron that way, no, but in hindsight, she started wondering even now asking her to cut her ties with Carl, Ron was actually jealous of Carl. That he wanted to keep her away from Carl because Carl…stole Clarice from him. Perhaps, what had happened with his father had just sweetened his deal.

Beth didn’t know, but she supposed it didn’t make any difference anymore. Over her eyes, suddenly Dylan’s twinkling eyes came up, and she also realized why she felt relief too, her stomach making a slight flip flop. The feeling was sudden and almost foreign, and it excited her as much as killing a walker did.

She let out a burst of laughter, deciding to keep the thought to herself as she trekked to the house that held the walkers.

Inside the basement was already filled with the kids and their approving parents, and children's cries. Some of them had lunged over their parents’ legs, hiding their faces between them, some of them were towed against chests, faces still hidden. Beth looked around and saw the walkers that had been tied around the columns, their rotting covered with black sacks.

But still, they were aroused with the living, bodies stirring, snarls coming clear and loud behind the cloth over the commotion inside the empty, sparse room. It was also cold. Beth surmised they hadn’t heated the house for their current occupants.

The basement wasn’t so crowded as Beth suspected they didn’t want to make it overly chaotic. Half of the children weren’t even down with them. She counted five kids, and aside from the parents, a few adults. One of them was that tall bald man who kept bitching about Rick, watching the scene with a clear disapproving look behind Deanna. As far as Beth knew, the man didn’t have a child, a knowledge Beth suspected to be true as he was always standing in the corner alone.

Amanda and Rick were talking to Daryl and Abraham across from him. They looked like they were waiting for something, so Beth spun around, trying to locate more familiar faces. Carl hadn’t come yet, and it wasn’t a surprise that Clarice was no sight, as well.

A pang of disappointment and a feeling of exclusion seeped through her when she realized she didn’t have Ron to look for anymore, either, then as quick as it came, it passed as her eyes caught Dylan in another corner.

She strode off to him quickly, putting a gentle smile over her face. “Hey, Dylan.”

“Hello, Beth.” The young man quickly greeted her back, clearly surprised that she sought him out.

Beth propped her side at the wall in front of him and explained. “I’m cleared out for patrols and watches. I talked to Heath today. He said I can take the evening watch with you tonight.”

“Oh.”

One syllable and Beth smiled. Carl and Clarice just walked inside at the moment, holding hands again. They’d started doing that for a while too, strolling in the town hand to hand. The first time Beth had seen it, she had felt jealous again, but right now, she didn’t know. She waited for it to come, but there was nothing. Her eyes cut over to Dylan. “I’ll see ya in the evening then?” she asked before she trekked to her friends.

They stood silently in their corner, Beth acknowledging them with a slight nod. “I still can’t believe they did this—” Clarice mumbled, her gaze falling on the covered walkers.

“Yeah,” Carl mumbled back. “But they’re right. This’s the safest way.”

Beth and Clarice shrugged at the same time, simultaneously. Beth almost smiled, looking at her, but her eyes suddenly fixated, she stared at the entrance at Beth’s back. Twisting her neck aside, Beth spied a look over her shoulder and saw Ron walking into the basement.

He directly went to Carter’s side. They exchanged a few words before his gaze found Clarice once more. Beth’s eyes slanted toward Carl who watched the whole exchange silently, but studiously, his baby blue eyes cutting an edge similar to his father.

The clamor was still in the room, kids' frightening, upset cries and walkers aroused growls, parents quiet soothing mixed between, but all of them were hushed around her for a second as Clarice stared at Ron back across the room.

At that moment, Beth realized Ron had also made that talk he’d done with her with the other girl. Her gaze flicked over to Clarice, and taking a step, the younger teenage girl held Carl’s hand and laced her fingers through his.

Ron’s face got completely closed off as Amanda walked ahead of them and stood in the middle of the room.

“Don’t be afraid—” Her only remaining sister remarked with a clear voice. “They can’t hurt any of you anymore.” Hearing her decisive, certain tone made the room quickly silenced, everyone turning to listen to her.

“Sounds make them more aroused, so the quieter we are, it’s better.” Rick and the others started walking to the walkers, Aiden joining up to them as Amanda continued, “So, let’s see them first—”

# # #

Feeling bone-tired, Rick took a quick shower after they cut up the walkers and prepared again to go out. His head was splitting in two with a throbbing headache, all the fuss and clamor the townspeople had done, children's crying and tantrums, and the others' disapproving looks.

Rick shut off all the thoughts and buttoned his shirt quickly. There were a few hours of daylight left and if they wanted to make a patrol, they had better hurry. A part of him was still surprised by Amanda’s offer, wanting to be out with him, alone, but Rick wasn’t an idiot. She possibly wanted to take him away from Alexandria and have a talk, as uncharacteristically as it sounded, it was also Amanda’s thing. She had even tried to get Gorman outside of Grady and have a talk with Lamson before everything had started with them.

Understanding that she treated him in the same way how she’d treated that slimeball douchebag flared his temper as much as it hurt him, but Rick held on to his anger.

Perhaps, they really had to talk. This wasn’t how Rick had imagined it would be. Rick didn’t want to do it, but Carol was right too. He couldn’t hide what was happening between him and Pete Anderson forever from her. He just didn’t want to do it…now. Later. When they settled down again, if she accepted another dinner with him, then Rick would…talk.

If she didn’t, then he supposed there was nothing to talk about, either. Rick let out a frustrated-weary sigh, shaking his head slightly as he buttoned his collar, his eyes catching a small fading hickey she had done at the base of his throat, at the edge of his collarbone in the mirror. It was one of Amanda’s favorite places to kiss him in the heat of passion, trailing her lips across his throat and collarbone, gnawing on his neck.

His eyes slanted over to the twin-size bed, Rick imagined the few scant times he had her in there, sprawled over the sheets, only wearing that dark emerald silk chemise. How Rick wanted her in his bed like that again, curled up against him as they watched a movie or read together, her hand slipping under his shirt unconsciously, stroking him. What had happened to those times? Where were they gone?

  This is us—he remembered himself telling her, touching his sparkling necklace, gazing at her eyes. That was still them, Rick had to believe that, Amanda must still feel that, the snowflake necklace was still around her neck. But instead of this, instead of waking up every morning together, Rick was taken out for a talk.

Possibly about what had happened down in the sewers.

The very last thing Rick wanted to talk with anyone. A part of his mind was already occupied with the retaliation the sonofabitch might want to get. Anderson hadn’t said anything, unlike Carter who had made the whole fuss, just taken it silently. The silence of the man worried Rick more than Carter’s accusations and barking. If the bastard tried anything—

Rick stopped the thought, not letting it go further. If he continued that line of thinking, he was afraid he wouldn’t have stopped himself but finished what he had started. His eyes caught his reflection in the mirror again, his darkened stern eyes, cold face, taciturn, unflinching expression.

A face of a killer?

His throat moved as his jaw set in more as he looked back at his reflection, the man in the mirror. He hadn’t planned—not in the ways it had happened. Initially, what he’d told Deanna was true, he had wanted to scare the men, get them to wake up, see what they were against, but when the walker broke free, and he saw the man in front of him across him.

It was a moment everything halted in slow motion like in movies, the clamor around him, Amanda calling out his name coming so far away, walkers snarling and growling distinctly mixed to her cries, Daryl trying to ready his crossbow, and Rick looked at Anderson—the man held his baby girl in his arms as he threatened Rick with talking to his son. The walker lunged at him, and Rick threw it at the bastard.

What he’d expected, he wasn’t sure. Rick just did it, much like the time he tossed his head back and then sunk his teeth into a throat, ripping it out. It wasn’t a planned action, but his intent was clear.

Rick didn’t care if his action would have gotten the bastard dead. He wasn’t going to deny it or feel any remorse. Pete Anderson had already crossed that line more than he could count, and last night was the last stroke. Rick was ready to face Deanna’s fury if he had to, ready to face the consequences. His hands inched toward his gun, still looking at himself in the mirror.

The only reason, the only reason Rick still stayed put was that he knew Amanda didn’t want any clash, but Rick wasn’t going to let his family and their prosperity become collateral damage in the meanwhile. If he could’ve kept Amanda away, he would have, but they’d crossed that line too now.

He left the master bedroom, descending steps quickly to check Judith before he left the house. He hadn't had time since they were back from the sewers, and he wanted to see how she was doing with cutting teeth. She was with Carol and Mika in the living room, the toys scattered around them as Judith slightly whined in the middle of them, refusing to eat what Carol had prepared.

Crouching beside the blanket, Rick held up his hand on Judy’s forehead to check her fever. She was slightly warm, but not much. “I gave her a shot of ibuprofen,” Carol said emphatically, setting down the small plate at her side as Judith threw her small arms in the arms for him. “It set her fever down, but she’s still grumpy.”

Rick nodded, taking her up in his arms, and stood up. Judith threw her head at his shoulder, making low whinny sobbing. “Dada—” she grunted out in a baby noise, drooling over his shoulder.

“Sweetheart—” Rick dipped his head, twisting his neck to look down at her, his lips pulling out at their own. “Dada will bring you something from outside, ‘kay?” he talked to her slowly in a low voice, kissing the top of her head lightly.

“Dada.”

Bending, Rick started giving her back to Carol, but this time Judy made a shrieking wail, tightening her tiny arms around his neck as her whinny sobbing turned to full cries. “Da-da—da-da…”

Rick sighed, remembering the times Carl used to do the same whenever Rick tried to leave in the morning for work after seeing him in uniform. He wasn’t in uniform anymore, but it appeared his baby girl had developed the same routine too, fearing her father would abandon her. His chest constringing, Rick towed her closer to himself.

“Sweetheart—” Rick called to her as Carol talked to her, trying to take her from Rick. “Dada needs to go to work.”

Judith sneaked away from her once more, leaning aside, hiding at the crook of Rick’s shoulder more. Carol gave him another sympathetic look. “She feels like this since the morning.” Rick straightened up, bouncing Judy to calm down. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll bring Beatrice’s Lamborghini out to the roadblock with Amanda, then we make a patrol.”

Carol raised an eyebrow. “You asked, or she did?” she questioned.

“She.”

“Hmm.”

Rick gave her a look over Judith. “You talked to her after we came from the sewers?” he questioned, wondering if Carol somehow played matchmaker between them, but the older woman shook her head.

“No, sweetheart. Whatever this is, it’s her own doing.”

Rick bobbed his head briefly, tilting it back from Judy. ’kay.” He looked down at the baby girl. “I’ll soothe her, then you take her, and I slip off?” he asked, remembering how Lori used to distract Carl so Rick would have slipped off in the mornings like these.

Carol nodded as the door outside opened, and they heard Amanda. “Rick, where are you?” she called out in the hall, her voice getting nearer. “We’re getting late.”

She stopped in the doorway, looking at Rick and Judy who was calmed down a bit, but Amanda’s face held a sudden panic. “Is everything OK?”

“Yeah—” Rick answered quickly, turning to her. “Just grumpy.”

“She doesn’t want Mr. Grimes to leave, Amanda—” Mika filled her in better than Rick had done. Amanda’s eyes cut over to them again, and she walked to them.

Stopping beside him, Amanda checked her fever just like Rick had. Seeing her, Judith suddenly threw herself over her from his arms. Rick smiled, shaking his head as Amanda held up her arms to catch Judy, laughing.

“Well, looks like she forgot me—” He smiled at her too, passing Judy to her.

“Sorry.” She bounced the girl up in the air, lifting her head. Her cries stopped, Judy made a giggle at her. “You just didn’t understand her. She wants to be thrown up in the air, don’t you, little bunny?” she asked, making another bounce that made Judy giggle louder.

Amanda tossed him a look. “You go… I’ll come in a minute.”

Judy distracted with Amanda, Rick sneaked away silently, the scene making him feel a bit better too. He found Lamborghini parked in front of the main gate like he’d instructed, and he took the smart key from Jeff.

Beatrice possibly was crying over her car, but the sports car was better used outside as their gateway car. The electronic systems were almost uncrackable, so no one would hijack it, wouldn’t even dry off its gas. The dusted light yellow Chevrolet Chevy van seemed more old-fashioned next to the dark grey shiny sports car, but its red eagle was as fashionable as ever.

Like she’d promised, Amanda showed up five minutes later, scurrying over to him. She stopped in front of him. Rick eyed her. “She’s okay?”

Amanda bobbed her head. “Yeah. Fed her meal, too.”

Saying her that Judy missed her a lot came to the tip of his tongue, but the next moment, Rick only murmured, “Thank ya.”

She gave another half bob of her head, running her eyes away from him. A couple of times Rick had even heard Judy call her ‘mama’, something they had both acted like it didn’t happen. Rick knew it wasn’t anything distinctive. Babies would call everything mama in Judy’s months. She’d already called Carol a few times like that, too, but with Amanda, it just felt different.

Amanda turned her look to the vehicles. “A’right…The question. Who drives Lamborghini?”

Ah. Rick gave her an amused look. “Do you want to?”

She shrugged in a disinterested way, but it was a bad play. There was a definite spark of interest in her eyes, her greens glinting. Amanda liked driving. It was something Rick had noticed before. She had told him a couple of times it was always her who drove their cruiser, Lamson giving her the wheels, like Rick used to drive their own. Shane and Rick had been the same rank, but Lamson was her senior, so Rick guessed it’d been an arrangement they’d decided on.

Rick threw her the key. “I take the van. You drive the Lambo.”

She tried to keep her face neutral, but her lips twitch, the green eyes sparkling even brighter. Something seizing in his chest again for different reasons, aching, Rick had to refrain himself to take her in his arms and kiss her deeply until she yielded and stopped whatever this was between them and came back to him. I want her back. God, Rick so wanted her back, sometimes holding on to his self-control felt like a fight he didn’t want to win. No defeat would have been sweeter.

Amanda turned off the sports car system and the driver side’s door started levitating vertically in the distinctive fashion, revealing the luxury interior. She dived into the leather seat and when the door closed down again, she looked as alluring as she had been in her little black cocktail dress inside the sports car. Her hair was up in her usual half ponytail, revealing her long graceful neck under her leather jacket, and his necklace. Like always, the mere sight of it made him feel better, knowing that Amanda still hadn’t taken it off.

The beast of a car came alive with a roaring sound, almost reverberating the grounds beneath them as Amanda dipping her neck slightly, gazing ahead over the windshield turned on the motor. The next second, it lunged forward more than moved then stopped suddenly with another deep grumble. Her lips broke into a full smile as the momentum of the sudden move threw her back in her seat.

Rick smiled at her too as her eyes slanted up toward him. “It’s fast—” she mouthed from inside the car, and Rick shook his head, walking to the van at the same time Jeff started sliding the main gate for them.

The old van made some deep gargoyles too, nothing fancy like Lamborghini, but Rick thought perhaps they were making a tactical mistake making so much noise this close to Alexandria, but Amanda had already passed through the gate in a blur.

Rick followed her quickly. The journey was quick too as the intersection was only a half-mile away from the town. Rick parked on the curb as Amanda stopped over the intersection that was closed up with their other vehicles and rolled down her window. “All right—” she called to him when Rick stopped beside the car. “Where do I park it?”

His eyes scanning over the blockade, Rick waved his hand over an old RV. “Over the RV. It’s the most vulnerable at the front side.” As it was also the biggest vehicle, and it was moved, there would be a big gap through it. Anyone who wanted to cross the blockade would try to move it first. Its back was covered at the corner so making a turn back was impossible without turning on its motor, and Glenn had disconnected the hose that would make it happen. They could get it operational in a few minutes if necessary, but without the equipment, it was as immobile as a Lamborghini without its smart key. When the sports car covered its front, their blockade would be fine for now.

Rick even thought of building a platform on the top of it to have the outer watches guarding the perimeters as Woodbury had done, but there was still time for that. Amanda parked the car like Rick instructed and stepped out.

There was a disappointing look over her face as she handed him back the keys, but it passed quickly as her expression turned neutral again. When they were back in the van and Rick started driving to Del Arno, their little moment inside the house and with the car had already passed as Amanda gazed ahead the road silently next to him, her face cool and guarded.

Rick hated it, as much as he hated the sideway glances she threw at him still facing ahead as Rick drove. The air between had become tense too, both of them not attempting to break it. Rick wondered how long she was going to keep it up, but this was her idea, her plan, so Rick simply waited.

She didn’t make the move. Rick stopped the car at the backroad that led to Del Arno and they left the car silently. As it was only two of them, not separated, Rick hadn’t taken any handheld radio, opting for the van’s built-in one.

They slung their backpacks taking them from the bed of the van and dived into the woods. Del Arno was like how they had left it two days ago. Amanda gazed through the fences scattering walkers in the compound, at their mutilated bodies, Ws carved out on their foreheads.

Rick slanted a look at her as she shook her head. “I still don’t understand why anyone would do this…” she muttered.

His gaze moved over to the maimed body parts, the message they carried. “They terrorize their grounds to make themselves known—” Rick replied simply. “If they only kill, we wouldn’t have talked about them now.”

The look Amanda gave him spoke in volumes as she turned to him. “Fear is a very powerful agent.” Rick gave her an opening, looking straight back into her eyes, and waited for her to take his bait.

She returned her look, too, openly regarding him, but only stated, “I want to check the northeast.”

Rick nodded, wondering if she didn’t want to start something she couldn’t finish again. Amanda’s basic instinct was always to avoid conflict as much as possible, not get into fights she knew she couldn’t win, but they were here. She had brought him here.

His temper getting flared up, Rick tried to suppress it down, just waiting for her to gather enough guts to start the talk. They traipsed the woods through north, wary and alert on Aiden’s former warning that they didn’t cross these parts because of the quarry camp that had turned at the beginning of the outbreak.

Amanda walked beside him silently, both of them not talking, only listening to the sounds of the woods. Her eyes, though, kept spying on him now and then, as if she wanted to, but just didn’t how to do it, hesitant. Then another thought occurred to Rick, too, that Amanda might be very well hesitant of the answer she would receive, didn’t want to ask him.

Because she believed Rick had done it on purpose. Had brought the bastard down in the sewer knowingly, planning it then tried to assassinate him using the walkers. And, she didn’t want to ask, because she didn’t want to know.

Trying to make his way through a shrubbery hedge at a ridge, Rick leaped ahead and turned to her at the other side, blocking her way. Not to drive on him bodily, she staggered back, and her head snapping up, she looked at him startled, her eyes widening.

“Stop this—” Rick cut her off with a low growl and grunted out. “If you want to ask me something, ask it—”

“Rick—”

“But stop giving me those looks!” he finished with a snap.

Her eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “What are you talking about?”

They were still talking in whispers, his heated, angry, hers edgy, having a slight of confusion. Rick didn’t buy it. “You know what I’m talking about!” he grated, taking a step closer to her. They were now inches away from each other. “If you want to say something, say it, but don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a savage beast—” The words left his mouth on their own as he leaned over her further, his gaze boring through hers. “And you’re worried if I’d start a killing spree at any moment.”

She swallowed. “D-did you plan it?” she asked in a small voice.

No!

“But did you—did you mean it?” she asked in even a smaller voice. “When you threw the dead at him?”

Rick shook his head, unapologetic as ever. “I didn’t plan it, but it wasn’t an accident. I know he was there, but the walker was coming at me, and I didn’t care.”

Her frown grew deeper, furrowing the bridge of her eyebrows. “You could’ve thrown it at the other side.”

“Then I could’ve thrown it at Aaron,” he snapped. “Between Aaron and that sonofabitch, you know what my choice always would be.”

He pushed the shrubbery then after that and started walking ahead again. “He’s gonna hate you more for this—” Amanda uttered after his back, following him, her voice curt.

Rick shrugged. “I don’t care. You just should’ve let it go—” he encountered with the same sternness. “Let the walker do it.”

“What?!” she almost cried out, halting in her steps. Mimicking her, Rick stopped too and turned to her before they made a yard away.

“You heard me—” Rick repeated firmly. “You didn’t need to stop it.”

She shook her head. “Rick, do you hear yourself talking?” she replied, her eyes widening. “We’re trying to live with these people!”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do!” she retorted heatedly, lunging at him, and her hand hit his chest briefly. “Half of the town think you tried to kill Pete Anderson and the other half think that you try to control them using fear—” She jerked her head at the west, toward Del Arno.

Rick stayed silent, knowing what she’d said was also true. Rick didn’t care, but he wasn’t deaf to the talks. He even had heard people started calling him an agitator behind his back. “I only do what I have to do to keep you safe.”

She shook her head, glaring at him sternly. “Don’t turn us into an excuse to justify your every behavior, Rick.”

“That’s not an excuse!” Rick replied, his anger flaring again remembering that discussion they had had before, walking back closer to her. “Pete Anderson is bad news.”

“Christ, you told me to stay away from him just yesterday!”

“And you didn’t listen to me, Amanda—” he snapped. “You just poked the bear.”

Her eyes widened as she cried out. “So it’s my fault now? Are you pinning the blame on me again?”

“I didn’t say that!” he shouted. “For God’s sake! Why do you always have to put words into my mouth!”

She stared at him, breathing hard, her chest moving heavily, their surroundings silencing again after their shouting match. Bowing his head, Rick pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. Everything was wrong. He didn’t want to fight with her. He didn’t want them to be like this, turning every single discussion into a shouting match. They weren’t like this. This wasn’t them. Under his bowed head, his eyes jerking up, Rick spied her necklace. This is us.

He let out a loaded, weary sigh, lifting his head. He didn’t know what to say, but he knew he had to. He had to do something. He couldn’t let this happen, either, he couldn’t. He opened his mouth, but just that moment he heard it.

Amanda’s head snapped too at the same moment, so Rick knew he wasn’t the only one. “What’s that?”

It wasn't a snatch of twig or footstep over the forage, nor wind among the branches. No. It was coming from far, but Rick had already heard it countless times by that time not to recognize it. As if Amanda did too after her initial remark, she turned to him, then snarls and growled started rising.

At the same time, they unclicked their holsters and draw their guns. They turned theirs back to each other, getting to close formation without any word spoken, and surveyed their surroundings. The aroused sounds of walkers were coming louder in distance.

They had possibly roused up some dead with their shouting match, close to the quarry, their voices carrying over the mountain range in echo. Rick cursed inside. “You, clear?” he asked her, skipping a look.

She jerked her head once. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.” He slanted her another look. “I think it’s coming from East. We move?”

She nodded again. “Yeah. Take the lead.”

With that, Rick turned and started easing forward, pushing through the woodland, Amanda covering his back. Falling back into their cop mode came easily, almost an instinct, their fight pushed in the back of their minds as they covered a few yards, following the walkers’ sounds warily until Rick wedged another shrubbery hedge and they arrived at an edge of a cliff.

The snarls and growls were like a squeaking pitching song in a foreign old language as it echoed through the mountainsides. Below down the cliff, inside the quarry’s bowel, perhaps a thousand of the dead, the biggest herd they had ever seen made their song without a care in the world.

Notes:

So, we finally found the herd in the quarry too, so all the big plotlines from Season 6 are online! The rest of the chapters are gonna be a real rollercoaster... Amanda is getting more suspicious of Rick and what's happening with Pete Anderson and him, and Rick is getting cornered. The secret is gonna be out soon! Yup.

AND finally, Deanna upgraded Amanda's status. She's officially a FP-W now! Not that she knows it yet, but it finally happened. I waited for this for a long time, too...hehe. She deserved it.

Oh my god, I was dying to get Amanda inside the Lambo! And did it, too! Yay! This isn't the last time we see the Lambo, too. Hehe. Couldn't help myself! It's gonna be back. But who's gonna drive it...Rick or Amanda...? It's a surprise :)

Hope to see you soon, and please don't hesitate/forget to tell me what you think. (Okay, I'm gonna bite the bullet here and call out to all the other people who used to be reading and commenting but have stopped in time. If you are still there reading, I would really be glad to hear from you again! I need all the motivation these days, lol.)
Have a nice day. Ciaociao.

Chapter 36: 'I didn't come for sex, Rick'

Summary:

After finding a massive herd in the quarry, things become harder as they try to decide how to deal with the herd. On the top of it, Rick has got more trouble with being a single dad while Judith cuts teeth.

Notes:

All right! I DID NOT! Lol! Me and my promises...I couldn't even sit down and write down a word, because the last weekend was my birthday, and I was away for a little holiday! Hehe.
So I had a good excuse! But in the meanwhile, a very kind guest reviewer and I exchanged tons of comments, and story ideas are on the loose in my mind now, so I need to focus myself for writing again. Hehe. That means, another update circle, guys! This arc is in three parts, so I might add the other two chapters before the weekend, before I turn to writing again, but all in honesty, I'm not very sure. The chapter ends with a cliffhanger, and I might leave it at there, too, being an evil author, hehe :)
We will see. But for now, enjoy!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“I fucking can’t believe it—” Aiden whispered, staring below the quarry’s bowel with his bino, his voice thick with disbelief, a sentiment Amanda shared wholeheartedly.

The screeching, nerve-wracking, shrilling song was loud in her ears, echoing over the stone cliffs under the sunset. She couldn’t fucking believe it, either, but the monsters under your bed didn’t go away because you closed your eyes and wished them to disappear.

Hundreds of the dead! There must be at least one thousand rotters down in the bowel trapped. She didn’t know what to feel, except the disbelief and astonishment, and fear that ran through her, but the scene in front of them was a fact. There was another fact too, a reality that made shudder her as she surveyed the grounds. The blockade the people had done before they escaped was barely holding up.

Raising her binocular, Amanda tipped down her head toward the south side of the cliff and checked trucks that were blocking the southern exit. The setting sun had turned the vast canvas above them to a mix of dark purple and orange, an ambiance that made what laid ahead of them even more so from Twilight Zone. 

But still, what was ahead of them was clear, mind-blowingly, horribly clear. The trucks were so close to the cliff, so dangerously close. Through her bino, she could even see rotters trying to slip through the vehicles, pushing and pushing…

After they had discovered the trapped herd, they quickly had returned to the van and called in Alexandria for Aiden and Daryl to come up and see this.

Aiden had come with Jeff, Daryl tagged along, and they were slowly catching up to the direness of the situation. A direness that had pushed even their discussion to the back of her mind. They were at each other’s throats again. Everything was spiraling out of control like it usually did. Amanda wanted to think, but the herd below was very distracting.

She slanted a look aside and saw Rick was still in the same haggard way; his jaw set up, his darkened eyes hard and curt as he gazed below. He had become so furious with her again before they discovered the herd, and Amanda suspected the feeling was still simmering beneath him despite his cold facade.

Briefly, she wondered if this was how he’d become…distant from his wife like Carol had told her because the woman had had the same qualms that Amanda began to have, too. Stop looking at me like that! Like I’m a savage beast!

His words echoed together with the screeching snarl song in her mind before Aiden asked, “What are we going to do?”

Amanda wanted to say they were going to deal with them, but the words just didn’t leave her mouth. She didn’t know how they could manage it, killing a thousand walkers… But what else they would do? She didn’t know about that, either.

Rick was silent like her beside them, still gazing below sternly, then motioned the blockade at the south side of the cliff. “Those trucks are barely holding up,” he observed instead of answering Aiden. “When they fall, the way is open.” He paused, his gaze cutting over to them. “And the south exit directly leads toward us.”

 He shook his head before his eyes lingered on hers for a second longer. “We’ve wondered before why the town and its surrounding area are so silent, now we know the answer.” He jerked his head at the bowel. “This’s the reason.”

Aiden gave him a squinted look. “What do you mean?”

“Walkers herd up. The more they make a noise, they draw each other. They fell over the cliffs wandering in the woods, drawn to the sounds, then became trapped down.” His look turned sterner. “That’s why you’ve had it easy. You’ve been lucky.”

 Amanda rechecked the southern exit, surveying the ripping apart trucks again. “Rick’s right—” she said. “We can’t take the risk. The blockade might fall anytime.”

Rick nodded, glancing at her. “Luck runs out.”

They shared another glance as Aiden bobbed his head. “Let’s turn back and discuss this…in detail.” He halted, letting out a sigh. “These snarls and growls give me creeps.”

Amanda jerked her head in response. “No. We have to secure the exit first. Those trucks are so close to the edge. If they’re down, we’re doomed.”

“Yeah, she’s right—” Rick agreed with her like she had done, too. “Though, it’s not an if, but a when.”

She swallowed down a scoff. “I’m okay with dealing with ‘if’ right now,” she shot back, starting to move. “We think about ‘when’ later.”

“Can we make a wall?” Daryl suddenly asked as they all turned to him. The hunter pointed toward the trucks and the exit. “’tis a quarry, right? We can find stones. We brin’ up plates too. Build a wall.”

Amanda could see his point, but she still didn’t like the idea of having a thousand or so walkers up there in a few miles away from them. It was too risky. They needed to kill these bastards. Even though she still had no idea how.

How did you kill a thousand rotters?

Even trapped, it was a hell of a job. They didn’t have enough ammo, and they certainly didn’t have any bombs or rocket launchers. Alexandria had a few grenades, she’d even seen a couple of dynamites in a crate in the armory, but even using them would be fatal. For one thing, they would harm the peculiar blockade and arouse the dead further inside their trap, especially when a few explosives wouldn’t make much difference. Even the napalm bombs didn’t make a difference in Atlanta, only had turned things worse.

They needed to find another way.

There had to be a way. There was always a way.

They had burned the butchered dead in Shirewilt before leaving the town, using the vehicles’ gas. Burning the dead would work…, at least slow down them, but that was the problem. They didn’t have enough gas to do that, and she still remembered how the others were pissed at her when she used the last of their fuel. She wasn’t even sure Deanna would let her do it, even though it might work.

“Yeah—” Rick agreed with Daryl. “We come back in the morning and see what we can do.” He paused, turning to Aiden before he checked the sky. “We park the RV over there in any case for tonight.”

At that moment, Amanda understood Rick had thought of securing the exit before as he asked Aiden to come with the RV instead of any other vehicle. Using both of their RVs at the blockades bothered Amanda, they needed those vehicles for runs, but right now they had other problems.

 When they returned to the vehicles at the backroad, the sky was completely dark. Amanda felt like they were stirring up a hornet’s nest as they slowly eased down toward the quarry main entrance, exploring an unknown terrain in the dark without even proper scouting first. It was one of those things Amanda would advise her trainees no to do, but sometimes you just didn’t have a choice.

What if they returned and one of those trucks fell or moved over the cliff and the rotters came to Alexandria? How could she live with herself after that? Knowing that the Wolves were loose in the woods was as hard as it was, but also this?

Amanda straightened up in the passenger seat as soon as the thought came to her, and turned to Rick who drove with that stern expression and hard look toward the quarry. “Do you think it might be a thing of the Wolves?” she asked. “You know, a trap like in Del Arno?”

When to come to think, it really looked like a trap. And what were they doing? Springing it?

God, were they doing it? Falling into their traps again, like flies getting caught in a spider’s web? But Rick shook his head, moving his gaze from the road to slant a look at her. “No—” he replied stiffly. “This’s not just two trucks full of walkers. We talk about a thousand of them. They can’t do it. No one can do it.”

Her eyebrows knitted a bit. “So what?” she asked back. “It’s just dumb luck?”

He shrugged, his gaze returning to the road. “I don’t know—” Amanda sensed an indifference in his tone. “But either way it makes no difference. They’re here now. We gotta deal with them.”

 Amanda leaned against her seat again, admitting it. “Yeah.”

Then Rick said, his voice slow but still firm, his eyes trained ahead, “Perhaps we just should let ‘em free…”

She jerked up back. “What?!”

“You heard me—” he replied with the same firmness. “The wolves still are in the woods. If we let a part of the herd go, they will have a hell of a lot of problems.”

We will have a hell of a lot of problems, too!” Amanda retorted, stressing the ‘we’.

“We manage—” he said as they passed through an open fenced checkpoint, no hindrance on the way as Amanda observed there were truly no obstacles that would slow the dead out of the quarry if the blockade fell. “We’ve got walls, they don’t.”

Amanda sighed, resting herself back on her seat again, shaking her head. “You know what… I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say this.”

“Yeah, you do that—” he replied sotto voce, a low derisive scoff underlining his tone.

She closed her eyes, trying to keep herself calm. It was the worst, the worst time for this! She didn’t want to start another fight with him. Rick left the van without a word or look at her, jumping down from the driver's side as Aiden parked the RV beside them.

All three men exited as Amanda stepped out too. She walked around the van and joined them in front of the vehicles. “We check the compound first, then move the RV toward the quarry further.”

They nodded. Rick turned to Daryl. “You’ve got a separate radio?” he asked the hunter.

Daryl showed him the handheld radio at his waistline under his jacket. Rick jerked his head quickly for a brief nod. “A’right. We make a quick sweep and return here in twenty.”

They quickly parted in three directions, each group covering their section. Amanda fell beside Rick. There wasn’t even a discussion now about who was going with whom. No one ever made a word. Herself, included.

Amanda really didn’t know what to think anymore, so she just followed him in the dark. They advanced further in the camp alert and wary, passing over ten or so trailers that were lined up at the bottom of the southern cliff. She suspected the place used to be the office area of the white workers in the site as she could see the broken and scattered office furniture and computers on the floor through the smashed windows.

Craning her neck up, Amanda studied the mountain range. She tried to spot their vantage point above the heights that they had descended from, rows and rows of stone teeth piercing toward the sky. The screeching snarls and growls didn’t sound as terrible as it was up above there, but the low pitching tones were a lot more vicious in the dark, more malicious.

A tremor passed over her as they stopped in front of the mountain’s mouth.

Rick turned to her. “Ya okay?”

“Yeah—” Amanda nodded quickly, whispering, “Just this…song. It—”

She stopped as Rick suddenly lunged forward…on her. “Rick, wh—”

A rotting hand grabbed her half-up ponytail. She let out a low gasp, dipping her head to escape as she drew back, her eyes rolled upwards saw the dead attacking at her through the broken office window. She twisted aside from the clawing arm, but before she did it, Rick’s ax cut the arm off.

Amanda jumped a step back as Rick wedged the rotter’s head in two, more pouring out inside the office space, aroused by the living. She counted more than a dozen at the first glance.

Rick clutched her hand quickly, and they started running back. “Daryl—Aiden! Call in sequence!” he rasped over the handheld radio Aiden had brought for them.

“We met with the dead—” Aiden answered a second later. “We’re retreating.”

“I’m okay—” Daryl called in the next. “Do ya need help, Aiden?”

Amanda threw a look over her shoulder. The dead were still following, but they would outrun them. “No. We’re good.”

“Everyone, fall back to the vehicles—” Rick ordered. “We’re moving out. We’re coming too. We can’t do this now.” A shot echoed in the air, a shrill above all the others.

Amanda cursed lowly. “Don’t use guns!” Rick barked at the radio again.  “This place is swarmed with walkers!”

Hearing the gunshot made the docile dead aroused further in their deadly sleep and joined to the rest of their flock. With a glance back, Amanda saw their number toppling over more than two dozen now, more coming up from every direction.

“Fuck!” she grunted out as Rick spun around himself before he pushed her toward the trailers.

“Up!” He rasped out, an order so rough and coarse, as he directed her over the ladder at the back of the trailer they stopped beside. Amanda started climbing hurriedly, checking to make sure he followed too.

The last thing she needed right now was Rick becoming a heroic idiot, trying to save her. Thank god for all things sacred and good, Rick followed her on the roof, too. Below them the road started turning to a sea of rotters as they ran over the top of the trailers fast, jumping from one to another. Their heels made louder sounds as they beat the steel construction and hard plastic material under their boots. Ahead of them, Amanda saw the vehicles as they left them.

Aiden and Jeff stood in front of the RV as Daryl stopped beside the vehicle, holding his crossbow high over his shoulder, trained.

Amanda realized they were waiting for them, to cover for their back, and the thought made her…feel nice. For Daryl, it was as normal as breathing, but Aiden and Jeff holding up their back meant something. Amanda hoped Rick could see it, too.

It wasn’t a thought she could dwell on much, but, as they were running on the top of the last trailers and they would need to get down. Amanda scanned the road ahead of them, half packed with the rotters.

They were going to jump as far as they could manage and then run for it. She swept a look at Rick as he tightened his fingers around hers more. Right that moment, Amanda realized they’d been running on the trailers’ roofs hand to hand since Rick joined her and took her hand back.

It was one of the things Amanda didn’t know what to do with, either, as she also realized that his hand gave her strength and made her feel much better. They stopped at the edge of the last trailer, swaying a little. Rick didn’t lose her hand, and Amanda didn’t pull it back, either.

The dead gathering ahead of them, more than two dozen already down behind them, they turned to each other and sharing a quick look, Rick made them draw a few steps back, still hand to hand, before they made a giant leap in the air.

The momentum and gravity broke their contact. Amanda quickly balled her body before the touchdown and rolled herself over the hard concrete ground, pulling up in a crouch without a break. She spied a look to see Rick was back on his feet almost as quick as her, too, already stabbing a rotter beside him with his ax. A bolt whistled just by her ear as Daryl killed the dead beside her before Amanda could make a move.

Both Aiden and Jeffrey waited, not willing to risk them in the crossfire. Amanda felt at least she’d managed to teach some sense into her team. The thought almost made her halt, despite the dead around her. Her team?

Rick grabbed her hand again, dragging her away. “C’mon, run!”

Amanda didn’t need the second reminder. She quickened her pace and followed him, pushing the thought away from her mind as all three men jumped inside the RV. Amanda launched at the passenger side’s handle, their contact breaking up once more as Rick ran over to the driver's seat.

In a few seconds, they followed the RV, running over a few rotters. “Ya okay?” Rick asked her, his look dividing between her and the road. His gaze was still frantic as Amanda realized he was still afraid. “He didn’t scratch you, did he?” he asked breathlessly, his right arm half-raised toward her.

Amanda shook her head quickly. “No. Just grabbed my ponytail—” she said, shaking her hair a bit to demonstrate it. “Couldn’t reach further.”

He nodded, slowly calming down, then shook his head too. Amanda knew he was angry again, but for what she couldn’t be sure. With how things were, like he’d said before, or with himself because he’d brought her here in the dark without knowing what to expect. Amanda guessed, knowing Rick Grimes, both at the same time.

Amanda felt tired. She feared they made things worse, arousing the docile dead from their sleep with their…poking. What if they moved and forced the trucks from at the other side, hearing that bloody snarls and growls inside the bowel. That would be disastrous.

She turned to Rick, getting more afraid and alert. “Do you think we made it worse, Rick?” she asked lowly.

His strained jaw almost throbbed before he answered. “I don’t know—” he rasped. “But it happened. Don’t think about it now. We’ll deal with it.”

“We need to double up the watches tonight,” she replied.

He gave her a nod. “Yeah.”

If the blockage truly fell tonight, they couldn’t risk being caught unawares. “What’re we going to tell townspeople?”

His look turned to her again, but this time it held no softness. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion as he regarded her quickly. “What do you mean?”

Amanda stared ahead the dark road for a while before she answered, “I thought perhaps we shouldn’t tell everyone what happened tonight.”

“Amanda, are you fucking serious?!” his voice almost hollered inside the van.

She turned to him on her seat again as the car sped up. “Look, everything has come down on altogether. The courses, the Wolves, what happened in the sewers…” she trailed off as his expression turned even stiffer, if possible. “They need a break.”

He threw at her a nasty look as she realized what she just had told him. “We just saw a thousand walkers all trapped a few miles away from us,” he clipped. “Do you really want to close your eyes and ignore them?” He let out a derisive scoff. “And here I was thinking you don’t want to look the other way anymore.”

Amanda couldn’t help herself. Her hand raising, she shoved him at his shoulder. Hard. “You’re an asshole, Rick!”

“I’m being realistic!” he shot back, driving faster. “They need to wake up, not a break to chill down.” Amanda recognized his words. Things won’t get better because you want them to.

Amanda didn’t reply this time, just stared ahead, and Rick drove the rest of the way in silence. She wished she would've closed her eyes and…looked the other way, but she knew Rick still had a point. God, she really hated him…being always right even when he was wrong.

When they arrived, Deanna was already waiting for them at the gate. Rick greeted her with the tip of his head as Amanda stepped out of the car. “Aiden,” he called out immediately. “Double up the watches. No one sleeps tonight.”

Aiden nodded, gravely, pointing to Jeff and Spencer who was at the gate duty with Dylan, the young man Amanda had seen making doe eyes at Beth before leading them away.

Deanna turned to them. “What happened?”

“Let’s go to the house—” Rick only replied. “We need to talk.”

# # #

Rick decided he didn’t fucking know anymore what passed in Amanda Shepherd’s mind.

The Wolves were out there, the dead were out there, and they weren’t going to go away just because they wanted things to get better. Rick thought Amanda knew it better than anyone, knew looking the other way didn’t make things better.

It certainly didn’t do any good to them. It didn’t do any good with Shane. It didn’t do any good with Governor, and it possibly made things worse with Pete Anderson.

Rick still didn’t care. The asshole was the last thing Rick cared about right now. Tonight was the last stroke. Rick wasn’t going to look the other way anymore. Amanda had declared she’d stopped doing that, too, but it appeared she still could make an exception for him, ignoring how their hands found each other on their own when they were circled with the dead, how they didn’t let go each other while they ran together. That was what they should talk about, not damn Pete Anderson or what had happened in the sewers. But not tonight.

Aiden had already started doubling the watches, but Rick knew there would be no sleep for them tonight. It made Rick shudder to think those walkers getting inside the walls while they were dawdling with book clubs and poker nights like fools.

The thought was enough to flare up his anger again, the mere prospect of getting caught unawares like that, fucking up again. No. Rick couldn’t screw up anymore. He’d promised. He’d promised himself it was the last time.

Never again.

Deanna moved them to her living room with her husband as they both settled on the couch. Amanda was still stiff, her face expressionless as she waited for Deanna. The old woman moved over the armchair. “I know you’re tired—” she started quickly. “But what happened? Daryl and Aiden left so quickly we couldn’t understand anything.”

Rick gave her a brief nod. He’d asked both of them ASAP. He’d realized they needed to secure the trucks and they needed more manpower for that as he didn’t want to risk Amanda. In the end, it wasn’t enough, not even close, but if they had gone there alone, perhaps it would’ve been even worse.

Endangering Amanda that way still made his chest constringe, wanting him to throw his head back and howl with fury, the fear he felt when he saw the hand suddenly grabbed her—making him stop breathing until he cut it off. Rick had wanted to crush her into his chest after that, kept her there until he made sure she was okay, then kissed her until there was no breath left in his lungs but there was no time, no time to do anything but hold her hand and run.

“We were making a patrol at the north with Amanda—” Rick started, looking at Deanna, and quickly summarized how they had discovered the trapped quarry.

“They’re all down there?” Deanna asked with astonishment.

Rick nodded again. “Yeah. Trapped inside. I guess workers did it before they escaped. Sort of saved y’all before you started rising the wall.”

They had been so lucky, so lucky. Deanna stayed silent for a second, as if she was thinking on it before she questioned, “What are we going to do now?”

“We’ll go back in the morning and will secure the exits—” Rick explained to her. “We need to make sure the trucks stay where they are before we start to consider what we shall do.”

“Can’t we just leave them there?” Deanna asked, giving him a look. “I don’t see what else we could do with them…”

There were a lot of things one could do with walkers, even though Amanda refused to accept it or Deanna couldn’t see it at the moment. Governor had used them to attack the prison, and then they had used the dead in the tombs against him in retaliation. If they somehow let them out and herded them up away from them… His thoughts spun around like in the car before he was interrupted by Deanna.

“Rick?”

Rick jerked his head. “No. It’s too risky even if we secure the perimeters,” he answered stiffly. “They will continue to herd up. We can’t leave them like that. If they keep up that, sooner or later they will break free and find us. We gotta deal with them. But we can’t kill all of them singlehandedly. We don’t have enough firearms nor enough manpower.”

“We’ve got some explosives in the armory,” Reg supplied in, “Can’t we use them?”

“No," Rick refused. "The blast would create more problems, drawing more walkers and bombs don’t kill them. The corpses get ripped off but still stay animated.”

“We can put them on fire—” Amanda suddenly said, perking up beside him. “Even that wouldn’t kill them truly but would certainly incapacitate them significantly.”

Rick this time wanted to sigh. “And how we do it?” He almost snapped, turning to her. “Pick up wood and build up a fire? We jump in the bowel and make a bonfire?”

She glowered at him, her jaw setting up. “We can use fuel—”

Rick jerked his head again, but Deanna cut him off, even before Rick made a word. “No. We’ve got so little gas as it is. We already lost half of it because of deterioration.”

It was what Rick had thought, and despite Amanda’s jaw clenched further, Rick knew she had known it, too, but still wanted to try her chances. Amanda didn’t give up easily. Rick feared they were going to clash because of this again, because after Deanna stopped, Rick looked at the woman before he declared, “I’ve got an idea.”

“Rick—” Amanda started, her voice nothing but a rasping hiss, but Rick continued, not heeding it.

“There are too many walkers inside the bowel—” Rick explained, sorting out his thoughts as he spoke. “They make things worse, drawing each other. We need to…blow off the steam, so to speak.”

“What do you mean?”

“When there is no one around, the walkers turn docile. Now they create too much pressure on the blockade because the bowel is already filled up, and more continue to come. It’s like a crush. The more come up, the walkers at the margins get pushed forward to make room, creating a stampede. If we create a flux to move a line out, they might stop pushing forward and turn docile again.”

“You want to let them go?” Deanna asked with more astonishment as Amanda just stared ahead.

Rick only gave a quick nod. “Not all of them. Just enough to give them some room. We secure the rest of the blockade with our steel plates and stones from the quarry and move the freed ones away.”

“How?” Amanda asked then just like Rick had done, turning to him. “How do you do it, Rick? They’re not sheep!”

“They are!” Rick objected, turning to her too. “They’re exactly like sheep, following their sheepdog. We create a safe corridor and herd them away.”

“In the woods!” Amanda shot back, her voice rising. “You want to let walkers into the woods!”

“The Wolves are in the woods, we know it. Let the walkers deal with them.”

She shook her head agitatedly. “There might be other people, too, like how we were—” she replied heatedly. “Are we going to send rotters upon them as a welcoming gift?!”

“They would need to deal with it just how we did!”

Her eyes now were like a green tempest as she glared at him. “You—”

“Please—” Deanna cut in between them. “I understand you’re tired and have had a long day. We sleep on it tonight and talk about it tomorrow.”

Rick quickly stood up. Another discussion was really the last night he wanted right now, and he needed to check the perimeters and talked to Aiden. “Call in another meeting for tomorrow morning—” Rick told the old politician. “The townspeople need to know.”

Deanna was silent for a couple of seconds before she finally nodded. “Yeah. I guess they do. I’ll set it up for nine o’clock. We meet here at eight first then make the announcement.”

With that, they left the Monroe residence. Outside the front garden, Rick saw Pete Anderson and Carter talking on the porch across them, looking at them. Turning stiffly, Rick marched down toward the gate.

Over their houses, Rick halted for a second. “I’m gonna make a tour and check the watches—” he told her, but Amanda already started to walk.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Spencer and Dylan were still at the main gate, Daryl already joined up them above the platform. They only stopped to ask who was at the bell tower. When Rick heard Sasha was up, he instantly felt better. They saw Abraham on the first platform with another two from Heath’s team, nodding at them as they passed. His look was directed toward the northeast as it should be.

They checked the three watch platforms at each section and saw Aiden and Jeff on the last one. They climbed down from the ladder which the construction site still stood for the last touches. “We manned each platform with three people, and one of them will stay on foot always.”

Rick nodded. “The bell tower?”

“Sasha’s still got two hours. Then Francine will take up for the evening shift.” He made a pause. “I was thinking of writing one of you for the midnight shift.”

Rick gave the younger man a brief nod. “I take it, but no shifts in the morning. Your mother waits for us in eight. We’ll make the announcement then.”

“Ah. Got it. Okay.”   

“I can take a shift on the platforms too—” Amanda said, but Aiden shook his head. Which made Rick feel…better. He would prefer her to stay inside and rest if he could help it.

“No need. We’re already slotted for tonight. I’ll call for you if something comes up.”

Amanda nodded, albeit reluctantly, but didn’t press down. Her ire and anger fading, she looked…tired now. Rick felt the same too, so, they walked back to the houses silently, both of them not trying to break the silence. The sky was fully darkened, but Rick still knew there were at least four hours left before it was midnight. He wanted to check on Judith and Carl.

Amanda stopped a few steps behind him, and Rick understood she wasn’t coming with him. The notion disturbed him again, and he debated himself because of it at the same time.

You broke up—a little voice reminded him as Rick grimaced. “Good night,” Amanda murmured in front of their driveway, her eyes running away from him, dipping her head.

Trying to keep his expression neutral, Rick bobbed his head faintly. She spied on him a glance under her bowed head as if she wanted to say something but then started walking away.

“Amanda—” Rick called out behind her back. “I—”

“Rick, please—” Amanda stopped him, twisting toward him. “I—I can’t do this again tonight.”

Rick gave her another nod silently as Amanda turned around and walked into her own house. Rick didn’t move at first, just watched her retreating until she vanished through the screen door.

As soon as he stepped on the porch, Rick heard Judy’s cries. They were even worse inside the house, Rick noticed with a sigh, as he closed the door behind his back. He walked into the living room, where Carol and Carl tried to calm down Judy. Carl was making turns in the room, bouncing his baby sister as Carol tried to give her her teether.

Judith threw the rubber toy down, which made Carol sigh tiredly. Joan stood up from the couch and took it from the floor as Judith brought her fist into her mouth, drooling over Carl’s shoulder.

“Hi, dad—” Carl greeted him as Rick walked over to them.

Rick took Judy from him. “She’s still having a temper?” he asked, checking her forehead with his other hand. Her fever had been augmented a bit since the morning. He turned to Carol and Joan. “She’s got a fever. You gave her ibuprofen?”

Carol nodded. “Yeah. We just did. It’d soothe her down a bit, but she’s been like this since you left.”

Their body language told Rick they’d had a hard day as much as him. Rick looked at them, feeling gratuitous. “I take her upstairs and try to sleep her. You rest. I need to take a shift at midnight, but I’m free until then.”

Carol shook her head. “You need to rest too.” She tried to take Judith from him. “We take care of her.”

Rick shook his head. “No. It’s okay. We’re gonna sleep together.” He looked at his baby angel, his lips cracking up into a smile for the first time since the morning. “Don’t we, sweetheart? Do you wanna sleep with daddy, huh?”

Judy gave him a teary look, her lips trembling with her sob. “Dada.”

“Yeah, sweet girl. Let’s go up.”

 # # #

In the warm attic, Amanda threw off her holster, only realizing then that they both hadn’t gone to the armory to check out their guns. Even Aiden hadn’t mentioned it. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but she was damn tired to think.

She started unzipping her pants as Cinnamon jumped down behind her, but stopped in the middle of the act, catching herself. She was with her gun Glock because there were a thousand of the dead somewhere out there, and she was unzipping her pants to change into her pajamas. They were on the bed. She’d already washed and folded Rick’s boxer shorts and shirt, putting them into her drawer to return them when she gathered enough guts to do it, but her nude cotton bottom and long sleeve shirt were folded on her bed.

Her room was tidied up now, but Amanda couldn’t decide, wearing nightclothes suddenly seemed to her…she didn’t know, incautious? What if the dead broke free and somehow attacked them tonight and she tried to fight them in her pajamas. Would it be worse than fighting in her bra like when they tried to run away from the prison?

The memory would’ve made her laugh, but the only sound she managed to make out was a sigh. She knew she was being ridiculous. There was nothing different tonight from the last night, or the night before then. She didn’t have any qualms last night wearing her pajamas. Yet here she was, standing in front of them, gaping at them.

Just for tonight, she told herself, remembering all the times they’d sleep with their clothes in the woods, but pushed away that thought, too. It was just for tonight. Tomorrow…

God. What was going to happen tomorrow?

If Rick had his ways, they might stop sleeping in their nightclothes for a long, long time. Letting the rotters into the woods. It wasn’t the same thing knowing the dead out there. Rick talked like it was their only option, but Amanda still didn’t know. It still felt wrong. Maggie—

She stopped herself, walking to the window as Cinnamon stalked over to her pillow bed. Amanda looked outside, pivoting her body to see the woods, that damn shrill song was still echoing in her ears.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the lights turned on in the master bedroom at the next house, and a second later, she saw Rick’s figure over the window as he held Judith. She twisted herself to see better, and she wasn’t surprised to see Judith crying too.

Rick must have brought her up to calm her down, but by the look of things, it didn’t look it was working. With another sigh, Amanda turned and walked back to the bed. She sat on the bed, and the feeling was with her again. She felt so…lonely. There was a part of her that just wanted to go to them. Be with them. Be with Rick. Calm down Judith.

The conflict was as strong as ever in her as Amanda sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. Everything was a mess with her, but whenever it wasn’t? She wondered if her life could ever be plain and simple again, but she still knew everything had changed, she had changed after she’d been shot and woken up back in the prison. It had been so easy to accept it to Gorman in the woods, and sometimes Amanda really wondered what happened to that girl... The girl who had wanted to see how much she’d changed, wanted to try something different than what she’d always had.

Where had she lost her?

Amanda couldn’t find the answer, but sometimes it felt like that girl had died together with Maggie, much like how the old Beth had. As if sensing her bleak mood, Cinnamon came to her, slipping through her feet. Looking down at her kitten, Amanda slowly stood up and walked over to the window again. Her steps were so slow, so wary as she felt like she was on the prowl.

There he was, still, pacing in the room now, Judith over his left shoulder, his hand rubbing over the baby’s back as they circled the room together. Judith’s hand was in her mouth as she cried, and the sight broke her heart. Shaking her head, Amanda pulled back and went back to the bed, this time sitting down against the headboard.

There were no vulgar images in her, how desperately she held on to it as Rick fucked her like an animal. There was just this stark emptiness she’d been feeling since they broke up, the cold loneliness and unrest. Somehow it was even worse than the night Rick had gone to Beatrice’s house. She’d been angry then, hurt and angry, and scared—god, she could only see now how much, just because Rick had dinner with another woman.

The unrest was the same, though. Feeling it even more starkly, she pushed up back to her feet and started pacing the triangle room. It was stupid. She was being stupid. Maybe it was only because of the day. Having that fight first, then seeing all those rotters like that.

Yeah. It must be that. It’d been a long day, a very, very long day.

But something was still telling her deep down she needed to go and see Rick, finished what they had started today. She’d wanted to talk. Granted, they’d ended up fighting, but she’d taken him out to talk. She had chickened out in the end, couldn’t start it, but she had wanted it.

Deanna’s questioning, the sewers, everything.

She rose to her feet again, her head almost turning, and before she changed her mind, she gathered up Cinnamon and climbed out of the attic. She left the house without a word, not that everyone asked her. Amanda was like a…add-up resident in the house, and she felt it stronger than ever. They were still her people, but it wasn’t the people in C Block.

She quickly walked to the other house and felt the warmness she’d been missing as soon as she put a step inside. She quickly padded toward the staircase and called out before someone poked out from the living room. “It’s me, Amanda—”

 No one made a sound. Amanda halted on the steps briefly before she continued climbing upstairs. It felt like they’d already known she was here for Rick. She quickly crossed the narrow corridor and stood in front of the door.

Judith’s whinny sobs were still coming from the other side, as Amanda realized Rick still couldn’t soothe her down. It was okay. She was here. They could do it together now.

It brought her even further courage as she slowly cracked the door open. Rick swept around quickly toward the door and his eyes widened an inch seeing her.

Amanda walked inside and closed the door behind her.

# # #

For a second or so, Rick thought he started hallucinating again because Amanda couldn’t be here in his room. Just after she’d refused to talk to him half of an hour ago. Yet, she was, looking at him in front of the closed door, still not moving, Cinnamon curling around her legs. She had come. Once again, she’d come to him.

Still in his stupor, as Judith made a lunge toward her, seeing her too, Amanda finally started walking to him. Rick merely watched her. “She’s having a fever?” she asked quietly as Rick passed Judith to her rising arms, his baby girl jumping to her arms at the same time.

“Yeah—” Rick replied. “Carol gave her dose of ibuprofen, but it hasn’t passed down yet.”

“Let’s make her take a bath—” she suggested. “It’d calm her.”

Rick nodded. “Okay.”

It looked like she’d come for Judith, perhaps had seen them from the attic, but Rick didn’t mind. She was here. In his room again. That was all that mattered.

Together they padded to the bathroom and Rick adjusted the water enough tepid to relax Judith. Giving her Judith, Amanda gazed at the tiles as she rolled up her pants above her ankles, taking off her boots and socks. Being inside the bathroom was even harder, trying not to remember how they’d been together in the shower the last time, but thankfully Judith kept his mind away from that stuff.

Amanda climbed inside the shower’s base as Rick stood outside and handed her back Judith after taking off her clothes. He curled the showerhead around them. He tried to be careful not to wet Amanda as she kept Judy away from her body, but by the time they were finished, half of Amanda’s clothes had become wet. She was still in her white shirt, which had plastered on her chest, revealing her lace bra down to her perked nipples.

Rick averted his eyes quickly, not wanting a hard-on, and tried to press down the stir he felt in his groins. Securing Judith over her chest with her arm, completely wetting her shirt, Amanda waved her hand at him. “Towel.”

Rick quickly grabbed the big towel from the shelf and opened it up for her. Amanda walked into his open arms as Rick wrapped the towel around them, almost holding Amanda into his arms, too.

His head tipping, he gazed down at her as Amanda did the same for a second before she quickly moved away with Judith. Amanda sat on the bed, patting Judith dry as Rick walked to the closet to get new clothes for her. His hands halting, he pulled another drawer and took one of his shirts too.

She was wet down to her bra. She might want to change clothes. Rick handed her the clothes, Judith lounging in her arms more relaxed, her hand still in her mouth. “Where’s her teething toy?” she asked, lifting her eyes at him.

“She threw it away—” Rick said.

“The bunny?”

“No. It was the ring thing.”

She shook her head. “No. She likes the bunny more. Go find it. Carol was boiling her toys this morning to disinfect them.”

 Dutifully, Rick obeyed and saw that Amanda was right when he was in the kitchen. The bunny toy was in a large pot, cooling down with other toys in the fridge. Rick fished it out and went back to the room. Amanda had already changed Judy’s clothes and dry blowing her soft hair with the towel.

Suddenly the thought was with him, how good, how serene she looked with Judith, and Rick wanted it, wanted them like this. A part of him even wanted them to have a child together. The desire just appeared in him, and it felt someone punched him in his stomach.

Not only because they were still on a break, or Amanda couldn’t even have sex with him without a condom, but because despite Rick would never regret anything with her, would accept everything, he also knew they could never do it, not when things were like this. And the thought hurt him more than Rick thought it would be possible.

Amanda lifted her head to look at him. “Here it’s—the bunny—” Rick forced out thickly through a lump in his throat, handing out the toy to her. “Found it in the fridge.”

She smiled down at Judith, taking the toy from him. “See, Dada found your bunny—” she whispered.

Judith brought the bunny’s long ears into her mouth, her face soothing even further as Amanda smiled wider. Rick took the baby from her. “Your shirt is wet.” He tipped his head toward his long sleeve shirt.

Without a word, surprising him even more, Amanda took the spare top and went to the bathroom again. Rick went to the crib and put Judith inside. He was still half surprised that Amanda didn’t run away after Judith was calmed down.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Amanda stopped beside the crib as Rick stood there, then slowly walked to the window. Still feeling half baffled and startled, Rick followed her too. She flickered her eyes to him from outside as Rick leaned at the frame, watching her.

They stayed silently for a couple of minutes, only Judy making soft puffs behind them. Rick heaved deeply, bowing his head. “Amanda, what are you doing here?” he asked finally, lifting his head at her. “Why did you come?”

She turned to him from outside, and she looked…perplexed before she uttered quietly. “I truly don’t know.”

Rick nodded, then took her hand. He walked toward the bed, but she stopped suddenly, her expression turning stiff. “I didn’t come for sex, Rick.”

“I know,” Rick replied with a shake of the head. “I’m gonna lie down until midnight. I want to rest.” He paused before he suggested just like he’d done once. “Stay with me until then.”

She was silent again at first, then slowly nodded. “Okay. But no sex.”

Rick smiled at her faintly. “No sex. I promise.”

Letting off her hand, Rick took off his boots, sitting at the edge of the bed. Amanda’s feet were still bare, so she just slipped under the covers, their clothes still on. Rick joined her in the same way taking off his boots and eased down beside her. They didn’t move closer to each other, didn’t hold each other, only lie side by side in the bed. If anyone asked him what the hell Rick was doing, he couldn’t answer. He truly didn’t know, either. It was just a hunch, and he felt as tired as she looked like.

Judith peeked at them through the crib’s bars, gnawing her bunny, but her lips pursed down. “Dada and Mandy will stay here for a bit, sweetheart,” Rick told her, raising his head. “You stay there, okay?”

Judith made a soft whimper in return. “Dada…”

“Go and take her—” Amanda said, craning her neck up over him. “She’s gonna begin crying again.”

“If we keep doing it, she’s never gonna learn to stay in her crib.”

“But—”

“Amanda—” Rick twisted to her. “Why do you always have to oppose every single thing I say?”

It was a question Rick wondered, and the air between suddenly tensed again. They shared a look before Amanda dropped back on her pillow. “Fine. Let’s do it in your way.”

So they tried, but in ten minutes, Judith started crying loudly. Turning her head toward him, Amanda gave him another look, this time pointed and waiting as Judith kept crying. Drawing the covers back, Rick swung his legs with a deep grunt and padded toward the crib.

He took Judith up. “We really need to talk about this, honey.”

Amanda scooted to make room for them as Rick brought the baby back to the bed and moved the sofa at the foot of the bed to block the edge. He grabbed the pillows and filled them along with the space. Done with the makeshift guardrail, Rick climbed back into the bed and crawled between them.

Amanda slanted a look at him as he lay down again. They were still not holding each other, just lying in the bed. But before Rick could stop himself, gazing at the ceiling, his fingers found hers. He briefly brushed them over her fingertips, and his chest felt lighter when Amanda didn’t pull her hand away from his touch. He started playing with them before he grasped her hand fully and tugged her a bit closer.

She didn’t make a protest, slid toward him closer, but still kept those inches between them. “I don’t oppose everything you say, Rick—” she finally spoke as his thumb made slow slides over the top of her hand. “Sometimes I just can’t—accept.”

Rick turned his head toward her on the pillow and saw her eyes were closed. “I know,” Rick replied, recalling his words in the barn. “But I’m still trying, Amanda.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him, regarding him so close, so close, inches apart. “It’s insane—” she said. “Letting the rotters loose? What if we can’t control them?”

His hand stopped playing with hers, but Rick still answered calmly, firm but calm. “We can. We will. We don’t have any other choice. We’ll recruit people from the town. The ones that made the highest scores in your classes. They need to help us.” He paused before he repeated. “We can’t kill all of them, Amanda. We can’t.”

“So we let them off? Upon the people?”

“You did it with the Wolves—” Rick pointed out. “You broke free the walkers inside the trucks. How is it different from my plan?”

She gave him a cool look. “For one thing,” she shot back, her voice straining. “I did it to escape, to save us—”

“Jesus Christ, why do you think I want to do it?” he cut her off, craning his neck up to look at her. “For fun?!

She shook her head, closing her eyes for a split second. “You first threw a walker at Pete Anderson—”

This time his voice rose a hitch despite his best intentions as he cut in again. “I told you I didn’t plan it—”

“But you told me I should’ve let it finish him—” she encountered. “You want Pete Anderson dead, Rick. Don’t deny it.”

So Rick didn’t, didn’t deny it. “Yeah. I want him gone.”

“Why?” she asked with a cold serenity. “I still don’t understand. He’s a sonofabitch, yeah, but wanting him dead?”

There was that look again in her eyes, the same wariness and carefulness, caution. Beware of the monsters.

Rick was so tired of it, so tired of seeing that look inside of the eyes of the women he loved, but everything was better than seeing her like this. Carol was right. He couldn’t keep it from her. Amanda was far smarter than that, and she’d already gathered there was a missing piece in his narrative. Rick didn’t try to justify his decisions, didn’t try to excuse himself, but he was…he was still trying.

He didn’t want to kill Pete Anderson without a reason. The thought that Amanda would believe he might want to suddenly felt even worse than the alternative.

“He’s threatened me—” he finally confessed, straightening up.

“What?!”

“You heard me.” He left the bed, walking over to the window. “He threatens me.”

Rick looked outside. The night was still calm. From behind, he heard first the bed's soft cracking then soft footsteps. A few seconds later, Amanda joined him. Rick was still watching the darkened streets outside under the moonlight as Amanda watched him.

There was studious lit in her greens now, not only wariness and carefulness. “What on the earth Pete Anderson can threaten you with, Rick?”

The question almost brought a bitter laugh out of him. “He knows about Judith.”

“Judith?” she whispered out, this time her voice having a confusion. “What do you mean?”

Rick turned to her. “I’m not her father, Amanda,” he told her simply. “Judy isn’t mine. And the bastard knows it.”

In utter shock, Amanda gaped at him.

Notes:

SO! Finally Rick confessed!

Oh my god, I was building up them toward this talk since the begining of the Edge, and forcing Rick to accept it to Amanda, and finally it happened.
The next chapter they will really talk, and Amanda will learn a part of what had happened between Lori/Rick and Shane. Like I told before, Judith is really gonna play a pivotal part in their relatioship. Because even though Amanda is very attracted to Rick's wild side, the thing that ties them together isn't that, but Rick's kind part and being a good father for his children always there for her. In the next chapter we will even have a scene with Amanda and Judith finally being together alone, sleeping in the same bed! I really want their coming around together again have started with Judy, because kids, especially Judith means a lot for Amanda.

Hope to see you soon!

Chapter 37: 'I'll be waiting'

Summary:

As Rick comes clean about Judith and what happened with Pete Anderson, Amanda gets closer to the baby girl in a way she couldn't manage before. Clarice and Carl find out something that would make the whole group worry in the morning and turn to Amanda for help.

Notes:

All right, this chapter was the chapter I was planning for a looong time, Rick and Amanda's first talk about Judith, and Amanda's first moment with Judith... Hope you will enjoy it.
I'm having hard days right now, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to post the next chapter too, but in any case, it doesn't look like I'm returning to writing any time soon, so I don't know.
Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Amanda felt she was sucked into a void, her brain failing to comprehend the words, even though she’d heard Rick.

“What?” she echoed again, her voice seemed like coming from a distance, her eyes still on him. She couldn’t tear them off of him. There were little pieces in her mind that poked at her consciousness, little pieces of a puzzle Amanda had never dared to look up closely, always feared, but she still couldn’t concentrate on them. She just couldn’t.

Judith.

Her eyes finally moved away from him as if she was compelled, and looked at the baby girl sleeping on the bed with soft puffs. Her baby face was less strained in her sleep now, her cheeks still flushed with her fever, perspiration making her soft light baby hair pressed on her little forehead. Her left hand was closed up in a tiny fist, raised above her chin as if she still was trying to rub it over her sore gums even in sleep.

Amanda returned to Rick. “H-how?” she asked this time, although she wasn’t sure what she was exactly asking, how the surgeon knew it even when she didn’t know or how? How Rick wasn’t her father?

Rick must have taken it in the way how Pete Anderson had learned, because he said, “The blood test. Her blood type came as B. I’m A. Lori was O.”

Amanda knew enough of biology to know that it meant Rick couldn’t be biologically the father. She looked at him, trying to understand once more. His expression was so intense now, his jaw stiff. He didn’t look angry but strained. Something told Amanda he hadn’t known before, either, but she still asked. “D-did you know?”

Rick jerked his head in a curt, quick move, turning away from her to gaze out of the window again. “No. Not really. I asked Lori once. She said she was mine no matter what. I accepted it.”

The lost pieces of the puzzle poked at her again, falling into their places, and Amanda finally started getting it. Of course. Suddenly it was so obvious. Everything. So obvious what had happened between them, between him, his wife, and his partner that Amanda didn’t even need to ask, but she did anyway.

“Is she his?” she asked quietly, getting closer to him as her voice turned into a whisper. She didn’t want the baby girl to hear it. It was a silly thing perhaps, but Amanda still wanted to keep it secret, as much as Rick did.  “Your partner?”

Rick gave her a brief nod. “Yeah.”

More pieces followed, swirling now at the speed of light in her mind. “That night in the warehouse—” she breathed out, the mystery unraveling to her. “You went to check her blood.”

The way he had been that night, it all made sense now. She knew something had happened then, she knew it, she just couldn’t have imagined this in her wildest dreams… Rick, though, only gave her another brief nod. “Yeah.”

She didn’t know what to think. Judith wasn’t Rick’s. The thought still felt so foreign. It wasn’t about he couldn’t love her unconditionally even if they weren’t blood-related. No. The ties that bound them were stronger than blood, and Rick was capable of great love, it was in his nature. Yet, the thought still baffled her, and she couldn’t understand why.

She tried to focus on what she understood. She couldn’t do this right now. She’d been trying to understand what had happened, but this wasn’t what she’d expected. Not even close. “So…” she started again. “He threatened you.”

Another nod. “How?” Amanda asked further. “What exactly did he do?”

His face closed off completely, Amanda saw it from the window’s reflection as his back straightened in that rigid way. “He said if we don’t stay away from his family,” he rasped out in a dangerously low voice. “He’ll talk to Carl.”

Her heartbeat hastening, Amanda understood it was even worse than she’d thought first. “Carl doesn’t know.”

It was more a statement than a question, but the stern look Rick gave her, turning aside made her swallow. “No. He can never know!” he hissed. “Never!”

“Rick—”

She wasn’t going to oppose him, not this time, but somehow, he continued as if she had. “You didn’t want to tell Carol what happened with Lizzie, Amanda. You didn’t want to tarnish her memories. I can’t tarnish their memories like that, either. Lori loved her children more than anything in this life. They should never doubt that.”

Amanda touched his upper arm lightly. “Rick, I wasn’t going to say you should. I—I understand.”

Her acceptance finally soothed him down a bit as his shoulders relaxed, his face’s strain loosening an inch. “This’s my burden to carry,” he whispered, running his hand through his hair as he bowed his head. “My mess. I—I can’t let my children suffer through it.”

Something pierced her chest with the last word. The story was still incomplete, but Amanda didn’t care at the moment. She knew Rick had…his reasons to do what he had done. She trusted him for that.

But it didn’t answer why he hadn’t told her about it before. For all the times he’d berated her for keeping things from him, he’d been exactly doing the same. The subtle pang in her chest was there, too, as she felt hurt. He hadn’t wanted to share it with her, didn’t trust her enough, but she knew she shouldn’t be throwing stones when she herself lived in a glasshouse.

She almost asked him why he hadn’t told her anything, but his gaze finding hers again, Rick spoke before Amanda gathered enough courage to ask him.

“The only—the only reason that asshole’s still breathing is you,” he told her, voice firm and stern. “Because I know you don’t want any more death. But if he takes my children’s name into his mouth ever again, Amanda, I’ll do it.”

Don’t oppose me, Amanda completed inside what he left unsaid. Don’t try to stop me.

The hurt and bafflement in her were even worse than before as Amanda stared at him, not knowing what to say.

There was nothing more important to Rick than his children and their wellbeing, and all things considered, there was a part of her that even felt surprised that Rick had managed to control himself this long. His admission that he only did it for her made it even more complicated, even though he kept it secret from her, but killing someone because of that?

She would kill anyone who would try to hurt Carl or Judith without a blink, but they weren’t talking about physical harm here. On the other hand, the sonofabitch would harm them even in a worse way; some truths hurt worse than bullets, Amanda knew it better than anyone.

Yet, killing someone for that… it still didn’t sound right. Would it be okay for her code? She was still so confused, so baffled, she couldn’t find the answer, and it was something else she couldn’t do tonight, either. Not now, not things were like this.

“We let him be—” she remarked, looking at him. “Just like he says. We’ve got a lot on our plate like you say. He’s not our priority. I—I’ll stop pushing Jessie. I already made her an offer. If she wants to take it, I’ll help her.” She couldn’t refuse the woman if she asked for help, couldn’t look the other way, but she couldn’t do anything else. “But I won’t talk to her again.”

Rick nodded curtly. “Okay.”

“But you will stay away from him, too, Rick—” she warned sternly. “You won’t try to…take him to the sewers again.”

Another nod. “Okay.”

“Perhaps we talk to Deanna too?” Amanda asked lowly, but Rick objected, shaking his head, his eyes turning to sapphire.

“No. No one other than us can know.”

The heat in his refusal made it clear to Amanda it wasn’t an argument she would win. She sat on the edge of the bed foot before she asked openly. “Who does it know exactly?”

“Only Carol.”

She wondered if Rick had told the older woman or she’d known previously, the same hurt and resentment seeping into her again. She swallowed, trying to keep it under control. “The others?”

Rick sat beside her on the bed, linking his hands in the air between his knees. “Pretty sure Daryl and Glenn already guessed it like me, but I didn’t say it.”

“Rick, why didn’t you tell me?” the question suddenly left her before Amanda could stop herself, her emotions winning over her common sense. “Why did you keep it secret?”

The stark blue eyes found hers, but there was no frost in it as he looked at her. For a moment, Amanda thought he was going to call her on her shit, was going to tell her she was being a hypocrite, but turning his gaze away from her, Rick bowed his head and looked at the floor.

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to accept it…like if I say it aloud, I wouldn’t take it back…” He paused, flickering up his eyes to hers under his bowed head. “It’s my mess.”

“It’s not your mess, Rick.”

A silence stretched out between them as they stayed like that. Amanda knew there was still more to it. He hadn’t only kept her in the dark about Judith but also hid what happened with Pete Anderson until she had practically forced it out of him.

The question came to the tip of her tongue again, why he’d really tried to keep it secret, whatever had happened between them wouldn’t be only his mess. Rick always blamed himself for everything, take the responsibility for everything. Amanda loved him for that, but she also hated it. Don’t turn us an excuse to justify your every behavior, Rick.

Amanda swallowed hard, her throat so tight, recalling their fight in the quarry before they found the herd. The thoughts swirled in her together with Carol’s words about Lori and him, how they’d become estranged, and she wondered if that was what had happened between them, too. It’d been so easy to fall in love with Rick, but being with him?

It was a whole different story.

Judith made a little puff in sleep behind them, and Amanda twisted her neck to look over her shoulder. The little angel gave another soft puff, raising her tiny fist in the air. Her face was less flushed, and she looked so in peace.

A weight suddenly lifted off her chest, her breath coming out easier as a small smile broke over her lips. “Things can be…messy,” she spoke in a low voice, turning back to him. “But you’re a good father, Rick.”

Amanda could doubt his actions, his excuses, his reasons…but she never doubted that, never.

Their eyes found each other’s again, and his hand reached out to her. He gently cupped her face, his thumb slowly brushing over her cheek before he leaned down in on her.

Amanda drew back. “I—I still need time.”

Rick pulled back, his face closing off again, but bobbed his head slowly in acceptance.

If they kissed now and took it further, she feared they would relapse to the beginning and start covering their problems with sex. She didn’t want to do it anymore. She still didn’t know why she’d come tonight, but it wasn’t for sex. It didn’t work between them like that. They had to stop doing the same thing, waiting for new results.

“I shall go—” Rick announced lowly, standing up as Amanda whipped her head up at him.

“Rick, I wasn’t—"

He cut her off, shaking his head. “It’s almost midnight. I need to go to the bell tower.”

The sky was dark, the moon was high. It was closing on to midnight. Even if he was bailing out, he had a good reason. “A’right.”

Logic and common sense said she should stand up, too, so they could leave, and retreat and regroup. They couldn’t do this tonight. Their wounds were still too fresh, cut too deep. There was too much hurt involved, too much pain. Yet, she still sat on the edge of the bed.

“Um—” Rick said, watching her, “I—I’ll see ya later then?”

Amanda even heard a…hopeful tone in his voice. She nodded quickly, dipping her head. “Yeah.”

Without a word back, Rick walked toward the closet and took his duty belt from inside. He cinched it around his hips and started walking to the door.

“Rick—” she called out before he left the room. His hand halting on the door’s handle, Rick turned aside. “Check out your gun in the armory before you come back.”

His look was long and speculative this time, a patented Rick Grimes look, but he bobbed his head a second later in simple acceptance again. “’kay.”

Amanda didn’t move for a while even after he left. A quarter-hour later, she finally stood up and started unzipping her pants. She wasn’t sure what she was doing but felt she should do it. She wanted to stay here tonight, just stayed with them. She needed time, but she didn’t want Rick to feel like she was pulling away again. She rummaged through his closet to find herself a pajama bottom from him and quickly put it on before she settled herself back in the bed, sliding over Rick’s spot to be closer to Judith.

The bed smelled like Rick and the baby girl, and Amanda breathed deeply. Her lips curved up slowly as she rubbed a hand softly over Judith’s stomach. “I wish I had a father like you, too, Judy—” she whispered. “A father would do anything for me.”

It was something she could never admit to anyone, perhaps even to herself in other circumstances, but tonight was a special night. So, she bent down and kissed the baby’s hair lightly. “I love ya bunches, honey bunny.”

She rested back on Rick’s pillow, carefully facing the door, her fingers softly running over Judith’s stomach before she closed her eyes.

The door cracked in the dawn, and Amanda heard careful footsteps, not heels, but light thumps. She tensed for a second before relaxing immediately, her body just sensing him, something easing in her without even opening her eyes. The bed creaked softly with his weight as Rick slowly slipped under bed covers. His smell filled her nostrils even more than before. He still must be in his clothes; her sleepy mind felt the sturdy denim cloth when Rick spooned her from behind.

There must be at least two hours before they should go to Deanna, to make another stand, perhaps to have another fight, but for now, they were just going to sleep together. Through the cobwebs of sleep, she recalled how they had slept a whole day in each other’s arms in the den but stopped herself before her thoughts skated further.

She still didn’t want to think. So, she just eased herself further in his embrace, wriggling in his arms to find the most comfortable position. Cold fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt as Rick held her tightly, cold callous fingers over her bare skin again.

“Cold—” she slurred out, squirming, but didn’t pull away from his touch.

“Sorry—” he mumbled to her ear, his head resting beside hers on the pillow, his other hand wrapping around her neck and vanishing in her hair. “Was very icy up there.”

“Should find ya gloves…”

“Yeah…”

With that, Amanda went back to sleep.

# # #

His eyes jerked open with a low but certain knocking on the door, and he tried to move and slide his hand under the pillow for his gun, but he couldn’t.

“Amanda—Rick, you need to get up—” Rick heard the soft, gentle voice from the other side the next second.

Rick blinked against the sunlight that filled in the room, his body pinned down on the mattress with Amanda’s body. She was practically on top of him now, one of her slim legs had slipped between his as her head was tucked under his chin over his chest, her palm flat on his heart.

He almost couldn’t believe how he’d fallen asleep this deeply only for a few hours. Hell, he couldn’t even remember himself sleeping like this for days, and he knew the reason for it was sprawled out on top of him, still sleeping soundly.

Rick smiled as his fingers briefly touched the end of her hair over her shoulders. It was so good to see her like this again, sleeping in his arms peacefully. Judy was sleeping in soft puffs beside him, too, and the way they were now made him feel like what they had discovered yesterday in the quarry was only a bad dream. He would just wake up now, go downstairs and prepare breakfast. Amanda would make them pancakes while Rick made their coffee…

“Daryl waits downstairs—” Carol interrupted his daydream, bring him back to reality. Daryl was waiting because they needed to go to Deanna. Because that herd in the quarry wasn’t a bad dream.

Rick sighed and started gently shaking Amanda at her shoulder. He was half surprised she didn’t wake up at the moment Carol had called to them and wondered if it was because she felt so safe with him that she had managed to lower her guard in this way. It was a good thought.

“Amanda, baby, wake up,” Rick softly called to her, his fingers brushing her locks again. Her hair had elongated a few inches now, gently passing over her shoulder midway. Rick wanted to clip it, just the way it was before their lives turned upside down in the prison. “We need to go to Deanna.”

She stirred and raised her head from his chest. She stared around the room sheepishly for a few seconds before her eyes turned to him. The desire to kiss her rose strongly in him after seeing her sleep-induced bedazzled expression, but this time Rick stopped himself.

There was a part of him that was still astounded finding her in the bed returning from the bell tower, that she’d stayed and waited for him. When he’d realized she was in the bed sleeping with Judith, hope had filled him in a way no sex would have done.

On the new day, Rick left even lighter. He didn’t need to hide anything from her anymore, and that was a relief itself. He almost wished he’d heeded Carol’s words and told her earlier, but he couldn’t change the past. They had a future to remake instead.

“Is it the time?” Amanda mouthed out.

Rick bobbed his head sloppily. “Yeah… Daryl waits for us.”

Carol must have already gone because the knocking had stopped. Rick cracked a faint smile as Amanda raised her hand to cover a yawn, dipping her head. When she drew the covers back, Rick saw what she wore to bed was his pajama bottom. Last night he’d felt the cotton fabric but couldn’t be sure in the dark. The thought of her in his clothes again made him stir inside his own jeans, his cock hardening in instinct before Rick could control the urge.

In a twirl, Amanda stood up. Her habitual shyness found her, her cheeks flushing. Still in the bed, Rick almost chuckled at her reaction for sensing his erection as Amanda darted her eyes away quickly.

“Um…I’ll take a shower,” she muttered before she dashed toward the bathroom

Rick decided to play the cool and give her space. He nodded, reaching out to his watch toward the bed stand.

He wouldn’t mind a shower himself, too, changing into new clothes, but they didn’t have too much time left. He carefully took up Judy and settled her inside the crib. His baby girl slept quite well last night, perhaps it was because of ibuprofen and the shower, or perhaps she just felt more relaxed within Amanda’s company like him.

Rick was more inclined to believe the latter.

The thought made him chuckle this time lowly, although Judith sleeping in the bed with him would be problematic. Especially if Amanda decided to come back to him. His baby girl needed to learn to stay in her bed, hell, they perhaps might need to find her a separate room, like Carl and Beth. Perhaps they should ask Deanna another house so Amanda would be—

Rick stopped himself, realizing he was going too fast again. Amanda emerged out of the bathroom wearing her clothes, holding his folded in one hand.

She glanced at him, standing beside the door, her body posture emitting off an awkwardness. Suddenly his amusement turned to fear, wondering if she was feeling regret again just like after their drunken time, and wished that she hadn’t stayed last night.

His jaw squared.

“I need to check out my gun—” She was trying to keep her voice plain and cool as Rick headed the bathroom toward her. “Left it in the attic last night. You checked out yours in the armory, right?”

“Yeah. Olivia wasn’t there, but I left it with the guard. That dark-haired boy Aiden planted for the night.”

“The other one?” she questioned further, her gaze having a cautious look again as Rick stopped beside her in front of the bathroom.

“It’s still with me.” It was under his pillow as Rick hid it there each night before he went to sleep. “I’m gonna talk about the guns with Deanna before we leave for the quarry. This won’t do. We need to be armed. There’re a thousand walkers out there.”

“Walkers we plan to set loose—” Amanda mouthed sotto voce as Rick gazed at her. She shook her head a little. “I’ll see ya at Deanna.”

He gave her a nod, unbuttoning his shirt as she turned around and left the room.

Rick let out a weary sigh when the door closed behind her. He left the bathroom door ajar to hear Judith if his baby girl started crying and quickly finished his morning routine. After he was done, he grabbed the baby monitor radio from the closet and went downstairs. He set the radio on the countertop before going to the stove.

Carol was alone in the kitchen, stirring a pot that smelled sweet and nice. Very nice. “What’s that?”

“Apple marmalade—” she answered. “The ones they gave us almost finished. I thought I would make myself instead of asking for more. Using honey and molasses. We should grow our sugar beets.”  

“Yeah, and I want a pony,” he muttered.

Carol gave him a look. They still needed seeds and start planting, but what had happened with Wolves and now these walkers had put everything on a brake. Rick didn’t need a pony, but he wouldn’t have said no to something like a flame tank or big, big flamethrowers.

He sighed inwardly, wandering his eyes around the kitchen. “Where're the others?” Usually, Rick never stayed this late in the morning, but when he returned to check on Judith before midday, he always saw people around.

“Beth went for her shift. Carl left to look for duck eggs. We’re gonna make an omelet today for Judy. Joan in the infirmary—” Carol counted absently her head bowed at the pot then twisted toward Rick. “You’ve been late this morning.” She paused, looking at him. “Late and cranky.”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm…”

“I told her—” Rick said then, not beating the bush further. “Told her what’s happened with Anderson.”

Carol nodded. “I figured out you did.” She started preparing him a bowl of porridge from another pot on the stove. “And?” she asked, throwing another glance at Rick over the stove. “What did she say?”

“Not much. She said she’s going to stay away from the bastard but will help Jessie if the woman asks for help.”

Carol gave another small nod, bringing the bowl to him. Rick settled on a stool at the kitchen island.  “She asked why I didn’t tell her before.”

Carol placed the bowl in front of him. “I hope you didn’t tell her she also kept things from you, Rick.”

Rick let out a low scoff, running his hand through his wet hair. “No. Didn’t say that.”

Carol eyed him. “Didn’t want to shoot yourself in the foot again, eh?” The question had him lift his head and look back at her. The older woman sighed, putting her hand over a stool at the other side of the island before she asked openly; “Did you have sex again?”

 Rick shook his head. “No. We just slept.”

“Well, I guess it’s something.”

Rick held her gaze and nodded. “Yeah, it is.” She stopped him last night and dashed off in the morning, but she waited for him the whole night. Put on his jammies. Slept in his arms. It was something.

“You heard about the quarry?” Rick asked, taking a spoon from the drawer under the countertop, returning to their current problem.

“Daryl mentioned it last night—” Carol replied. “He said you want to let them out.”

“Yeah. We need to talk about it, but I think it’s the best option. We need to figure out a plan and a way to keep them rounded up.”

He’d studied the maps before his shift, drawing up a course to move the herd away from Alexandria. The biggest problem was the main artery of the I-495 that gathered all the other county roads. They were going to need to close the southwest entrance to protect their side road. The intersection that led to Alexandria was already closed with their blockade, so if they only closed that way up in the north, they would be okay.

Rick still knew it sounded crazy, he thought it crazy, but that was what they had to do. What he had to do to protect his family, so Rick was going to do it.

“You’re gonna have to convince a lot of people for that—” Carol commented softly after a second, and Rick had to agree again.

“I know. I will. I already talked with Deanna. Amanda has prepared a skill and competency chart to track how people do in the courses. A score list.” Rick paused, making up his mind about it. “We’re going to put it on in the community center.”

Deanna possibly wouldn’t like him preparing his own list and making it public, but Rick didn’t care. When the scores were out, it would create a public opinion and pressure on the able people. They couldn’t do this alone. Rick didn’t trust these people, but he still needed them.

“Deanna is okay with it?” There was suspicion in Carol’s voice, and Rick didn’t lie.

“Didn’t talk to her yet,” he admitted, shaking his head. “Possibly not.” But Rick still was going to do it, whatever her answer would be. He always did what he had to, no matter what.

# # #

Clarice had woken up in the early morning before they went to the meeting Deanna had ordered again. She thought it was one of the things she’d picked up from Carl. Before they came Clarice used to drag herself out of the bed, always looking for ways not to go to school.

Sometimes she still couldn’t believe how much her life had changed over a month. Her fingers brushed over the knife that Carl had given her, tucked at her belt. She’d never carried something like that before, and it still came to her weird, Bee gazing at it suspiciously, but not making a comment. Bee didn’t carry one herself, but she let Clarice do it.

It was hers now. She–Clarice Reese—had a hunting knife, which she carried in a small scabbard at her waistline, which she’d used yesterday to kill her first undead.

Officer Shepherd had made her do it after her class with the kids ended yesterday. Clarice had never thought she would do such a thing. The sleek blade had slipped through the eye socket with a disgusting sound. Clarice wanted to close her eyes, forcing down the instinct deep inside her to retch, then took the blade out and stabbed the soggy skull. By the time Officer Shepherd was satisfied with her strikes, her hands had become red until to her wrist, sticky with blood and other stuff. But the woman still didn’t get satisfied with only that and made Clarice hold the dead, made her feel it.

It was truly the most disgusting thing she’d ever done all in her life, but Clarice did it. Her mother would’ve been proud of her.

Carl wanted to hunt down for eggs this morning for his sister before they went to the meeting. He’d mentioned it last night, saying he wanted to make an omelet for the baby girl. Clarice thought it sweet, caring for his little sister like that, and told him she was going to help him. She had no idea what a duck nest would be like, but she guessed she would learn it soon. Carl even mentioned that they would hunt wild turkeys and pigs in the woods. Clarice was surprised again, turkeys… In the woods… She would’ve never guessed!

Sometimes she wondered if they had ever thought them a useful thing in the school. She bowed her head and looked at her painted nails. Her nails were still manicured and painted red, and Clarice liked that, too. Sometimes she felt like she couldn’t do…both, but she would try at least.

She walked around the backyards, not wanting to meet with anyone who would be an early riser, as unlikely as it sounded. Alexandrians hated to wake up early, but she still kept her distance, walking over the pond to meet Carl. She didn’t want to see anyone. These days the whole town was like a buzzing hive. She was aware not everyone regarded what Carl’s father tried to achieve with them as a necessity they needed to learn as Clarice did.

Like Ron. Their last talk came to her, but Clarice suppressed it down. She didn’t want to think about it, a part of her still felt hurt, even though she didn’t want it. Ron had been a part of her life since she knew herself, but the way he forced her to choose between himself and Carl like that, throwing his father in the mix, too… No. Perhaps it was the best they stopped talking. Sometimes people grew apart, went to other paths.

Just as she thought the other teenager, she saw Ron and his father turned around the curve ahead of her from the front side. She quickly hid behind the apple tree close by and checked the house to see it was Carter’s. The tall willowy man appeared around the curve of his front yard too, following them quickly toward the community center.

Clarice wondered what was happening as she saw a couple of other people hurrying toward the center. Alexandrians never woke up this early, especially in these numbers, especially to scurry over to the community center. Beatrice had tried to convince them to join up to her Pilates sessions for months, even starting a club in the mornings before she gave up, accepting no one was interested.

Then she saw that weird priest that had come with Carl and his people trotting toward the center, too, his eyes wandering around funnily. Clarice frowned. She’d never seen Carl and the priest together, Carl had said they saved him in the woods and stayed in his church for a while, but Clarice had felt no warmness in his words while he talked of the man. Clarice hadn’t pressed on it, all in frankness, not caring enough to do it, but she wished now she had.

Because the way the man checked out his surroundings with covert glances before he vanished inside the community center didn’t tell her good things. She stayed there until more people came and went inside, in the same way, glancing around as if they were doing something they wanted to keep it secret.

It seemed like there was another meeting the townspeople were gathered for, something not all of them were invited to. She waited for a couple of minutes more until the stream of comers faltered, and Clarice finally saw Carl striding toward the pond from the north.

Clarice quickly stepped around her tree and waved at him, signaling him to come to her. With a frown, Carl did. “Hey—what’s—”

Yanking the cuff of his thick denim jacket, Clarice dragged him behind the tree next to her as a couple came from their west side. She recognized them as the couple two houses down from Mr. Blake.

“What’s happening?” Carl asked again, giving her a look behind the tree.

“I don’t know—” she answered truthfully. “But people are coming to the community center.”

“Dad said the meeting is gonna be at nine—” Carl replied. “It’s too early.”

“Yeah—” she agreed. “I don’t think they’ve come for your father’s meeting, Carl.”

Clarice didn’t know what the meeting today was about. Carl hadn’t told her, either, only said his father and Officer Shepherd had discovered something when they went out yesterday. Clarice had seen Carl’s hunter uncle and Aiden left the town then, so she knew something had happened as she knew whatever was happening now wasn’t about that.

“That funny man came to. The priest that came with you—” Clarice went on.

“Father Gabriel?” Carl echoed back, sounding baffled.

She gave him a quick nod. Carl shot a look over the tree, pulled back, and turned to her. “Let’s go check—”

Clarice stayed immobile, looking at him. “Do you want to go in?”

“Yeah. I want to learn what’s happening.”

“But if we’re caught—”

Carl threw at her a lopsided grin. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Ms. Reese?”

“Do you remember Deanna threatened to send you to Denise too if she catches you again acting out?”

“We’re not sneaking out,” Carl pointed out.

Clarice let out a subsided sigh, trying to hold back a grin. “Lead the way, Sheriff’s son.”

Carl quickly dipped his head and pecked her lips before he turned and stepped out of the tree. This time, grinning, Clarice followed him.

Checking their surroundings, they ran to the center and slid the glass panel door. They hurried over to the lounge room at the back as covertly as they managed and took cover behind a wide column close to the entrance. The winged door was open so the talks inside carried over to them.

Carl shook his head beside her, poking his head out of the column. “They didn’t even plant any lookout—” he whispered to her, sounding almost exasperated.

She turned to him. “If you want to hold a secret meeting—” he explained in a low voice, “You station someone outside to check around so no one can spy on you.”

“Like we do now?” she mouthed with a sly smirk.

“Yeah.” He drew back as Clarice heard Carter Blake’s voice clearer, the playful banter between them turning sober as soon as they did.

“You know what happened with Dr. Anderson in the sewers. I don’t care what the others say. I know what I saw.” They shared a look as the man continued. “But if you want to hear more, let’s hear Father Gabriel. He’s a man of God, bound to his vows and faith.”

 “The Lord abhors all violence—” Clarice heard the more serene voice as Carl frowned more. “So does Rick Grimes as he claims. He says he only tries to protect his family, and I don’t doubt that. He cares about his family, I know that. But if you ask me if he would do it at the expense of you and your beloved ones, his answer would be the same as what he told me once. That he wouldn’t hesitate.”

There was a silence in the room next to them as Clarice shot another glance at her boyfriend who stared ahead with that look again. Clarice swallowed, trying to stop her galloping heart, and held his hand. Carl looked at her as the father said for the last; “He’s a dangerous man.”

“We make a petition—” Carter’s voice followed. “We sign our names and take it to Deanna. She needs to listen to us. We don’t want him here.” Clarice tightened her fingers around his as she realized what the secret meeting was all about. “He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t belong to Alexandria.”

Letting her hand go, Carl turned and started walking out. Clarice ran after him silently. “Carl!” she called out to him outside the patio as silent as possible. “Carl—wait!”

He turned and walked back to her. “I asked Dad to save him!” he whispered at her heatedly. “He was trapped by the walkers and Dad saved him! Amanda almost got bitten because of him!” His anger flared for the first time Clarice had ever seen him, and for a moment or so, he looked like his father. “Maggie got bitten because of him!”

Clarice held his arm. “Carl—”

“They’re trying to kick Dad out of here.”

She shook her head quickly. “Deanna wouldn’t do it. And they’re not all Alexandria, Carl. We’re here, too.” She took a step closer to him. “Me, Beatrice, Maria. Ms. Shelly. Aiden. Spencer. Denise. We want you here, all of you.”

“Do you?” he asked, and she quickly nodded.

“I’m gonna start a petition too and give it to Deanna. I’m quite positive we can beat their numbers.”

“Can we?”

She gave another nod, making it firm and certain. “Yes.” She paused for a second before she added. “I think Dr. Anderson is involved, too. Ron came to me yesterday, said his father doesn’t want him to hang around with you. Told me to stop seeing you—” She quickly rounded the words. “He broke up with Beth, too.”

Carl frowned. “That’s why he stayed away from us yesterday in the basement?”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

Carl cursed under his breath then looked at her. “What did you tell him?”

Clarice smiled. “I told him I won’t break up with my boyfriend because his father doesn’t want me to.”

His expression easing off after her declaration, that blank look leaving him, he looked like again the cute shy town boy that Clarice had made fun of at their first meeting. He took her hand back. “Let’s go find the eggs. I promised Judy an omelet.”

“Are you going to tell it to your father?” Clarice asked as they dove into the bushes around the pond.

Carl shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s already stressed enough.”

“Maybe we tell it to Officer Shepherd first—” Clarice mused out. “She can deal with it, can talk with Deanna.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to her before the meeting—” he agreed, pulling aside a bush to reveal its root. Half of an hour later, they found the nest, three eggs inside. She almost let out a happy squeak seeing the ugly brown eggs.

“Oh my god!” she cried out, lifting her head over the bush. “They’re so ugly!”

Carl handed her one of the eggs. “We found ‘em together.”

Clarice shook her head. “For your sister.”

Carl leaned on her again, but this time kissed her cheek. It was such a sweet thing, she found herself smiling. Suddenly she felt like she was thirteen again, having her first crush, secretly snogging in Caldwell’s groove.

She stood up. Back out in the tree line, she kissed him on the cheek like he did to her. “You talk to Officer Shepherd before the meeting?”

Carl nodded. “A’right.”

Clarice turned and started walking back to her house. Before she arrived and crossed the main street, suddenly Ron jumped in front of her around the corner.

Halting, the lingering smile wiped off her lips as Clarice frowned at her childhood friend. She didn’t want to talk to him. A part of her felt betrayed now, too. Not only he was listening to his father’s idiotic attitude, Ron hadn’t even warned her about what his father and Mr. Blake had been doing. Carl was her boyfriend.

“Don’t talk to me ever again, Ron!” she seethed out before stepped around him and started walking to the main street.

“Cler!” Ron called after her, but she ignored it.

# # #

Amanda returned from the short meeting with Deanna to check on the kids and Cinnamon again before they went to the community center. The meeting with Deanna had passed tense, Deanna not going with Rick’s demand that they put up her score list on the billboard in the lounge room at first, but finally caving in on Rick’s insistence.

She’d been shocked at first hearing what Rick wanted, using her matrix to evaluate her trainees in this way. It was another heated argument about obligations and coercion, and frankly, Amanda wasn’t even sure which side she agreed on more. Deanna had pointed out making it public was going to put expectations on people who scored highest, which Rick had argued that they were obliged to help them as it was the main reason why Rick wanted to do it in the first place.

That part Amanda agreed. They couldn’t do this alone. Rick was right about that. But she still didn’t know. Putting this much pressure on people in such a short time…It never ended well. When she stepped over the screen door, her head preoccupied with thoughts and concerns, she was greeted by something she hadn’t smelled for a long, long time.

Omelet.

The kitchen smelled of eggs.

Her dark musings pushing backward, her lips pulled out automatically as she walked in the hall, realizing Carol had finally found eggs. She took up Cinnamon from the floor, crossing the kitchen doorway. Carl and Mika were around the island as Carol sashayed the pan over the stove. “Found your eggs?” she asked, taking a stool across Carl and Mika.

The baby monitor was on the countertop as Judith still must be sleeping upstairs, her highchair empty.

“Carl did with Clarice this morning—” Carol replied. “Brought three. One for Mika, the other two for Judith.”

Amanda thought of the little six years old girl the Johnsons’ had adopted after her father died in the early outbreak. “We should give one to Sarah. She should have one, too.”

Carol gave her a look. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“I can give mine to him,” Mika said. “I like her. She’s so cute. Likes Judy too.” Amanda smiled at her, brushing her hand over her hair as she moved toward the head of the island, dropping Cinnamon back on the ground from her lap. “No. We’re gonna split them evenly. Each of you takes one egg.”

Carol placed the pan back on the stove and turned it off. Amanda took a small carrier from one of the drawers and brought it to Carol. The older woman put a third of the omelet inside it before securing its lid and turning to Mika. “Come over here.” She handed the carrier to the girl. “Take it to Mrs. Johnson.”

Mika took it and dashed out like wind not to cool down the omelet. Amanda looked at Carl. “Where did you find them?”

“I’m gonna show you after the meeting—” he replied as Carol signaled him. “Carl, go up and take Judith.”

Carol brought the small plate over to Judith’s highchair. When Carol turned to deal with the dirty pan and plates, Amanda started cutting the omelet into little pieces to prepare small morsels for Judy. The baby girl hadn’t started eating on her own yet, but sometimes they experienced it, let her eat on her own, throwing little morsels in her mouth, and…around herself.

It was a messy thing that involved a lot of food scattering around and on themselves, so honestly, they didn’t do it a lot. Amanda wanted to try now. It also gave her something to do when she stayed alone with Carol as the woman kept spying knowing looks at her. Cutting the eggs, Amanda wondered if she talked with Rick this morning.

She knew she’d panicked again after waking up, especially after realizing his erection. Last night she’d told him she hadn’t come for sex, told him she still needed time, but she hadn’t planned on sleeping on top of him either, even though she did indeed stay and wait for him. But—but it was just easier in the night, in the dark, just sleeping in his arms as he cocooned her, feeling safe and secure, and warm, so warm. In the daylight, it just felt…different. God, she was still running around in circles and circles, ending up doing the same stuff even though she didn’t want to. She wondered if Denise might have a saying for it because she truly felt like a hamster running on a wheel. Cinnamon started rubbing between her legs, following the smell of eggs and Amanda smiled down at her baby tabby, pushing back the last night in the back of her mind.

She would never let that bastard hurt Judith, nor Rick, and the rest…they didn’t have time for the rest right now. Not when they had a town to put it in order and one thousand or so rotters to deal with.

God. What the hell they were going to do with those bastards? Letting them go still didn’t sit well with her, thinking of all the ways they would fuck it up… She took a piece of omelet finishing cutting it and knelt to feed it to Cinnamon that was still curling around her legs.

She wished she could give her kitten a bit more too, but more of it would make her sick, so she only let her have a test of it. She went to the sink to wash her hands as Carl came inside with Judith, the baby girl gnawing on her bunny again.

Carl settled her in her chair as Amanda took a little plastic fork for the babies from the drawer. Judith dropped her bunny on the table before her, picked up a little piece Amanda had cut, and brought it toward her lips and nose, sniffing before throwing it into her mouth.

Amanda smiled, placing down the fork. Judith’s hand dove in the plate again and found two pieces at the same time, but dropped one inside her collar. Amanda reached out to take it, but getting cross, Judith pushed her hand away.

She didn’t let the piece of omelet go waste, slipping her fingers inside her collar, securing Judith’s hand with her free hand. Judith let out a whinnying cry out of protest, pushing the plate with her other hand, too. Amanda caught it at the last moment.

“All right—” she chided lightly, giving the baby a look, the plate still in her hand. “This’s so precious to behave like this, Judy.”

For a second or so, she stopped, catching herself what she’d caught the baby girl, her eyes darting quick looks at both Carl and Carol. None of them seemed to notice her slip.

Judy.

Amanda never used shortened names for anyone, she had never. It was a thing people like Rick, Carl, Carol, Beth did…not her. For her, the baby was simply Judith. She’d done it last night in the bed, but they were alone then. Her heart started galloping as if she had overstepped another line too, a line no one else than her seemed to be aware of.

They still went on their business. Carol was washing the pan. Carl was looking down at the countertop thoughtfully. Her cheeks flushing, Amanda quickly bowed her head and took back the fork, and started feeding the omelet to the baby girl.

The door opened and Mika dashed in a second later as fast as she had left and climbed on the stool quickly and dug in her share. “They thanked you, Carol—” the little girl said, her mouth full, and her lips holding a smile, “Said we’re so kind and good to think of Sarah.”

Carol smiled back gently but Carl’s head whipped up. “They’re preparing a petition to send Dad out—” he suddenly announced, his voice cold.

Both Amanda and Carol stayed motionless, even Mika, understanding what the words meant. Carol turned toward her quickly. “Mika, take your plate and go to the living room. You can turn on the TV, too.”

“But—”

Her piercing blue eyes fixated a look at the little girl. “Mika, go. Now. Close the door too.”

Mika followed the order, scurrying out of the kitchen with her plate. Judy—Judith made a whinny buzz, wanting another egg. Amanda gave her one before she turned to her older brother. “What do you mean?”

“What I said—” he said with a shrug. “They don’t want him here. They think he doesn’t belong to Alexandria,” he went on. “They met in the community center this morning in secret. Clarice noticed it. We went inside and heard it.”

Amanda let out a sigh. “Father Gabriel is with them, too—” Carl added icily as Amanda truly stopped.

“What?”

“He’s plotting with them!” Carl hissed. “He told them Dad is dangerous!”

“Did you tell it to your father?” Carol asked quickly.

Carl shook his head. “No.” The teenager turned to her. “Clarice mentioned you can talk with Deanna. Can you?” he asked, looking at him questionably.

Putting down the omelet’s plate, Amanda stared at Carl. She knew what they had meant even though they didn’t say it aloud. They were all cautious, much like Amanda, wary of how Rick might react.

How would Rick truly react if people tried to exile them out?

The answer gave her a shudder, thinking of the guns they’d stolen and hidden inside the house and in the woods. “I’ll do it—” she said. “They’re probably just making a fuss. Because of what we did yesterday.”

And Amanda couldn’t even imagine how they would react when they learned what Rick wanted them to do with the herd. “Clarice said she’s gonna make a petition herself in favor of us. She said there are people who want us here too—” Carl remarked slowly.

Amanda glanced at the omelet plate before she gave the teenage boy a nod. “I’ll talk to Deanna after the meeting.”

She gave the plate to Carol to continue to feed Judith and left the house. It was almost nine and she wanted to stay alone, walk around the town for a bit to clear her mind.

The main problem was the father. Perhaps she just should talk to that ungrateful wheezing backstabbing traitor, stop him from being an asshole. They’d saved him! She sided with him, even after what happened with Maggie. How could he do this to them after how they lost Maggie?

I warned him—

Rick’s words haunted her, and she felt a weird pang of guilt. It was one thing that a group of Alexandrians didn’t want Rick, but when one of their group also backed what Carter and possibly that damn bastard had started, then it was something else. She’d tried to play it cool with Carl and Carol in the kitchen, but if a petition like that reached to Deanna, she was going to be bound to take notice of it.

Her idealistic ethics and beliefs wouldn’t let her…look the other way. She wouldn’t send Rick off, she still needed him, but she and Rick were going to clash over it again. She walked over the wall, passing the watch platforms, rubbing the back of her neck, not knowing what to do.

A part of her also wanted to tell Rick, come clean, she was so tired, so tired of keeping things from him. Last night hurt her more than she had thought, more than she had ever imagined, she didn’t want to do it anymore. She didn’t want to do it to herself anymore, either, kept running around circles keeping secrets from each other.

It was killing them, like an old festering wound, it was poising them, what they had. She stopped in her steps, letting out a deep breath, suddenly feeling a clarity in her. She wasn’t going to do it anymore. She was just going to stop.

Raising her head, she quickly scanned the grounds, trying to locate Rick. There were only a few places Rick could be in this early morning, so Amanda continued to walk around the wall and caught him closest to Deanna’s house.

He was together with Reg and Tobin at the construction site for the last platform. Over the workbench beside the platform, a map was laid on top of it, marked with red lines and circles. One of the lines at the north was the quarry Amanda read it at the first glance and her eyes drew to the second line in the middle between Alexandria and the quarry camp.

Rick waved at her, pointing to the red circle. “This’s the main artery.” His fingertip drew a line toward the northwest. “We need to lead the herd up there. We know the Wolves are around this region.”

Amanda nodded, almost absently, not looking at it, but staring at Rick instead. His eyes squinted, suspicion clear in his gaze as he read her disinterested attitude. Amanda jerked her head at him a little. He took her elbow and led her away from the other men.

“What’s happened?” he quickly asked, then paused, his frown growing deeper as he studied her. “Amanda, if this’s about the plan or your score list—”

She cut him off, shaking her head. “No. It’s not about them—” she said, jerking her head at the map, forcing herself to calmness before announced placidly, “I need to tell you something. But I want you to promise me first you won’t react.”

A grimace followed his frown as Rick walked closer to her, moving them away further from the men. “Amanda, what’s happening?” he questioned her again.

“Promise me first—” she insisted.

“No—” Rick declined sternly, not bulging. “I’m not giving any promises before I know what this is about. Tell me what happened.”

Perhaps it was a mistake, Amanda thought, perhaps, she really should’ve kept it secret. But it was too late now. She’d already started it. Rick wouldn’t have left it alone now. So she continued; “Carter has started a petition to expel you.”

# # #

“He did what?” Rick all but cried out, not knowing if he would laugh or get angry just like Amanda had feared. She had surprised him first coming to him again before the meeting, then made him wary as she stalled, not wanting to tell him what had happened.

It was such an out-of-character thing for her, Rick didn’t know what might have trigged such kind of behavior from her this time, because she was still obviously wary of his reaction, demanding his promise first not to react.

The fact that she treated him again like a wild animal that needed extreme caution irked Rick like always, but what he’d heard was so…absurd, he guessed he might disappoint her a bit in the end. A petition. To expel him… Even that moron couldn’t be that idiotic. Then Rick thought about it, and yeah, he could be just that idiotic.

“H-he thinks they can send me away with signing papers?” He let out a derisive sound, shaking his head. “A for effort.”

Amanda looked at him, her cautious expression turning stiff. “They’re gonna take it to Deanna,” she said placidly. “They think you’re dangerous.”

“And what?” Rick asked, putting his hand on his empty holster. “Should I get worried?” He took a step closer, leaning forward her an inch, finding her eyes. “Why would I care what they think of me?”

It was the discussion they had to stop finding the herd in the quarry, but it seemed Amanda still couldn’t understand. The only people he cared about were his family. He didn’t care what Alexandrians thought about him. He was still trying, still making the effort to live together with them, but if they thought him as dangerous, Rick was okay with that. In fact, he would even prefer it.

Rick was dangerous. The townspeople had better remember that. But they were still clueless people, and a part of him even wanted to go and berate them, asking them how they would be that naive, thinking that they could send any of them away like that?

How many times did Rick have to tell these people that they didn’t live in that world anymore? How many people did they need to lose before they got it? Despite everything, Rick was still trying to help them. Why couldn’t they just see it?

Amanda shook her head as if she’d read his thoughts. Realizing that they were having a personal talk, both Tobin and Reg started walking away heading to the community center. Amanda watched their retreating backs for a few seconds before she turned to him again.

“They aren’t as clueless as you think, Rick,” she told him slowly, her tone softening a bit. “They want to keep it secret. They met in secret this morning. Carl and Clarice caught them while they were looking for eggs.”

Rick thought about it, understanding she had a point, too. He felt a mix of annoyance and relief at the same time, even though it would cause him more problems, but at least they had enough wits to try to keep the conspiracy in secret. “They set up those men—” Amanda reminded him as Rick grimaced. “And it was two years ago.”

 Rick looked at her. “Y’all start carrying the guns we hid—” he told her as Amanda let out a sigh.

“Rick—”

“No. You all do it, Amanda. I don’t want to hear it. We won’t get caught unawares. If they try something, we fight back.”

Amanda shook her head. “We need to go and talk to Deanna first—” she opposed like she always did. “Getting armed to the teeth won’t solve our problems. We need to find a common ground between you and the townspeople.”

Rick wanted to oppose too, he didn’t want to find any common ground with anyone, but after seeing her look, Rick halted. He didn’t want to fight with her. Didn’t want them to be like this all the time. She’d come to him. Rick realized her wariness better now. She knew they would end up having another fight, but still, she came to him and didn’t want to keep it secret from him. Even Carl had come to her first after learning it, Rick realized too, had looked up to Amanda for a solution. If that was how she wanted to handle this, Rick decided to play along…as far as he could.

“Okay, we do it if you want it—” he said but quickly added, “But you carry a gun—” She opened her mouth, but Rick cut her off, walking in on her closer. “No, Amanda, you do it. That’s enough bullshit.” If he was accepting her way, she needed to accept this too.

But she still opposed, shaking her head agitatedly. “If we do it, we’re only proving their points!”

“I don’t care!”

“Well, I told you I do!”

Rick bowed his head, his forehead almost touching hers as he tried to calm down himself. Common ground. Rick could do the common ground. He used to be so good at it, finding mutual benefits that all parties could agree on. Sometimes it felt like he’d lost that man too somewhere along the way after the farm.

But for her, he would try, God, for her, he could always try. “We ask Deanne for the clearance inside walls for us. We were already going to do it.”

Looking at him, Amanda still shook her head. “After she learns about this, she won’t let us carry firearms inside, Rick. Don’t be naïve.”

Rick narrowed his eyes at her words, not because of the last jab, but when she had said first. “Learn about what exactly?” he asked with a low voice.

“Carter isn’t the only one or Anderson—” she answered, keeping her voice still placid but then halted as Rick became sure there was more to her story.

But of course, the bastard of a surgeon was with him. Rick would’ve been surprised if he wasn’t. Hell, he would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t orchestrated all of this stupidity, but after learning about them, the surgeon’s involvement wouldn’t have made Amanda this reluctant.

No. It was something else. Someone else that worried her enough to look for him, enough to convince her it would create more fractions between them and the townspeople. Rick regarded it deeper. Deanna wouldn’t take this petition seriously, because they deemed Rick as dangerous, not even after the sewers, unless…unless—then it dawned on Rick.

Not unless someone among them also sided with them. Rick let out a derisive sound, finally fully realizing what was happening under his nose.

Rick could only think of one possible candidate to rouse something like this among them, not believing his own people or Abraham’s folk would betray him like that. As for Noah and the other young men they had rescued from Terminus…No. It wasn’t them. It was Father Gabriel. Rick just knew.

His eyes found Amanda again. “It’s Father Gabriel, isn’t it?” Rick asked, even though he knew the answer.

“He told them you’re dangerous—” Amanda replied, confirming it. “They’re going to use him as the figurehead, Rick.” She paused. “And you threatened him. Tried to choke him—” she added sotto voce, her voice catching, Rick heard it, as she twisted her head aside from him.

Those times were still hard to talk to for Amanda. It was also close to the point that it was him who had started all this with Pete Anderson, and Rick wasn’t sure if they were ready to make that talk yet. If he was ready to talk about that. If he would be ever ready.

There was so much fear and coldness in him that day before Rick found Anderson, leaving the warehouse after Amanda and threatened the bastard to silence. Sometimes Rick still wondered what would’ve happened if Amanda didn’t leave him like that in the morning, instead stayed with him, but it was one of those things that Rick didn’t feel they were ready to talk about.

They had managed something last night. It was something. She’d stayed with him last night, came to find him today, wanted to tell him what was happening. Rick didn’t want to lose it again, didn’t want them to spiral into another unknown vortex. They didn’t need another problem. Another reason to fight, another conflict to deal with. Amanda wouldn’t like to learn it was him who had made the first threat. Rick didn’t want her to question them anymore. He wanted her back. He so wanted her back. God, he so needed her back.

He ran his hand through his hair, darting his eyes around. “We should go—” he told her, turning back to her.

Amanda gave him an absent nod. “Yeah.”

When they walked back over to the workbench, Amanda’s eyes caught Rick's red circles and lines on the map as their route. “Deanna wouldn’t let them do anything—” Rick told her slowly, rolling up the map. “Not when those walkers are out there. She needs us.”

She gave him another nod absently before they headed to the community center. Before they went inside, Amanda suddenly caught his elbow and stopped him on the patio.

“Clarice told Carl she’s gonna make a petition in favor of us. I sent one of the eggs this morning to Mrs. Johnson for their little girl—” she continued. “She told Mika we’re very kind and good to think of little Sarah.” She took a step closer to him, her grip on his forearm tightening, her fingers digging into his jacket’s suede fabric.

“There have to be people who want us here not only because we’re useful to kill rotters—” She pointed the rolled map in his hand with her head, “but because they know we’re good people!”

Rick couldn’t stop himself anymore. He’d been trying to control himself since the morning, trying to keep himself from her, trying to give her the time she needed, but how he could do it when she talked to him like this?

It didn’t even matter Rick believed it or not, didn’t even matter no one from Alexandria backed them up. They still had each other, and it was enough. More than enough.

He cupped her cheek, moving closer to her, his other arm gingerly, tentatively circling her waist. When she didn’t pull away from his embrace, relief filled him. Rick softly brushed his thumb over her cheek, dipping his head. She didn’t move back. Encouraged further, Rick eased his hand down over her neck before his lips touched hers.

They were just in front of the community center, just before an assembly that the whole town had been summoned and they were kissing in front of the main entrance. Her hand that was gripping his forearm slithered up and wrapped around his back, then she opened her mouth to accept him.

As she moaned so lowly in his mouth, Rick pulled her against his chest closer, tightening his arms around her further, deepening the kiss. His eyes flickering open, out of the corner of his eye, Rick saw people walking inside the center beside them as he swayed them aside over to the patio from the entrance, not stopping their kiss.

It was a slow, tender kiss as they took their sweet time. Time felt like stuck again, frozen, much like the first time they had kissed at Grady, gently exploring each other without hurry. She still tasted cinnamon and honey, his lips sweeping over hers lazily, his tongue exploring hers. Amanda’s hands crept inside his hair at the back of his neck, moaning deeper when Rick sucked the tip of her tongue. Rick supported her back against the patio’s wall, Amanda circling her arms around his neck tighter, holding his head with her both hands as Rick lifted her an inch up along the wall. A fire incited in him as she returned his passion equally, but Rick managed to pull away from her before they took it further.

They were both panting heavily as Rick let her go and Amanda touched on the ground again, but her back against the wall, she still stayed in his arms. Rick smiled a bit, his eyes darting up to find her greens as his forehead rested on hers. She gave back him a small shy smile then glanced at the entrance. “We’re gonna be late—”

 Rick still didn’t move. “They can wait a bit—” he roughed out with a voice as throaty as hers, brushing his lips over hers again. “I’ve been waiting for this for days.”

Her eyes skipped at the door again when the elderly Johnsons walked inside, and she dipped her head quickly over his shoulder to hide herself as if it would be anyone but her that Rick would kiss openly in public.

“Will you come again tonight?” he asked in a whisper, his heart hastening, worrying if he was pushing too much again, but still couldn’t help himself. God, he so wanted it, wanted to sleep with her in the same bed, even just that.

Amanda tensed for a second in his embrace, her head still hidden, then shook her shoulders. “I don’t know—” Rick heard her muffled, hoarse voice. “Maybe.”

Rick kissed her hair. “I’ll be waiting.”

Notes:

So, finally, we've come to this point. Rick asking her if she would come again to his room, inviting her for the night, so they could sleep together again. Hehe.
I admit making Amanda and Judith sleeping together without Rick was one of my aim for this story, Amanda finally cracking up and telling her she wished she had a father like Rick too, a father who would do anything for her, because the poor girl has got very complicated daddy issues...
Like I mentioned before, Judith is one of the biggest reasons that keeps Amanda and Rick still together, because even though they are a couple who are very attracted to each other, that passion isn't what that binds them together, especially when Rick becomes so hard to deal, but because she knows Rick is a good father. They are still keeping stuff from each other, especially Rick, not telling her everything, but I really waited long to make Amanda admit she wants to be with him, waiting for him to return as she slips and calls Judith 'Judy' as it's really not something Amanda ever does.
I also struggled to find how much Rick would tell her about what happened between Lori, Shane and himself, because Rick never talks about it, never. Period. It took him going through with Negan to crack up to Michonne in the show, telling her Judith isn't his, but his partner, but he briefly touched it, but instead told her how he had to be there for her so that he could teach her how to live in this world too. Rick never talks about Shane, too, because I feel like there's gigantic guilt in him regarding what he did, so I tried to explain it to Amanda as best as he could, without going in too deep. He told Lori 'I accept that' when Lori told him Judith was his no matter what, so I went with that, without telling how he killed Shane. I always say that was one of the best assholish moves of Rick, stabbing Shane in the heart after he lowered his gun because he felt they had gone too far gone and couldn't go back anymore. Even though I understand him and his reasons, and think all in honesty, Shane reaped what he sowed, it wasn't still Rick's best moments. This will come up later too, but there's still time for that as I can't imagine him coming clean like this fully just after he finally cracked up an inch...so he only told her now it's his mess, and he could never let his children suffer through it, which is one of the reasons I believe Rick never mentions it, too, because he doesn't want Carl and Judy to question Lori's love for them. And Rick has also a tendency to ignore emotional stuff when it's too much for him instead of facing them. This was a hard talk to find balance, I hope you liked it, too.

So, we've got Carter and his 'mutiny' too, conspiring with Gabriel. I devised it like a petition instead of a conspiracy to kill Rick and Gabriel siding with him instead of going to Deanna like in the show. So Rick is facing to be the persona non grata in the down as he tries to deal with the herd, the Wolves, and Pete Anderson at the same time. Poor guy. His worries never end... But at least he's got something to look up for tonight, right? Will Amanda come again to sleep with them? Hehe.

Chapter 38: 'Stay with me'

Summary:

After learning about the petition to expel him out, Rick and Amanda talk with Deanna. In the meanwhile, before they go to reinforce the quarry's barricades, Rick also finds out that one of the guns they stole from the amory is missing. After deciding that she wants to be with Rick, gathering her courage, Amanda comes to his room again to spend the night with him and Judith.

Notes:

Okay, let's do it. This is really one of those chapters I wanted to do...everything with them culminating to this point, so glad we're finally here. I really hope I won't see you anytime soon, lol, this time! Going back to the writing!
Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The lounge room was silent until Carter broke it standing in the middle of the crowd. “We need to let them go…?” he intoned, his voice reflecting the same stunned disposition as his face bore as he stared at both former law enforcement officers with widened eyes.

Deanna held back a long sigh. By that point, she thought the townspeople had taken the latest news well or had been just too shocked to react after learning there were a thousand walkers trapped so close to them but when Rick’s proposal slowly brought them back.

All in honesty, Deanna couldn’t blame her fellow residents. She hadn’t even slept a wink last night, thoughts and fear turning in her mind in a continuous loop. Reg had been the same beside her in the bed, so at least she had company, sheltering her worries away in his arms. In the morning, she still found herself with a killer headache, but she wasn’t surprised about that.

As she stood under the platform a few feet away from them, Deanna studied the room, her eyes turning back to Carter and the circle of people that the man had gathered around himself. Doctor Anderson was standing behind him in the middle, his face taciturn as Carter just looked scared and frustrated at the same time.

Not the first time Deanna wondered what was exactly going on in Alexandria, how things had become like this, but she had an inkling that she was going to learn soon enough.

“It’s the only way—” Rick stated again with stern words, equally stern look following it as he directed his gaze on Carter’s crowd, too. Officer Shepherd stood beside him placidly, looking sober, but not objecting. It also seemed the couple had come to an understanding with each other after their fight last night in her study.

Seeing them like that just in front of the patio kissing had Deanna surprised her a little, but also made something very clear. Even when they were on a break, even when they constantly fought with each other, they were inseparable. Sometimes, they reminded Deanna how her marriage had been at the start of her career, how Reg and she used to bicker and fight before they understood their connection was too deep and inseparable and they fought like that because they still so much cared for each other. Deanna wished the couple would’ve gathered it, too. Quickly. For everyone’s sake.

Carter shook his head. “Why don’t you kill ‘em?”

Deanna almost let out a scoff at that, but Rick didn’t have her tactfulness. He made a little mocking sound at the man. “Would it if we could—” he replied. “We don’t have that much firepower or manpower. This’s the only way—” he repeated, his face turning even grimmer with the gravity of his word and the challenge they faced with.

But Carter wasn’t an easy man to calm down. Deanna also knew that. “Letting them go?” he cried out, his voice pitching higher, turning around himself to address the rest of them. “Are you really okay with that?”

The murmurs stirred among the room as the crowd exchanged glances at each other. Her people looked even more terrified, as Aiden’s voice raised above all of them. “I saw it too with Jeff. Rick is right. We have to do something. We can’t leave them there like that.”

Deanna recalled their talk from last night. They were going to secure the falling barricade today after the meeting, and the thought of his son going that place again frightened her so heavily, Deanna almost wanted to shout out a no. Almost.

“You’ve been lucky, but luck runs out—” Rick announced again much like last night, and started telling the rest of his plan. It still sounded as insane as the last time, and the protests from the crowd raised higher and higher as Amanda’s expression turned even graver, but she still didn’t make any objections or attempt to cut in between them.

“We need more people than supply teams to manage the herd—” Rick went on, completely unfazed by the protests he was receiving before he shot a glance at her. “Officer Shepherd’s classes are almost finished now. She prepared a list of people that scored high in her lessons.” Pivoting his body aside, he waved his arm at the billboard behind them.

Despite her final approval, Deanna couldn’t help a frown as she looked at the white paper bulletin.

Making a list like that was like putting an X on the back of people, to coerce them into such a decision because they would be afraid of public backlash if they didn’t. They needed men, Deanna had reconciled with that, but Alexandria shouldn’t be this place, not even when circled with the dead. Yet—

Those damn pesky buts again.

That list puts expectations on people. Everyone who scored high will feel obliged to go out with you.

Everyone who scored high is obliged to go out! We can’t do this alone. We need people!

“Anyone wants to volunteer?” Rick asked, pulling her out of the fresh memory, as he wandered his eyes over the crowd.

Protests dying slowly, no one made a sound. Deanna walked forward. “We’re gonna talk about it later. Let people progress what they heard first—” she said, stepping on the aisle. “You go out and secure that barricade.”

Giving him a brisk nod, Rick confirmed as the crowd scattered away, murmurs picking up again.

“A’right—” He turned to Aiden and Daryl as Amanda stood silently, watching people leave, her gaze on Carter and his flock, but they cut over briefly toward the priest who walked beside them, her lips clenching with a grimace. She looked angry for a second before she directed her attention back to her estranged lover.

“Aiden, we move in an hour. Prepare a team—” Rick ordered to her firstborn quickly before his gaze moved toward his hunter friend. “Daryl, find Abraham. I want him sober.”

That was a wish Deanna shared too, very deeply. “Deanna, do you have a moment?” the female officer asked. “We need to talk to you about something.” She halted for a second as Deanna turned to her. “In private.”

Deanna raised an eyebrow. Rick’s jaw had moved, his expression turning stiffer, but he didn’t decline, either.  “All right—” she accepted. “Let’s move to my study.”

They shared a glance after her declaration, which made Deanna wondered about the demand for another meeting in private this quickly, just after the one they had.

Despite the tense, grave moment between them, Deanna couldn’t help but notice that they had come to her first with the score list before they took such an action. She was also aware that Rick still might have done it, regardless of her decision, and that would have put them in a dire situation with consequences. Deanna wasn’t sure if it was a line that they were ready to cross over, and she was glad that both officers felt the same way.

When they arrived, Deanna quickly led them upstairs to her study and sat behind her desk as they settled in their usual seats, a sight she’d become acquainted with since they had come to Alexandria. It made her feel a bit more relaxed, more in element than the lounge room, as if she returned to her seat of power.

She squared her shoulders, directing a look at them. “What’s it?” she asked openly.

“Carter and a few others are preparing a petition to bring you—” the female officer answered quickly in the same way Deanna did, not mincing the words. Rick was only staring at the wall ahead of him with that stern hard look, gravely silent at the other side. “To demand that you expel Rick out. They’ll want you to declare him as persona non grata.”

Deanna wasn’t surprised, not one bit. Over her eyes flashed the coward he’d gathered in the meeting, a feeling a strong of déjà vu. Her expression must have made it clear too, because the smart woman read it, her brows furrowing deeply.

Rick just twisted his head toward her, his gaze turning heavier. “You knew about it?” her latest FP-W asked, her voice a mix of suspicion and wariness. “Did they already talk to you?”

Deanna shook her head, but Rick talked in her place before she did. “No—” he said firmly, his eyes still on hers. “But this isn’t the first time she received a petition like this.”

“There was one before—” Deanna admitted. “For Dave and his men.”

And Carter, who had been an administration clerk for a senator before the outbreak, had been a figurehead also there. Carter knew politics, knew it rather well as it was one of the reasons why Deanna didn’t want him that close around herself. Quite much in everything, he was almost the direct opposite of Rick. Where Rick was open and direct, and honest, Carter Blake was as sly and sleek as a snake. He must be cowardly, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Yes—” Deanna confirmed with a brief nod. “They even demanded the council to gather. When we decide on the punishments such as exile—” she elaborated further, slanting a look at Rick. “We gather up a general council. Every person above eighteen in the town has a vote.”

It was a primitive form of enactment, but without proper law and legislation, it was the best what they could do. But their numbers were increasing, a fact Deanna saw every day in her office on her blackboard, they were well over fifty now. That number was only going to go up, but they needed a more definite, solid way of…doing things.

In other words, they needed a proper acting body that would manage lawmaking. No one could build a civilization without law. They had rules, yes, but law was different. Yet, it was a whole different discourse from what they faced now.

“We couldn’t hold the council,” she continued, turning her mind away from it, and studied the officers in front of her. “Dave found about it. Reacted badly. We had to act quickly.”

They both had a suspicious look now as if they were trying to decide as if Deanna was making a cautionary tale. Deanna herself wasn’t sure, perhaps she was. “How did you find about the petition?”

Their face stiffened worse. “They met secretly this morning before our meeting—” the female officer clipped. “Carl and Clarice saw them looking for eggs—”

Deanna puzzled for a second. “Eggs?”

“The eggs of the ducks in the pond—” Amanda clarified. “We’ve been looking for them for their eggs. Carl and Clarice found them this morning. But also saw them coming to the community center under cloak and daggers.”

“Hmm.” Deanna hummed, giving them another look. “And you wanted to come to talk to me.”

“Yes—” the younger woman’s eyes glinted with green fire. “They’re getting over their heads—” she stated without hesitation, her tone still firm, “and we wanted you to hear the real story from us first.”

“What story?”

“Someone from our group sided with them—” the officer admitted. “Father Gabriel.” Despite her firmness, she paused for a second before she continued. “He’s gonna tell you Rick is dangerous. Rick threatened him after we met, after we saved him, then—” Another brief pause as she glanced at her estranged lover. “Almost killed him too.”

Deanna looked at them silently, demanding further explanation. Which she did. She briefly summed up, how they had made in the wild, and went to his church. What had happened in the church at the beginning of the outbreak, what they had discovered, and Rick’s threat.

You’re going to burn for this.

Deanna tried to imagine such an act, but then Amanda continued, what had happened in the church, how they had lost one of them. Beth’s sister. The teenage girl’s grief had already moved Deanna when Amanda had told her she had lost her sister, but the circumstances made it even worse.

“I’m sorry for your losses—” Deanna only could say when the female officer finished.

“We lost Maggie because of his stupidity.”  Her tone was fierce now, her green eyes glinting with more fire. “He’s got no right to say Rick is dangerous. No right!”

“I understand.”

“I warned him—” Rick finally spoke since the first time they were in her study. By warning, Deanna supposed, he meant…his threat, but she didn’t correct him this time. “I tried to make him understand. But he didn’t get it.” His eyes found hers again, keen intent blue gemstones. “He still doesn’t.”

Deanna held his gaze. “But he’s right, Deanna. I’m very a dangerous man—” his voice dropped in a rough rasp, “When people try to hurt my family.”

For a second, Deanna wondered if it was a threat for her too, to warn her, but like always, the female officer cut in between them. “We’re not brute savages, Deanna. We still protected Gabriel for days even after what he caused. Didn’t force him out. Didn’t banish him. Rick still kept him alive.”

“I know you are people with a code, Amanda—” Deanna took the peace offering. She was glad that they had come to her telling the truth without any filter, but this wasn’t still Alexandria. “And I’m glad that you came to me to explain, but we don’t threaten people here.”

“We didn’t threaten anyone here.”

Rick’s eyes darted at her for a split second when she stated that, Deanna noticed. The young woman started standing up, but looking at Deanna, Rick didn’t. “I still need to talk to you about something.”

With a subsided sigh, Amanda sat back in her seat. Deanna looked back at him. “Guns. We need to carry our guns inside the walls.”

Deanna had to give it to him; Rick Grimes was one bold sonofabitch. He had the guts to ask her about that when he knew people were conspiring behind his back to excommunicate him. Deanna shook her head firmly. “No. You carrying a gun inside the walls is the last thing we need now.”

He didn’t look concerned during the whole conversation about Father Gabriel or the petition, just looking stern and grim much like he always did, but as soon as the words left his mouth, his anger flared. “This can’t do anymore. There’re walkers outside, thousands of them, not to mention the Wolves and you don’t even let me carry my gun!”

“I know your frustration, but the townspeople aren’t ready for it—” Deanna defended just like she’d discussed it with Aiden before. “We need to wait. Besides, your shooting class hasn’t started yet.”

“We don’t have time for that right now. We need to get over it.”

Deanna shook her head again. “No. If you start carrying the guns, then the others do, too, without proper training. It’s a call for disaster.”

His lover tossed at him a look too. “Deanna has got a point, Rick. We need to make sure first they know what they’re doing. Even you said so. Distributing guns like this is against every safety protocol.”

“Especially when things are like this—” Deanna completed it vaguely, deciding them to fill the blanks.

They couldn’t start a gun race too between the fractions inside the town. If Rick started carrying a gun, the others would feel more on the edge, started arming themselves too.

“We deal with the walkers in the quarry first, then you start taking them out for range practice, then we sit down all together and talk about this—” she offered another peace offering, reaching out the olive branch, Rick still stayed unconvinced, looking at her.

“I let you put the list, Rick—” Deanna reminded him. “It’s your turn now. It’s called comprise. We don’t need another conflict between you and townspeople.”

“Fine—” he clipped, standing up, too. “Until after the quarry.”

Deanna gave him a curt nod and watched them as they left the study.

After they left, Deanna opened her second drawer and took the camera inside it. She rummaged through the memory card until she found what she was looking for. She fast-forwarded the tape, and another Rick, filthier, grimmer, sterner, hard lines etched around his eyes, his grimace turning his lips down quickly played over the screen, the bushy beard, tore off bloodied clothes, dirty hands and all.

Deanna stopped the record and played it, resting her back in her seat, raising the camera in her hand over to her eyes. “You shouldn’t have let us in,” Rick told her again grimly from the screen. “You can’t know if I’m trusted or not.”

Deanna watched herself smiling at him, her lips pulling with the years of practice. “Rick, that’s what we’re trying to figure out. Don’t make mistakes. I don’t trust you. I trust Aaron. I trust his judgment. And Aaron says you’re still trying to be a good man—”

“Aaron doesn’t know me. I’ve killed people. I don't even know how many by now. But I know why they're all dead. They're dead, so my family can be alive. So I could be alive for them.”

Deanna stopped the record, rewound for a second, and watched it again… “So I could be alive for them.”

# # #

All things considered, Amanda supposed the talk with Deanna went well. Rick didn’t get what he’d wanted, but Amanda had never believed the older woman would have let them carry guns inside the walls now. Rick had still wanted to try, of course, but she hoped they at least put that behind, but then Rick stopped her while they trekked the armory to suit up before they met the other teams in front of the gate.

He pulled her inside the gazebo facing the pond. “We go out to the cabin after we turn back.”

Amanda let out a sigh. “Rick, there’s really no need for it. You heard her. We shouldn’t escalate things.”

“Things have already escalated, Amanda. Only you and me. Like we talked. No one else.” He leaned against the gazebo’s beam, looking at her. “I need to know you have a gun, too, in case that something happens.” He paused, his eyes turning heavier. “Amanda, please. I need to know you’re protected.”

Admitting defeat, Amanda nodded. The way he looked at her, almost desperate, eyes so intent, yet almost burning red…how she could say no to him. Apparently, it was something Amanda needed to work on it.

For more than one reason. She had let him kiss her in front of the community center, somehow just ending up in his arms after a fight! Then she almost said she would come again tonight to sleep with him just like last night. She’d said maybe, just couldn’t decline.

“All right,” she agreed, losing another battle. “But why do we need to go out? Why don’t we take one from the stash in the house?”

Carol had hidden three guns inside the house for emergencies. It was better than going out and take one from the cache in the woods, but Rick shook his head. “No. I want them in the house in case that something happens. Carol and the others still might need them. We take one for you from the stash in the cabin.”

Amanda nodded then, agreeing again.

They should start moving out now, they had less than a quarter to leave the grounds, but staring at each other inside the gazebo, they both didn’t. Rick took a step closer toward her instead, their chests almost pressing on each other. Her heartbeat hastening, Amanda lifted her head at him, feeling he was going to kiss her again.

She almost closed her eyes, cracking her lips open an inch, but Rick didn’t make a move. She blinked, closing her mouth quickly, feeling like a damn moron as she stared at him, heat burning her cheeks.

When Amanda searched over his expression to find amusement for her reaction, Amanda saw none. His brows were knitted, furrowing the end of the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps you should stay in today—” he slowly told her then.

A little sigh escaped from her. “Rick—”

He cut her off quickly. “It’s not like that,” he said. “I don’t try to protect you—” He stopped as Amanda frowned. “That didn’t come out right, huh?”

She shook her head. “I know I’ll contradict myself—” Amanda countered, a small smile jerking up her lips, “but no.”

Rick didn’t try to hold back his own. He smiled faintly at her. “Sorry. I just don’t feel good leaving the kids alone here when things are like this in the town. All of us are going out.”

“Carol stays—” she told him back. “She can take care of the kids.”

“Yeah. I know.” His eyes moved over hers again. “I just would feel better if you do too, but…” he trailed off.

“But?”

He bowed his head, shoving his hands into his pockets before he confessed with a low voice. “Uh…I feel better when you have my back, too.” 

Before she knew what she was doing, Amanda cupped his cheeks, her fingers sliding through his rough stubble and pressed her lips onto his then moved quickly and hugged him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulder blades tightly as she rested her head on the crook of his neck, leaning on him.

“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever told me, Rick—” she whispered to him.

His arms circled over her waist, bring her closer to him in response. “I’m sorry.”

Her head over his shoulder rose an inch, her eyes darting at him with a puzzled look. “For what?”

“For not telling you sweeter things.”

She smiled, resting her head back on his shoulder. “Well, they say it’s never too late to start anything.”

They both stilled in each other’s embrace, Amanda realizing what she’d just uttered out. It’s never too late to start…the words echoed in her as Rick buried his head on her shoulder too. “No, it’s not—” he muttered, breathing deeply, Amanda knew, her scent.

Was it really never too late? To try again? They’d screwed up their relationship so bad, but could they start over?

She drew back to look at him, her hand rising to gently stroke his cheek. His rough, hard skin with his stubble ran over her fingers, and Amanda realized how much she’d truly missed it, missed him.

Rick just looked at her, leaning against her touch before he took her hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed her fingertips lightly, just like he used to do before their breakup.

“You’ve got very beautiful eyes—” he told her, raising his eyes at her. “They’re so wide and green. They turn emerald, glinting sharply when you’re angry or damn too stubborn, and spark golden with light when you’re happy.”

“You really need to sharpen your game, Rick,” the teasing words left her without difficulty with a smile as she pulled her hand back. “You just told me I’m an open book to read.”

He smiled further at her. “I guess I just need to practice more.”

This time she couldn’t hold it back. She let out a burst of soft laughter. “Thy laugh is like nightingale’s song of spring, o fair lady—” Rick intoned with a heavy accent like in a Shakespearean play, “sweeter than honey and the lily of the valley.”

“Oh my god!” she gasped. “Did you just fake an English accent?”

With a sheepish half grin, he gently took her elbow. “Let’s go—” he led them out of the gazebo and toward the armory. “We’re gonna be late.”

Amanda tried to keep the grin that forced itself out of her from the armory to the gate, then on the road inside the van. She was together with Rick in the van, this time in the passenger seat, as Aiden and Heath followed them with RV with their people, Abraham and Rosita an old red muscle car with Sasha, Daryl riding Aaron’s bike ahead of them.

Tobin was with them this time, sat crossed on the bed of the van at the backside on the metal plates they were carrying to the quarry. Tobin volunteered, even though his name wasn’t on the top lines of her list and Rick had accepted. The idea was to reinforce the trucks with metal plates, before moving more cars to the overrun quarry would be more problematic than they’d expected.

The plates would do it until they could deal with them and properly close up the quarry. Amanda wished they could find a way to stop the dead dropping over the cliffs in the bowels instead, but like always, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Joan had wanted to come to before they left the town, seeing them leaving, but Amanda declined. There was no need yet. Joan hadn’t liked it, of course, but Amanda didn’t want to get into another discussion with Deanna about her, too. Beth hadn’t objected, staying on the watch with that young man Amanda had started seeing them paired up on the platforms.

As Rick drove, Amanda tried to focus on the road and what they had to do, not what she would do tonight. She tried to hush down the questions inside her but despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help her eyes spy sideways looks at him, a part of her already knew the answer, that she couldn’t stay in her room tonight. The anxiety, even though, she tried not to think about it, was still there, not even a damn herd could take it away from her because there was another question spinning in her mind.

Would they have sex this time if she stayed?

That part that knew that she couldn’t stay in her room was also saying yes, in fact, it was screaming yes! God, she’d so missed him, so missed him that even imaging Rick touching her again was making her core throb. It wasn’t only cold that had made Amanda squirm like that last night when Rick had touched her, his fingers slipping under her sweatshirt. She wanted it. She wanted to feel it again. The condom issue was still there, and there were going to have to do it without one if Rick didn’t find a package without her knowledge.

Amanda tried to tell herself it was okay. Rick could control it, and she was still on her cycle, couldn’t possibly get pregnant even if he didn’t. The thought itself brought another thought she wasn’t ready to face yet, either, the way she had felt like last night with Judy…

She caught herself again, thinking about the baby girl as Judy, not Judith. She made a low noise, turning her head away to the window as Rick looked at her. She shouldn’t think about such stuff. It…it was…absurd. They couldn’t. She shouldn’t think…think what?

Babies?

With Rick?

It was madness. Pure madness.

They couldn’t have a baby. It was selfish, irresponsible, bringing a child into a world like this. She loved Judith so dearly, but it wasn’t fair. Besides, Rick would’ve never wanted it, not after what had happened with his wife.

Amanda tried to suppress down a shudder, imagining the woman’s desperation and anguish, letting people cut you up to let your baby live… No. Rick would never want it.

Dammit, how they could even have a baby? They didn’t even have a relationship! They were still on a break!

And, Amanda had been thinking about sex and babies with him for full two minutes.

It must have been the time of the month, her damn hormones skyrocketing, and what she’d learned last night, toppling up together, messing up with her.

She forced out the thoughts away from her and focused on the job ahead. Sensing her sudden change in her demeanor, Rick leaned aside toward her. “Hey, everything okay?” he asked her.

Amanda wondered she had really become an open book like this, people reading her emotions over her face. “Yeah…” she muttered. “Just thinking.”

He threw at her another sideways look but didn’t comment further.

When they arrived, she first heard the damn scratching song, definitely not a nightingale song, but a lament of nightmares. The new arrivals’ faces soured listening to it after they parked outside the entrance. Their steps slowed when they heard Abraham’s curse.

“Fuck me good! Look at this—” Amanda turned with the others and saw Abraham pointing to a glass cache at the driveway beside the checkpoint.  A detailed map of the compound.

They marched to it, Rick already raising his ax. He shattered the glass and took the old map from the metal canvas. Laying it on the cracked, faded grey asphalt, they located all the exits, four at each direction, and divided the teams accordingly before they spread in the compound.

They mixed up Alexandrian’s between Abraham and Rick’s group, Daryl going with Aiden again. Aaron was with them as the recruiter claimed he knew the quarry’s whereabouts the best.

Tobin was walking ahead with Rick as Amanda had their backs. Between them stood Francine, Holly, and Heath, checking out the perimeters silently but dutifully.

The camp with the nightmarish song was even a worse sight in the broad daylight but in the dark they at least couldn’t see the demolition the quarry had to live. Their radios were to be silent until they found something else, so they eased further inside, death everywhere, snarls and growls stretching in their ears as they slowly cleaned up the perimeters.

Rick led them first toward the site that they had run over the roof of the containers last night. Their guns were silenced with silencers, so it was still a quiet business until at least the machine gunfire started.

Reaching out to his handheld radio, taking cover beside one of the containers, Rick hollered to it, “Who’s it? Report!”

“It’s us—” came the reply from Abraham. “The motherfuckers cornered us.”

“Give me your location,” Rick ordered, pulling out the rolled-up map he’d stashed under his waistline and lay it over the ground again as Amanda stood behind him, checking out around, making sure she had his back, just like he wanted.

“Next to the mess hall. A brick building, three stories—” His eyes never wavered from the map as Abraham gave the quick reply, checking the map to find the aforementioned place.

When he did, he talked to the radio again. “Daryl, you’re the closest. They moved toward southeast—” he said, “You need to go south.” Aiden and his team were at the north, as Rick and she had taken south, the direction closest to Alexandria.

“We’ve got a flare. We can light it up, too.”

“No, it would draw more attention to you—” Rick replied. “Keep it ready. If Daryl and Aiden can’t find you, light it up.”

Rick severed the connection and turned to them. “We need to move out. Clean these containers. Stay alert. Walkers are inside.”

“We do it one at a time—” Rick continued. “I open the door and we take care of them.” He shifted his eyes at her again. “Amanda, you have our back.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

They quickly moved into the information, two defense lines in a half arc. The courtyard was an open area, not like the narrow corridor in Grady when they did it, so Amanda sent both Francine and Holly to their flanks to guard their sides.

Before the first container finished, all the others had already started to try to push themselves into windows and the doors to break out. The radio creaked again, and they heard Aiden’s voice this time. “Met with Abraham. We’re retreating—” he informed briefly before the radio was silent again.

When they finished the cleaning up, there were only a few close encounters with the rotters, but no casualties. Amanda took it as a good sign, aside from the fact that they couldn’t clean the east side.

They met in front of the containers again. “This leads directly to Alexandria—” Rick pointed at the driveway across them, where the two trucks parked crisscrossed on the road. They could hear the snarls and growls from the other side better when the dead inside the containers had silenced.

“We need to secure this path first—” he continued. “We bring the plates and closed the space between the trucks.”

They worked on the trucks, taking out the plates and tools from their vehicles, and welded them on the trucks. It took more than a lot more effort than Amanda had anticipated, so before the sky started darkening above, Rick stopped them.

“The sun will set down soon. We return and come back tomorrow to deal with the other exits.”

No one wanting to stay in the place when it was dark, they all nodded. All in honesty, Amanda never wanted to return to this place, never wanted to hear that damn song of snarl and growls ever again, but that was their life now.

She told herself today was a good day. They didn’t lose anyone, no one was even injured. They lost the east side, but whatever. They dealt with it tomorrow. Amanda just wanted to return to the town now, calling it a day, and…sleep with Rick.

The desire was so strong in her, Amanda didn’t even try to find the conflict in her. She just wanted to crawl inside the bed with Rick and Judith, wrapped her arms around his as he spooned her, and slept.

Only they couldn’t do that, at least not yet, as Rick still would want to go out before it was fully dark and take the gun from the cabin, and they still would need to take a shift. For a moment or so, Amanda didn’t mind Rick rouse the town a bit further so that they didn’t need to force their ass off while some people just sat down and chilled around, sipping their cool iced tea.

Amanda told herself not to be bitter, but the feeling was there too. When they arrived in the town, Rick quickly took them out before anyone raised a question. A quarter later, he parked beside the side road closest, and they dived into the wildness once more.

Checking out the darkening sky, Amanda suppressed a yawn, raising her hand over her mouth as she leaped over a root. She’d turned aside from Rick, too, but he caught her. “Are you tired?” he asked, a frown setting up over his eyebrows.

“A bit—” Amanda said, trying to make her voice unaffected. “Long day.”

“Don’t take any shift tonight—” Rick told her when they saw the cabin in the woods. “Eat, then take a shower and rest.”

He didn’t tell her where exactly, leaving it open-ended. She considered for a second, then nodded. “Yeah—” she said as Rick crouched over the tree where they had buried the backpack under, lifting his head at her, startled.

Amanda knew he was surprised to see her admit his suggestion, she was half surprised herself too, but really, this would never work like this. “A volunteer from the list can take a watch perhaps. A rookie for a senior. They need to learn how to do it.”

They talked about it before, just how Amanda had started in the prison, but everything had started at all once. But they had to start somewhere. They couldn’t keep up like this. Amanda started fearing they would burn out themselves.

“And you too—” so she said, putting a definite tone in her voice. “Let someone have the nest tonight. Spencer is enough of a good shot. He was free today.”

“Nah. He’s not ready,” he objected, starting to dig the earth with the back of his gun’s butt. “Not in the dark.”

“Rick, you say they need to fight—” Amanda said. “But you don’t let them.”

He shook his head, his hands digging as he darted a look at her. “I can’t leave the lookout for the night to them. It’s too dangerous.”

“Rick—”

“Amanda, I can’t.”

She sighed but didn’t press further. Something black caught their eyes, and putting the gun aside, Rick started shoveling dirt aside with his hands, Amanda joining up to him. A few minutes later, they undug the black duffel bag.

“Perhaps we should move it to the cabin—” Amanda suggested idly, rubbing her hands over her pants. She was getting bored with digging up each time they came to this place.

Rick made a noncommittal noise, unzipping the bag. Amanda stood up. Suddenly, Rick’s hands halted. “What happened?” she asked, reading his tensing shoulders.

His jaw clenched too, as he started rummaging through the backpack. “One of the guns is missing—” he stated lowly.

“What?” Amanda mouthed out, crouching down again beside him. She grasped the bag from the other side too and looked inside. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. One of the Barettas—” he clipped, throwing the bag aside, standing up.

His back was so rigid as he turned back. Amanda reached out the bag again, but not before, his foot kicked it off angrily with a curse, his arms flailing. “Fuck it!”

Amanda snapped her head up at him, dropping her hand. “Rick, no one other than us knows about the backpack. Who could take it?”

“I don’t know—” he said tersely, turning to her again. “But it’s gone.” Bowing his head, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps someone tailed us when I took came here with Carl and saw us. We came out with Aiden and his team.”

She shook her head, standing up. “Why would Aiden steal a gun from you?  He would ask from his mother.”

“I don’t know, okay—” Rick berated, his voice turning more snappish, “I don’t know.” He pointed at the bag. “The thing I know is that the gun is gone.”

“Maybe it is Carl—” Amanda said after a brief pause, looking at him. “Y-you said he escaped from the town, right? Perhaps he came here to take a gun,” she mused aloud. She had no idea why, but she just couldn’t see Aiden and the others were tailing Rick until here.

Rick’s jaw squared even worse. “He asked me he could have a gun before we stole them from the party.” With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair. “Even if it’s Carl, why would he want a gun?”

“Why did you want a gun?” Amanda shot back as Rick sent her almost a glare. “He’s your son, Rick.”

Rick let out a low scoff, motioning at her with his head. “Let put this back and return to the town.”

Amanda bobbed her head. After giving her back her Glock, and taking two ammo packages, Rick buried the backpack again. “Are you going to talk with Carl?” Amanda asked when they returned to the car, and Rick started driving.

The knuckles of his left hand that held the wheel turning white, Rick made a gesture with his head Amanda couldn’t be sure what meant. “Not tonight. I can’t do it tonight—” he muttered.

Amanda softly reached to his right hand on the shift and laced her fingers through his. He drove the rest of the short way back in silence, their hands linked together. When he parked after he passed through the gate, he leaned in toward her quickly, taking his hand to touch her cheek.

“Go and rest now—” he whispered to her, giving her a light quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see ya…later.”

There again, an open-ended invitation. He stepped out of the car the next moment, as Amanda stayed in the car for a few minutes, the sky above them turning fully dark. Thinking about it for a few seconds, she left the car and went to find one of her best trainees.

It was a man in his mid-thirties, Steve Malkin, with a son around Mika’s age, and they lived next door to the elderly Johnsons. He never participated with the watches, but the man was enough capable, and she knew from the school and Mika, and elderly Johnsons that he and his family didn’t think like Carter Blake or Pete Anderson.

It was enough of a start for Amanda to begin with, so she headed their house and ringed the bell.

They were skeptical at first, the wife more than the husband, but Mr. Malkin conceded at last after Amanda explained. “I know this isn’t how we planned this—” she told him truthfully. “And I know it’s hard, especially at night, but we need help—”

It was funny how easy it came to her asking help from people, especially from strangers, when she refused each time Rick tried to do the very same thing for her, but Amanda was too damn tired for thinking on it now.

The olive-skinned man nodded, his expression concerned, but understanding. “All right. Let me put on something.”

Amanda nodded back. “Thank you. Glenn must be in the community center, preparing the shift. You can check in with him.”

After that, she padded toward the armory and checked out her weapons, minus one, which she’d hidden under her shirt at her waistline like Rick did. She seriously hoped they hadn’t made a mistake tonight.

They had found another common ground with Deanna. The town was in upheaval, but they were still managing. Even with Pete Anderson poked the hive further, they had no blame for this. Rick hadn’t started this. The damn bastard had threatened Rick.

Damn, she could’ve even asked Jessie to take a watch, much like Beatrice, both women were up in her score list, in front of many men, Beatrice was madly good with knives and blades because of her sculpting background and Jessie had this insane ability to read any scene and adapt herself. In the course, Amanda had prepared the few obstacles in a sort of puzzle to pass over without floundering around, and Jessie was one of the quickest people who figured it out.

But for obvious reasons, she didn’t do it, instead went to Steve Malkin. When Amanda returned to their houses, she lingered outside for a while, trying to decide what to do. She didn’t want to go to the other house, see the others, see the father, ignore them all, and pass the rest of the night alone with Cinnamon in the attic.

 Then she remembered she left Cinnamon at Rick’s after breakfast, so she sauntered there first. To take back Chinny, nothing else. She had missed her little kitten, too. Missed Judy too.

Judy.

Amanda let out a silent sigh, opening the screen door, and walked inside.

She kicked off her boots and trekked inside the living room in her socks. The others were all in the living room, Daryl and Joan sharing the couch this time, sitting close. Amanda wondered what was happening between them for the last, but she was too tired to talk about relationships too.

Beth was in the alcove with Cinnamon on the other side of Carol. “Just came from the watch—” the teenage girl told her before she inquired, “Where were you? The others arrived hours ago.”

“We went out to the cabin with Rick—” Amanda said shortly, her eyes turning toward Carl who sat down on the blankets with his sister, staying very silent, taking her baby tabby from Beth as the kitten jumped to her arms, sensing her presence. 

Judith wobbled over Carl’s leg, crawling over to her on the blankets, making a little voice, something close to Mandy, but Amanda was sure it was her imagination. “Maa—” the baby then cried out, raising her fisted hand with her bunny, calling out to her.

Calling out to her, calling really for her. She stopped short, frozen, her eyes stuck at the baby. “Is—is she?” she mumbled.

Carl looked at her. “We watched a movie tonight—” he said as Amanda knelt, putting down Cinnamon and taking up the baby girl who had crawled until her feet, forcing back tears. “There was a girl who looked like you. Light brown hair, green eyes. She called her Maa, too.”

She smiled, resting her back against the armchair, settling down Judy on her lap. “She calls me Kaa—” Carol said with a smile, winking at Carl.

Amanda passed her hand over the baby's forehead. “How was she today? Had fever?” she asked as Judith started gnawing on her bunny again, laying over her chest.

“Not much. But she’s still whinny.”

Amanda nodded absently, checking out the baby girl, her fingers moving over her forehead to her soft hair, smiling. “Bet you were angry at dada because he left you, huh, honey bunny?” she whispered, caressing her hair.

Judith munched on her toy, giving her shirt a stain on her chest as she did in response. Amanda smiled further at the baby girl, shaking her head, making up her decision.

Perhaps she’d already made it, but after seeing Judy…there was no way in hell she could leave tonight, not after this. Securing the girl over her elbow, she gathered up the blanket and her other stuff with her other arm and turned to Beth.

She let out a low breath, swallowing lightly over her throat, trying to keep her racing heartbeat in check. “Beth, can you take Chinny upstairs for me?” she asked, hoping her voice came out serene, not trembling. “I’m coming in a minute.”

There was no need for which room she meant for, and Beth didn’t ask for further clarification, either. With a small smirking smile, “Sure, why not.”

Why not, indeed?

No one made a word, only Carl giving her a silent look. Amanda left the living room, muttering a good night, and went to the kitchen. She prepared Judy’s water bottle, sitting her in the highchair, and made herself a light sandwich before she went upstairs.

Cinnamon was alone in the master bedroom, already finding herself a spot on the bed, and Amanda smiled, seeing it. “Wasting no time, Chinny. Really.” She laughed, walking to Judy’s mini crib. “What would people think?”

She put down the baby in the crib and shifted her look at her mini charges. “You both behave, ‘kay? I’ll be right back.”

Judy made a soft puff, putting her bunny in her mouth, Cinnamon meowed lazily. Amanda waved her hand at them, trekking over to the bathroom. She left the door open, to hear inside as she shredded off her clothes. She didn’t even have her toothbrush with her but stripped naked, she used the wash mouth in the bathroom, and rubbed her teeth with the pad of her index finger. As she looked at the towels in the drawers before she hopped in the shower, she saw an unopened toothbrush, the small hotel-type toothbrushes you kept in the house for guests. She smiled at it, and without a thought, she brushed her teeth properly opening it, and put it inside the mug beside Rick’s bigger one.

Seeing them together like that would’ve made her feel…she didn’t know, odd, but instead of it, Amanda thought of finding a baby toothbrush for Judy as she stepped in the shower and adjusted the water. The baby bunny might need it soon.

She quickly washed her hair and herself and left the room. Her waiting company was in the same way she had left them, only sitting on her puffy bottom with her diaper, Judy looked a bit frustrated. Her hair coiled inside the towel, she trotted to Rick’s cabinet and found Rick’s pajamas again.

She always could go and borrow something from Beth, but Amanda didn’t do it. She wanted Rick’s pajamas. They smelled of him, and she liked it. Judy made a soft puff toward her, raising her tiny hand. “Maa—”

“I’m comin’, honey—” Amanda called out back. “Just gimme a sec.”

Fast, she retrieved Rick’s pajama bottom, a shirt, and a sweatshirt from the closet, and changed into them. They were light and way too big for her, but heating systems were working just fine. She jogged toward the crib. “Here I am—” she took up the baby girl, and turned her aside, whisking the smell.

“Uh—” she mouthed out. “What did they feed you, cupcake?” she asked, putting the baby on the bed beside Cinnamon as she grabbed her backpack and found clean diapers and changing mat.

Like female pads, the town had diapers, so they didn’t need to clean sheets anymore, a fact Amanda was very happy. The town was short in supplies for condoms, but-

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Amanda forced it away from him. She wasn’t going to think about it, nope. She had no idea what was going to happen, what she wanted, what she was ready for, but she didn’t want to mule over it anymore. They were just going to see.

Once again, Amanda was riding the tide, but she hoped it worked better this time.

Rolling Judy over the changing mat, she changed her diaper, disposed of the smelly one, quickly running to downstairs to the kitchen, leaving Judy in the crib again, and ran back to the master bedroom, this time feeling really awkward despite her newfound careless state of mind.

When she returned to the room without any encounter, she let out a breath, uncoiling her hair. She quickly combed her hair, dry toweling it, too tired to dry blow it, and came back inside. She looked at Judy who lay down in her crib.

“Tired?” she asked, leaning down over the railings to softly massage her tummy. “Me too. Let’s go to sleep.”

Judith had already eaten before Amanda came, and the sandwich was enough for her. She just wanted to sleep now, but not before she did something—something she always wished to do for Judith in the woods.

They did it later after they came to Alexandria, but never liked this. Amanda wanted to read to the baby girl before sleep. No one had ever read to her before sleep when she was a child, and even though she was sure Rick did, Amanda wanted to do it, too.

She checked the drawer at the foot of the crib, surfing through her baby books they found from the daycare, but she couldn’t find the Very Hungry Caterpillar. She checked Judy’s backpack, the penny dropping, and found it inside.

Of course.

With a winning smile, Amanda pushed up to her feet. “Found it—” She leaned over the railings again, showing the baby the book. “Wanna read the hungry caterpillar?”

Judith squeaked. “Dada!”

“Hmm mm—” she hummed, reaching out to take the baby girl up again, still holding the book. “Let’s find out what dada is up to.”

They settled in the bed, Judith laying over her bosom as Amanda read, angling the book in her hands so the baby girl could see it. Cinnamon slithered toward them over the covers, before she curled up beside Amanda’s hip, starting purring. It was so warm, wrapped around her kitten and Judy, she felt herself melting in the mattress, her eyes drooping heavily.

With a yawn, she closed the book, leaving it on the bed stand beside the book she had brought back for Carl. Rick must be reading it now. It brought a small smile on her lips as Amanda put down Judy beside her on the bed. She just couldn’t leave the baby girl in the crib now, couldn’t leave her warmness. But she still had to leave the bed quickly for a second and move the sofa at the foot of the bed like Rick did to secure Judy between the crib and the bed, stuffing the space with spare pillows.

Satisfied with her reinforcements, she quickly climbed back over Cinnamon and slipped under the covers again. When she turned off the bed lamp, letting only faint moonlight fill in the room, Judy already had closed her eyes.

Her hand first touched the baby’s belly before she brushed her lips over her forehead, “Good night, honey bunny—” Her other hand found Cinnamon too, passing her fingers over her tiny head as her kitten purred.

“Good night, Chinny—” she murmured, resting herself on the pillow, closing her eyes. Her last thought before she went to sleep was when Rick and she would read together again or watch another movie, lazily lounging in the bed.

When Amanda opened her eyes again, she blinked against the dim sunlight, the room veiled under a golden haze, light sparkling through the long windows. Cinnamon made a squeak as the bed creaked.

“Meow.”

Amanda heard a low chuckle as Rick slipped behind her as she flickered her eyes to the closed door. There was a part of her drowsy mind with sleep that wondered how he could pass behind her barriers like this quietly, but she didn’t bring herself wonder any further when his arms took her in his embrace.

He pulled her against his chest. Amanda moved willingly, letting her body be drawn. “This’s more company than I was waiting for—” he muttered to her ear, his breath tingling over her skin.

“Do you mind?” she murmured thickly, pressing herself into him further.

His arms tightened over her. “Not at all.”

He was still in his clothes like last night, and Amanda didn’t mind. Cinnamon was slithering beside their feet, she could still sense, and Rick was so warm—his hands. They were so warm, unlike last night.

“Your hands—not cold—” she mumbled.

Rick chuckled again in a low, deep sound so much that Amanda even felt his chest vibrating against her back. “Found gloves. Didn’t wanna jump ya off with icy fingers.”

Opening her eyes fully, she turned her head toward him over her shoulder. “Did you know I would come?”

“I didn’t know—” he answered in a whisper, leaning in over her lips. “I just hoped.”

She twisted in his arms as he started kissing her. Her arm wrapped over his neck, her leg sliding over his. Despite their tangled bodies, their kiss was still slow and sweet, lingering, passionate but not lustful.

Her blood was drumming inside her ears, everything swirling inside her, but she shut it off, just stayed in the moment, living it, living their kiss, enjoying his closeness, his warmness, his touch, his callous fingers slipping under her shirt and gently stroking her before they curled around her breast. Amanda trembled, her hand vanishing in his hair, moaning into his mouth.

Rick rolled them over, flipping her on her back, mounting over her. His weight pinned her down as Amanda felt something clinked in her. Her hand eased down and joined to the other as Amanda started unbuttoning his shirt, nestling him between her legs.

Cinnamon jumped down from the bed with their movements, she vaguely realized. She wanted to chide him for coming to bed like this for a second, but Cinnamon jumping off the bed made her remember Judy.

She slid her hand over his rough cheek, turning her head aside to check the baby, then back at him. “Take Judy to the crib—” she whispered to him softly, staring at him openly.

There was no misunderstanding of her words, and his blue glinting eyes grown more intense, Rick gave her a half quick nod. “’Kay.”

Rick gently raised the baby, shushing her down before he put down the stirring baby. Judy made a soft protest first but went back to sleep after Rick calmed her down.

Amanda wished the baby girl stayed like that at least for a while when Rick started striding back to the bed. He stood at the edge of the bed behind the sofa Amanda had pulled up and started unbuttoning himself further, still gazing at her.

Amanda didn’t run her eyes away. His shirt peeled off, he unbuckled himself and shed them off, too, only staying in his underwear. Sunlight was dappled across his creamy skin, and there was light dampness over his treasure trail that was glinting as Amanda trailed her gaze over it. God, she wanted to do much more than that, much more than just looking at him.

His eyes still on hers, Rick crawled over the sofa and the bed and came at her side again.

Watching his movement laying on her back, Amanda followed him as Rick dipped his head, still staring at each other, but he didn’t kiss her.

“Do ya want it?” he asked in a whisper, resting himself on his elbow, hovering above her, inches away, but he didn’t take the last leap to close the little distance between them. “If—if you ain’t ready—”

“I don’t want to stop—” she cut him off quietly, and confessed, “I want to be with you.”

Sliding to her closer, Rick dipped his head and rested his forehead on the crook of her shoulder. Amanda could almost feel his heart pulse against her chest. “I don’t have condoms—” he roughed out thickly. “If—”

“It’s ‘kay. Y-you can control it, right?” she asked.

His head lifted to look at her. “Yeah—” he murmured. “Are ya sure?”

She looped a nod. “I—I’m not in my ovulation circle. If you’re worried—”

His hand touched her cheek, stopping her. “I’m not worried.”

Amanda gulped thickly, staring at him as Rick dipped his head again, this time to kiss her without hesitation.

He was still so gentle, supporting his weight on his elbow while they slowly kissed, his other hand sliding under her shirt again. It traveled up and curled around her breast as Amanda moaned deeply in his mouth, feeling his callous palm over her nipples, his fingers rubbing her swelling softness.

Amanda coiled her arms around his neck in response and dragged him further over on her. God, how much she had missed this sensation, missed this, missed him.

One hand trailing down over his back, Rick trembled slightly when her fingertips ran over his spine. “Rick—” she moaned, moving her head over his neck, rubbing her nose under his ear, where she knew his scent would be the most prominent so she could smell him more. “I so missed you.”

“Missed you, too, baby—” Rick murmured, his hands tugging at her shirt, leaving her breast. Understanding his wish, Amanda quickly raised her arms and let him take it off.

Throwing it off on the ground, Rick bowed his head between her breasts, his lips trailing over soft flesh between them. His mouth sucked on each nipple as his curious hands mapped her, Amanda arching against him with each stroke, trembling, her own hands running over his back and his sides.

“Rick—” she moaned softly, tossing her head back on the pillow. “Rick…” His hands slid down over her curves and found the waistline of her pajamas as Rick crawled up along her and started kissing her again.

His fingers tucking inside her waistline, he gently eased the pajama bottom down over her hips, along with her panties while his lips never stopped kissing her. As her feet kicked off her panties and pajama bottom, her own hands found his boxer briefs and shed them down. Her core was throbbing with desire and need. For him. She wanted him. She wanted him to make love to her, wanted to have this with him, passionate love.

“Rick—” she murmured again, circling her legs around his hips when he was as naked as her. “I-I want to make love—” she whispered to him, words leaving her before she knew it.

The next thing she knew Rick was kissing her madly, but not like the savage beast in the attic, just kissing her as if he really needed it, as if he couldn’t live if he didn’t do it, and she could really feel his heartbeat against her naked skin.

Her head tossed back, Amanda saw sunlight sparkling around them, slowly capering in a haze. Everything felt prolonged, slurred in time. Arching against him, moaning into his mouth, Amanda pressed herself over his bulge, to feel his heat more. She wanted him there, inside her, filling her, naked, unprotected, unguarded, nothing between them, not even latex. Just them. Together. Truly completing each other.

This is us.

His words echoed in her as Rick rubbed himself over her folds, turning her even madder with desire and need. Her hands clawed at his shoulder blades, drawing him onto her further.

“Rick—” she whispered, moving her head aside to free her lips. “Can’t take it anymore. Please.”

He pulled back an inch to stare at her, his hand in her hair, sliding down over her neck and he cupped her cheek again as he thrust his hips.

It was such a shallow, teasing move, but there was no smile over his face as he gazed at her down, his thumb gently stroking her cheek as his cock stroked over her entrance. She arched her back, a tremor passing over her with the sensation, letting a bit louder moan.

Rick’s hips pushed another inch, and Amanda let out a hitched breath time, tossing her head back. His thumb was still sliding over her cheek as Rick continued to push inside her, so slowly, an inch with every little thrust.

He tipped his head again, his hot breath tingling over her lips. “I’m gon’ make love to ya, baby—" he murmured to her, finding her eyes again. “Do ya wanna it?”

“Yeah…” she murmured.

“Tell me what ya want—” he asked her in that rough voice, Amanda looking at him mesmerized. “Tell me how ya want it—”

“Slow…” she moaned back. “I want it slow.”

“And sweet…” he whispered to her, his fingertips stroking her cheek as his hips thrust another inch in her. “You like sweet—”

“Ah—” she moaned, her fingers digging into his back as he filled her further. His length burned inside her, and when she felt her core throb with need and clenched around him, Rick shuddered.

His hand tightened in her hair, his face straining, and his low breaths came out roughly. Amanda recognized the exertion he put on to keep himself under control, and she tried to keep herself still giving him the moment he needed.

“Lie down your legs—” he ordered a few seconds later, his voice a deep, thick rasp. “Place them beside mine.”

She followed his instructions as he moved up along her body, sheathing himself in her fully. Amanda couldn’t find words to describe how it felt having him like this again in her depths, feeling his heat, or how much she’d truly missed it.

His body stilled, tightening his grip on her even further, his head bowed over her shoulder again, and he looked like he was fighting over his self-control even worse, breathing deeply out of his nose. He closed his eyes before muttering out, his hips rocking for a fraction as if he wanted to try something—

Amanda trembled—the way he’d aligned their bodies, it just hit something inside her just the right way. She wasn’t sure what they were doing, he was half grinding over her, half thrusting in her with rocking motions, Amanda had never done this before, but it worked amazing—so amazing. Her moans were low, and Rick was still gazing at her deeply with each stroke.

He glided over her, slowly rocking, thrusting, and Amanda trembled again, hiding her head at the side of his face to keep herself silent, vaguely realizing her clitoris was stimulated with his every move.

She started grinding at him in a rhythm, trying to catch up with him and soon they synchronized in perfect harmony. They were still so quiet, no race, no rush. It reminded her of the time they did this here in the same bed before she stopped them getting scared, it'd been so intimate, so powerful, but there was no fear in her anymore as she rocked along with Rick with languorous moans and gasping breaths.

And Amanda wanted more, more of this. More of him. She wanted to take him further into her, be one with him… “Baby, more—” she moaned to him, demonstrating the desperate need that was building in her as she arched against him. “Please, more!”

Rick did it, hitting her spot in a faster rhythm. “Oh, god, so good—” Amanda gasped out, her hair spread over her sweaty skin, plastering on her cheeks and filling her open mouth as she tossed her head on both sides. “Baby, so good…”

His eyes caught hers again, as his hand found hers on the bed and his fingers laced through hers. “Yeah?”

Amanda nodded, looking back at him in the eye. “Yeah. You feel so good...” She closed her eyes, tossing her head back, tightening her fingers through his. “We do it together—” she asked, ordered, begged, she didn’t know…she couldn’t decide. Didn’t even know for sure what she was asking for anymore.

But when she opened her eyes again, Rick was looking at her as if she did, as if he understood what she wanted. “We will, babe—” he whispered to her ear, his breath hot against her skin as he gave her another stroke that made her twist on the bed, her free hand clawing the sheet as Rick still held her other hand tightly in his.

She let out another lingering moan. Rick hastened his pace, driving her further over the edge, his grunts growing rougher as beads of sweat over his hairline made his hair clinging to his forehead. They hushed into silence after that not to wake up Judith, Rick’s face strained so much with his self-control. Her climax was swelling like a giant wave in her, and her body arched back like a drawn bow, but she still needed more.

Amanda whispered to his ear his name, trying to find his intense blue eyes again. She wanted to see him, she wanted to see him as they made love to each other like this. This is us…

“Rick…” she gasped out quietly, his words vibrating through her. This was them, not the garage, not the drunken neurotic bouts, not fucking her like a savage beast but this, making passionate love like this with no barriers between them.

She forced out his name between her thick deep moans a couple of times more, her eyes glued on his, raising her legs to circle them around his waist further to take him deeper inside her before her body started contracting, a long lingering moan spilling out of her.

Rick grunted her name back, synchronized with her as Amanda gnawed on his shoulder to silence herself, her hips starting fluttering out of her core, Rick’s hips stuttering, and it felt so amazing, Amanda clenched her legs tighter moving along with him as she rolled over the edge.

She heard him vaguely calling out her name through a haze as her climax peaked, her body shattering. Rick was trying to move, move away from her, but Amanda didn’t let him. She didn’t want him to leave her, not again, never again. It felt so lonely without him, so stark, so cold, so empty. She never wanted to feel like that ever again.

She tightened her legs and arms over him. “Don’t go—” she slurred out in a whisper, barely audible, but Rick heard it as he stilled. “Stay with me.”

His gaze found hers before he lost control, and his body began shuddering as he started coming inside her.

When their tremors finished, her legs still wrapped around his waist, feeling the wetness inside her depths, they stared at each other, Rick still inside her.

Notes:

Uh-huh. I really hope you didn't think I would've left it without making things more complicated for them, hehe. Now, this is the question... Will Amanda get pregnant....? Hehe.
I've been carrying them over to this point since the beginning, really, Rick came so close to come inside her before, especially in their first time, so this thing has been here quite a while, as they're also a very sexually dysfunctional couple... Poor things. They both broke down during sex many times as I wanted to explore sexuality in their harsh times, how it would reflect their characters. Honestly, I didn't plan it to happen like this, but you know...Amanda and Rick never listen to me. In the end, Amanda just refused to let him go. 'Stay with me' is again a part of Waiting for Godot exchange I mentioned before, Amanda and Rick's relationship is really built on this, and this is something I had discussed so muuuuch with DarkTidings as we planned her own story and the Edge, too. I even thought of making Amanda telling Rick 'Don't leave me', but 'Stay with me' just sounded better to me.

Needless to say, Judith and Amanda...and Cinnamon. I so wanted to write those sections, all of them together alone, waiting for Rick :) If you read Adaptation and its sequel, you also would know how much it means for Amanda to have Rick's baby, so that also gotta start... I will still play with it in the next book as it's one of Amanda's biggest cornerstones.

And, that little poem Rick told Amanda... I wrote it myself! The things I do for stories... I even wrote a little poem, hehe. I was going to make Rick quote a little thing from Song of Solomon, but the odds of Rick, who is a very southern midtown boy, knowing a very archaic Hebrew text is like...none, so I had to do it myself. It just cracks me up Rick faking an English accent too, calling Amanda 'lily of the valley' Hehe. A proper southern gentleman. :p

I really hope to see you soon again, finally finishing the book and coming back, really! In the meantime, like always, don't forget to tell me what you think, and keep me company. You know how much I like it! Ciaociao!

Chapter 39: 'Just say the word'

Summary:

When Daryl asks Joan a question, the former nurse decides to finish the little game between them. Amanda and Rick have scares of an unplanned pregnancy separately.

Notes:

Oh my god! I did it, ALMOST!
I swear, my head is about to explode now, writing the finale part, but I'm 'almost' done, yay!
I can't help myself, things blowing out of proportion, lol, but really, this has been the case with this story from the beginning, hehe. Things getting out of my control :)
I think it's safe to say I'll try to follow up a 2-3 weeks updating schedule from now on, as I try to post the new chapters and write the next book at the same time.
Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Daryl left the house telling them he was going to check outside after Amanda went upstairs. Dutifully, Joan stood up and left with him. She was getting bored with the movie Mika had chosen, and there was that thing inside her that made her…not wanting Daryl to go anywhere without her after she’d realized she didn’t want him to go to D.C.

It wasn’t a problem until recently. Daryl had been mostly spending his time with her, taking her out to the woods or staying with her in the infirmary to learn stuff from her before they learned about those men and that damn quarry. Now, he was out for two days without her, and Joan wasn’t sure if she like it.

“Are you gonna go to the quarry tomorrow again?” she asked as they settled on the back deck. Above them, a lonely faint light was coming from the master bedroom on the second floor and it made her realize that Amanda was still upstairs.

“Yeah—” Daryl mumbled, perching on the steps as Joan sat in front of him in her usual place. He put down his bolts and his crossbow and started tending them. “Why ask?” he asked, taking a bolt.

Joan shrugged.

No one had mentioned her for the teams. Joan hadn't minded it a lot, if she had to be honest again, as she had already accepted that she wasn’t too big on the ‘saving the day’ deal. But still, there was a part of her that felt…excluded again, and that made her feel…she didn’t know honestly how that made her feel. Joan knew none of them wanted another conflict with Deanna after learning about the petition to get rid of Rick, so Joan once again had stayed on the sidelines not to upset another leader.

And that was making her disturbed, angry, even though she wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of leaving town aside to look for herbs. She tried to tell herself things were different now, she was different now, but sneaky voices in her mind were still there, even though Joan tried to ignore them.

His fingers passing over the green feathers on the bolt, Daryl raised his eyes at her and asked again. “Why?”

He usually never insisted, never asked something twice, so Joan slightly narrowed her eyes, giving him a look. There was another part of her that wanted to say ‘because you’re going out’ and Joan didn’t like it, didn’t like him being out there without her, but it sounded ridiculous even in her mind, so she settled with an answer much more objective.

“You’re moving too large now,” she remarked coolly. “Four teams by five people. If something happens, you need a medic with you.”

He lopped his head, raising the bolt. “Yeah.” He paused for a second, his baby blue eyes catching hers. “We can take Bob.”

 Joan narrowed her eyes further. “You might.”

They lured into a silence, Daryl setting the bolt beside him before taking another one. As he checked the feather, touching the tip of his finger with the tip of his tongue, he slowly said, “Aaron found me after we returned from the quarry.”

Joan looked at him in question. She couldn’t see what the town’s recruiter would want from Daryl Dixon. “And?”

“He told me after we finish with them motherfuckers and Deanna gives him green light again t’find people, he wants me to go out with him.”

Her eyes widened. “He wants you to be a recruiter for the town?”

“Yeah—” Daryl replied with a shrug. “Told me he didn’t want to risk his husband further.”

Joan’s face stiffened. “So he wants to risk you?” she clipped.

Daryl shrugged again. Her eyes searching through his as he looked away from her, busying himself with the bolts, Joan asked, “What did you say?”

He gave her another shrug, and Joan didn’t expect a direct answer to come, but it did. “Didn’t say nothin’”

“Why?” Joan whispered back.

His eyes found hers again before he answered her. “Wanted to ask ya first—” he told her openly, roughing the words over his tongue. “Do you wanna me?”

Her heart started beating madly in her chest as Joan understood what the words meant. I don’t want you to go. He hadn't said anything before talking to her. The gesture and its meaning swelled her madly beating chest further, but her lips pulled out into a small smile.

They still hadn’t talked anything about that thing between them, still stuck in that weird limbo state, but here Daryl Dixon—making a move in his way. It was still hard to explain what they had, hard to label it, aside from a small kiss, they hadn’t done anything romantic or sexual, but Carol was right about that. Daryl was nothing like the men Joan ever knew.

Deep down, even though he never said a word about it, Joan knew the fact that no one had given him a job yet was disturbing him. He did stuff, took watches, did almost everything they asked him to do, but Daryl hadn’t been officially appointed to a job like most of them.

They all had their assigned jobs, but not Daryl, and suddenly it angered Joan, him being treated that way. “He should’ve asked you long before—” she bit off, her voice heating.

Taken aback with her abrupt change in demeanor, his crossbow and bolts beside him now untouched, Daryl regarded her closely, but without comment. “Finding people, it’s what you are, Daryl. I think you’d make a great recruiter.”

His head bobbed, looking at her. “Ya think so?”

Joan nodded in certainty. “Yeah, I think just like that.” She stopped, looking back at him, but looping his head in another nod, Daryl picked up another bolt and started inspecting it.

Making her mind, Joan slithered toward him on the steps. He’d finally done a move. So perhaps she should give him a nudge further now.

“It’s getting late—” she remarked, stopping just beside his hip, her voice dropping into a husky whisper. She stared at him openly, but even though his shoulders tensed at her approach, he didn’t move his attention away from the bolt he was inspecting. “Are you taking a watch tonight?”

Amanda had returned, but Rick hadn’t, so Joan wanted to know.

Daryl jerked his head, his fingers checking a split in the length of the bolt. “Naw. Mine is in the mornin’—” he roughed out, eyes still trained dutifully on his work.

Joan passed her fingertips over the soft green feathers, tipping her head down to catch up his eyes. His face was as tensed as his shoulders, and he looked like he was trying to escape from her again, but this time Joan didn’t let him.

“Daryl—” she called out to him softly. “I think we should go to the garage now.”

Her words were so open, his head snapped up at her, his tensed look turning to a startled one. Joan didn’t back down but stared at him.

They looked at each other for a few seconds, then without a word, he bowed his head and returned to his business.

Something pierced through her heart with the dismissive gesture, and her eyes welled. She swallowed. “I don’t understand—” she muttered, this time her voice wasn’t husky to seduce, but hoarse because of trying to hold back her tears. “Don’t you—don’t you find me attractive?”

Once more his head snapped at her. His cheeks were flushed now, and he looked shy and ashamed as he noticed her glistening eyes. “Ya ‘re a beautiful woman, Joan.”

“Then what’s the problem?” she asked, getting confused, then she frowned a little. “Do-do you like girls, right?” she asked.

It was a little doubt in her mind suddenly popped out, even though she didn’t think so. There was this air between them that Joan felt clear, and it was too loaded with sexual tension for him to rock his boat in the opposite direction. His lack of response but sharp glower as his head snapped at her told her the same, too.

She felt a heat rising out of her, but suddenly Carol’s words also flashed in her mind. He’s not like the men you’ve known.

Perhaps he truly wasn’t. “Daryl, do you—” she started, but stopped, not knowing how to ask. “Is it—uh—” She halted again as he kept gazing at her, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Letting out a breath, Joan decided to bite the bullet. She’d already started anyway. “Does everything work fine down there?”

She darted a look at his crotch to make her point clearer.

His baby blues turned frosted, his face getting angrier. “Jesus, woman! When a man doesn’t wanna fuck ya, he gotta be gay or eunuch?”

Holding back her temper, Joan regarded him. Perhaps not very tactful, yeah, but it was a very legitimate question. He’d been running away from her like a plague for weeks now. “Carol told me you aren’t like the men I know. And you’ve been avoiding the thing between us for weeks,” she defended herself. “I had to assume.”

“I ain’t impotent—” he hissed, throwing the bolt away from the little staircase. “And I do like girls.”

Then what’s the problem?”

He stayed silent, turning away from her on the step, and spreading his legs, he linked his hands in the air between them. He stared down, not answering her. Joan gently touched his upper arm. “Daryl—”

Cutting her off, Daryl twisted aside toward her. “Never did this before.”

She blinked a few times. “Are you vir—”

He cut her off. “Nah. Just never had a girlfriend—” he corrected.

Ah. Her eyes traveled up and she checked the master bedroom. “Well, Amanda claims she never had a boyfriend before, too, but look how she’s doing now—” she commented, returning her gaze to him.

 Joan made another move, and he didn’t pull back. They got closer to each other. Joan leaned in as he dipped his before their lips touched each other. They kissed for a while lazily, without hurry, before she stopped it. She passed her hand through his unkempt hair, smiling. “Can we please go to the garage now?”

This time he didn’t make her repeat. He stood up, taking her hand as with the other picking up his crossbow. “Take the bolts—” he told her before they left the steps and walked toward the garage.

It was a short path, so in a minute they arrived. Daryl let her hand go, fishing a key out of his pocket. Her insides bursting with anticipation, Joan waited. When they stepped inside, and he closed the door behind them, Joan twirled around and pushed him against the door.

Her lips were already on his, her hands sliding up over his neck toward his hair, Joan could do this forever. His hands moved down over her back and circled over her waist.

He was almost clumsy, hesitant, and awkward as he ran his hand over her jacket, but Joan felt his desire, bulging against her. He wanted her as much as Joan did. It was a weird experience, but perhaps Carol was right, he wasn’t like the men she knew.

She wondered what was going to come out from underneath—what was his secret, because people didn’t act like Daryl did without a reason. Joan wouldn’t have cared, but it felt different now. She wanted to estrange herself from any romantic affiliation until him because of what had happened in Grady, so she wondered what his secret was, too, now.

Joan wanted to know it. Wanted to know everything about him. “Daryl—” she whispered at him, pulling herself a bit away from him. “W-will you ever tell me?”

A part of her thought something had happened to him as a child. Joan knew he was a neglected child, all his demeanor and little tidbits he had shared offhandedly suggested that, but Joan feared the worst. She knew he was abused, too, she just felt it, perhaps the scars people left on them had recognized each other, but she hoped he wasn’t abused like she was.

Getting her closer to himself again, he buried himself against her neck. “Don’t need’t tell it—” he roughed out. “Ya gonna see.”

He flicked the lights on in the garage and moved away. Joan blinked a few times, but instead of wondering what his words meant, she followed him. He took off his leather vest, angel wings, and all and threw it on the low bed in the garage.

The place was scare, sparsely furniture, and it had a workbench that had a few motor parts on it. Aaron had a broken bike that Daryl had fixed and started using. There was a little cabinet, and a small table, and nothing else. As Daryl started taking off his shirt at the foot of the bed, turning his back to her, Joan started thinking of a way to get him inside the house.

They didn’t have a spare room, but Daryl living here in the garage—no. Joan didn’t like it, either. Her eyes found him again as he shed off his shirt, and all the thoughts in her halted.

Joan realized what he had meant when he told her she was going to see it.

There was a wide black tattoo from his right shoulder blades to his side, something big, black, and with wings, but it wasn’t what made Joan stop breathing. The middle of his back and the left side of his shoulders were mapped with scars; deep, furious, old scars, crisscrossing each other or running over each other in direct lines.

Being a surgical nurse made her apathetic for wounds and scars, cutting up people for a living tended to do that, but seeing them etched on his skin, on the man…she cared a lot, made her breath hitch. Being a nurse also made her have very educational guesses how such scares could be done, they were too clean, too precise, done by someone who knew what he was doing precisely. By the look of them, she could even tell they dated decades ago.

Her heart ached as Daryl returned to him bare-chested. His chest was free of scars, just a few scratches, and bruises. He must have fallen on his side when he was outside because there was a soft green purple area over his kidney. He was also looking at her as if he was waiting for her reaction, but Joan didn’t have one.

They all had scars now. Daryl’s were just carved on his skin whereas hers stayed hidden. She walked to him and kissed him again. A second later, they fell on the bed.

It was a stir that made Joan jolt up from sleep. She made a protest, sliding her arm across the naked chest under the bedcovers, stopping Daryl’s movement. His strong arms felt amazing wrapped over her body, feeling the tense muscles, enfolded in his distinctive scent. The garage had become even colder, but the company was keeping her warm enough. Another thing Joan wouldn’t have thought of Daryl Dixon, being such a nice live-size teddy bear, but Daryl had been making her surprised more and more since last night.

A smile spreading her lips wide, she made another low protest when Daryl tried to move again, then he let out a faint chuckle when her arms tightened further.

Joan lifted her head from his chest, surprised once more. He’d been very restrained at first, having that awkwardness, but he got over it before they drifted to sleep, exhausted. Though Joan still wouldn’t have expected them to end up tangled like this.

Somewhere in the sleep, she must’ve done it, and apparently Daryl didn’t mind it. A surge of joy filled her as she shook her dark curls and put back her head on his chest. “Gotta go,” he roughed out a murmur to her ear, “My shift begins—”

“Can’t someone else take your shift this morning?” she asked, cutting him off. “Amanda asked someone else to take hers last night.”

The former police officer had spent the night inside the house last night, asking someone else to take the watch, so perhaps Daryl can take this morning off too before they left for the quarry. They’d been waiting such a long time. She guessed they deserved it.

Besides, that list they had pinned on the billboard in the community center had a lot of names, and the townspeople might start pulling their weight too, stopping being dependent on the others.

It reminded her Jessie Anderson, and Joan felt the same ire again for the woman’s pragmatist yet submissive approach to her situation. It wasn’t going to end well for her, and Joan still felt like they had to do something, even though the woman was refusing their help.

The memory of the backhand landing on her cheek tried to slide over her barriers again, but tightening her arms over the warm body beneath her, Joan shoved it away. No. She wasn’t going to think about those times anymore. She was not. The past should stay in the past.

But she still wanted to help Jessie Anderson. The history wasn’t going to repeat itself this time. They would change it. They would change it together. Jessie Anderson’s name was on the top of the list. Amanda would’ve never put it there if she didn’t believe it.

They had to talk to her again. Make the scared woman understand. What she played wasn’t going to end well. Her douchebag for a husband would never respect her until she earned it herself.

“Hey—ya ‘kay?” Daryl asked, his heavy eyes looking at her now under his dipped head.

Joan bobbed her head. “Yeah. Just thinking about Jessie Anderson.”

Daryl let out another low chuckle. “Ain’t what I was expectin’, woman.”

She bumped her hand on his shoulder playfully. “Not like that, don’t worry—” she cooed. “Amanda put her on her list yesterday,” she remarked after a brief pause, twisting in his arms to face him fully, and put her hands under the side of her head.

“Yeah—” Daryl murmured, taking a similar position.

“I want to talk to her again. Maybe this time she’d feel differently after seeing her name up in the list—” she continued. “Maybe takes a few watches, patrols…The school is closed. She’s got time.”

Daryl was staring at her carefully, sunlight filling the garage through the windows in the heights more, lightening them more, but he was silent. It felt odd, being with him like this, but Joan couldn’t run away her eyes from his, either.

His hand moved up and touched her dark curls, and Joan craned her neck up for a kiss, but before their lips met, a clamor carried over to them from outside.

Their head snapped at the door, Daryl’s right hand reached out to the hunting knife beside the bed, then they heard it more clearly.

Someone was fighting outside.

Daryl quickly got up, waving a hand to her to stay in, as the other still held his knife and strode to the narrow slit window beside the door. Joan quickly grabbed her clothes and started putting them on as Daryl twisted toward her, a startled expression over.

“It’s Shepherd!”

Joan ran to him. “What?”

Daryl turned back to the window, peeking above the window. “She’s throwin’ Gabriel out.”

# # #

Her soft light brown hair spread over the pillows, sunlight was casting a halo over her head, the green depths of her eyes dappled with honey flecks and light, but as he gazed at her inches apart mesmerized, still inside, all Rick could see over her face was a dazzled scare and confusion for what they had done.

For what he had done.

His body was still coming back to his senses after his climax, but Rick could feel the wetness of his semen slowly leaking over her inner thighs, smearing on his skin, too.

Stay with me…the barely whispering begging words echoed in him as Amanda continued staring at him dazzled, laying motionlessly underneath him. Rick was still trapped between her arms and legs, but he wasn’t sure if he could’ve moved even if she let him go.

For every time Rick had wondered how it would have felt to have her bareback again, this was how it felt. The way she had moaned to him, asking him to make love to her, telling him how good it felt; the moments started flooding him. He’d lost himself, lost his control, lost everything in the world, but her.

He'd failed her. He shouldn’t have done this. He’d told her he could control himself. He--

Her lips trembled and she swallowed down a shallow breath, her eyes were still sparkling, but Rick wasn’t sure anymore because of light or unshed tears. Her grip on his started loosening.

“A-Amanda—I—I’m sorry—” Rick muttered to her, still immobile over her. “I—I—”

She shook her head, stopping it. “It’s not your fault—” her voice sounded so rough and hoarse, she barely made it out. “I—I stopped you.”

Rick recalled the way her legs clenched around his waist in response when he tried to pull back, not letting him go, her arms dragging him down. He swallowed, trying to find control again.

They should be good. Amanda had said she wasn’t in her ovulation period, and—and they could find morning-after pills. It disturbed him, offering her to take pills as if Rick…Rick didn’t want it, but did he want it?

A baby with her. Amanda carrying his child… His cravings were still there, how it felt seeing her together with Judy, but no, Rick couldn’t live through that again. He couldn’t risk her like that. Not again.

When she finally let him go, Rick pulled out of her, his cock limp and docile. Straightening back, he sat on his knees on the bed and looked around to find papers or clothes to dry her. She might go and wash herself, but she didn’t move, and Rick couldn’t bring himself to suggest it, either.

Even though kids had been always her softest spot, Amanda had never expressed a desire for children before. Rick had reckoned it was a prospect that feared her as much as it feared him. Back in the prison on her first days with them, not knowing the full story, she’d even claimed he was stupid to get Lori pregnant. How I lost the love of my life and turned into an utter mess because I was stupid enough to get her knocked up at the end of the world….

The words pierced his chest. Rick was stupid, and weak, losing his control like this. His eyes wandering, he picked up the children's book on the bed stand and saw Judy’s wet wipes beside it. She must have read to Judy before the sleep last night, Rick surmised, something seizing his chest even worse. He swallowed thickly again, twisting to grab the package.

He took a few napkins and started cleaning her thighs. Her hands catching his, Amanda stopped him. “I’m gonna take a shower—” she told him, finally moving too, and Rick nodded.

Running her eyes away, she quickly leaped from the bed and trotted to the bathroom. Standing up, Rick cleaned himself with the wipes, staring at the wet stain in the middle of the sheet, letting out a sigh. Taking his boxer briefs and jeans from the floor, he put them on.

His head started splitting two with a headache that sent jolts of pain across his temples, and Rick closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He had no idea how Amanda’s ovulation period was, but he knew from how Carl had been conceived, sperms could live more than five days inside the women’s tubes.

At the beginning of their marriage, before Lori and he could have sat down and talked about their future in detail, it was how Lori became pregnant. Rick hadn’t cared, he’d been already wanting it, but Lori was wanting them to wait for a while.

Rick stopped his thoughts. He couldn’t do this now. He was sleep-deprived, tired, confused, thousands of walkers outside, half of the town was hating his guts. The anger of his failure was also winding inside him, for not being able to stop himself, for losing control, for screwing up once more.

When Amanda emerged out of the bathroom, she was wearing a bathrobe, but she hadn’t taken a shower. Her hair was still dry. Her steps halted, seeing him buttoning his shirt.

“Are you going?” she asked.

Rick cursed himself, hearing the perplexity in her tone. She thought he was running away. He lifted his head. “I need to check the watches and learn who’s coming out today with us to the quarry.”

Her eyes, keen dark emerald, found his. “You barely slept in two days, Rick.”

He jerked his head. “It’s fine. I’ll come back later and catch a nap before we go out.”

Amanda shook her head in return, walking toward the mini crib. “You’re gonna burn out yourself if you go on like this.”

“Amanda—”

As if Judith sensed her approach, she made a soft whining puff from her crib. Amanda leaned down. Rick barely saw her baby daughter over the railings before Amanda cradled her up. She then walked to him, Judith over her chest.

That thing inside his chest seized even worse as Amanda passed Judy to him. “She barely saw you in two days. Put her back to sleep, and stay with her for a while.” Rick took Judith from as she dropped the baby in his arms. “I’ll get you before we leave.”

With a sigh, Judith curled against his chest, Rick nodded. “’kay.”

They stared at each other, silence stretching out between them. Her expression was stiff now, and Rick felt like a douchebag. “A-Amanda—”

She cut him off before Rick could even start. “I’m gonna talk with Joan—” she said. “She told me before the military moved away they also left morning-after pills. There still should be some left.”

 Swallowing thickly, Rick bobbed his head, before he roughed out, “When does your ovulation start?”

“The next week—” She paused, glancing at him, her tone as placid as her expression. “But my circle has been out of order lately.”

Rick tried to keep his face impassive too, but he knew what that meant. If her counting were off, even a day or two, his sperms inside her would still impregnate her. Rick couldn’t say anything, so he nodded again without a word.

Getting closer to them, she passed a hand through Judy’s hair. His baby girl had already put her head back on his shoulder and went back to sleep. It was just around the dawn, too early. For a moment or so, Rick wanted to ask her to stay, too, sleep with them, but he knew she needed her space now.

They both needed it. He’d so fucked it up again. “Amanda, I’m sorry—” Rick repeated before she left, but he wasn’t sure for what, for not stopping himself in time, or for not telling her not to take the pills now.

Her eyes finding him, Amanda shook her head. “You don’t have to be.”

# # #

Putting her clothes back on, Amanda left the master bedroom. Her eyes drifted and she glanced back before the door closed, catching a glimpse of Rick and Judy laying in the bed. Her stomach coiled even worse, heavy as if it’d turned to stone, and she felt nauseous. Her head felt the same too, as heavy as her stomach, blank.

The memory came at her suddenly, recalling the first time she’d seen Rick with Judy, standing under the window in the prison, holding the baby in his arms close to his chest, the sunlight falling upon them through the bars, enveloping them in soft light in the gloomy cells.

Her steps almost tripped when she lived the moment again, a low gagging sound leaving her parched throat as she also remembered it was the very first dream she’d ever had about Rick. She shook her head, trying to chase away the memories and thoughts from her.

She couldn’t do it. They couldn’t do this. Even Rick thought the same. Didn’t say anything when she told him she was going to go look for the pills.

Amanda wasn’t surprised, really. She’d never believed Rick would want another child. God, she had even thought that Rick wasn’t aware of Judith’s contraception before, thinking perhaps his wife had tricked him into it or it was just a moment of bad luck, but the reality was even harder than that. Rick hadn’t even done it.

It didn’t stop him to take responsibility for the baby, and Amanda loved him for that, loved him very much, but she still knew it didn’t change their realities. Rick didn’t want another baby.

And why it felt like this?

She didn’t want a baby, either! She loved Judy, enjoyed spending time with her, but taking that responsibility? No. Amanda couldn’t be a mother. She wasn’t cut off from that cloth. She prowled, scavenged, and killed rotters. That was what she did. What she was.

I want more. This isn’t a living.

The words echoed in the blankness of her mind, and Amanda shut them off. No. No. It was too dangerous, irresponsible. Bringing a child into this world. Her mind flew over the quarry this time, that nightmarish song the dead made in the bowel…no. It was wrong. Selfish.

The reality made her even feel worse. Had Amanda acted in the same way she always suspected her mother did? Irresponsible, selfish, conceiving a child in a moment of delirium and passion? She’d been always half-convinced that it was how she was conceived if not was worse, if she wasn’t a product of rape. Was Amanda making the same mistake Madeline Shepherd had done once upon a time?

The thought almost gagged her as she stopped at the last step in the staircase, her eyes hurting so badly, her grip on the railings tightening. She stared at her whitened knuckles, trying to settle down the turmoil of her feelings. Perhaps the apple really didn’t fall far from the tree, and the history did repeat itself.

Joan. She had to find Joan.

But the house was silent, everyone else still sleeping. Standing in the hall, one foot propped at the last step, one foot down, her clutch on the railings still tight, Amanda tried to order her thoughts again, soothing down her raving feelings.

Between her legs still felt sticky. She’d quickly washed her lower body in the bathroom, not taking a full shower, but she still felt the stickiness. She should go back to her room and take a proper shower, change her clothes. She was still wearing her shirt from yesterday. She hadn’t been in the attic in two nights in a row. She should tidy it up, air it. Then she would find Joan. Perhaps they were even fretting over nothing.

Truth was that despite her fears, getting pregnant like this was a slim chance. Even in the ovulation period, it took time and effort to get pregnant. It was such murky waters, and Amanda had no idea how her fertility was, how her eggs’ reserves were, her having a baby had been such a farfetched concept for her, Amanda had never felt curious, never bothered to check. Perhaps they got afraid over nothing.

She left the staircase, looking around for Cinnamon, as the thought brought her a sudden stark pang of bitterness this time. She knew she had no rights. She knew it was uncalled for, not after Rick had been through, not after how he’d lost his wife, but the feeling was still there, deep inside her heavy stomach.

Rick had become rather scared at the prospect of her getting pregnant.

The forlorn and guilty expression over his face told it all to Amanda, the way he’d looked at her when she told him she was going to look for morning-after pills. I’m sorry.

Amanda knew he’d meant the words truly. Rick was sorry.

Suppressing that thought, Amanda called for Chinny softly. She had no right to be offended or feel hurt...no. Technically, they were still on a break. Rick didn’t have any obligations to fulfill. Finding her kitten, Amanda left the house.

 She had to return to her place now. Had to stop staying with him, too. This couldn’t go on like this. They had to pull their shit back together. She had to make up her mind and decide on something too, finish things for good or sit down and talk to him, but she still didn’t feel ready for that, either. Everything made her feel like she was drifting like a leaf in the wind.

After the herd, she promised herself. After they dealt with the herd and put things in order in Alexandria, she was going to put her own damn life in order too. The way she’d almost begged him not to leave her, it wasn’t probably…healthy.

They had to stop her sessions with Denise when her classes had started, but perhaps Amanda had to start them, being a bit more…open and honest this time. The notion still made her cringe as she headed to the attic, Cinnamon curled up at the crook of her elbow.

“Do you think I need a shrink, Chinny?” she whispered to the baby tabby as she pulled down the ladder with one hand. “Perhaps we both do.”

It still felt absurd, though, them going to a couple therapy, sitting in front of Denise. Just absurd. Shushing away that thought, too, Amanda quickly gathered her towels, a new shirt, and underwear and left for the bathroom. When she saw her toothbrush in the mug beside the sink, she remembered how she’d put the guest toothbrush beside Rick’s last night, something hitting her hard again.

Amanda shook her head tiredly and stepped into the shower. She rubbed between her thighs meticulously before she did anything else, not letting herself think anything else anymore, focusing on the shower base instead.

God! She so wished she could've been one of those impulsive people who just did stuff as how they came to them, not overthink, not analyze, not fret, but just…she didn’t know…live?

She made a grunt while washing her hair. She pondered for a few seconds if she should blow off her hair after she left the shower and put on her clothes. She had to take a shift before they left for the quarry, and the cold was even worse on the platforms. Listening outside, she heard faint sounds downstairs. The house had woken up.

Quickly finishing her job, Amanda started heading back to the kitchen for a quick breakfast. She didn’t want to see anyone else right now, as each of them possibly knew that she hadn’t come back to the house once again last night, and she wasn’t in the mood for covert glances.

But some things were inevitable. She braced herself, walking in the hall, then stepping over the doorway, she stopped.

Her body felt like cast-off of stone this time, not just her stomach, and anger suddenly swept over her, burning away all her confusion, dismay, turmoil, because at the other side of the kitchen’s island the sonofabitch for a holy man was standing.

“You!” she spat, marching over to him, letting her emotions reign over her. “How dare you sit and eat with us?”

The other occupants in the room gave her incredulous looks. “Amanda?” Sasha asked beside her semi-alcoholic boyfriend, giving her a look.

Amanda turned to the woman as the father paled, his fingers over his tea mug trembling. “I—” the man started, but Amanda cut him off.

“The townspeople started a petition to expel Rick—” Amanda sneered with venom, stopping beside the man, her eyes staring at him openly. The man fidgeted. “Because he told them Rick is dangerous.”

All eyes turned to Father Gabriel from her. “Father?” Abraham asked this time, the question in his stiff tone.

“He-he’s—”

“Kept you safe—” Amanda cut him again, spatting the words. “Kept you alive.” She shook her head. “How could you do this to us? After what you did!” Her anger blazed even more, and she grabbed his arm tightly.

She started dragging him out of the kitchen. “Amanda!” Sasha cried out, but she didn’t listen.

“Out!” she cried back, pulling the man toward the screen door. “If you think he’s dangerous, then you don’t have a place with us.” She opened the door and pushed him out to the porch. “Get out!

“I—I—” he whimpered as Amanda shoved him again. He rolled over the steps and fell backward, clattering the little pots at the base of the railings with him before he landed on the garden.

Get out—” she spat again, barely keeping a scream inside not to wake up Rick and Judy at the other house. “Go to your new friends.”

The other house’s door opened, and Carol and Glenn emerged out as their porch got crowded. Amanda shot a sideways look and saw Sasha, Abraham, Rosita, Bob all staying behind her, staring at the scene she just did, Carol and Glenn jogging toward them.

Amanda didn’t move an inch, only repeated, sterner. “Go.”

The father stood up, dusting his pants as Daryl and Joan came running from the backyard, from the garage.

Seeing the nurse, Amanda started stepping down silently, not sparing even a glance at the father staring at her, and walked over to Joan. “I need to talk with you.”

# # #

When they arrived at the infirmary, they found it empty. Amanda narrowed her eyes as Joan took out a key from her pocket and opened the door. “Where’s Pete Anderson?”

Joan shrugged. “Possibly hangover—” she remarked, opening the door. “He’s entirely stopped coming since you started the classes.”

Amanda held back a sigh. Joan hadn’t commented what had happened with the father, and Amanda hadn’t made one why she had come from Daryl’s garage, either. All those talks had to wait because leaving her spectacle, Amanda had just told the nurse that she needed morning-after pills.

Brilliant as always, Joan only nodded briefly before leading her to the infirmary. “It happened last night?” she asked as they stepped over the doorway.

Amanda shook her head, no reason to deny it from her. “Just now.”

“Ah.” Her friend shot at her a look. “Better, I guess.” Inside she moved toward a cabinet behind the surgeon’s desk. “Have you been counting?” she continued her...interrogation. “I told you to do it.”

Amanda gave her friend a brief nod. “Yeah. I’m still not on my ovulation period, but my circle hasn’t been stable lately, so…” She paused. “I want to be sure.”

“None of us are stable anymore, I’m afraid—” Joan agreed. “Too much stress and malnutrition. They disturb our circles.” She picked up a white-blue package and handed it to her. “Have you ever taken them before?”

Unfortunately, Amanda had to give another nod. “Yeah. One time I wasn’t sure if the condom was rightly in the place. Wanted to be certain.”

“Okay. So you know what to do. Take one now, the second is twelve hours later.” Amanda vaguely bobbed her head, checking the shelf life date on the side. “Did you have any side effects?”

“A bit groin pain and nausea, but nothing intolerable.” She paused. “Had my circle bad the next time though.”

Joan sighed softly. “Yeah. Hormones prettily screw up our metabolism.”

Amanda raised the little package. “Joan—this’s expired.” It had. Six months ago.

“I know—” Joan replied. “But medicine isn’t like food. Don’t go foul directly. You can still use it. It’s just less effective.”

Amanda made a bitter low sound as she opened the package. “Better than nothing.” She took one tablet, popped it out, and threw it in her mouth. She swallowed it dry and slipped the other tablet in her pocket to take it later. She then looked back at Joan.

“Do you need to take one, too?” she fished out, her eyes searching now.

Joan gave her a small smile, understanding her words. “No. No accident. He pulled out in time.”

“Good for you.”

“So?” Joan inquired further. Amanda let out soft laughter this time.

“So?” she asked back. “Joan, you slept with Daryl last night, and you ask me ‘so’?”

“Well, I didn’t throw anyone out of the house in the morning, but you did. So…so?” Amanda heaved deeply this time. “Was it the first time after your break up?”

She shook her head. Joan made a little ah.

“We had sex too when he went to dinner at Beatrice—” she confessed. “But I was drunk.”

“Ah,” Joan repeated.

Amanda passed a hand through her half ponytail. “Yeah.”

“So have you decided?”

Amanda shook her shoulders, realizing she still didn’t have a direct answer. “I want to be with him, Joan—” she said, remembering what she’d told Rick yesterday. “But I don’t know.” She waved her hand in the air. “But enough of me. How’s with you?” She paused, a small smile appearing over her lips this time, and she asked before she could stop herself.

“How was it?” Amanda cleared her throat, her smile growing a bit, and added sotto voce. “Ya know I sort of always wondered…”

 Joan laughed. “Hah. Who wouldn’t, right? All that manly demeanor and bad boy vibes, but runs away from the girls like a plague…” She paused, giving her a look. “It was good. A bit anticlimactic, perhaps, but it was good.” Another pause. “He was good.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.” 

“How did it happen?” she asked, somehow knowing it was Joan who had convinced him to finally act, like how she had done with Rick in the woods for their first time. She wondered if Joan had told him they needed to have sex, get it out of their systems like Amanda had done, because refusing to have sex was complicating things as much as friends with benefits relationship would have done, but what the other woman told her was something she could’ve never imagined.

“Well, you know. The usual. First I asked him if he was interested in the opposite party then questioned his potency. Asked him if everything worked fine down there…”

Amanda stared at the woman with wide eyes. “Oh my god! You really did that?” She couldn’t help herself, a low giggle left her.

Joan nodded seriously. “Men…even Daryl wasn’t a lot different in the end, I guess. Decided to prove his prowess.” She laughed softly, but her face getting serious, her friend suddenly said. “I want to talk to Jessie again.”

For a few seconds, Amanda stayed silent for the abrupt change of the topic, couldn’t decide if the woman didn’t want them to talk about what had happened last night further, because Amanda would ask her if they were on it. Starting a relationship.

Joan didn’t deny she’d spent the night with Daryl in the garage, but she didn’t look like she wanted to talk about it more, and Amanda decided to honor her wishes. She had no right to get noisy, too, or give anyone advice on their love life when she failed on hers tremendously.

Maybe Joan was having the same setbacks Amanda had been suffering too, fearing a real relationship. But Joan at least had good reasons for her fears. She’d come out of a very abusive relationship, had to deal with Gorman and his horrendous ways for more than a year. She had every reason to have cold feet. What was Amanda’s excuse?

She hadn’t even had a damn relationship before Rick!

But all of it wasn’t enough reason to go around Jessie Anderson again, making things worse with the surgeon. She’d told Rick she wasn’t going to talk to the woman again, wasn’t going to stir up the hornet’s nest, but as she looked at Joan, Amanda felt that might be a problem too.

“Joan, we already talked to her. If we keep pushing—” she tried to reason with the nurse. “It’s harassing. We already have this petition ongoing for us. It’s not a good time to create more drama.”

A cloud passed over Joan’s face, her expression closing off as she drew away from the desk. “Rick has got this petition ongoing—” she corrected slowly. “It’s got nothing to do with Jessie Anderson and us.”

Amanda’s expression stiffened, too, not liking where the conversation going. “Rick’s one of us. This isn’t a good time.”

Joan’s face turned colder as she gazed at her openly. “Oh, I see, Amanda. Rick’s just too important, right? You can’t afford to lose him.”

Amanda quickly took a step toward her, shaking her head. “Joan—” she tried again, her tone having an urgency now. Joan couldn’t think like that, not again. Never again! “It's not like that—”

Joan cut her off, “Oh, but it is. It’s exactly like that,” she bit off, words spatting at her face. “You don’t want to disturb your bubble, so you’re looking the other way again. Who cares if a douchebag beats his wife?” she went on, her words sharper than knives as Amanda shook her head agitatedly. “You’ve got other problems now. Bigger issues to deal with.”

“I went to her!” Amanda cried over, walking back toward her. “Talked to her. Gave her my word to support her if she wants a split, but she didn’t come. She doesn’t want it. She’s not like you, Joan.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Amanda knew it was the wrong thing to say. Joan flinched back as if Amanda had slapped her, her eyes holding a dark glare. Panicked, Amanda leaped over to her closer, holding her arm. “Joan, I didn’t mean—”

She pulled it back, her eyes now like dark daggers. “No. You exactly meant it, Officer Shepherd.”

# # #

Rick woke up in the late morning, Judy softly sobbing puffing beside him in the bed, crawling toward him fast. She had started crawling faster these days. Rick had even caught her a few times trying to stand up holding the couch, and he guessed soon she was going to start doing it, too. Rick tried to align the dates. Deanna had her calendar, and Rick knew they’d started having early December now. They were going to have Judy’s first birthday around three months.

His breath hitched as the realization hit him. Rick didn’t know what to feel about that. It was a bittersweet moment, and even if Rick didn’t want to think of it like that, it was also Lori’s death day. An early spring day when his life had turned upside once more after the outbreak.

The thought brought back the scare at full force on him as Rick gazed at the bed, what had happened inside here playing in his mind again. He tried to stop his distressful emotions and feelings, and the sour taste in his stomach, but get up from bed and get ready. He needed to prepare. They should leave soon. Judy hit his side with her bunny, holding his chest as she leaned over Rick. “Dada!Dada!”

Rick scooped up his baby closer and made her sit on his stomach. He was still in his clothes as he didn’t want to change his clothes for an emergency but only took off his duty belt to the closet. Judith bounced happily as she toppled on him, still hitting him with her bunny.

“No no, honey—" Rick held her tiny hand and brought it to his cheek. “Love Dada like this…” He brushed her hand over his stubble. “Good dada, sweet dada…”

“Dada!”

Drawing up from the bed, Rick curled her up against his chest and started sliding off the bed. “Missed dada, didn’t you?” he talked to her, walking to the crib. “Sorry, honey. Things have been crazy.”

Leaving her in the crib, dropping a few toys over her bed, Rick took a quick shower before he left the master bedroom with Judy. Both Carl and Beth were in the kitchen, and Rick left Judy with them before he went out on the porch.

Out on the porch, he saw Carol and a few more of them outside in the next house talking in a circle. Abraham sent a look at him after catching his sight on the porch but didn’t say anything. “When do we leave?” Rick asked.

“In an hour—” Abraham said, turning to him for a moment beside Rosita. “Amanda is with Deanna right now.”

Rick frowned. Carol looked at him sideways. Rick caught it, too. It looked like he was missing something. “What’s happening?” he asked, his brows tightening further.

“She kicked Father Gabriel out of the house this morning. Deanna just learned about it and asked for her,” Carol explained, a kind smile splitting her lips as Rick stared stunned at the words. “It was kind of…romantic. She literally tossed him out.” Her head bobbed at the other porch. His eyes moved aside and Rick saw scattered pieces of broken pots below the steps. “She said if he thinks you’re dangerous, then he doesn’t have a place with us.”

Carol’s words loosened something in his stomach and chest, even though it was nothing to do with what had happened this morning. Truth be told, Rick had already considered sending the man away from the house, away from his family, but didn’t want to start another fight with Amanda. The fact Amanda herself had done it, sent the man out of their houses on his behalf, telling the coward idiot he didn’t have a place with them if he thought Rick like that… His relaxation swelled further in his chest, untying his stomach. Pleased, Rick clutched the railings and stared ahead the town.

“You liked it—” It wasn’t a question but wasn’t a statement, either. Rick glanced at Carol who had been studying him carefully. “You liked that she defended you.”

Rick didn’t see any point to deny it. “Yeah. I like her having my back.”

There again he confessed it. He felt much better when she had his back. This time it wasn’t even only knowing she was there, protecting him, but knowing she believed in him. It meant everything. “You were together last night?” Carol asked gently.

Rick nodded. “Yes.”

“So you’re good?” the older woman inquired further. Rick sensed a small note of suspicion then, wondering if there was something else too. “Together?”

“Uh—we haven’t talked that much—” he said. “We had sex. She said she wanted to be with me, but—”

“But?” Carol prompted when Rick stopped.

“Something else happened.” He paused, his fingers tightened, his knuckles turning white as his jaw set. “I screwed up again, Carol. We didn’t have a condom. I couldn’t pull out in time.” Rick heard Carol’s small intake of breath, understanding what it meant. “She said she ain't on her ovulation period,” Rick continued, “But, um, she also said it isn’t stable.”

“How do you feel?” Carol asked, turning to him, her face bearing a sympathetic look. “If she—gets pregnant?”

Rick shook his head, letting out a breath, confessing again. “I honestly don’t know if I’m ready for that again,” he spoke honestly. “I’m not sure if Amanda is, either.” Somehow words spilled out, and Rick didn’t stop them. Perhaps he couldn’t admit it to anyone else, but the truth was that even though things weren’t like this in their life, bringing a child into their highly dysfunctional relationship, which wasn’t even a relationship as of the moment…No. They couldn’t do that. They couldn’t use a child to mend their fracturing relationship. Rick was enough aware of dysfunctional relationships to know that it wouldn’t solve their problems. “She said she’s gonna ask for morning-after pills.”

Carol nodded with the same sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Rick, but it’s possibly the best.”

The word left him with difficulty. “Yeah.”

Her hand touched his upper arm briefly in comfort before the older woman went back inside the house. Rick stepped down from the porch to take a tour before they left for the quarry. Aiden, Heath, and Tobin were preparing a construction team to come with them this time to close the exits properly. Rick studied the plates, beams, and equipment they loaded on the bed of the pickup and the van.

Rick hoped today they would finish the job, so they could start preparing the safe houses, and started leading the herd out. The longer it took, the more they became sidelined. Leaving the team, Rick continued on his tour, checking the watch platforms, then uphill, he saw Amanda leaving Monroe’s residence.

Her face was stiff, souring milk as she marched down toward the armory. Her steps faltered briefly upon seeing him at the other side as Rick walked upwards but trotted away the next second, not sparing at him another glance.

Stopping, Rick watched her going away.

What the hell was that?

Deanna possibly berated her for making another scene, throwing Gabriel out of the house, but seriously, why he was having this treatment now? The answer turned his insides colder than the wind cracking at his face. In the morning she was stiff and placid, but now she looked upset. Was that why she had tossed the father out? Amanda tended to pull her claws out when she was upset, lashing out her anger on the first prospect.

For a moment, Rick thought of going after her and asked her what happened, but he didn’t want to risk another scene right now. They had to leave. It was already almost noon. They were wasting daylight. Rick still needed to find out what had happened to the missing gun. Talk to Carl. Perhaps go out and check the cabin again.

They even needed to set up more safe houses in the woods before they let out the herd, in case that something happened at the moment and they were separated and needed to head back. He didn’t have time to dwell on evacuation plans further, preparing the townspeople for that, making them memorize the routes and their whereabouts. Hell, Rick even couldn’t have managed to take them out for range practicing, another fact that had come to bite him in the ass when Deanna used it against him. They couldn’t wait. They had to do this. Now.

Checking all the platforms, Rick ventured back to the armory and took his gun back. They spread out to the vehicles, Amanda taking his passenger side in the van. The backside of the minivan was covered with plates and short beams they’d cut in half, so they were alone. Rick thought perhaps they would talk, but Amanda just stared outside, propping her head at the side of the window, ignoring him.

His grip on the wheel turning his knuckles whiter, his jaw clenching, Rick stayed silent too, leading their small four-vehicle-cortege toward the campsite. A couple of times the cracking radio broke the tensed silence between them, and each time Amanda gave her attention briefly to the static before she turned her head away, understanding it wasn’t urgent.

The work went without a problem, too, a few walkers passed through and lurched, but put down quickly. They worked, dug, and put up plates and beams over each section until the sky above them had started getting grey, surrounding them into the gloom. The days were shortening quickly, too quickly.

There was never enough time.

“A’right—” Rick called out, drawing up and trying to check out the sun behind the clouds, the wind cracking at his face. Half of his fingers weren’t feeling, even inside his gloves. Much like his ears and his face. The cold fingers of wind were seeping through the fur of his suede jacket. Amanda was even worse with her leather jacket, even though inside of it had pelage. She had work gloves, too, but her face and the tip of her nose and ears were so red, for a moment or so, Rick was afraid she would get cold. The weather was cloudy, cold, and dry, as if to indicate nothing good would come out of such a day, the faint sunlight at the dawn felt like a distant memory now.

“This’s enough for today—” Rick continued, motioning with his head. “We’re already finished.” The northeast part was still partly lost to them, but Rick didn’t bother himself about it much. It was the direction they were going to unleash the herd, toward the Wolves’ whereabouts, and when they closed the interactions to the southwest, they were pretty much safe.

Tired and cold, they started packing up and loading everything back on the vehicles. Back in the car, he extended his canteen to her when she started rubbing her shoulder tiredly. During the day, they barely spoke or glanced at each other, Amanda keeping her distance, staying with Aiden and his team.

She took the canteen without a word and took a sip before she passed it back to him. Again, she barely glanced at him. Rick couldn’t take it anymore. His hand hit the wheel, not taking the canteen. “Dammit, Amanda! Are we gonna do this again?!”

Her hand holding the canteen froze in the air, staring at him. Clutching the wheel again tighter, Rick shook his head. “You barely looked at me today—” Rick gritted out. “Are you really this upset at me because I came inside you?”

Even though Rick understood, even though there was a part of himself that even whispered to him that it wasn’t only their relationship, but Amanda wasn’t ready to be a mother yet, the way she treated him hurt. He knew he had screwed up, but he didn’t want this. “Don’t give me the silent treatment, Amanda, please.”

She dropped her hand down, looking impassive. “You mean don’t do what you always do?”

He slowly let out a long breath, trying to stay calm, and unclench his grip on the wheel. “Amanda, I’m not trying to pick a fight. Are you?”

“No.”

“Then tell me what’s wrong?”

She shook her shoulders. “Nothing.”

“Did you—did you take the pills?” he asked, slanting her a sideways look. Perhaps that was why she was having a temper, giving him cold shoulder. Women had a bad temper while they were on their cycles, perhaps the hormones she had introduced to her system made her catty again.

But the question made her finally react. She snapped her face toward him, her cheeks still red, but this time Rick couldn’t be sure if it was because of cold or anger. “Yes, Rick. I took the pill.” She patted her pocket. “The second one is here. I’ll take it this evening. Don’t be afraid. I want to get pregnant as much as you want me to.”

It was all wrong, the bitterness while she clipped the words, the detached tone. All wrong. It wasn’t like that…it…it wasn’t. “Amanda—” Rick started, his tone turning softer, but she cut him off.

“And even if I were, you still wouldn't need to worry. I wouldn’t force you to anything. I can take care of myself or my baby.”

With a swift move, Rick turned to the wheel to the left, as his foot stepped down on the brake. With a loud screech, the car stopped as Amanda stared. His hand almost trembling with anger, Rick reached out and ripped off the build-in radio from the dashboard. “You move along—” he ordered to the other vehicles. “We’re right behind you.”

Without a word, as if they sensed the foul air between them, they drove without a fuss. Neither of them said a word until the vehicles vanished off from their sight. Rick opened the door and stepped out when they were alone. The sky was turning darker, but he had enough. He didn’t go back to Alexandria before they finished this talk.

He crossed over the van’s front, propped himself on the edge, and waited for her. When she understood they weren’t moving until they talked, Amanda left the passenger seat and came to his side. “It’s getting late. We need to go.”

Rick shook his head. It wasn’t the best idea to stay on the road close to the evening, but Rick didn’t care. They were going nowhere before they made this talk. “I can’t do this anymore, Amanda. I really can’t—” he told her truthfully, turning toward her. “Do you honestly believe that I would walk out on you or my baby like that?”

“You’re scared, Rick,” came her placid reply as she looked back at him. “You’re blaming yourself.”

He didn’t lie to her. “Yes.” She swallowed; Rick saw the way her throat move wordlessly. “I shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have lost control. But I would never abandon you, Amanda. How could you think of that?”

“I—I didn’t mean it. I don’t think—”

“Amanda, stop, please—” Rick let out a deep breath. “Stop telling me things you don’t mean.” He pulled away from the van and turning stood in front of her between her legs. “Gimme the other pill.”

“What?”

“Give me the other pill.”

“Rick—”

Rick opened his palm. “Amanda, please. Give me the pill.”

 Her hand slipped inside her front pocket, and when she dropped it on his palm, her fingers were trembling. Rick closed up his palm and leaned in her further on the edge of the van. “Say the word, and I throw it—” he told her in a heated whisper, holding her gaze. “Just say the word. I’m afraid, but I would never—ever regret anything I do with you. Do you know why?”

Her eyes were glistening now, looking at him, her green depths moist, mesmerizing. Amanda swallowed thickly again, shaking her head as a tear slipped off her eye and trailed down across her cheek. “Why?”

Her voice was barely audible, but Rick heard it. He cupped her cheek, and gently brushed his thumb across her damp skin, wiping the tear away, their eyes locked on each other. “Because I love you—” he whispered to her before dipping his head further and kissed her.

Notes:

Finally, Rick said the ILY properly. I wish I really would've just made them have babies, not making Amanda taking the morning after pills, but alas, that would have been very unrealistic in their current situation. They're no way close to that state of mind. Rick would have been so scared if something like this happened unplanned, and Amanda would have never dared... But I wanted to leave it open, because I'm that kind of an evil author, hehe. They're still not out of the danger, Amanda still might get knocked up at the end ;)

Rick telling her he would never ever regret anything with her was also something I knew I was going to use again when I made Rick tell her he didn't regret kissing her at Grady even though they confessed to each other they didn't want any complications in their lives such as a relationship in the first book so this had to come back, too. Heh.

And, for the last, finally, Daryl and Joan did it, too! Hehe. Yeah. I giggled myself like silly writing their scene, Joan asking Daryl if the lil' Daryl works fine or not! BECAUSE let's be real, I can't be the ONLY one who has ever thought of that, right? The fandom always treats Daryl as asexual or demi-sexual or gay in the closet, but I have been always like, 'Huh. Ya know, perhaps the little Darly just doesn't work fine, huh?' Lol. I know I'm so bad, but it happens, right? And Amanda asking how Daryl was in the bed..getting curious...well, let's say it was also something I wanted to do for a long time, hehe. Girls need to have 'girl talk':p Too bad I had to make them having a fight, but the narrative was needing it :( This chapter really had ups and downs for me while writing it.

Don't forget to tell me what you think or just say hello if you feel like it. I need a lot of motivation these days. Ciaociao...

Chapter 40: 'She can be our ace in the hole'

Summary:

Dealing with the aftereffects of the morning after pills after Rick's love confession, Amanda and Rick spend the night together, sharing about their older life. In the morning, Amanda decides to create a win-win situation in order to help Jessie Anderson.

Notes:

ALL RIGHT!!! First of all! OH MY GOD! SOMEONE THROWS AT ME SOME CONFETTI BECAUSE I TRULY DID IT! FINISHED THE BOOK!
Last night I just wrote the last chapter, the aftermath. I might add an epilogue for the third book, but I haven't decided yet, I'll decide after I start writing the next book.
Speaking of which, the next book is gonna be called 'On The Horizon'. I had thought of it a long while ago, when I decided this one was gonna be titled as On The Edge, heh.
So after 56 chapters, and over 510k words, On The Edge is finished. I'm insanely happy and proud of myself, lol.

Right now, I have no idea how the updating schedule is gonna be, but as you might know, I never manage to hold it, too, so, whatever...lol. But I want to focus my energy and concentration solely on writing and planning On The Horizon, so the updates for the final act, which starts after this chapter, might be sporadic.
But I think this chapter is a good place to have a break too, as all the players are settled on the board right now after this, Rick and Amanda doing, shockingly, a real, true 'sharing and talking' too.

Another thing, DarkTidings had uploaded Amanda and Lamson deleted scene from Season 5/Coda this winter for me, God bless her soul, which I forgot to add here for anyone would be interested to see. I put it on the first chapter this week, but here is the link again if anyone is interested. I greatly recommend it, it's an amazing scene that I wish they didn't cut it off from the episode.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

As they kissed, her tears slipped between their lips. It was salty and pathetic, but Amanda didn’t care, just kissed him back, a flood breaking over her again, his last words vibrating deep inside her core.

Because I love you.

She wouldn’t have believed the words made her feel like this, or the way he offered her to throw away the pill, telling her he was afraid but he would’ve never regretted anything with her. Anything. Because he loved her.

It wasn’t the first time Rick had said those words, but it felt different. The first time had happened so suddenly, so out of place, Amanda didn’t know what to do. Rick didn’t know what to do. He’d just turned around and walked away, leaving her stupefied. This time there was no such uncertainty. He was kissing her slowly, taking his time, as if to show her what he felt, even though there was no need.

Amanda believed him. She believed no one but him. She’d never felt loved like this.

They parted an inch from each other and resting his forehead on hers, Rick looked down at her. He was still half cradled between her legs as Amanda was half arched backward over the van. There was a part of her that wanted to tell it back to him, as he stared at her, that she loved him, too, but she couldn’t find her voice. Her throat felt so dry, she couldn’t make a sound.

His hand eased down from her waist and slipped the pill inside her pocket. “Make your decision,” he whispered to her. “Take it, throw it. Whatever you want, baby.”

She gulped through the tight lump in her throat but still couldn’t speak. She gave a loopy nod. She didn’t know what she wanted, only knew what she shouldn’t. What they shouldn’t. They shouldn’t make a baby. But it was getting harder to remember common sense and logic when Rick looked at her like this.

With a soft smile, he held her hand and pulled her away from the van. He let it go as they stepped back in the vehicle but immediately took it again after he turned on the motor. Entwined, their hands stayed on the gear, Rick only loosening his grip when he needed to shift it. It was getting darker, and Amanda almost told him to be careful because he kept slanting at her sideways looks with small grins while he drove, but somehow she only found herself returning them. Inside the van was warmer than outside even though they didn’t turn on the heaters to save gas, and she felt like a melting mash.

Shaking her head mentally, Amanda tried to get a grip on herself. She still needed to talk to him about the pills. And about Joan, she supposed. She’d been upset the whole day, torn in bitterness that she knew she didn’t have a right to feel regarding the pills, then her fight with Joan had toppled on it. She shouldn’t have taken it on Rick, but she had done. She wanted to apologize, feeling like a bitch, but she didn’t want to return to the discussion, so she moved on to the next topic.

He needed to know. He’d told her to decide, but he still needed to know. Because even though she took the pills, there was a good probability that it might still not work. “Rick—” She called out to him softly, holding his gaze when he glanced at her. “A-about the pills. There’s something you need to know.”

His locks shook as he jerked his head briefly. Her eyes skipping for a second, Amanda thought his hair getting longer again. Perhaps she could clip it for him. She wanted to take care of him. His fingers tightened over hers before Rick talked. “Amanda, I told you everything about the pills. I—”

“Their shell life expired six months ago—” she remarked quickly as Rick silenced, looking at her. “Joan said they can’t go bad like food, but they’re less effective. Even though I take the pills, t-they still might not work.”

His eyes cut over to her again, but in answer, Rick raised their tangled hands and brought it over to his lips. He kissed her knuckles before dropping them over his lap. “It’s okay. Whatever happens, Amanda, it’s gonna be okay.” He paused, his face getting sterner as he gazed at the gloomy road ahead, his jaw clenching, his fingers tightening around hers further. “I’m gonna make it okay.”

Out of breath, Amanda could only nod again, before she squeaked forcibly. “I-it wasn’t you—” She mouthed out, gulping lowly. “I wasn’t upset with you. Not really. Joan and I fought today.” It was inside her terribly again, the desire to apologize, tell him she was sorry. “I’m sorry I took it on you.”

From the road, his eyes skipped to her once more, moving their hands to shift the gear and letting it for a second to change the gear when he took a curve, then grabbing it again, nodding. It happened too quickly as Amanda gazed at it before he asked, “What happened then?”

She gulped and asked first, “Do you know Joan stayed with Daryl in the garage last night?”

Daryl had been with them today, but Amanda wasn’t sure if they talked. The way the corner of Rick’s lips moved up told Amanda that he thought the same, too. “That’s good.”

“Yeah. I saw her leaving the garage when I—uh—” Pausing, she bowed her head. “Did you hear what I did to Father Gabriel?” she asked, looking at him under her bowed head. His hand shifted the gear and grabbed hers again in a millisecond as Rick chuckled out softly.

“Yeah. Carol mentioned it this morning.” Another slanted look, this time he looked teasing. “Tossed him out of the house?”

She tried to shrug. “He’s an ungrateful idiot. He can go make it with his new friends.”

“You won’t hear me complain,” Rick muttered, then his face became serious again. “So what happened with Joan?” he inquired again. “Why did you fight?”

“It happened when she gave me the pills—” Amanda started to retell. “She wants to speak with Jessie again. She wants to try to change her mind. I refused. Said we shouldn’t harass her, but keep our distance, especially now because of the petition.” She swallowed again, remembering her friend’s words, her bitterness, cutting and biting, because Amanda also knew they were true. “She said I’m looking the other way again.”

His jaw clenched; Amanda could even see it from his profile. “We talk about it tonight, okay?” he told her as they got closer to the roadblock. He didn’t want to have this talk now in the car, Amanda realized, and a part of her agreed. But tonight sounded ominous, an open invitation again, even though Rick didn’t say a word.

He wanted her to stay with him tonight again. Amanda wanted to stay too, even though it was probably better if she didn’t. They needed a bit of distance. They just had another roller coaster, they needed to cool off. The problem was that Amanda didn’t want to stay alone. She remembered how she felt this morning while they had sex.

Rick blamed himself for what had happened, but somehow he had skipped over the part that it mostly happened because Amanda didn’t let him go in the first place. Amanda wasn’t sure what it all meant, but before she could ponder more, letting her hand go, Rick gestured at the radio.

“Call in—” he told her. “We’re getting closer.”

Amanda quickly grabbed the radio with her freed hand and made the ID challenge. Parking beside the warehouse, they went to check out their guns together, then headed back to the house.

In front of their driveway, Rick looked at her openly. “I need to make a round.”

Trying to settle her flip-flopping stomach, Amanda nodded. She felt so nervous, bile churned in her stomach. “You take a shift tonight?”

Rick shook his head, his eyes never wavering from hers. “I’m gonna ask Glenn. I’ll be back before supper.”

“’kay. I’ll go and take a few clothes—” she muttered. “I always wear yours.”

Closing their distance, Rick took her in an embrace. “You won’t hear me complain—” he repeated in a rough whisper before his lips gently brushed over hers in the middle of the street. It was even more in public than the patio of the community center as half of the Alexandria was out minding their own business, but Amanda didn’t care.

She coiled her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes, and kissed him back. Her insides were turning upside down, her heart beating in her throat, her stomach feeling weird, her blood drumming in her ears. She wondered if this was how it felt when you felt someone truly loved you, or—or she was getting sick.

Her stomach lurched—

Or the emergency contraception was working. She pushed herself off Rick, bowing her head as she closed her mouth with a gagging sound. “Amanda—?”

Bile rose to her throat, and she shook her head hearing concern in Rick’s voice. She raised her head. “Uh—the pill—” she murmured. “I think it works.”

Understanding lighting in his eyes, Rick nodded. “You go and pick up your clothes, ‘kay?” Dipping his head, he brushed his lips over her forehead quickly. “I make a quick check and come back.”

Amanda nodded. “’kay.”

She slipped into the house silently without checking in with everyone. She already felt sick, and after what had happened with Father Gabriel, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to have another confrontation. Amanda wasn’t anything close to the man, but some of them might be. Amanda had seen the father with Sasha a couple of times, even praying together one time. She would never get into anyone’s business, but that ungrateful douchebag didn’t deserve them. Period.

Cinnamon, sensing her, quickly came to her, joining her in the staircase. Inside the attic, the nervous feeling found her again, her stomach coiling. She no longer could decide if it was excitement, anxiety, or side effects of hormones, so she just packed up. She packed lightly, as she didn’t want to look like she was transferring back to his place, just a few essentials to stay over the nights comfortable. She threw a few clean underwears, warm pajamas, a sweatshirt, socks, and a few hygiene products in her backpack, but left her toothbrush. Rick’s bathroom already had hers.

The thought brought a small smile over her lips, Chinny passing between her feet, rubbing her plush head over her ankles. Her hands lingered over the lingerie she’d brought back from the house, dark emerald and another navy blue, and a black satin one, then before she changed her mind, she threw them in too. She didn’t think she would wear them tonight. Hell, she didn’t even think they were ready to have sex again after what had happened this morning, but she just didn’t want to leave them behind. The one night she spent with Rick wearing lingerie was still in the corner of her mind, and there was that wanting in her too, wanting to have the same thing again. Perhaps not tonight, but one day.

Before she left the house, she’d already thrown up once.

God!

The pill surely looked like working.

The fact saddened her, but Amanda didn’t let it foul her mood. It was good to hear those words from Rick. Hearing him saying it would be okay whatever she decided made a difference, but Amanda still couldn’t do it. She couldn’t be a mother. She didn’t trust herself that much. It was a good dream, but the reality was this. She couldn’t do that to him, either. It wasn’t fair to him. Rick’s scare was so palpable, she understood his reasons. Washing her mouth, she took the other pill where Rick had stuffed back inside her pocket and swallowed it.

Her tears almost ran free again, but Amanda dried them off with the back of her hand. She had no right to bring a child into this crazy cruel world. She washed her face and left the bathroom. Going back to the attic to take her backpack, she lifted Chinny too and left the house.

The smells from the kitchen assaulted her together with the noises of the coward inside as soon as she crossed the screen door. She smelled onion and garlic, which made her sickness worse, so she quickly ran up over the staircase, leaving Chinny down. Her kitten dutifully followed her up. She still heard the clamor from downstairs as she walked in the corridor to the master bedroom, Carl and Beth’s voices carrying over. Amanda even was sure she heard Clarice too. The teenage girl must have come over for dinner.

It was good. For a second, Amanda thought of going down and having a talk with her about the petition Carl had mentioned, devise a plan, learn who might back up them, but she felt so sick to concentrate on such stuff. She just wanted to slip in the bed and finish the day now.

Tomorrow. She was going to deal with it tomorrow. The work at the quarry was quasi-finished, the free rotters put down. Rick could handle it with the others. She could stay in for one day and get a feeling of what was happening in the town, see her trainees. She didn’t want to neglect her duties.

Inside the master bedroom, she changed into her pajamas, put her socks on, and dived under the covers. Her stomach still felt funny, but she didn’t throw up again, and there was no groin ache this time, thank god. She hoped she didn’t jinx herself thinking about it. She twisted on her side, her eyes caught the Very Hungry Caterpillar on the bed stand. The book almost made her cry this time, her throat clenching, but she suppressed it down. She had no rights.

Shaking her head, swallowing thickly over her tight throat, she took the other book that was still on the bed stand and started reading. Though, reading made her feel nausea only worse, so she closed the book after a few pages. It looked like she would never manage to read this book.

She thought of going to the TV unit and turn on DVD, but she didn’t want to do it alone. Perhaps when Rick came back, they would watch a movie together or Rick would read to her. Amanda didn’t know. So, she waited. Before the hour ended, Rick came back, just like he had promised.

“Hey—” He sat at the edge of the bed, crossing the distance between the door and the bed with a few quick strides. With a kind smile, he leaned down over her and brushed her hair off her forehead gently with a small smile. “How ya feeling?”

Amanda shook off her one shoulder as she lay on her side, only her head poking out of the covers. “Been worse.” Rick smiled further, still playing with her hair. Amanda lifted her eyes at him, turning on her back. “Where’s Judy?”

The nickname dropped out of her lips easily and Rick didn’t even bat an eye. Amanda wondered briefly if he missed it or just overlooked her slip. Was it still a slip?

“Left her with Carl and Clarice—” Rick answered her softly. “She came for dinner. They’re playing together.”

“I heard her voice, yeah. Will talk to her tomorrow about the petition—” Amanda mumbled absently as Rick caressed the end of her locks softly, giving her a small bob of his head. Amanda wondered if he left Judy for being alone with her, or—or because of the pills. Somehow, she couldn’t decide, but perhaps it was the best for tonight. She swallowed, biting her bottom lip, gathering her courage.

“Rick—” she called out, staring at him openly laying on her back, his hand still stroking through her hair. “I—I took the other pill.”

His hand stilled, looking at her, but he nodded again a second later. “A’right.” His opaque blue eyes were open and earnest, but Amanda couldn’t read relief or disappointment in it. His hand eased from her hair and neck downwards as his eyes never left hers. He took her hand under the covers, leaning over her again to brush a light kiss over her lips. “I take a shower.”

Amanda bobbed her head. She tried not to get pensive, overanalyze, ponder over his reaction or his silence. He’d said he was fine with anything she chose, and Amanda believed the words. But she also knew there was relief in him, even though Amanda couldn’t read it in his expression. It was the best for everyone, Amanda told herself again, staring at the ceiling, her eyes burning, her stomach feeling weird. The best. They had to look ahead now.

Rick emerged out of the bathroom wearing his faded dark grey sweatpants and a white shirt. His hair was still damp, his feet bare. Even looking at him gave Amanda a stir that made her stomach get worse. She closed her mouth with the back of her hand, sliding back to make room for him as Rick didn’t move over to her behind but stayed at the edge of the bed.

He slithered under the covers where she’d moved away and tucked her against his chest as he lay on his back. His arm curled over her waist, towing her closer to himself when Amanda rolled on her side. His fresh smell didn’t upset her stomach, instead settled her down. But only for a second. Suddenly another surge of nausea hit her, and Amanda jolted up from the bed, leaping over Rick, and ran to the bathroom.

She was on her knees in front of the toilet when she felt callous but gentle hands pulling her hair back away from her face while Amanda heaved out her empty stomach. Holding the flush’s edge, she darted her eyes up at Rick who was bent down over her, still holding her hair back as he frowned at her bile. It was almost transparent, opaque green with her saliva and stomach acid.

“Didn’t you eat tonight?” he asked, tossing her a look, his hands still at the nape of her neck.

Amanda shook her head a bit. “No. Didn’t want it.”

She heard a deep sigh, then a mutter. “Sometimes you’re as worse as Carl…”

Amanda decided to pass it by as another surge hit her before she started heaving out again. Crouching beside her, Rick moved up his right hand over her forehead and held her head back, his other hand still holding her hair at the back of her neck. The gesture was almost soothing as she retched with gagging sounds. Something people did to you when you were sick. Like Amanda was now. It almost even sounded romantic until she remembered she was down on her knees, puking her guts out.

Her stomach settling down, she slowly pushed up, her vision momentarily blackening. She raised her arm and Rick quickly caught her, steadying her. “Easy there—”

She gave him a sloppy nod and turned aside toward the mirror. When she saw her face, she almost made another gagging sound. It was so pale, beneath her eyes dark with shadows. Her eyes were dimmed, too, having a forlorn look. She couldn’t believe she became like this just because of hormones. Suddenly alarmed and afraid, she passed a hand over her forehead and felt it damp and cold. No fever.

Her beating heart slowed, and she realized Rick had also checked her fever when he found her in the bathroom, thinking of the same. She didn’t know if she caught a cold, or it was just her body reacting to the hormones in the pills, but she didn’t have a fever. She wasn’t infected.

She reached for the towel after washing her face, suddenly feeling so tired. “Amanda—” Rick called out, walking closer to her. When she dropped her hand down, in the mirror he saw her standing just behind her. “I’m sorry.”

Amanda shook her head before she repeated, “You don’t have to be.”

# # #

The way she looked hurt him so deeply that Rick wanted to trash the whole room, break everything.

Why the women he loved had to suffer through the consequences when he screwed up each time? Because I love you. He had said it. It wasn’t how Rick had wanted to do it, but he’d finally said it again. Looking at her eyes, caressing her cheek, wiping off her tear, Rick had finally said it. It had been so easy, words leaving him effortless. She didn’t say it back, but Rick didn’t care, not at the moment. He knew she did, as he also knew she wasn’t ready.

He wrapped his arm over her waist and rested his forehead on her shoulder. He wanted to tell her again he was sorry, but he knew it didn’t mean anything. It doesn’t look like anything to me. It wouldn’t look like anything to Amanda, either.

She took the other pill.

Rick still didn’t know how he felt about it, even though he’d told her he would accept everything. It was the only truth Rick knew. He could accept everything as he did with Lori. If Amanda wanted to try their chances for this baby, Rick would’ve stood beside her. It hurt to hear those words from her lips. He would never abandon her. But now that Amanda had made her decision, Rick didn’t know if he should feel sad or relieved.

Self-blame was easier. They weren’t out of the woods yet, even though the pills seemed like working. They would never know for sure, not until Amanda’s cycle started again and she menstruated. Or did not.

Rick found himself not still being able to think on that prospect, so he drew back from her shoulder and turned aside to look at her. “You need to eat something. An empty stomach makes the sickness worse.”

Amanda gave him one of those absent nods she’d been giving all day. Leaving the bathroom, Rick walked out of the room, too, and quickly ran down to the kitchen. Carol had done some cookies again. Amanda loved cookies. They could fill up her stomach. He thought of preparing her the hot milk powder, honey, and cocoa mix Carol also did for Mika, but afraid it would upset her stomach further, Rick went with her herbal tea with a generous amount of honey. Putting them on a tray, Rick carried them upstairs.

When he returned, holding the tray with one hand, the other opening the door, Amanda was tucked under bedcovers again. Still pale, she looked a bit better, color returning to her face. She had no fever, thank god, something that soothed down Rick enormously. He set down the tray on the bed stand, sitting on the bed’s edge again.

Raising her head an inch, she gazed down at the tray. “Cookies?”

Rick nodded. “Yeah. I also brought your tea.”

“Thank you—” she mumbled, sitting up in the bed, resting her back against the headboard.

Taking it back from the bed stand, Rick placed the tray over her lap. “Both of them are gonna finish—” he warned as Amanda made a low sound close to a snort. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Rick waited.

Slowly, she took a piece of the cookie and started munching it. After she gulped, her hand hesitated, her eyes on him. “W-we couldn’t do it, Rick.”

The words pierced through his chest again, but Rick gave a brief bob of his head. “I know.”

She ate the rest of the cookies silently. When she was finished, Rick took the tray and put it on the bed stand again before he came back to the bed. “What do you want? Do you want to sleep? Or we watch a movie or listen to music?” Rick inquired. She looked tired, but it was also early evening.

Amanda shook her head, sliding down over the bed and resting her head on the pillow with a mutter. “I’m too sick for your country music…”

Rick gave her a small smile before she pointed the book next to the tray on the bed stand with her head. “Can-uh—can you read for me?” she asked tentatively, her voice still low. “I tried when you were out, but it sickened me worse.”

Rick smiled further, reaching out to the book then slipped beside her in the bed again as she made room for him. Stuffing the pillows and resting his back against the headboard again, Rick opened the book. “Do you know where you left off?”

“Finished the first chapter—” she mumbled, fidgeting as she nestled herself against him. She cradled beside him, sliding a leg between his while Rick wrapped his arm with the book across her upper torso, feeling her socked feet beside his bare ones. “But can’t remember it fully. Start from the beginning.”

It’s never too late to start anything. Her words echoed in his mind as Rick started reading. It had to be right, it was never too late to start over. His eyes darted at her as she made herself more against him, her head resting on his chest as she listened to him reading to her peacefully. There was that soothed expression over her face once more, that well-fed, tamed big cat as she curled around him. A week ago Rick wouldn’t have dreamed of them like this.

Rick stopped when he finished the first chapter again. Amanda’s hand had crept up under his shirt like the first time they read together, trailing over his stomach idly. The urge to kiss her was so strong in him again, to take her under him and kiss her, bury himself in her completely, have that feeling again, but Rick didn’t trust himself tonight.

No. He didn’t want anything to disturb their peaceful tranquility, but he still knew they needed to talk. Twisting, Rick put the book back on the bed stand. She lifted her head at him. “What do you want to do with Joan?”

In the dim light of the lamp, her green eyes grew darker with uncertainty. “I don’t know. I truly don’t know what we can do—” she spoke slowly, looking at him as if she was trying to find an answer. “I—I mean, how can you help someone if she doesn’t want you to help? Force it down in her throat?”

Resting her head back on his chest, she shook her head. “Even the shrinks say the same—” she mumbled in that absentminded way, pensive, head in the thoughts. “They let you sit down in silence for hours if you don’t want to play. I once sat down a whole hour silently in front of the department’s shrink, refusing to talk.”

Startled, Rick bowed his head, his gaze darting below to check her. Amanda was staring ahead, tucked under his arm, but she didn’t react further. Gulping lowly, Rick tried his chances. Amanda hated talking about her past, but the way she gave him an opening, Rick couldn’t let it pass away. “Was it after you killed the drug dealer?” he asked in a whisper.

“Yeah…” she mouthed out. Her eyes snapped up for a second. “Did you ever kill anyone on duty?”

His hand tensing on her, Rick gave her a quick nod. “Yeah. Suicide by cop—” he replied. “It was a small grocery robbing. He was already in a frenzy when we arrived at the scene. Started shooting randomly after seeing us.”

Rick had still felt awful, couldn’t sleep for days, and had seen the department’s shrink but that was the part of their job too. Yet, he knew Amanda’s story was much more complicated than that. “Saw a couple of times the department’s shrink too—” he went on, urging her to share more.

Amanda bobbed her head again. “Yeah…” She paused, then added with a small voice. “I was suspended.” It was what Rick had been afraid of. The drug traffickers weren’t like homeless people who had a death wish. Rick stayed silent, not wanting to disturb her flow. “IA suspected mob ties. There was this man, Elias, his rival. They were butting heads to gain territory for years. IA thought Elias put me on it.”

Rick tightened his arm over her, bringing her closer to him, the muscles in his arm even tensing further. It was exactly what Rick had been afraid of. In silence, he brushed his lips over her hair. She looked up at him.

“Half of his recruits were from the homes. My childhood friends…People I didn’t even see for years,” she continued. “I'd cut off my ties with all of them before I started community college. I was afraid something like that would happen. But they still threw their photos at my face, accusing me with their bullshit.” Her fire ignited again, her eyes alit, sparkling emerald, sharpening. “I told them what it was, then got suspended.” She let out a deep sigh, resting herself back against him. “Dawn pulled the strings later to have me back. Vouched for me.” A very, very bitter sound left her lips. “And never stopped dangling it over my head.”

Rick held back his sigh. He’d always suspected there was more to Amanda’s relationship with her manipulative commanding officer, so he wasn’t surprised to hear that Dawn had been trying to keep her at her beck and call since then. He wondered what exactly had happened, too, how they drew guns on each other in a dead-end alley, what she had been doing there, but he was smarter than asking her that. She still hadn’t touched on those parts, and Rick didn’t want to push her, afraid she would retreat again.

“She knew what being a cop meant for me—” she muttered after the brief silence.

The words pierced his chest this time. Anyone who spent a few minutes with Amanda could have easily understood what being a cop meant for her. Rick recalled the demented way he’d caught her cleaning her uniform in the washroom of the prison before they went to Grady, pulling her closer to his chest.

He wanted to tell her she was much more than that, so much, so much more, but suddenly she lift her head and asked him, propping her chin on his chest. “Do you miss it? Your uniform, do you miss it sometimes?”

Rick remembered then the night he’d put down his uniform in the drawer in the farm after Carl’s shot, the way he had felt, and how he had felt when Deanna gave him back the uniform. Missed it, yeah, sometimes, but it simply didn’t belong to him anymore. He’d outgrown it.

With a sigh, Rick admitted it too. “Yeah, sometimes. But—but I outgrew it—” he answered truthfully. “I put it down in the farm after Carl got shot and never wore it again.”

Her eyes widened. “Carl got shot?”

“Yeah. It’s how we found Hershel’s farm,” Rick replied and recounted to her what had happened, how Carl was shot by a strayed bullet in the woods, looking for Sophie after Rick had lost the poor girl.

She listened silently, then after he finished, she rested her head back on his chest. “You said you were faster too—” she remarked in a mutter after a while, her head laying under his chin. “Was it before or after?”

Rick recognized the question. He hadn’t answered her when she’d asked it at the day they met, told her it didn’t matter anymore, but now, when they were like this, when she was with him like this in his arms, it did matter.

“After—” he answered. “It-it was my first time after the outbreak. My first kill.”

Briefly, he summarized what had happened again, how Shane had lost it and opened the barn’s door, and what Hershel had been doing. How they found him in that bar then, and what Rick had to do to get them out of there. Her eyes had grown so soft, turning lighter as she listened to him. Rick hadn’t talked about that night to anyone after Lori, never mentioned it again. He did what he had to do to protect himself, but as he spoke, he felt something lifting off his chest as if he was confessing something that he wasn’t aware of that he needed.

When he finished, Amanda stayed silent for a few seconds before she spoke slowly, “He shouldn’t have done that.”

Rick shook his head. “No. He shouldn’t have.” He finished the tale there, not wanting to go any further about how they found Randall or what happened with Shane afterward. Rick felt tired, too tired, the ghosts of the past almost breathing with them.

There was something in him that urged him to go out and make another round. It was getting late in the night. He wanted to go up in the nest and took a watch, but he didn’t want to leave her at the same time. 

“I don’t want to fight with Joan—” Amanda said in the same low voice after their long silence, darting her eyes up at him. “She thinks me of a selfish bitch and I don’t want it, either,” she confessed, leaving the rest of the words unsaid, but Rick didn’t need to hear them. I don’t want to look the other way.

Amanda had become as involved as Joan with Jessie Anderson like Carol had warned him, but Rick didn’t want to stop her anymore. He couldn’t do it to her. He could still remember the way she was when she had confessed everything that happened at Grady to him that night in the prison. Rick knew if she didn’t do something now, despite all the justifications and excuses she tried to come up with to stay back, she would never forgive herself.

Rick couldn’t let her do this to herself. On his behalf, nevertheless. Never.

“Go on then—” he told her simply. “Talk to Jessie again like Joan wants. Give her another chance.”

“But if Anderson—”

“Anderson is my problem—” He interrupted her, his mind getting decisive. “You don’t worry about him.”

# # #

Cocooned by Rick’s warmness and his musky scent, their limbs tangled to each other, Amanda accepted it was the best way to start a new day. She groggily blinked against the sunlight, rousing from sleep, gazing at the twirling dust specs in the hazily lit room before she slowly tilted up her head that still lay over Rick’s chest, feeling his moist skin and hair chest, his musky scent filling in her stronger.

His eyes were already open, of course, his blue clear and fully awaken, watching her as she slept. It would have set her off, but something must have finally shifted between them after the last night as Amanda didn’t feel any uneasiness or oddness. The part of her that couldn’t believe that they had talked about the past, telling each other stuff they usually never talked about, was still feeling tranquil, instead of being alert. Even her stomach was settled down, soothed.

The thought brought back why she had felt sick, though, but Amanda pushed it down easily. She didn’t want to disturb the moment as Rick was still looking at her with those intense clear blue eyes. Amanda normally would have felt awkward too, but she didn’t run her eyes away this time or make a move to get up from the bed.

Rick’s hand found her hair and pushed it over her shoulder. “Mornin’,” he told her, his voice rough and thick with sleep and more. “How ya feelin’?” Rick asked, his hand continuing to play with her hair.

The gesture made her smile a bit, snuggling him closer. “Better—” she mumbled as just at the moment, her stomach agreed with her, too, making a low grumble. Her cheeks flushing, she bowed her head on his chest. “My stomach feels better too, I guess.”

Rick let out a low chuckle. “That’s good to hear.” He nudged at her shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get up. You take a shower, I’ll prepare ya breakfast. You ate almost nothing last night.”

Before she could even open her mouth, Rick had already sprinted away from the bed, heading to the bathroom. Shaking her head a little, Amanda rose on her elbow on her side and peeked to check the crib. Judith was still sleeping like an angel, and it was a relief. Sprouting her teeth, the baby girl deserved a good night's sleep. Rick emerged out of the bathroom, walking to the closet to change his clothes.

“What’re you going to do today?” he asked, shedding his sweatpants. Ducking her head a little, Amanda tucked her hair behind her ear, her gaze checking Judith again. “Will you come with us to the quarry or do you want to stay in?”

Amanda knew he would prefer her to stay in the town and rest after last night, and the thought didn’t bug her as much as it would’ve once done. She’d even thought of it herself too, but Rick offering it had always made her defensive before. Not this time.

“I thought of staying in last night—” she replied truthfully and sweeping her legs down over the floor, she sat on the edge of the bed. “I want to talk to Carl and Clarice about this petition, get a feel of the town.” She paused. “I don’t want the list or the herd to create more buzz for Carter to twist the facts in his favor.”

Rick nodded, zipping his jeans before he reached out to take his blue denim shirt. Despite her mild awkwardness, the moment almost felt domestic, them like this getting ready for a new day, and she liked that. Spotting his duty belt on the round table beside the closet as Rick started buttoning himself, Amanda stood up and walked over to him.

“Yeah—” Rick said, bobbing his bowed head, his hands fastening the last buttons under his collar. “Keep an eye on the man. Also on Anderson. I suspect he might be on it, as well.”

Her eyes caught the glimpse of his silky hair under his throat through the slit of the shirt before she snagged his duty belt from the table and handed it to him. “I’ll talk with Jessie too.”

His hand halted for a split second as he took the belt from her, his eyes finding hers, then he gave her another small bob of his head. “Okay.”

It was a simple thing, not having the intensity of the moment they shared in the bed last night, Rick telling her she shouldn’t worry about Pete Anderson, words intense and intent, but also simple. For a second, Amanda wondered if that was how he’d simply killed the man who drew his gun on him, to protect himself. I know it wasn’t going to be me, he’d told her last night, so I drew my gun and shot him.

There was a part in her that wondered if it was what she felt too, drawing her gun when she saw the drug dealer reaching to his, understanding the man had led her into a trap, a trap she’d walked into with her own feet. Amanda never let herself think about it much, but in the end, she did the same. She drew her gun and shot the sonofabitch.

Her eyes turned over to him again as finishing with cinching his duty belt, Rick tucked his gun inside his waistline at his back under his shirt and covered it. “When will you talk to Carl?” she inquired, remembering the missing gun, too.

They’d better found out what had happened to that gun. Amanda didn’t want to speculate, but a missing gun was always bad news. If Deanna learned that they broke in the armory, then let one of the guns snatched away from them, well, Amanda didn’t look forward to such a conversation.

Rick shook his head. “After I return. If it’s him—”

Amanda cut him off. “Don’t react—” she warned. Rick turned and started walking over to her beside the table. “If he took it, just listen to him first before shooting at him daggers.”

He put his hands gingerly on her waist, leaning on in her. “I’m gonna try—” he muttered as Amanda waited for a kiss, but instead he just rested his forehead against hers, tilting his eyes up at hers. “I might even let him have it.”

Amanda shook her head a little, pulling an inch back from his delicate embrace. “No. Rick, we talked about it before—” she replied in the same low voice he’d talked. “No guns for anyone but us.”

“Carl—”

“Is safe—” Amanda completed it, interjecting his words. “If it’s him, we hide it inside the cache in the house.”

Staying immobile, he looked like he was going to reject her idea, but the next second, he nodded. “A’right.” They stared at each other after then, Rick gently pulling her closer to himself again, dipping his head, but before their lips met, Judy let out a wheezing sob behind them.

In each other’s arms, they turned their heads towards the crib. “You go take a shower—” Rick told her with a ghost of a smile, taking a step back to swagger over to Judy. “I look after her.”

When Amanda walked out of the bathroom, she was alone in the bedroom. She quickly changed into her clothes again, folding her pajamas, then put them inside the closet beside Rick’s. Her eyes shifting, she caught her backpack under the table where she’d left it last night after changing into her pajamas, feeling sick.

Amanda mulled it over her mind for a full minute before she grabbed the backpack and started unpacking. She wasn’t moving into his room entirely, but much like the other toothbrush in the bathroom inside the mug beside his, she wanted her clothes inside his closet too. She’d told him she wanted to be with him when they had sex, and she had meant it. They still needed time, but they could start over. It wasn’t too late. The truth was that Rick was right. When she was in the next house, she never felt like she belonged there.

Amanda heard voices from downstairs, pulling her out of her musings. Inside the kitchen, Carl was there with Judith, Carol, and Beth. Rick already had left. Passing her hand over Judy’s head as she walked by her highchair, spooning her oatmeal, Amanda turned to Carl. “Carl, can you fetch Clarice for me?” she asked the teenage boy as he gave her a half nod before he sprinted out.

Beth turned to her, having a cross expression over her face. “What’s this about?”

Amanda quickly summarized Clarice’s plan for another petition in their favor. Beth looked thoughtfully suspicious. “She said she’s gonna do it?” she asked.

“Yeah—” Amanda replied. “She said there’re people here who like us, and she’s right.” She fixated a look at the teenager. “I want all of you to start asking townspeople to vote for us, no need to be discreet, either. Carter and Anderson have become…loud. It’s time we make some noise too.” She turned to Carol. “Carol, can you look over them?”

The older woman gave her a nod before she questioned. “Of course. But where are you going?”

“I need to talk to Joan—” Amanda answered, walking out of the kitchen. Leaving the house, Amanda strode towards the infirmary. When she walked in through the open door, Amanda saw once again the surgeon neglecting his duties, and Amanda couldn’t be happier with that fact right now. Joan was hunched over the table with Daryl, looking over a book, a few herbs lying on the table beside them.

Joan didn’t give her any heed as Daryl shot her a look, then quickly understanding something was off between them, he mumbled to Joan something Amanda couldn’t hear. Joan gave back him a terse nod, her eyes on the page.

Daryl tipped his head at her while passing her by beside the door before he left them alone. Amanda closed the door again. It drew Joan’s attention for a second, her eyes narrowing. After both times she closed the door of the infirmary, she had asked the former nurse either condoms or morning after pills.

“Joan—”

“I don’t have any condoms left—” she cut off Amanda. “They’re finished.”

She shook her head. “I’m not here for condoms—” she replied. “I want to talk.”

Joan made a noise. “I’m not interested in hearing your excuses, Amanda. Save them to yourself.”

“We’re playing it at the wrong angle—” Amanda replied serenely, ignoring the former nurse’s remark, ignoring the subtle pang it caused in her chest. “Jessie is too proud to accept help.” Like someone she knew very closely, Amanda thought for a split second, before she continued, “I have an idea.”

The thing was that much like Amanda, Jessie Anderson turned defensive whenever someone offered her help. They had nothing but best intentions, but like how it didn’t matter to Amanda when Rick offered her to take care of her, it also didn’t matter to Jessie. Much like her, Jessie also seemed like she hated being thought of weak and vulnerable, instead preferred keeping up appearances. Truth be told, if their positions were reversed, Amanda would have never accepted their help, either.

But if someone asked her for help, perhaps it would make a difference. It had done with Amanda.

“I thought about it last night, how can you help someone who doesn’t want your help—” Amanda continued, her voice pensive like last night, walking closer to her. “Perhaps we got it all wrong, Joan. What we’re trying to do…We’re trying to help her, but we’re also treating her as a sort of damsel in distress. How much would you like it if someone treats you in that way, victimizing you?”

The way Joan’s eyebrows clenched told Amanda that the woman liked the notion as much as her. “So what do you suggest?” Joan asked with the same openness Amanda had talked.

“Clarice starts her petition today. Carl and Beth are going to help her, but we need more support, more people to sign in our favor. We go and talk to her, ask for her help. Ask her to stand for us.”

“She said Anderson doesn’t want her to mingle with us. Why would she do that?”

“Because it’s the right thing? Because she knows Rick is right?” Amanda encountered. “She is a smart woman, Joan. She knows what’s going on, what’s at the stake.”

Joan’s eyes narrowed further. “You’re trying to get her to stand up to her husband.”

“It’s better than to act like she’s a damsel in distress waiting for someone to rescue her,” Amanda admitted with a little sigh. Frankly, it was the only course of action she could think of. “And we need her help, too,” she went on because it was also the truth. “She’s a respected community member, the teacher of our children, his wife,” she pointed out.

Every vote mattered, every person that wanted them here mattered, but if they also had Jessie Anderson on board, well, that would be more than just someone wanting them to stay. Everyone knew now what had happened in the sewers, Carter and the surgeon had also made sure of that.

“She can be our ace in the hole,” Amanda finished for the last.

Joan stayed silent for a few seconds, her dark eyes sober and reflective as she mulled over the idea. “I told Daryl yesterday perhaps we should ask her participation more in the watches and patrols,” she remarked slowly after a while. “Thought contributing to the town in that way would be good for her, reminding her self-worth. She’s at the top places in your list.”

Amanda nodded, her expression easing, agreeing with her friend’s point. What Joan did with Daryl, going out there, learning how to hunt and forage, being useful, made a difference to the woman. No one liked feeling useless like a pretty wallflower, Amanda understood that better than anyone.

The conflict was still in her, her need to make herself useful to feel safe and secure, learning at a young age if she was useful in the houses, she might have a better chance for stability, but there was also that part of her that wanted to feel only wanted for just being who she was, not because she was good to keep around.

It still scared her, being vulnerable in that way, but she guessed that was one of those things she needed to learn to accept if she wanted to have deeper, earnest connections, not just with Rick, but with everyone else. Amanda also had meant what she told Rick. She wanted all of them to be welcomed in the town not only because they were good at killing rotters. They were more than that. I want more than this, Amanda. This isn’t a living.

She shook her head inwardly out of her whirling musings and nodded at Joan. “Yeah. That would work. God knows we need help. We barely slept in the last days.”

“I know—” Joan replied. “I thought of it after I learned you asked someone else to take your shift the night before.”

Amanda bobbed her head again. “All right, let’s go and find her.” Her eyes swept around the grounds. “Do you know where the douchebag is? It’s still better we keep it between us before Jessie brings it up to him.”

When Joan answered negatively, they left the infirmary. They started with the community center first and found it crowded with a handful of people that grew silent when they walked into the lounge room. But among the crow, Jessie wasn’t there. She saw a glimpse of Anderson though, glaring at her list that Rick had hung on the wall with the others. The other’s body language was tensed and awkward as if they didn’t know what to think of it.

The news of the herd must have made them even more scared. She had another mission today, so Amanda didn’t bother to soothe them down but nudged Joan after they started receiving nasty glances. When they turned to leave, Amanda hoped Clarice was right, that they were going to get enough people to sign in their favor to beat their numbers. Jessie’s vote would really matter.

They checked the school on the second floor the next, finding it empty before they headed to the pantry. Jessie was the person who had brought them the supplies on their first day here, and Amanda had seen the woman helping Olivia a couple of times after the school was closed.

Her guess was spot on as Jessie was making an inventory inside, checking the cans on the shelves. She shared a glance with Joan, who returned it in the same way, thinking of the same. If they also made an inventory for the armory, they were going to be in deep shit. It didn’t seem the case, and Amanda made a mental note to bring it up to Rick that perhaps they had to start considering putting back the guns they had taken. Like Deanna had said, they didn’t need any other conflict between the townspeople and their group, especially when it was about them breaking into the armory.

When they stood in front of the shelves, Jessie didn’t spare them even a look. Her face was expressionless, her eyes flickering between the cans on the shelves and her inventory, not moving her attention from her job.

“Jessie, do you have a moment?” Amanda asked politely.

The blonde woman shook her head. “Deanna wants the inventory finished before midday. Olivia needs help.”

“Where’s she?” Amanda couldn’t help but ask, getting alert.

“Checking the meat locker.”

Amanda let out a silent breath of relief and questioned further as if she was trying to make small talk. “Busy day, huh? Counting cans and bullets—” she commented as airy as she could manage.

Jessie’s expression didn’t move an inch. “We’re scheduled for the armory tomorrow. Deanna prioritizes food first.”

For that, Amanda felt eternally grateful. She shared a look with Joan, insanely grateful that they had come to talk to Jessie, too, not only for their first reason, either. God. If Deanna found out there were missing guns in the town, which there was actually one, Amanda reminded herself the next second. Rick had better find that gun today!

Jessie gave them a look, noticing their brief silence and reading it wrong. “Look, I already told you—” The woman’s tone turned a bit frustrated as she finally turned to them. “I don’t need your help.”

“No—” Amanda refused, staring back at her openly. “You misunderstood. We came to ask your help.”

Notes:

Here it is...Amanda, at her best, being cunning and resourceful. I really don't want to lose that part of her, as she was really very smart, cunning, and resourceful woman in the canon, quick on her feet :) And I also wanted to play a different aspect of 'saving' someone, as that has never been my aim with Joan and Amanda with their subplot with Jessie.

You possibly can imagine how much I waited to make Amanda and Rick share about their past, I mean, finally! Needless to say, I also wanted Rick to take care of her as she gets sick because of the pills, helping her, holding her hair as she pukes... it's gross, but also romantic in a weird way, right? Compassion is really very...romantic, heh.

Don't forget or hesitate to tell me what you think...like always!
Until the next time!

Chapter 41: 'He already made Pete worse'

Summary:

As Amanda and Rick try to deal with the upcoming inventory for the armory and the missing gun, the situation in the Anderson family escalates.

Notes:

There's a Pete Anderson POV in this chapter, thought it deserves a trigger warning on its own. Ugh.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Rick didn’t expect to see her again after he left the house until he came from outside. He’d been making his tour around the wall as Aiden and Abraham arranged their teams before they left for the quarry’s blockade, but when he saw her face as she marched toward him with those purposeful strides, Rick realized she hadn’t come to kiss him goodbye.

They had gotten over the morning much better than he’d expected, no tantrums or panicked hissy fits, Amanda not pulling back, either, even after opening up to him about her past. It was hard and heavy in the dark, but the soothed, calm domesticity of the morning made Rick feel better and more hopeful that they would really do this, start over.

That was how Rick wanted to start a new day, watching her as she groggily roused from her sleep in his arms. Her toothbrush beside his in the bathroom, her clothes beside his in the closet. Rick had seen her backpack last night. She had brought more than just her pajamas. She hadn’t unpacked yet, the backpack was still under the table, but she’d come prepared.

The sex part was still going to be problematic, but Rick knew they were going to cross over that bridge when they saw it. Slow. Rick had to go slow. Amanda was truly catlike, coming and going as she liked, but she still needed time much like she said herself. She wanted to be with him. She couldn’t tell him back the words, couldn’t tell him back she loved him, but Rick knew she did. He felt her love even when he didn’t hear it. Amanda’s actions always spoke louder than her words.

Not that he would mind to hear it from her lips, telling him she loved him. He stopped the thought, not letting himself overthink and screw up what they had managed to build so far. Her cheeks were flushed from her exercise and morning chill, but her eyes were as cool as emerald.

“Hey—” Rick called out as she stopped beside him, but she even didn’t bother to make small talk before she announced darting a sideways look to check around to make sure they were alone.

“We’ve got a problem—” she stated, her eyes turning to him.

Rick of course wasn’t surprised. “Yeah. I gathered that,” he encountered. “What happened?”

“Joan and I went to talk to Jessie—” she started. Rick hoped it wasn’t something about the Anderson family, he really wished. He’d accepted it last night, he couldn’t have done anything else after seeing her like this, eating up herself with guilt, but Rick still didn’t want to deal with Pete Anderson even a bit.

But if wishes were the horses. “We found her in the pantry,” Amanda continued. “Deanna wanted them to make an inventory.”

Rick’s eyebrows furrowed. Amanda wouldn’t have gotten this roused because of counting cans and spaghetti. And that meant… “She was checking the pantry with Olivia. They’re gonna check the armory tomorrow.”

His jaw clenched as Amanda gave him a look. “We need to put back the guns we took, Rick.”

Rick cut her off, shaking his head. “No. I’m not giving up on the guns.” He took a step closer to her, his eyes getting heated. No. He wasn’t going to sit ducks here without means to protect his family. “I still don’t trust these people, Amanda. We can’t stay without guns.”

Her expression grew more agitated too as she shook her head back at him heatedly. “Rick, think about it. If Deanna finds out we broke into armory—”

“If she learns, she learns,” he replied simply and repeated. “I’m not giving up on the guns.”

She shot him a glare. “Rick, really! Are we going to make this talk again?!”

Rick closed in her further. She looked even angrier now, and another fight with her was the last thing Rick wanted to do right now, but he still couldn’t accept this. He tried to soften his voice before he spoke, trying to make her understand. “Baby, you wanted to keep the other guns in secret, I said yes. But we can’t let them go. If things go south, we’re gonna need them.”

She still jerked her head, refusing his point. “Clarice starts her petition—” she countered. “We asked Jessie to sign in our favor. That’s why we went to her.”

That surprised him, momentarily making him forget about the guns. “You asked Jessie Anderson to sign for us?”

She bobbed her head quickly. “Yeah, I did. She gets defensive when people offer her help,” she went on, darting her eyes away for him for a second. “I thought maybe she would react differently if we ask her help.”

Rick eyed her, watching her closely as she turned her eyes at him. Her expression didn’t let Rick wonder if she was aware that she was also talking about herself. She knew, and much like every time, she found a solution, refusing to quit. Briefly, Rick recalled how fiercely she had hugged him when he had told her how much he liked it when she held his back.

The urge to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless was strong in him again, but Rick smiled faintly at her. “Good idea.”

It wasn’t only a good idea, but a cunning one, almost a sly manipulation if you looked at it that way, but that was the woman Rick had fallen in love with, too. The woman he also needed. The woman they all needed. Times like these made it so apparent to him, sometimes Rick wondered when Deanna would start getting on it, too.

“What did she say?” he questioned further.

Amanda shrugged with a little sigh, her agitation winding off. “Well, she said she’s gonna think about it, but I think she saw our point,” she replied. “She’s smart, Rick. She knows you’re right.”

After his absent bob of the head, she looked at him again, before repeating. “Guns, Rick. We need to put them back, and the ammo, too.”

Rick shook his head slowly, his reluctance showing off in the gesture. “I’m not liking it, Amanda.”

“I’m not, either, but it’s not even about Deanna,” she replied, “If they learn what we did, we just prove Carter right. That we’re people not to be trusted. I don’t want that.” She took a step closer in him, clear green eyes finding his. “Do you?”

He knew she was working…her mojo on him again, finding his chink in the armor and exploiting it, and she was damn good at it. With a subtle sigh, Rick gave in. “Fine. You go out and take the half cache from the cabin. We put them back tonight. But we need a plan how to break in.”

“I’m on it—” the dutiful reply came quickly and Rick knew she’d already drawn a plan before she came to find him. “I’ll see who at the watch duty for the armory tonight. We can shift it to one of us.”

Rick nodded back, then steeling his resolve, he gave her a look. “I am keeping Aaron’s gun.” He still could not go around in this town without a gun. He could not. “Aaron didn’t return it when we arrived. It’s Aaron’s problem, not ours.”

“Aaron is gonna tell them you took it when they realize it’s missing,” she pointed out.

“I lost it in the fight—” Rick blatantly lied with a shrug.

When Amanda gave him a look, Rick closed in her again, cupping a hand at her cheek. “Amanda—” he spoke to her in a soft but firm whisper, pushing her hair back over her ear. “I’m not wandering in this town without anything to protect y’all.”

If necessary, he could kill all with his teeth to protect his family, but Rick preferred not. His hand gently stroked her as he dipped his head and this time their lips met without interruption as she raised her head willingly. When she curled her arms around his neck, Rick deepened the kiss.

Even though they were alone at the moment away from the watch platforms, kissing her in public was so good, Rick let her go reluctantly when she drew back from their kiss. She didn’t pull back entirely, though, her arms still stayed loosely wrapped around his shoulders.

“Don’t forget to talk to Carl, too—” she told him. “We need to find that gun and put it back with the others.”

Rick nodded. “Okay.”

Her lips slowly curved upward as she smiled at him, and like a man enchanted, Rick found himself drawn back to her, but stopped himself at the last moment, holding back a sigh. “I need to go. Duty calls.”

But he didn’t move because swaying her head in that languorous way she moved in the bed when they made love, she dipped it toward his neck to rub her nose under his jaw, taking deep breaths. “Be careful and come back to me—” she whispered to him.

How he could not when he had a woman like this waiting for him? “I saw your chemise in your backpack—” Rick whispered back. “Will you wear it tonight?”

She swiftly stepped back from his arms, this time a saucy smirk on her lips. “I don’t know, Rick. Even the heating systems on, it gets very cold at night.”

Rick let out a throaty laughter. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you warm.”

# # #

After Rick and the teams left, Amanda went to find Beth. It seemed her plan to stay inside today was going to need to be reassessed. She’d already talked to Jessie and achieved more than she’d aimed in the first place. Their luck still seemed to hold up, but Amanda didn’t want to push it further. She still didn’t trust that fickle bitch an inch.

She had planned to spend more time with Judy and Mika, started preparing the advanced class she’d started thinking with the top of her lists, but well, like Rick had said, duty was calling. She needed to get back those guns ASAP.

She found the teenagers leaving the elderly Johnsons. All of them were holding a cookie in their hands. Among them, Amanda saw the supply runner from Heath’s team, the young brunette that Beth had teamed up for the watches. Amanda wondered how old he was, he didn’t look like he was older than nineteen, and whenever he looked at Beth, he had a goofy expression over his face.

With one look, Amanda knew he was head over heels for Beth, and Amanda felt good. Ron had never had that kind of expression on his face when he looked at Beth, so it was good that someone appreciated the beauty Beth had. He was quite handsome, too, not having that prickly reserved and arrogant attitude that Ron had, but your usual everyday man air that Rick and the others from their group had.

Overall, Amanda decided that she supported it, and also wanted to tell the girl. Yet, it wasn’t time for it. She turned to the teenagers. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad—” Beth quickly replied. “Johnsons signed it even without us needing to talk. I guess they heard about Carter’s list.” She paused, lifting her hand. “Gave us cookies, too.”

Amanda let out a low laugh. “Good.”

“We already know about Johnsons. They like you—” Clarice cut in heavily, checking her list. “We need to convince others.”

Turning to her, Amanda nodded at the teenage girl. “Yeah. I talked to Jessie Anderson today—” she said as Clarice’s head snapped at her. “Don’t forget to ask her too.”

“Ron’s mother?” Clarice asked to clarify, looking startled.

“Yes,” Amanda replied simply. “Ron’s mother. Go talk to her.”

Clarice still looked doubtful but nodded back. Carl was watching their exchange with an odd expression. For a second, Amanda thought if she should talk to him before Rick. Rick wasn’t going to return before the evening, but she would feel much better if she gathered all the guns back as fast as she could.

Her eyes cut over to Beth for a second, and Amanda decided to do a little bit of cop work before she talked to Carl. She tipped her head at Beth and pulled her aside from the others. “I’m going out, need to check out the safe house,” she told the teenager, “Do you want to come?”

Beth gave her a suspicious look first but then nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Before they left, Amanda brought them back to the armory and took their guns. The one Rick had given to her was still at her back, but she couldn’t leave the town without checking in with the armory first, drawing attention. In hindsight, Amanda found it almost ironic, talking into Rick about returning the guns while she carried one on her person in the meantime.

It was a bitter irony, not one that made her smile genuinely. After retrieving their guns, Amanda led them outside on foot, Beth turned to her. “Hey, everything okay?” the teenager asked as they started traipsing in the woods.

“We learned this morning Deanna wants a full inventory both for the pantry and the armory,” Amanda answered truthfully. “We need to return the guns we took before they realize they’re missing.”

“Oh.”

Amanda nodded. “Yeah.”

Half an hour later, they arrived at the cabin. They’d put the backpack inside the cabin when they had come the last time, so Amanda headed inside. When they stopped in front of the cabin’s door, Amanda drew her gun as Beth quickly covered her at the other side. Amanda didn’t even tell her, Beth just took the place on her own on instinct. Her positioning and stance were on the spot, relaxed but alert. It felt good to see Beth like that.

Amanda tossed her a glance as she made a precautious knock on the door. The door was closed with a padlock and chain, they had secured it as good as they could without drawing attention, but it never hurt to be too cautious. When no sound came from inside, she fished out the keys of her pocket and unlocked the door.

“Dylan and you—” Amanda remarked as they tentatively walked in with ginger steps. Beth slanted her a look after hearing her words. “Are you together?” Amanda went on openly. She was in open and honest talks today.

Beth threw at her another glance before faintly moving up her lips. “So you noticed, huh?”

Amanda wanted to sigh. “Yeah, I did.”

The girl’s expression turned satisfied. “Good to know.” They walked toward the corner where Rick had loosened a few wooden floorboards to hide the duffel bag inside, and Amanda started taking them off.

“Do you support it?” Beth asked, standing above her as Amanda knelt over the hole in the floor, reaching to the duffel bag.

She craned her neck up with a small smile. “He seems like a nice guy. Like his hair, too.”

Dylan had hair that looked like a few birds had made a nest inside, light brown hair unkempt, but falling over his forehead effortlessly, hiding a set of clear dark brown eyes behind. Her comment made Beth laugh too as Amanda took the bag and opened it. “I know. He says he does nothing to it, but I swear sometimes I smell hair spray from him.”

Amanda laughed. “He’s cute—” Beth continued. “A good kisser, too.”

“Hmm.” She searched through the girl’s blue eyes, raising her head again, and asked yielding to her curiosity. “Did you do it?”

Beth shook her head. “No. Not yet. Just kissed. I think I want to enjoy this fully before we start doing that. He’s a good flirt like Rick,” she went on with a satisfying sound. Amanda didn’t comment this time.

Rick was a good flirt whenever he let himself be relaxed, kind and gentle, tactile. It was just that Amanda didn’t give him many opportunities to wind down like that. Her old setbacks and insecurities that had made her think that she wasn’t the right woman for him skated over her mind, but she chased them away determinately. She was getting angry at herself for not being able to stop thinking like that, too, despite her best efforts.

“Besides, I don’t have condoms anymore—” Beth’s sudden remark interrupted her reflections regarding herself, and her hands halted over the duffel bag. “I finished the ones you gave me.”

Amanda almost made a gagging sound, her cheeks getting flushed. Beth didn’t even bat an eye. “I gave you a full package.”

The one she’d taken from Joan just before they’d broken up was full. It’d passed over three weeks, and that made… Beth smiled at her, shrugging, then even said. “It finished last week. I didn’t ask again when I broke up with Ron.” She paused. “Or he broke up with me.”

Amanda paused again. “He broke up with you?” She’d thought it was Beth who had finished up their thing, her interest moving on toward a certain brunette.

“Yeah. Sort of. I was already thinking of it last week, but then he came and said his Daddy didn’t want him to mingle with us.” Amanda sighed, unzipping the duffel bag. “He wanted me to stop talking to Carl.” Her voice suddenly turned fierce. “So I told him to go to hell.” She paused, her lips pulling down into a scowl. “I still see him watching us in the town from afar like a creep. It’s disturbing.”

There was a point in the teenager’s words. More than once, Amanda had seen Ron spying on them too, especially on Clarice and Carl. She hoped it was the usual stalking of teenagers did after their platonic crush or after a breakup. Hell, even Amanda had lost her shit and stalked Rick when he went to Beatrice’s place for dinner, drunken nevertheless.

Holding back a sigh, Amanda took her secret gun that was tucked at her back under her shirt and threw it inside the bag.

Her eyes darting over to her holster that held her Glock that she’d retrieved from the armory before they left, Beth looked up at her. “This isn’t your gun—” she stated. “Did you take one of the guns, too?”

Amanda nodded absently. “Yeah. Rick made me do it after learning about the herd. He doesn’t feel safe without guns in the town.”

“I agree.”

“We talked about it to Deanna. After we dealt with the herd, we’re going to talk and reassess the gun policy again.”

“Hmm.”

She zipped the bag again, and standing up, threw it over her right shoulder. “Beth, I need to ask you something, but I want you to be honest—” Amanda started, being open and honest again. “One of the guns we took is missing. We noticed it when we came here three days ago. Do you have an idea where it might be?”

Beth gave her a look but didn’t speak. “Rick told me Carl asked him if he could take a gun himself too—” Amanda added, keeping her voice as cool and placid as possible. She didn’t want to make a scene, didn’t want the teenage girl to get defensive. She just wanted to get the gun back so they could finish this thing and move on.

“I already talked to Rick—” she continued, trying to soften her. “He’s not going to react. But we need to have the gun back.”

Beth finally let out a heavy sigh. “The last time I know it he was trying to teach Clarice dry firing.”

Amanda gaped at the teenager in shock. For a moment, she couldn’t even speak. “H-he went out with Clarice and took the gun from our cache so he could teach Clarice dry firing?” Amanda repeated astonished.

“No. He took it to go back to the prison—” she stated calmly. Amanda only gaped at her worse. “Carl decided to go to the prison when Rick refused. He took the gun, but Clarice caught him while he was getting out of the walls—” she started explaining.

“So there were no bets to climb the wall?” Amanda asked when she finished.

“No,” Beth confirmed with a shake of her head. “Clarice made it up to cover for Carl.”

Amanda felt like her head was going to explode, what Carl had almost done. She shivered to imagine the teenage boy running again, recalling how Rick was when they understood Carl had gone out in the woods that night. “H-he still thinks of going?” she asked with a small voice.

She was also confused. Carl had told Rick he didn’t want them to leave during the mission to D.C discourse, so it didn’t make sense that he would want to go. Beth, thank god, shook her head. “No. He told me before we were going to leave for D.C that he wasn’t going to. That he wanted to stay. I guess Rick managed to talk him out of it without even knowing.”

Amanda let out a breath of relief. “We both wanted to, Amanda. Wanted to get back what we had. I wanted my father’s bible, Maggie’s bracelets. Our photos. Glenn used to take a lot of photos of us after he found that Polaroid, you know. We all left them back.”

“We didn’t have another option—” she said slowly.

“I know, but I still would like to have them,” Beth said with a shrug. “Carl wanted his mother’s photo for Judy.” Amanda swallowed lowly, her throat tightening as Beth went on. “It was the only photo Carl had. They’d lost their family albums even before they came to the farm.”

The sad feeling found her again, the helplessness she felt when she heard it from Rick first. She wished she could do something, brought what they had back, but Rick was right. They couldn’t go back. She could still remember the photos Glenn had taken, three of them together. Maggie, Beth, Amanda.

They had to make new memories, make new remembrances, she thought after then. They didn’t have a single photo together. Amanda wanted it. One all of them together, one with Judy and Chinny, and one only Rick and her. There should be a camera in the town.

 “Did you know Michonne found it in a bar when they went to Carl’s hometown to find guns before Governor attacked us the first time?” Beth suddenly asked, turning to her. “Carl said it was full with walkers but Michonne still went inside and took it back for him.”

The words hit her like a slap, and Beth narrowed her eyes at her reaction. Amanda swallowed again, her throat clenching for different reasons. What a selfish bitch she was, thinking of making new photos whereas another woman had risked her life to get back Rick’s wife's photo for his children.

She nodded, running her eyes away, and swallowed again roughly. “W-where is the gun now?” she forced out the words.

Beth shrugged. “I don’t know where they hid it after dry firing.”

Amanda adjusted the duffel bag over her shoulder with another absent nod, trying to shuffle away from the bitter thought in her insides. “Alright, let’s go.”

When they were back in the town, she thought of finding Carl and asked him where the gun was, but somehow, she just couldn’t bring herself to. There was no logical reason for what she felt, but Amanda still couldn’t help but feel it, feel like she had let down Carl and Judy.

If she was going to be with Rick, wasn’t she supposed at least to do more for his children than Michonne? Once her thoughts spiraled more than she was ready to face, Amanda stopped herself. It was best to leave it to Rick. Beth had said Rick had stopped the teenage boy without even knowing, so perhaps a real father and son talk might be good for them.

God, she hoped Rick would take the news better than her. 

 # # #

As he watched his town slowly falling into the evening gloom, Pete sipped from his tumbler, sitting in his place at the corner of the porch. Their usually serene, idyllic town was in another upheaval before the new watches changed shifts, people rushing or dashing off around their upside-down grounds.

Alexandria looking like this bugged Pete profoundly. He took a big sip from his drink, his face souring further. He hated it. He hated the rushing, he hated people scurrying around as if they were always late. Sometimes it felt like there hadn’t left any single thing from his old world since they had come. Since he had come and started making his speeches.

Pete hated it.

His life in Alexandria had been in control as much as it could be these days before he came and turned it upside down, threatening him in the meanwhile. It was almost funny the bastard made him a villain in his story whereas it was him who had started this.

Pete found it ironic if Rick Grimes ever thought of it. He wasn’t fooling Pete. Deanna might have fallen under his spell, even the whole Monroe clan, but Pete hadn’t. He had understood what kind of a man Rick Grimes was at the first time he set his eyes on him, and until now he didn’t do anything but prove Pete right.

Pete knew men like them, people used to play at the snap of his father’s fingers, asking only how far when Oswald Anderson told them to jump. They now swaggered around with a grudge that leaked off of every pore of them, thinking themselves better than them, thinking they owned everything.

Much like Dave and his men.

Pete hadn’t bought it then, always knew what they were in essence. Guard dogs. Guard dogs with a tendency to go rabid, like those Wolves they had found in the woods.

The thought angered him again, the nerve of them taking his child, his only progeny out there! It was even worse than forcing him to go to the sewers, worse than throwing one of those things at him. His child, his son.

He took another sip from his glass, his throat clenching. Deanna said they needed them, but they didn’t. When Carter finished the petition, Deanna was going to need to hear their words. They didn’t want them here. There was one thing you did with the rabid dogs, you sent them away.

You didn’t mingle with them. Like his father used to say, if you lay down with dogs, you got up with fleas. He wished Jessie and Beatrice would see it. Jessie, coming from a middle-class family that made their social standing by virtue and hardworking, valued effort and labor more than anything, and Beatrice was just Beatrice. It used to drive him insane while they were together, the way she talked to everyone, now it became even worse when Clarice started dating his boy.

Ron, thankfully, stopped seeing the blonde girl. The girl wasn’t too bad. She had a good upbringing, it was apparent from her mannerism despite her fight with Clarice, but she was still beneath Ron. The unrefined part of her almost reminded him of Jessie before he married her, before Anderson's family name had trimmed her into the woman she was today. Much like the blonde girl, Jessie had a good upbringing that allowed her to adapt to their lifestyle easily, and Pete would have accepted Beth too if things were different.

But they were not, and now, Pete only wanted them gone. Since they came, nothing but disasters found them. Rick Grimes was an agitator as much as Carter claimed him to be.

Jessie walked out on the porch, turning aside toward, giving a narrowed eyes look at his scotch. “We haven’t even eaten dinner yet—” she chastised, but Pete shook his head. He couldn’t stomach these days without some additional liquid motivation, but he knew himself. He wasn’t losing control.

The man he’d just thought about suddenly appeared in the main road, walking with quick strides with his son before they dived in the backroad, heading toward the maintenance building. His eyes flickering over his boy’s hat as they vanished behind the corner, Pete scoffed low in his throat. The warehouse was practically Grimes’ second house now. The thought brought another scoff out of him, this time more amused, bowing his head over the rim of his glass.

“Why don’t you go and help the watches?” Jessie asked, stopping in front of his knees, and Pete stared at her, lifting his head.

Go and take a watch? Like he was a guard dog? He took a sip from his scotch, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m a surgeon. My place isn’t on a watch platform.”

Her face stiffened even worse. “You’re just a little boy who only drinks and whines—” she snapped before turning around and walked back inside.

Springing to his feet, Pete followed her, wobbling in his feet. Anger boiled him, banging the door behind him as he held his tumbler with one hand. “Jessie!”

“I don’t want to hear it, ‘kay?” Jessie told him, moving away from him. “I don’t want to hear anything about how privileged we are because we’re an Anderson, Pete.”

The tumbler flew off his hand and crashed at the wall. “I’m also a surgeon—”

Sending him a glare, Jessie spun around and shook her head at the spot the amber liquid had made on the white wall. Then without a word, she turned and started walking to the kitchen. Ron came down from upstairs, looking at the hall over the staircase. “Mom?”

“Go back to your room, Ron—” Jessie ordered him as Pete wobbled toward her closer. “Jess—” he called out. She didn’t return. His feet almost tripped, and he held the wall before he tumbled down on the floor. Throwing him a look over her shoulder, Jessie shook her head.

Pete walked into the kitchen after her as she poured herself a glass of water from the counter. “Jess—” Pete tried again, holding the island. “You heard what Father Gabriel said. He’s a dangerous man.”

“That doesn’t make him wrong in what he says,” she countered stiffly. “He’s right. We need to fight!”

“I told you he started this. He came at me. He threatened me!”

She shook her head. “That’s something else. I told you to go to Deanna if that’s the case, but you don’t even do that. You do nothing!” she fired heatedly as his jaw clenched, the scotch blurring everything further in his mind. “You’re a capable person, Pete. You know how to shoot, how to fight. You can take a watch, but you just sit down!”

“I’m a surgeon—” he shouted, his voice rising with his anger, closing on in her. “Not a damn guard dog that they would snap their fingers at!”

 “Yeah, I forgot. Only Oswald Anderson could do that!”

Before Pete could stop himself, his hand landed on her cheek.

As it dropped at his side, hers raised to her cheek, her eyes widened, as Pete stared at red finger marks his blow left behind. Her eyes started watering. His heartbeat hastened, the world turning into a blur, his head turning. He made a few staggering steps, but she drew back.

“I always wondered if you’d do it again—” she told him, her hand still cupping her cheek, but her voice was now clear, despite her teary eyes, almost serene. “Clarice started a petition today in favor of them. They came to me.” Her eyes stared at him challengingly as she took a step closer to him. “I signed it. I want them to stay.”

It felt like a sudden blackout, like the lights went out, the synapses in his brain cutting off. His hand raised before it landed on her the second time.

# # #

“He did what?” Rick asked, not processing what he just heard.

They had just returned from the quarry and Rick wanted to take a shower, washing off the dust, blood, and sweat off of him, and learned if she’d rounded up the guns before he went out to make a patrol and check the armory. But before Rick could even head to the bathroom, Amanda dropped him the bomb.

“Took the gun to go to the prison—” Amanda repeated, her voice sounding calm, but Rick also knew she was trying to keep up appearances.

It still sounded to Rick as farfetched the first time. He sank on the bed, putting his head between his hands, his elbow supported on his knees. Even the thought of Carl running away again was enough to give him a killer headache.

Amanda made a move toward him, but as if sensing their presence in the room, Judy made a sob inside her crib, waking up from her slumber before the supper. Her little blonde head rose between the railings, her tiny fingers clutching around them, as she plastered her face on the fence, reaching out her hand through it for Amanda.

Hurried to the baby girl, Amanda quickly obliged. “Beth said she didn’t know where the gun was now so I wanted to wait,” she continued, turning to him after she scooped up Judith from the crib. “Thought it would be better if you talk to him first.”

Rick shook his head. “I still can’t believe it.”

Giving him a look over Judith as she rested his baby girl over her shoulder, Amanda walked closer to the bed. Her hand went to Judith’s back to stroke lightly to soothe her as Judith went on making low wheezing sobs. “He wanted to stay, Rick. Whatever you talked to him, it worked. He gave up on the idea on his own.”

Yeah, there was that, but it didn’t calm down his fears and his overly active imagination that couldn’t stop thinking about the possibilities. She nudged his knee with hers gently, still holding Judith, stopping between his legs.

 “Go take a shower—” she urged him with that calm tone. “Supper is gonna be ready soon. We eat, then you talk to Carl, get back the gun. Then we see about the armory,” she quickly lined her orders as Rick’s lips pulled up faintly. He liked her like this. Giving him orders, taking care of them, her family. It cemented his belief that they were going to be okay further.

Rick pulled up to his feet, mumbling a soft ‘yes, ma’am”, his depressive thoughts vaporizing slowly. “I arranged the watch with Aiden, too,” she went on as Rick opened the bathroom door. “Daryl is going to take the night shift. So we’re okay.”

He nodded at her, turning aside toward her over the doorway. Their eyes caught for a second as she still stroked Judith’s back, then her cheeks flushed a little, dipping her head over Judith’s small shoulder. The sight of them together brought a pang in his chest again, for what she’d had to do last night, even though it had been her decision.

Yesterday he had confessed to Carol he didn’t think Amanda was ready for motherhood, but seeing her like this with Judy still made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t put into the words. He would have called it longingly if he knew the prospect didn’t scare the shit out of him.

Sweeping aside to the door, breaking the moment, Amanda mumbled something like ‘see ya downstairs’ before she left the master bedroom.

When Rick went down to the kitchen, he saw all of them around the kitchen island, readying the supper, Judith in her high chair, playing with her giraffe and a storybook of the woods that made animal noises each time she pressed the flashy button on the page she was at. The kitchen was filled with animal noises. First, it was a horse, then a sheep. Soon she discovered the monkey and started laughing happily, pressing on the button madly.

Carol took it from her, and then she started crying. Mika gave her the doll that Amanda had brought to her from the supply run, and she threw it off on the floor.

“Judy!” Rick rose his voice an inch, standing up from his perch to pick up the doll.

Carl quickly stood and took his baby sister up from the highchair before she started crying. “She’s been ornery today—” Amanda commented when they settled again. “Her tooth sprouted, but she still feels it, I guess.”

Judith had been so ornery for days now, the thought of them being out in the woods like this sent a cold shiver across his back, mixing with that odd longing and ache in his chest he had felt.

They ate after then, the silence in the room only disturbed by Judy’s low wheezing over Carl’s lap. After the meal finished, Amanda cocked her head at him slightly as they started tidying up the table. Amanda gave him another tilt of her head as Rick brought their dishes to her.

“Son, let’s make a patrol—” he called, turning to him.

Carl shared a brief glance with Beth, and Rick understood the teenage girl already had given Carl a heads up. When they were out on the porch, stepping down from the stairs, Rick slanted a look at his son before he asked directly. “Did Beth talk to you?”

“Yeah. She did.”

Rick bobbed his head lowly, leading them toward the wall. “Where’s the gun? In your room?”

Carl shook his head. “No. I hid it in the greenhouse. I was showing dry firing to Clarice.”

“Did you take Clarice with you when you went out or she wanted to come herself—” Rick asked to clarify. Amanda hadn’t elaborated the details. She’d just mentioned there was no dare, but Carl wanted to go back to the prison, so he went out to take a gun from their secret cache, and Clarice covered for him when they got caught. Rick wanted to know now what had really happened.

“Did you take it to go back to the prison, Carl?”

Stopping, Carl turned to him below the wall. “I stopped, Dad. Didn’t go. I just thought—” his words trailed off, bowing his head.

“I didn’t care—” Rick completed it, leveling him a look.

“It was before our talk—” Carl pointed out, then defended his actions. “I thought first to be put it back but thought it’d be useful to keep around. I know you also don’t like us not armed. Besides, Clarice wanted us to practice before you start your range drills.”

This time Rick held back a sigh, knowing Carl’s decision had been partly because of the younger Reese. They started walking again, this time toward the greenhouse.

Truth be told, Carl was right, Rick wasn’t worried that Carl had stashed a gun in the town, having the means to protect himself if it came to that, just as Rick wanted, despite Amanda’s objections. There was even a part of him that felt proud that his son started teaching how to fight to his loved ones, wanting to protect them. The gun’s existence didn’t bother him. No. It was not knowing that Rick minded.

As the sky above them darkened, Rick opened the greenhouse and they walked in. Carl quickly led them over to a workbench and closet. He knelt in front of the closet and slipped his hand behind between the tinted glass walls and the closet’s back, then halted. As Rick looked at his gesture, his head whipped over to him.

Rick frowned. “What happened?”

“It’s not here—” Carl stated in a whisper, his hand swiping through the crack between the wall and cabinet frantically now. “I hid it here after the last time we practiced.”

His lips clenching, Rick stared.

# # #

“It’s gone?” Glenn asked, disbelief tinting his voice as they spread around the den half an hour later.

Supporting his weight on his hand on the round table beside the floor-length window, Rick gave him a terse nod. “Yeah. Someone took it.”

Amanda shook her head, making a little noise. She was sitting beside him at the table as Glenn took the other side. Carol was on the couch with Joan, Daryl gingerly perched on the armrest above at her side. After they returned from the greenhouse, realizing that they really had a missing gun problem at their hands, Rick had rounded them up in the den. By so far, nothing had changed.

“You asked Clarice?” Amanda asked, looking up at him, musing out. “Maybe she knows something.”

Rick jerked his head tersely. “No. We dropped by their house to see her before we came back—” Rick explained. “She said it was the last time she saw it when they hid it.”

“Can’t we—I don’t know put a gun back from our cache?” Joan asked, but Rick gave another jerk of the head in response.

“We don’t have the same brand and the caliber in our arsenal. If we put another gun, not only we reveal that there’s a missing gun, but also there’s a gun that isn’t in their inventory.”

Deanna was too cunning not to put dots together if they did it, realizing that they had a cache outside. “So what do we do?” Carol asked plainly. “They will make the inventory tomorrow.”

Rick shrugged, not knowing what they would do, aside from one thing that came to his mind, but he didn’t want to say it out loud. Amanda, on the other hand, didn’t have his reluctance. “We have to talk to Deanna. Come clean—” she stated in that placid tone, sweeping her look around them, but her calmness was more forced now as if she was trying to keep up appearances.

Rick held back a resigned sigh, but no one made a sound too until Rick finally put it in. “I’ll talk to her in the morning.” Rick didn’t want to do this, but the other alternatives were even worse. In this way, they would at least still keep their cache secret. When the dust settled, they would glean ammo again.

“So we don’t put the guns we took back to the armory?” Glenn questioned from the other side of the table.

“I don’t see why we should bother now—” Rick replied with a shrug. If they confessed and came clean like Amanda had made him with Gabriel, perhaps Rick would have even convinced the old politician to keep some of the firearms as Deanna didn’t oppose exactly the idea of them carrying weapons behind the walls, but of the timing of it.

He passed his hand through his curls, holding back another sigh, knowing he wasn’t going to be that lucky this time.

Daryl stood up from his perch. “Well, I gotta go—” he said, moving toward the door. “Still ‘ave a shift tonight at the armory.”

Rick gave a loop of the head at him as he left, Joan quickly following him too. As they left, Rick’s eyes cut over to Amanda. She’d made the necessary arrangements for tonight that they had an off-night so they all could go to the armory, so their night suddenly became free, too. Catching his glance, Amanda fidgeted slightly on her feet as if she read his mind.

“Well, I don’t know you, but I’m dead tired—” Glenn remarked with a voice as weary as he claimed to be, standing up from the table. “I’m going to bed if there’s no breaking and entering scheduled for tonight, if you excuse me.”

Carol followed his example, walking to the door as Glenn threw himself on the couch she’d just evacuated. “I’ll do the same, too, after I watch Home Alone with Mika.”

As Amanda left her seat, Rick turned to her before they started making their way toward the door too, leaving Glenn alone as he demanded.

“What do you want to do?” Rick asked after they stepped out in the corridor, closing the door behind him. Ahead of them, Carol had already vanished inside the living room. “Do you want to stay with them or want to go upstairs? We can read together or watch a movie. Judy is with Carl.”

He hoped he didn’t sound too hopeful that she would like to spend time with him alone, laying in the bed in each other’s arms. If Rick got her to wear her chemise, he would be a happy man at least tonight.

His eyes captured hers as Amanda chewed her bottom lip, staring at him. Rick almost pushed her back against the wall and had her right there. He moved a step in her, getting closer, his eyes still on hers. “It’s getting cold tonight. I made you a promise this morning if memory serves me right.”

“Yeah, you did…” she muttered.

“So upstairs?”

Her cheeks flushing, she bobbed her head. “Okay.”

With a smile as genial as her gesture, Rick took her hand, making himself another promise not to touch her until she truly got over what had happened last night. He only wanted her in his bed like that again.

Just as they took the first step at the staircase, the door buzzed. After they exchanged a brief look, Rick let her hand go and leaped toward the door, swallowing down a curse. He just wanted a night off with her again, was it too much to ask?

His rhetorical question was nevertheless answered when Rick saw who was standing at their doorstep, with a forlorn look, tear-stained cheeks, and a bleeding mouth. His insides suddenly turn to stone, feeling icy as Rick looked at the bruise at Jessie Anderson’s lips that was darkening over to her jaw.

The blonde woman’s eyes passed over his shoulder and found Amanda behind him before she asked simply. “Can I come in?”

# # #

Amanda offered the lemon balm tea she’d prepared for the woman after she’d returned from the powder room downstairs. Her face was washed, and she had a small white plaster at the corner of her mouth where it was split, because of Pete Anderson’s ring.

Even the look of it was enough to boil her blood in anger, but Amanda tried to remain calm. Rick, his expression looking as grave and cold as stone, was standing at the corner of the island, clutching the stool in front of him tightly. His knuckles whitened, his stretched arms were so tense, Amanda wondered for a split second if he could break steel. For a moment, it didn’t seem so impossible.

“Thank you—” Jessie told her, slipping on the stool next to Rick as Amanda stood in front of her at the other side, pushing the mug over her on the countertop. Her hands still had a tremor as Jessie picked up the hot tea and took a slow sip.

They all waited. They had left the kids in the living with Carl and Beth. Rick had sent Daryl outside for the watch, and Glenn to make a patrol, especially checking on the bastard. He’d warned the younger man not to get in direct contact before they understood fully what had happened. That had remained only him, Amanda, Joan, and Carol in the kitchen, and Amanda knew it was better this way to make the abused woman talk.

After taking another small sip, Jessie turned toward them, excluding Rick. “You said you can split me from him if I want—” she spoke in a small voice, trying to sound calm before asking directly. “Can you?”

Amanda answered quickly without hesitance. “Yes, we can.” She paused, her eyes flickering toward the bruise and plaster over her mouth. “But what happened, Jessie?” There was a nagging doubt in her mind too, a doubt that told her the conversation they had today might have caused this.

“We fought—” Jessie stated the obvious. “He was drinking again on the porch. I told him to do something, stop sitting idly. Take a watch or something. He doesn’t do anything, but only sulk and drinks.” She paused again, shaking her head, her calmness slipping. Her clear honey-hazel eyes shone with unshed tears. “He doesn’t do anything.”

She made a bitter sound after that, swallowing forcefully. “He told me he’s not a guard dog.” Amanda’s eyes darted at Rick and saw his jaw clenched so hard, it was a surprise he didn’t break his teeth. “You got the point. It went on like that, then I told him I signed for Clarice’s petition.”

They all shared a look, minus Carol who looked a little bit surprised as Amanda hadn’t still filled her in what they’d talked to Jessie this morning. “Then he hit me—” Jessie concluded, waving her hand over her face.

“Where’s your son?” Rick asked in a deep rasp.

Jessie turned to him, understanding his point, and shook her head. “No. He won’t touch Ron.” She paused again, making another clenched gulp before she confessed. “He never did.”

“He did it before?” Amanda couldn’t help the words, something making her feel even more rage.

“Once—” Jessie admitted. “Before we divorced. We fought, he trashed the house, broke everything, then—h-he hit me. He went to an anger management course after we broke up, he swore off the alcohol, joined AA. He stayed sober, swore to me he’d lost himself, he would never do it again, that it wasn’t him. I—I believed it. Believed in him. H-he was my husband. I loved him.”

She supported her head on her palm, bowing it as her tears fell, her words turning to sobs. Carol was the one who had come to her side, slipping an arm around her shoulder as both she and Joan just stood there, watching Jessie rooted to the floor. Amanda didn’t know what to say, how to comfort the woman, the whole situation was making her more and more enraged and depressed, hearing Jessie’s desperate confession and emotions Amanda still felt in the woman’s voice. Love. Jessie wanted to split up from him, wanted to leave, but she still loved her husband.

And the notion was so confusing, Amanda didn’t know what to think or feel. “W-we were good. He was good. He stayed sober, never raised his hand at me again…then…then the outbreak happened.”

“Shss—” Carol told her in a whisper. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re gonna help you.”

“I—I don’t want to be like this—” Jessie muffled out with a broken sob over Carol’s shoulder.

Tipping his head at her, Rick slowly moved toward the door. Amanda followed him quietly. They stood just over at the other side of the doorway.

“I’ll talk to Deanna—” Rick started as soon as Amanda closed the kitchen door to give them privacy. “It’s best she heard what happened now. Daryl is still outside on watch. You stay with them. If the bastard comes up, don’t answer.”

“Do you think we should take Ron too?” Amanda asked after she gave him a swift nod. “She says he won’t touch him, but I don’t know. I don’t feel comfortable leaving him there.”

It took only a split second to answer. “Send Glenn to gather the boy once he comes back. They stay with us tonight. Tomorrow, we'll move them to another house.”

“Talk to Deanna—” Amanda said. “The house must be closer to ours, and away from him. I don’t want them to be close.”

Rick nodded, fixing her another look. “Be careful.”

“You, too—” Amanda returned it before he turned around and walked to the main door. Amanda walked back to the kitchen.

Jessie’s cries had been subsided while she was with Rick outside. Amanda slid on the seat in front of her where Rick had been standing a few minutes ago and leaned toward her. “Jessie—” she started, trying to keep her voice soft but firm, earnest, putting an authoritative, reliable timber in it to settle down the woman more. “We’re going to help you. You’re not alone. You stay here tonight with us. We’ll pick up Ron, too. Tomorrow we’ll settle you in a new house. Rick went to talk to Deanna.”

“What if Pete doesn’t accept?” Jessie asked in a whisper.

Amanda’s answer was adamant as her lips clenched. “He doesn’t have an option—” she said forcefully. “You don’t worry about it. Rick will handle him.”

The prospect still made her wary, but Amanda didn’t see any other option anymore. Even Rick had told her so, but Jessie shook her head. Amanda cast a glance at Carol and Joan as the woman said, “You don’t understand. He’s gonna make it worse. He already made Pete worse.”

The words made her head whipped at her as her eyebrows knitted. Above her, at the other side, out of the corner of her eye, she picked up Carol’s frown too. “What do you mean?” Amanda asked.

Jessie’s red-rimmed eyes found hers. “He started this, Amanda. Threatened him first. Pete never said what it was about, but he threatened to kill Pete.”

All the missing pieces of the puzzle finally clicked as Amanda stared at the woman, dumbfounded, finally understanding what had happened.

# # #

“She’s certain?” Deanna asked as Rick sat in front of her at the study, carefully watching him with a scowl.

“He beat her—” Rick clipped in. “Her lips are split and there’s a bruise over her chin and her mouth. She can’t stay with him. He’s a drunken loose cannon, Deanna—” Rick continued. “Just drinks and be an asshole. He doesn’t even teach anything to Joan. Joan tries to learn whatever she can with the books.”

Deanna’s scowl deepened. “I noticed that, too.”

“Yeah—” Rick said, giving the woman a stern look. “I’m gonna put him in the basement for a few days. We can’t let such behavior go unpunished.”

Deanna stayed silent for a second but shook her head. “No. We put up a restriction order first and forbid him to get closer to Jessie and an anger management class with Denise—” she declared. His jaw clenched. Anger management class? Really? Before he opposed, Deanna continued. “If he breaks it, we put him in. We’re already separating them. If we punish him further, it’d turn him worse.”

Deanna was still trying to keep her surgeon intact, and even though Rick found it idiotic in their circumstances, that was how they used to do things before the outbreak. Deanna wouldn’t want to take more drastic precautions right now, not when it was about her only surgeon in the town.

But the basement, Rick realized with stark clarity, the basement wasn’t going to be enough. He’d already thought to build a proper jail after finishing with the town’s preparations, without properly understanding that the threats inside the walls were as dangerous as the ones out there.

Rick needed a jail. Keeping stupid sonofabitches alive still seemed to him a waste of time and supplies, but he’d promised Amanda he was going to take care of Pete Anderson. Despite everything, Amanda wouldn’t still be happy if Rick killed the wife beater asshole. He didn’t care, but Amanda did, like so many times she’d told him, so Rick needed a jail. Like now.

Briefly, he thought if he should come clean about the guns too as he was already here. The missing gun still bothered him, because it meant someone from the town must have found it. What if it was Pete Anderson?

The asshole did nothing but sat down on his ass the whole day out on his porch even in the cold air, drinking from his tumbler, spying on the town. Even on their first night here, the asshole had caught up Rick and Amanda returning from the maintenance warehouse. The greenhouse was next to it, so perhaps he saw Clarice and Carl leaving it…and stalked two fifteen year old teenagers?

It didn’t make sense. Rick heard from Amanda that he’d forbid his son seeing Beth, mingling with Carl and Beth, but stalking the teenagers was extreme. Even for Pete Anderson’s standards. Though, the doubt was still in him. Rick didn’t know, and he hated it.

He hated it that there was someone armed behind these walls, someone he didn’t know. He needed to find that missing gun urgently before one of these fools did something stupid.

Like Carter?

Perhaps he’d taken it, finally waking up to the reality that signing papers wouldn’t have been enough to send them off from the town. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, holding back a tired sigh. Enemies. He was circled with enemies both outside and inside.

He was so weary, so tired of it. He’d only wanted to pass this night in Amanda’s arms, keep her warm as he’d promised her in the morning. He wanted to feel the smoothness of her naked body, and the sleek beauty of her in her satin chemise. His hands ached to stroke her curves, curl up around the swells of her breasts under her silken lingerie, his tongue wanting a taste of her treasures, her hidden gems. He wanted to bury his head between her legs—

He stopped the line of thought, a stir hardening him inside his pants, and it was the last thing Rick needed at the moment. He tried to cool himself down, trying to regain his balance, his self-control. He had to do it tonight, but guns had to wait until tomorrow. He couldn’t deal with Deanna about that right now.

Rick stood up. “I’ll see ya in the morning—” he muttered before he left the study room. He needed to find Glenn and go to Anderson’s residence to pick up Anderson’s boy, but as his look swept the main road and the house beside Monroe’s, Rick didn’t see the younger Korean anywhere.

The house next to him was silent too, only a sole light coming from the living room. Deciding to check their house first to see if Glenn returned, Rick headed backward.

When he closed the door behind him with the screen door, Amanda suddenly emerged out of the kitchen, looking flushed red, but it wasn’t like gentle pink redness whenever she got shy when he flirted with her. No, it wasn’t even close to that wildly aroused demeanor she slipped into whenever her passion and lust broke over as she let herself go.

No. Amanda was furious.

Enraged.

His mind swirled at the speed of light, trying to assess what had happened after he left because something apparently did. Because behind the enraged look, there was something else in her eyes, too. Something else that broke his heart.

Hurt. She was enraged, and she was hurt.

Rick swept to her with two long strides quickly, his heart throbbing in his throat. “Amanda, baby—” he started, holding her elbow, but she yanked it back tersely.

“Is it true?” she said, getting in him closer, firing at his face in a hiss, cutting him off. “Anderson told Jessie it was you who started this. That you threatened him first. Is it true?” she asked again. “Did you do it? Did you threaten him first?”

Fear finding him with panic, Rick tried to hold her again. “It wasn’t like that—”

“I can’t fucking believe you!” She jerked away from him, her eyes shooting furious daggers at him, then without waiting for another word, she passed him by and climbed up the staircase.

Rick heard the door banged loudly upstairs when he was already at the half of the steps, running after her. “Rick, stop.” Carol’s gentle but firm order came from downstairs, making him halt.

“Leave her be—” Carol continued as Rick twisted over the railings, looking down. “Give her time to digest it.” Carol paused and pointed out to him. “She’s still here.”

With that, she returned to the kitchen, to the other women’s side, Rick supposed. Slowly, Rick trekked down, heeding Carol’s words. Carol was right, she hadn't left to the house, hell, she'd even gone up to their room to stay alone, but Rick was still so tired, so tired of it. He only wanted to pass a quiet night while he held her in his arms.

Anger found him as blazingly as hers, beating rains of fire at his edges. H-he told the bastard not to speak to anyone! To keep it between them! If only he heeded his words, if only he just kept his mouth zipped and went on his life like he’d never heard of anything about Judith. Rick didn’t want this! He was so damn tired of it!

He was going to put an end to this!

Through the haze around him, dazed, Rick understood he opened the door and started walking out.

He knew where his feet were bringing him to, and he didn’t stop.

Notes:

So we finally have come to this point! The next we're gonna have Rick smashing and falling through the windows, waving his gun around, lol.
I wanted to have Pete Anderson as a true narcissistic asshole who has got his own daddy issues, typically, and how he sees the new world after the outbreak, having digestion problems, so to speak. And of course, Rick failing to read it, and escalating him worse butting heads, having his own issues. The truth I wanted to make here is that Rick truly had started this when he threatened Pete like that out of fear and stress of learning Judith's parentage and Amanda left the warehouse like that, too... And of course, keeping it from Amanda again, not telling her he had first threatened Pete. Things are gonna become really very complicated because they also have a true missing gun now, lol! Couldn't help myself. I mean can you imagine them trying to explain the situation to Deanna? "Hey, we stole guns from you. Here they are. But we also lost one of them. Sorry' Heheh.

And, oh boy, Beth knows nothing, I mean, nothing about what she inadvertently started when she slipped Amanda that Michonne took Lori's photo for Carl and Judith, risking her own life. I was kidding myself while writing, 'Hmm, perhaps, I just need to make Carl say 'Hey, Amanda, Michonne took my mom's photo amid the walkers for Judy, what are you going to?' She would be like then 'Rick! We're going back to the prison. NOW!" Hehe.

This arc has got two other chapters too, dealing with the Pete-Rick subplot, and I'm gonna update them as fast as I can manage writing On The Horizon. I finished the fifth chapter this weekend, I'm already over 45k words, too, lol. I think I'm gonna put on the next chapter when I finish another five-chapter...Finger crossed!

Chapter 42: 'I'm finishing it, Rick'

Summary:

When things between Rick and Pete Anderson boil over, Amanda will have to take the reins and clean up after Rick.

Notes:

So finally we're at this chapter, Rick losing his shit again. In the show, this scene is one of my favorites even though I wanted to smack his head, too! Hehe. I wasn't going to post it for a while, but I couldn't sit down and focus since the weekend, not being able to write even a word, so here we are... Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sitting beside the tall window in her room, Clarice went over the numbers again, her eyes pinched in scrutiny as she gazed at the papers across her on the table. There were three sheets before her, and fifteen signatures.

Only fifteen.

If she had to be honest with herself, the number was less than she had thought, had hoped when she pitched the idea to Carl, but she kept her disappointment to herself because Carl had become depressed when it became apparent how little support they had in the town.

It’d upset Clarice too, but even after Carl and Beth left, giving up with the idea, Clarice still kept her rounds. Perhaps they hadn’t managed to get the majority, but they at least had learned that there were also a lot of people that they were going to abstain from voting. Abstention wasn’t bad for their standpoint at the moment, Clarice supposed.

Heath had claimed it first. Even though they’d been working closely with Carl’s people for the herd Carl’s father had discovered, Heath had said that they’d just arrived, and he didn’t know about these people enough to make such a decision. His team followed too with the same sentiment with a couple of other townspeople, stating that they didn’t want to get involved with the town’s politics.

It surprised Clarice more than she imagined, especially when Olivia had told her the same. Clarice had added the inventory manager to her ‘pro’ list, so she was really startled when she heard the woman’s reluctance to sign in. Carl must’ve felt likewise, too, because his face fell after the woman’s refusal.

Clarice’s bafflement turned to frustration when Shelly declared that she was going to support Carter. She’d balled her hands into fists against her sides, barely holding herself to tell the silly woman that Officer Shepherd had brought her fresh basil seeds that she had planted in a pot on her porch to make fresh pasta sauce. She knew Shelly had been trying to get the attention of Carter for a while, as he was a single man around her age, so she wrote the woman off as a lost cause, not wanting to dwell on it further.

The notion still bothered her, though, especially when Denise said she shouldn’t participate in such motions as all townspeople were her potential clients. Clarice didn’t hold back this time and reminded the therapist that Carl and his people perhaps wouldn’t have been their townspeople if they lost the petition, but Denise only said if there was a tie-break, she was going to make her decision.

Clarice’s frustration went worse after then. Deanna couldn’t give her opinion for the same reason, either. The other Monroe clan had all signed, and it was a relief. She had the rest of Aiden’s team, too, down to Nicholas who scribbled weakly with his left hand, giving her a sad, resigned smile in his house, saying he wouldn’t have been alive if it was not Officer Shepherd. He was sent off from the infirmary a few days ago, still looking haggard but they had confirmed that he was heeling, so Clarice felt a bit better after.

The Johnsons signed at the moment they started speaking, so did Tobin. The last surprise was Ron’s mother. Clarice didn’t want to go to the woman, but Officer Shepherd had told them they should, so after Carl and Beth left, she dutifully made a stop there too. She didn’t know what kind of feedback she was going to receive, but she felt grateful when she understood Ron’s father wasn’t in the house. Clarice still had that weird tenseness between her and Ron’s mother that had begun when Beatrice started dating her douchebag of a former husband. It’d only gravitated worse even after Bee broke with Mr. Anderson and they got married again, driving the wedge between Ron and herself further.

After the outbreak, Ron and she had gotten closer again out of necessity and without options, but Carl and Beth’s arrival had changed things for them, too. So Clarice really didn’t know what to expect from Ron’s mother, but when the woman accepted to sign it after a few moments of silent interpretation, Clarice took it gladly without a fuss.

She guessed Officer Shepherd had talked to her, convinced the woman to sign in their favor even though Clarice didn’t have any idea how. But combined together, with the addition of her, Beatrice, and Maria’s signatures, their numbers still only hit fifteen. Perhaps if she could manage a couple of people to abstain, Carter wouldn’t have the majority at least.

She didn’t suppose Deanna would send Carl’s father away even with the majority, but she didn’t want them to win this. Carl felt sad and angry when he realized his father wasn’t wanted in the town, and Clarice didn’t like that.

It made her feel funny.

Standing up from the chair, Clarice stood in front of the window and watched outside. The sky was already darkened with no moonlight or stars. It was the time that Clarice hated the most, the town only lightened by a few, fade street lamps on the main road that Deanna allowed to be lit. Her eyes cut over the houses that weirdly shone with the pale light, lingering on the one that was across theirs. A strange fit of nostalgia was coming to her, but Clarice couldn’t be sure of the exact reason. What she was missing? There were so many things she missed from her old life, so many things she had always taken granted for.

With a sigh, Clarice was almost about to turn around and went downstairs to find Bee and Maria, but then Ron’s house door opened across the road, and his mother walked out. Clarice couldn’t pick up her face in the gloomy dark, but the way the woman scurried away from her house made her frown.

There was an agitation in the woman’s movements, her cool, sometimes odd demeanor had turned urgent, hugging her arms over her middle. There was even a slight sag in her shoulders as she hurried away toward the main gate, her head crestfallen.

Clarice wondered if they fought again, but she hadn’t heard any shouts this time. Ron never talked about those shouts, always pretending nothing happened when they happened, but it wasn’t the first time the town had heard his father’s shouts in the night a week ago.

She also expected Jessie went toward Deanna, but it wasn’t the case. Why did she go toward the gate? With a little shake of the head at herself, Clarice returned to the table and started redoing her math, trying to decide who could be convinced to stay out of this and who could be convinced to sign in their favor turning from the abstention. She could at least talk to Heath and his team once more.

Just as she thought about that, out of the corner of her eye she picked up their other protector of the town. The Korean man was circling at the other side of the main road from the window, mostly focused on Ron’s house. Clarice understood something was happening. She just did.

Jessie hadn’t gone to Deanna, but she had gone to Carl’s house. To call the cops.

Springing up to her feet, she stormed off down the staircase, calling Beatrice. “Bee!” she stopped in the corridor, jumping over the last step before she rushed to the living room. “Bee, did you hear anything from Ron’s house?” she asked to be certain, but Beatrice lifting her head from the book she was reading on the couch as Maria knitted her scarf, gave her a frown.

“No. What happened?”

“Jessie left the house ten minutes ago, looking odd, scurrying over to the main gate—” Clarice replied quickly. “Then Carl’s father’s partner came. He’s outside now, checking their house.”

Beatrice ran to the window and pulled the drapes to look outside. “He’s coming toward us.” She turned before she dashed out of the room. “Let’s ask him.”

Sharing a glance with Maria, Clarice followed her older sister. They stepped out on the porch, and feeling the cold air, Clarice wrapped her arms around herself over her cardigan.

“Hey, Glenn—” Beatrice called out in a loud whisper, waving her hand at the man as he walked over the curb at their side of the road. The lack of title surprised Clarice as she didn’t know Bee was on the first name basis with the man. “Is everything okay?”

Turning his attention toward them, the Korean man walked toward their porch, eyeing their line up with knitted eyebrows. “What y’all are doing up there?” he questioned.

Beatrice flushed, dipping her head. “Clarice saw Jessie leaving her house, then you came up. We wondered…” She trailed off, understanding they sounded like noisy neighbors that wanted to gossip. Well, they wondered, not for gossip, but something was off. Clarice didn’t know to express it, but the feeling was there.

To her surprise, the constable gave them a grave half nod. “Did you hear anything tonight?” he questioned, walking closer.

They all shook their heads. “No.” Beatrice was the one who answered again. “What happened?”

“Jessie and her husband fought—” he explained, but Clarice had already gathered that part. “She wants to split up, so she came to us.”

“Are you here to make sure he would behave?” Clarice asked.

Constable Rhee gave her another brief nod. “Aye. Things turned messy while they fought. He hit her.”

Beatrice’s hand went over to her mouth as her eyes widened. Clarice wished she could’ve said she didn’t see this coming, but it would be a lie. She was sad, but she was also relieved it wasn’t Beatrice who had left the house like that tonight.

As if the constable thought of the same too, he shot a look at her older sister. “You should go inside, Beatrice—” he instructed. “Jessie said he’s been drinking. I’ll be around to keep him in check.”

It was also him who had them escorted back to their house after they’d stayed over them for the night, so Clarice wasn’t surprised to hear it. She guessed it was the part of his job, keeping peace in the town, but she became surprised when Beatrice suddenly piped beside her.

“Why don’t you come in?” she asked, her cheeks flushing again. “We’ve got an open view across the street. You can watch over him from inside. It’s cold tonight.”

This time Maria and she shared a longer glance, and Clarice read it all from the older woman’s gaze too. She wanted to sigh deeply because she was seeing where this was going. Beatrice had developed a crush on the man.

And Clarice really wanted to sigh deeply, because she also knew the man wouldn’t have returned her affections as she knew from Carl that he’d lost his wife before they had come into the town. When they’d first arrived, Clarice used to see him wander in the town like a ghost, looking faraway, head in thoughts, not talking to anyone. Those expressions had waned off of his face, and from Carl, she also learned that he was a very good man, capable and a good man, someone she wished Beatrice could have beside her because Clarice knew how lonely Bee was feeling.

But why she always had to fall for unavailable men?

“We’ve got a cake!” she chirped, giving the man a small grin. “I baked it today.”

Maria had baked it today, Bee had only helped, but they didn’t correct her like whenever Bee wanted to make friends.

Surprising Clarice further, the Korean man accepted her offer, stepping up on the porch. She darted another sideways look at Maria, but both of them stayed silent. Inside the house, Beatrice quickly went to the kitchen as they moved to the living room.

When she came back with the tea and cake, Constable Rhee accepted them with a little friendly gesture in front of the window. There was no flirting in his manners, but Clarice suddenly felt hopeful, nevertheless. Perhaps she should talk to Carl about it.

Turning aside, placing the mug on the table beside the window, the man directed a look at her. “Carl said you’ve been making a petition in favor of us, thank ya.”

Clarice accepted it with a nod before he questioned further. “How’s it going?”

Before she could even open her mouth, Beatrice jumped in and started summarizing what Clarice had recounted to her early in the evening. “It’s not much, but we’re sure we can shift more to our side—” she finished, giving the man a bright, reassuring smile.

Clarice almost raised her eyebrow at the ‘we’ but didn’t rain on her parade. Though the Korean man didn’t say anything in return, just swiftly shifted aside, placing the plate in his hand beside the mug on the table, and got closer to the window.

Peeking over his shoulder, walking closer, Clarice saw Carl’s father outside. “Is it Sheriff Grimes?”

“Yeah, it is—” his partner answered, his eyes still scanning outside. “He said he was going to talk to Deanna about what happened.”

They all nodded again, falling in silence until Beatrice tried to diffuse it babbling out. Bee hated silence, hating the tense moments so they listened to her chatter absently as the constable checked outside beside the window, silently eating his cake and sipping his tea.

Though Beatrice had to stop talking when she understood there was no interest. So, she silenced, too, dutifully sitting beside Maria, and picking up her scarf she had been knitting too from the little basket beside the couch. The thing looked horrendous, but Beatrice still kept doing it. She could never imagine her Bee wearing such an ugly thing, but it kept her mind occupied so Clarice didn’t mind.

Ten or so minutes later, Sheriff Grimes left and started going back to his house. Constable Rhee turned to them a few minutes after then. The house on the other side was still silent. “I should go—” he mumbled. “Check out our house.”

They all nodded again silently, but before he made his way to the door, Carl’s father appeared on the main road again, marching purposely this time directly toward Anderson's residence.

The Korean’s face darkened, watching the scene. “Is he going to talk to Pete?” Beatrice asked in a whisper.

“Someone has to—” he replied simply.

“Perhaps it’d be the best to leave it to the morning—” Bee suggested weakly.

Clarice agreed, but the Korean man shook his head in objection. “Mrs. Anderson isn’t coming back. The sooner he learns it, the better. We don’t need any more scenes tonight.”

Clarice wondered if he was going to join up with his partner, but he just waited. She didn’t know what held him back, but it looked to Clarice he didn’t want to get in the way. Sometimes it felt like there was a face off long coming between Ron’s father and Carl’s father, so perhaps tonight was the day.

They vaguely picked up two shadows moving agitatedly over the window across them, then started hearing the shouts spreading out from the house. The constable sprinted off the door, they followed. Over the doorway, opening the door, he shot her a glance.

“Clarice! Run up to us and ask for Officer Shepherd. Now.”

They ushered out on the porch, the constable running off toward the house across, Clarice scrambled toward Carl’s house, shouts coming clearer and clearer. People nearby started emerging out of their houses too, hearing the clamor.

When Clarice heard a deafening glass shattering in her ears, she spun around to see both men falling through the broken window, flying in the air, their hands caught on each other’s throat, before they landed on the dug garden.

Clarice turned back and started running faster.

# # #

Amanda still breathed pure fire even after she pranced the master bedroom like a caged animal for minutes. She couldn’t settle down herself, couldn’t find the calmness, a pang of betrayal, hurt, and anger bursting in her chest, squeezing her heart.

How could he do this to her? They had been trying to pick up their blowup relationship! She had never asked, never even thought of asking, always assumed that bastard had started it, and Rick had just played along!

How she could be this stupid?

Of course, it’d been him. He’d learned about Judith, and then overreacted, and threatened Pete Anderson, putting on himself an X for the obsessive sonofabitch. The furious part of her wanted to kick his ass for being this impulsive, making things worse for them. She let out a growl again in anger, almost kicking the vanity table like he’d done when she told him she wanted a break. It never ended with him. Never. He accused her of keeping things away from him, not being open with him all the while he’d been doing the same thing!

Her intensified emotions lashed at her insides, and before she could stop herself, she yanked the door and left the master bedroom. After their short confrontation, she had just wanted to be alone, leaving him in the corridor, storming off away, but now she wanted a fight.

She didn’t even care they had company inside. They shouldn’t have been doing this now, they would’ve sat down and talked about the Pete Anderson situation, and what they would do about it, but now she just wanted to find him and tear him a new one. She ran down over the staircase, dashing to the corridor, but he was nowhere to be found.

Amanda found Carol alone in the kitchen. “Where’s he?” she snapped, her voice almost a growl at the back of her throat.

“He left. Possibly making a patrol. Cool down.”

Amanda made another growl. “You knew it, didn’t you?” she croaked out. “You knew it from the start. He told you.”

“Yeah, he told me, Amanda.”

The words even felt more of a slap, the hidden meaning of it, but before she could question it further, Clarice’s frantic voice boomed inside the house, shouting her name.

“OFFICER SHEPHERD!”

Amanda ran out of the kitchen, understanding the night was still not over. Not at all. “What happened?” she asked the frantic girl over the doorway, holding tightly the door’s handle.

“It’s Ron’s father and Sheriff Grimes!” the girl cried out, her hazel-honey green eyes widened with frayed nerves and fright. “They just fell through the window! They’re fighting!”

# # #

“I’m telling your son right now!” the sonofabitch yelled, lunging toward the living room’s exit, and Rick lost whatever little sense left to him in the world.

He grabbed the bastard from his back and threw him against the wall, his hand finding the man’s throat, his resolves completely shattering. He had sworn the bastard had ever put his children’s name on his mouth, Rick was going to kill him. He didn’t even know anymore for what exactly he’d come, everything was rapidly swiveling in a mist, but he still didn't stop. He’d wanted to end this. He was so tired of it. Tired of his threats, tired of fearing him for Carl and Judith. His fingers pressed further on his trachea.

 “Dad!” His son screamed, running toward his father, and Rick froze, as if he was coming out of depths, then lessened pressure on the man.

The next pain exploded in his groin. Rick doubled down, fisting his hands as the man went for another kick. His knee rammed at his side this time as hands clutched his shirt’s collar. Anderson threw him against the wall back, spinning them around, and punched Rick above his eyebrow.

It fucking hurt, and with a howling, Rick clawed at the man’s face, pushing him away, his fingers ripping off his shirt collar, too. Releasing him, Anderson stumbled back a few steps as Rick advanced. He went for a punch himself, but ducking, Anderson dodged it.

They wrestled on staggering feet, both trying to get a clutch of the other, sometimes taking a hit, sometimes delivering it. He could feel splits over his face, blood trailing across his skin and sipping through his lips with sweat, mixing over his tongue, copper and salty. Rick spat blood and saliva through swollen bloody lips, the exertion of the fight making every limb and muscle in his body aching and protesting.

The teenage boy stayed out of the fight as Rick’s eyes darted quick sideways glances at the boy too, trying to assess if a blow would come from him, joining up to the fight, but the boy stayed motionless, just watching it, hovering over the doorway.

Anderson’s hand caught him at his throat again as Rick checked over the boy, using the advantage, pushing him over the window behind her back. Rick’s hand flew over the man’s neck too in retaliation before they stumbled together, Anderson pushing him, Rick pulling him, before losing their balance, they started falling—just over the window.

Rick closed his eyes as they went through the glass, shattered pieces cutting into him through his clothes before they tumbled down in the dug lawn.

They toppled over the earth for two full rolls before Rick managed to line up beside his side from behind, clutching his head in a wrestling hold with his arms. Anderson was coughing with blood, his face turning redder purple as his choke started cutting off his oxygen supply.

“Rick!” Glenn came toward them, running from the other side of the main road. “Rick—stop!”

The Korean grappled him from his neck too, trying to break him free from Anderson, but Rick tied his legs over the man to hold stronger.

“Rick!!” Glenn shouted, hands still trying to pry him off.

Rick didn’t let go. He was tired of it. He just wanted to be done now.

“RICK!” Deanna Monroe’s voice suddenly bellowed in the night over their grunts and Glenn’s shouts, and lifting his head, Rick saw the old woman standing beside the gathered townspeople with her sons, a step ahead of everyone else. “Let him go. Now.”

Freeing Anderson, pulling back, Rick drew upon his knees on the main road. Still sputtering blood and saliva, Anderson crawled away from him. Denise rushed toward him as Rick turned to Deanna. “He started this—” he spat through his split and swollen lips with difficulty.

It wasn’t him! Rick didn’t want this! It wasn’t him. This was you, not me! YOU did this to us! Not me! Not me!

He shook his head, trying to dissolve the ghosts in his mind. Still lying flat on his stomach, Anderson jerked away from Denise’s touch as she tried to pull him up. “He’s as dangerous as Carter says—” he spat back. “You see it now!”

“I don’t fucking beat my wife, you asshole!”

There was a stir of murmur over the crowd, people looking at each other. Anderson sneered at him again.

“That’s enough, both of you! Stop it!” Rick made a move forward. “Damn it, Rick! I said stop!”

“Or what?” Rick cried out, turning aside toward her, drawing his gun. He was sick of it! Sick of him, sick of her rules. He hadn’t started this, but he was going to end it! “Are you gonna kick me out?”

Deanna stilled as soon as her gaze fell on the gun in his hand, her face becoming stoic. “Put that gun down.”

Rick shook his head again, bringing the hand with his gun up over his forehead. “You still don’t get it. None of you do! We know what needs to be done and we do it. You just sit down, plan, and hope. Hope everything would be okay. But it won’t be. You have to accept that. Things won’t get better because we want them to—” he repeated, stressing the words one last time. “Starting right now, we live in the real world! We control who lives here.” He shot a look at the asshole. “We decide who deserves to live here.”

“That looks very clear to us right now—” Someone from the crowd stated curtly and Rick turned toward it and saw that it was the man who had started the petition.

Rick pointed at himself with the tip of the gun, looking at the man. “Me-me? You mean me?” He let out a bitter laugh, his eyes growing incredulous. “What, Carter? Are you gonna send me away because I’m holding a gun? Or because you’re signing papers?”

Rick shook his head, still looking at the man, but there was no incredulity in his gaze, but only a curt sternness. “Do you even know who you are talking to?”

“Rick, that’s enough—” Deanna cut in, her expression looking forlorn, taking a step closer to him.

 Rick turned to her. “Enough?” Yeah, it was enough. “Your way is gonna destroy this place—” Rick told her openly. No more beating the bush, no more playing along, no more common grounds. Alexandria was where they started living again. They weren’t going to lose it. He wasn’t going to let that happen!

“It's gonna get people killed. It's already gotten people killed and I'm not gonna stand by and let it happen! I'm not gonna watch you—” The rest of his words suddenly died off as pain erupted at the base of his neck, exploding stars before his eyes.

The last thing Rick saw as he fell on the ground on his back before darkness claimed him was Amanda’s furious face, looking down at him, green eyes as sharp as dark emerald, holding her gun in her hand.

# # #

For a brief while, all was in silence, every eye on the town, looking at her, at her gun, as Amanda stood above the fallen men, one whimpering, the other unconsciousness. She tipped her head at Glenn. “Glenn, put both of them in the basement. Separately.” She warned even though she wouldn’t need to and ran her eyes over the gathered crowd. “Everyone, clear out. The show is over.”

They still looked at her. Amanda raised her voice to a shouted order. “NOW!”

After that, the crowd started shuffled away quickly, hurrying away, and Amanda turned to Deanna. “Can we talk?”

Deanna’s gaze was still on her gun, too. Amanda didn’t even flinch anymore. She’d arrived just after Rick drew his gun and started his crazed monologue. She had listened to it silently from his back, listening to his words, her anger and weariness mixing with his words, knowing once more that Rick was right even when he was wrong.

He started this.

Amanda didn’t fucking care anymore who had started this shit between them, who threatened the other first, but she knew one thing. She was going to stop it. She had had enough.

As if feeling the same, Deanna gave her a curt nod. “Yes, it appears we do need to talk, officer.” Leaving her sons, the old woman then spun on her heels and stalked back to her house. Dutifully, Amanda followed.

Inside, Deanna led her to upstairs toward her study. When she settled down in front of the desk in her usual seat, Deanna asked quickly without further ado. “How did you find the guns?”

Amanda replied in the same way directly. “We stole them from the armory.”

Deanna let out a loaded sigh, shaking her head. “When?”

“At the dinner party.”

The older woman’s crow’s feet around her eyes deepened. “Is it why Rick wanted the party, right?” she mused out, realization dawning on her. “He wanted a diversion.”

Amanda jerked her head into a nod, not denying it. “Yes. We broke into it while everyone was distracted with the party.”

Deanna nailed her with a look. “Before you broke into my garage, too, you mean.”

Amanda didn’t correct her this time. It was best to leave the others out of this as much as possible. She really didn’t want to do this in this way, but as Rick had kindly taken the cat out of the bag, there was no other option now. “Who else do have guns now?”

“Only me and Rick—” Amanda replied, her voice adopting a reassuring tone trying to settle down Deanna. “We only took a few guns and packages of ammo, so you wouldn’t notice them missing. We hid them in a cabin outside and the house.”

She left their cache that they had taken from the men in the woods and hidden in the cabin before they had come to the town out of her debrief. Deanna still didn’t need to know about that. The old woman shook her head, looking old and tired now. “You both were having guns during the whole time you spoke to me for permits, weren’t you? What’s this, Amanda, steal first, apologize later? Have you been watching Godfather?”

Amanda ignored the curt dry remarks, even though it was exactly what they had tried last night. “We didn’t want to do it this way, Deanna—” she said. “Rick was the only one who carried one for a long time. Until Carter started the petition. We only did it to protect ourselves. We didn’t mean any harm.”

That made the old woman let out a crude, bitter sound in disbelief. “So are you telling me you would leave peacefully with your guns if we decide to send you off?” she asked.

This time Amanda stayed silent. Deanna shook her head. “I want to trust you, Amanda. You and Rick. But you’re making it damn hard for me.”

“I know—” Amanda accepted in a low voice, but it was the truth too. “I wish things would be different, but—” She paused, remembering what Rick had repeated. “He was right, Deanna. I told you. Rick tends to be right even when he is wrong. Things won’t get better just because we want them to.”

Deanna’s expression stiffened, anger crumpling her features. “That’s not an excuse!”

“No. It’s a fact!” she fired back. “This is the life we have to fight for now. So we took the guns to protect ourselves? Yes, we did. And we will not apologize for that!”

“Then what are you trying to do here, Officer?” Deanna barked at her.

“I’m trying to make you understand!” Her voice got heated, rising, and Amanda had to stop herself for a few seconds to cool down before she began again. “The truth is that the only reason why we’re having this conservation is that we wanted it this way, Deanna,” she told the older woman openly. “If we wanted to take this community, we would’ve done it!”

That made the woman sobered more because she knew Amanda was right. The only, only reason why they were having this conversation was that they weren’t people like that. Because they were still trying to stay good.

But Deanna was studying Amanda carefully now, face expressionless. “History is a graveyard of people who had thought the brute force was enough for one to rule—” she intoned placidly, settling herself back in her seat. “And I thought of you enough smart to know that, Amanda.”

For the first time she came to the room from the spectacle, Amanda hesitated. It was also true, the first tyrant in history had ended up getting stabbed twenty times in his back by his closest allies and friends. Strengthen was a necessity to rule, but it didn’t make everything peaceful.

“What’s going on between Rick and Pete Anderson?” Deanna asked finally, tilting her head vaguely before she stated with a clear, certain voice, “This isn’t just about Jessie Anderson.”

Amanda stayed silent. Deanna shook her head. “Trust is a two-way street, Amanda. If you want me to trust you, you need to trust me too.”

The words couldn’t have been any clearer, so Amanda just bit the bullet. Rick possibly wasn’t going to like this, but she didn’t care. She was going to end this. One way or another.

“Pete Anderson knows something. Something very important for Rick—” she explained as clearly as possible, holding back Judith. She still couldn’t do that. “Rick reacted to it. Threatened to kill him if he speaks. Then he threatened Rick back, trying to hold his family off from my classes and Rick’s plans. They've been butting heads since then.”

“Was it the reason why Rick wanted him to go to the sewers?”

She nodded. “He thought if the surgeon saw the real life with his own eyes, he would have gotten off his neck,” Amanda admitted. “Then the sewers happened…”

“You mean he threw a walker at him—” Deanna corrected her.

“It wasn’t intentional—” Amanda stressed out. “I told you before. He didn’t mean it.”

“So what do you suggest, Officer?” Deanna asked, giving her a look. “I’ve got a wife-beater in my hand and a man who stole at my back, a man that I possibly will receive a petition the next morning that I send him right away.”

Her face soured. “You can’t do it—” Amanda encountered, giving the woman a look back. “You can’t let go of Rick over someone like Pete Anderson.”

“He is a surgeon—” Deanna pointed out.

“A surgeon who does nothing but drinks and beats his wife when he feels it.”

“Jessie wants to leave him. We split them up, and then carry on.”

“Do you honestly expect Pete Anderson goes with that without any resistance?” Amanda shot back.

“We handle him.”

“Yeah, with people like Rick,” she pointed out. “This is exactly the reason why you wanted someone like him, Deanna. The likes of Pete Anderson would only tear this community apart whereas Rick would die for it. Kill for it.” Deanna gave her another look. “Besides, we all come in a package. There is no us without Rick.”

It was a test to assess her reaction, Amanda knew, but she didn’t want to play anymore. The question wasn’t about what to do with Rick, but what to do with Pete Anderson and with Rick. The answer seemed easy, keeping them away from each other, but there was another truth she’d learned when they had lost the prison as a blade fell on Hershel Greene’s neck.

They all couldn’t live together.

Rick and Pete Anderson couldn’t live together. All her common sense was telling her it was going to end in tears if she didn’t finish it right now, right this moment, but Amanda still didn’t want to do it. She just couldn’t.

If there were only Jessie, she perhaps would’ve convinced Deanna to send the man away and be done with it. But it wasn’t only Jessie, there was Ron too. It didn’t sound right forcing a father away from his child this way, even though Pete Anderson was an asshole. He was still Ron’s father.

No, there had to be another way. There had to be.

Deanna took her silence at the wrong her, giving her a stony look. “I’m not going to let him kill Pete, Amanda—” the woman spoke firmly. “It’s out of the question.”

“I know—” Amanda encountered, lifting her head. We decide who deserves to live here, Rick repeated in her mind, and despite everything, Amanda still felt Rick was right, even when he was wrong, too, they had to decide, and the truth was that Pete Anderson didn’t deserve Alexandria.

There was also a part of her that felt like she’d escalated the situation further going to Jessie again, asking her help, but she couldn’t regret that. All in honestly, Amanda was partly glad that it had happened too, finally breaking things between the wife and husband. Jessie had possibly been waiting for a push like that, a literal slap that made her face with the reality, making her come to a decision. Pete Anderson wasn’t going to get better. Even his wife had seen it.

Still, they couldn’t do it, couldn’t send a man to a death sentence like an exile in front of his son. Rick possibly wouldn’t agree, but sending people out was as best as killing them. Perhaps even Jessie wouldn’t want it. She was still the father of her son.

“Pete Anderson doesn’t deserve this place,” Amanda continued, her decision finalizing. “but we can’t send him away, not when his child lives here. We set up Anderson into another house like we talked and keep Rick and him away from each other. I’ll keep Rick in line. You make Anderson stay away from him—” she bargained. “From Rick, from Jessie. If he still doesn’t play by, we send him out.”

“And what if Rick doesn’t play by?”

“He will. I personally guarantee you.”

Deanna fixed at her another stony look before giving Amanda a curt nod in agreement.

She almost made a move to stand up and go to find Rick and talk to him, but thinking over the last couple of days, she didn’t. There was still one thing she needed to tell the woman. Something Amanda still wanted her to learn from them before the others found out.

“We’ve got another problem—” Amanda told her then, leaning back. “One of the guns we took—” she elaborated quickly, continuing. “It’s missing—” she confessed. “W-we sort of lost it.”

Deanna sighed heavily, shaking her head again before she stressed out the words; “Lost it?”

“Yeah, it’s a long story, but yeah, it’s gone. And we don’t know who took it. When Rick drew his gun today, I waited to act because of it,” she admitted it. Listening to Rick’s motivation speech wasn’t the only reason why Amanda hadn’t reacted at the moment she gathered Rick had lost it. No. She’d wanted to see. “I wondered if anyone from the town would step up after Rick drew his gun,” she explained out loud.

And no one had. Amanda wasn’t sure what that meant, but she didn’t like it. “Perhaps it wasn’t with them or perhaps they got afraid and didn’t want to get involved. Or—”

“Or perhaps they still wanted to keep it secret—” Deanna completed her line of thought.

“Exactly.”

  # # #

As he sat on the hard cemented floor in the bleak cold basement, his head was pounding against his skull. The back of his head was still throbbing too with the force of Amanda’s blow, but Rick didn’t whine. The basement they’d put him in was bare as the other unfinished house, only lit by moonlight that crept interiors through the small window in the heights.

He was sitting on an old bedroll at the corner, his knees bent up, only a blanket beside him. He was stripped naked from his weapons. His duty belt was gone, they’d taken even his pocketknife. Joan must have stitched up his face with butterfly plasters because when he woke up, he sensed them over the cuts on his face and over his red, chaffed knuckles.

God. What a mess he had created.

He barely remembered now the words that had left his mouth in his crazed delirium, going berserk, even drawing his gun. He’d fucked it up again. If Deanna didn’t let him stay after his episode, that meant. Well, that meant Rick finally had to do what he always tried to evade. What Amanda had always tried to keep him away.

Because they still weren’t going to lose this place. If Rick was going to need to take over, he had to do it now without guns. Deanna had already found out about the guns. He hoped at least Amanda didn’t give away the other guns in the cabin and the ammo packages they had gleaned. It was going to have to be enough until they broke into the armory.

His other main concern was Pete Anderson too. Rick had no other idea how to keep the asshole silent anymore other than silencing him for good. Just like he had tried. If the sonofabitch talked, and Carl learned… As his thoughts turned bleaker, Rick tried to shuffle them away, but it didn’t change his reality. He was still stuck here.

The door at the top of the staircase opened, and Amanda’s faint figure suddenly appeared in the moonlight. They gave each other a look in the gloom, Rick lifting his head toward her, Amanda looking at him down. When she started descending the steps, Rick saw her expression didn’t have that furious tempest anymore before he fell unconscious after she smacked him good, but had stiff, contained anger.

She stopped in front of his bedroll, still staring at him. Rick held her gaze, too. “I’m still so angry at you, Rick, I don’t even know where to begin—” she finally said.

Rick didn’t see any point to deny it, knowing she was right. “I lost it, Amanda,” he muttered. “I just—he told me he was going to tell Carl. He was leaving the house. I had to stop him.”

He almost thought she was going to kick him before she hurled the blanket at him with her foot. “Well done, darling! You did a fantastic job of it!”

“What would you expect me to do, huh?” he asked, throwing the blanket off from his lap. “Let him go?”

“No!” Amanda snapped back. “I was expecting you not to go to him in the first place! Why did even you go?” she cried out.

This time, Rick stayed silent. The truth was that he’d gotten so mad again when he learned Amanda had learned Rick had made the first threat, he acted again out of fear, giving in to his anger. His feet had brought him to Anderson’s house. First, he had demanded that he wanted to take Ron to bring Jessie and told the man his wife wanted to split up.

Everything went upside down then, turning worse. Anderson wanted to go out, screaming he was going to see Carl right now, and Rick snapped.

“I’ve just come from Deanna. She just forsook the idea of sending you off!” she went on, kneeling in front of him on the ground, anger still firing her voice. “What were you thinking, Rick? Seriously? Going over there and starting a fight with him? Throwing a tantrum in the middle of the street? Drawing your gun?” Her heated green eyes widened more as she repeated through clenched lips. “Drawing your fucking gun?

“The safety was on—”

“Jesus Christ!” she cried out. “That’s your defense? The safety was on?!”

“I fucked up, ‘kay?” Rick cried back, shaking his hands. “I fucked up.”

Her admission finally settled her down as she sat on the ground, her eyes still holding his. “I told Deanna what’s happening between you two.”

“What?” Rick shouted. “Amanda—”

“That’s enough, Rick!” she shouted back, leaning down in him. “You fucked up and I’m covering your ass now but you’re gonna do exactly how I say! I don’t wanna hear any objections from you or I SWEAR to God—” She took a hold of his torn shirt from the collar before stopping her fierce words.

Letting him off, she drew back, exhaling a deep breath. “I didn’t tell her anything about Judith—” she went on, explaining in a cooler voice. “Just told her Anderson found out something very important for you and you’ve been butting heads over that for months.”

“She doesn’t know about Judy?”

She gave him a terse look. “No. She doesn’t know it.”

Rick nodded. “Okay.” A pause, and he added. “Thanks.”

“We’re setting up Anderson into another house like we talked before—” she declared. “And you will keep away from him.”

“I was trying to keep away from him and look how it’s worked out.” He gestured to the basement with the tip of his head. “I told you before. Pete Anderson is my problem, not yours.”

“Well, he’s my problem now. Not yours. You will do as I say, Rick!”

“No! Amanda, no! We have to finish this!”

“I am—” she told him; stern words punctuated with a stern glare. “I’m finishing it, Rick.”

Rick shook his head. “I already saw this story.” He had many times. With Shane, with Governor, with Terminus, in the woods. “You saw it too, Amanda, you know it,” he reminded her, his voice heating, leaning over to her closer. “He’s gonna try something and hurt people.”

“We have to try, ‘kay?” Amanda pressed further. “We have to. If Anderson acts out again, tries to hurt anyone, then we send him out. That way it wouldn’t be on us.”

“We’re taking an unnecessary risk—” Rick replied tersely.

“Rick, this’s the only way—” she refused. “We’ll still need to fight to keep you here. Deanna is soothed for now, but the townspeople aren’t. You have to play along.”

“What if she decides to throw me in front of the lions?” Rick challenged this time. “What are you going to do?”

Her eyes narrowed, pissed. “Do you honestly believe I let her do it?” she snapped. “I told her we come in a package. If there’s no Rick, there’s no us too.”

He made a low non-committal voice but still asked, despite the fierceness of her words, “The other guns. Have you talked about those too?”

Sharp green eyes nailed him with another look. “No. Of course not. She doesn’t know about them.”

Rick jerked his head into a nod. “About the guns we took. What did she say?” he inquired.

“What do you think?” she shot back, her voice turning derisive this time.

“You’re staying here tonight—” she went on with that curt sardonic voice. “I’ll get you out tomorrow morning, then we’ll talk to Deanna.” Rick bobbed his head again loosely, going on with her orders as demurely as she demanded. “I also spoke to her about the missing gun.” His head whipped at her. “We need to find it.”

“Do you have a clue?”

Amanda shook her head, sighing and standing up. “Not in the slightest. I’ll send food and pillows with Glenn—” she added before she made her way toward the staircase, leaving him alone in the dark and cold.

Notes:

So, this chapter was really one of my main reasons to write On The Edge, and even though I had many ideas how to make Rick go berserk, I decided at the end to stick to the canon as much as possible, only with a little bit twist of the missing gun. I also wanted Amanda to have an ulterior motive to let Rick run loose with it, lol, listening to his 'motivation speech', then smacking him good when she understans no one is going to interfere. I think I wouldn't exaggerate when I say I planned the draft of this chapter even before I started writing On The Edge, both for Amanda and Deanna and Amanda and Rick interactions. It was great to finally write them down.

AND, Beatrice and Glenn! I just couldn't help myself. Beatrice needs someone, and Glenn! This time he's gonna date a way out of his league, hehe, even more than Maggie. The end of the world really has worked for this guy. Hehe. I also wanted to write a romance story for Daryl and an OC like Beatrice, a rich socialiate, but alas, couldn't have done it to Joan here. So it had to be Glenn. One day I'm gonna write it, though! Hell, sometimes I even think of giving Daryl a girl from British aristocracy, lol, a real 'Lady'. Haha. It just makes me laugh crazy.

Though, you know what is coming up in the next chapter :( So--a little spoiler, but the next chapter is gonna be called 'A Death in The Family'...

Chapter 43: 'A death in the family'

Summary:

When Pete and Rick have their final face-off, the tragedy strikes again...

Notes:

Is it kinda funny that I named a chapter 'A death in the family' after Batman's iconic comic book issue just as the new Batman movie's trailer showed up? The trailer looks awesome! I'm sooo hyped for it!
Anyways, this is a sad chapter, obviously. See you at the bottom!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

As it had become the norm in the last days, Deanna was having a headache from hell.

“You can’t mean it!” Carter cried out as he agitatedly paced in her office. Aiden was seated in the armchair at the other side of her study table, watching the man with a forlorn expression. “H-he drew a gun on us.”

Deanna was getting fed up with this, tired of being questioned by the man each time, but it was hardly unexpected. Her eyes cut over to her son for a split second before steeling herself, Deanna stated to the tall bald man. “We’ve talked about the guns before.”

“Y-you knew about this?” the words sputtered out as his agitated pacing froze, looking at her with widened eyes. “You knew he had a gun?”

That wasn’t entirely true and wasn’t exactly what she’d said, but Deanna didn’t correct the misinterpretation, instead continued, “He’s our Sheriff, Carter. We’ve given him a job, a job to protect us. How can we expect him to do it without giving him means to do it?” she asked back, repeating Aiden’s earlier statement.

His son slanted a look at her after hearing them, a look that Carter, in his agitated state missed, but Deanna didn’t.

It was a risk Deanna was taking now, but she couldn’t see any other way. She had to settle down the town. She’d thought about it the whole night yesterday, wasn’t even sleeping a wink, lying on her back next to Reg. He’d asked her what she was thinking, feeling, and Deanna couldn’t answer right away.

She had made a pact with Amanda because in deep down what the female officer had said was true. She couldn’t give up Rick and their group over Pete Anderson, although the man was their only surgeon. Moreover, even though she had commented ruling with brute force wouldn’t have worked, the woman had still a point, a very, very good one when she had said the only reason why they had that conversation was that they wanted it to happen that way.

Deanna had thought about her first interview with both law officers last night, even left the bed for a while to go to her office and listening to the recordings again. She watched Amanda telling her they were people trying to live by a code, trying not to hurt people unless they tried to hurt them, and Rick warning her they shouldn’t have opened their gates to them in that way, and if they wanted to take over the town, Aiden and his team couldn’t have stopped them. Even from the start, Rick had told her the same. Deanna was still angry, furious that he had conspired behind her back, but it didn’t mean she didn’t understand.

“I know how it looks, Carter,” Deanna started again, trying to get the man off of her neck. It wasn’t going to be easy. She knew she was opening a can of worms too, but despite her many reservations and drawbacks, this was the best way. It had to be. Trust was a two-way street. She’d told it to the younger woman last night, and now, she should heed her own words.

For a while, Deanna even regretted her decision not to give in earlier when they asked her consent for carrying firearms so she wouldn’t have had to deal with this right now. “But you know what happened. Rick went over there because Jessie filed an official complaint. Pete grew out of control when he heard Jessie wanted a split. It was in his rights to apprehend Pete—”

“Apprehend him?” Carter cried out again. “You called what he did that?”

“They both carried away—” Deanna admitted. “I’ll talk with Rick after Officer Shepherd gets him out of the basement. For the time being, he’s suspended. Officer Shepherd has taken over his duties.”

“No—” Carter still insisted, pulling a folder from his back under his jacket and handed it over to her. Without even a look, Deanna knew what it was. “We signed a petition. We’ve got the majority.” That made Aiden’s attention turned to the tall man too, his eyes narrowed.

Even though she tried to hide it, Deanna was equally surprised. As far as she heard, there were a lot of people who were going to abstain, not wanting to take sides. What had happened yesterday must have made them reconsider their decision, directing them toward Carter.

The man gave her a look as she took the dossier. “There’re a lot of people that don’t feel comfortable how things have started to be handled in this town, Deanna.”

Deanna raised her eyebrow at the statement, but without another word, Carter turned and left the study.

There was a brief silence in the room as they started ahead, Aiden’s eyes on the door before they turned to her again. “He’s gonna use this on you, Mother—” Her firstborn stated the obvious as she started shuffling through the pages before she threw the dossier away over her desk.

“Find Amanda—” Deanna ordered firmly. “She takes that idiot out of the basement and brings him to me. We need to talk. Now.”

# # #

The pale December sun caught his vision after the gloom of the basement. Rick blinked a few times, feeling the chill of the morning with it too before he zipped his jacket over his white t-shirt. He ran his hand over his face, his callous fingers rubbing across his stubble and the plasters. Amanda led him out of the house’s driveway, but unlike what he’d expected when she came to get him out of the basement cell, she directed him toward the right instead of the left where the main gate was.

He hesitated for a split second as Amanda shot him a sideways look. “We’re not going back home—” she explained. “Deanna waits for us.”

“Now?” Rick asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. He’d spent his night in a cold, moist dunk. He wanted to return to the house, take a warm shower. See Carl and Judith. Last night had been like hell, away from them, away from the bed he’d been sharing with Amanda in the last days, and he also wasn’t particularly looking forward to facing Deanna’s wrath.

He knew it was coming, Amanda might’ve braced it yesterday, calming the woman down, but it was still coming.

“Aiden just came. Said it’s urgent—” Amanda clipped looking ahead as she continued walking toward Monroe's townhouse.

She still looked pissed, so without further protest, Rick followed. God, it was too early for this, dawn had newly broken, and a nail was making its way through his temples, splitting his head in two. Right that moment, Rick understood he didn’t want to do anything but crawl under the bed, tucking himself behind Amanda, holding her close in his arms. Briefly, he wondered where she’d slept last night, that she’d stayed with the master bedroom with Judith or left for her room in the other house. The thought bothered him greatly but afraid of another fight, Rick didn’t ask.

When they arrived, Aiden was already in the study, taking his usual seat across her desk, where Deanna sat behind. Rick halted over the doorway behind Amanda, looking at the old woman who was staring him back.

Her usual poker face was gone, Deanna’s eyes were holding a stern glint that showed her displeasure with the current situation very clearly. Rick noticed the dirk circles under her eyes too, realizing the woman hadn’t slept like him.

She tilted her head at them, motioning the seat in front of Aiden. Amanda took it as Rick stayed beside the round table next to it, Deanna’s gaze following him.

“I hope you’ve considered what you did, Rick—” Deanna started and jerked her head toward her desk this time, gesturing a folder on it. “Because you’ve put us into a big pile of shit right now.”

Rick didn’t ask what the folder was because he already knew. “They’ve got the majority—” Deanna explained a second later. “I need to call for the Assembly now and we need to vote for it.” Her displeasure reeked from the words, and Rick exchanged a glance with Amanda.

“You’re not liking it—” Amanda stated.

“I’m not liking this kind of decision making—” Deanna corrected tersely. “When our numbers were less, it worked, but we’ve grown too much to let the conflicts be resolved like this. We can decide what color of fencing to have in the town by a poll, but not who lives here or who don’t—” Her stern eyes cut over to him after the words.

Rick still stayed silent, waiting for her to finish. They needed to decide who deserved to live here or who did not, but in this instance, Rick also agreed with the former politician. “You need a council—” Rick told her.

“We need a damn Penal Code—” Deanna shot back. “We’ve got rules, but we need to start getting more concrete with the legislations. I don’t even know how to…try Pete—” Her eyes found them again. “Or you both—” she continued, “Because we haven’t defined any crime for your actions.”

“He’s abusing his wife—” Rick stated placidly. “What more do you need to hear? I told him his wife wanted a split up, and he attacked me.”

“Amanda told a different story—” Deanna pointed out. “That you have been butting heads for months, threatening each other.”

“That’s not about that—” he objected, shaking his head. Rick had gone to the man yesterday furiously, wanting a confrontation, yes, but what had happened yesterday in the core was still about the Andersons. “But what happened between me and Pete Anderson wasn’t about this.”

“So you would’ve still beat the crap out of him, strangled him even if he hadn't threatened you?” Deanna challenged, her expression growing even sterner. “You’re not making up for your case, Rick.”

Amanda had been shooting him daggers, trying to commence him into silence with her eyes, and for a split second, Rick thought about what they had talked about last night in the basement but didn’t hold back the words. He didn’t want lies anymore.

“I’m not trying to make up for anything. I did what I had to do. To protect my family. I would never apologize for it. And to be honest,” he continued, staring at Deanna openly with an equally stern look, “I won’t guarantee I won’t do it again if he tries something.”

Amanda had eyes like saucers now as Deanna’s expression became stony. “I told you before, Rick—” she clipped firmly. “We don’t kill people here.”

“The day will come when you have to—” Rick only said, almost indifferently. He didn’t try to be sonofabitch, but that was another reality. “A day when you have to make a choice. When it comes, Deanna, remember what I’m telling you now. Pete Anderson is a disaster waiting to happen.”

Deanna shook her head, but this time Amanda cut in, trying to keep her voice cool, schooling her expression and widened eyes to a calm state. “We shouldn’t start another fight.”

Her head whipped at Amanda. “Another fight? Are you kidding me?” she snapped. “He just told me he would kill Anderson just after you personally vouched for him, just after I covered his ass to Carter for the guns you stole!”

Rick’s head turned to her, too, looking at the woman questionably.

“You drew your gun in the public, waving it at people! What else would you expect me to do!” she bit off. “I told him we talked about it.”

“Talked about it?” Rick stated back in a low voice, but it came out like a question.

“Yeah, talked about it—” Deanna confirmed. “We talked about it, and I told you to wait. I kept the last part to myself.”

Rick shared a look with Amanda as Aiden assisted. “Carter has been at Mother’s neck since the military left—” he explained. “He wanted to be her aide, but Mother didn’t want it.”

Amanda looked confused now, directing her eyes between them. “Why?”

“I knew Carter from before. He came with another military convoy after we arrived. He used to be on the team of one of my rivals. I don’t like his ambitions. He’s as slippery as a snake and much less brave. I couldn’t understand it first, but I got it now.”

“He doesn’t care if you beat Pete to a pulp or take him down to sewers. He’s trying to show the townspeople that I don’t have control over the people.” The woman’s eyes found him. “Unfortunately, what you just did is what he wanted.” She paused for a second before she went on. “If people learn how you took the guns without my consent, he won’t only come for you. He will come for me, too.”

The words were open and honest, and Rick knew how hard it must be for the woman to accept this. He didn’t even know if he should feel relief that Deanna wasn’t trying to cover his back, but was trying to cover her ass, playing the game, but he knew one thing. He couldn’t let Carter get over her.

That man and him. No. Rick would clash and bicker with Deanna, but they always managed to find a common ground. It was a small moment of realization as he figured out that he trusted the old politician more than he thought, and that he felt…responsible for what had happened, too.

“I’m sorry, Deanna—” Rick told her. Even though he couldn’t apologize, he would at least do it. “I wish it didn’t come to this, but I couldn’t take the chance.”

“I know. You’d even warned me.” She paused for a second. “But we can’t go on like this, Rick. If we want this to work, we need to start trusting each other. I told Amanda yesterday trust is a two-way street, and I meant it.”

He bobbed his head briefly, neither declining nor accepting. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but I’m not going to let it destroy this community. I need you to understand that. Trust me on that.”

Rick shook his head. “I don’t doubt your intention, Deanna,” he said slowly. Most of the time, his issues with Deanna had never been about that. Deanna was optimistic, but not stupid. Rick always knew it.

“But my capability?” she asked back, reading his mind too.

Rick stayed silent. Deanna gave him a hard look, unflinching, not like the placid kind woman with a smile. For a moment, Rick almost believed in her, too.

“All of us still want the same thing—” Amanda cut in again between them. “A place where the children can live without fear, without hunger, without the dead. We should stop fighting with each other.” She turned to him. “Rick—?” she prompted.

Rick gave a jerk of his head in a nod. “Yeah.”

“I call the Assembly tonight and explain what happened—” Deanna started speaking again after that. “I’ll confirm we’ve talked about the guns but decided to hold it from the public until a more convenient time, just like how we discussed. That would settle down the matter, at least for now. Then we’ll hear from them.”

Amanda followed her, nodding quickly as if she was afraid Rick would object. “Aiden and I will take Anderson out this afternoon and put him into another house.” Her eyes cut over to the other man. “We prepare accommodation for him, and take him there. Jessie and Ron will stay with us until we do it. If he makes a fuss, we talk to him again.”

Rick’s jaw clenched, not liking the idea, but stayed silent again.

Deanna’s eyes turned to him. “Now—” she continued, “About the gun that you lost—” There was a derisive dryness in her voice now as she shot him a look. “What’re you going to do about it?” she questioned. “We can’t let a gun run loose in the town.”

“I’ve been thinking on it—” Amanda replied quickly again before Rick could. “Perhaps no one came forth yesterday because they were afraid to confess. If we can convince them there wouldn’t be any comeuppance, perhaps they’d feel more inclined to come clean.”

“Meaning?” Deanna urged her.

“In the assembly we announce it. Say it’s a cache Rick had made for emergencies and tell them there won’t be any retribution if they just give it back, and we’ll forget about it.”

Rick almost made a scoff out of his nose. “Do you think whoever took it would give it away this way?”

“Well, it’s better than being caught, right?” she defended, tossing him a heated look. “Whoever took it must know that we’re gonna turn the town upside down to find it. If it were me, I would just want to wash my hands clean.”

She might have a point, but Rick was still skeptical. If someone just stumbled on it in the greenhouse, looking for tools or something else, they would’ve brought it to Deanna first, not hiding it. Rick pointed that too, but Amanda shook her head again.

“Yeah, perhaps, but it doesn’t change my point—” she insisted. “They still would fear for retribution. If finding the gun is our priority, we shouldn’t focus on who took it.”

Rick was skeptical about that too. He would like to learn who took it. “Did anyone request guns before, bringing the second amendment or something else?” he questioned. There was a part of him that still found that the townspeople played along with Deanna’s firearm restriction that easily.

Washington D.C and its neighborhood had been always more libertine regarding the second amendment, it was still hard to believe, though Deanna shook her head. “No.”

Rick swallowed a sigh but accepted. “Okay, we do it—” he said, but also added. “But we still need to look for it. If what you say is true, Amanda, and it might be, whoever took it might just want to get rid of it too. Throw it away.” The idea that there might be a gun in the town that way gave him a shudder. “We can’t let that happen. There’re kids in the town that we still haven’t managed to give gun safety lessons.”

Deanna nodded. “I’m gonna make a full sweep—” Rick continued, but this time the old woman opposed, shaking her head.

“No, not you. You’re going back to the house—” she told him as Rick’s expression stiffened. “And you’re not leaving it until tonight.” Rick’s jaw clenched further, understanding he was…grounded. “We don’t need you now running around in the town, hunting missing guns—” There was that bitter dryness again in her tone, old and tired before she turned to her son. “Aiden, round up a team and look for it. If someone got rid of it, I want it found.”

Aiden nodded but didn’t stand up. Deanna waved off her hand at them. “Now, off y’all—” she fended them off. “I need to think.”

“You think too much, Mom—” Aiden remarked with a small smirking smile, standing up. Rick thought it was the first time he’d ever heard the younger man called her mother Mom.

A frustrated, yet affectionate softness entered Deanna’s posture. “Someone still has to—” she mumbled as they all left her alone.

# # #

Deanna hadn’t exaggerated when she advised Rick to stay away from the townspeople, Amanda realized after they left Monroe's residence. The glances they gave them as Amanda and Rick walked back to their house were covert or at least trying to be, prying at them for a few seconds, gazes heavy and wary. A few of them even changed the side of the street they were on upon seeing them not wanting to get into direct contact. Rick ignored them all, Amanda didn’t know what to make of it.

Last night, she’d hoped things would get better in the morning, but the meeting had made it clear that it wouldn’t be that easy. In hindsight, after what they had heard from Deanna, the thing with Carter and his petition made much more sense. They had thought first Anderson was using the man for his agenda, but Amanda knew now it was the opposite. Carter Blake had been using him, not even because of Rick, but to undermine Deanna’s authority.

For a few seconds, Amanda had been even surprised when she realized that Deanna was going to cover their ass for the guns they stole because the alternative would have portrayed her as incompetent. Amanda knew she shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone had their own agenda, it always had been like that, for their own reasons. Even Deanna. But there was still a part of her that made her wary, whispering her Dawn, but she tried to silence it. Perhaps they were all playing the game. Like always.

She let out a resigned sigh, and hearing it, Rick turned to her. “Are you okay?”

The question, the quiet but earnest way he asked it brought back the anger she felt yesterday when she learned it was him who had started this, threatening Pete Anderson after learning Judith. That Pandora’s box was still there, half-open, and inside there were so many worms, Amanda wasn’t sure if they were ready to face again.  She was tired, moreover, she was still angry, and Rick—Rick just didn’t stop.

The thought made her even angrier. Instead of this, they could’ve had an easy morning, Amanda wearing her chemise like he had wanted her to. Then perhaps she even wouldn’t have needed to stay alone in her room last night while Rick stayed in a damn basement! And perhaps then Rick wouldn’t certainly have admitted to Deanna he would kill someone if he deemed it necessary just after Amanda had promised Deanna that she was going to keep him in line!

“No, Rick—” she hissed out, stepping on the porch. “I am not okay!” She yanked the door open and walked into the hall before she stormed off over the steps.

Rick caught her in the middle of the staircase. “Amanda, wait! I-I am doing what you’ve asked!” His hand swept in the air, showing the house, showing that he’d come back, listening to Deanna’s order.

Too little, too late. “Really?” she shot back. “Because I can’t remember myself telling you to say Deanna that you can’t guarantee you wouldn’t try to kill Anderson again!”

“I didn’t want to lie.”

She let out a bitter, low scoff. “After all this time you finally decided to be honest for that, huh?”

Rick caught her arm before she started storming away again, making her stumble on the steps. His hands quickly stabilized her, catching her at the waist. “Amanda, please, can we talk?”

She shook her head. “No! We can’t talk, okay? You’ve been doing the very same thing that you always keep accusing me. Holding back from me, keeping secrets. I thought we’ve stopped doing this!”

“Amanda—” Rick started again, getting closer, but she cut him off. She couldn’t do this. She was so tired. Still so angry.

“It doesn’t end…” she murmured, shaking her head. “It doesn’t end with you. Y-you just don’t stop.” Without another word, she turned on her heels and disappeared upstairs. She almost ran to the master bedroom, and quickly closed the door behind her, resting her back against it, her eyes becoming pricky and moist.

Amanda closed them. She wanted to cry, even though she wasn’t sure for what. Even though she was angry at him beyond belief, last night had been so awful, so lonely without him as Amanda stayed in the attic—

Just the thought appeared in her mind, Amanda realized what she’d done.

Her eyes opening, she ran her look around the room, the room she’d locked herself in. The master bedroom. His room. Where Amanda still had her clothes in the closet and her toothbrush in the bathroom.

# # #

After Amanda vanished upstairs, leaving him at the staircase, Rick went to the living room. Inside, Carol was sitting down Judith and Mika on a blanket. Carol’s looks were measuring and wary, as Rick settled beside them. While the kids played, Rick briefly summarized what they had talked about with Deanna.

Carol let out a small snort. “We should’ve known that this wasn’t only about us—” she muttered, and Rick agreed. Some things were just so much clearer in retrospect, but that was another discussion.

Rick looked at the older woman. “Amanda—” he asked, finally giving in. He wanted to learn. He needed to learn. She was still upstairs, even angry, when she was mad at him, instead of running out of the house, she locked herself in the master bedroom. In their bedroom. Rick wanted it to happen.

“Did she stay here last night?”

Rick wondered if his tone was hopeful because Carol gave him a soft, gentle look, almost pitying him. His throat clenched, understanding what the answer was going to be. “No—” Carol said. “She returned to her own house.”

Picking up a toy from the ground, Rick jerked his head into a curt nod. “I understand.”

But, did he?

The conflict was with him again. He wanted to explain himself, explain why he’d kept it secret from her, how he didn’t want to lose her forever, but she’d just said she didn’t want to talk. She’d told him he…didn’t stop. Rick didn’t know for sure what the words meant, but he still didn’t want to push her. He could never forgive himself if he acted like an overbearing asshole boyfriend again.

So Rick stayed in the living room as Amanda stayed upstairs, until he finally heard sounds from the up floor, before the door outside closed with a loud crack. Amanda had left.

# # #

“So—” Amanda asked, gazing at the house where they’d put down Rick and Anderson last night, her eyes narrowed. “Where are we putting him in?” she asked. “

Aiden sighed silently. “I don’t know. I’ve been checking the houses, but I’m not sure what the others would feel like if we put him in their houses. Everyone knows now what Pete did now—” He turned to her before asking. “Would you want to share a house with a wife beater?”

Amanda shook her head, understanding the point. It was good to hear that the surgeon had become a persona non grata as much as Rick now. They were afraid of Rick, the scene he’d created yesterday, but there was one truth that nothing would change.

Jessie’s bruised chin and split lips. The notion twisted her stomach, but Amanda knew they needed the woman in the assembly tonight, stay there and play the victim, the very thing Amanda had tried to stop. Sometimes, it really felt like she really could do nothing.

She’d wanted to help Jessie, wanted to give her a way out, and look how it had turned out. Her eyes cut over toward the left for a second, toward the house she had left. “Can we open up a new house?” Glenn asked beside her, cutting through her musings.

“I can’t see any other way—” Aiden admitted. “It’s a waste of our resources, giving a man a full house, but I guess, in this stage of things it’s the best option. The house Carter lives in has got an empty room, but I’m not sure if I want them together.”

“No—” Amanda refused too. Father Gabriel had already moved in with him after Amanda had kicked the man out, three of them in the same house were just asking for more trouble. “We should keep them away. They’ve caused enough drama as it is.”

“Yeah.”

Amanda let out a sigh. “C’mon. Let’s get over it.” She motioned at both men before turning on her heel and started walking toward the house.

# # #

The basement was cold, dark, and moist, but Pete didn’t feel anything as the female officer talked, his eyes fixated on her. "You’re moving out of the house. Jessie wants a split.”

The same words again. Jessie wants a split. She doesn’t want you anymore.

They’d ruined his family! Disturbed her, talked nonsense in her head. He’d snapped, but it wasn’t like that. He needed to talk to Jessie. He could explain. She knew it. She must know how much he loved her.

“I-I want to talk to her—” he said, standing up. They couldn’t take them away from him.

She shook her head. Aiden and the other Korean man stayed silent beside her. “No. She doesn’t want to talk. You won’t approach her again.”

She doesn’t want you anymore, the words echoed in him. “No!”

No! Jessie wanted him. She loved him! “No. I—"

“I won’t repeat it, Mr. Anderson!” she snapped, cutting him off.

Pete recognized the lack of his true title as he glared at the woman. He wasn’t only Mr. Anderson. He was Dr. Anderson. The surgeon of this town. They couldn’t do this to him. “You will stay ten yards away from her from now on,” but the woman continued mercilessly. “We’ll prepare another house for you. Jessie and Ron will stay with us until we do it, and you can stay at yours.”

“They’re my family. You can’t take them away from me!”

“We’re not doing anything. You did it all yourself. And if you don’t play by the rules now, Deanna will send you away. Consider yourself warned, Mr. Anderson.”

# # #

The rest of the day went uneventfully. Amanda came by a couple of times, staying for a few minutes, updating them. Jessie and Ron were at the other house with Abraham, and they decided it was the best for the moment. Glenn patrolled in front of Anderson’s house.

“You should clear the house of alcohol—” Rick warned over the giddy song from the colorful small-sized keyboard toy Judith played, sitting on the blanket between them. “I much prefer him sober.”

“Yeah, me too—” Amanda nodded, slanting down a look at Judith as the baby girl hit another key. Another giddy piping baby song came out from the toy. “Perhaps we should talk to Deanna about an alcohol restriction.”

“The gun?” Rick asked then. “Any luck?”

She shook her head. “No. But Aiden keeps looking.”  She gave Judith’s top of the head a quick kiss after that, then left. Rick still didn’t try to stop her.

In the afternoon, Clarice dropped by with Carl. She explained she’d gathered fifteen signatures in their favor. She’d also stated that a lot of people were going to abstain, but their talk in the morning with Deanna made Rick aware that it wasn’t the case anymore.

Rick didn’t correct the girl as both teenagers look edgy and anxious. “Everything is gonna be okay. Don’t worry—” Rick told them, almost automatically. He didn’t know if they bought it.

Toward the evening, everyone left the house for the assembly. Rick stayed back with Carl. His son wanted to come, too, of course, but Rick refused. Carl only winded down after Rick stated that someone had to stay with Judith as they couldn’t take her to the meeting.

When Rick walked out of the house, the town had already fallen in an eerie silence. Like always, it disturbed him, his insides tingling. Before he turned toward the right, toward the community center, Rick hesitated on the main road, that urge in him prompting him further. Perhaps he just stayed too much inside since last night, cooped up.

Rick turned to the right, walked toward the main gate. He wanted to go up and look over the town. His eyes narrowed as he approached closer, no figure in front of the gate. His eyes darted up to check the platform beside it, still no figure. When he arrived, he realized what he’d seen far afar was true, there were no guards, the gate was unattained.

The tingling feeling he’d felt turned to an alarm set off when he saw the sliding gate was open a few inches. Turning around himself, he quickly checked his surroundings. There was no sound, nothing to see yet, but the feeling was still with him. With a frustrated angry hiss, Rick started running over the first houses among the lines with the gate.

It never ended. It never did.

It was then Rick heard it, after he finished the first line, a low frightened scream coming from the right side, further inside the town. Rick ran faster, trying to locate it.

His steps halted a few seconds when he did. Over the porch of the elderly Johnson’s a walker was stumbling over the steps, trying to work his way up to the porch as the old couple looked at it stupefied over the doorway.

“Get inside!” Rick yelled at them. “Get inside now!”

His screamed order took them out of their frozen stupor, and they quickly swept back inside and closed the door. Rick looked around the lawn, trying to find something to put down the dead. He still hadn’t asked back his duty belt, playing along. He didn’t have his damn pocketknife with him, and it angered him more.

Even more than the unguarded, they had left the gate open!

The fools, they were all fools, even himself.

His eyes caught a loose cobblestone in their driveway, half dugout when they’d prepped the gardens, and Rick sprinted at it. It wasn’t something big, but for the time being, it should do it.

He slithered toward the walker from behind. Warning off his approach, the dead turned aside and started lurching toward him. In front of the porch, Rick could see still the Johnson over the door’s window panel, watching him with frightened eyes.

Rick would ask for a knife inside the kitchen but didn’t bother anymore. He kicked the walker at the back of the knee, dropping him down before leaning forward, he started hitting the rotting head with the stone in his hand.

The dark smelly blood sputtered out at his face as Rick rained the blows, but he didn’t stop, until he smashed the head fully, rotting brain pieces, worms, dusty bones, and dark blood making a smear over Johnson’s porch.

The old couple emerged out from inside when Rick slowly stood up, taking his cloth from the back of his jeans, and started wiping his bloody hands. They were looking at him with an astonished look, eyes like saucers.

Rick wanted to sigh again, but asked instead, still wiping his hands clean, “Are you okay?”

They tried to give a loopy nod. “Have you seen any other walker?” Rick asked further.

Mr. Johnson shook his head, and Rick saw behind Mrs. Johnson the little girl they’d adopted, hanging on her grandmother’s leg, hiding her face. “We-we were just leaving for Denise—” the old woman explained. “She said she could take care of the kids before we go to the community center.”

Rick tried to calm himself after seeing the small girl, still clutching at Mrs. Johnson’s leg. She looked terrified, and it raged his insides more even when he tried to keep his face placidly in order not to scare her further.

“You go ahead—” he tipped his head toward the community center’s direction. “I’m gonna secure the gate and check the town. Send Aiden and Amanda here too, please.”

Aiden and Amanda came running a few minutes later to the gate just as Rick closed the gate. “Rick!” she cried as Rick dropped the chain and padlock, then she stopped, her eyes widening, fixated on his face, his blood-covered face. “What happened?”

 “Someone left the gate open—”

“What?” Amanda cried out again, as Rick turned to Aiden.

“Yeah, I found it like that,” Rick said curtly, jerking his head at the secured sliding gate. “Unattained and ajar a few inches. Who was at the gate duty tonight?”

“Steve Malkin—” Aiden answered quickly. “He kept a watch when Amanda asked, so I added him to the shifts.”

“But he was in the community center—” Amanda cut in. “I saw him.”

“Bring him here—” Rick ordered with a brief nod. “Let’s hear what happened.” His gaze shifted to Amanda. “Amanda, where’s my duty belt?”

“Rick—”

“Amanda, where is it?” Rick only repeated. He couldn’t do this anymore. He was trying, but, but if he didn’t feel tonight something was off, if he didn’t see the walker and if it attacked the Johnson… Over his eyes, the girl came again, the way she tried to hide behind Mrs. Johnson’s leg. The girl, the kind old woman. If Rick had been a few seconds late, they all would have been dead. Rick wasn’t going to let it happen. He wasn’t! He didn’t want any more death, either!

As if Amanda had understood it from his expression, or the look he was giving to her, she spoke too. “In my room, in the attic—” she said in a small, but clear voice. “I left it there last night.”

“Do you still have your gun?” Rick questioned further.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“All right, we go take it. Aiden, you bring Malkin here and then round up a team. We need a full sweep. Check in with Olivia and go to the armory, too.”

Aiden started moving away, and so Rick, turning toward the house to retrieve the guns, but Amanda didn’t. Rick looked at her again. “The assembly has commenced—” she reminded. “They’re waiting for us.”

Rick walked closer to her. “I just killed a walker inside the grounds. Do you really want us to go and play twenty questions now?” He paused, realizing what she’d also said. Aside from a few exceptions, everyone must be in the community center.

“They will stay in the community center,” Rick ordered, turning to Aiden again. “We close it up and search the grounds. It’s better if we know where everyone is until we secure the town.”

Taking Amanda’s elbow after then, Rick led them away without waiting for the younger man’s reply. In front of their houses, he dropped Amanda’s arm. “I go talk with Carl. He’s inside with Judith. You go take the guns and come here.”

This time without a protest, she nodded.

Five minutes later, Rick was cinching his holster around his hips again. He tucked in the gun he’d taken from Aaron for the last, swearing after the sweep was finished, he was going to go to the armory and take his revolver back. Amanda’s upper right leg was wrapped with her holster too, a sight that relieved Rick a bit more.

When they returned to the gate, and Steve Malkin was there with Aiden and Glenn.

“Did you leave your duty at the gate?” Rick clipped the question in a hard voice, fixating his eyes on the man as soon as they came near.

“I-I—” the man sputtered out, twisting in his feet, his already pale face turning to a ghastly grey. “I-I thought…” He swallowed hard. “Everyone is in the community center—” he explained. “I closed the gate and went there.”

Rick let out a hiss. Each time he thought the town wouldn’t have gotten worse, they managed to surprise him. The man left the gate unguarded just because he was curious! But it wasn’t even the worst part. “I found the gate open!” He closed on in the man. “Did you leave it like that?”

Steve Malkin shook his head agitatedly, looking sick and shocked. “No. I closed it. I swear I did.”

Rick sniffed lowly, smelling the guy. There wasn’t a heavy smell on the man, but he still picked up a distant leftover of alcohol. “Have you had any drink tonight?”

Another shake of the head came. “Just a beer with the supper. I’m brewing it myself.”

Rick made a noise and shot a look at Aiden. “The other watch posts?”

Glenn answered in his place. “They’re okay. I checked them.”

“All right—” Rick said after then, turning his attention away from Malkin completely. “I want four teams. We check the grinds like a usual patrol.” With their guns, they also had taken the radios from the armory, so they would call in if assistance would be required. Rick wasn’t sure what was happening, but if Steve Malkin had closed the door, but it got opened, well, that meant—

Well, what that meant, someone had opened it. To invite the dead in. First, they had a missing gun, now they might have a saboteur. With the sudden thought, his eyes cut over to Glenn. “Glenn, Anderson—” he asked, something tightening his voice. “Is he still in the house?”

Glenn nodded quickly, understanding him. “Yeah. He never left it.”

Rick bobbed his head too, but not like it. Though there wasn’t anything he could do at the moment, not before he became sure the town was secure again. Carl had taken his sword, staying in the master bedroom with Judith. “Alright, let’s move out—” he ordered just before Deanna’s voice came behind them.

“Rick, what’s happening?” the old woman questioned, her eyes darting around between them, trying to assess the situation. “Olivia said Aiden asked for guns.”

“We have a security breach—” Rick told her. “Someone opened the gate. It was unguarded. I killed a walker just before it got Johnsons.” He paused before added. “You need to go back to the community center. Everyone stay there until we clear the town.”

“Are you saying someone did this on purpose?”

“I’m stating the facts—” Rick snapped back, not wanting to discuss it in front of everyone at the moment. “The gate was open, and a walker came in. We don’t know how long it was unattended, so there might be more too. We need to check.” He tilted his head at the teams. “Move out.”

Alexandria was a damn big place, and occasions like these reminded Rick about that fact, too. At the end of the hour, they finished the grounds, finding no other walker. Rick took a slight breath of relief, knowing that they dodged away from another disaster at the last minute. He wanted to return the house and check in with Judith and Carl and call it a night, but they still needed to go to the community center.

Amanda gave him a sideways look on their way. “Perhaps you should wash your face first—” she said lowly but not saying he looked like shit this time, even though Rick realized it. Rick knew he looked like shit, yeah, he could feel the dried, caked blood across his face, over his stubble and sutures, the dots of splash of the blood were at the end of his sight, but he still didn’t care. Perhaps the townspeople had to see what happened when they let their guard down.

Without a word, Rick continued walking. Amanda didn’t try another time then, either. In the lounge room, the tense air hit him as soon as they entered. As Rick walked inside, eyes followed him warily. Like in the morning, Rick ignored them, advancing on Deanna. Amanda was at his side, looking taciturn now. The covert glances were directed at their holsters too, but no one made a sound.

Aiden and the other teams were still armed too, but Rick didn’t see anyone giving them looks. He stopped in front of Deanna. “We’re clear.”

“More walkers?” the old woman questioned.

Rick shook his head. “No.” He paused before asking. “Did you ask about the missing gun?”

Deanna gave him a look this time. “No. I don’t think tonight is the right time. We sh—”

“When do you think is it’s gonna be the right time!” Rick cut her off, his voice rising. H-he just couldn’t do it anymore. He was willing to give it a try, but not like this, dammit, not like this. “When one of the dead kills one of us?” he cried out. “How many more of you are gonna have to die before you finally accept it, Deanna?”

“Perhaps it was you—” Carter suddenly spoke from the crowd, walking toward them. “Perhaps you opened the gate after Steve left.”

Rick nailed a look at the man as Amanda’s jaw clenched beside him. Of course, he’d been waiting for this, wary looks and conspiracy theories, but before Rick opened his mouth, Mr. Johnson interjected. “No. He came to help. He saved us!”

“And how convenient isn’t it?” Carter encountered. “Just at the night we talk about his future in this community—” His tone turned to a sneer, tossing a look at his bloodied face. “Suddenly he’s become our savior.”

“I’m not your savior—” Rick clipped. “I’m just trying to help you! Show you how you can survive.” He gestured with his hand, still covered with blood. Why they couldn’t see it. “How we all can survive!”

“Yeah?” he asked back, tilting his head around. “By threatening us? Drawing guns on us?” Coming closer to Rick, the man stood in front of him. “You’re not our savior, Rick Grimes, nor you’re our tyrant.”

“Carter, that’s enough—” Deanna tried to come between them as Rick took a step in him.

“Yeah, it’s enough!” he shouted back. “We’ve got enough of him. And we’ve got enough of you trying to cover his ass, Deanna!”

Right that moment, suddenly Pete Anderson appeared in the doorway, stumbling in his feet, drunk beyond belief. Closest to the door, Aiden was already walking to the man.

“H-he’s like cancer—” the surgeon cried out the slurring words, still wobbling toward Rick. Aiden held him at his shoulders. “He’s spreading in us—” Anderson screamed, trying to push him out of Aiden’s arms. “He’s ruining us!”

“That’s enough—” Aiden shouted, pushing him back.

Rick almost made a move, too, but exchanging a glance with Amanda, he stayed put. Perhaps it was the moment Amanda had been trying to tell him, the moment he dug himself a hole, and then they were going to bury him in it.

Anderson came at him again. “HE’S RUINING EVERYTHING!” His fisted hand raised, and something flashed in the dimly lit room, something as sharp as razor.

Rick lunched forward at the same time Amanda screamed at the man, unfastening her holster— “DROP IT NOW!”

Another flash, a scream, and Aiden dropped to the ground, holding his neck over the slit across his throat, blood sputtering out between his fingers. It splashed at Rick’s face.

Deanna was still screaming, crawling over to her son. Rick took a step back, his eyes still on the scene in front of him. Blood, everywhere was covered blood now. It reminded him of the times both Carl and Amanda got shot as Rick ran them to help in his arms, racing against time.

For Deanna, there wasn’t even such a chance. “A-Aiden—” Deanna sobbed beside her son, clutching her son’s free hand.

Rick looked at the mother and son as Aiden grabbed his mother’s hand, too, tears of pain welling in his eyes before they started leaking. Amanda was still, holding her gun in the air, cast off to stone. Anderson was on his knees a few feet away from them, his head bowed as if he couldn’t watch what he’d caused.

Pete Anderson is a disaster waiting to happen, his words echoed in the blankness of his mind, and Rick wished he hadn’t been right.

“M-mo—” Aiden’s hand tightened over Deanna’s hand, his knuckles turning whiter as he tried to make the word out of his ripped throat. “M-m-mom—"

Another moment flashed over Rick’s eyes:

“You think too much, Mom—”

“Someone still has to—”

A long sorrowful wail ripped off out of Deanna, and at that moment Deanna was no longer a leader, an old politician who played the game but only a mother whose son was taking his last breaths, a mother whose son was brutally killed before her eyes. The rest of their family joined them at the other side of the dying man as the painful deep rumbles Aiden forced out slowly died off, and the room fell in silence, Deanna falling over her son.

There was only one sound in the silent room now, Anderson’s low rough sobs.

Rick turned and looked at the pitiful sobbing man. No one moved. Even Carter’s widened eyes were watching the scene stupefied and terrified. Amanda’s gun had lowered at her side as her tears left stains over her cheeks.

Rick unfastened his holster and drew his gun. “Deanna?” he asked, turning slightly over to the woman, and waited for her command, his arm still at his side.

When Deanna lifted her head, her face was covered with blood as worse as his so much that Rick thought for a second she was crying blood instead of tears as she looked at him.

Her wrinkled and blood-covered hand tightened over her son’s before she whispered to him, “Do it.”

Rick turned over to the sobbing man, raised his arm, and did it.

Notes:

So yeah... Story gods asked for blood, and Aiden got the short end of the stick this time :( I swear this was one of the hardest things I had to, I grew very fond of Aiden while writing, and I WASN'T planning on killing him, I swear, I wanted Amanda and he and Nicholas having their poker nights and drinks, lol, but, it wouldn't be TWD then, right? Hehe.
Killing Reg wouldn't have had the same effect, really, because he's almost non-existent in the story, and I think Deanna seeing her son killed by this also would have shaken her worse. In the show, she didn't see how Aiden died.

I got rudely flamed two weeks ago by a reviewer at the other site for killing both Michonne and Maggie in the first book, lol, and in the next chapter, I kill another character again! Sorry. Well, at least Aiden isn't one of the main characters...Though it hurt me worse killing him than killing both Michonne and Maggie, I admit. Heh.

I'm taking a break until Christmas or the new year to focus on On The Horizon as we closed this arc too. So I'm gonna see you later. In the meantime, don't forget/hesitate to tell me what you think or say hi if you're still reading and enjoying it. The readership has dropped a bit in the last weeks, which has made me a bit unmotivated again, BUT I swear I won't throw a tantrum this time, lol!

Hope to see you before this bloody year ends! Ciaociao

Chapter 44: 'You could've lost me!'

Summary:

With Deanna's withdrawal from the town following her son's death, Amanda and Rick try to deal with the aftermath of both Aiden and Pete Anderson's death, and all the other troubles and challenges Alexandria faces.

Notes:

Hello! It's me again. I decided to upload another chapter because my writing break isn't going well. Basically, during the last month, I could only finish a single chapter, barely. It sucks, but it also means there is no point in having a break right now as it doesn't look like I still won't be able to sit down and concentrate on writing for a while. So, here it is; another chapter. Enjoy :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Since she knew herself, Clarice had always hated funerals.

Before the outbreak, her father had managed to drag her to the memorial services a few times, but Clarice hated them equally, the gathered people talking in hushed voices, drinking and eating, and chatting as if there wasn’t a dead person in the room. They said it was to pay their respects, doing their last duty, but it’d never felt like it to Clarice. It must have been what happened to her mother after she was born, people coming to a funeral house, chatting and eating as if she hadn’t sacrificed herself giving birth to her.

Still, before noon, Clarice got prepared, wearing the darkest shirt and pants she could find in her closet, and left for the little secluded graveyard they had appointed for their losses. There were only a half of a dozen graves, half of them still empty, too. The people they had lost outside the walls, they had never returned, so Deanna just commissioned a ceremony, making them hold the service in the lounge room, stabbing a wooden cross in the earth beneath the wall, underneath empty.

Today there was going to be no memorial in the lounge room, and Clarice preferred it because she didn’t want to see that place again after last night. A shudder passed over her, remembering it. It had happened so fast, so sudden, Clarice couldn’t even understand it first. She only saw Aiden falling, blood spraying out of his neck, Deanna’s heart wrenching wails in her ears until everything halted in silence, then she heard only one lone gunshot that blazed in the silent room, then another scream, and Ron’s father dropped dead beside Carl’s father.

The scream Clarice had heard had come from Ron before he sprinted toward his father, crying and screaming. Until Jessie and Tobin caught him and dragged him away out of the room all the while Ron fought with them. Clarice didn’t know what to feel but only stared at the dead bodies on the floor.

Even in the morning, even while going to Aiden’s funeral, that sight hadn’t registered to her fully. She couldn’t believe Aiden was dead, Ron’s father was dead, but she knew it’d happened. Leaving her room, Clarice went down downstairs and saw Beatrice and Maria were waiting for her beside the door. They were both clad in black dresses, Beatrice had even found a small black hat from somewhere. Her older sister’s eyes were rimmed red, and she was still crying, dapping her eyes with the black tulle handkerchief in her hand.

 As they left the house, her eyes darting across the main road, Clarice looked at the house on the other side. There was the shadow of a lone figure behind the drapes at the window, and she knew it was Ron as she knew he was watching them go to the funeral. She wondered what was going to be to his father as she didn’t see anyone preparing a service for him. She doubted anyone would want to, not after what he had done, but Clarice still felt…sad for her once friend.

Behind the short fences that had marked the graveyard, Clarice saw the newly dug barrow that Deanna had knelt at the foot of it, but there wasn’t anything else. Her curiosity piquing further, she scanned the area, but couldn’t spot any other grave for the late surgeon. Over the people attending the service, Clarice picked up Carl at the side of the Monroe family, standing with his family. His father’s face was as forlorn as last night, even though it was clean from blood. Clarice had been shocked to see him like that, too, shocked to hear that there had been the dead people inside their walls. Officer Shepherd looked the same too, her pale face bare of emotions, but her eyes as red as Beatrice’s, shadowing dark circles under.

The rest of their people was a few feet away behind them with the other townspeople. With the tensed silence and covert glances, Clarice felt she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe what had happened. The sorrow in the air hung heavier in the daylight than in the dark. Nicholas was standing beside Spence, his stump bandaged and secured with the sling over his other shoulder, looking as if he’d lost his other hand last night, too. Clarice felt even worse, her eyes tearing as she slowly moved toward Carl at the same time Father Gabriel stepped ahead of the crowd. Her eyes narrowed as she stopped beside Carl, taking his hand. She wanted to feel the warmness of his skin.

“We’ve gathered today to say our farewell to a good man and to pay our respects—” the priest started, but Clarice zoned him out, bowing her head, still holding Carl’s hand.

No one from the Monroe family made a speech. It was Nicholas instead who made the honor as his closest friend and teammate. It was a heartfelt eulogy that made a lot of people cry harder, Beatrice sniffing in her handkerchief across her. Clarice’s tears fell too as she neared toward Carl. His hand over hers tightened in support, and she did the same too.

To her surprise, the next person stepping out to make another speech was Officer Shepherd. She stood at the foot of the grave, facing the crowd. “I didn’t know Aiden Monroe for a long time, and I wish I had—” she started with a low voice, her eyes cutting over to Deanna who was still sitting down on her knees beside the barrow. “But even in the short time we had, I knew he was a good man. A man who was still trying to do his best, a man who was trying to do the right thing and he paid with his life for that.”

“But that was the man he was and I know by a second chance he would’ve still done the same,” she continued after a brief pause. “So I don’t mourn that. I mourn, I mourn now I’ll never be able to know him better, spend more time together, work more together, all those times we haven’t spent—” She stopped for a second, her voice catching. “That drink we’ve never shared, the poker game we couldn’t play. They’re gone now, and we’re here—” Her eyes cut over to the grave, bleak desperation entering into her as she shook her head, casting her head down. “And Aiden, wherever you are, please know we tried our best, too.”

Her tone reeked of grief and mourning and even though Clarice didn’t know the reason, she felt the older woman was blaming herself over Aiden’s death. Carl’s father’s eyes turned over to her, giving her a look, but he didn’t move. When she stepped back, a stir passed among them, then Father read the Grace and they followed it quickly, but no one else stepped ahead to make another speech.

Clarice tossed Nicholas a look and saw him leaving after Father Gabriel finished the praying, not saying any word to anyone. They slowly started shuffling away, giving back lingering covert looks over the grave, where the Monroe clan still stood sigil.

Clarice started walking away with Carl and his family. When they were a few feet away from them, she leaned down to him. “Dr. Anderson—” she asked in a whisper. “Where is he?”

There was no other grave. Clarice had made sure to check it closely during the service. Carl shook his head. “Dad hid him beside the greenhouse last night—” he explained, slowing their pace putting more distance between them and his family before he added. “They’re not going to bury him.”

Startled, Clarice turned her head to him. “What do you mean?” she asked to clarify, not understanding what that meant. She tried to jingle her memory if Ron’s family preferred to be cremated but as long as Clarice knew they were Protestant.

Carl gave her a sideways look, looking somewhat disturbed. “Dad doesn’t want to bury him inside the town—” he explained with a low voice as they exited out to the main road. “He said killers don’t deserve this town. They’re gonna take him out.”

Clarice’s feet stumbled lightly, her eyes widening hearing the words. “Take him out?” she echoed out in a low whisper.

He gave him a quick bob of his head. “Yeah. Deanna agreed. S-she told Dad to let the walkers have him.”

Clarice shook her head, her mind racing to Ron. Clarice had never liked the surgeon, not after what he’d caused for Bee, and today she’d seen Jessie’s face, her bruised split lips. There was a part of her that was glad it wasn’t Beatrice who had those bruises now, but Ron still deserved to know his father’s grave. The same way Clarice wished to know if her father was still with them, even lying beside Aiden in a grave.

“But it’s not right for Ron,” Clarice opposed, turning to Carl as she stopped walking, dropping her hand from his. “It’s still his father.”

“He killed Aiden, Cler.”

Cler. Her short name rolled over his tongue as he got closer to her, taking her hand again in his. Clarice let him even though she looked at him, feeling her eyebrows furrowing. Her eyes darted over to the house across them then, trying to see a figure over the windows, but she saw nothing. Her gaze still on their house, Clarice shook her head. “He won’t like this, Carl.”

Carl didn’t reply but gave her a nod before they started walking again toward his house.

# # #

“You need to come—” Denise told them on the porch, heaving out deeply, her tired and weary tones latched on desperation. It was a sentiment everyone in the town shared today so Amanda wasn’t surprised.

The three of them were standing against the railings alone. Amanda and Rick were in the same position since they came back from the funeral, watching the town silence before Denise joined up them five minutes ago. She’d spent last night in a very similar fashion too after the shock of what had happened slowly passed and the assembly slowly fanned out, everyone retreating to their houses.

Without knowing what else to do, Amanda had followed Carol and Joan back to the house with Beth while Rick stayed to deal with the bodies. She didn’t want to stay and witness it when Rick started to pry Deanna from Aiden’s body, gently but firmly. What needed to be done was urgent and a necessity, even though Deanna still fought with him. In the end, the rest of her family came to Rick’s help, and they hauled up the crying woman at both sides before dragging her away like she was a broken puppet, her strings cut off.

The sight had pained Amanda even deeper, her heartstrings twisting further. She could still see it whenever she closed her eyes, which was the reason why she didn’t do it last night. Upon their return, the others had gone inside the house, but opting to stay on the porch in the open air, Amanda watched the town in the dark.

When Rick finally came back around the dawn, hands and face still covered blood, without a word, he stood beside her over the railings, clutching the edge with his right hand, and then they stayed like that until the sun completely broke over.

They didn’t talk much, only a few words over and then, and Rick didn’t offer to go up to the master bedroom, and Amanda didn’t ask, either. Judy was still with Carl, and she wasn’t sure if she could stay alone in the same room with Rick now.

The things they never talked about had grown like a chasm between them, and Amanda wondered despite their best efforts if they would ever be able to manage to cover it. She still wanted to be with him, but the rest was a mess, a mess that she didn’t care about at the moment, so when the dawn broke, she just told him they needed to clean up and prepare for the funeral, eyeing his blood-covered face and hands.

They still needed to do it, pay their respects, and say their goodbyes. Sometimes, Amanda felt like she wasn’t good for anything else other than that. The scene played in her mind, the scalpel glinting in the dark suddenly and she unfastened her holster, drawing her gun, but she was already too late.

Too little, too late.

It was then Rick told her they weren’t going to bury Anderson in the town. “We’re not gonna bury him here. We’ll get him outside,” he’d said, leaving the rest of the words unsaid. Like how they should have done in the first place. “He doesn’t deserve this town.”

It was a moment of dejavu Rick telling Deanna that man was a disaster was waiting to happen, and once more, he was right even when he was wrong. Still, Amanda had wanted to object, wanted to tell him they were different than him, that Pete Anderson was a bad, vindictive person, who had dug his own grave, but they were not. She wanted to tell him good people didn’t leave their dead at the roadside, but then she remembered the moment Aiden clutched his throat, blood spraying out of him like a cascade, his legs tumbling toward the ground… it all had happened in slow motion like in the movies, Amanda watching the scene frozen, her stretched arm dropping at her side as the same time Aiden fell.

Amanda didn’t reply then, but only nodded curtly, her eyes pinching. The good people perhaps didn’t drop their dead at the roadside like an empty sack, but Aiden didn’t deserve to rest down with his murderer a few feet away from him.

When Rick told Deanna about it before the funeral service, the old woman’s grey face was expressionless, devoid of any emotion. “Take him out—” she ordered Rick plainly. “Let the walkers have him.”

It was the last time they heard Deanna speak.

“After we came back from the funeral, she locked herself in—” Denise went on, shaking her head with that desperate agitation. “She doesn’t come out, doesn’t answer, doesn’t talk. She’s grieving, and we should give her space and time, but I don’t know how to handle the situation,” the therapist admitted after a brief pause. “Some asks about Pete, some asks about Aiden, and the rest asks about the walker you caught last night. You need to settle down the town.”

It was clear that the woman was out of her depths, but there was also another thing clear, that she thought calming down the town fall onto them. It was well past midday now, and they still had a body to take care of. Amanda understood the urgency for order and the need to see someone in charge after what had happened. She wasn’t surprised that Denise had come to look for Rick, nor she’d become saddled with him once more.

Rick nodded at the therapist with a small, curt movement. “We’ll be there shortly—” he said. “We need to speak to the townspeople first. But not in the lounge room. Where else we can speak?”

“We can use the patio outside the community center—” Denise replied quickly. “But I think we should stay clear away from the building today. We can go over the pond or use the tennis court or one of the fields.” She paused again, her eyes darting across the town. “How about the church?”

“Church?” Amanda echoed the suggestion, somewhat surprised. Even for the memorial service, Deanna didn’t want them to go to the house that they had conveyed to a church.

“Well, most of the fields are used for your training grounds—” Denise encountered. “And the pond doesn’t have sitting areas. I think we can use the chapel.”

Rick gave another nod. “Okay. Round them up an hour later. The whole town.”

After she left, Amanda turned to Rick.

“We need to take Anderson out—” she said, but holding the corner of the beams at the railings where they still stood, his body inclined more toward to the town than her, Rick cut him off.

“He’s gonna need to wait,” he replied, adding with a bitter dryness under his breath. “He’s not going anywhere.”

Amanda gave him a look, which Rick returned before he took a step closer to her, dropping his hand from the corner beam. His body still shifted toward the town spoke to her in volumes. He didn’t want to do this with her, not right now, but there was still a body they needed to take care of. Ron was still in the town, they still were going to live together, and Amanda wasn’t sure if they really should go and drop the sonofabitch at the roadside.

“Rick—” Amanda said then, getting closer to Rick. “A-are we going to leave him out there?” she asked but shaking his head as if understanding to what direction this talk was going, he cut her off.

“Amanda, not now. We don’t have time for this now. We still need to discuss what happened yesterday—” he told her, a growing frustration in his voice too as he turned to her fully. “If Steve Malkin tells the truth, and I’m afraid he does, then it means someone opened the door on purpose. We need to find out who. And there’s still that missing gun.”

They were all good points, priorities she couldn’t argue against. The thought that someone did something like that gave her a mild shudder, thinking what would have happened to the Johnsons or little Sarah if Rick had been late. Then she had another thought.

“What if it was Pete Anderson?” she asked. “Perhaps he did it before he came to the meeting.”

It was a thought that Amanda almost wanted to kick herself not to think of it before, but she supposed she should give herself some slack for her lack of attention this time as she had witnessed a murder in real time.

But instead of a stern look or narrowing eyes, Rick shook his head. “I thought of it before—” he said, and it felt like a stab. What Amanda had forgotten, Rick hadn’t. Her jaw squared as she really wanted to kick her ass now. “I asked Glenn if he left the house when he came to the gate. He said the sonofabitch didn’t leave the house. He went out after Glenn left his post in front of his house.”

Amanda gave a curt nod, before she thought something else too, remembering Rick’s words, remembering the way Carter blamed Rick for it. “What about Carter?” she asked, giving Rick a pointed look. “He was too quick to pin it on you. Perhaps he did it so he could have more points against you in the meeting.”

Rick’s expression turned even graver after her words, but the way he looked at her told Amanda the thought had also crossed his mind, too. “Yeah. That’s why I need another gathering—” Rick said. “If it were him, I want him to confess in front of everyone.” His eyes darted away from her before he added, “I’m fed up with being the scapegoat.”

There was a bitterness in his tone, something that pinched her chest because she knew it was also directed at her. Their many fights regarding the issue briefly flashed in her mind, Rick always taking responsibility for everything, then Amanda telling him not to make excuses for himself. Was it possible to fall in love with someone for what they were, for who they were, then grew frustrated, angry because of it?

It was a damn tangle Amanda didn’t know even where to start to untangle, so she asked another unfinished business, mostly to change the topic. “What about the herd? We need to deal with them, too.”

“We secured the exits, closed up the trucks—” he replied evenly. “It’s gonna have to wait. We need to put things back together in the house first.” He shook his head, dipping it, and she knew what he said the next was a murmur more for himself than for her. “I let this go too far, damn too far.”

Amanda subdued a sigh, realizing she didn’t know where to put the blame anymore. She’d accused him of starting this with Pete Anderson, now Rick was blaming himself not to finish it, his words to Deanna and her still tingling in her ears. You should’ve let it do it. Amanda remembered the sewers, the shot she had made to stop the walker, and she wondered if Aiden would’ve still been alive today if she chose differently that day. It was a question Amanda wasn’t sure anymore if she wanted to know the answer.

# # #

Inside the church, the townspeople were looking at him questionably, but silently. The house was redecorated to assemble it to a church as much as possible, the living areas and the parlor had turned to the chapel that in front of its altar, Rick was standing. Behind him, there was a long narrow window with delicate colored glass that filled the room with specks of glinting color, pale winter sunlight seeping through it. It was the first time he stayed beneath a cross after his last prayer got him rewarded with his son almost dying by a stray bullet, and Rick felt as weary and forlorn as the last time.

He had killed another man last night, and his only regret was now not doing it earlier, despite the consequences. He just should've listened to his gut feeling and killed the bastard. But what was done, was done, and no amount of second guessing was going to bring back Aiden or was going to make things right again. They were the ones who still needed to make it. The living ones.

Rick ran his eyes over the crowd the air in the room tensing even further under his stern gaze. One of these people had sabotaged them last night, opened the gate, possibly because to make him steep lower before the townspeople. The only man Rick could think wanting it that desperately, putting everyone at risk was Carter, and he didn’t want a confrontation with the man to happen in private after last night.

“What happened last night—” Rick started then, choosing his words carefully but firmly. He didn’t want to scare these people, but he needed them to understand. Understand what was at the stake.

“It happened because we acted too late, refused to see what was in front of us, refused to act on it, and a good man paid for it. But it won’t happen again.” He paused to correct himself. “We can’t let it happen again.” He was not going to let it happen, but it left that part unsaid, his episode in front of Anderson’s house was still too fresh in the mind, but what Rick had told then; they were true. He wasn’t going to stand by and watch this town slip under his feet.

“We’re standing in a church, so let all confess our faults. Deanna didn’t know we took the guns from the armory,” he spoke as plain as possible, his words as blunt as his voice. He didn’t want to lie to anyone anymore. He was sick of lies, sick of secrets. This was who he was, what he had done to protect his family, and he was never going to apologize for it.

There was a stir among the crowd after his words, people fidgeting looking at him. Rick’s eyes cast down to Amanda who sat at the first row of the seats directly in his sight. Even if she was surprised by his confession, it didn’t show off. She looked blankly placid, her face bearing her taciturn mask, just staring at him, waiting for him to continue. So Rick did, raising his voice a notch to go over the murmurs.

“We asked for her permission, but we did it after we took them. We didn’t know you, so we wanted to protect ourselves if it came to worst. We hid one of the guns inside the greenhouse and someone took it from there.”

That confession raised even louder murmurs, the townspeople darting looks at each other, trying to process what Rick had just told them. Expectedly, Carter was the first one to stand up again. “Are you telling us that someone stole one of the guns you’d stolen from us?”

Rick shrugged. “Maybe she or he just found and took it. I don’t know. I don’t know who did it, or why he did it, other than the gun is missing. We need it back.” He paused, running his eyes across the crowd to make sure the townspeople understand the gravity of his words.

“You saw what happened when we let things go awry. We can’t tolerate it. Last night one of us left the gate open for the dead.” His eyes shot over to Carter. “It wasn’t me. I would never jeopardize my family like that. Perhaps it was a mistake, perhaps whoever did it, wanted to prove something, wanted to show something. Whatever it was, I’m open to hearing that confession too. Deanna told me yesterday if we want to be a community, we need to start trusting each other.” He stopped again, giving them a final look before he added. “If you think like her, you know where to find me.”

 He stepped down from the altar and walked out of the room, catching out of the corner of his eyes, Amanda standing up and following him out after a second. Outside, before Rick made his way to the main road, she joined him. Without a word, Rick trekked to Deanna’s house. If anyone came, he wanted to be at her house, the official governmental place, not in their house. When they arrived, Reg opened the door, but without a word, the old man left them at the door, going upstairs.

By that time, Denise had joined up at them. Glenn and Daryl were in their cortege too, lingering behind over the porch. Rick turned to the other two men before he crossed over the doorway. “You start another sweep,” he told them briskly. “Amanda and Aiden couldn’t find the gun yesterday but perhaps after what happened, whoever took it might decide to get rid of it.”

He wanted that gun found. He needed to find it and close up this thing. He’d already fucked up enough with this. Inside the house, Denise let them upstairs too, toward Deanna’s study. “I’m gonna see if she will come—” the therapist spoke lowly, leaving the room.

When they were alone, Amanda turned to him. “Do you think anyone would come?”

“We’re gonna see.”

She stared at him openly, her eyes a darker shade of green. “About needing to trust each other,” she said before she asked, “Did you mean it, or was it a ruse to…motivate them to confess?”

Rick expelled a sigh, looking back at her, but before he could answer her, Denise came back alone. The truth was that Rick meant both. Was it a ruse to move them into a confession, lowering their guards, just how he’d talked Shane into lowering his gun? The answer perhaps was positive, but he hadn't done it to stab his knife into their hearts. No. Deep down Rick had also meant it. He wanted to trust these people, wanted to live with them together. Sometimes he just didn’t know how they could.

Amanda’s eyes turned to Denise. “She still doesn’t come?” Rick asked.

Denise shook her head. “We should give her time. She needs to grieve.”

Rick gave a half loop of his head, feeling awkward suddenly, remembering his off-time. Rick had lost his shit after Lori’s death, but he still had Carl, he still had Judith. They had even manifested in his hallucinations to put him back on the right track. But the thought of losing his children, losing Carl, losing Judy. He couldn’t even imagine what kind of pain and suffering Deanna must be going through.

Amanda’s face paled even worse, too, as if she thought of the same, and another fear grabbed Rick suddenly, so out of blue, making him break cold sweat as those pills she couldn’t have kept in flashed over his eyes, the pills Rick had told her to throw away if that was what she wanted.

The fear was so stark, so bleak, and Rick thought of something else then, something he’d never thought of before. This time Amanda hadn’t wanted it, couldn’t have done it, took the pills instead, but she was still young. What if—what if one day she wanted to be a mother? Just imagining Amanda with their child made his chest swell, just like each time seeing her sleeping with Judy, but the fear was still there as cold and stark as last night.

The door downstairs ringed loudly, disrupting his sudden bleak thoughts, as Amanda whipped her head at the study’s door. “Someone came—” she spoke in a breathless voice, sounding startled.

Rick moved toward the tall window and peeked down outside. “It’s Nicholas—” he told them as Denise opened the door to greet the newcomer.

As they waited for them to come, Rick walked toward the seats in front of Deanna’s desk and sat down. Even staying in this room without Deanna felt odd to him, the empty chair making it worse. Denise returned with Nicholas a few moments later. Nicholas looked as deranged as last night, his amputated arm still protected against his chest.

The ginger head swept his look around the study before his gaze stopped at Rick. “It was me—” he told Rick then without further ceremony, still standing in the middle of the room as Denise took another seat across them. “I opened the gate after Steve left.”

“What?” Amanda cried out, springing up to her feet. “Nicholas! Why?”

Nicholas’s head snapped at her as Rick’s jaw clenched, only looking at the man. “I wanted them to see!” the younger man cried back at Amanda. “Wanted them to understand! Rick was right! You were right. They don’t know how it’s outside.”

“Nicholas—” Amanda uttered the name in a lower voice, letting out a loaded breath. “We could’ve lost Johnsons, little Sarah yesterday.”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone—” Nicholas replied, lowering his voice, bowing his head. “I just wanted them to wake up.” He paused, lifting his head and his eyes found Rick. “You said to come to confess if you believe it, so here I am. Confessing. What’s gonna happen now?”

Rick jerked his head in a brief nod. Both Amanda and Denise were eyeing him too for the answer. “Yeah—” Rick started. “We all made mistakes, but you came here empty-handed, looking for a clean slate.” He wasn’t armed, he wasn’t drunk, he wasn’t hiding a razor-sharp blade behind his back. They still could get back.

Hershel’s words from ages ago reflected from his memories before Rick told them with a low but firm voice, “We start over.”

There was even a part of him that felt relief it was Nicholas, but not anyone else. Had it been what they had thought first, if it were Carter, then they would’ve had another problem. The truth was that even though Rick hadn’t said out loud, he wasn’t sure if he would’ve started it with Carter if the man let the walkers in just to pin the blame on him.

“The gun—” Amanda questioned, cutting off his musings, directing her to look away from him to the younger man. “Did you take it, too?”

Nicholas shook his head. “No. I don’t know anything about that.”

“A’right—” Rick replied with another small nod. “We’re gonna look for it if anyone won’t come up.”

Giving him a small nod, Nicholas left the room.

In the end, no one else came.

Denise left them an hour after, saying she was going to check in with Jessie and Ron before they left the house too, admitting whoever took the gun, didn’t want to…start over, didn’t want to come clean.

Amanda walked beside him silently, her head bowed in that thoughtful way as the sky darkened above them. “We prepare for the herd this week and then do it—” Rick broke the silence, looking at the sky. The days were getting shorter and shorter, and they needed to deal with that herd before the winter fully arrived upon them.

Her head still inclined downwards, Amanda bobbed it slowly, murmuring, ‘’kay.’

Rick’s eyes shifted toward her, swallowing down a sigh. “Amanda—”

Suddenly cutting him off, stopping in at the mouth of the driveway, Amanda turned to him. The eyes that looked at him held no thoughtfulness now, no trepidation, but her irises shone brightly in dark green light with her stockpile determination and fierceness.

“If you want a clean slate with these people, Rick,” she told him with the same resilient way, “you need to make up with Carter.”

Rick permitted himself a resigned sigh. “And how do you suggest I do it, Amanda?” he asked back. “He hates me.”

Staring back at him, Amanda gave him a pointed look. “I didn’t suggest you become best pals—” she shot back. “Just do what Deanna has been doing. Don’t block him completely, listen to him.”

Rick wondered if she was aiming for a ‘keep your friends close but enemies closer’ angle, but stayed silent, waiting for her to continue, because she also started looking like how she usually did when the wheels spun in her mind and she started plotting.

“Deanna wanted to make a penal code, and she was right,” she went on. “We need it. Even if we had decided to act against Nicholas for what he did, we still wouldn’t know how to punish him. We talk to Deanna to form a council like in the prison and start forming up a penal and civil code. We invite Carter in, showing everyone that we intend to listen to the opposition too.” She paused, giving him a look. “Is it what democracy is, right?”

Briefly, Rick wondered what if Amanda would think of his little speech after the farm had fallen. That night he’d told them it wasn’t a democracy anymore. Later, he’d told his people he wasn’t their Governor, he couldn’t choose for the greater good, that he couldn’t decide who lived and who wouldn’t, and just last night, he’d told the whole town they had to decide who lived in here and who shouldn’t. Rick still didn’t want to be a Governor, didn’t want to make all decisions, but it didn’t mean he was wrong in what he’d said last night.

Pete Anderson had never deserved this place.

As if she read his mind, Amanda added, squaring her shoulders, directly looking at him in the eye, “And we need to bury him.”

Rick’s expression closed off further as he shook his head. “No. He doesn’t deserve this place.”

To his surprise, Amanda firmly nodded in agreement. “Aiden doesn’t deserve to live next to his murderer, yes—” she clipped with the same firmness, her voice toned with steel. “But we still can’t leave him at a roadside like an empty sack. We bury him outside, mark his grave and then move on.”

His eyes didn’t waver from hers as Rick looked at her back. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

She shook her head, looking as fiercely determined as ever. “Maybe, but this isn’t about him, but about us. About what we are. I don’t want to turn to such a person. Do you?” she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer, spinning on her heel, she turned and left for her own house.

The master bedroom was empty, Judith with Carl again. As Rick stared at the ceiling in the bed alone, the moments before and after Maggie’s funeral played in his mind before his exhausted body and sleep-deprived mind slowly lured him into the darkness. In his restless dreams, she was still fierce and determined as that day, telling him she wasn’t going to leave the butchered town like that no matter what, and Rick telling her he loved her in return.

The next day at dawn, Rick saw her waiting outside the porch in front of her house. Without a word, he made his way to the greenhouse, Amanda following him.

They buried the asshole under a fig tree outside the walls.

# # #

“She still doesn’t come out—” Denise remarked in a low voice apologetically, closing the door of Monroe’s house behind her, directing her look toward them as Amanda waited on the porch with Rick.

His hand inching over to his hip over his holster, Rick turned aside toward the town, shaking his head. His blue eyes clouded, he looked haggard with his stubble getting wilder and displeased as a scowl set up on his lips after the therapist’s remark. His expression hadn’t changed much in the last few days.

Despite her determination, Amanda felt the same too. Since that night three days ago that she’d told him they needed a council, they’d been trying to reach out to the old woman but didn’t have much success. Deanna was still refusing to talk to anyone, including even Denise. The old woman had locked herself in her room after Aiden’s funeral and hadn’t come out since then.

Swallowing a sigh, Amanda darted a look between them. “What about Reg? How is he?” she inquired. She didn’t have much hope in that regard, either, but still had asked. The whole Monroe clan had closed themselves in, even Spencer.

Denise shook her head, confirming her assessment. “He’s the same, too,” the therapist replied. “We should leave them in peace until they’re ready,” she went on, giving them a shy but pointed look. “They don’t want to talk to anyone.”

With a lopsided nod, Amanda understood the council she’d thought of was going to be more a substitution until Deanna pulled back to her feet as they didn’t have anyone else to replace her duties.  “We need a council to run this place at least—” Amanda told them. “Everything is in chaos.”

It wasn’t an understatement, either. Rick’s speech about confession and coming clean helped matters a bit, but the rest of the townspeople were keeping their distance, as if not wanting to get involved with the last events further after learning it was Nicholas who had opened the gate. Amanda had waited for another head-roll-off, at least a formal complaint from Carter, no one came to demand retribution for it.

Regardless, the cold, tense feeling in the town stayed between them, hanging heavily in the air with the unresolved tension and mysteries. They couldn’t have found the gun and no one else had come for another confession, either.

The plans to empty the quarry the next week hadn’t changed, but before they moved on with the plan, Rick wanted to finish preparations, with a complete dry-on. Her training classes finished, their priority was range lessons, then safe houses to set up, and teaching the townspeople how to trek in the woods safely. There were also safety lessons for the kids before the guns appeared in the town.

In other words, there was still so much to do and they couldn’t do it without a governing body. Rick had been acting as the de-facto leader in Deanna’s absence, but putting him officially in the position would create even more problems than they needed, so that meant they needed that council, now.

 “We do it ourselves—” Amanda announced, making up her mind. “We need Tobin, Carter, and Father Gabriel—” she continued, forcing out the last names through her tightened lips with a scowl.

As soon as she did, Rick’s immediate inquiring eyes found hers, too, with a half-raised eyebrow. “We can’t form a council with our buddies—” Amanda explained. “Tobin is the foreman of the construction team and the second-in-command after Reg. Carter and Father Gabriel are…well, I guess we can call them the opposition.” She looked at Denise. “You attend in Deanna’s place, Denise, managing the sessions between us—” She waved between her and Rick before she added after a pause. “We bring in Carol too.”

The older woman could be their secret soft power. Her presence would calm down if things went awry or tense between them if Denise had to play on the neutral ground. Denise had excused herself from the petitions, claiming rightly as the therapist of the town she couldn’t take place in such decisions. Tobin had signed in favor of them, but if they brought in Carol, they would tip the balance toward them in case that the foreman decided to side with the opposition.

“It sounds like a good plan until Deanna comes back—” Denise commented, turning to Rick to look for his appraisal.

Rick slowly bobbed his bowed head in admittance. “Yeah.”

“I’ll talk to them—” Denise replied, “We hold the first sitting…say…the next morning?” They both quickly nodded. Rick was planning to go out for range drills today, so the next morning sounded a better idea.

The therapist started leaving the porch but remembering there was something else Amanda needed to cover with the younger woman, Amanda stopped her, calling after her hurriedly.

“Denise—” the woman halted on the steps, turning toward her. “Have you talked to Jessie?”

Amanda had gone to see the newly widow twice after they took Anderson out, but both times, Jessie hadn’t answered even when Amanda saw her tall figure behind the curtains through the windows of the living room as she looked from the porch. Amanda didn’t know exactly what to think, but she didn’t want to speculate, either. Emotions and feelings were odd, most of the time didn’t make sense at all. Despite everything, despite wanting a split, despite Anderson having gone berserk, losing it, he was still her husband, the father of her only child.

Ron wasn’t any different, either. Amanda had tried to learn about the teenage boy from both Clarice and Beth, hell, even from Carl, but each of them had claimed the same; he didn’t answer their calls. Both Carl and Beth were expected, she guessed, but Amanda thought he and Clarice were close, had been close before Carl entered into their picture. It appeared Clarice’s dating with Carl had wounded their interactions more than Amanda thought so.

Denise shook her head, looking at her, her face having a different expression, too. Amanda could also feel Rick’s eyes on her, silently watching their exchange. “I went to see her yesterday,” the therapist replied, “but she doesn’t want to talk.” The therapist paused for a second, her eyes still on Amanda.  “She said she’s fine.”

Amanda felt a slight tremor passing over her hearing the words, remembering herself insisting telling Denise the very same thing whereas she’d been nothing but fine. All in honesty, she didn’t know how to deal with the situation on that front, but somehow she still felt responsible. She’d wanted to tell them what they had done. Anderson was still Ron’s father. The teenager deserved to know they didn’t drop his father like a potato sack at the roadside.

She had wanted to do the right thing, dammit! Hadn’t wanted to turn that callous, that ruthless like in Grady. Aiden didn’t deserve to rest with his murderer, but they weren’t still those people. She was relieved at least she’d managed to convince Rick to take the asshole out for burial, even though everything else was a tangled mess with him. They’d always been together in the last days, but never alone and they barely had any time other than planning and trying to keep up with the town. At nights she returned to the attic after her shifts, feeling spent as Rick dawdled around making his patrols.

They’d become stuck in that status quo again, unable to move forward. When she wasn’t angry, she felt sad, her mourning for Aiden turning to deep sorrow, and then her depressed feelings fueled her anger more until it turned to sadness again in a self-feeding loop. She wished she could have stayed mad at him, being angry at least was easier, but as she’d known since Lizzie, it was so hard to stay mad at Rick.

Each night before she went to sleep, she debated in her mind not to go to the master bedroom, not to slip in the bed like she’d been doing recently, but she just couldn’t.

Sitting down and talking, coming clean sounded like a good idea, but she still had no idea where to begin. Despite everything, there was still a part inside her that felt hurt that Rick hadn’t told her it was him who had threatened Anderson first after everything they’d been through. Carol had known it, he had shared it with the older woman when he’d decided to keep it secret from her. She knew it was hypocritical of her to blame him for this, especially when their biggest fights had always started with Rick feeling excluded by her. But she’d thought they were getting better, cracking their resolves and hindrances, being honest and open with each other. Perhaps it was why it hurt this much now.

Going to Denise to ask for help had passed in her mind a couple of times again, she was still having the same reservations she’d had before, the barriers between their therapist-client interactions blurring further when they saw each other in daily life when the woman attended her classes under her command. No. Whatever this was, Rick and she were going to have to deal with it on their own.

Amanda just didn’t know how.

Later…she told herself, just like each time. After the herd and everything settled down, and Deanna returned to her duties and they had a break, they would sit down and talk. Like they had promised to each other in the woods before.

Anger started simmering inside her after that, getting upset at him, at herself, for the situations they couldn’t stop but put themselves in. She supposed there wasn’t at least any more secret between them anymore, no hidden skeletons in the closets…as far as she knew. She might be very well pregnant with his child. They hadn’t even managed to clear that up!

The thought gave her such a sudden fear, Amanda trembled violently and forced her hand to stay still, not moving toward her stomach. She’d been trying not to think of that, a baby might be very well growing inside her, a piece of Rick. She shivered again, but this time she wasn’t even sure why, despite her fright and worries, there was something else that made her stomach coil tightly with the thought; a piece of Rick inside her.

Turning to her with narrowed eyes, reading her sudden change of demeanor, Rick gave her a look. “You ‘kay?”

She bobbed her head quickly, bowing it to run away from his intriguing eyes. “Yeah—” she murmured. “Just cold.”

They were alone now; Denise had already left. The urge to run away building in her more than ever, Amanda hurried down from the porch without another word. She still felt his eyes on her back as she breezed away from the house, but he didn’t follow her.

# # #

To Beth’s surprise, the door opened, and Ron looked at her from the other side of the threshold. He was clad in old sweatpants and an old sweatshirt, his face looking as old and grey as his clothes, not like the aloof young man who had dared her to smoke on their first day in the town.

It gave Beth a momentary sadness, making her remember how she’d felt after her father and Maggie’s death, the times Beth didn’t want to remember anymore. It wasn’t her, not anymore. It was another girl, a girl who still had her silly hopes, birthdays, summer picnics, and babies, a girl who had died a long time ago.

 But still…perhaps a part of her still lived, as Beth had found herself in front of their house in the morning. “Hi—” she said in a small voice, looking at her former boyfriend.

Ron still stared at her silently. Beth fidgeted, biting her bottom lip. Behind him in the corridor, she caught the ghostly figure of Jessie Anderson in a faded robe too before the woman disappeared toward their kitchen. Beth waited for a second to hear from her, perhaps to tell her son to come inside, but nothing came. Much like Deanna, Mrs. Anderson had locked herself in her own house in grief, too, even though Beth wasn’t sure her douchebag husband was worth it.

“Um—” Beth hummed, her attention turning to Ron again, then she stopped not knowing how to continue. She wondered why she’d even come in the first place, what had urged her to knock on their door other than that misguided feel of companionship for their losses. She shook her head, but before she took a step back and left the house, Ron suddenly spoke to her.

“Do you know where they took my father?” he asked, not mincing the words. “I asked Clarice this morning. She doesn’t know.”

Startled, Beth looked at him, understanding he hadn’t answered the door because it’d been her. “I’m sorry,” she answered, keeping her tone placid and civil. “Amanda just said they took him out. I can—” she continued, but before she completed to tell him she could ask, the door slapped in her face, leaving Beth staring at it.

# # #

When they entered the community center the next morning, Rick felt the icy, tense air inside the building that had nothing to do with the cold outside.

The question was first raised by Carol last night when Amanda and Rick had explained to her and the others about Amanda’s idea of forming a council to govern the town until Deanna came back. Carol then had raised the point where there was going to do it, as they couldn’t keep meeting in Deanna’s house anymore as the Monroe family was still grieving.

Amanda had offered the church first, like the last time he’d summoned the town for a meeting, but Rick refused. What had happened was bad, but they had to return to normalcy now. Even the catastrophic events of the last days, their realities hadn’t changed.

The herd was still out there. Rick understood the need for grief, he’d been a mess after Lori’s death, but when Governor came to their doors, he had no options but came back. Rick didn’t want to live the same thing, not again with Alexandria. He could not sleep well before they dealt with those walkers, and there were also those Wolves in the woods. They had to move on. They didn’t have any other choice.

Rick sometimes wondered if he was a sonofabitch for feeling like that because sometimes it felt like he was the only one who recognized that fact. Deanna was refusing to leave her room, much like Jessie Anderson despite Amanda’s constant insistence on trying to talk to her. The gun Carl had taken was still missing, no one else than Nicholas had come to talk to them. The look Carter was fixing at him now told Rick the other man wasn’t still happy despite Rick’s efforts to keep things between them…civil. And, Amanda, well, Amanda had made sure they didn’t stay alone in the same place even for a minute since Aiden’s funeral.

Rick wasn’t surprised, and he tried not to be bitter, either, trying to tell himself instead that her clock ran in her convenience, too, that her catlike nature was going to make her come back to him whenever she felt ready. There was also a part of him that whispered that he deserved this, but Rick didn’t want to dwell on it. No. Whatever happened, happened. He’d tried to warn them, but, Rick just wanted her back now. Where she belonged.

Even Judith had missed her presence in the master bedroom, crying for her maa. Rick had even thought a couple of times to ask her help for Judy. Amanda wouldn’t have refused it, but it felt wrong. Besides, Rick wanted her back because she wanted it, not because he manipulated her for it.

His eyes found hers as they took the empty seats over the round table and seating bench set closest to the exit and she flickered her eyes away in that quirky elusive way, not wanting to make direct eye contact with him.

“I suggest recording the meetings—” Carter spoke as soon as he settled at the other side of the circular sofa bench, putting down a camera on the table.

Rick almost rolled his eyes. Denise nodded quickly, taking it. “Yeah—” she turned to Carter. “Did you bring a tripod?”

Carter shook his head. Then they took their first break as Denise left to find the necessary equipment to set up the camera. Carol looked at them with that kind smile while Rick tried to keep his face expressionless despite the absurdity of the situation. Amanda had dipped her head, staring at her lap. No one tried to break the silence, too.

When Denise returned, she quickly set it up before she took her seat again. The looks found him afterward, waiting for him to speak. The implication that they regarded him as the leader in Deanna’s place even though Denise was filling her became clear again even though Rick didn’t know what to think of it. He had no problems accepting the responsibility of his people, and making sure Alexandria stayed safe and protected, but taking the full responsibility of the townspeople was a whole another matter.

Though, still, it didn’t look like Rick had any other choice until Deanna came back.

“We need to decide about the teams for the herd—” Rick started with a placid cool voice, sorting through in his head all the stuff they needed to talk over and deciding the herd had the utmost urgency. “Which group will do what. We need to make sure there isn’t anything on the road that would break their line until we bring them to the north.”

Heath’s team had been going out since last week, trying to map out the quarry’s surrounding area to locate the weak points. A few times, Glenn had accompanied him, taking over Aiden’s place, Daryl assisting them. Abraham and Rosita had covered another track with Noah and the other two young men they’d saved from Terminus, while he, Amanda, and Sasha looked to find safe houses in the woods when Rick didn’t make the range drills. Even Beth had gone out with Glenn once, Amanda looking conflicted, but not protesting. Her new boyfriend joined them too, taking Nicholas’s place.

They still needed a lot of people from the town to help them to keep the herd from scattering away as they herded them up to the north. His eyes darted toward Amanda’s list that was still pinned down on the wall across him before he let it out, jerking his head at it. “We also need to recruit people on the list.”

Carter gave him a stern look. “What if they don’t want to participate?”

Rick returned his look with the same sternness, wondering if he was going to buttheads with the man always. “They live in this town. They have to help.”

“We saw what happened with Steve—” Tobin cut in between them, raising another point. “He wasn’t ready. He left his duty unattended.”

“I talked to him—” Amanda replied quickly but stiffly. “It won’t happen again. He misunderstood.”

“Yeah. Johnsons almost died because of his misunderstanding—” Carter shot back.

Despite everything, Rick couldn’t bring himself to deny that fact. “Making mistakes is a part of the learning process.” Her eyes flittered over to him as she repeated her words to Hershel in the prison to the other men this time. “We’ll make rookies team up with the experienced fighters, so they can have backup and supervision. But Rick is right. We need people.”

“I’m still not sold that’s the way—” Carter insisted stubbornly, slanting a look at his current resident after Amanda had kicked the holy man out of their house. But Father Gabriel stayed silent.

“This is the way—” Rick repeated curtly.

“So you say…”

Rick scowled, his jaw squaring further, the tense cold air in the room turning icy. He didn’t want to be their Governor, but sometimes they were pushing him too hard, damn too hard.

“We cleared up this with Deanna—” Amanda spoke before Rick did, much like she used to do for the conflicts between him and the older woman.

“Officer Shepherd is correct. Deanna agreed with this plan, so we should continue—” Denise came to her help.

“Daryl is gonna lead the cortege with Aaron’s bike—” Rick quickly summarized the plan they’d devised last night together back their home after then. Joan had insisted to go with him, not wanting him to go alone, making Daryl’s cheeks and neck red like Rick had never seen it before.

 But his hunter brother had objected, saying she would slow him down if things went badly on the backside of the bike, open to threats. Amanda had agreed but then remarked someone else had to cover his back with a car, just in case. Rick agreed with her after that, too, even though she seemed to think like it had to be her. Rick then proposed Abraham assist Daryl, Amanda leading another team to control the herd at both sides of the road with him.

When their eyes met briefly, sharing a look, Rick had wondered if they were going to have another discussion, but the next moment Amanda nodded without another word, looking away from him. He needed her, and Rick hoped she at least knew about that for sure if nothing else.

“Joan wants to go with Abraham—” Rick remarked after he finished, deciding to leave the council what to do with their only remaining functional medical officer. Rick had thought of taking Bob with them but risking Joan this way after they lost Anderson wasn’t something even Rick wanted, despite the former nurse’s insistence. Deanna certainly wouldn’t let it happen, either.

As if they thought the same, the voices raised from their table. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea—” Tobin slowly said.

“I agree,” Rick replied. “But it has to be the council’s consensus decision.”

“I’ll talk to her—” Carol cut in. “She’s got a lot of responsibilities now anyways. I’m sure she will understand.”

It wasn’t an exaggeration. Since Anderson’s death, Joan had become even busier, her duties increasing further. It’d made her even more determined, making her drop out everything else, passing her days in the infirmary buried in the books until she heard what Daryl was going to do with the herd. It was the final proof for Rick to realize that whatever between her and Daryl, it had become very serious.

“When will we be ready for it?” Carter questioned, scratching on a paper in front of him, jerking his eyes up at Rick. “I guess you’re still in a hurry?”

Ignoring his derisive tone, Rick gave the man a curt nod. Yesterday he’d finished the range lessons and spotted a few places that would make good safe houses. They still needed to prepare those and then there were children's safety classes, which reminded him of another thing that had been bugging him.

“We will be able to make the dry run in two days—” he explained his time slot. “But we need to give children gun safety class before we start distributing the guns. On that issue, there’s something else we need to do too,” he declared and then watched as they all looked at him questionably.

The missing gun. He’d waited enough to see if anyone else would take his offer after things cooled down, but no one had come. And that meant, whoever took was keeping it as Rick made sure they checked every stone underneath to find it, only excluding the houses and other personal properties. Searching through the houses wasn’t something Rick was particularly looking forward to, but he had no other choice. He had to find that gun. Just like he should’ve dealt with Anderson long ago.

His face getting decisive, Rick stared them back before his eyes cut over to Amanda. Her face was a mask of placid contemplativeness as she regarded him with heavy, pensive eyes as if she’d already realized whatever was going to come out of his mouth was going to put him at odds with the townspeople again. That was another reason why this had to be a council’s order. Rick was tired of this, fighting with teeth and nails for everything he wanted to do, putting himself at odds with Amanda in the meanwhile, too.

  “We have to look for the missing gun—” Rick said simply before pausing briefly to add. “Inside the houses.” Bowing her head slightly, Amanda let out a low sigh. “Whoever took it, still hasn’t given it up and we couldn’t find it outside on the grounds. That means perhaps it’s in the houses.”

They couldn’t allow a missing gun on the loose in the town. The distribution of the guns had to be done under strict supervision. They needed to know how much weaponry and ammo each person had, or who should have them. They couldn’t risk another Anderson situation with firearms. His fuck up was bad enough, but Rick didn’t want anyone else to have other ideas.

“We need to decide who’s gonna be allowed to carry firearms inside,” Rick continued. “We shouldn’t let everyone carry a gun.”

After that, Carter looked at him with widened eyes. “Are you really serious about it?” he asked, his voice sounding in disbelief.

Rick was aware of how hypocritical he sounded, but hypocrisy was a short path to travel in these days. He merely looked at the other man.

“You stole guns from the armory, for God’s sake!” Carter cried out.

“And that’s why we need to make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Rick pointed out calmly even though his words had a stiffness inside. Deanna’s inventory had almost blown them up, but all things considered, Rick had felt better the old woman wasn’t that much of optimistic that didn’t keep up with her arsenal. Rick should’ve known better, but he let appearances fool him. Not again.

Never again. The help came this time not from an unexpected place, even though things were still strained between them, Rick knew Amanda wouldn’t argue with him on this. “Rick’s right—” she said placidly. “We need to find it.”

“So you want us to give you…search warrants?” Tobin asked, not sounding comfortable with the idea.

“Yeah. I want to do it, but without raising a fuss,” he admitted.

“We vote for it—” Father Gabriel remarked before anyone else could make another word. “If this’s our first official session, we need to vote for an administrative decision.”

“How are we going to decide but?” Tobin asked the obvious, too. “By the majority of votes or by unanimity of votes?”

Carol gave the older man a small smile. “If we look for unanimity of votes, we might not decide anything at all.”

“We should leave the principles of decision making until we sit down and start making penal and civil code like Deanna has wanted—” Denise came in between them again. “For this instance, the majority of votes should be enough. If we have a tie, I’ll have the tie-breaking vote.”

When she was finished, she ran her eyes over them, looking for confirmation. They all nodded. It sounded like the best, practical idea. All in honesty, politics had never been his strongest suit, just like Deanna had surmised. Sheriff Bowman used to tell him he could win the elections for the next round when he retired if only Rick had in him that knack for politics. Rick never had political ambitions, though. He’d only wanted to serve and help his community and people. Making the world a better place.

Those days were gone by long ago now. But Rick was still surprised when they reached the unanimity of the votes when even Carter and Father Gabriel raised their hands.

Rick gave the men a look. Carter shook his shoulder, jerking his head at Amanda. “She was right. We need to find that gun. There’re children in this town.” His face pulled down with a grimace. “We’ve had enough accidents.”

Rick let the words wash over him again, believing they still made progress today. After the voting, everyone started leaving, but Amanda stopped Denise before the woman made her way toward the exit.  “Hey, Denise—” she called out to the therapist. “Have you managed to talk to Jessie this morning?”

It appeared that they’d talked about it again yesterday because Denise shook her head. “No. She still doesn’t answer.”

Amanda nodded, her expression stiffening even worse as Rick swallowed a sigh. She started moving out after Denise, too, but Rick stopped her before she did. “Amanda—”

She halted at the doorway, looking aside at him when Rick called after her. He walked closer to her and shoved his hands inside his front pockets when he stood in front of her. He wanted to tell her to stop, but he also knew that was calling for another fight, something Rick didn’t want to start with her.

God! Even properly dead, put down with a bullet between his eyebrows, the asshole was still giving Rick troubles!

“What?” Amanda asked curtly, looking at him.

“You’ve been trying to talk to her for days—” Rick finally let it out, not mincing his words further. “And each time she’s refused,” he pointed out. “Maybe you should stop trying now.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

Rick shook his head, not taking her bullshit. There was a part of him that was also getting angry, how she kept trying to reach out to someone who didn’t want to talk to her, whereas she’d been ignoring his every attempt, didn’t even stay with him in the same place for a few minutes.

“You know what I mean,” he snapped back. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“So I should leave her alone?”

“Perhaps you should try to talk to someone else who has been trying to talk to you—” he shot back, his eyes recapturing hers. “Amanda, are you still mad at me?”

She shot him a sneering look after that. “What do you think, Rick? I’m happy because you lied to me?”

“Lie to you?” he repeated slowly, getting closer to her. “I didn’t lie to you, Amanda. I just didn’t tell you it was me who threatened him first. Just like you didn’t tell me you agreed to go to D.C before I found out.”

As soon as the words left him, Rick knew he made a mistake telling her that, but hurt and anger had cut him too deeply to hold them back. Letting out a bitter sound, she shook her head, her eyes still on him. “I knew you were going to spin this on me, too…”

“On you?” Rick took another step, crying out the last word. “For Christ’s sake, Amanda, I didn’t make Anderson finish a whole bottle of whiskey and take a scalpel from the infirmary! Why do you think he did that?” he asked with the same bitterness but didn’t wait for an answer. “That stroke was meant for me!”

“I know that!” she cried back. “B-but—”

His voice raised an octave when she didn’t complete. “But what?” he yelled. “It would’ve been me instead of Aiden, Amanda! You could’ve lost me!”

She was looking at him with widened eyes now, but Rick only shook his head before he left the lounge room.

Notes:

This was initially a big single chapter dealing with the aftermath of Aiden and Pete Anderson's death, preparing the narrative and Amanda/Rick for the next step with the herd and the finale, but it became too long that I had to cut it in two again. So, I'll probably add the next chapter too soon.

Like I said before in my author note for the previous chapter, I grew so sad while writing Aiden's death, so I challenged my own feelings regarding that, making Amanda utter those words; her regret and sorrow about the missed opportunities; that poker game they never played and that drink they never shared... That was me, too! Funny enough, in the story, I usually feel myself the most close to Joan, not Amanda, although we fanfiction writers are usually more inclined to reflect our own personalities and hardships on our main character; I'm more like 'Joan' than 'Amanda', but in that instance, I really felt like Amanda. It was a weird experience, but was very nice, too.

Things are gonna get very complicated between Amanda and Jessie, an aspect that wrote itself during the writing process. I wanted Jessie to shut herself out from the town, too, like Deanna, dealing with her grief, and it's gonna come up more.

Until the next time!

Chapter 45: 'Moving on'

Summary:

Wanting all of them to move on from what happened, Amanda decides to take Ron outside to show the grieving teeanger his father's grave as Rick tries to prep the townpeople with a drill in the woods.

Notes:

Oh my god, I can't believe it's almost a week since I updated, feels like it was just yesterday. This global crisis has hit us really hard, it's mad. My brain feels like a sponge, so this isn't edited, I only ran Grammarly once. If it has got some stuff not coherent or continuity errors, please bear with me. I just wanted to update because I said I was going to.
Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Jessie, open the door—” Denise’s voice came from outside, and Jessie was going to ignore it like how she had been doing for the last days, since that night, but then it continued, “We need to search the house. It’s the council orders.”

For a few seconds, the words didn’t make sense. Searching her house? Council orders? But it only took a few of them because the next moment, her pulse started accelerating. Had they learned about it? She’d been very careful when she learned it. If they also learned what Ron had done...

No. Jessie couldn’t let it happen. Everything was in chaos in her, and she didn’t even know what to think. Would she feel relief or guilt? She wanted to leave Pete, yes, but she didn't want it to be like this. The moment of the gun banging boomed in her mind again, and Pete’s face with a bullet in the middle of his forehead…

They’d told her before she wasn’t alone, but she felt so lonely. So afraid. It must’ve been a mistake. An accident. Pete was a douchebag, yes, but, he wouldn’t have meant it. He wouldn’t have meant to hurt anyone!

Her fingers touched at her lips, feeling for the bruised, scarred skin. It wasn’t there anymore. It’d passed. She still remembered the hand that fell on her face, but the scars had passed. And there was no Pete Anderson anymore. Jessie didn’t know what to make of that. How was she going to make her life now? She’d been trying to find the answer to that question for days, but when all things settled down, she understood she didn’t have any idea how to do it when she had asked them for a split up.

She had been just so hurt—so angry at him...but perhaps he deserved another chance? The moment came to her again, the scalpel shining in his hand. Why had he even taken it from the infirmary?

The answer was in her, too, but Jessie was afraid to say it out loud.

They knocked on the door again, carefully, a way too carefully. They’d been very careful with the in the last days, coming at her doorsteps, knocking on her door, wanting to talk. Jessie hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone. Just wanted them to leave her alone.

Was that a contradiction? She was so afraid of how she and her son were going to survive in this godawful world now, but she was refusing to talk to anyone. “Jessie, please—” she heard Amanda’s voice then, a bit flatter, even the imploring word had firmness in it. “We’ve got a council order.”

That word again. Her brows furrowed, but this time she opened the door. “What council?”

“Deanna withdrew to her house—” the police officer answered flatly. “We’ve formed a council to run the place now.”

What she had kept unsaid made Jessie tremble. Deanna had retreated to her house in her grief like her. She felt a blade cut into her, her emotions flooding her.

Jessie wished she could’ve spoken to the old woman and explained, told her—told her…told her Pete wouldn’t have meant it, but then all her blood turned to ice when she remembered the way the old woman uttered the words.

Do it.

Just like that. Two words. Simple. Not even giving him a chance to defend himself, a chance to explain.

Do it.

Jessie had seen Sheriff’s expression as he pulled the trigger. He hadn’t even blinked. That moment had been with her since that night, haunting her in the dark, words and the gunshot echoing in a void together with Aiden’s blood-covered face.

Suppressing another tremble, Jessie shooed away the image from her, shaking her head. “Why are you searching for the houses?”

“We’re looking for the missing gun—” Amanda answered, and Jessie’s heartbeat hastened again with panic.

Did they learn what Ron had done? That’s why they had come to search the house?

Because the reason why Jessie didn’t want to talk to them wasn’t only because of Pete.

Jessie had found the gun in Ron’s room even before Rick Grimes gathered the townspeople inside the church. Ron had been looking at it blankly, sitting on his bed when Jessie entered his room. With one look, Jessie had understood what it was, had realized that it was Ron who had taken that infamous missing gun.

With her heart in her throat, Jessie just quickly snatched it away from him, afraid even to ask what her son was thinking staring at the gun. She left the house at night secretly after then and buried it—not even telling Ron where it was.

Panic rose in her further. What would they do to Ron if they found out? Jessie had even thought of going to confess about it a few times, but she couldn’t dare. They had promised no retributions, but Jessie just couldn’t take the chance, not after Pete.

Her fear must have been clear because softening her voice, Denise told her, “It is standard procedure. We search all houses.”

Amanda’s expressions hadn’t softened; she was giving Jessie one of those assessing looks of her, her eyes pinched in trepidation. She was about to say something, too, but before she could, Ron suddenly ran down from the upstairs.

“Where did you take my father?” her teenage boy challenged the former police officer directly, who stood at the doorway, shooting daggers at her.

Jessie felt another blade stab her in her chest. Ron had been trying to find where they’d taken Pete. Jessie had heard him asking Clarice and Beth when they came to check on them.

“Ron—” Jessie tried to calm down her son, waiting for them gone as soon as possible, but raising his hand, Ron stopped her.

“No, mom. Stay out of this. I want to know where they left him!”

Amanda’s face stiffened. “We didn’t leave him. We buried him under a fig tree.”

“Where?” Ron questioned further, closing in on her. Amanda didn’t even flinch.

“I can’t give you directives for the woods—” she explained. “But I can show you. We’re gonna show a group how to trek in the woods after midday. If you come with us—”

“I’m not coming anywhere with you—” Ron snapped.

“We’re going up until the quarry—” the police officer continued, still not taken aback with her son’s open hostility, slanting a sideway look at Jessie. “We set up a safe house in the woods. We need to show it to you. All townspeople need to know where it is in case of emergencies.”

“It’s mandatory—” Denise supplied in after her. “I’ll go too.”

Not getting more cross with them, Jessie nodded quickly. “Okay. We’ll come.”

Ron shot at her a pissed look, but Jessie ignored it, closing the door. Without a word, his son stormed off over the upstairs again, banging the door so hard they heard it downstairs.

Closing her eyes at the loud sound, Jessie heaved tiredly. “He—he was—” She stopped, her tiredness fueling a fit of anger too. “Did you have to take him out?” she asked coldly, gazing at them.

Perhaps things would have been easier with Ron if he still at least had his father’s grave inside the walls. When he had heard what they had done, Jessie had barely managed to keep him in the house. She was still checking him in his room all night, only sleeping on pins and needles, afraid that he would do something stupid, jerking up from her slumber each time she heard something.

Amanda didn’t answer it, instead walked over to their living area. “You can visit me at my house—” Denise offered quickly. “If we can talk about it if you want—”

Jessie cut her off, shaking her head, her newfound courage breaking over her fears and reservations. “No. I want to know why Amanda and Sheriff Grimes took him out! You could at least bury him here!”

“Jessie—”

Amanda cut her off too. “No, Denise, it’s okay. Jessie deserves an explanation. I’ve been trying to talk to you—” she continued, giving her look, “trying to explain.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t want to talk to anyone—”

“I understand—” she replied evenly. “I understand this’s hard for both of you, but you have to understand Deanna and Rick, too.”

Jessie shook her head again. “They just executed him.”

“He killed Aiden, Jessie.”

“It was—it was an a-accident—” she sputtered out, but her words came faintly even to her ears.

“He came to the meeting with a hidden weapon. Not a knife, not a slicer, not even a letter opener, but a scalpel.” She paused, staring at Jessie. “Are you telling me he was keeping one on his person?” She continued when Jessie didn’t answer. “He took it from the infirmary on purpose.”

“Rick was carrying a gun too—” she encountered. “He drew it on us.”

“His safety was on all along—” Amanda told her. “He never turned it off. I hope you didn’t believe Rick would threaten anyone with a gun with its safety isn’t taken off.” She opened her mouth, but before Jessie could say anything, the former police officer continued. “And Rick didn’t kill anyone, Jessie, accidentally or on purpose. He didn’t hurt anyone. Pete did.”

There was nothing she could tell for that, but only, “He still didn’t deserve to be executed like that.”

“I know it’s hard—” the other woman continued coolly, “But try to put yourself in Deanna’s place. If it were Ron who was killed like that, would you still think the same?”

“It isn’t right—” Jessie still opposed. “Ron doesn’t deserve this, either.”

“I know.” The answer, the simple admittance broke her further, and Jessie swallowed down her sobs. “But that’s what happened. We need to make our peace with it.”

Jessie let out a bitter low scoff after that, shaking her head. “It’s easy for you to speak. You didn’t lose anyone.”

She didn’t, it was her who lost her husband, not Amanda who had still her man that would protect her although she didn’t have any child, but the former officer just looked at her with the same cool demenaour she had spoken. “You’re wrong, Jessie. I’ve lost more people than you can count. And I hope you will never have to live what I did to understand me one day.”

# # #

“What are you doing?” Rick asked, his brows pulling to a scowl as he turned to Steve Malkin who had taken the point with him in front of the sewage exit.

Steve’s hand halted, closing in over the compass he had brought out of his pocket. Behind them, Amanda held on to her sigh, rethinking over her assessment for putting the man up in her list. The man wasn’t a fool, but sometimes he really acted foolishly.

“Did you bring a compass?” Rick asked somberly, his face blankly devoid of any expression with that haggard look. He’d been like this all the morning, only opening his mouth to give curt, quick orders, or flat explanations. His usually clear blue eyes were clouded, half-hidden under his unkempt locks.

Amanda’s mood was equally bad, especially after her morning encounter with Jessie. They had finally talked, and Amanda almost wished they hadn’t. Her eyes flicking over to the end of their lines, she gave a quick look to the mother and son.

What Jessie had told her for the last had been haunting her since the morning, together with Rick’s angry fit from last night. You would’ve lost me there. It’s easier for you to speak. You didn’t lose anyone.

Amanda didn't sleep a wink last night, and she knew Rick hadn’t, either. The scene was playing in her mind on repeat whenever she closed her eyes, but differently. It wasn’t Aiden this time but Rick when Anderson’s hand raised, holding his neck, blood sputtering out him before he slowly fell on the ground, their eyes were riveted on each other.

The scene was so awfully bad, Amanda couldn’t have thought about it, couldn’t even bring herself to think over it further, chasing the scene away from her mind as soon as it appeared. Nevertheless, it always stayed at the back of her mind, remembering that night in the wood when he’d sacrificed himself for them, almost dying. Amanda had believed he had. Don’t you dare to do that to me ever—ever again!

No, she didn’t exaggerate when she told Jessie she wished the other woman would’ve never lived through what they had had to. It didn’t fix things between Rick and her or was making it any easier, but perhaps it was why she could never manage to stay mad at him long, always somehow ending up at his side, still wanting to be with him despite everything. There it was; Amanda confessed again.

She still wanted to be with him. She guessed she had better go and tell him. Yes. She was going to go to the master bedroom tonight and tell him she was still mad at him, but what she had told him the last time hadn’t changed. That she still wanted to be with him.

Rick took the compass and stuffed it inside his pocket. “The whole reason for this drill is to teach you how to navigate and find your path in the woods—” he repeated, his head lifting, wandering his gaze over the whole group.

They had taken out the first group today, fifteen people with the council members, the top lines of her list, including Reese sisters, their nanny, and Carl at their insistence. Jessie and Ron were the last moment add-ups. According to the emergency plan they had devised, they’d left the town through the sewers they’d emptied weeks ago, directly opening to the woods.

Rick had insisted there was going to be no packs, only their weapons, making the training as direst as possible, but somehow that point seemed to have skated over Steve’s head.

“Imagine you need to run to the woods in the dark—” Rick told him, returning to the man. “And you dropped your compass or lost it. Or someone took it—” His hand waved at his pocket to make his point, the corner of his mouth quirking a little. “How’re you gonna find your way?”

Steve Malkin was looking at him startled, but Rick wasn’t fooling. “Answer it! Daryl already told y’all! They used to teach this stuff at mid-school!”

“The pole star!” the man cried out. Amanda quickly shifted a look at their surroundings in reflex, checking out for the dead. “We keep it in front of us if we want to head north.”

Rick nodded. “In the daylight?”

“Sun itself—” came the quick answer. “We follow the sun, and position ourselves according to its orbit.” To demonstrate it, lifting his head, he found the sun and opened his arms to both sides. That wouldn’t work before making sure the sun’s movement, but the younger man looked like he had the gist of it.

Rick gave him another nod, too, looking mildly satisfied before he questioned further. “Else?”

“Um…the side of the trees—” he replied, a bit more hesitant. “The northern side holds moss more. Sun comes from the south, so the north side is moister without the direct light helping lichens grow more.”

“Yeah.” Rick looped another nod, “Let’s move out now. Steve, you’re leading.” He fell a step back behind them, just a step ahead in front of her. Daryl was coming with Sasha at the end of their cortege, the others fanned out between them, between Glenn and Heath at their flanks.

Six people for fifteen. It wasn’t bad numbers if things went awry. The plan was to follow up the whole route until the quarry, then there they were going to meet up with Abraham and Rosita and return to the town with vehicles before the evening. They had a track of more than ten miles ahead of them, so it was going to be a funny…experiment. Or so Amanda had hoped.

The first bemoaning came from Beatrice before they covered even a quarter of their track. “God, I’m thirsty—can we find water?”

Rick hadn’t even let them pack up water, so he jerked his head, still staring ahead in front of Steve as the man tried to lead them toward the north. He was keenly alert like most of them, expecting danger from every corner—or from behind every tree in their case. The rest of them wasn’t anything different, either. The whole group was tense even though they were trying to keep up appearances.

Carter’s face was so starkly grey, trying to keep up a placid, cool face, Amanda almost pitied the man. “We’re gonna arrive at the cabin in an hour,” Rick answered with the same flat voice. “We’ll find water then.”

“Are we going to boil it?” Clarice perked up next to Carl as they walked beside her, closest to her side in their lines. Amanda would like to have Ron and Jessie nearby, but Ron had wanted to stay at the back with Daryl.

Less than an hour, they found the cabin Rick mentioned, their first safe house of the two. They’d found it two days ago in a spot between Alexandria and Del Arno, their first failsafe closer to Alexandria. The other spot they put was in the north, closer to the quarry that Rick wanted to have to regroup in case that something happened and they needed to retreat.

The cabin was all like the refuges in the woods, a deserted wooden shelter, the wooden logs were darkened and moist after years of negligence in the wildness, the roof covered green with moss. It was still on its feet though, even though its window at the front side was broken.

It’d been the first thing they’d changed after they found it, Rick quickly going over with the broken window theory. It was a dichotomy too; they wouldn’t want it to get broken and collapse, but they also didn’t want it to draw attention as it had to stay hidden. So, they left the rest of the cabin like that in negligence, only repairing the window, closing it with wooden planks.

“This’s our rendezvous point—” Rick started, standing on the steps of the cabin before they fanned out to look for water. “If something happens and you need to leave the town, you’re gonna fall back here and hide until we come up. We can’t furnish it—” he continued, “But we made a failsafe and put a few guns, ammo, food, and emergency kit inside it.” A stir passed through the crowd that was gathered in front of the cabin’s small front yard as Rick talked, but Rick didn’t stop and went on to brand it on their bones.

“This has the utmost secrecy and would save your lives one day. You can’t mark it on a map or make any pointers in the woods that would give away its position. The woods are dangerous, not only because of walkers, too.”

“The Wolves?” Carter asked.

“Wolves, dogs, cats—” Rick answered simply. “Their names aren’t important. They’re just people who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you.”

“Not everyone we meet can’t be a bad person—” Beatrice refused, shaking her head at Rick’s usual pessimist worldview, her eyes momentarily cutting over to Glenn. “Aaron found you in the woods.”

Curious, Amanda followed it, realizing that she’d been doing that a lot during their trekking. A few times, Amanda had even seen the younger woman falling at Glenn’s side, trying to make conversation, but each time Glenn hushed her down, telling her they had to be quiet in the woods.

Amanda tossed a look at Clarice and Carl and saw them studying the older Reese too. Clarice had a slight frown over her brows as Rick turned aside away from the group, mumbling dismissively, “No, but just assume they are until it’s proven otherwise.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes, then winked a little at Glenn when their eyes caught each other for a split second, and a brief smile passed over the Korean’s face. Amanda’s eyebrow raised, then she heard a cutting dry voice raised from the backside.

“Shoot first, ask questions later—” Ron bristled. “I guess that’s our Sheriff’s style.”

The whole group stiffened as if an unseen icy polar wind breezed between them. Rick slowly turned toward Ron, giving the teenage boy a look. Amanda quickly stepped up beside him as Jessie clutched at her son’s arm.

“Rick—” Amanda whispered to him as Rick still regarded the boy blankly. Then without a word, he walked inside the cabin.

Amanda was about to follow him inside even though she didn’t know what to say. She could just stay with him, perhaps, but Ron came to her side before she could make up her mind. “You said you’re gonna show us where you took my father—” the angry teenage boy demanded hotly.

It wasn’t far away from here, and Amanda knew it was the best time as the others stopped to catch their breaths.

There was still a part of her that felt hesitant with the idea, but this was why she had wanted to bury Anderson, despite everything, and brought Jessie and Ron outside. She’d wanted to allow the teenager and Jessie to say their goodbyes before they would start to move on. Like how Amanda had wanted to do with Sarah, wanting to see her friend for the last time. To say goodbye, to apologize.

“Okay. Gimme a minute—” she agreed with a nod.

Rick was taking out the wooden plates they had loosened before to check the cache they had made when she walked into the cabin. “I’m gonna show Ron and Jessie where we buried Anderson—” she spoke slowly as Rick lifted his head at her from where he was crouched.

In the gloomy, spooky interiors, his eyes were staring at her with that keen open stare, not hauntingly clouds inside his eyes now. “I promised them this morning. It is how they accepted to come with us.”

Rick’s look was speculative as he gazed at her. Amanda couldn’t have explained it before they left the town. He’d only seen them in the group at the gate as they were estranged from each other in the morning, both searching the houses for the gun separately, then it was too late.

Their eyes stayed on each other for a little while, too, before Rick said, “Take Glenn or Daryl too. Don’t go alone.”

Amanda nodded. “Okay.”

His head turned, he started shuffling through the backpack, “Call in if something comes up—” He jerked his head toward the radio on her belt. “And be back in twenty. We need to leave before midday.”

Amanda gave another absent nod, but before she left, she suddenly bent down beside him and kissed his cheek. It was a quick kiss, a faint brush of her lips over his stubble, but Rick’s head snapped up at him, his face bearing this time a wonder as he looked at her startled.

“Be careful—” Amanda mumbled at him before she turned and ran out of the cabin. As she stepped outside, she could still feel his gaze on her.

But as she walked toward Ron and Jessie, she felt something lifted off her, then she truly understood why she had wanted to do this, wanting to give Ron and Jessie this. Because it was the only way she could start moving on, too.

# # #

Where she had kissed him over his stubble still tingled even after she left. Rick raised his hand over to his cheek, touching it briefly with his fingertips, before bowing his head with a resigned sigh. The walkers took him if he understood how her pretty head worked. Just yesterday they had another fight, and today she was giving him quick, coy goodbye kisses. If the teenage boy wasn’t shooting him daggers whenever he saw Rick, Rick even might go with them, but he was certain that it was out of the question.

Somehow Amanda had managed to take the mother and son out of their house. Rick had been surprised at first seeing them joining their group before he objected. He was glad that they had left the house, but coming to the woods with them? Rick didn’t know. It sounded a bad idea, he didn’t feel like they were ready for it, but now Rick understood. Amanda had promised the teenage boy to take him to his father’s grave. That was why why they were here.

Suddenly it made him profoundly glad that she’d managed to convince him not to leave the asshole at the roadside, going with Deanna’s grief-stricken words, but Rick wasn’t still sure if this was a good idea for this dry run. He didn’t want any problems, and he wasn’t sure how Ron would act after seeing his father’s grave. More than anything, Rick didn’t want to deal with it, either, if he had to be honest. He didn’t know how to deal with it, how to deal with the teenager.

Nevertheless, he let them go. If Amanda gave them a promise, Rick also knew she wasn’t going to rest until she saw it done. Amanda was always as good as him keeping her word.

Giving a final look at the cache they had prepared, the guns, ammo, the food cans, the emergency kit, and all, he closed it up and hid it under the floor. Leaving the cabin, his eyes scanned over the woods, picking up his people, trying to find out who had gone with Amanda.

When he spotted Glenn with Beatrice, Rick realized it was Daryl. Carol came to her side too, just as the moment a walker suddenly came out of the tree line from Carter’s direction. Glenn was the closest to it, aside from Carter, but raising his arm, Rick stopped the Korean man.

“Glenn-no.” He turned to Carter, staring at the man. “It’s your due.”

The former administrative officer gave him a nasty look but drew his gun. Rick stopped him again, walking toward them as the walker limped toward them faster than usual even without one arm missing. In the winter’s heart, the walkers slowed down, but before the frost arrived, the cold gave them a boost after the summer heat.

“No gun—” Rick warned, coming beside the tall bald man. “Don’t bring more of them.”

Nodding, Carter took out his hunting knife. It took three strokes before the man could take him down, stabbing the dead in the head. Drawn to the noises, another one rolled down from their left with drawls and snarls, and this time Rick took it down before anyone else. More started coming up.

Swallowing down a curse, Rick quickly signaled for a defensive circle, calling Carl beside him before they charged an attack. When it was finished, Rick looked at the put-down dead bodies, his gaze stuck on their foreheads. Beside them, the rest of them were looking at the same way. “A-are they a W?” Beatrice asked, sounding breathless, but for a chance, she wasn’t crying. Her hands were bloody; she had even killed one of them.

Rick couldn’t have cared less at the moment. He yanked off the handheld radio from his duty belt, his heartbeat hastening more than the fighting they had just done.

“Amanda, call in—” he barked out at the radio.

First, it was static, then he heard her voice from the other side. “Roger that. What’s up?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. What happened?” she asked, understanding something wasn’t right.

“Where are you?” Rick asked instead without answering.

“On our way back. What happened?”

“A dozen or so walkers found us—” Rick explained quickly. “They have Ws on their foreheads.”

“Understood—” came her quick reply. “We’ll be there in five. Sit tight.”

“Understood.” Rick mirrored the word back, before he repeated, too. “Be careful.”

“You, too.”

Just she had promised she was back in five minutes, and it took all his self-control not to take her in a bear hug, squeezing her in his arms against his chest tightly. His last five minutes had passed his heart sat down in his stomach, trying to hold himself back to call in her every minute.

If Rick could do it, he would have made her talk to him. She started jogging faster as soon as she saw them standing beside the walkers, her face flustered red. Her eyes darted down quickly when she stopped beside him, looking at the dead. “What happened?”

Instead of the walkers, Rick looked at her flustered cheeks, her strayed hair that had sprouted out from her half ponytail. There were a few drops of blood over at the end of her locks too, which made his stomach to a stone. “Did you come up with walkers, too?” Rick asked.

She quickly looped her head into a nod, her gaze still on the fallen bodies. “Yeah. Just a pair. Around here.”

“Ws?” Rick questioned.

She jerked her head in negative. “No—” she replied before she lifted her head at him. “None of them are branded.”

“Yeah—” Rick said, directing his look toward the walkers again. The Ws were made with blood, he suspected because it was a dark red, almost turned to dark, but Rick knew blood when he saw it.

“We’ve never seen any Ws this close to Alexandria—” Amanda remarked thoughtfully, her eyes turning down again toward the dead. Rick nodded with another low ‘yeah’. She had a point, a point that had made Rick even more anxious.

A couple of times, the teams had encountered walkers with Ws drawn or branded, but it had been always in the northern parts of the city, not this close to Alexandria. The implications were clear. The Wolves were approaching their doorsteps. His jaw squared, his fingers clutching the butt of his revolver on reflex.

“I’ve got an idea, but I don’t know—" Amanda continued after the brief silence, tilting her head down at the walkers. “About the marks and brands.”

Rick turned to her and waited for her to continue. “Um, well, I might be off, but something comes to me off. I’ve seen them in Del Arno with brands like tattoos or painted with coal, but none of them had blood tattoos.” She jerked her head toward the walkers again. “Perhaps this’s like a death sentence.”

Rick completed her line of thought. “They mark their victims before killing them.”

Amanda nodded. “Yeah.”

His teeth gritting, Rick thought how many walkers they’d seen with a W drawn with blood, limbs missing. Animals. They were animals. The bodies weren’t butchered this time as worse as Shirewilt Estate, but it was still animalistic, attacking people like rabid, feral dogs, marking their territory. This was what it was about the most like he’d told Amanda before, setting up their territory, inducing fear and terror for anyone else. There had to be a pattern for it, perhaps, but they yet had to find it.

His hand gripped his Colt Python tighter. “Let’s move out—” he ordered, pulling his head out of his thoughts. A bigger plan or not, they were out here, and there was nothing to do about that, but prepare themselves. Although the assholes didn’t know it yet, Rick had made them a promise.

If their paths ever crossed over with, Rick was going to make sure they regret it.

# # #

The sky had started darkening before they finally arrived at their final destination, feeling spent. Clarice almost wanted to cry upon seeing the vehicles at the gate, with the big-muscled man and his Latina girlfriend.

They should come up with another word because even saying she felt miserable didn’t sound enough. She was so tired she could feel every bone in her body aching. Her thirst had grown worse, her lips were parched and her tongue felt like dry paper. She smelled so bad she was disgusted with herself, her clothes heavy and caked with sweat, earth, mud, and blood. Beatrice had lost it after the second time they were attacked by the dead and had started crying, falling to the ground.

Carl’s father had barked at them a curt but a definite no when Clarice and Maria started running to her side to pull her up, which made Bee slowly rise to her feet on her own. Glenn had gone to her side after that, offering her a little sip of the water they had found after the cabin. It was the gentle soul of the man, Clarice knew, but regardless, she felt better because of it.

Then things became even worse. Thank God, they didn’t have another encounter with the dead with Ws or not. Those walkers had put Carl’s father in even a worse mood, and Clarice would understand if she wasn’t that miserable. Their mood didn’t rise either when Carter lost the way, forcing Carl’s rough hunter uncle and his father to put them back on the right way but also making them lose an hour. Hence, the darkening sky above them, arriving late in their rendezvous.

They must have been in the woods more than six hours now, and during the whole time, Ron hadn’t come to her side even once, staying behind at their line. If she wasn’t that miserable, Clarice would’ve tried to make up with him, at least talk to him.

It’d startled her when she understood Ron and Jessie were coming with them but understood the reason when they had left with Officer Shepherd after arriving at the cabin. Beatrice had tried to ignore them during the whole trip, and Clarice just wanted to go back home, take a shower, and be grateful for the things she had in Alexandria.

Clarice had never felt like this before. Felt grateful for the things she had before. She always had things all her life, and she had never thought of it before. Her eyes cut over to Carl, imagining how it must have been for them staying out in the woods like this for days when Clarice started feeling like a garbage bag after six hours.

They spread out in the grounds in front of the gates, some over the vehicles that the sergeant and Rosita had come with to pick them up, one of Aaron’s RV, the other the van to make their numbers fit. Carter was cleaning sweat from his face with the hem of his shirt, and Clarice would’ve thought of it gross if she hadn’t already done it. Clarice faintly could hear an ominous screeching echo drift toward them in the distance, buzzing inside her ears, making her tremble.

“What’s that?” Denise asked where she sat down on the broken asphalt beside Carter and Tobin before Clarice did while taking one of the water bottles that Rosita and Sergeant Ford had started giving them.

“The walkers in the bowel—” Carl answered simply as they walked toward the caravan and took water bottles, a tremble running over her.

“They make this?” Clarice sputtered as Beatrice exclaimed weakly beside them.

“Oh my god! I’m so tired I can’t even open a bottle!” In her hands, there was her bottle, standing a few feet away beside Glenn as she struggled with it.

Taking a sip from her bottle, Clarice gave her older sister a fleeting look, trying to decide if she was faking or not. Her own bottle had really opened very hard, too. Bee gave Glenn a quirky, apologetic look when the ever gentleman, Glenn took it from her and opened it for her.

Clarice shook her head a little, taking another seep from the bottle. Despite their current situation, with her filthy clothes and unkempt hair, Beatrice was still in her element, not giving up any opportunity to flirt with the cute Korean. She must’ve had a heart attack if she saw how she looked right now, but how much tired she might be, there was a sparkling glint in her eyes when she looked at Glenn.

The man still looked oblivious, though, and after seeing that glint, Clarice became worried too. She didn’t want another heartbreak for her older sister. With the last thought, she flicked a glance at Ron, but he wasn’t even looking at her. He was staring at the quarry that loomed ahead of them, his back turned to them.

“When are we going to go back, Officer Shepherd?” Beatrice asked, lifting her head to check the sky when the older woman came beside them to take a water bottle from the RV.

“Soon—” she answered coolly, looking unaffected by the six-hours-trip-from-hell, just like the others. Their clothes, hair, faces were as dirty as theirs, but they all looked so collected, Clarice felt a pang of jealousy too when they had almost floored.

“Rick wants you to see the quarry too before we leave—” she said, and Beatrice groaned with a couple of more people from the coward who heard her declaration. “Just a quick tour before we come back for the dry run.”

“Well, we saw the quarry, didn’t we?” Carter asked, but Officer Shepherd just fixated him a look without any retort.

“I know you’re tired—” Carl’s father came between them, standing in the middle of the circle they had made with his hunter friend. His face still had that firmness over it but also had a satisfied expression as if he was content with them. All the things considered, it looked like to Clarice they’d passed over a sort of rite of passage with him.

“I know it sounds unsettling—” He bobbed his head toward upside before continuing, the buzz inside her ears coming to her louder after his words. “But we need to do this before we return.”

Then they started moving again, further inside the quarry, the buzz of the dead became louder, snarls and drawls like scratches over a metal surface, but it wasn’t even the worst part. While they advanced further in the depths of the campsite, Clarice could see the remnants of the fighting from all around her.

The place was deserted much like Carl had told her before, but there were rotters on the ground, put down. The dead bodies. It was so disgusting, Clarice almost threw up, the scene and scents hitting her. When they were in the woods, it was at least a bit better, but this dead place. When they’d been attacked at Del Arno, she couldn’t have thought anything else other than running for her life, but seeing this place like this reminded her that all of these people had been living, breathing people once. They weren’t monsters in her nightmares.

A shudder passed through her, and she held Carl’s hand. As if he understood her anxiety, his fingers tightened over hers, giving her strength. The rest of them, the rookies, weren’t any different, either, faces settled between wonder and disgust. A couple of them threw up when they saw a body lay down at the corner of one of the trailers with his guts all open, his intestines poured out of him over the cemented ground.

They stopped until the group started pulling up, Clarice going to Beatrice’s side to help as she puked beside the container. Clarice opened her water bottle again and washed her face. “You okay, Bee?”

Wordlessly, Bee nodded with her bowed head, her eyes still on the gutted man. Glenn came to her side a second later, pulling her upright. “C’mon—” he told her softly. “It’s okay.”

Her eyes still fixated on the dead body, Beatrice let him move her away. With a sigh, Clarice wondered if that was why Carl’s father had insisted to bring them here in the deeper parts. To show them…this.

 He stopped a sort of crossroad. “There are four exits in the perimeters for each direction. Our business is at the northern gate. We’re gonna go there first.” He tilted his head toward behind them at the right. “That’s the exit that goes directly to Alexandria. It’s closed with two trucks, and we reinforced them with metal plates. It’s safe until we close it up completely with a wall.”

They started walking again in the direction he was leading them, but suddenly Jessie stopped, spinning around herself. “Ron!” she exclaimed out, still rotating checking around. “Where’s Ron?”

It took only a few seconds to understand that he was gone.

# # #

Amanda wanted to make a long string of curses, spilling out every curse word that was known to mankind as they looked for the lost teenager around the entrance. Why, why God’s rotting earth the problems never ended? What the hell was Ron thinking? Her eyes darted toward Jessie as the woman sat on her knees on the grounds, her face between her hands, a circle formed around her as she cried loudly.

“Jessie, stay calm. We’re gonna find him,” Amanda told the crying woman approaching toward her again before she tipped her head slightly at Rick at the other side.

Rick moved a few steps back away from them and quickly Amanda strode to him. “We need to spread out—” she quickly assessed. “He can’t be gone too long.”

They’d been checking the entrance area only less than ten minutes, and they had been in the quarry less than twenty minutes. He couldn’t go far away.

Rick nodded, but his face was having that look. “We have to be quick,” he replied. “The sky has already darkened. We can’t stay out long in the dark when we’ve got them.” With a jerk of his head, he motioned toward their company.

Amanda nodded in affirmative, couldn’t fight with his point. They had to get back. They were already late after Carter had lost the way, but this was even worse. If they couldn’t find Ron before the night truly fell in, they were in deep shit.

The guilt started resonating in her. She shouldn’t have let the boy come with them. She didn’t know what the hell he wanted to try or prove but seeing his father’s grave possibly didn’t come good to the teenager. Her eyes darted at Rick as he looked forlorn, checking the sky.

Amanda felt a sudden tremor, too, thinking about what they would do if they couldn’t find Ron before the night? Would Rick want to go back to the town then?

As soon as the thought appeared in her mind, Amanda shoved it away. She couldn’t think about it now. They were here. Rick was here, looking for the boy. He hadn’t even opened his mouth, didn’t even bring the fact that he hadn’t wanted them to come, didn’t tell her this was a bad idea.

Amanda shook her head mentally as Rick continued. “Abraham, you stay with them—” he told the former soldier. “We’re gonna check the bowel. Perhaps he went to check further inside the grounds without waiting for us.”

Why Ron would’ve wanted to do that made no sense, but the boy wasn’t around the entrance grounds. The open-air hall wasn’t big, so they had covered it quickly, and that left only two options now. Either Ron had gone deeper in the parts of the quarry or he went outside. “Daryl, you go check outside—” he told the tracker. “Perhaps you can catch a trail.”

Daryl had already checked for the teenager’s trial, but the fight had made their surroundings hard to read any track. Even Daryl could’ve picked up any trail that would lead them in any direction.

Rick gave him his radio, moving her closer. “We check inside the bowel.” In that way, three of them would have contact with each other as Amanda still had her handheld radio. “Contact us if something happens.”

Hurriedly, they fanned out toward the opposite directions, leaving Abraham behind with the others. “Which way first?” Amanda asked as they lost the sight of the entrance, going deeper in the grounds, that bloody terrifying song of the dead ricocheting in the air becoming louder and louder.

Why would have Ron wanted to do this? It made no sense.

They stopped when they arrived at another crossroad further inside the perimeters. Rick made a full turn around himself, assessing each direction to decide which way they would choose first. Amanda wanted to ask him what they were going to do if they couldn’t find him inside if the teenage boy had somehow managed to slip into the woods.

Perhaps to go back to his father’s grave? The thought stilled her as Rick gazed at the paths. Amanda turned to him. “Rick—what if he wanted to go back to his father’s grave?”

“I hope he did—” Rick replied, his voice stiff, his eyes still on the road. “If he did, Daryl is gonna find his trail outside.”

Amanda admitted it was good reasoning, and hoped for the same too, despite herself. She still didn’t understand, but she just wanted to find the boy and be back. Rick then picked up the southern path.

Something made the hair on her back stood as Rick started walking toward it. “Rick—” Amanda said lowly as she followed him. “Rick, that’s the southern exit,” she pointed out.

“Yeah—” Rick said with the same stiff voice. “I want to check it first.”

Why—came to the tip of her tongue, but she refused to ask it. No. No.

This wasn’t it. Ron wouldn’t do that. No. He couldn’t do that. They still lived together, shared the same walls.

“Rick—” she started but stopped suddenly coming in the sight of the trucks as Rick screamed before he started running toward the vehicles that blocked the southern exit.

“NOOOOOO!”

The motor sounds roared over the clamor that the dead were doing.

Ron turned toward them inside the truck, looking at them from the side window before the giant tires started rolling and the truck moved. Forward.

“ROOONNN!” Amanda screamed as Rick yelled another no, but it was too late. The last thing Amanda saw before the truck started rolling down over the cliff’s side dirt road, passing over on the walkers was the vacant look on the teenager’s face, embracing death.

Notes:

So, here we are, Ron is finally commencing the finale, freeing the herd.

I really don't know when I will start updating the final arc, as things have really gotten crazy in my world, unfortunately :( I'm moving out of my house to another by this weekend, so things will be crazy at home for a while, too. By this point, you must know how to motivate me, though, hehe. Don't forget to review, please. I really look forward to hear from you! Ciaociao.

Chapter 46: "Why did he do that?”

Summary:

While Amanda and Rick flee to the woods and race to the safety after the herd is free, Daryl makes an encounter trying to find them. Meanwhile, Carl waits for his father to turn back.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The first thing Abraham noticed was the increase of the damn unnerving clamor that was done by the biters; the deep snarling rumbles that echoed at the cliff range and trembling the earth beneath their feet. Abraham spun on his axis, raising the barrel of his rifle a bit higher as his eyes scanned the perimeters.

He wasn’t the only one who had noticed it as Rosita was checking their surroundings, too, the tip of her rifle at ready. “What’s that?” Carter asked, turning to look at him for an answer. A few feet away from them, the blonde woman, the mother of the fool boy who had slipped away from them was still crying.

“I don’t know—” Abraham muttered, his ears straining to hear the sounds more. He couldn’t be sure, but it sounded as if the walkers were…aroused. That increase that bounced around them sounded almost like excitement.

He lifted his head to the darkening sky, sniffing the air. When things started to feel like turning bad, Abraham always trusted his nose. “What’s happening?” Someone from the crowd asked, springing up to his feet. Abraham's eyes darted at his fellow townspeople. Even these clowns had started to feel it.

His radio cracked and his name was followed by a terrible loud clatter, “Abraham! Move out! Now!” For a split second, Abraham didn’t understand the order, but Rick continued hastily from the other side: “We lost the southern gate. I repeat we lost the gate. They’re coming toward you.”

His stupor broken with the last statement, Abraham jerked up his radio over to his mouth. “Repeat it?”

“Ron!” Sheriff hollered. “He drove the truck down from the cliff. The barricade is open. The herd is on the move. We can’t fall back to you. We’re going to the woods!”

When Rick was finished, the clamor had grown nearer. It wasn’t a joke. This was happening. Fuck it. This was fucking happening! “Understood—” Abraham shot back, enveloping his soldier-mood within in a millisecond. “We’re moving out now. We’ll contact you on the road.”

Abraham let go of the talk button and turned toward the others. Carl was the first one who had come to his side. “Where’s my dad?” he fired heatedly. “What happened?”

“The southern barricade is lost. Walkers are coming upon us!” Abraham spoke up instead of directly answering the teenager, his voice rising. “We gotta go! Now!” He turned to Rosita, jerking his head toward the townspeople. “Ros, round ‘em up.”

“What happened?” Carl asked again, not letting him go. “Where’s my father?”

“They’re going to the woods—” Abraham answered the boy this time. “We’ll find them on the road.” Twisting aside, he waved his hand over the crowd. “Move to the RV. Quick.”

He hoped the direct order would have enough to rouse them to action but they still gaped at him, not moving. “This is not a drill, people! MOVE.” Abraham hollered at the top of his voice, grabbing the sling of his rifle tighter. “NOW!”

“Ron!” Jessie Anderson suddenly showed up beside him, frantically screaming, “Where’s Ron?”

Abraham would like to have an answer for that, but they didn’t have time for this. For a second, he weighed his options, looking at the woman’s tears-stained ashen bland face, wondering how she could react if he told her what Rick had informed him. He drove the truck down from the cliff.

“He’s with Rick—” Abraham made his decision the next second, grabbing the woman’s arm to drag her toward their vehicle before he barked out— “Ros!”

“We’re coming!” Rosita cried back as Abraham stuffed Jessie Anderson inside the motor house.

# # #

Rick rained bullets on the walkers guarding Amanda as she rolled over a gentle slope on the narrow gravel road that was lined with grass and bushes with one side under the shadows of the cliffs and sprung to her feet the next second before she continued running. Rick let his rifle drop hanging at his side over his sling and followed her example, sprinting down on the path, inclining his upper torso down to keep his balance, opening his arms at both sides.

They had lost the quarry. It was as clear and loud as the dead behind them, the bottleneck of the cliffs opening a gateway after the truck fell as they had surmised, but this wasn’t how Rick had planned to do this, not even remotely close. There were so much anger in him, so many questions, but they had barely time. They had managed to dodge away from the first impact at the last minute, storming off on gravel road. The main road that led to the main intersection was swarming with the walkers now, cutting them off from the others and making the gravel side road their only option.

The woods. They needed to get out of this damn rotting dead trap! Staying in the woods after dark was asking for more trouble, but they didn’t have any other option, either. They needed to regroup. His eyes flicking over his shoulder, Rick checked their behind and saw a smaller herd of two dozen still on their trail, keeping up with their tracks. The main horde had stayed on the road crazed and roused, finally free, moving toward the south, moving toward Alexandria.

Anger sweeping in his insides, swallowing a curse, Rick hastened his pace. He had no idea how many of them would get loose through the open gateway, but they had no way to close it. They’d lost the quarry and thinking of this herd moving toward their town made his nerves tense worse.

The only thing that made him feel remotely better now was that Carl wasn’t with them, but had stayed with Abraham. They must be getting out of the quarry with the RV as Rick had instructed. It was still bad, but the dead couldn’t have reached them before they left the perimeters. Rick needed them away and safe, but first he needed to check with Daryl.

“Daryl! Come in!” he barked at it, pushing on the talk button after yanking the handheld radio from his duty belt, the hard shells of his boots still pounding the dirt road and undergrowth under his feet heavily as he ran madly without a pause.

Amanda didn’t halt, either, leaped over a tree root and bushes without hesitation, opening up the distance between them and the walkers. A glance over his shoulder made it certain that they were fighting a losing battle. Although they were faster, a lot faster than the scurrying, lurching aroused corpses behind them, they had started to come from each direction. They were going to need to fight their way out of it.

Rick still had a cartridge full inside the pocket of his jacket, and half-full magazine, and his Colt Python but gunfire would only make things worse for them. The wild animals would draw to the sounds together with the dead and it was already too dark. The safe house. They needed to get to that safe house! Now!

“What’s happenin’, man?” Daryl’s answer came in a rough drawl, and Rick had to keep the sneer out of his voice.

Their conscience had happened, that was it. He should have never let Amanda take the teenage boy. Never.

“It’s Ron!” he bit off, jumping over a thick tree log, and kicking off a walker that managed to catch them in the meantime. “He drove the truck off over the cliff.”

“He did what?” Daryl asked as Rick turned aside and stabbed the dead in the brain. A few feet away from him on his left, another one had caught Amanda. She pushed the head with her palm away from herself as the walker tried to bite her, its rotting hand trying to claw at her at the same time, and plunged her knife through the nape of its neck before she hurtled the dead body away from her.

“He opened the barricade—” Rick explained quickly, joining up to her, spinning around himself to find the right way for the safe house they had set up, more walkers coming up toward them. Amanda dealt with them, covering his ass as Rick talked and tried to pick the right path.

“The walkers are on the loose. We came out to the woods. We’ll try to get to the safe house—” Rick continued. “Can you find us there?”

“Yeah. Will find ya there—” Daryl drawled out from the other side over the screeches and snarls together with the sounds of the night. It was the spookiest sound Rick had ever heard all in his life.

Rick tucked the radio at his belt as the dead circled them, Amanda darting her eyes between them and Rick in that alert, wary way, her eyes pinched and ready for the action. Behind her, Rick spotted a deep hollow of an old oak tree. Grabbing her elbow, Rick hurled her inside and pulled the dead that she had just taken down over the entrance. He leaped over it and dived inside, covering the hollow’s mouth completely with the dead body just a second ago before the herd started to parade in front of them.

Silently, they drew further backward and rested their backs against the old tree’s trunk inside the empty, dry cavity, crouched side by side not making any noise. Rick didn’t know if they would pick their scent now, mixed with the dead that covered their tracks and scents of the forests, but they still waited breathlessly as they lurched and scuffled outside. When one of the dead lingered in front of the tree, Amanda’s eyes flicked to him, and Rick took her hand.

He knitted his fingers through hers and didn’t let it go. Not even when the snarls and drawls slowly lessened, started sounding like coming from a distance. Even then they still stayed like that, their hands entwined, listening carefully to the sounds, holding their breaths. Amanda let out a contained rough breath after a while, sneaking another side look at him.

Rick could see it in her face underneath the cool bravado that she had been trying to keep up, a stunned, vacant expression of sorts. Her eyes widened, her mouth agape, Amanda had been so stunned as the truck tumbled down over the cliff that Rick had to bodily turn her around and drag her to the gravel road for escape. When the dead started flooding them, she had recovered and started running, but Rick knew she was still taken aback by what the teenager had done.

How she could not be?

Even Rick had been shocked. He had felt something was amiss, smelled it in the air through the screeching snarls. He wished he’d been just paranoid, but his feet had still brought him toward the southern gate to check it. Had the teenager aimed for this? Wanted to kill them?

Kill him. Kill Amanda. Kill Alexandria?

The last thought brought him out of his reverie. His thumb faintly brushed over her hand before he slowly muttered to her. “We gotta go.”

Amanda nodded but didn’t move. “Amanda—” Rick started, but she cut him off, lifting her head to him. In the tiny space, they were so close to each other in the gloomily dark that Rick could still see her glistening eyes with unshed tears.

“H-he just drove the truck…” she mumbled in a whisper, looking at him. “Why did he do that?”

“Amanda—” Rick repeated in a gentle but firm whisper, but she didn’t listen to him. “I-I thought if he saw his father’s grave, it would’ve been better—” she spoke lowly, her voice sounding like coming faraway as if she was talking to herself. “Would have made a difference…”

With an inward curse, Rick sidled even closer and gently cupped her face. “Amanda, baby—” he told her. “It’s not your fault.”

She shook her head a little, his right hand on her cheek. “I know.” Rick wanted to kiss her, take her in his embrace, but she was only looking at him with that expression. A burst of screeching snarls and drawls shattered the frozen moment between them as they both reacted at the same time and reached to their knives on reflex, his hand jerking away from her face to his duty belt.

 Still and alert, they waited until another group of the walkers moved away from their spot. Amanda shook her head again with a loaded sigh. “They’re everywhere.”

It wasn’t an exaggeration. The walkers were on the loose, and soon the woods were going to be swarming with them. The very thing that Amanda had objected to, setting the walkers on the unaware people. Rick saw the irony in it; those unaware people had become them.

“We need to warn Alexandria—” Rick responded, his low rasping voice having heat with the thought. “They have to know what’s happened.”

“We’re out of the range. Not even in the safe house, we won’t be able to,” Amanda replied, her face losing that eerie, faraway expression, her face setting up with her stock-up determination as she pulled herself back together. “We can’t call in.”

“Abraham needs to go back—” Rick countered with a slight nod of his head. They wouldn’t wander in the woods in the dark like headless chickens scurrying around. “It isn’t safe here.” Not with their numbers. They could survive a night in the woods, retreating to the safe house, but together with all the others? No. Hell no.

Amanda gave him a nod back in agreement, and Rick reached to his radio. “Abraham, do you copy?”

# # #

“What are you waiting for?” Carter exclaimed when Abraham stopped RV on the roadside after they left the quarry. Even from a safe distance, Carl could hear the sounds the walkers made as they lurched out of the main entrance in a mass.

In a few minutes, everything had turned into a horror movie once more, but Carl didn’t care. Not when his father was out there. Carl didn’t want to think about the prison and the woods, how they had become separated, the night he had spent on the funeral house’s porch waiting for his father to return, but the memories were insistent.

No. Carl almost shook his head at himself. He wasn’t going to live a night like that again. Determined, he marched to Abraham in the RV’s narrow, crowded corridor, shuffling through the stunned people to reach the former sergeant. Their expressions as they watched the main entrance were so appalled, so terrified, whitened so stark that Carl would have felt sorry for them had it been another time. But there was none of it in him, too, when his father was out there.

“We gotta go!” someone shouted, frightened words clattering inside the crowded interiors. Clarice had come behind him as soon Carl took a step forward, leaving Beatrice and Glenn at the row of the backseat, and giving a side glance at their fellow townspeople, looking pissed.

Carl stopped behind the driver seat where Abraham sat in like a stone statue, surveying the tree lines with narrowed eyes and a hardened face. “My dad is there—” Carl remarked in a firm voice, jerking his head toward the woods. “We need to find them.”

Before Abraham opened his mouth, the answer came behind Carl in another agitated, frightened exclamation. “We need to go back to the town!” Carter cried out. “We can’t stay here.”

Glenn joined them, pushing through Clarice and Carter who was standing beside the seat at Clarice’s side now. “We’re not leaving them here—” Glenn remarked stiffly, supporting Carl.

Abraham slanted a look back at them. “Rick said to call him when we’re on the road—” he muttered, taking the walkie-talkie.

Carl wanted to make another objection. They shouldn’t waste time. With every minute they spent here, the risk of losing their trails climbed more. The sun setting, turning the sky above them grey and purple, it was already dark enough to miss the tracks, and they didn’t have Daryl with them. They needed to check in with Daryl and make two separate teams; one to bring the townspeople back to Alexandria, the rest staying to look for his father and Amanda with Daryl. Before Carl spoke though, the radio suddenly cracked.

“Abraham, do you copy?” they heard his father’s scratchy voice through the bad line. “Are you on the road?”

“Aye—” Abraham confirmed quickly. “We were about to call you.”

“We’re in hiding, waiting for a herd to pass by—” Carl almost launched behind the driver seat and grabbed the radio from Abraham after his father replied from the other side. A herd! They were surrounded by a herd! “When they do, we’re gonna move to the safe house.”

With his heart in his throat, Carl stopped himself. The safe house. Of course. They could regroup at the safe house. His father had prepared them for these occasions. Carl wasn’t sure if they would manage to find it in the dark, but Daryl certainly could.

Reaching over the driver's seat, Carl snitched the radio from Abraham. “Dad!” he cried out. “We’re coming, too!”

“No!” His father barked out the word over the static. “No. You stay on the road and go back to Alexandria.”

“NO!” Carl yelled back. No. He wasn’t going to stay back and leave him there! “No! I’m not gonna leave you again!”

“Carl—” his father spoke this time lowering his voice, with that tone whenever he wanted Carl to do something that Carl didn’t want to, his words having urgency and firmness at the same time. “Son, please. I need you to go back to the town.”

But Carl still couldn’t do it. “No. We meet with Daryl and come to look for you. Abraham and Rosita can take the others back to the town.”

“Daryl is already going to the safe house—” the rejection came fast. “He can’t turn back and risk it. The woods are dangerous, and it’s already too dark. The lower our numbers are, the safer we are. You need to go back.”

Carl stayed silent because he knew his father was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. Because then it would mean he needed to leave. “Carl—” he heard Amanda’s clear voice, “We’ll come back,” she told him. “I’m gonna bring him back to you. I promise.”

He swallowed over a lump in his throat, recalling how she had held her promise in the prison, found his father, and brought him to the funeral house. Just like his father, Amanda always held her promises.

“Okay—” Carl said then in a small voice, his words almost cracking as he added. “Be careful.”

“You too—” Amanda replied quickly and questioned further, “Is any of you hurt?”

“No. We’re fine. You?”

“We’re fine, too—“

Ron’s mother divided the crowd in the RV’s corridor forcefully and came to their side before they severed their connection. She grabbed the radio from Carl.

“Amanda, I’m Jessie—” she spoke agitated, words spilling out of her word in a hurry. “Is Ron okay?”

“Ron?” Amanda echoed back and Carl picked her hesitance. “He’s—Jessie, he’s—” she stopped and no word continued. Out of the corner of his eyes, Carl saw a flicker of grower passing over Abraham’s expression as the big man turned aside and tried to take back the radio from Jessie.

She didn’t let it. “My son?” she barked at the radio. “Where is he?!”

“Jessie, he’s not with us—” Amanda’s answer came, her tone now sounding more hesitant. “He—it was him who he drove the truck over the cliff.” There was a pause over the static before she added, “I’m sorry.”

The radio slipping from her hand hit the ground beside his feet with a loud clank before Jessie Anderson started screaming.

 # # #

Closing her eyes as Jessie screamed from the other side, Amanda let go of the connection, passing the radio back to Rick.

Wordlessly, Rick took it back. Amanda dipped her head and looked at the dry leaves and muddy earth inside the tree hollow. Rick twisted aside, calling out to her. “Amanda—”

She raised her hand to cut him off, her head still bowed, not looking at him. Reading her silent order, Rick stopped too. She knew what was going to come from him, telling her again it wasn’t her fault, and she didn’t fucking want to hear it now. She wasn’t even sure whose fault was it anymore. Hers, Pete Anderson’s, or Rick’s, or the teenage boy’s?

“We need to find a rotter—” she remarked a few seconds later, forcing her voice into coolness as she lifted her head. They needed to live through this night. She had promised to Carl. She needed at least to do that. “Smear it over us.”

Rick nodded. “Yeah.”

They needed protection when they were out open in the woods. Poking her head forward a little, she checked outside the hollow. From what she could see, it looked clean, but it was too dark, too damn dark.

She turned her look to Rick again. “Can you find the safe house?”

Amanda had come once, Rick had set it up with Daryl, so it was only him who knew the road. But they’d done it in the daylight. Her insides twisted, the reality of passing another night out in the woods again after the weeks they spent in Alexandria.

But like always, beggars couldn’t be choosers. They had to do it now. Survive tonight. “Yeah, I can.”

Amanda wondered if he was trying to soothe her, but his expression was as grim as hers, but then again, Amanda didn’t see anything with their situation to make it better for them. He must have seen her anxiety and uncertainty, too, because he fully turned to her the next second, his knees brushing over hers in their closed proximity. His eyes that were like a frosted glass were staring at her intently again.

“Amanda, I will find that safe house,” he spoke, promising her in that firm and intense timber, much as she’d done to Carl.

Staring back at him, Amanda nodded.

After the last look, Rick started slowly crawling out of the hollow, silently creeping over the half muddy and moist foliage. It had rained sometime yesterday so the cold was even worse with wet leaves and dirt over the undergrowth. When the evening came, the sky turned to a darker grey-and-purple and the temperature dropped further. If they didn’t get into the cover soon, they probably would get terrible flu or worse pneumonia.

Amanda followed him as silent as possible, slithering towards the dead bodies they had put down before they took refuge inside the tree hollow. Their surroundings seemed safer now, no damn snarls and drawls in the air, or screeches or snaps of the twigs although the other sounds of the nights filled around in their steads, leaves rustling in the wind, the ominous sounds of wild animals echoing in the distance.

When an owl hooted, Amanda almost jumped where they knelt in front of the rotter that was closest to them. She closed her eyes, swallowing down a curse. She fucking hated the woods!

Jerking his eyes up at her, Rick checked her as he stabbed his hunting knife in the rotting belly of the stilled corpse, but didn’t say anything. Amanda stayed silent too as Rick gutted the dead body.

This Amanda hadn’t missed. Her face cramped as the stench hit them while Rick opened up its insides. Amanda twisted her face, making a retching sound. She’d forgotten how it had been outside.

“Ya okay?” This time Rick asked.

Amanda bobbed her head dismissively, still looking at the other side. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

Rick took his gloves from his back pocket. “Do you have your gloves with you?”

She shook her head. Rick always carried a pair of them and plastic cuffs with him, but wearing her skinny jeans today instead of her uniform’s pants, Amanda had left hers in her backpack, which she’d also left in the quarry before going to look for Ron.

The thought of the boy made a flash of pain cut through her chest again, but Amanda forced it away. What was done, was done. There was no option now but to face the consequences, how dark and hard they might be.

Jessie’s screams swirled in her mind, the painful agony as she realized she had lost her son, too. Two women lost their children before her eyes as Amanda just watched it happen helplessly, not doing anything. She tried to expel the thought of her mind. It wasn’t her fault, she knew it. Ron had done it to avenge them, to kill Rick, even though it meant his own demise.

She suppressed a tremble, recalling the way the teenage boy looked at them before he drove off over the cliff. She-she’d just wanted to help him, and once again she’d fucked it up. She would’ve never brought them here. They hadn’t been ready. But she had, because she had wanted to move on, wanted to forget what had happened to Aiden and Pete Anderson, so she could be with Rick.

Anger found her for her selfishness and her hand jutted out to the rotted body, but Rick stopped her before she did. He was barely touching her jacket, careful not to make direct contact with her skin. They had done it before without gloves, but Rick didn’t seem like wanting to take the risk again. “No. I do it for you, too. Wait for me.”

She jerked her head in a terse nod, her jaw squaring. Rick gave her a look, reading it as pulling a fist of gore and rotting flesh from the dead body, and started smearing the puddle over her jacket. Amanda turned her head aside as he did, but this time she wasn’t sure why she did it, to run away from the stench or to run away from his intense stare.

“Amanda, you wouldn’t know what he might do--” Rick whispered to her after a second, his hand rubbing over her chest slowly.

Amanda snapped her head at him, her pent-up anger and guilt lashing out of her. “Yeah, I couldn’t know he would want to kill you because you put a bullet into his father’s head in front of him, Rick.”

Rick flinched, jerking his hand away, his voice a deep rasp as he asked, “So do you think it’s my fault again?”

“It’s the consequences of our actions—” she replied. “We caused this.”

His expression grew sterner. “No. No, we didn’t, Amanda. And you need to stop blaming us for everything because you’re afraid to be with me.”

She let out a bitter sound. “Do you think that?” She shook her head. “I took them out, Rick, so we could be together. I wanted them to move on, so I could move on. So we could be together. God. You’re an idiot!”

His face loosened as he tried to reach her again. “Amanda—”

She pulled back from his filthy hand, but not because she was afraid of the contamination. “Stop it—” she told him. “I don’t want to hear it.”

She stood up and started walking away, then stopped when she realized she didn’t know where to go. They needed to go south, and she had turned down, but the rest of the way, Rick was going to have to find out. So Amanda waited as he slowly raised to his feet, too, and came to her side, his face bearing that stony expression once more, closed off.

A pang of guilt passed through her after that, the way she had shut him out again as there was a part of her that knew that he was still right, like always. This wasn’t their fault. But it made no difference when they all had to suffer the consequences.

Her eyes darted around as her mind flitted over the loose walkers around them. They had set loose hundreds of them. She wondered what was going to be the consequences of that, trudging silently beside Rick as he led them to the safe house.

# # #

Daryl found their tracks a few minutes after he’d escaped from his first herd. It wasn’t a big one, only a dozen of them or so, but they’d come upon him so suddenly when he took a turn over shrubbery that was cutting his path, the first walker almost took a bite from his neck.

He ran on the line of the tracks, then climbed a tree and waited up there for almost an hour before the dead at the ground slowly started scattering, their attentions drawn elsewhere with the sounds of the night. Daryl leaped down in a crouch, and after surveying his surroundings to make sure he was alone, he took out his radio.

“Rick?” he called in in a whisper. “Rick…” he repeated.

“Daryl—” the answer came back in the same way; a low whisper. “Have you arrived?”

“Nah. Not yet—” he answered. “I got cornered by a herd. Ya?”

“The same. We’re on the move now.”

“Yeah. Saw yer tracks. I’m followin' ya.”

“All right. Be careful.”

He made a sound, turning off the sequences. He’d listened to the conversation between Carl and Rick before meeting with the herd, so he already knew the others were heading back to Alexandria. Daryl was glad, just like Rick had said, the lesser of them meant lesser problems.

More than anything Daryl was glad that Joan wasn’t with them, as once again, Daryl was doing something stupid, like tracking after two people in the woods after the dark. He could do a lot worse shit than this for Rick, for his brother, but regardless, Daryl was glad that Joan was safe in the town.

It was a…funny feeling, something different than he had ever felt before. A pesky, taunting voice sounding like Merle in his mind snickered something like a fool, that a woman like Joan would have never had anything other than a passing interest for a man like him before she moved on. Even before she had come to the garage with him that night, Daryl had been waiting for it to pass, determinately ignoring Joan’s obvious moves, but she had still stayed.

She had even told him to stay. I don’t want you to go.

No one had ever asked Daryl to stay before. Daryl had wanted to take her in his arms after she kissed him on the steps, asking her to stay with him, but something still held him back. Even though he hadn’t wanted to admit it then, Daryl knew it now. He’d been afraid. Afraid that it was just a game for her, afraid that she was just playing with him, worse she was trying what she had tried with her former boyfriend before, finding herself a loyal watchdog to protect her. It didn’t sound like the woman Daryl had become to know, the way she always insisted to learn more to protect herself, making bargains and deals, even telling him she wasn’t going to fuck him to compensate from the beginning, but the fear was still there regardless.

So Daryl couldn’t have kissed her and taken her to the garage as he’d wanted, but she still had stayed.

Even now, even when she spent all her nights with him, the fear was still in him. The prospect scared Daryl so much, he’d almost tried to finish things once, but couldn’t have. The thought of her not sharing his bed now sounded so dreadful, Daryl couldn’t have brought himself to do it. He wondered that was what people yammered about love.

The question turned in his mind as Daryl froze in his steps, staring ahead bewildered. Fuck it! Had he fallen in love?

Rick might confirm it, but Daryl had no idea how it had happened, that he’d fallen in love with a woman sometimes was so self-centered that you would swear that the world really turned around her. Daryl had never been a noble, kind soul, either, hell, sometimes he was even worse than Joan, but he never had her vanity.

Ya became her bitch, baby brother, Merle snickered as Daryl tried to concentrate on the tracks. A woman like her would never let men like us touch her unless she wants ya to become her bitch. She’s gonna break ya apart, ya damn fool. The stupid Dixon has ever lived.

Daryl eyed the path, crouching down to investigate the prints, bracing his crossbow at his knee. Merle’s snicker suddenly silenced when he saw there were more than two tracks in the path. His spine tensing, he quickly jerked his head up and checked his surroundings, straining his ears.

He heard nothing.

Bowing his head again, Daryl checked the prints again. In the dark, he was they were crossing over each other as it meant they were running away. He turned around himself on his knees, trying to pick other trails, and saw what he was looking for. Around them, the prints were circling with longer, dragged ones. Walkers.

Whoever they were, they had been running away from the walkers.

The logical answer was to leave them and find Rick and Amanda’s trail again, but something urged him, remembering how they had found the other safe house’s perimeters today. He had no idea who those people were, but if they were the Wolves, had been moving to the north after a raid to the south, and Daryl had picked their trails…

Well, leaving those animals’ fate to the walkers seemed like justice, but Daryl also wouldn’t mind being sure. Besides, the prints were also going to the south. Where the safe house was.

With a silent curse, Daryl followed the tracks.

He was on the prowl for half of an hour the most, when he heard a shifting sound behind him in the bushes between the trees, and spinning around himself, he checked the darkness.

He saw nothing. “I know you’re out there—” he whispered in a heated drawl, supporting his crossbow in defense on his shoulder. “Show yerself!”

“So you know the difference between a walker and a human—” A tall shadow stated calmly, coming out of the trees and taking a womanly shape. “Impressive.”

Daryl gazed at the woman as she stepped in the moonlight. He wasn’t wrong. She was a woman as tall as him with a slender but steady, toned figure. Her face in the moonlight had an intense expression, her dark blue eyes were stern under her dark bangs as she eyed Daryl and his still upheld crossbow that directed at her head.

She took a step closer to him, dark blue eyes still fixated on him as Daryl warned, “Stay back!”

Before darkness found him as something hit his neck from his back, the last thing Daryl saw was her laughing smirk.

# # #

Clarice held Carl’s hand as they stepped down from RV. Abraham and Glenn were already raining orders at the gate, calling for Denise, and barking at Heath to double up the watches.

Carl watched it with that expression on his face Clarice didn’t like, the expression that made her feel…scared. Without a word, pulling his hand, Carl started climbing the watch platform at the gate.

Without a word, Clarice followed him up, too. She knew they were going to spend the night here until dawn; until they came back.

Carl stood at the edge, his eyes ahead. The whole world was now under their feet in the dark, moonlight shinning little paths. Clarice had never seen it like this before. Today was a day of nightmares, but Beth had been right. There was still beauty in the world, they just had to look for it.

Clarice took Carl’s hand, turning to him. “They’re gonna come back.”

Her voice came out in a fierce whisper, and Clarice understood that she believed it. They were going to come back. Perhaps one day—even his father would come back. Clarice was going to believe that.

Slanting her a look before he turned his eyes back ahead, Carl nodded, but his fingers squeezed hers as they stood on the watch platform.

# # #

Carl stood on the watch platform, gazing ahead in the woods, waiting for his father to return, his fingers linked through Clarice’s.

She was right. They were going to come back.

Because his father always did. In the end, he always found them. Turning to Cler, Carl told his girlfriend the same too, recounting how he had found them before as they waited together.

# # #

When he opened his eyes, Daryl saw himself bounded in the middle of an opening over a small fire that was protected by a small round stone wall not to give away its light and circled with people. At the first sight, he counted more than twenty people.

His hands were tied with hard sturdy ropes behind his back and his crossbow was taken. “Are you one of them?” A woman asked, standing closer to him, and Daryl understood she was the one who had knocked him out. She had a smaller build than the other woman who seemed like their leader but had the same stern, stout expression, and strong attitude, her blue eyes as clear and tense as Rick’s.

“Look at his forehead, Tamiel—” A man in his late fifties came forward and tilted Daryl’s head upward with the tip of a hunting knife. A second later, Daryl understood the blade was his. Daryl narrowed his eyes. “He doesn’t have the tattoo.”

“Maybe he’s a recruit—“

“Nah. They don’t take people in—” the man objected. “You know it.”

“Perhaps he escaped—” Someone else from their line remarked, joining up to them as their leader just stood away still watching the scene a few feet away from them. There was a teenage girl around Carl’s age, with brown hair and light brown eyes. They both were wearing long coats, buttoned-up until their necks. The old man was wearing something like a poncho, a longer one than what Michonne and Daryl used to wear in the prison. And they were talking about the tattoos which brought Daryl to a sudden realization. The Wolves.

They thought he was one of those animals.

“I ain’t no Wolves—” he spat, tilting his head upper at the edge of his knife. A thin slice was cut, and a drop of his blood slid across his neck.

“But you know them?” the woman that was called Tamiel inquired. “Tonight we were attacked by biters. A damn big herd. Was that your doing?”

Was it?

Daryl reckoned the answer might be yes, not that he would admit. “They’re comin’ from the quarry—” he replied, jerking his head toward the east. “We found them a few weeks ago. Someone made a barricade and prisoned them but it was failing. One of the trucks they had used in the barricade fell when we were on the patrol. The walkers got loose.”

“So you caused this,” the monotone answer came and Daryl shrugged.

Tamiel’s expression hardened and Daryl almost thought she was going to hit him before the leader stepped out and walked over to them. They all moved back, giving her the way.

The woman took the blade that was still pointed at his throat from her man’s grip. “The Wolves—” she remarked, staring at him, playing with his knife. “You know them.”

It was a statement more than a question, but Daryl nodded. “Yeah. We’ve countered them.”

“Where?”

“Shirewilt Estate—” Daryl replied, leading the talk away from Alexandria. “Do ya know it? It’s up at the north. They attacked us. Butchered our people. We’ve been staying in the woods since then.”

Tamiel spitted on the ground beside him. “Bullshit,” she hissed. “You’re too clean to be wandering in the woods!”

Daryl cursed, swearing at himself that he had stopped being an asshole and started taking regular showers because he didn’t want to scare away Joan. She usually smelled so good that he hadn’t wanted to stay like a skunk beside her.

The leader simply gazed at him when Daryl stayed silent. “They attacked us too. Took our home. Took our supplies, took our food. Butchered the rest. Whatever they can’t take, they burn down.” She paused. “They said there are only two kinds of people in the world now. The ones who take, and the ones who’re getting took.” 

Daryl’s jaw clenched at the words. “My name is Anne—” she said, looking down at him. “And this is Brion, and that’s Enid.” She pointed to the teenage girl who still stood back with the others before questioning, “Your name?”

“Daryl.”

Anne nodded. “You brought those walkers on us, Daryl,” she remarked coolly, holding his knife at his throat again. “We lost people.” The tip of his blade made another nick at his skin, deeper than the last time as the woman looked down at Daryl. “Do you think it’s true? Are there only two kinds of people in the world now?”

# # #

Something poked at him at his side, making all his body ache, his every nerve on fire. Ron blinked in the dark, but couldn’t still open his eyes.

He still didn’t even know what had happened, how he’d survived the fall. He’d jumped down from the truck at the last moment before it hit the bottom of the cliff, falling upon the dead below, and pulled himself off at the cliff’s ridge on a narrow dirt path that opened up somehow in the woods.

A burst of laughter had ripped off out of him when he realized the way was already open at the cliff’s side, but unable for the walkers to reach. There were still no qualms in him for what he had done. Even Ron hadn’t moved the truck, the walkers might still have found their ways out.

Ron simply wanted to kill him, much like how he’d killed his father. He’d tried to find the gun his mother had hidden before, wanted to do it even in Alexandra, but couldn’t find it. When they were out, when he was looking at the man from afar, he was waiting for an opportunity to present itself, but when he saw his father’s grave, Ron realized something else.

He was going to kill Rick Grimes. Nothing would stop it, but it wasn’t enough. He also wanted to ruin everything he held dear. Rick Grimes had ruined their life, so Ron was going to ruin his life in return. Everything that was precious to him, starting with Alexandria.

No revenge would have been taken without a sacrifice first, and if this was what he had to pay for it, Ron was willing to forsake his life to take down Rick Grimes and all his family. Everything they touched had turned to ruin. They stole everything from him. Clarice, his mother, and his dad. Everything. Ron was just returning the favor now.

Something poked at him again at his side where he was laying down, quasi passed out, and Ron understood it was the tip of a boot. “Look what we’ve found—” A leering voice screeched over him. “You, little shit.”

Ron tried to open his eyes again, gulping down, words registration to him. He wasn’t alone. He was found, but it wasn’t them, even though they might have now called him ‘little shit’ after he’d done.

“Look at him!” another voice hooted then barked out a burst of laughter as Ron tried to open his eyes once more.  His head was hurting. He had hit his head on the steering wheel during the fall, and he brought his hand toward the bulge in his head. He hadn’t realized it while walking, his injuries still hot and adrenaline rushing in his veins.

“Oh boy, Owen, c’here—” the leery voice continued.  You’re gonna love this.”

“What?”

“Del Arno people. We’ve found one of ‘em.”

His body jolted, Ron stared at the man who was looking down at him as he sprawled out on the ground. A second later, his gaze moved up, toward their face, and his eyes widened, Ron this time stared at the Ws on their foreheads.

 

Notes:

Oh My God! I finally made Anne's appearance, yay! I was thinking about who I would bring in the story, debating if I should create another group with original characters as I didn't want to introduce Dwight and Honey yet, so while I was thinking, I got this idea, why not bring Anne and her people to Alexandria before they find the Junkyard... A word of notice, she is not Jadis yet, still refers to herself as Anne as I'm making an adaptation of her, building her character my own as I did with Deanna, Denise, and Aiden; so this isn't the same Anne in the show. Her name and Enid were actually dropped earlier in the story when Amanda found Liam in Del Arno. I wonder if anyone picked it up before ;) And yeah, Enid IS coming too. Bad for Clarice, hehe.

Basically, I got inspired by this plotline after I watched Netflix's 'I Care A Lot' so, in my mind, my Anne is not portrayed by the actress who plays Jadis, but Rosamund Pike in her mid-thirties, slightly older than Amanda. (I also realized recently I always picture Joan as Jennifer Connelly in the 2010s so in my mind Joan is like her too, with black eyes instead of blue)
Speaking of Joan, more will come for her relationship with Daryl too as I can finally focus on them a bit more.
'There're only two kinds of people in the world now. The those who take and the those who are getting took' is a quote directly from the movie I mentioned. This is directly tied to the plot of the finale and the third book, so I won't spoil much here, but more is coming up.

I hope you're still reading and enjoying the story, and will stay with me until the end. Cheers.

Chapter 47: “These are our new recruits, councilman.”

Summary:

When Rick and Amanda meet the people that captured Daryl, they will need to make a decision. Waiting for Daryl to return, Joan let out a secret to Carol. In the meantime, after Ron was found by the Wolves, it's gonna open up a whole new can of worms that none of the Alexandrians is aware of yet.

Notes:

I wanted to add the second part of the last chapter before I return to writing again. Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When they arrived at the cabin closer to the quarry, they smelled as bad as the walkers. The cabin was as cold as outside, but Amanda peeled off her smelly soiled jacket the moment she stepped inside as if she couldn’t stay with the retching thing anymore before she directly headed to the cache in the other room. Rick reached his radio.

“Daryl, come in—” he called in, but like the last time he did, there was no answer from the other side. His jaw squaring, Rick left the radio on the floor, taking off his jacket, too.

Inside the bedroom, Rick saw her trembling with her light sweater and shirt underneath and felt glad that they had also stashed blankets and spare clothes under the floor. Her eyes lifted at his when Rick crouched at the other side, helping her to remove the floorboards. They were old, full of little holes that woodworms had dug their ways inside over the years, stained and moist. They cracked when they worked on it and the sound screeched louder in deep silence.

“No answer?” Amanda questioned, putting the first loosened floor beside her.

Rick gave her a jerky nod. “He might’ve lost his radio—” he reasoned. They couldn’t reach Daryl again after he confirmed he was going to follow their tracks, although Rick didn’t want to speculate.

Amanda though shook her head. “He knew the woods better than us,” she replied. “He should’ve been already here.”

Rick knew she was right; the woods had grown worse. They had come up with the walkers constantly, each time hiding in some ditch or inside a tree to dodge them, hoping their scent had missed with the dead well enough. But if they had made it, Daryl would have also done it. But he still hadn’t come, so it meant. With a terse nod, Rick stood up and walked back to the living room.

“I’m gonna check around—” he announced, putting on his filthy jacket back. If his brother was out there, Rick had to find him before something bad happened.

In a heartbeat, Amanda was on him, lunging out of the bedroom. “No!” she cried out. “You’re not going out alone!”

“Amanda—” he started, but she cut him off again.

“Rick, we’ve already fought a lot today. You’re not going out alone.” Her eyes were lit with that determined, decisive glint, her jaw squared as she stared at him directly in the eye, daring him to oppose her.

They had barely talked during the trip to the cabin after their last fight, and it wasn’t only because they had had to keep silent. But here again, she was, looking at him like she might knock him out again to stop him if she needed to. I took them out, Rick, so we could be together. I wanted them to move on, so I could move on.

 The words meant the world to him, the angry but honest way she had confessed that she wanted them to be together although it followed her calling him an idiot, lashing out her anger. Rick saw clearly that her conflict was still there, but her little kiss before they had gone to find that bastard’s grave made more sense now. And she still didn’t want him out of her sight.

Bobbing his head, Rick didn’t oppose. Not when she looked at him like this. She had told Rick couldn’t go out alone, but in backwards, it also meant not to leave her alone. “All right, we make a quick patrol, check around, and try to reach him again.”

Amanda strode quickly over to her jacket, but before they left the cabin, the radio finally cracked. “Rick?” He heard Daryl’s rough drawl from the other side, letting a silent breath of relief.

Amanda was less subtle in her reaction; she exhaled loudly, running to his side as Rick pressed on the talk button. “Daryl? Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m okay—” came the hesitant answer after a brief moment of silence. It irked Rick even worse. He shot a glance at Amanda who had stopped beside him and was gazing at the radio warily now. She flicked a look at him too, mouthing silently a single word.

“Daryl, ID challenge—” Rick repeated it aloud quickly. “Respond.”

“Sapphire.”

They both let out a silent hiss. It was what Amanda had chosen for distress. Their suspicions had been right. Something had happened. “Are you with a company?” Rick quickly questioned.

“Yes. They want to come with us.”

“What?” Rick all barked at the radio.

“We’re close to the safe house,” Daryl answered instead, continuing his tale. “They wanted to capture you, but I convinced their leader to call in first. She says she doesn’t want a fight.” He paused. “But she’s not shy from it if you play hardball.”

Exchanging another look with Amanda, Rick brought the radio over to his mouth again before he spoke directly to the leader. “Release him, then we talk.”

There was another pause, and from the line, they only heard two words, this time uttered in a low, clipped feminine voice, “Rick Grimes.”

“Release him—” Rick repeated, as they exchanged another look, Amanda’s eyebrows pulling in.

“Do we have an agreement?” she asked evenly, not even bothering to acknowledge his request. “Say yes if you do.”

“No agreement before I get Daryl back.”

“Rick—” Daryl spoke this time. “They’ve got the numbers. You’re alone and surrounded.”

Their eyes found each other again as what Daryl had managed became clear. The genius of a man. He’d managed to keep Amanda’s presence secret, making his captors think Rick was alone.

“Say yes, Rick Grimes—” the woman repeated, and this time, Rick obliged.

“Yes.”

They quickly moved to the other room, Amanda checking the corners for a vantage point as Rick launched at the cache they had dug. Shuffling through it, he found the gas bomb they had stashed. He quickly handed it to her as she still looked for a space to hide, but Rick shook his head, heading her to the loosened floorboards. It hid a tiny space underneath, but Amanda was also a tiny woman who was very elastic, thanks to her yoga exercises.

Today was their day to hide inside the cavities. “There—” he said, “They might check the room after they come inside.”

With a quick affirmative nod, Amanda slid herself inside, sitting on her knees as Rick continued his instructions, “After we’re clean, come out and watch for my signal—” He took the floorboards to close up the cavity, wondering how long she might stay under there, working on her breaths. Rick tilted his head, pointing to her and the tiny space, “How long can you stay there?” he asked, sounding as worried as he was, too, but Amanda just jerked her head.

“As long as I need to.”

Rick gave her a nod, leaning down to place the floorboards back to their place as Amanda started lying down, pulling herself into a ball. “When I raise my hand, throw it off and run to the door—” Rick spoke further and leaned further to give her a peck before he covered it completely, a part of his chest feeling strung that he had to make her do this, but Amanda stopped him.

She hauled him down to herself instead, grabbing his forearm and raising her torso, and gave him a quick, but passionate kiss, holding his head with her other hand. “Be careful,” she whispered heatedly before she let him go and drew back inside the narrow space.

With a last glance at each other, Rick covered her, letting out a silent breath. He walked out of the room and stopped in the middle of the living space, his back facing the bedroom door, and waited for them to come in.

Before the minute ended, they did. A tall old man with a balding head and a woman in her forties opened the door first, checking inside. Rick stood motionless, his right hand on his holster. The man and the woman both were holding a long spear, a sharp metal scrap wielded on the end of the staff. It looked homemade, and Rick didn’t see any other weapons.

 “Rick Grimes—” the woman spoke, and Rick recognized she wasn’t the woman who he had talked to on the radio.

“Where’s Daryl?”

“He’s safe. We wanted to check it first.”

Rick nodded. “I’m alone.”

The man circled the cabin, moving toward the bedroom. He nudged the door open and slowly pushed it back and poked his head before he walked inside.

Rick held his breath, waiting for the man to return. A second later, he came back, which made Rick breathe again silently. The man went to the window then and opening it he made a hooting sound. After the signal was made, the others slowly started coming.

Rick’s lip thinned, seeing perhaps thirty people crossing the doorway, all of them holding such kind of weapons like spears, machetes, axes. The last she came, holding Daryl’s arm. Even before the introductions were made, Rick knew she was the woman on the radio.

Tall and stout, the woman also had an expression as if Rick had made her eat shit. His expression grew tighter too, looking at the woman as she approached him. “So you’re the one who set the dead on us—” she remarked stiffly as her people circled them, still holding Daryl’s arm.

“They broke free—” Rick replied flatly, not moving a limb aside a flicker of look to Daryl, also not telling the woman how the walkers had broken free. He didn’t know how much Daryl had told them, but he doubted he had talked about Ron and the foolish boy had done. “It wasn’t us.”

“Daryl told us it was your plan—” the woman countered back, revealing to him what Daryl had told them, the reason why they had come to the quarry. “Your plan, your fault. You owe us now.”

“I owe you nothing—” Rick spat, sidling her closer. The circle around them stirred but she didn’t move a limb either at his threatening gesture. “We didn’t put those walkers there.”

“But you made them leave. We lost people tonight.”

“It wasn’t me!” Rick shot back heatedly, taking another step in. He was so fucking tired of everyone thinking everything was his fault, dammit!

“You still owe me.”

“I owe you nothing.”

The woman caught his blazing eyes as Rick was glowering at her and shook her head. Rick stood still, his spine tense and straight, ready for the action, but there was a part of him that wondered if he was going to cross that line too tonight. Kill a woman. Despite everything, there was also a part of him that felt disturbed with the idea, killing a woman. He knew he shouldn’t think like that, women were as dangerous as men these days, perhaps even more so with the likes of Carol who used their weaknesses as their cover, weapon, and protection. The woman in front of him didn’t look like she had that kind of uncanny power, but Rick still felt she was as dangerous as Carol and Amanda.

The woman gave him a look, almost looking resigned. “That’s the most unfortunate. I thought we could come to an understanding.”

“We can—” Amanda’s clear voice suddenly echoed in the room as she walked out of the bedroom. Rick closed his eyes briefly, swallowing down a curse as the eyes in the room snapped at her.

“I think someone has lied to us, Anne—” the old man drawled out, his eyes fixated on Amanda before shooting a look at Daryl.

Amanda stood stiff in the doorway, looking at them sternly but openly. The tall woman, Anne as the old man called her, looked her back but didn’t make a comment. “What do you want?” Amanda asked, holding Anne’s gaze as Rick wanted to ask her what the hell she was doing.

“As Daryl said—” the man answered. “We want to come with you to your home.”

“What happened to yours?” Amanda asked in return, her eyes checking their dirty long coats. By the looks of their clothes, dirty, worn, smelly bloodied tatters, Rick had surmised they had been out for a while, a long while, so a part of him had understood the reason for the inquiry, but bringing in new people… “They were attacked by the Wolves,” Daryl answered Amanda’s question when they didn’t. “They thought me one of them when they caught me first.”

Amanda’s eyes grew wider for a second and Rick saw something had happened, some realization hit her when her usually light green eyes turned a mossier darker green. “You’re Anne—” she remarked, directly looking at the woman, her eyebrows pinching before she tipped her head at a teenage girl in the circle around them. “And she’s Enid, right?”

This time all the looks truly turned to her, even Rick’s, because by the looks of the others, Rick had understood Amanda had been correct, that the girl’s name was Enid. How the hell Amanda had learned it, Rick had no idea but wasn’t surprised when the first woman who had come to the cabin to check it voiced it aloud, “How?” she asked. “How did you know?”

“I knew Liam. I found him in the woods weeks ago—” Amanda answered evenly, tilting her neck, sounding almost arrogant in defiance, then Rick understood too. The man she had found in Del Arno.

The old man let out a whistling sound. “We’d lost him after the attack.”

Amanda nodded but didn’t say anything. The tall woman snuck a glance at Rick before she turned to Amanda. “Where’s Liam?”

“He’s dead—” Amanda replied placidly. “The Wolves killed him.”

The woman’s expression grew more haggard, the tension at the edge of her mouth grew tighter but didn’t reply.

They all stayed silent then, looking at each other. Rick felt they were caught in another status quo, stuck with these people, even though they were, in essence, their prisoners. But it didn’t work like that, they couldn’t take Alexandria like this, even them captured, and there was also an expression on the woman’s face that suggested that she had somehow become aware of it. But they couldn’t send them away, either; Rick had gathered that, too, not when the woods were swarming not only with the Wolves but also with the herd now, because although Amanda hadn’t opened her mouth yet, Rick still knew what was passing in her mind as she looked at them.

Amanda had walked out of the other room because she wanted them to come. She thought this was their responsibility. The thing with that, even if Rick would agree with it, accept to bring in people they didn’t know anything about, the town wasn’t ready for it. Everything was already in an uproar, and the last thing they needed was another large group of people, people that had already taken captive two of them, already had tried to sell them out. That man had tried to screw up Amanda. Rick hadn’t forgotten it yet. Rick had spent enough time expecting knives in his back in the dark.

Yet the expression over Amanda's face was still stern, telling Rick that she’d already made up her mind. Her eyes moved to him then, before she told him, “Ask them the questions, Rick.”

They looked at each other for a few seconds, everyone watching them now. His jaw clenched, but turning to Anne, Rick asked; “How many walkers have you killed?”

One of her eyebrows raised toward her bangs, surprised with the question. “How many?” Rick repeated, getting more irritated and wanting to be done with it now. He still hadn’t made up his mind yet, he told himself, he was just asking them the questions. To see their answers. To know what kind of people they were.

“A lot—” came the answer with an indifferent shrug.

“How many people have you killed?”

Her lips turned down with a scowl as Anne looked at him. “Not as many as I would like.”

That was a sentiment that Rick would agree, thinking of the wolves in the woods, thinking all the sonsofbitches he would have liked to kill, but couldn’t. “Why?”

Once again, the woman’s answer was simple and direct as she still looked at him; “Because they tried to take what was mine.”

 Rick held her gaze. “I don’t like it either when people try to do that—” he replied; his words almost a warning. He hoped she had understood, and something told him she did when the only answer he received was a knowing smirk as she walked to him closer with a slow swagger, her eyes still on him, too.

“Yes?”

Rick gave her back a simple curt nod, and said, “Yes.”

# # #

Something with the look that the tall woman gave Rick made Amanda’s lips flatten. She wasn’t blind that she couldn’t see that assessing, direct open look. Her dark blue eyes regarded Rick from head to toe, her lips holding that smirk and Amanda almost grabbed Rick’s hand, making it clear that Amanda also didn’t like when people tried to take what was hers.

Hers. The word resonated inside her for a split second, recalling the jealousy she had felt when she thought Rick was interested in Beatrice. It pulsed at the edge of her awareness although she knew the woman was most probably trying to play with him now, and dammit, this was the worst moment to get jealous! The worst moment.

She had literally invited almost thirty people, looking very dubious people in Alexandria. It was a risky move, but Amanda couldn’t see any other way out. Like they had said, they had the numbers, and they were also right. They’d brought the rotters upon them. Denying them was asking for more trouble, too; Amanda didn’t want more trouble, no. Jessie’s heavy screams skated over her mind for a second, cutting through her thoughts like a hot blade and Amanda shut them down. She couldn’t think of that now, not right now. They needed to get back to the town first. She needed to get Rick back to his kids. She had promised Carl.

“We pass the night here, then leave before dawn—” Rick said as they started to settle in the cabin after the tense…introductions. “You’ve got everything with you?”

The old man nodded. “Yeah. We packed up light.” He paused, turning to Amanda. “I’m Brion.”

“Amanda—” she replied simply, trying to keep her voice civil. She reminded herself those people hadn’t harmed Daryl, hadn’t set Rick into a trap to take him but followed Daryl’s advice. It had to mean something. Amanda wasn’t just sure if Rick would agree. Hell, she wasn’t even sure herself if she was just being…optimistic. I’m optimistic, not stupid, Deanna’s words came to her, too, perhaps they should just do that. Let Deanna have the final decision. It was her call anyways. Deanna would know what to do.

Rick slithered closer to the window, stationing himself strategically between them and the window to check outside while he kept an eye inside too. He propped his hip against the wall beside the window’s sill, his eyes cutting over to Anne as the woman turned to Amanda. “How did you meet with Liam?” she inquired.

Amanda tried to gauge how much to tell her without making their situation tenser than it was already, not wanting to spook Rick further into defense, either. It was a miracle itself he had said yes until this far, accepting staying dormant.

“We met him in the woods when we were on a patrol—” Amanda answered, giving her the basics. “He mentioned his people needing help. Anne and Enid. When I heard ‘Anne’ I thought you might be his people.”

The woman’s eyes were wary and speculative as she looked at Amanda. “You said the Wolves killed him—” she stated Amanda’s earlier declaration and questioned further, “How?”

Her lips thinned as Amanda remembered Del Arno, and Nicholas, and his stump. She returned the woman’s assessing gaze on her with a glower. “He set us up, tried to sell us to the Wolves for his ticket inside.”

Anne’s face soured, letting out a low scoff. “He should’ve known those animals don’t take recruits.”

“Do you know their base?” Daryl asked, coming beside Rick at the window, watching the others hawkish.

Anne shook her head. “No. They don’t stay at anywhere long—” she said. “They’re like nomads. Take whatever they can and burn down the rest.”

“It’s reasonable with their lifestyle—” Amanda commented, another frost entering into her voice again, knowing that their estimations about those animals had been correct. “They move to other places, moving on when they burn out the resources.”

Anne nodded curtly. The silence grew between them, everyone tensed and alert. No one was going to sleep tonight. “Where’s your community?” Brion asked.

“At south—” Rick answered vaguely. Amanda shared his reluctance. They were taking them in, but they still were going to be on probation time, needed to prove themselves as they had done. Perhaps they needed to make it sure for them because Amanda also knew when Carter learned what they had done tonight, they were going to have a field day again.

The thought almost broke a smile over her lips as Amanda realized Rick and the man were going to have their first common point. Teaming up against the outsiders. Their group was no more going to be the others in the town. Anne and her people were going to fill the shoe now.

“We don’t usually do it like this—” Amanda remarked then, looking at them as Daryl and Rick shot her a look. “We’ve got a procedure how to bring in new people into our home.” The word didn’t sound as weird as before, because it was also true, better or worse, Alexandria had become their home.

“We understand—” Anne said, turning away from her and sounding almost disinterested.

Amanda frowned. “You’re gonna be interviewed and our leader is gonna decide. You’ll be on probation time until then.”

The woman’s eyes darted at Rick, looking surprised for the first time since she had walked into the cabin. “You’re not the leader?”

Rick merely shook his head. Anne looked even more intrigued then, that smiling little smirk pulling out her lips again, and Amanda felt the same jealously firing in her veins again. God! That was how she had looked at Rick when Rick had told her he wasn’t the leader when they had met in the woods?

“We also have a council—” Rick told her as Amanda tried to keep herself in check for not doing stuff like…go to Rick and hold his hand. “It runs the place right now.” He paused sending her a pointed look. “You and your people are gonna have to make an effort, Anne.”

His words sounded taunting and Amanda almost smiled, remembering their own time showing effort, trying to make a good impression as Anne looked at him with narrowed eyes. A small broke over her lips and her eyes flicking toward him, she caught him doing the same. Rick’s eyes were holding a smirk inside too, and the corner of his lips twitched as he looked at Amanda, ignoring the woman, then his eyes switched outside—then his expression froze, turning to stone.

He jerked up his hand into the air, a clear sign that reacted Daryl, raising his eyebrow. Rick tossed a look at Anne. “There are people out there—” he rasped out. “Are they yours?”

Anne quickly shook her head as they both ran to the window. “I didn’t leave anyone outside—” Anne replied as Amanda caught the shifting movement through the bushes in the dark. It was hard to see in the pitch black, but it looked as if people were moving around the house.

“They’re circling us!” Rick suddenly bellowed, grabbing her elbow and pushing her just before a Molotov cocktail came through the window, shattering the glass.

Rick threw himself on her, tumbling them on the floor and covering her with his body as the inflamed bottle cracked at the wooden wall and took flames. A scream ripped off in the cabin as another bottle flew over them, Amanda following it as it landed on one of Anne’s people.

“We’re under attack!” Rick shouted above her just before he sprung up to his feet as Amanda rolled over in a crouch and stood up as well. They ran back to the door and started shooting after taking cover.

No shots came back, but inside the cabin started filling with smoke and gas from the Molotov cocktail and the fire it had started. “It must be the Wolves!” she screamed. “They’re trying to lure us out.”

They still mustn’t have guns as there was still no returned fire, but their strategy worked damn well because she started coughing the next second, hot smoke from the fires filling her lungs, burning her nostrils.

Her watery eyes started pricking too, and she knew in a couple of minutes they were going to be in hell. “We need to get out—” she told Rick over a fit of coughs, clutching his forearm. “We can’t stay here.”

Rick nodded, coughing, holding his hand with his revolver over his mouth as he was bent down.

Amanda had no idea how those bastards had found them or if they were even them. Perhaps they had trailed Anne and her people, or it was just a coincidence, or Anne had set them up as Liam had done, but it didn’t matter as of the moment. They still needed to get out.

“Rick—!” Daryl exclaimed in the greyness.

“Over here!” Rick yelled back through another set of coughs.

The crowd had already started doing what they were trying to do, Amanda noticed when the door got open, and people started getting out. She waited for a second to hear the shots but still heard nothing.

“There are no shots!” she shouted Rick as they ran to the door.

“Be careful—” he told her back, hovering over the doorway to check outside before they left the cabin. Anne’s people were scattering away, panicked, but she managed to hold them in a defensive circle, raising their homemade weapons.

Amanda realized then like the Wolves they didn’t have guns, either. She wondered briefly then if that was the reason why the woman had played nice with them and wondered how their encounter might have passed if they had an arsenal. It was a speculation Amanda wasn’t sure if it was the best time or the place right now. She surveyed their surroundings, searching for the movement, but couldn’t see anything.

“Where are they?” she whispered at Rick, who was doing the same beside her.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, alert for the second wave of attack, and before the minute finished, it started. First, with a wheezing sound, an arrow passed beside Rick and shot the man a few feet away from him.

“TAKE COVER!” Rick hollered as they threw themselves behind the trees.

Then the attack truly came.

Amanda saw a dozen men charging them in the dark, their blades raised above their heads. They looked as feral as rabid dogs as they attacked, true savages with their dirty clothes, their faces hidden behind the bandanas they had covered themselves until their eyes. The only clear thing was the Ws on their foreheads.

His jaw squaring, Rick raised his rifle, but Amanda stopped him, putting her hand on the weapon. “No,” she said, darting her eyes at him. “Rotters are still around. Gunshots would bring more.”

Rick nodded tersely, but releasing the sling, took his ax instead. His expression hardened even worse as he sneered, “Bullets are too civilized for them anyway.”

For a moment, Amanda remembered that night in the woods, the way he looked before he ripped out that bastard’s throat with his teeth. That ferocity was with him again, and even with his clothes and clean face, he looked as feral as those rabid dogs.

A shiver passed through her, and it wasn’t because she was in the night chill with only her thin sweater over her shirt, but she knew those animals were going to learn what all the other bastards had learned in the end.

That they were fucking with the wrong people.

Her face setting, Amanda drew her knife too.

# # #

Even without the gunshots, the fire drew walkers as they fought.

Rick kicked the rabid man toward a walker before he turned aside and blew another one’s head with his ax. Sliding the blade through the mushy bone and brain matter, Rick searched for Amanda. She was a few feet away beside him, fighting with another Wolf as a walker approached her from behind.

The rifle’s serial shots were too dangerous as they were all mixed in the fighting now, and Rick wouldn’t want to get her shot in the friendly fire again, so he quickly drew his revolver, pegging his ax, and aimed for the walker. It took two shots to make the headshot in the dark, but when the dead dropped behind her, she swept the man’s feet and flipped herself over him on the ground in an effortless move that made her mount on his chest before she stabbed him at his neck.

Rick sprinted and held her elbow as she straightened up, his eyes searching for Daryl. “We gotta go. The walkers are coming.”

Amanda nodded. Daryl was shooting his crossbow a few yards away from them inside the tree lines. Rick whistled. “Daryl. Pull back—” he shouted, waving his arm backward. “Pull back!”

He wished to stay and made those sonofabitches regret, but the walkers had already made a herd, and soon more were going to come. Feeling the same, Anne’s people had started doing the same too as they ran in the cover of the trees.

As they ran away, Rick weighed his options. Pulling back away with Daryl and Amanda and leaving them alone in the woods to their own was his first instinct. Despite what Amanda might think, they owned them nothing. But by so far, Anne and her people didn’t look like they double-crossed them. They were running away from the Wolves, too. And there was a little voice in his mind that reminded him desperate people did desperate things.

Out of desperation, the bastard had tried to buy his way in with those animals, straying off from his own people. It hadn’t worked in the end, but the man had still tried. If Rick abandoned them now, what Anne would have tried?

It hadn’t worked with Liam, but Anne wasn’t one person. She had almost thirty people with her. It would make a difference. Safety in numbers.

How the Wolves had found the safe house bothered him, but they had already found out their other safe house's vicinity. Tonight, they also made some noise with the herd and all. The Wolves might have heard it and wanted to check around.

Leaving the cache inside the cabin bothered him, too, leaving an arsenal for those animals, arming them with their stuff, but the cabin was already half burning. With any luck, they couldn’t break inside. God. Today was a shitload of trouble that just couldn’t finish.

They stopped in a small clearing between the trees. Rick raised his head, looking for Amanda, who had stopped beside him and leaned her back against an oak tree. “You okay?” Rick rasped out through laboring breaths, tucking his Colt Python in his holster as he moved closer to her.

He touched her elbow as she nodded. “Yeah—” she breathed out, her chest falling and raising too.

Her face and hands were covered with blood and dirt stains, and Rick hated to see her like that. He hated that they had to live through this again. He had promised himself his family was never going to need to live through this again. His emotions flamed his rage more, making him want to growl out, making him want to go back and find those animals and rip out their throats. Rick suppressed his wild, inflamed emotions and tried to think with reason.

“Did you cover the lid of the cache?” the first question the logical side of his mind came up with, but Amanda shook her head, her expression getting cloudy as she realized what Rick was asking.

“No,” she replied. Then the guns were out in the open.

Rick only gave her a slight nod, deciding not to dwell on it. What happened, happened. If they managed to get inside and check the cabin, they were going to find the guns. There was nothing to do for that anymore.

Daryl approached them from their left. “Man, what we’re gonna do?”

Rick surveyed the area, wandering his eyes over Anne’s people. They couldn’t stay out in the woods like this. Anne came to their side too. “Do you have got injured?” Rick questioned.

“One of my people got a hit. One was stabbed at his side—” she answered.

“Is anyone bit?”

Anne gave him a curt nod. “One.”

Rick nodded, searching for the wounded. A young man in his late twenties was rested against a tree, holding the junction of his neck as he bled. There was nothing to do for him, but the other two were lying down on the ground, Brion and Anne’s other second in command were treating them.

“Brion and Tamiel will look after them,” Anne continued. “But they need meds.”

“We go to the second safe house—” Amanda said, linking her arms under her chest. “There’s a first aid kit there. We can treat them there before we return to Alexandria.”

Rick nodded, not seeing anything other than to retreat to the second safe house that was closer to Alexandria. The other alternative was staying out in the night like this, and Rick didn’t like it. His eyes turned to Daryl. “Daryl, can you find it?”

It had been already hell trying to find this one in the woods and the second house was even further away. But Daryl gave him a simple nod in return. Amanda had started shivering, her arms wrapping tighter around her torso, her shoulders sagged as if she wanted to shrink herself.

Silently cursing at himself, Rick quickly peeled off his jacket and threw it over her thin sweater. “Rick—” she started, but pushing her right arm in the sleeve, Rick stopped her.

“Shush. You’re freezing.”

As he zipped it, pulling the fur collar up to her neck, he sensed eyes on them. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Anne watching them intently, but her focus wasn’t directed at them, but at his jacket.

She walked closer, still eyeing his jacket. “Are those biters?” she asked, her voice having a timber of curiosity.

Rick nodded disinterestedly, pulling back from Amanda, feeling the cold worse now with only his shirt. “It helps to cover our scent.”

“Camouflage,” Anne remarked with a nod before she swiftly turned to her second in commands. “Brion, Tamiel. Find us biters.”

Half an hour later, they all started moving again, covered with guts and pieces of walkers. Rick was wearing Daryl’s angel wings vest, the man had forsaken it for his sake, wearing his jacket underneath. Rick couldn’t bring himself to ruin Daryl’s precious belonging, the only thing Daryl seemed to be attached to beside his crossbow. So Rick had only put the remains over his shirt, Amanda giving them an apologizing look for taking her jacket off in the cabin.

They fell in line, Rick taking their six, Amanda beside him, controlling the flock ahead of them as Daryl moved their cortege. They were murmurs among them as they walked, wary and speculative looks shifting at Daryl as if he led them in the woods.

Rick could understand, but he didn’t say anything. They hadn’t seen yet what kind of wonders the tracker managed to pull off in the woods. When they arrived at the second cabin three hours later in the pitch dark, Anne and her people looked impressed.

“You really found it—” Brion whispered, staring at the cabin in front of them. “I thought you were just making us walk.”

For a response, Daryl only grumbled. They circled the cabin first, checking the perimeters before they got inside. The same question was in the mind of each of them. What if they were walking into another trap?

Well, there was still one way to find out.

They broke into, taking the defense position, covering each other’s back, and found the cabin untouched. Rick swallowed down a breath of relief, and he knew each of them did the same too. What had happened earlier must have been just bad luck.

# # #

They put down the fire quickly, quenching the flames before more walkers came after they ran. Ron was bounded, his hands tied behind his back, sitting in front of the cabin as they killed the rest of the walkers.

His insides retched as they did, looking like they took a great pleasure killing those things as much as killing living people. Ron had been terrified after seeing those men again after he realized they’d recognized him as well.

The words had left him then as he told them what had happened, why they were here, what they had been doing. The cabin was what he had given up when the leader had threatened to cut off his arm. They came out of inside with a backpack, and Ron knew what was inside.

“Found it, Owen!” Pulling down the bandana over his nose and mouth, the leery man shouted at their leader who was standing beside Ron in front of the cabin, looking at the black pack raised in the air in triumph.

A smile broke over the man’s darkened lips, revealing yellow dirty teeth. “It’s your lucky day, boy—” the man laughed, then motioned his men with his head. “Pack up. We’re moving.”

They blindfolded him as they trudged through the woods. Two men were holding him under his armpits, directing him over the roots and pits, laughing silently each time his foot stumbled and pulling him upright before he fell on his face, his hands still bound at his back.

They walked, walked, walked, Ron missed the time, but only he realized they were no longer in the woods when the sounds of the woods had silenced around them and his feet touched on the flat hard surface instead of rough, uneven terrain.

Then there was light again. It was a pale one, coming from above, but after the pitch dark, it came to him like the bright sun in summer midday. Blinking against it, Ron understood they were in a warehouse as he also saw a few more Del Arno trucks and two military-type jeeps were parked inside.

He wondered if the trucks were full of walkers too, but he didn’t want to know. They pushed him a corner, fixing him a threatening look. “Stay here, and don’t make any sound—” Owen made a warning before his leery second in command shouted at him.

“Hey, Owen—” He raised the backpack they had retrieved from the cabin in the air again. “What’re we gonna do with this?”

Owen made a frustrated sigh, shaking his head. “Stop shaking it in the air, Aphid!” he shouted back, “and hide it before Simon shows up, dammit!”

The leery man nodded with a sickening enthusiasm. Ron didn’t know who this Simon was and why they were hiding the guns from him, but it sounded like they didn’t want to cross the man, and the thought gave Ron a shudder.

A man who could make these people fear him. Ron didn’t want to meet him. Funny enough they also left him alone, going on their own business, no one giving him a second look as Ron waited in the corner that they had dropped him, his hands still bound back. His limbs were aching, his joints were sore with the lack of movement, and he was thirsty and hungry, but as he sat down with his head bowed, he was glad to be left alone. He wanted to return, he wanted to go back to the town, to his mother. This—this wasn’t what he had planned. He had planned to end his life, fulfill his revenge and finish it. He had welcomed death. It should have ended then, not like this.

Owen came to his side sometime in the night, crouching in front of him. “You make no sound, you hear me, little pig. No sound.”

His eyes cast down; Ron bobbed his head. It was then he understood it was almost dawn, sunlight starting to seep through the windows in the heights in the warehouse, lighting the interiors. A stone dropped in his stomach, another realization finding him. The night had passed, and no one was going to come to look for him. Everyone thought him dead now. Nothing was going to come to rescue him. Did Ron still want it? Did he still want to live?

Ron heard the motor sounds outside before he could find an answer in him. Aphid took a few of the Wolves around and sprinted to the entrance. They started the mechanism that made the door fold up opening the doorway and a cortege of three military jeeps like the ones that had parked inside slowly rolled in.

At the head of the cortege, inside the open vehicle, a man with a horseshoe mustache stood up from the passenger seat, and removing his sunglasses with a frisky movement, leaning over the windshield, he hollered, “Oh my! Liked the new place, Owen. Very comfy!”

His words were mocking, and even Ron could see it from the way Owen’s lips flattened, but the man only said, “Glad to hear it, Simon. We’ve been making progress.”

“Hmm—” the man jumped from the jeep after he stuffed his sunglasses inside his jacket’s pocket and swaggered toward them as the men followed his example, pouring out of their vehicles. Ron understood it was the man they had been waiting for since last night. “Progress?” he questioned.

“Hilltop is ready—” Owen replied.

Simon cracked a laugh. “Hope you didn’t butcher a shitload of people—” he said with a burst of sinister but loud laughter. “Negan doesn’t like that shit, I tell ya, man.” He shook his head, shooting a look at his people before his dark eyes found Owen again. “He’s still pissed at you for Shirewilt.”

“You told me to deal with Shirewilt!”

Ron feared the older man was going to be angry with that, but he only cracked another loud laughter. “Did I, right?” He asked, letting out another snickering laughter as if he was amused, and Ron remembered Shirewilt and what Carl and Officer Shepherd had told them before. “Well, we can’t be the Saviors without people to save, huh?” He pulled back his hand. “Those rotting pricks get old after a while.”

“Well, Hilltop is ready for you to save the day—” Owen repeated, a snarky tint in his tone this time as Ron tried to make sense of the talk. It sounded like they were planning something, but Ron couldn’t understand. “We made a raid, killed a couple of them, stole a few of their supplies. They’ve got a lot of them. Have even sheep.”

“Amazing!” Simon hooted, pumping a fist in the air. “Fresh milk for us before bedtime!”

Owen gave the man a look, gazing at the jeeps as his men started unloading the crates from the backside of the vehicles. Ron understood they were supplies. The men, Simon and his men had come to deliver supplies.

Owen returned to the leader. “I found a new community.”

“A new community?” Simon asked back as Ron shivered.

“Yeah. Further in the south. I’ve been patrolling to find it, but I know they’re there.” His eyes flicked to Ron for a second. “I’ll find it soon.”

“Very good, Owen, very good—” the other man nodded. “Negan is gonna be pleased to hear it.”

 “I want more supplies—” Owen countered, gazing at the crates before returning it to Simon. “And a dozen Nmarks.”

Simon snickered another laughter. “And I want a pony—” he leered, putting a hand on Owen’s shoulder. “Christmas is approaching. Why don’t you ask Santa for one?” He paused. “Or ask Laura—” he offered, halting for a split second as if the idea just came to him. “Lord knows the whore is like Santa nowadays—” His men behind snickered with silent laughter too as Simon muttered, “Giving away loans as easily as she opens her legs.”

Owen didn’t share his men’s joy as they cackled more with the belittling words. He fixated the other man a look. “At least give me some guns.”

Simon shook his head, giving Owen a look back as he leaned down in him, holding his shoulder again. “Man, you know the rules. No guns. Negan wants you to be truly terrifying.”

Owen’s lips clenched but didn’t move away from his grip. “Those people have got a lot of guns. We’ve come across them a couple of times. They know how to fight and have got firepower. We need guns.”

Dropping his hand, Simon shook his shoulders in a mockery of apology. “Sorry. Rules are rules. If it were me, I’ve had given you some shit to terrify them as much as you want, but you know Negan.” He let out a mocking smile. “How he says it…” He paused for a second and when he spoke the next, his voice had dropped a tone down, as he imitated the man called Negan who sounded like the leader of both men; “You don’t give your dogs fuckin' guns, Simon, you make them bark.”

Another smile and he barked at Owen, “So go and bark, little wolfie.” His smile vaporized as his eyes hardened with a darkening glint, losing every mirth in it. “Do your job. Negan wants to move to the south before the first snow in the north.” The dark glint turned even more threatening. “You know what he does when people disappoint him.”

There was a tense silence that none of the men broke until lifting his head, Simon whistled loud. It echoed in the silence of the warehouse. “A’right, we move out!” he called out and his jovial demeanor coming again, the dark threatening glint disappearing, the man took back his sunglasses from his jacket after climbing in the jeep and put them on.

“Chop chop, wolfies—” he bellowed out, slinging over the edge of the jeep’s side, shouting out another loud laughter. “Don’t forget to howl!”

He stayed like that, leaning over the edge of the windshield lazily, staring at Owen over his sunglasses. “I’m waiting, people!”

Ron could see the way Owen’s lip clenched again, but the next second, he threw his head backward and howled. The others followed him and started howling as Simon sat back on his seat, cackling with howling laughter too. “This shit never gets old…” Ron heard him say aloud when howling stopped before the motors turned on again and they started driving out of the warehouse.

When they left the driveway Ron had a glimpse of the door closing down again before Owen marched at his side. His face was furious with humiliation and fuming red, and there was no mercy in his eyes.

Ron tried to suppress a tremble and failed. “I’m gonna ask you only a question. If you don’t answer, I cut off a finger before I ask again—” he told Ron without a flinch. “Where’s your town?”

# # #

When they didn’t answer their call over the radio at the dawn, Joan had returned to her room to pack before she left the town. Carol must have left the armory after her, too, without Joan noticing her because the older woman was standing in the doorway of their room. “What are you doing?” she asked watching Joan pack up.

“I’m going out—” Joan replied simply.

She was going out. Last night, waiting for him to return was enough of a nightmare. She couldn’t stay inside anymore. Everyone had been saying they would have returned at the dawn, passing the night, but they weren’t still here. They didn’t even answer their calls.

And Joan couldn’t wait for any second longer.

She should’ve never let him in the first place. They hadn’t wanted her to leave for the dry run, and Joan had conceded, not only because they had thought of her too valuable to risk after Anderson’s death

Imagining Daryl now in a pit somewhere out there, unable to turn back was a nightmare she had never felt before. Even when things hadn’t turned bad between Gorman and her, Joan had never felt like this when Gorman left for the runs. Joan hadn’t slept a wink last night. She hadn’t stayed up on the watch platform like Carl, but she’d passed the whole night awake in front of the radio station in the armory, waiting for them to call.

It had never come. Abraham had told her they were going to go to the second safe house which was out of their range so they couldn’t contact. They would return at dawn, the man had said emphatically, but when the sun broke, they only hadn’t returned, but they weren’t also calling back.

Something must have happened. Joan knew it. And she was losing her mind, sitting ducks here, so she needed to get out. Find him. She had to find him.

“Joan—” Carol called out to her softly as she ran around the room to pick up necessities. “It’s still too early. Maybe they haven’t arrived yet.”

She shook her head. “Rick won’t stay there after the first ray of the sunlight, Carol. You know it. Even if they can’t come yet, they should’ve been in the range by now.”

It’d passed almost an hour after the dawn, so they really should have been inside the range by now. “Perhaps they just lost the radios—” Carol argued.

“Perhaps they’ve just fallen in some ditch, waiting for someone to rescue them.”

“You’re right—” the woman told her, nodding. Startled, Joan stopped and turned to her. “You’re right,” Carol repeated, moving her closer. “I’m gonna talk with Abraham. We prepare a team and go out to look for them. Carl must have already gone to talk to him. We’ll go out and look for them, but not like this, Joan.”

Letting out a breath of relief, Joan nodded, dropping her arms at her sides. “I have to find him,” she muttered over a sob, bowing her head, something snapping in her insides, her sight getting blurry.

“Joan?” Carol asked, her voice sounding nearer and more in concern. “What’s happening?”

Joan lifted her head and looked at the other woman. “I’m pregnant.”

The older woman’s eyes widened, and she sputtered out, “Is—is it Daryl’s?”

Her eyes narrowed as she sent the woman a seething glare. “Yes. And you know I haven’t been sleeping with anyone else, because you’ve been watching us like a hawk!” she fired, her sudden desperation turning to sudden anger after the question. “And why the hell would’ve I said I needed to find Daryl if he’s not the father?” She paused, her chin throbbing with her anger. “Do you think I would try to pass someone else’s child as his?”

Carol raised her hands against her verbal assault, trying to soothe her down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like this. It was a shock—” she apologized, and it sounded earnest. “It’s just you’ve only started sleeping together recently.”

Joan dropped the backpack on the floor, shaking her head. “Even one time is enough to get knocked up,” she remarked placidly. “Hope you didn’t forget the mechanics.”

It was a below the belt comment, but she’d just accused her first infidelity, then with a baby sweep. Granted, Daryl and Joan had never come out with their…relationship even in the vague ways Amanda and Sheriff had done, Daryl had never even held her hand in public yet, but. Joan let out a sigh and sat down on the bed.

“I’m late—” she explained. “He pulled out in time, but it’s never one hundred percent sure. When I noticed I’m late, I waited for two weeks then had a test in the infirmary this week. It was positive.”

Carol stayed silent, and Joan shook her head with a sigh tiredly. “I was just joking to Amanda we all should get very accustomed to our menstruation circle, and then this happened.” She let out a low snicker. “I got knocked up before her.”

Carol raised an eyebrow after that, but Joan didn’t see any bewildered expression over the woman’s face. It took her a few seconds to realize that Carol already knew it. “You knew what happened with them, right?”

The older woman gave a brief nod. “Yeah, Rick mentioned…the accident—” she confirmed after a brief pause. The accident. She guessed it was the suitable term. “Did she take the pills?” Carol asked.

“Yeah, but they passed the expiry date,” Joan admitted. “They’re still working, but less potent. She still might get pregnant.”

Carol shook her head, looking frustrated more than anything now. “What the hell you both are doing, Joan?” she asked. “Amanda going to dry runs while she might be pregnant, and you trying to run away while pregnant?”

Joan’s face hardened. “Being pregnant doesn’t mean you’re handicapped.”

“Of course not!” Carol objected. “But it’s reckless.” She walked toward the bed closer to Joan. “Do you think Daryl would want you to go look for him outside when you carry his child?”

Joan heaved a deep sigh. “I don’t even know if he would want this child, Carol.” The words left her, her fears for the last few days finding her again. “I just convinced him to sleep with me after weeks. What am I supposed to do now? Go tell him I’m gonna pop out a little Daryl in nine months?”

Carol’s face was still as hard as before. “You didn’t do it alone. He did it, too.”

“Yeah—” she replied. “Accidently.”

The old woman’s eyes narrowed again. “Joan…do you want this baby?”

Did she? The old Joan would have thought a baby might be…uh…an excellent way to bond them together, a bond nothing, no one would break, and there was a part of her deep inside her still thought of that as the other part felt scared that Daryl would think the same too. That she had planned this to bind him to herself.

But a baby? A real baby? Her being its mother?

Did she really want this?

There was no answer in her, and Joan didn’t want to lie. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think I’m still trying to process it.”

Her answer sounded as if it satisfied Carol as the woman soothed down, nodding at Joan. “All right, let’s go find Abraham and talk to him.” She paused, fixating at her another look. “But there’s no going out, Joan. You’re staying in.”

With another sigh, knowing that she wouldn’t win over that argument now, not even knowing that she should insist anymore, Joan nodded. She had to get back Daryl. But going out like this, well, it really sounded reckless when she thought about it.

She bobbed her head. “Okay.”

The armory had become a hive of unrest after Joan had left him. Carl was sitting in front of the radio now, leaving his post on the watch platform. The teenage boy’s face was so stark and shadowy that Joan felt bad for him. She wanted to hug him, her eyes pricking.

She wondered if it was pregnancy hormones, she had started to feel them already, because Joan never remembered herself being this sentimental before. Carl’s girlfriend was with him, too, and she looked worse to wear. Even Beatrice had come, standing behind Glenn who stood at the other side of Abraham.

Abraham’s next side Rosita was, and to her side, Carter stood with Father Gabriel. They both looked preoccupied. Joan had sedated Jessie last night after they had returned, the woman was still screaming and trashing in Abraham’s arms when they carried her to the infirmary. Joan had left her with Bob and Sasha afterward and had made her way to the armory and spent the rest of her night in front of the radio.

There still were a lot of things to talk about, but Joan only wanted them back now. All of them. Daryl, Amanda, Rick. She had an inkling that Daryl was going to need Rick after he learned the news. The man was a good father. One could say a lot of things about Rick Grimes but could never deny that. Daryl was going to need him.

Joan halted momentarily; her eyes riveted on the radio. Was she going to tell Daryl?

“Dad—” Carl's voice interrupted her erratic musings as the teenager called in again. “Please, respond.”

He let out the press button, and they all listened to the static. He shook his head, turning toward them, lifting his head. “We need to go out and look for them.”

Abraham nodded. “We prepare SAR teams and move out ASAP.” He turned to Heath who had taken Aiden’s duties in the town following his death. “Heath—” he started, but suddenly they got caught as Beth and Dylan breezed inside together with an exclamation that clanked in her ears, echoing through her.

“They’ve returned!”

# # #

Amanda wasn’t surprised to see the town was in an uproar, preparing search and rescue teams to look for them just before they showed up at the main gate. They must have been trying to reach them over the radios, but they had lost the equipment in the attack last night. Amanda could only imagine their panic when they hadn’t returned at dawn.

Moving with almost thirty people and three of them injured took more time than they had been prepared, especially since someone from their ranks had also started having a fever before they left the cabin. When they had made a stop, they couldn’t see any bite on the man but had waited to make sure he just got cold, or he somehow got infected. They had given him antibiotics and a dose of ibuprofen in the first aid kit, but when his condition didn’t get better, they started moving out of the cabin, keeping an eye on the man.

The townspeople gawked at them stupefied while the new arrivals made a half-circle and looked back at them, dropping their sick down on the ground beside the gatehouse.

“DAD!” It was Carl who had broken the stunned silence in the air, the stupor as the teenage boy ran madly toward them from the armory’s side, the word loudly echoing in the morning sky. He threw his arms around Rick’s waist, holding him in a tight embrace. “You’re back.”

Dipping his head, Rick wrapped his arms over Carl too as Amanda watched them with a small smile, the first time since last night. “Of course—” Rick replied, lowering his voice so only Carl and she would hear him as she stood beside him. “Amanda promised to bring me back, remember?”

Carl nodded, slanting a look at her, his lips pulling upwards. “Yeah—” he muttered. “Thanks.”

Amanda wanted to say she didn’t do particularly anything, but somehow the words got stuck in her tightened throat as she could only smile back at the teenage boy.

Rick stepped away from Carl a second later, others joining them. His eyes found Joan in the crowd and talked to her briefly. “Joan, he’s got a fever—” he briefed, pointing at the man that two other men were carrying, dragging him slowly, holding him from under his armpits.

“We don’t know if he’s got infected, but his fever doesn’t go down,” Rick went on as Joan looked at him stupefied. “Get him in the infirmary.” He turned to Daryl. “Daryl, make sure he’s secured. Take the other ones too.”

Daryl gave a quick nod and tilted his head at the men before starting to lead them toward the infirmary.

“Rick—” Carter was the first one to announce the obvious. “Who are these people?”

There was a little pause, Rick shooting a look at Anne who stood just a few feet behind them watching the whole scene serenely, then turned to Carter. “These are our new recruits, councilman.”

Notes:

Hurray, finally, I let out every twist and secret, hehe. Yup, Joan is preggers, not Amanda, as I wanted Daryl and Joan to deal with an accidental pregnancy as Daryl won't have his Dwight arc here. I was saving him and their relationship for this :) I always wanted to focus on Daryl and Joan more, but as Amanda and Rick is a very, very dramatically over-the-top couple I was shy about adding Daryl's drama on top of it, heh. I mean, Amanda has been always basically a female version of Daryl, in fact, I'd created her for that purpose in Adaptation, so Amanda and Daryl wrecking their relationships at the same time Rick and Joan deal with their own stuff might have been a lot. ( A side note, I was also inspired by Anne and Rick's antagonistic dynamic in the show while I was writing Adaptation and building Amanda from a minor character, making her have the same dynamics with Rick, so using Anne is like this is fun too. :))

AND, yup, my Wolves works for Negan. In the show, I never understood the Wolves' primary reason for doing what they did, frankly, so I gave them another modus-operandi, and someone like Negan needs something like this, basically something like state-sponsored terrorism, to keep his dominion under his control. The way the show dealt with Negan was almost...comical honestly. You need a lot, a lot more than bashing people's heads to keep a large group of people in line, so my Negan is gonna use a lot more scheming, and the carrot and stick situations. I'm gonna try to build a very solid infrastructure for Saviors too. Laura and Negan's background is gonna be different too, very very different, but basically, she's still the same woman who was saved by Negan before he became the Negan, starting both their journey. Laura is gonna be a lot different from her counterpart in the show, because I didn't want to create another OC, but worked her way in the story as my own. She's basically a prostitute, more like a Madame because the Sanctuary also needs to have a brothel, and she runs the place. The thing is, especially after I saw the Wives in the show, I was like...damn, where is the brothel, guys... I mean, a place like Sanctuary cannot stay up at its feet if it doesn't have a place like a brothel. It just cannot happen. As sad as it is, prostitution is as ancient as the world itself. And Nmark is Negan's currency. Every monarch, every sort of state, establishment always needs to issue its own money to establish its own rule, so Negan isn't any different, either. I was going to call it as Ncoin, but I didn't want to sound like Bitcoin, hehe.

So here we are, Amanda, Rick, and Daryl brought in a lot of new people, Joan is preggers, the herd is out, swarming the woods, the Wolves is about to learn about Alexandria after raiding the safe houses, and Negan IS coming to the south... I think I can finally say I've managed to make things as bad as possible for them.

See y'all possibly after the new year. I would really like to hear your opinions, but I won't, because you're not listening to me, heh. I wish you all Happy Christmas and a Happy New Year (as good as 2022 may be. I don't have big hopes, honestly. This winter is gonna be hard.)

Chapter 48: 'Why the fuck I fell in love with you, asshole!'

Summary:

Surrounded by the threats outside, the town tries to deal with the new arrivals. Joan's news made Amanda and Rick have another confrontation.

Notes:

Hello! Happy new year and belated Merry Christmas to everyone!
Again, I couldn't edit this chapter well, just ran Grammarly once, so I apologize beforehand if there are continuity errors and/or grammatical mistakes. Edits really require a lot of time, which I no longer have. But no worries, I'm *still* writing the third book. I'll try to keep the updating schedule for a chapter in two weeks, fingers crossed. Enjoy

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Deanna—” Denise called out in a low voice, lightly tapping on the master bedroom’s door. “Twenty-seven people came with Sheriff Grimes this morning.” She waited for a reply, but it didn’t come. “He settled them in the detention house—” Denise continued, not giving up. “They are waiting for their interviews.”

The details of what had happened last night were missing, left to be explained thoroughly in the meeting that Sheriff Grimes had called in an hour after the spectacle at the gate. Denise could still read the signs and the appearances, though. Both former law enforcement officers were covered with blood, dirt, mud, and some puddle of dark stuff that smelled so bad Denise was afraid to ask what it was. The hunter was a bit better, still dirty but he didn’t smell that bad at least.

The newcomers… Well, they were entirely something else. The Sheriff had ordered them to stay put, making Sergeant Ford and Heath escort them to the house that they used as their detention center, and Denise knew he’d done it on purpose. He had also ordered the other men to stay guard at the front door as his coworker, Glenn Reese, took the watch for the back door.

Then he had strode to his house, Carter’s loud demands for an explanation only answered by a dismissive call to a meeting in an hour. Before Amanda followed him, the woman slipped beside Denise to tell her that Deanna had to prepare for the interviews.

The problems were literally at their doorsteps. Deanna had jumped into a stark depression in her mourning. Denise expected anger and denial still yet to come before she moved to acceptance of her loss. But they didn’t have time. So Denise was here, hoping the news of the new arrivals would move their leader out of her reclusion, but Deanna wasn’t still answering the distress call.

“She won’t come—” a male voice spoke behind her. “Leave her alone.”

Turning around, Denise faced Spencer. “I know she needs time, but we need her, Spencer,” she remarked with the same softness, trying to sound emphatic, but she felt it fell short to his ears much like how her pleas fell deaf to Deanna.

“She doesn’t owe you anything,” the younger man replied stiffly. “If Rick brings in new people, he can handle them as well. That’s on him.”

Denise would disagree with that, but she didn’t see the point. Underneath his tone, Denise also sensed a fragment of anger in the man’s voice, bitter and acerbic. Deanna and Reg were in the depression stage, but Spencer was still stuck in anger. His anger also seemed to be targeted in a certain direction.

Denise knew it was also pointless to try to talk to him right now, but she made a mental note to make an appointment for the younger man when everything was settled. As she left the house, there was a part of her that whispered to her it might be an ‘if’ instead of a ‘when’, but Denise tried not to listen to it.

# # #

“How’s she?” Amanda asked slowly standing at the bed’s foot where Jessie was lying, looking like a ghost as she slept. After they parted ways at the gate, Rick led Anne and her people toward the detention center and Amanda followed Daryl together with Carol and Joan to the infirmary.

“She was already in shock when Abraham brought them back,” Carol answered with a sympathetic but stiff voice. “Joan had to sedate her.”

Amanda nodded, still staring at the woman. The dangers of last night and the new arrivals had forced her mind off from what Ron had done, but once she was in Alexandria again, it was all coming back.

She turned toward the other two, the bitten man who Daryl had secured at the bedpost. It was the second time they’d done this to someone, and it felt even worse. The man wasn’t as lucky as Nicholas, his bite wasn’t in the limb they could’ve cut off to stop the infection, so he was just waiting for the inevitable now.

Beside him, Joan and Daryl were standing. Joan looked truly shaken as she checked on the man, trying to make him as comfortable as possible in his last hours. The other man’s injury was treated too, but the way the usually cool woman in such situations distracted Amanda more.

There was something wrong. The Joan she knew never looked like this in times of crisis. She was a full certified surgical nurse, having nerves like steel. She wondered if the last night had finally broken her resolves, shattering her coolness, recalling the way she had looked when they showed up at the gate, and Amanda became sure of it when Joan made a move to Daryl after finishing with the men, touching his forearm.

“You okay?” she asked in a low voice, but Amanda managed to pick it up.

Daryl gave her a shifting nod, looking away from her, pulling his arm. Amanda scowled at the same time with Joan. Carol looked passively pensive. “Yeah—” he murmured before starting walking out of the infirmary without a look at her.

Joan stared at his back as Amanda turned to Carol after the asshole move. Granted, none could ever accuse of Daryl being oversensitive. The hunter was even worse than Rick sometimes ignoring people, but he was never this careless with the people he cared for. And Daryl cared, Amanda knew it as much as she knew Rick cared for her. But she also knew that didn’t make things magically smooth in the relationships. Daryl and Joan’s relationship had started slowly and had evolved into something else, but Amanda still suspected that Joan was going to have a full hand with dealing with the rough hunter. Something was telling her Daryl was as bad as her with relationships and the realization made Amanda feel for her friend in camaraderie.

“Anne captured him in the woods—” Amanda tried to explain to make it better for the younger woman. “They found us then in the second safe house before the Wolves attacked.” They couldn’t have explained the whole story at the gate, leaving the details for the meetings, but Daryl must still be mad at himself for being captured. “I guess he needs time to work it out.”

Joan made a curt nod, dismissive, turning away from them. She reached for the thermometer from the bedpost and took the bitten man fever. “Yeah, he can take as much time as he wants…” she muttered with a bitter voice. “It’s not like that we’ve got a deadline or anything before I pop out his baby in nine months.”

Everything around her froze for a second as Amanda stared at the younger woman before she exclaimed, “What?!”

Joan turned to her. “I’m pregnant.”

# # #

“Twenty-seven people!” Carter exclaimed, looking at him with widened eyes. “You’ve brought twenty-seven people in! People we don’t know anything about?!” His voice bellowed out. “Are you mad?”

His lips clenched as his jaw squared, but Rick stayed silent as he couldn’t have disagreed with the man. His eyes flickered at Amanda who was silent with a thoughtful look over her face. She seemed more contemplative since she’d come back from the infirmary before joining them in the lounge room. The attack had broken her bleak mood, forcing her to the fighting mood, but Rick surmised arriving in the town, seeing Jessie set her back again.

“Aaron brought us in the middle of the night—” he remarked, instead of touching the obvious issue.

“Aaron watched you for days before he made his first contact—” Carter pointed out with a head shake. “You knew them for what? Half of a night?”

It was the truth, and Rick felt the same wariness, and it was why he’d placed them in the detention house under strict surveillance. Even Deanna had done the same thing when Rick and his people arrived. Rick wouldn’t have certainly done anything less.

The last thought made him remember the lack of their leader. He had made Denise call for the woman before they left the gate, but Deanna still hadn’t come. He wished to have Deanna’s presence, creating a buffer between him and the rest of the townspeople.

Finally deciding to step in, Amanda did the job instead, like she usually did, holding his back. “Look—” she said, her face losing its sober look as her voice developed a note of frustration. “They were out in the woods and we brought the dead onto them. What else would we have done? Leave them alone to deal with that? The woods are swarming with walkers now!”

Carter’s expression shifted when she explained it that way. “What happened wasn’t our fault—” he mumbled. “We couldn’t have known Ron would do that.”

“Officer Shepherd is right—” This time it was Father Gabriel who spoke, which made Amanda send the reverend a look as Rick stayed silent. “You who showed mercy, you all are my neighbors—” he intoned, holding her look.

The coward possibly said it to make them remember their meeting, how they had saved him in the woods, and it was very ironic coming from the man. Not only because he’d told the others Rick was dangerous, but because he hadn’t done himself what he was preaching now. He had let his people die out there. Perhaps he was still trying to atone for his own mistakes, but Amanda shook her head.

“It isn’t only mercy,” she opposed. “But our responsibility. We may not cause this, but we’re still responsible.”

This was an argument that Rick didn’t want to fight with her anymore. Their responsibility or not, even though the thought had crossed his mind and the temptation was great, they couldn’t have left them in the woods. Not when the Wolves were there. They were enemies, but desperation caused people to try to make peace with things they never would think they could have. Even Rick had offered to Governor to live together even after all the atrocities the psychopath had done to them. It was a foolish hope, something never could have been, but Rick had still done it.

No. He much preferred Anne and her people to be where he knew it. “Nevertheless, they’re here now,” so he said, cutting the discussion. “It’s better for us to know where they are right now.”

They wouldn’t want anyone making any alliance with the Wolves, topping their numbers more. But after they dealt with Wolves, if they would even blink at the wrong way, he was going to kick them out. They’d taken their homemade weapons at the entrance, stripped them naked down to their knives, and Rick was going to keep it in that way as long as he could, too.

“The Wolves have almost arrived outside our walls—” Rick continued, changing the topic from the new arrivals. “They already found one of our safe houses. Perhaps they even retrieved the guns we hid there.”

“What are we going to do?” Heath asked. “You say the woods are too dangerous now, swarming with walkers.”

“We need to deal with the herd first,” Rick agreed with a nod. “We can’t let it stay that way. They are spread out now, but the dead are drawn to the sight of life. We’ve got more than ten miles between us but sooner or later, they’re going to find us here.”

The young man looked at him. “So what’s the plan?”

Rick didn’t know. He still hadn’t thought of anything, and that was what bothered him the most. Instead of sitting down in this meeting and worrying over the new arrivals, he should do something. “If we somehow can herd them together and move them away—” he muttered, thinking aloud his initial plan.

“Can it be done?” Carter asked eagerly, his face showing off his expectations as if Rick was a magician who could perform miracles. “Can you do it?”

“I don’t know—” Rick answered truthfully, his nerves getting tenser because of his answer. “We haven’t tried before.”

They usually tried to run away from the herds. He had moved them away from the fences in the prison by sacrificing his pigs but gathering them in one place was entirely another thing. Something Rick had never thought they would’ve needed to do. Letting them wander in the woods was still tempting, but if they did it, it also meant the woods were off-limits.

It was unacceptable. If they lost the woods, then it meant they were here without a safe place to line up to if they ever needed to leave the town. They had to figure out something.  “We’ll think on something—” Rick said aloud. He had to.

“I informed Deanna to make her start the interviews,” Denise supplied, “but she didn’t answer.”

Rick jerked his head briefly. He didn’t mind the interviews, but they had more pressing issues than playing twenty questions with people. “Interviews can wait,” he replied. “They will stay in the detention house for now.”

“Twenty-seven people?” Tobin asked, “In one house?”

“I’m sure they’ve slept in worse conditions—” Rick brushed the concern off. They had suffered worse conditions. The barn even had been an upgrade before they found Alexandria. From the looks of Anne and her people, Rick was sure they would feel the same way.

“And after the herd and the Wolves?” Carter questioned further, not dropping it. “Where are we going to place all of these people? We have to at least give them three houses.”

Deanna had slotted two houses to them, so Rick thought three houses for twenty-seven people would be a fair one, as well. They still would have a hard time to settle into, just Rick and his people still did, but they needed to be careful with the supplies and with the accommodations as their numbers were closing on to one hundred mark. One hundred people. Alexandria was going to have to house and feed almost one hundred people from now on. It was a thought that worried Rick too, especially when winter almost was upon them, but it was a worry for tomorrow, not for today.

“Jessie stays alone in one house now. Perhaps she could move in with someone else, so we have another empty house,” Carter remarked. Rick wasn’t also the only one who was worried about the dramatically increased numbers. “We don’t have enough resources to spend in one house in that way anymore.”

It was harsh, but Rick bobbed his head. Her expression turned stiffer, Amanda though shook her head, her lips clenched. “She’s just lost her son, lying sedated in a sickbed in the infirmary. Do you want to tell her she needs to move out from her house, too?” Her lit emerald eyes turned to him. “Really?

“Perhaps moving out of the house would be better for her,” Rick tried another angle. Her house must have had a lot of memories for her now. Rick couldn’t imagine himself staying in the same house if he ever lost Carl and Judy. “Or else she could take people in,” he said for the last.

 “Rick’s got a point—” Denise cut in, supporting him. “The thought crossed my mind for Deanna, too. Making her have distance from what happened as much as we can. But her house is the house. It’s good for the people to know that the town has got an official government building. It makes them feel securer.”

“No one should feel secure until we dealt with those walkers outside—” Rick directed the drifting topic back where it was supposed to before standing up. “I’m gonna speak with Deanna. If any of you think of something for what to do with the dead, come find me.”

They all followed his example too, started leaving the lounge room. Rick waited for Amanda over the doorway. “Hey,” he called out to her as she stopped beside him. “Are you coming, too?”

He didn’t elaborate why he wanted her to come with him to see Deanna, but after giving a heavy glance, Amanda nodded. “Okay.”

They should be doing this together, doing everything together. If there was anyone who could convince Deanna to come back, if Rick failed, he knew it was Amanda. Even barely knowing him, she’d managed to talk to him to come back in the prison. Deanna needed her now, too.

He almost offered her to make the talk but as they crossed the main road, Amanda suddenly halted before they arrived at Monroe’s driveway. “Do you know what’s wrong with Daryl?”

Startled, Rick turned to her. “What?” he echoed.

“Before I saw him in the infirmary, he acted like an asshole toward Joan,” she explained, “And he didn’t come to the meeting—” She jerked her head at the community center across them. “Where’s he?”

“I don’t know—” Rick replied, a light frown pinching his eyebrows. “Daryl doesn’t like meetings. He must be checking on Anne and her people.”

Abraham and Glenn were at the guard with Heath, but Daryl might have wanted to make sure they were under control. “I think he’s still mad because he got caught in the woods. Can you talk to him?” she asked, talking rapidly.

Rick shook his head, not understanding the point of the discussion. “He’ll be fine. He’s just Daryl—” he replied, and his eyes searched hers. Amanda looked away. “Amanda, what’s this?” he asked, truly not understanding what was happening. She was both elusive and pissed, and that Amanda never boded well.

“He’s making Joan upset—” she mumbled, still looking away from him.

Rick frowned tighter, a part of him still not believing they were having this discussion. In the middle of all of the things, did she become worried about Daryl and Joan’s relationship? When they still needed to talk about her admission that she had wanted to move on, move on with him?

“Amanda, really—” Rick asked, his voice almost sounding bitter, “Of all of the things we need to discuss, do you want to talk about that? Now?”

Her eschewing attitude was gone as she snapped her head at him, staring at him in the eye, looking livid. “He’s behaving like a douchebag—” she hissed. “He needs to stop.”

His eyebrows furrowed deeper. “Why? Amanda, what’s happening?”

She let out a small breath, shaking her head, muttering something inaudible before turning back to him. “He’s gotta stop,” she repeated. “Joan is pregnant, Rick.”

Shock rendered him speechless for a few seconds, staring at her back before he managed to mumble out, “What?”

“I just learned when I went to the infirmary,” she replied in a small voice, supporting her back against the white fence in front of the driveway. “Joan told me after Daryl left. She wanted to go out to look for us, fearing she lost him. Carol stopped her just before we came back.”

“They just started sleeping together—” Rick mumbled again, even though it was a dumb thing to say.

Amanda must have felt the same thing as she gave him a look. “She said she missed her period and made a pregnancy test. It was positive. Pregnancy tests aren’t one hundred percent reliable, but she said she…felt it.” She paused, shaking her shoulder off, running her eyes away from him again. “I don’t know. Perhaps she did.”

Rick ran a hand over his face, swallowing thickly. A baby. His brother was going to have a baby. Rick was going to be an uncle. The notion terrified him as much as it startled him, but as soon as the thought entered him, he realized they weren’t still out of the woods, either, that Amanda still could get pregnant herself, too.

He suppressed a tremble, his scares skyrocketing with the last thought. He couldn’t let Amanda see his fears, having doubts again about them. Nevertheless, as if she still sensed them despite his best efforts, she was looking at him with that look again, like how she’d told him she wouldn’t have forced him to do anything if she was pregnant.

 Rick cleared his throat. “Daryl—he doesn’t know, right?” he asked to be certain.

Amanda shook her head. “No. Of course not. Even Joan learned a couple of days ago. She still needs time.” She paused, bowing her head. “And I’m not sure she would want to keep the baby if Daryl acts like this.”

Rick understood the words. “Did she say something?” he asked.

She gave another head shake, staring at the other side. “No. But I know Joan. She wouldn’t want to do it alone.”

“She won’t be alone—” The words left his mouth. “Daryl would never turn his back on his child, Amanda.” She bobbed her head, still not looking at him. “And there is us, too. We’ll always support her if…she decides to keep it.”

She nodded again. “Yeah. I know.” She paused, shaking her head again, muttering. “We were so irresponsible.”

Rick frowned, recalling her words to him back in the prison again. Because you were stupid enough to get her knocked up at the end of the world! Did she still think like that? That they all were idiots?

“Life goes on—” Rick replied, not knowing what else to say, not knowing what to feel. Amanda didn’t want to have a baby. Neither her nor him. It still scared him more than anything, more than the Wolves, even more than those hundreds of the dead out there. He must’ve felt relieved, glad that they were on the same page, but he just couldn’t, either. It was the same odd sentiment he felt after Amanda had taken the second pill.

“I’ll talk to Daryl—” he said, suppressing it. “I’ll—”

“Don’t tell him anything!” Amanda cut him off heatedly, turning her attention back to him.

Rick let out a sigh. “Of course not. I was going to say I’ll learn what’s happening, why he’s acting like an asshole. But—” He paused. “Regardless of her decision, Joan has to tell Daryl. He needs to know. It’s his baby, too.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

There was a pause between them, filled with their fears and things they left unspoken. Rick made a move to step in the driveway, pushing it back with everything else, but Amanda suddenly called out to him. “Did he know?” Rick stopped and turned aside to her, giving her a look over his shoulder. “Your partner…did he know too?”

Stunned for a second that she’d asked about that this openly, Rick stared at her. That was one of those things they had never talked about. Rick had told her what he had done, why had had to do it, and they had never talked about it in detail. He didn’t know why she’d asked this time, what had made her ask it, but as she did, Rick also realized he wanted to come clean. This wasn’t the best time, but perhaps there was no best time.

Rick walked back to her. “I don’t know—” he replied. “None of us did truly.” Not before Rick had learned about that damn blood test. “After Lori said it was mine no matter what, I told Shane that, too. It wanted to make clear where I stood. Lori was getting afraid of him. She told me he thought the baby was his, she was his. We talked. I told him the only way we still could live together was that he accepted the baby was mine.”

He paused with the confession, looking at her. They were standing so close now, inches apart from each other. With the words, Amanda's eyes softened, her green eyes turning lighter with golden lights as she nodded. She understood. Rick knew she did. “I’d just come back from death and found my family. I didn’t care what happened. Everything was going so bad between us before the outbreak, but when I found ‘em again, I felt like we were given a second chance. I didn’t care anything else.”

Making a hitched breath, Amanda nodded again silently. Rick swallowed thickly. “But Shane just couldn’t let it go, couldn’t move on.” He paused for a second again. “There was this boy we found around Noah’s age. Randall. He was with a group, bad people. It was their leader in the bar that I told you before.”

“We were discussing what to do with him. We didn’t want to let him go, afraid he would have led his friends to us, but we couldn’t kill him, either. Shane wanted to. And, I did, too.” He confessed with a sigh, shaking his head. “I wanted to, Amanda. But I couldn’t. Carl just saw me before I took the shot, telling me to do it. He told me to kill him.” He shook his head again. “I let it go, lowered my gun. Then Shane... He set me up. He killed the boy after freeing him, then told me he had escaped. We went to the woods together to look for him. Later, I understood what he’d done. I understood he was straying me away from the others to kill me. I kept walking. I-I just wanted it to be done.”

When he’d talked about that night to Lori, he couldn’t have seen her reaction, not until he felt her backing away from him, not until he returned and saw her eyes. The terrified expression over her face. There was none over Amanda’s, only a look of understanding and acceptance, and it felt like the absolution he always secretly craved for but never admitted.

“I just wanted him to act—” Rick continued, “So I could act. So I could have an excuse to kill him.” Amanda had told him he always had an excuse, so perhaps she’d been right again. “When he drew his gun, I threw mine away, told him if he was going to do it, he was going to have to kill a defenseless man. I told him we could go back together and forget everything. I told him we could start over. I told him…brother, it isn’t too late. We could come back.”

With his confession, Amanda’s eyes narrowed, hearing the truth, understanding what Rick had done. Nevertheless, Rick continued. He wanted to confess. It wouldn’t have changed anything, but he still wanted it. He sounded hypocritical, but he didn’t care, either. “Shane believed me. He threw his gun away. He hugged me. Then I stabbed him in his heart. There was no going back for us.”

He felt like he was digging his own grave now, but Rick didn’t want to hide himself anymore. He recalled his feelings when he had accepted Beatrice’s offer for dinner. If Amanda wanted him back, if she wanted them truly to move on, she needed to know. She didn’t only understand him, but also accept him for the man he was. A sonofabitch who could do anything to protect his family. A sonofabitch who could even stab a man in the heart after throwing his gun away.

She gave him another nod, then without a word, she turned and started walking to the white house. Silently, Rick followed her.

# # #

In the living room, they were sitting. The whole town was in an uproar, with the arrival of the new people his father had brought back together, but Carl’s thoughts weren’t on it. He didn’t care anything else than those walkers out there. Carol had told them returning from their meeting they were going to try to herd them up and move them away, but when Beth had asked her how the older woman had only answered; “We’re gonna think of something.”

So, sitting in the living room, they were trying to think of something.

Carl couldn’t still think of anything. “Your father says walkers are drawn to the life—” Clarice mused out, “Drawn to sounds, colors, smells, etc. Can’t we make some noise and gather them?”

Carl had thought of it, of course, but it wasn’t where the plan wouldn’t work. “We need to be close to them to do that. They’re spread out in the woods. When we draw them to ourselves, we also need to escape. If we’re doing it without a safety distance like how Dad wanted to do before, we would be surrounded by them.”

“Can’t we do it from afar?” Clarice asked.

“Glenn said Rick made him drive a sports car back in Atlanta when they met—” Beth spoke as Carl remembered the red old sports car Glenn had come to the quarry camp years ago before his father had emerged out from the other van. It was the best day of his life, but his attention wasn’t on it now, either. “Amanda said they also left Beatrice’s car in the roadblock," Beth said. "That car is a beast. If we drive it turning on the music, they would track it.”

That was what his father had thought before too, but it was still missing one crucial point. “Dad was going to do it, but we still need to gather the dead first before doing it.”

“So…” Clarice echoed. “We need to do it from afar with a safety distance and with having an escape route,” she surmised.

Both Carl and Beth nodded. “I heard military left some flares in the armory. Would it work?” she asked, her face having a contemplative look. “We can fire them in a place then leave it before they find it.”

Both Carl and Beth paused at the same moment again, turning to look at each other. Carl knew she was thinking of the same when a small smile broke over her lips. Clarice looked at them with a slight frown. “Terminus—” Beth muttered. “Remember what Carol said? Terminus was using firecrackers to herd up the walkers to move them in the woods.”

“What’s Terminus?” Clarice asked, her voice having the same frown.

“We still need a place for it. To bring them in. A place like Terminus. On a crossroad.”

“Can you tell me what’s happening?” Clarice cut in as Beth breathed out.

“Oh my god! Del Arno Foods!” she exclaimed. “It’s so close to the woods on the backroad.”

“And it’s got its herd, too!” Carl exclaimed as they both jerked up to their feet. “We gotta find Dad!”

Carl bent to take Clarice’s hand to move her up. She stood, giving him another look. “Are you going to tell me what are you talking about?” she whined, letting Carl head her outside.

“I’ll explain on the way.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “You just came up with the plan.”

She shook her head as Carl opened the door for her and Beth. “Glad to be a help,” she muttered as they left the house to look for his dad.

# # #

Amanda walked toward the porch, Rick’s words still faintly echoing through a haze of miss at the backside of her mind. She didn’t know what had made her ask him what had happened between his partner and him, asked him if the man had also known about Judith. It was a moment of delirium perhaps, or perhaps she was just too tired of this game.

She had never expected Rick to come clean like this, either, but perhaps he was tired, as well. The truth had shaken her, not what he’d done, Amanda had already known it, but how he had done it. Killing a man after he’d given up his gun… There was no turning back for us. I wanted them to move on, so I could move on, too. His words and her words mixed as they stepped on the porch in heavy silence, but before they buzzed the bell, his name ringed behind their backs again.

Amanda recognized it quickly.

“Carl?” Rick asked as he turned, staring at his son who was running toward them in the driveway with Beth and Clarice.

“Dad!” Carl shouted back. “Dad, we’ve figured out how to gather up the dead. We know how to do it!”

As the teenagers stopped in front of them on the porch’s steps, her mind silenced at the sudden declaration, her worries and conflicted emotions quelled. Her eyes skipped to Rick, sharing a glance with him as Carl continued. “Actually, Clarice thought it first, but then Beth remembered Del Arno.”

“Del Arno?” Amanda asked, thinking of the overrun food factory and the light switched in her, too.

The overrun factory swarming with the dead inside!

“You want to draw them to Del Arno?” Rick asked, reading their thoughts as Amanda did.

Carl nodded. “Yeah. It’s the best place, right? It’s close to the woods on the backroad. We can run away from the road after they started coming.”

It was a good plan. The factory had a tactical advantage, but the key element was still missing. “I suppose we can make some noise and try to lure them in. The cars have radios. If we can find loudspeakers—”

“We even have a better plan. Less loud, but shinier.” Beth cut in. They looked at her. “Flares! Clarice told us the armory has got flares. We can use them to lure the dead.”

What they had thought became clearer in her mind as Rick quickly pointed at the teenagers. “Find Olivia and learn how many flares we’ve got. And find out if anyone has speakers too. We still might need them. We have to talk with Deanna now. We’ll come back after and make a plan.”

The teenagers all nodded at the orders eagerly and started stepping down to go to the armory. “Guys—” Rick told them behind their backs as they halted on the steps. “You did well.”

Their faces pleased, shining with the compliment, they smiled at him and hurried down in the driveway. When they left, Rick shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.”

Amanda read the stark guilt in his tone and his frustration. She shook her head. “We’ve had a lot since last night,,” she told him even though she wanted to kick herself for not thinking on it, either. “Don’t be hard on yourself.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, his head snapped up at her, giving her one of his looks, keen, sharp eyes staring at her intently, and even though Amanda knew she had meant it, she didn’t know for what she’d said it. They’d been through a lot since last night, but he’d also been through a lot since he’d woken his coma. I—I kept walking. I-I just wanted it to be done.

Amanda supposed she knew that feeling. She recalled the dark dead-end alley and the way she had kept walking too before Rick put a light, almost tentative hand on the small of her back and nudged her toward the door. Pushing back her thoughts, Amanda let him. “C’mon, let’s go—”

Amanda buzzed the door.

The door opened a few minutes later. It wasn’t Spencer, but Reg. Amanda took it as a good sign. There was so much anger in Spencer now, even though the younger man never spoke of it, especially with them, Amanda could still feel it simmering in him.

They weren’t at fault for his brother’s death, he must have known it, but Spencer still held them responsible. She had tried to talk to him a couple of times when she came to check on Deanna. It didn’t feel right Aiden’s only remaining sibling felt like this toward them, she felt she owed it to her friend, but the door had closed on her face.

There was no anger in Reg; the old man was just sharing the same grief that had turned Deanna into a recluse. “Reg—” Amanda started. “We need to talk to Deanna.”

The man shook his head tiredly. “Denise tried this morning too,” he told them. “She still doesn’t want to come.”

“We need her, Reg—” Rick stated firmly. “We can’t do this without her.”

The older man made the way for them then, opening the rest of the door too, “Talk to her, but it wouldn’t make a difference,” he replied gravely. “She told me it isn’t her job anymore.”

“We’re gonna talk to her—” Rick said again with the same firmness, and Amanda knew the talk they were going to have the talk they had been avoiding.

She supposed it was the time too. They stepped in and climbed the staircase. Rick only knocked on the door once, the gesture still firm, before he only said, “Deanna, it’s us. Rick and Amanda. We’re coming in.”

With that, like that, he opened the door without waiting for an answer, without even waiting for her permission. She supposed it was Rick, too, still doing confrontations on his own time, not backing down when he put it in his mind. Just like he’d just come clean to her a few minutes ago.

Their talk skated over her mind briefly, but Amanda didn’t let it go further as they stepped inside the master bedroom.

It was bigger than their houses, and it wasn’t any news flash. Deanna’s house was one of the biggest ones in the town. But the spacious room wasn’t what had made Amanda halted in the doorway momentarily but the state of it. The whole bed was covered with maps, books, and drawings, all the stuff Deanna had usually used to keep on the dining table in the living room or her study. There was even a little square empty left on the mattress as Deanna sat on the covers, her back resting against the headboard, clad in her silk black robe.

She wasn’t still wearing any makeup. Her look made Amanda remember again how old she was, how small she looked in the kingsized bed. Deanna had been always emitting stability and power, even her presence quelled a lot of nerves in the town, but she sat in the middle of all the clutter she just looked like an old, small woman.

It hurt Amanda more than she was prepared. “Deanna—” Rick started, but she cut him off.

“I know why you came, Rick—” Her voice had that placid, serene timber when she spoke, a tone that briefly made them pause. It reminded Amanda of the woman they knew and when she looked at them shaking her head, Amanda saw the old politician again inside her eyes. “I have to admit. I thought you would’ve come a lot sooner,” she said, putting the thick book in her hand beside her. “I guess you needed time, too.”

They shared a glance, but Rick ignored her remark, starting to walk closer to her. “The Wolves attacked one of our safe houses. Amanda, Daryl, and I passed last night outside. Encountered another group. Twenty-seven people. We brought them in. The herd in the bowel is on the loose, too.”

Deanna nodded. “I know what happened, Rick. Reg told me.”

“The newcomers are waiting for the interviews—” Amanda cut in. “Can you start them? We shouldn’t lose time.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t,” Deanna remarked, staring at her openly. “Call in Denise and do it.”

Her words were less cryptic this time, and Amanda understood what the woman was telling them. “Deanna—”

She cut Rick off again, taking a drawing from the bed. Amanda recognized the expansion plans that she’d envisioned with his husband at the beginning of the outbreak. So did Rick. “Do you know what that means?” she asked them, pointing the Latin script below on the paper.

They both shook their heads. “It’s a verse from Ovid. A Latin poet. He’s one of Reg’s favorites. We study Ancient Rome a lot.” She paused again looking around herself. “After the military left, when we started drawing our plans, he put it below there. To remind me something.” She bowed her head to the map. “Perfer et obdura, dolor hic tibi proderit olim,” she intoned. “Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you.”

“I guess Ovid was talking about you—” she continued, looking at Rick before setting down the drawing again. “I thought I understood, but I didn’t, Rick. I do now.”

“Deanna, we still need you. Alexandria—” He stressed out. “Alexandria still needs you.”

“No—” she objected gently. “I did my job, brought you here. A good leader also has to know when it is time to step back and make way for the new. Even if he didn’t, it’s still gonna happen, you can’t rewind time; the new always triumphs over the old. It’s the only truth of life. Me…my beliefs…my views. They’ve got no place in this world. You tried to tell me, but I didn’t listen. And I paid for my mistake. I should’ve stopped Pete when you told me. When you warned me.”

“You wouldn’t have known—” Amanda insisted with a headshake. No one of them would’ve known, but Deanna continued as if she hadn’t spoken. Rick was silent beside her.

“I didn’t believe you.” The woman halted and shook her head. “No. I believed you, I believed you when you told me he was a disaster waiting to happen, but I didn’t believe in you. Because if I did, then I would’ve needed to renounce what I’d always believed. I’m too damn old to do that. But I do now, Rick. I do believe in you.”

Her words sounded like a succession speech, and Amanda almost opposed, but there was a look of acceptance over Rick’s face now. “We’re gonna still need you, Deanna,” he said slowly after a beat.

Deanna gave him a small smile, a kind one, not one of her poker face smiles. “I’ll be around. I’m not going anywhere. I’m just stepping down, having my retirement. But I can still be your advisor if you want me to.”

“We’d be glad to.” His utterance made Amanda slant a look at him, continuing talking in plural and Deanna didn’t even blink. They had been acting as de-facto leaders since her reclusion but that was different.

“What do you advise then?” Rick asked.

“First of all,” the old politician replied, giving him a look with a tired sigh. “Correct the damn board. I’m sure none has done it yet.”

A brief smile played over Rick’s face as he returned on his heels to leave the room, but Deanna called out to him before Amanda followed his example. When she turned back, Amanda saw the woman taking a paper out of her robe’s pocket. “Do you remember what I told you before?” she asked back, offering him the paper she was holding.

Rick walked back to her and took it. His head bowed, he looked at the paper, before muttering, “Death is certain, life is not,” he murmured as pocketing the slip inside his jeans. “Even now, it’s still correct.”

When they left the room, Amanda turned to him. “What was that?” she asked, but Rick, putting his hand against her back, this time firmly, moved her towards the study room. “I’ll explain later,” he spoke clearly. “Let’s correct the number first, then we call in a meeting. We need to discuss Del Arno.”

She gave him a look but let him lead them to the study. Inside, with decisive steps, Rick strode over the blackboard that was behind the desk. Amanda looked at the number on the board, seventy-one. Rick took a piece of chalk and erased it before he wrote down ninety-eight.

Done, he strode back to her with the same decisiveness, holding her elbow this time to move them out. “Let’s go.”

# # #

In half of an hour, they were back in the lounge room. Amanda wanted to have a moment to check on Joan to see how the woman was, she couldn’t have been again after leaving the infirmary and there was Jessie, too, she must have been woken up. Amanda needed to talk to both women, but there was no time.

They had to do this now. There was a part of her that still felt stunned with their talk with Deanna, what the woman had told them, what Rick seemed like accepting. The firm acceptance inside Deanna’s house was still with him, but Amanda didn’t know.

Rick could be a leader, but Amanda wasn’t. Whatever the other people saw in her, Amanda just couldn’t see it in her. She recalled herself telling Rick to stop doing it back in the prison when they first met.

Was she doing the same thing? Turning her back on her people when they needed her? How many times Amanda had felt it, felt failing the people she cared for because she’d refused to take the lead, how many times Beth had told her to accept it?

Why was it so hard to accept things even when she knew they were right?

It was another question she didn’t know the answer to. There were so many questions that she didn’t know the answer to. She didn’t even know why Rick had chosen today to confess to her about his partner. What was that special with today that her question suddenly made him stop hiding it from her? Was it because of Joan and Daryl’s baby or something else? The Wolves? The herd out there? Last night? How they had stayed out all night? What had happened?

“I know it sounds insane, but this’s an insane world—” Rick spoke, cutting through his confused bleak thoughts. “We get to them before they come for us. It’s that simple,” he continued, pointing the backroad where Del Arno rested its back in the map that they had settled over the table.

“One team stays here, guarding our escape route. We’re gonna have other teams at each direction, shooting up the flares to lure the walkers in.” They were having four teams in total, three having west, east, and north, the team at the backroad had their back on the south, the road that led toward them.

“We’re gonna have the RVs and Aaron bikes to manage this. The plan is quite simple. We spread out in a mile radius from Del Arno and start firing the flares and retreat toward the factory.” Del Arno also was standing between the quarry and Alexandria, so it was the best place to do this. She felt incredibly proud of Beth, Carl, Clarice being able to devise this plan, a surge of parental pride filling her in.

“What about the Wolves?” Heath asked, pointing out the obvious. “They’re gonna see the flares too. They might want to check it out.”

“Yeah—” Rick admitted with a nod. It was a security risk they’d thought, but sometimes they had no choice but to take the risk. “We’re gonna fight if we have to. We’ve got the numbers now. Anne’s people will come with us.”

It was Rick’s plan. They still hadn’t told it to the woman yet, but her people knew how to fight. Amanda suspected it was going to be Rick’s price to let them stay in the town. When the Wolves had attacked them in the woods, they had fought together, but this was something else. She still wasn’t sure if they could trust them that much outside, she still remembered Liam and how the man had played on her, but Rick had looked like he’d made up his mind.

“What if the Wolves see you in the woods and come for us,” Carter remarked, cutting through her musings too, “What if they attack us taking of the advantage? You’re taking almost all the capable fighters with you.”

The question surprised her as the question was a very astute, a very strategical one. There was one certain thing; Deanna had been right about the man. He might be a coward, but Carter Blake was smart.

That was the part that worried Amanda the most. The Wolves were so close to them now, and when they went out, it was a good probability that they might see them in the woods. Staying there where the walkers too were so much riskier than hitting a town you knew was defenseless.

 Their only advantage was that those animals still didn’t know where they were, but trusting their luck they wouldn’t have found out the town…well, it didn’t sit well with Amanda.

“We’re gonna leave a team behind to guard the town,” Rick admitted the possibility too. “If they find out we aren’t in the town and attack, you all are going to need to fight back. Del Arno is only eight miles away from us. We’ll also be in radio contact.”

The problem was who was going to stay behind. Her first thought was Daryl, especially after learning how worried Joan had become, even enough to leave the town alone to find them. Joan had never been like that and what she had almost done was enough to make Amanda realize how much Joan feared to have her baby alone.

And who wouldn’t?

A baby in this world?

The thought was in her before she could even stop herself, her fears, Rick's fears after learning Joan was pregnant. The fact they had stopped talking about was in the back of her mind, too, but Amanda was too tired, too damn confused to think about that right now.

She didn’t even know what they were going to do if Joan decided not to keep the baby? Did they have abortion pills in the town? Would Bob perform an abortion safely? The death rate from abortion had been almost as high as childbirth before the modern physic, losing so much blood in the process and afterward, the possibilities scared Amanda even worse. The questions rapidly fired in her. What if they couldn’t have a choice? Would they be forced to give birth? Would they bring innocent children into this world because they didn’t have any other safe alternative?

How they could be this irresponsible, this stupid!

Her pulse started accelerating, Amanda tried to stop herself, trying to get a hold of her anxiety. She was overreacting. She wasn’t pregnant. She had taken the pills. And Joan—if she decided not to keep the baby, they were going to help her. Even if the infirmary didn’t have abortion pills, they were going to manage something else.

But they couldn’t leave Daryl. Leaving him meant leaving their best tracker back at home, and Amanda knew they were going to need the man out in the woods.

Perhaps they could leave Abraham. He had been enough sober in the last days, but something didn’t sit well with her. Joan was going to stay, Carol was going to stay. Beth possibly would want to come with Heath’s team, but Amanda was sure Rick was going to leave Carl back in the town. Carl would take care of his baby sister and Carol would protect Mika, but—Shirewilt, and the piles of the mountains of the body parts and burned houses flashed over her eyes.

The vision almost knocked out her, imagining Alexandria becoming like Shirewilt, imagining Mika and Judy—she stopped the thought, couldn’t even complete it. Then it was in her, so clearly, so certain without a doubt. She didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay and protect what was the dearest to them as Rick went out to…slay the dragons. If they were a team like everyone thought of them, then they had to do it like this.

“When are you going to leave?” Amanda heard the question as if through a veil of mist, still taken aback by her realization and her acceptance.

“Next morning—” Rick answered. “We go out today and close the intersection on the backroad. We’re gonna take the plates and trucks we used to reinforce the quarry. Then we go out at the dawn.”

“It’s impossible to do it in one day—” Carter opposed like he usually did, but Rick answered firmly.

“No, it’s necessary.”

After Rick’s adamant answer, it took them another hour to divide the teams and decide on the tracks leaning over the maps, and each time Amanda stayed silent. Funny enough, Rick also hadn’t chosen her to lead a team too. Whenever they went out, they usually teamed up together. He had even admitted that he felt safer when she held his back. His confession brought her a little bit of guilt, leaving him alone to do this without her, but he would understand.

Hell, he would even feel relief.

When everyone started drifting away after the meeting, he turned to her. “We need to talk with Anne before we left for the intersection,” he spoke in plural, not even asking this time if she wanted to come with him or not like he had done before they went to see Deanna.

Holding back a sigh, still avoiding that talk, Amanda nodded. “I need to check Joan and Jessie too. But yeah, let’s go see her first.”

They left the community center together again and headed for the detention house silently. “Are you sure if this’s a good idea?” Amanda asked, slanting a look at him. The silence had started getting on her nerves, and she still had qualms about this plan. There was also a part of her that found the fact that someone else, another woman was going to cover Rick’s back while Amanda stayed behind very disturbing. It was worse than her usual jealousy toward Beatrice, something more profound.

“No—” Rick answered placidly. “But I prefer them at my sight than staying behind in the town. I’ll keep her in line.”

The words made her throw him a glance as she grunted under her breath. “Well, you can still try to have dinner with her if it doesn’t work…”

She almost even added it wasn’t something he hadn’t done before, but suddenly Rick caught her elbow and turned her toward him again. His eyes were lit when he gazed at her. “Amanda, there’s still only woman, only one woman I want to know better enough to take out to the dates. And it’s not her.”

Her eyes turned to him fully as he went on, “And about that date—” The door suddenly opened behind them and Anne appeared in the doorway, interrupting him.

“Rick Grimes—” the woman called out to him in a clipped voice. “Putting us on surveillance isn’t a good, benevolent host behavior.”

“I’m not your host, Anne—” Rick shot back curtly, lifting his head toward the woman as his face stiffened. Schooling her features, Amanda did the same. “Neither I am benevolent. I told you. If you want to stay with us, you’re gonna need to make an effort.”

Anne smiled at him in that enigmatic way. “Don’t worry, Rick, we’re gonna earn our keep.”

Amanda frowned, hoping she hadn’t done a mistake pushing Rick to bring them in. The deal then was made quickly. A bit too quick, but Amanda guessed they didn’t have any other option either.

She separated from Rick and went to check on Joan and Jessie. The woman was still sleeping, sedated, but Joan seemed better. She briefly recounted what they’d talked about in the meeting and the plan the teenagers had managed to come up with. Joan swept a look at her, before asking with a small voice. “Daryl—he’s going out, too?”

“Rick’s gonna need him outside,” Amanda admitted. “He’s the best tracker we’ve got.”

Stiffly, Joan nodded, not saying anything else. “I’m gonna stay, Joan—” The words left her without hesitance then, seeing the woman like that erasing her last setbacks. This was where she belonged. She had to stay and protect her people. “Everything is going to be okay, I promise.”

The rest of the day passed in a haze. They went out first to the quarry and returned to close the intersection. The woods were close to a nightmare, and they had managed to do it, because like Rick had said, it was necessary. The things people could do when they put their mind on it. When they returned, Amanda knew it was time to talk to him. She couldn’t postpone this. They had to do this before he left in the morning.

Inside the house, she looked for him, but he wasn’t around. Carol told him he’d taken another watch on the third platform so dutifully, Amanda left the house and went out to find him.

#  # #

After they returned from closing the intersection on the backroad, there was only one thing left to decide. Who was going to stay in and protect the town?

His preference was quite obvious, but Rick had been dodging from the talk waiting for them since they left Deanna’s house. After her remark that he would date Anne to get closer to her, Rick had become close to come clean for that, too, even confessing data mining wasn’t his intention when he had accepted Beatrice’s offer, but their talk was interrupted when Anne came out.

He couldn’t find her alone after then, so he’d taken a watch on the third platform that gazed at the woods and went up to stay cool and let his thoughts and emotions settle down.

It was a busy day. The meetings, his confession then their talk with Deanna, the woman telling them they should lead the town. Together. Rick didn’t want to escape from it anymore. Hershel’s words had echoed in him during the whole day, yelling at him to come back and lead them because they believed in him, mixing with Deanna’s admission that the woman was stepping down because she believed in him, too.

A part of him still didn’t know what kind of belief he had managed to inspire in people, but perhaps his words to Vatos back in the days were the stark truth. They trusted him simply because they could.

So, Rick had gone and corrected the board.

He just wished Amanda could have seen it and did what she’d advised him before; stop running and accept that people needed her. It wasn’t only because Rick wanted her to stay in, no. Not even close. Rick wanted her to stay and protect their family because she was the only one who could do it.

Rick was about to call in Daryl to take the watch from him to go look for her, but to his surprise, Amanda found him on the top of the platform before he did. Her jacket was zipped up to her neck as the wind blew her half ponytail in the air. Rick’s hair was blowing in the wind, too, and Rick stared at her silently as she came beside him at the platform’s edge and supported herself against the guardrails.

“It’s still so silent—” Amanda mumbled, gazing at the darkness ahead of them, the woods barely visible. She leaned over the rails tightening her shoulders against the chill as Rick did the same beside her.

“Why did you tell me what had happened with your partner, Rick?” she asked after a while gazing at the dark without mincing the words.

Rick didn’t either. “I wanted you to know.”

Amanda shook her head. “No. You misunderstood me. Why you did do it today? You didn’t tell me about Judy until you got cornered, kept me in the dark it was you who first threatened Pete Anderson until Jessie outed you. Why did you tell it now?”

“I don’t know—” Rick replied, couldn’t find a clear answer. “I just didn’t want to hide it anymore.”

“Then why did you even hide it in the first place?” she asked directly again.

Holding the railings, Rick bowed his head. He stayed for a second, looking below the dark abyss beneath their feet as Amanda simply waited silently beside him. “I was scared of losing you,” he confessed finally, lifting his head aside to look at her as he did. “I thought if you learned what had happened, if you learned it was me who had started it, you wouldn’t have wanted me back. I didn’t want to shoot myself in the foot.”

She shook her head, letting out a grave, deep sigh. “So what changed now?” she asked again. “Why did you want to come clean?”

Walking closer to her, the confessions rattling him, Rick looked back at her. “And why did you ask today, Amanda? What changed now? You don’t even mention Lori’s name aloud. Why did you want to learn if Shane knew it?”

She swallowed, her eyes widening, taken aback by his sudden assault as Rick realized she didn’t know the answer, either. Rick had become wiser to her defense mechanisms and that stunned, startled widened eyes expression over her face told him that he’d caught her unexpected. He shook his head again as his fingers went to the bridge of his nose. There was a headache coming to him, a very bad headache and it wasn’t because of the wind in the heights.

“We should stop throwing stones at each other…” he muttered, bowing his head, tiredly rubbing his nose.

“I didn’t come here to fight—” she bit off.

His head lifted to her again. “Then why are we fighting now?” he asked, staring at her. “I haven’t been the most open person in the world, yeah, but even now you’re still holding yourself back.”

“Oh, were you expecting me to throw myself at you because you confessed you killed your partner even after he lowered his gun and you stabbed him in the heart! Oh, excuse me! The thought didn’t cross my mind!”

“No!” he snapped back, lunging at her closer. “But I wish you opened up to me a little, tell me your secrets, too! I wish you at least trusted me enough to tell me what happened with that drug dealer and how you killed him!”

She flinched back as if Rick hit her, truly looked shaken now. Rick shook his head. “W-what do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, Amanda. Drug dealers don’t end up in the dead-end alleys followed by cops without a reason. You even got suspended after it and Dawn pulled the strings to get you back. You told it yourself.”

Dawn had been manipulating her since the beginning, clearing her name just to get her in her pocket. Rick could see it now even clearer. As rough as her shell was outside, Amanda hid a fragile, sensitive part inside.

Rick just wished she’d shared the story with him, but she shook her head, and Rick saw her eyes sparkling in the dark with unshed tears. “I—I came to talk!”

“That’s how you start a conversation?” Rick asked, leaning in over her. “Trying to pick a fight all the while throwing accusations in the air?”

“I wasn’t trying to start a fight! I just asked a question. But I guess I hit a sore point,” she sneered. “Didn’t I?”

“You still haven’t told me what happened with the drug dealer and Dawn,” Rick encountered. “I did hit a sore point, didn’t I?”

Suddenly she was on him, her hands shoving his chest roughly. Rick skated backward as he stared at her. She shoved another time, hitting his chest. “Sometimes I really wonder why the fuck I fell in love with you, asshole!”

 Rick stopped, holding the guardrail, stopped moving, stopped even breathing, but only lifted his head and stared at her, everything freezing around him, couldn’t even feel the wind or the cold. Amanda looked the same, too, standing motionless in the middle of her act as her hand stopped in the air to shove him again before her confession cast her to stone.

Rick stared at her, and Amanda stared back at him with those widened shocked green eyes. Rick collected himself the next second, starting to salvage the situation before she withdrew completely.

This certainly wasn’t anything how Rick could’ve ever fantasied even in his wilder dreams how Amanda would tell him she loved him, they were usually in the bed, Amanda under him, and Rick was inside her slowly stroking himself in her depths, but hearing it from her lips… I fell in love with you.

 “Amanda, baby—” He dashed at her, raising his hand, but as if his voice broke her sudden stupor, she jerked away, moving away from him.

Rick stopped. “Stop—” She muttered, shaking her head. “Just stop.”

“Amanda—” He tried another time, but she cut him off again.

“I can’t do this…I just can’t.”

His heart started beating in his ribcage madly, recalling the last time she’d uttered those words to him. Just before she had asked for a break. “I—I just came to talk,” she said again in a whisper.

“Okay-okay,” Rick made another move, trying to calm down his erratic breathing. “Let’s talk.” He touched her forearm lightly, tentatively. “Just talk.”

She raised her head, not pulling away from his touch, looking at him, but her eyes had turned colder. Her face had that cool expression, closed off. His heart skipped a few beats again.

“I’m gonna stay tomorrow morning,” she stated with that placid voice whenever she went to her ice queen persona, expressionless like a block of cold marble. “Someone has to stay in as we talked in the meeting. I’m gonna do it.”

Then without a word, without a look at him, she turned and started climbing down the ladder.

The next morning as they left the town, she was nowhere to be seen.

Notes:

I finally made them have this talk, getting Rick to talk about Shane openly, because that has been always one of my main aims for this story, getting Rick to confess how he had killed Shane another time to the woman he loves. So, it had to happen. I still remember myself writing the last scene like million times, having quite a crisis working on it, then Rick and Amanda picked a fight, even without me really meaning it, ugh.

I finally made Deanna's reappearance too, and made Rick correct the board, yay! I like this kind of symbolism in the narrative, and Deanna passing the mantle onto them, so to speak. I'm not done with that, either, Amanda will have a talk with Deanna, too, in the next chapter, because the poor girl needs it desperately, a real mentor, a mother figure.

*It's necessary* is a line from Interstellar. The main character from there, in my opinion, is like Rick's lost brother, hehe, and I can just imagine Rick uttering those words, too, in that context.

We're getting very close to the end. Hope to see you the next time. Ciaociao!

Chapter 49: 'Don't forget. Rome wasn't built in a day.'

Summary:

After Rick leaves Alexandria to deal with the herd spread in the woods with the others, Amanda contemplates her life, her choices back in the town before deciding to make the first interview for the new arrivals and finally making a visit to Deanna.

Notes:

I felt very motivated for this chapter, as this is Amanda's chapter, so an earlier update. Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Their breaths were swirling like thin fingers of mist in front of them in the chilly December morning. They floated between the trees and brushes, sliding like ghost snakes in the air. The air felt uncanny, adding the early morning hours even a more sinister ambiance. It had rained sometime before the dawn so the undergrowth beneath their feet was still moist, a blessing as Anne saw it even though there was a cold but mild wind.

Although she had accepted in the end, Anne still thought what they were going to try to accomplish was one of the craziest, the most insane plans that had ever thought of mankind. Lighting flares in the middle of the woods? To convene the dead. If she strained her ears, she could hear the reason for this madness in the distance; faint snarls and growls echoing in the wind. They had already encountered more once in large numbers and crept back to the tree lines not to spook them.

Grimes looked tense as his left hand held the flare gun, his face carrying a forlorn but determined expression. When he had told her they were going to need to make an effort, Anne was aware their staying wasn’t going to come cheap. Anne was okay with it. Nothing came free. She was ready to pay the price.

For now.

She darted a quick look around. They were spread out around each direction of Del Arno Food Factory. Anne hadn’t seen the establishment before. They had always kept away from it, knowing the Wolves run a business there. She had surveyed caravans with pickups and military jeeps coming and going a couple of times. The men who drove the vehicles hadn’t made Anne feel any better with the group, so she had stayed away. Liam had been a fool not to see that, and he had paid for that mistake.

The thought briefly brought if she was making a one too, flicking another look around herself but shoved the suspicion away out of her mind. She had done her choice. The rest they were going to see. Something was happening. Anne could feel it in her bones. Times had changed, but it was changing again. There was a stir in the north, whispers she had heard while they wandered in the wastelands, a name uttered in terrified, shaking whispers as people they had encountered ran away for their dear lives.

Something was on the horizon. When it arrived, this time Anne was going to be ready. There’re only two kinds of people in the world now. The ones who take, and those who are getting took… the words echoed in her. The rule of the new world.

Take whatever you can and give nothing back.

Her eyes moved again, toward Grimes and his people, and their guns before her gaze returned to her weapon that the man had given to them before they left the town. Anne liked the feel of the gun in her clutch, the cold touch of steel, and the weight of it. It had been a while.

They were in the northern parts of the factory. The other sergeant had taken the west. One of the leaders of the supply teams of the town was covering the east as the rough tracker that Anne had captured in the woods secured the factory’s backroad. Adding the two RVs, the tracker had also brought a bike. Her people had been distributed to each team as Anne came with Grimes.

They were a team of ten that stood with him in the tree line. Afraid of an attack, they had also left another squadron capable of fighting in the town, and by judging who wasn’t with them right now, Anne knew who was leading that group.

Shepherd. The police officer that Liam had set up. The same one who also had convinced Grimes to take them in two nights ago.

Anne wasn’t stupid. She was very much aware that that night Rick might have left them behind after the attack. She had fully expected it and was very surprised when it hadn’t happened. Then Anne had seen Grimes putting his jacket on her shoulders as she was trembling in the cold night air with only her shirt. The gesture was small, but it spoke in volumes. They had a thing going on, although Anne couldn’t decide its extension and depth. Was it only an attraction or something more?

Anne had expected the woman to come with them, but she apparently had decided to stay behind. That didn’t look like the woman Anne had seen in the safe house. The Amanda Shepherd she had seen two nights ago would have been there today. Yet, she wasn’t, and more importantly, she hadn’t even come to see them at the gate before they left.

That spoke in volumes too. Anne had caught Grimes checking the gate, his eyes wandering, searching before his face became so forlorn, so sour, it looked like stone. His jaw clenched so hard while his fingers tightened around his ax until his knuckles turned to white, it reminded Anne of feral wild animals that readied for an attack. Then as they waited for preparations to finish, he suddenly turned around and stalked back toward his house.

For a second, Anne couldn’t have believed what she saw. She had blinked a couple of times, angling herself for a better sight, but what she had spied was correct. Rick Grimes was picking flowers from a flowerbed that they had left untouched in their garden. Quickly grabbing a few colorful winter flowers before tying them into a small bouquet with his red piece of cloth, he trotted to the other house with the same but decisive pace.

Anne had no idea what to make of it but when he joined them at the gate again, his hands were empty. It was that second Anne had understood to whom that bouquet was meant for. Shepherd. He had gone back and picked flowers for her when she didn’t show up, which also meant they were at odds. Though it still didn’t look like it worked, because Shepherd still didn’t show up even after the affectionate, apologizing gesture.

Their thing seemed to be a tumultuous one, which was better for her plans. Not that Anne had any yet, but a torrid love affair always made things easier than an established relationship.

Grimes reached to his handheld radio. “Be careful with the flares—” he warned in harsh yet clear tones, his face now completely stoic. “When they drop on the ground, make sure to stub them out. We don’t want any fire in the woods.”

That Anne agreed wholeheartedly. The last thing they needed was a fire in the woods that would turn into an epidemic. The other teams agreed as she heard the simple ‘aye’s from the radio. “A’right—” Grimes said then. “All teams, count.”

“Bravo is good to go—” came the response from one of the other teams. Anne quickly recognized the Texan accent.

“Charlie is a go,” came another, quickly followed by the tracker’s rough tones over the cracking static. “Delta is a go.”

Grimes held up the radio again. “Base, respond.”

Anne expected to hear Shepherd’s clear, placid tones, at least she would do that but instead heard another feminine, but anxious voice telling him everything was okay. Anne darted a sideways look at the man and saw his voice getting stonier further. She held her smirk inside. His flowers hadn’t really worked out, Shepherd was still no sight.

Good, all too good. Men looking for affections but denied made the easiest marks. He wanted her to show effort? Well, he had no idea what he was asking for. But he would learn, in time, he would see.

His hand with the flare gun rose in the air, and Anne got ready, tightening her grip on the gun’s butt further, liking the cool sensation even more. “On my mark—” he spoke, “One-two-mark.”

The guns flared, leaving red dust of smoke before their trajectories rocketed up. The next second, the sky above their heads started painting red.

# # #

Amanda watched them leave the town from her window in the attic. When she had woken up from her restless sleep at the crack of dawn, she knew it. She wasn’t ready to face Rick yet. It had felt just the safest option after last night, having space and distance they both needed, but a big part of her had already started to feel bad for staying in the room like this, not even saying goodbye before they left to do something very, very stupid again. She didn’t want to do it, but she just couldn’t see him yet.

She didn’t even know how their talk had spiraled out of control as she had ended up cursing at his face all the while psychically attacking him and confessing that she had fallen in love with him. They were wrong for each other. She was wrong for him, and this was just another proof. Normal people didn’t confess their love in a yelling match, calling the person they loved an asshole. Normal people also didn’t blurt it out of blue then pretend they hadn’t said it for months. Another woman would have confronted him, not played along, too.

No matter how much she tried, how much she wanted to be with him, she just couldn’t do it. She had just gone to talk. She had been wondering about it the whole day yesterday. Their talk had carried away after he learned about Joan’s baby or was it something else? She knew he’d been right, his questions had hit a sore point, too, when he challenged her back. And why did you ask today, Amanda? What changed?

Why? Why she had been wondering about it? Why had she wanted to know everything even when she knew she wasn’t going to like what she would hear? Amanda was no fool. She was already aware that what had happened between him and his partner was bad, something Rick didn’t still want anyone to know, just like Amanda didn’t want anyone to learn what she had done in that dead-end alley, perhaps even herself. Drug dealers don’t end up in the dead end alleys followed by cops without a reason.

Yeah, not without a reason, and that was also Rick, who always came up with excuses for his behavior even when he said he didn’t try to justify his actions. But it was still better than the alternative, losing all your compassion, empathy, your all humanity? That can of worms had become so tangled in her, Amanda felt like a kitten who had become trapped with the yarn she was playing with.

She had just wanted to talk, dammit! So…so they could move on? Life goes on, his words resonated in her. The cheesy words sounded so damn easy when you said it, but the reality was far from it.

Her eyes darted up toward the sky, toward the new winter sun. It was a new day, yet it felt so old like nothing had changed. His confession that he hadn’t told her because he was afraid of losing her made her feel a bit better, hearing that he had been as afraid as she was for losing her, but it still didn’t change what had happened. What they had done.

Amanda had never felt proud of what she had done even though she never regretted it. There was even a part of her that felt relief like she had confessed to Lizzy knowing that the bastard wouldn’t have hurt anyone anymore. Wouldn’t have left any child fatherless again.

Amanda moved away from the window after they vanished in a cloud of dust and early morning mist and looked at the cold room, feeling the chill. Even under her quilt, Amanda had felt it alone in the bed. When she had started to pass the nights with Rick again, Amanda had forgotten how cold it got in the bed without him even with Chinny curled up against her after the heaters turned off in the late hours of the night for saving their resources. Hushing her first thought, Amanda focused on the second one, which was a stern reminder of the responsibilities she had. She needed to get herself back together. She had wanted to stay, so she needed to do her job now while Rick did his.

After tidying up the room, Amanda picked up Chinny from the bed to head downstairs. When she pulled down the ladder with one hand, the other curled around her kitten, suddenly something fell on her head in a swirl of colors. Startled, she leaped back as Chinny leaped out of her elbow.

Amanda gazed down, her heart suddenly missing a few thuds as Chinny poked the flowers on the floor in front of her feet with her nose. She felt her eyes prickling as she knelt slowly and picked the bouquet. There wasn’t any note inside, but Amanda didn’t need it to know who had left it up there.

Swallowing through a big lump in her throat, Amanda stood up and went to her round table beside the window. Taking the vase on the top of it, she quickly filled the vase with her water bottle and put his flowers inside. Her mind skated back in the time and remembered the first time he had given her a flower. The single wildflower she had kept inside her pocket before it got ruined with her blood when she was shot at Grady. She remembered how her drugged mind finally relaxed in his arms as Rick whispered to her that she was safe, carrying her to the cell next to his.

Having a deep sigh, Amanda left the attic. Outside, she didn’t let the turmoil of her emotions steer her from what she had decided, though. She had work to do.

Rick was doing his. It was her turn now.

She first made a tour, checking every watch platform to make sure they were manned and protected properly. The next she dropped by the armory to ask Oliva if they had made any contact. Oliva answered positively. Rick had contacted half of an hour ago to notify them that they were commencing the plan.

Taking the last handheld radio from the armory, Amanda left the place. She raised her head to the sky outside, trying to catch a glimpse of redness on the horizon but the clouds were limiting their sight. She headed to the third platform which had the clearest sight of the woods but even up in the heights, she couldn’t see anything. She grabbed the guardrails of the platform, her eyes surveying the woods that laid ahead of her, looking for a sign, looking for redness, looking for…anything.

She saw none.

“It looks so peaceful up from here, right?” Beatrice asked beside her breathless, her eyes fixated ahead too.

Amanda turned to the other woman. There was an awe expression over the woman’s face, a stupefied look unlike the worry and distress how Amanda had. “Sorry, you know, this’s my first time—” She waved her head in the air vaguely, catching Amanda’s look at her. “All of this…It still takes off my breath.”

Returning her gaze to the woodland, Amanda nodded. “I know.”

“I’m still glad to be here, though,” the woman continued chatting in her usual breezy ways. “Feel myself…useful.” 

As they didn’t want any of Anne’s people patrolling and guarding the perimeters and Rick had taken all of their patrol and supply teams out with himself, Amanda had turned to her cadets that had made the top spots of her list that Rick had put on the wall of the lounge room and had stationed them on the watch platforms in groups of two. Beatrice’s teammate was Maria who stood at the other edge. The woman wasn’t on her list admittedly, but Amanda knew better than to leave the woman back in the house when Beatrice, perhaps surprising even herself, had accepted to go up to take a watch.

Aaron and Eric had taken the second platform as Eric had decided to stay in and also wanted Aaron to stay with him. Rick had conceded, probably because he wanted her to have Aaron in the town. Tobin and Carter took the first platform at the east, staying in the town as well and Spencer manned the bell tower. Amanda gave the platform over the main gate to Steve as for the last, Nicholas guarded the main gate.

Nicholas had become her senior officer, although his arm was still in bandages. He had told her he could still fight with one arm if she was leading. The words had made her chest constringe as Amanda could only bob her head, swallowing forcefully. She had convinced Carl and Clarice to stay back as Beth had left with Dylan but let them patrol the grounds. In total, they had six teams and twelve people to guard and protect their home.

This was what she wanted, protect Alexandria, protect their home, but as she looked ahead to the woods, she still felt the strain, the anxiety of staying behind and waiting worse. Amanda had always been a person of action. She hated waiting. It was the damn feeling she had appropriated since her childhood, waiting for something bad to happen, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It tensed her even worse now, making her feel like a stringed bow. She had thought she needed to stay back, but even before the hour ended, she started to reconsider her decision.

The story of her life, really.

A bitter sound almost left her as she shook her head at herself mentally. Calling back her determination, Amanda left Beatrice to enjoy her newfound feeling of usefulness and headed to Denise. Sitting idly, in waiting was going to turn her mad if she stayed put, so she better followed after Beatrice and made herself useful.

Deanna wanted them to make the interviews, even though Amanda still felt doubtful of the process, she could at least start a quick survey. They needed to learn the new arrivals’ professions the most if they had any engineers, mechanics, doctors, or even farmers among their numbers. Joan and Bob still needed practice, Rick needed more people who knew about growing crops and plants, and sure as hell, the town needed more engineers and mechanics.

Even with the supplies in the town and military had left behind, Alexandria was still a nightmare of maintenance. Deanna’s reluctance to spread them over the town’s massive grounds was a well-known fact in the town, born out of a stark fear of burning out their resources. It was the same reservations that Amanda felt now, too.

The therapist shared a house with Olivia and Shelly, and as Amanda waited on the porch for the woman to open the screen door, the thought occurred to her. Perhaps they could move in Jessie with them. Olivia had a good rapport with the townspeople and living with Denise might be better for the mourning woman.

“We talked with Deanna yesterday—” Amanda stated as matter-of-factly as possible when Denise opened the door. “She wants us to do the interviews.”

Her words were still vague, but Denise’s eyes were inquisitive. “Well, I was expecting this for a while, to be honest—” the therapist commented after a while, the questioning eyes still on Amanda.

“Anne left Enid in the town,” Amanda replied, deflecting the unasked question. “We can call her to the lounge room and talk with her.” The interviews usually were done in Deanna’s house how like they had done theirs, but Amanda couldn’t see herself going there and doing it. Even though Amanda had accepted to give it a try, she still knew she couldn’t make an interview in Deanna’s living room.

Aaron was up on the platform, so Denise and Amanda went to pick the young girl from the detention house. She was together with a couple of seniors that wouldn’t fight and a kid younger than Mika. Their existence made feel better Amanda for the group, at least they were people who didn’t leave behind their old, sick people and kids, even when it meant the group needed to pull their weight. Amanda still knew it didn’t guarantee the peacefulness of a community as the worst community they had encountered so far was Terminus who had a lot of old people that wanted to turn them to barbeque. Furthermore, allowing defenseless people into your numbers didn’t also mean everything was okay. They had had old, sick people at Grady, and Amanda could still remember Percy’s tears and Noah’s bruises whenever she allowed herself to think about those times.

Hushing the swirling thoughts in her mind, Amanda focused on the fifteen years old girl in front of her. She was the silent type, choosing not to make any interaction with them as they had returned to the town from the safe house. She had walked beside Anne during their whole trip, keeping her distance with a placid face. Though, she had never complained, did what Anne had asked of her. Amanda made a mental note to ask Carl and Clarice to give her a tour in the town after her interview finished just like Deanna had asked Jessie to make Clarice and Ron do it for Beth and Carl.

“Enid, we need you to come with us,” Amanda announced gently but placidly in the detention house.

From where she sat against the wall in the living room’s alcove just beside the tall window, watching the town, watching the guards they still had outside, her eyes returned to them, and she gave Amanda a wary look before she clipped in a tight voice that disregarded her kind approach. “Why?”

“For your interview—” Amanda answered, still keeping her tone placid, kind, and civil, but making it a bit firmer this time. “We’ve mentioned it to Anne. We interview all new arrivals before the probation time starts.”

“Anne didn’t tell me anything—” her flat reply came, her dark brown eyes darkening and narrowing.

 “She was having a busy day as you might have noticed,” Amanda remarked, keeping her tone still amicable to break the ice between them and to get the girl out of her defense mode. “They will have theirs too when they return.”

Her tactic didn’t work. Enid’s face was as impassive as before, her eyes cold and dismissive as she turned her head away from them. “I want to wait until they come back.”

“Enid, we’re just going to ask a couple of questions—” Denise cut in, but the teenage girl snapped her head back at them.

“I don’t want it.”

Amanda almost told her it wasn’t optional, but mandatory for all new arrivals, but instead still tried to find another angle that wouldn’t get her at odds with another teenager. She had had enough of it for a lifetime.

“We record the interviews for the transparency—” she explained as Deanna had done months ago. “Yours will be recorded, too, and if you want, we can show it to Anne after they return.”

The girl’s dark brown eyes narrowed again. “Why do you even want to talk to me?” she hissed, and she was clearly upset now although Amanda couldn’t be sure of the reason.

But she still explained dutifully; “We profile the newcomers for the job assignations. We do it so we can determine your capabilities and figure out how you can contribute to the town.”

She had hoped the girl’s wariness would have lessened after her explanation, but the girl just sent her another glare. “And what if we don’t have any?” she snapped. “What if some of us don’t have any capability that would earn our keep?” Her tone turned to a sneer. “What if I’m just a fifteen-year-old girl? Are you going to throw me out?”

Her face shifted as Amanda replied flatly, “We don’t throw people out here without a reason.”

“Then why do want to know about my capabilities?”

For a brief second, Enid’s anger felt familiar. It was an assessment they were doing, to determine how a person could fit in the town and contribute to it, but Amanda could still remember how she felt too seeing herself classified when she had seen Deanna’s dossier at the dinner party. Was she going to do the same thing now, too? Classify people in priorities? Determine if someone had any talent that made him or her more important, less expandable than others?

There was a part of her that knew it was needed. Although it still made her angry and anxious, Amanda couldn’t deny the necessity of it. “Because we need help—” she answered the question with what she knew from the bottom of her heart. "Keeping the town on its feet is a constant, continuous effort,” she went on. “We need every hand on board.” She paused and added, too, “And if we know what you’re lacking, we can also train you accordingly.”

The assessments didn’t always classify people in bad examples. For a good training program, you also had to determine each trainee’s starting point so you could place them in the classes accordingly and also could measure their progress. Without it, any training would have turned into a useless chaotic mess.

“Have you ever heard of polyvalence tables?” Amanda inquired, trying to explain it better, trying to make sure to the teenage girl that she wasn’t going to classify her just for the kicks of it.

Intrigued, the girl this time shook her head. “It’s a schema to define the levels of competence,” Amanda said. “I’m the training officer of the town. I assess our people and create the training programs.”

Her words made Denise shoot a sideways look at her, but Amanda didn’t react. Her intrigue increasing, Enid stood up from her corner. “Okay, let’s do it.”

After that, they moved to the community center and Amanda began the first interview. The camera was on the record, and Enid was still abstained at first, but then started answering their questions a bit less tense.

Amanda learned Anne had been an artist before the outbreak, making sculptures just like Beatrice. The discovery admittedly startled her as Amanda couldn’t have guessed the enigmatic woman used to be in arts. They didn’t have any doctor or engineer among their numbers, but there were a couple of mechanics and blue-collar workers, and Brion had been a rancher. They didn’t have animals in the town apart from Chinny and the ducks in the pond, but Amanda still felt they would try to start putting up their livestock at least from the wild animals in the woods just like Rick had done in the prison. There were also a good number of farmers with them, which reminded Amanda one more time how easily city folk and other white-collar professionals had fallen to the dead while the farmers, ranchers of the rural parts of the country, and blue-collar workers had survived.

“I’m gonna send Carl and Clarice—” she remarked for the last as they finished the interview. “They’re both around your age. They can give you a tour in the town.”

Enid shrugged in the same disinterested way even though she wasn’t as cold as before with Amanda. Denise escorted her back to the detention house as Amanda made another tour around the town, waiting for the therapist to return.

There were still a few issues that needed to be discussed and when they were back to the lounge room, Amanda didn’t beat the bush. “Moving out Jessie…” Amanda broached the topic. “Do you really think it’s a good idea?”

Amanda still had her doubts, even though she saw the advantage and necessity of it. Moving her away from her memories would come good to Jessie; a change of scenery and Carter had been right too: They didn’t have enough resources to spend in that way. It wasn’t only Jessie, either. Lauren stayed alone with her daughter. The Johnsons’ lived alone with their adopted granddaughter. All the other houses had two or three adult people, and Amanda knew they had to make a change in that if they wanted to make a serious effort to pool their resources and avoid another unrest in the future.

“Everyone reacts to trauma differently and mourns in his own way—” Denise answered slowly. “Deanna chose to lock herself in her house, silently mourning her son. We can’t know for sure how Jessie would react after she passes the first stage, perhaps she would go with denial, or anger, or right in depression before she comes to acceptance—” she went on, “But I would say if she learned she’s moved out of her house, she would feel punished, ostracized.”

“And do you still think we should do it?” Amanda inquired then a bit confused.

Denise nodded quickly, with a certainty that made Amanda even more confused with the suggestion. “She’s different than Deanna. Their circumstances are also different. Reclusion means for Deanna to revive her son, their good days. In a way, she’s saying goodbye. She told you she’s going to retire, right?” the therapist asked.

Amanda gave her a confirming nod. “As I said, I was expecting this for a while,” she continued. “Moving out Deanna would be cutting off her transition time to the next step in her life. Jessie, I’m afraid, doesn’t have that kind of future projection ahead of her and her circumstances make things more complicated for her.”

 “I thought of her moving her in with you,” Amanda confessed, understanding and accepting the therapist’s point, but her point hadn’t changed, either. “But it’s not only her, Denise,” she tried to explain. “There are other people that live alone or just couples in one house. If we did this only for her, she really would feel punished. But if we’re serious about our efforts to save our resources, we can’t let like go on this.”

Denise nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. You’re right. This way she wouldn’t feel punished, and group support would help her.”

“I thought to move in Lauren with you, too.” The therapist’s eyes lifted at her. “She also stays alone with her daughter,” Amanda went on. “Like Johnsons, and Aaron and Eric. We have to do this for all.”

“I see—” Denise replied after giving her one of her assessing looks like in their sessions, searching, then continued after the brief pause of consideration, “This needs a council session. We prepare a proposal about accommodations and housings, then talk about it.”

“But as for Jessie and Lauren—” Denise went on after another from Amanda. “They aren’t on the good terms. After Deanna expelled Dave and his people, Lauren started…uh…spending time with Dr. Anderson. They’re cross with each other since then.”

It took a few seconds for the words to sink in, realizing Beatrice wasn’t the only woman Pete Anderson had shown interest in. Amanda wondered if the asshole was a womanizer, too, had ever cheated on Jessie, and Jessie had looked the other way for that. Somehow the notion made sense now.

It tired Amanda, but she briskly bobbed her head again. “Okay. We keep them apart. How about Aaron and Eric then?” she mused out. “Jessie moves in with you, Lauren goes to them.”

Denise shook her head. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea, either. Lauren is a traditional woman, still carries some of her old views, I’m afraid. She never speaks out loud as she tries to keep them under check, but we can’t make her share a house with a gay couple. It would be very weird for her, and Aaron and Eric wouldn’t be happy, either rightfully.”

Amanda felt they were going to have a lot of headaches when they tried to relocate the housings. This kind of stupidity was one of the things they had been trying to stop the townspeople to make since they arrived in the town, but people were still people no matter what. In time, Amanda hoped they were going to be able to put an end to this, but right now Denise was right. With so many things going on, they didn’t need any dramatics. They were going to deal with it later after Rick and the others returned.

Her last thought suddenly startled her, her acceptance, as if she had already decided to run the town with Rick. Had she?

Her eyes darted and Amanda slanted a sideways look at the therapist. Denise was the town’s acting leader since Deanna had abstained from her duties. She had remarked today she knew this was going to happen, that Deanna was going to retire, and it seemed like she was okay with it, them running the town. Amanda wasn’t still sure if the rest of the council was going to accept it as easily as her even when they fell behind Rick to deal with the herd outside without a fuss.

“Perhaps we could ask Johnsons to move in with Aaron and Eric—” Denise cut in over her musings as Amanda returned her attention to her. “They’ve always had a good rapport, and Johnsons are a fairly liberal couple. Aaron and Eric enjoy their company. That would earn us at least two fewer houses to pass the winter.”

Heating systems were the most problematic installation in all facilities and utilities in the town as it was solely depending on the solar panels without another power source now but wasn’t designed like this. Despite what the commercials and ads promoted to sell the project; Alexandria wasn’t one hundred percent eco-friendly. Before the outbreak, the town had still been using the electricity from the city grid. Without that power, Deanna had had to cut off many utilities to run the town’s necessities but each year with the limited supplies for maintenance turned it harder to get them fully operational.

Making another mental note to learn more about the infrastructure and utilities, Amanda stood up. “I’ll talk to Jessie.”

“Be careful. She still wouldn’t like it—” Denise warned her. It wasn’t needed, Amanda already knew she had a hard climb in front of her. She had had to break the news of the death in her time in the force a couple of times and dealing with mourning relatives was never easy. She prepared herself for it and leaving the community center, she crossed the main road to get to the infirmary.

Joan was out on the porch, on a break. Amanda halted in the doorway, looking at the woman. She wondered if Joan had talked to Daryl before he left, but something was telling her the answer was no.

“Is Jessie awake?” Amanda asked instead, her hand on the screen door’s handle. “I need to talk to her.”

Joan gave her a brief nod. “Yeah. She is. I didn’t put her back to sleep after she woke up in the morning.” Amanda nodded back. “Have they made a contact?” Joan questioned.

“Yes—” she replied and passed her what she had heard from Olivia, too. “Rick called in an hour ago before they started.” Her eyes moved up toward the sky, looking for a sign again, a glimpse of redness before she returned to the other woman. “They must be doing it now.”

Amanda had been trying her best not to think about it, trying to deal with the town’s stuff instead, because whenever she did, something still strung in her chest, making her almost run to the main gate and go out after them. Go after him. Even before their fight, Amanda had known she wasn’t going to like the feeling, being here while Rick was out there without her, but this was worse than she had thought. In the back of her mind, she wondered if it was the same feeling that had almost made Joan leave the town to look for Daryl, afraid of losing him. If something happened Rick—

His words flashed in her mind suddenly… you would’ve lost me there and Jessie’s followed from their last conversation. It’s easier for you to speak. You didn’t lose anyone. You would’ve lost me there. You would’ve lost me there. You would’ve lost me there.

Amanda tuned out the words on the repeat. Nothing was going to happen to him. He was going to come back. Rick always did. Even a deadly coma in midst of a deadly outbreak hadn’t managed to stop him.

Swallowing hardly through her tight throat, Amanda stepped inside the infirmary. Jessie’s eyes narrowed when she saw her approaching. “I should—” the woman spoke in bitterness, her voice nothing but a low hiss that croaked out of her throat. “I should’ve never trusted you.”

“I didn’t want things to be like this, Jessie—” she answered, stopping at the foot of her bed. “No one of us did.”

“Of course, you didn’t—” Jessie replied flatly. “You only wanted to help, didn’t you?”

“I know you’re upset—” Amanda started, but the woman barked out a maddening screeching burst of laughter.

“UPSET!” she screamed back at Amanda. “I’ve lost everything! Everything! More than you can count! I lost my husband! I lost my child! My son! My only child! Even Deanna still has her family, her husband, her son! I have nothing! Nothing!” She sent her another a seething glare that was as acerbic as her words. “You can’t even begin to imagine how I feel!”

“Jessie—”

“You’ve NEVER lost as much as me!”

Anger swept at her edges, even though Amanda had been expecting something like this, but running their losses like this? The people they had lost. This wasn’t a competition, but real people in flesh and blood. People Amanda still felt their loss so starkly in the bottom of her heart.

She shook her head, her shoulders squaring. She could almost feel her muscles strain as her jaw clenched. “I’m not going to measure my losses with yours—” she clipped as she tried to reign over her anger.

“You couldn’t do it even if you wanted—” Jessie croaked, her eyes as cold as ice. “You can’t. You’re not a mother. Rick’s children…they aren’t yours.”

The words were meant to hurt her, Amanda knew, and it was her grief and her anger speaking, although what she had said was still true. Amanda wasn’t a mother; she didn’t even have one. Despite how much she loved and deeply cared for Judy and Carl, she wasn’t their mother. Amanda would’ve never known how a mother would feel losing her child.

“I know you’re in pain—” she tried again, holding on to her cop persona, trying to find herself a balance, a safe place. She shouldn’t have come here. Denise should have done this, not her, perhaps even Rick, but not her. She wasn’t like this. She wasn’t cut for this.

Jessie suddenly turned on her side, pulling her legs to her chest before her tears started flooding her cheeks. “You can’t know how I feel—” the woman muttered, shaking her head.

 “You should stay away for a while and put yourself back together—” Amanda continued, trying to keep her voice professional. “Denise offered to take you to her house. We’re gonna transfer you to her house.”

Her crying ceasing, Jessie’s head whipped at her. “What?”

“You’re moving out of your house—” she replied in the same placid authorial voice. Her qualms had quenched completely after seeing the woman like this. Jessie couldn’t stay alone in her house. It wasn’t good for her.

“NO! NO!” Jessie yelled back. “You can’t! It’s MY house.”

Amanda shook her head. “It’s not good for you.”

“You can’t throw me out! You—”

“We are not—” Amanda responded firmly. “We’re just moving you to another house. We’ve got new arrivals, twenty-seven more people. We need to rationale our resources. We can’t use one house for one person. We’re also relocating Lauren into another house. She can’t stay alone, either—” she continued, trying to make her understand it better. “Johnsons’ are going to move in with Aaron and Eric. It’s not only you.”

 Her logical words didn’t settle her down, but the woman became only more aggressive like Denise had warned her.

“NO! NO!” she screamed and lunged from the bed toward Amanda in a swirl of whiteness.

“You’ve taken everything from me!” Her hands clawed Amanda’s face in the middle of her screams. “You can’t! You can’t do this to me!” Her nails scratched her eyes and cheeks before Amanda grabbed her wrists and pushed her away from herself. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!”

“What’s happening here?” Joan screamed, rushing to her side as Amanda struggled with the demented woman, trying to hold her away from herself as Jessie kept assaulting her with her screams; “YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!”

“Sedatives!” Amanda shouted at Joan, twisting her face aside as Jessie clawed her face again. “I HATE YOU! I HATE Y’ALL”

“JOAN!” Amanda yelled as the other woman ran to the closet and came back with a syringe in her hand. Amanda stabilized the trashing woman with difficulty as Joan took her arm. Jessie still fought with them for a couple of minutes, her screams mixing with her feverish hatred words and curses before she turned limp in their arms.

Expelling a deep breath, Amanda eased the woman back on the sickbed. “What happened?” Joan asked again as Amanda straightened up.

Amanda shook her head, trying to quieten the screams that were still echoing in her ears. “We’re moving her out of the house—” she explained in a flat voice, her eyes moving the limp figure on the bed.

“I see.” Joan paused for a second, looking at the sedated woman too as Amanda stood above the bed like a statue. “Go now. I’ll keep her calm.”

Bobbing her head without another word, Amanda left the infirmary. She toured the town again, checking the platforms then somehow her feet brought her back to their houses. When she opened the screen door, Judy’s soft cries and a catchy baby song drifted out from inside. They aren’t yours.

Amanda jerked her head, shooing away the words. Judy was playing on her blanket on the floor, her toys and Legos scattered around. She picked Gummy Bear that they had found her for last as the toy turned around her singing its catchy song while Judy clapped her hands along with the upbeat music, bouncing and cackling with happy laughter. Mika was coloring a book on the other side of the room and Carol was watching outside from the window.

The older woman turned to her as Amanda walked into the room. She silenced the singing toy before asking, “Is there any news?”

 Amanda sat down on the couch as Judith threw her arms up toward her when she saw her. Bending, Amanda scooped up the baby girl. “Yeah. They called in. They started.” She settled Judy on her lap, holding her one tiny hand with hers.

Judy babbled out a maaammammamam sound in a long string, her hand raising toward her hair, twisting in her arms, and rested her chin on Amanda’s shoulder. “They won’t call again until they secure a corridor to move them away. Until then, no news is good news,” Amanda went on, her arms wrapping around Judy’s back and her hand stroking the baby’s back. She didn’t know if she was trying to soothe down herself or the baby.

Judith made another sound, trying to climb further up over her shoulder. “Maa—” she cracked, her tiny fist tangling in her locks. Amanda wasn’t her mother, but Judith was never going to know her mother, just like Amanda had never known hers.

She remembered Carl’s feverish desire to return to the prison to retrieve his mother’s photo so that his sister would have at least known how she looked like, and how Michonne had almost sacrificed herself to get it back before Amanda had even known them. Was she failing Judy now too?

You can’t know how I feel.

Amanda knew how she felt now. She felt like a failure. She was failing everything. She couldn’t help Jessie. She couldn’t stop Aiden’s death. She couldn’t stop Ron, caused him to his death. Even Rick was out now, risking his life for them again while another woman protected his back. Amanda hadn’t even said goodbye to him this morning but hid herself in the attic.

She made a low sound, quickly put Judy down, and rushed out of the house before her tears started to leak, her emotions overflooding her. Outside on the porch, she tried to calm down herself. She shut out all her thoughts and began another tour. It was the third tour she had made in a few hours, and her people were looking at her oddly now as she checked the watches and lookouts, but she couldn’t stop herself.

She checked the main gate first, stopping to have a quick debrief with Nicholas. “Hey, what’s up?” he asked when Amanda stopped beside the platform as Nicholas’s eyes moved to the handheld radio at her belt. “Any news?”

Amanda shook her head. “No, just came to check.”

Steve Malkin shouted up from the platform, “Any news?”

“Nah. She just came to check—” Nicholas shouted back, returning to her with a smirk.

Amanda almost smiled. Rick and the others had taken the other handheld radios with themselves as they needed them outside more, but so they had a shortage of communication in the town. Amanda had one attached to her belt, and Olivia was at duty at the base station in the armory, but the others were blind.

She checked the other platforms again then, even thought of cracking up the news to Aaron and Eric to see what they thought of it, but it wasn’t time for that. First, they also needed to talk with the rest of the council, a part of which was on the second platform too. Amanda skipped that from this round and went up beside Beatrice and Maria to have another look. There was still nothing to see on the horizon, nothing to hear. She cursed at the clouds above their heads.

She muttered under her breath, Beatrice and Maria looking at her funny looks as Amanda went up to the bell tower for the last, but she still couldn’t see anything, even at the highest viewpoint.

As the wind cracked at her face, she almost climbed back and ran to the armory and called him. She just wanted to do it, hear him, hear his voice. Tell him. She had to tell him. She had to tell him that she hadn’t meant to start a fight. Tell him she was sorry if she had disappointed him. Thank him for the flowers. But the most, she wanted to tell him she needed him to come back to her.

 But she couldn’t do any of those, so she climbed down from the nest, ignoring the looks Spencer was giving her. On the ground, she found Carl and Clarice. Swallowing hardly, Amanda tried to pull herself back together.

“Any news?” Carl asked as soon as they saw her.

Amanda shook her head. “Why don’t we see anything?” Clarice asked, looking up at the sky. “Del Arno isn’t that far away from us.”

Eight miles, to be specific; it was eight miles away from them, and yes, they should have already seen the flares as it was the whole point of the plan. Shutting down the other sinister voices in her mind in doubt, Amanda reasoned with them. “It’s the clouds. They cloak our sight. If something happens, Rick would have already made a contact to warn us.”

She knew her words were also true, not just placating. If something had happened, if something had gone wrong, they would have already heard it. Even they had lost their handheld radios amid the chaos, The RVs still had the built-in radios. But if they had lost even the vehicles—

Amanda cut off her bleak musing and tried to be reasonable, not afraid, “It’s our advantage—” she pointed out. “If we can’t see the flares, the others can’t, either.”

It was a long shot as they didn’t know where the Wolves were exactly, but it was still better odds. “I interviewed Enid today—” Amanda went on. “The teenage girl with Anne. I told her you can give her a tour around the town. Can you pick her up?”

Clarice’s face soured immediately. “We’re on duty right now. We can’t babysit anyone.”

Amanda’s eyebrow arched at that. “I’m not sure if she needed anyone to babysit her,” she replied. Enid looked like she could carry herself just fine, but Carl shook his head too. “Clarice is right. We don’t have time to make a welcoming tour.”

“Well, then go fetch her to join the patrol—” Amanda tried then.

As disinterested as Enid seemed, Amanda also felt some bitterness inside Enid during their talk so perhaps patrolling with Carl and Clarice would make her feel better. Anyways, it was better than to make her sit in an empty house alone with a kid and an old woman. Not letting them in the patrol teams was a point that the whole council had agreed, but a little bit of patrolling wouldn’t hurt anyone.

She wriggled her hand at the teenagers. “Go now. I’ll find you an hour later.” They still didn’t move. She fixated them with a hard look. “Are you going to make me repeat myself?”

Their shoulders squaring, they both gave her brisk nods. “No, ma’am! Yes, ma’am!”

They scurried off after that hurriedly toward the detention house, and Amanda let out a sigh. Standing alone in the middle of the town, Amanda knew what she had to do. The time had already come, perhaps had even passed.

Heaving another deep sigh, Amanda headed to Deanna’s house.

“I need to speak with her—” Amanda told Reg shortly. Nodding, as if he had been expecting of it, too, the older man stepped aside without a word to give her way.

Straightening herself, calling back her determination and reserves, Amanda went upstairs and knocked on the master bedroom’s door. “Deanna, it’s me. Ama—”

“Come in—” her answer cut off her words even before she finished.

Deanna was still how they had left her, surrounded by her drawings, notes, and books in the bed. She still looked forlorn, but there was wonder over her face as she watched Amanda slowly traipsed into the room. She still looked old, though, so old.

The woman looked at her straight in the eye as Amanda stopped at the foot of the king-size bed. “I started the interviews today—” she informed the older woman in a clear voice. “A fifteen-year-old girl,” she went on. “She stayed in the town. We interviewed her in the lounge room. Denise and I.”

“Good—” Deanna replied, bobbing her head. “It’s good. I knew you’d do it.” She waved her hand to gesture Amanda to sit down.

Approaching closer, Amanda settled herself at the edge of the bed gingerly. “Did you?” she asked in a small voice this time, lifting her head.

Deanna nodded. “Yeah. I knew,” she answered with ease and asked, “What else did you do?”

The question startled her as if the woman also knew her plans, and perhaps she did too. Amanda started explaining. “We need to combine the houses. We’ve got too many houses for so few people living in. We can’t go on like this. We’re moving Jessie with Denise, Olivia, and Shelly. Aaron and Eric will move into Johnsons. The council—” She stopped, looking at Deanna again. “Uh-we formed up a council after you…uh…do you know it?”

Deanna nodded again. “Denise mentioned.” Her clear blue eyes found Amanda’s. “She said you wanted it.”

Amanda ran her eyes from the woman, from her inquisitive eyes. “Yeah. Everything was in chaos—” she muttered. “We needed something to run the town.”

“Of course. I’m not surprised, Amanda—” Deanna commented. “If I thought Rick and you wouldn’t manage it, I would have never left, you know.”

Her head snapped at the woman, and Amanda shook her head, almost bitterly. It was all lies, even now she was being lied to, manipulated. She couldn’t see the end of it, but she knew there was one, how she had suspected each time Dawn did something for her. Amanda couldn’t have seen it then clearly, but now she did.

Even helping her to get back into the force had born out of that. Dawn had always helped her because she wasn’t her successor or anything, but she was her pawn. Amanda didn’t know her plans, but she had an educational guess. The woman was going to use her as bait at best or her double agent in the mob at worst. Amanda had been always a pawn, a damn SP-W.

She let out bitter laughter. “Rick, perhaps, but not me. Don’t even try to deny it. You want me to balance Rick because I somehow manage to reach him, and we all know it’s mostly because I’m sleeping with him.”

Deanna gave her a look. “I thought you broke up,” the woman pointed out as if talking to a child.

Amanda shook her head, her eyes lit, anger finding her again. “I know what I am!” she bit off. “I saw your file—” she continued flatly, looking back at the woman in the eye. “At the dinner party we stole the guns, I broke into your study—” she confessed not caring anymore. “You classified me as SP-W, even made a footnote: in affiliations with RG! I saw it!”

Despite all of her anger, confession, Deanna smiled at her, a small brief smile, old but kind. Amanda’s eyes narrowed as Deanna jerked her head toward her vanity table. “It’s in there. In the first drawer. Go get it.”

Amanda stared at the woman. “Go on,” Deanna urged her further and repeated. “Go get it.”

With another suspicious look, Amanda stood up and walked to the vanity table. She opened the first drawer and as Deanna had said, the files were there. She brought them out and trudged back to the bed. She left them on Deanna’s lap before she sat back at the edge of the bed. Deanna started shuffling through her folders and when she brought one up and took out the paper inside it, Amanda knew to whom it belonged.

“Go on—” she urged Amanda again. “Look how I classified you, Officer Shepherd.”

Raising her hand slowly, Amanda took the paper. She saw it at the first look. At the top of the paper, where she had seen SP-W before, the marking had been crossed over, and just above it, another marking had been done in big, thick red letters: FP-W.

Amanda stared at it. “I changed it after I saw you with the townspeople in the meeting the first time after you found the herd and I certainly did not do it because you’re sleeping with Rick,” Deanna told her. “Sometimes it takes a while to see what lies beneath. Sometimes we all let appearances fool us. But truth always prevails in the end.” She pointed to the marking. “You have it in you, Amanda. People see that even when they don’t understand. They trust you. They listen to you just like they listen to Rick.”

She shook her head. “No—”

Deanna cut her off, “Aiden saw it at the first glance.” Her eyes whipped up at the woman. “My son…” Deanna went on with another affectionate smile. “He was such a pain in the ass sometimes, but he always had good intuitions. He saw you even before I did. He trusted you, believed in you. It’s time you start doing it, too.”

Feeling her eyes prickling, Amanda shook her head again. That wasn’t her, it just wasn’t.

Suddenly Deanna grabbed her hand and took it between hers, giving her a hard squeeze. Amanda looked at the woman behind a mist. “Believe in yourself—” Deanna whispered fiercely, straightening up in the bed and leaning closer toward her. “Believe in each other. You can do this.”

“I don’t how…” Amanda mumbled, not even knowing what she was exactly talking about.

Deanna answered her as if she did, “Rick loves you so dearly. Do you, do you love him?”

She couldn’t lie, so she nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. But—”

“Then trust that, too. Love perhaps can’t conquer all, but it makes everything a lot easier.” She paused, squeezing her hand again. “It makes life worth living for.”

Amanda let out a sob-laughter, swaying her head side to side as Deanna dropped her hand and rested herself back against the headboard. “We always fight…” she mumbled. “Even when we don’t mean to.”

“That’s not so bad—” Deanna commented.

Amanda’s head snapped up at her again, staring at her. Deanna let out a sigh this time too. “Every relationship has its ups and downs. Reg and I… We haven’t been always like this. We even almost divorced before we had Aiden. We were fighting a lot. Reg was wanting us to focus on our marriage, have a baby. I wasn’t ready. I was at the beginning of my career and a baby would set me back. I didn’t want it. It took us a while, a lot of fights, a lot of heated arguments, and a few years of couple therapy before we managed to work things out and establish our footing again. You know what our therapist told me when I told him we always fought, even when we didn’t mean to?”

Deanna gave her another soft, kind smile before she answered her question, quoting herself. “That’s not so bad.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t understand it first, either—” Deanna continued when Amanda let out another sob-laughter. “I mean, fighting is bad, right? But he told me, fighting in a relationship also expresses willingness for better communication, but not knowing how to do it properly. He told us the worst thing happened when a couple stopped even fighting. Became indifferent to each other, neglect each other. When they stopped caring even enough to fight.”

Amanda laughed this time earnestly. “Are you trying to say that fighting constantly is good for a relationship?”

“No—” Deanna replied, again like talking to a child. “I’m saying it’s good that you still care about each other enough to fight. You can work out the rest along the way as long as you want it.” She paused for a second. “Ah, here another gem. The first necessary bit for a lasting relationship…” she intoned like a therapist, “—is wanting to have one.”

“It really sounds something like a therapist would say,” Amanda retorted with a sigh.

“Yeah, I think I may have found my call in retirement,” the older woman jested. “I may be a counselor with Denise.”

Amanda uttered out a breath. “Yeah, God knows we’re gonna need more of you with all these people joining us.”

Deanna rested on her pillows further. “Well, it’s your thing now.” She searched Amanda’s eyes again. “You said in your interview you wanted to leave a better legacy to our children, just like me. A place where they can live without fear, without hunger, without the dead. Nothing has changed with that yet.” She pointed at her drawings, notes, and books surrounding her in the bed before passing a thick hard-covered book to Amanda as her eyes spied the title; written in big dark letters on the hard leather cover: Architecture and Culture in Ancient Rome.

Deanna leaned over her, reaching out to her hand again. “Don’t forget. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“I will work for it until my last breath—” the words left her easily, sounding like an oath, as Amanda looked at the book. And they were. Amanda was going to work for it until her last breath. A better world for her family; without fear, without hunger, without the dead.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save Aiden,” she blurted in a whisper, her eyes misting again., lifting her head from the book. “I miss him every day.”

It was another confession that had made her breathe easier. Even with the limited time they had spent, Aiden had become her friend, one of the few she had ever had and had failed. “I know. Your eulogy,” Deanna replied, squeezing her hand. “He would’ve loved it.”

Nodding for the last time, wiping her unshed tears from her eyes, Amanda stood up. “Thank you. Thank you, Deanna.”

“For what?”

“For believing in me even when I didn’t.”

As she left the master bedroom, feeling the woman’s eyes on her back, Amanda recalled how she had felt in the prison months ago as she cut her hair, staring at the woman in the mirror’s reflection. Her hand touched her half ponytail and with a quick move, Amanda caught the elastic band and snitched it away, letting her hair fall over her shoulders. Like a movie trailer, all the times they had spent together passed in front of her eyes, watching TV together, cooking together, playing with Mika and Judy, out in the training field with Carl and Beth, Rick kissing her and taking her in his arms as they read together in the bed. Stroking himself inside her gently but passionately, whispering to her it was them.

A warmness blossomed out of her chest, out of her heart, and spread over her body, until to her fingertips. When she opened the door and stepped out on the porch, she lifted her head to the sky and smiled.

The clouds were still there, but Amanda knew it was going to be a good day.

She started climbing down the steps and stopped.

A man was standing in front of her in the front garden, his filthy face covered up until his eyes with a dark filthy bandana, his greasy long hair falling over from his forehead hiding the rest of his face, but not enough that Amanda missed the black W mark on his forehead.

Her hand jerked to her hip on reflex at the same time the man raised his, and Amanda saw a flash of red in his hand as she unlinked her holster. In a brief second that felt like eons their eyes caught each other before Amanda leaped in the air, throwing herself away from the porch as the explosion thundered around her, enveloping everything into flames.

Notes:

So yeah, as a general rule, as Amanda released her hair again, shit needed to hit the fan, hehe.

Needless to say, I've been waiting for this chapter, making Amanda and Deanna have this talk for a long while, and finally, it happened. Her first interview is like her first time asking the questions to Aaron toward the end of the first book, another rite of passage for her. I also wanted someone like Deanna to point out to her relationships aren't always rainbows and flowers as Amanda has got this childish notion that they have to be as she thinks herself she is not fit for one, and tell her to 'believe in yourself'. Rick's belief in her is very important, but in the end, Rick is the guy that she's sleeping with. Hehe. Deanna Monroe is a role model, so to speak.

So anyway, we're really into the last phase of the story; Jessie having a real breakdown which will really test Amanda, especially after telling Amanda Judith and Carl aren't hers and The Wolves attacking the town, still managing to catch them unawares even with all the preparations they made and Anne's having her first doubts for what kind of crazy people she ended up together with. Haha. I'll admit; Anne is a feat to write, hehe.

Hope to see you two weeks later, ciao ciao.

Chapter 50: 'The Wolves are gonna learn it too'

Summary:

When the Wolves attack Alexandria, Amanda and her teams will need to defend their home as Rick and the others outside will make a choice.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Flames.

They were everywhere.

And screams.

And hot, it was so hot. Amanda felt hotness licking her and she could smell gunpowder and gasoline in the air, filling her nostrils and then burning through her lungs. She crumbled into a long string of coughs as she tried to move her limbs. They felt so listless, heavy. Her ears were ringing, the world was spinning, and it was so hot, god, it was so hot, so hot, so hard to breathe that she felt suffocating in scalding heat. Her shirt under her jacket had clung to her chest and her pants felt like a second skin and her whole body, her every inch was aching, throbbing, and someone was poking needles inside her eyes. She closed them as the world swirled around her, and felt disorientation in the pit of her stomach, her insides retching with each burning hot air she inhaled.

There was a part deep inside her that screamed at her move—and Amanda knew it, she knew she had to move, now, but her limbs weren’t still listening to her will. Snapshots passed through her stupefied brain, the man with the bandana raising his arm… she recalled the moment, the way she flew in the air as the air around her took aflame.

Move! The voice screamed at her behind her closed her eyes again. For a second, she felt she returned to the prison again and Rick was carrying her after her surgery as she tried to come to in his arms. This time she knew she wasn’t in his strong muscles arms, and the hot, smelling surface beneath her wasn’t his tone muscled chest. She was lying prone on uneven earth, and through her eyelashes, as she rapidly blinked she could see a hot redness and smokes around her.

Move! Save yourself! Save them! The voice ordered her again, gathering her strength, Amanda forced herself to open her eyes fully. The questions blinked in and out of her consciousness as she dug fingernails in the hot ground beneath her and started crawling away from hotness. Her eyes focused on her hand as she fisted it into the ground, her dark hand, covered with soot and filth. When she managed to raise her head a few seconds later, a sheer red light almost made her blind, but through the smoke and a red haze of mist, she started making the ghastly figure of the still burning, half-demolished house ahead of her.

There were many sharp wooden pieces and glass shards around her, beneath her, digging into her skin as she crawled on the scorched earth. She was in the middle of burning wreckage. The porch had exploded with the half of the downstairs, and she was laying down in the ground a few yards away, thrown off with the after effect of the explosion. The entrance of the house looked like an open mouth of a dark cave, flames licking at the edges. The rest of the house was still burning.

Her mind still had trouble registering what had happened, shock creating mind confusion and blocking her basic motor functions turning her into a slithering snake on the ground, but the Molotov cocktail that smashed at the second floor zipped her back to reality.

“Deanna!” she screamed or tried to, her voice coming out like a rough, rasping hiss in another fit of coughs as soon as she opened her mouth and smoke filled through her throat. “D-Deanna! Reg!”

Stumbling to her feet, Amanda tried to stand up with difficulty. Her head was turning even worse now with her movements and doubling down, she was hit with another fit of cough, making deep grumbles while she retched acidic stomach fluid. She staggered and started falling back, but stopped herself, resting one knee on the ground. She had to go inside the house and find them, but she couldn’t even manage to stand up and through the open mouth of the burned entrance, she could see half of the stairs were burning too. Amanda had seen demolished houses in Shirewilt but she’d always thought they were burned with Molotov cocktails. How the fuck Wolves did come in?

Later. They were all questions for later. First, she needed to get up.

Get up and fight! Rick’s words from the barn months ago reverberated in her, and fisting her hand on the ground, Amanda started to stand up. They were under attack. She needed to get up and fight.

Every muscle in her body hurt when she started to wobble toward the house, her leg worse. It was only then Amanda noticed there was a sharp shard of split wood from the blown apart porch stuck in her left hip. It was in the mass of fat, so bracing herself for pain, Amanda grabbed it and yanked it out, supporting herself on the burned remains of the porch and went inside the house. She didn’t know where the animal who had thrown a fucking dynamite at her, but if Amanda found him…no, when Amanda found him, he was going to wish he had never seen her before.

“De—Deanna—Reg—” she screamed through her coughs. Smoke was worse inside the house with flames. She raised her arm against her face to protect herself, half of the ceiling dripping liquid fire on her. It was an inferno, so hot, so fucking hot, but Amanda also knew it wasn’t only flames either. She possibly had burns but there was so much adrenaline going through her veins that didn’t let her feel the extent of her injuries, like the wooden piece stuck in her hip.

She needed to find Deanna and Reg. She needed to save them.

God, please! She needed to save them!

“Deanna—Reg—” she tried to shout again passing her hand over her face, the greasy oily soot running to her eyes with her sweat worse, hurting them worse. Her sight diminished almost to nothing after that, smoke and soot practically driving her blind. Her hand grabbed the railings to stabilize herself as she took her piece of cloth from her back pocket and wiped her eyes with it before tying it around her mouth.

The fire was less on the second floor although Molotov cocktails continued to smash at the walls. The animal who had done this must be still outside, raining fire down upon them. As Amanda had been nothing but a slithering snake down on the ground until she had managed to get inside, the man couldn’t have noticed her through the smoke and flames. It was a blessing, and she was going to make the best of it. She wondered how the rest of the town was doing. Screams were still echoing outside but she couldn’t see if any other house was on flame. God!

She needed to get out. She needed to go find Carl and Clarice. Check on Mika and Judy. Carl and Clarice were just out patrolling. Fear ran through her wilder, giving her enough strength to run faster.

The master bedroom was aflame. The door was half-burned, and Amanda saw Deanna and Reg in the assaulted room, hugging each other closely and tightly, too shocked to move out. Taking off her jacket, Amanda quickly drooped it over her head and jumped through the flames in the doorway before sprinting toward the old couple.

“Deanna! Reg!” she shouted out through smokes through her croaking throat with coughs and yanked the bedcovers. The maps, the drawings, Deanna’s files… Everything was burning, hot embers falling and drifting around them in the air. Her eyes caught the leather hardcovered book that Deanna had shown her about Rome and bending down she grabbed it from the ground and tucked it inside her beltline before wrapping the old couple with the bedcovers.

“Amanda…” Deanna muttered out to her.

“I’m here—” she told them, “But we gotta go now!”

“W—what’s happened?”

She shook her again with another fit of coughs before she could answer. “The Wolves! They attacked us.” It was becoming so hot and so hard to speak, each time she took a breath, hot air and ash were filling her nostrils. It felt like her lungs were on fire.

“How?” Reg asked, his body doubling with coughs as Amanda started to move them out.

She didn’t know. They were here inside the town and Amanda had no idea how. She had to stop and catch a fresh breath and think, but there was no time. They needed to go to safety and she needed to find the others. She had to protect the town! She had to protect her family!

Judy!

She had to get to Judy!

Even the thought of the baby girl in flames like this gave her all the incentive she needed. If they hurt her—if they so much as harmed a single hair on her head, Amanda was going to rip them apart! She was going to burn them to the ground!

They had been under a total lockdown, patrolling the perimeters continuously. The barricade at the intersection wouldn’t let anyone approach them from the main road and all other possible weak egress points were under their surveillance.

How the hell had they managed to infiltrate the town? How many people were out there? Where were they? Was Deanna’s house their first target? She hadn’t seen any attack before, so it must have been the first target. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Monroe’s townhouse was like their white house. Had they known it? If they knew it, what else they were knowing? Did they have a leak inside, a mole? How? How had they sneaked in? In the armory, they had dynamites in the wooden crates that had been left behind by the military. Was it theirs? Had they broken into the armory and appropriated their weapons?

The questions started turning in her mind rapidly like a dam had broken inside her mind, flooding her. They needed to regroup. She needed to get out and round up her teams. She pushed the old couple toward outside under the cover. “Out! We need to get out!”

Both Deanna and Reg struggled with the flames, but Amanda had gathered enough determination and willpower to fill for each of them. She headed them downstairs and before they started stumbled through the demolished ruins of the porch, Amanda drew her gun.

She had no idea how outside was, but she was already prepared. As soon as she felt the fresh breeze over her aching skin, she threw off the bedcover and leaped away from the ruins, her eyes checking for hostiles. She caught a flicker out of the corner of her eye as Deanna pointed at her behind. “A—Amanda—”

Amanda was already swirling around herself, aiming before Deanna could even finish calling out her name. She let go of the trigger.

The animal dropped to the ground, screaming, holding his knee. She grabbed the man from the ground and stripped him of his ax and blade quickly before pushing him against the half-burnt grey fences. She darted her eyes across the town, noticing the fires all across the town. Screams were ripping off in the air, calling for help. The Wolves were everywhere. She couldn’t see any explosions, but half of the town was in flames, burning. She glanced aside at two of the Wolves as they smashed Molotov cocktails at their solar panels.

Amanda whipped back toward the animal and tightened her grip on his trachea. “How?!” she barked at his face. “How did you get inside?”

The animal smiled at her as his face turned purple under the filth that covered his skin. “Y’all gonna burn!”

Her fist crashed at his jaw, making the man sputter blood. “HOW?” she roared, raining punches after punches at his face as she drove him back to the ground. She leaped on him and sat on his chest, still raining blows at his face.

When she stopped, his face had become unrecognizable, and her knuckles were throbbing with pain, bloody. It wasn’t only his blood. She grabbed his collar and yanked him up at her face. “How?” she roared again. “Tell me or I swear to God I shove a dynamite into your ass and fire it!”

“The sewers—” the animal sputtered in a whisper through split lips and broken teeth. “We came through the sewers…”

Amanda froze, pulling back. The maniac gave her a bloody, crooked smile with his ruined face. “The little bird told us. We found him at the bottom of the cliff. Owen made him sing everything.”

 Amanda stood up, raising her arm. She pulled the trigger as the man gave her his last smile.

# # #

The flares burned red in the sky, but Rick gazed at them with heavy eyes as they vaporized into the mass of the heavy clouds. Every flare they had fired had quenched like this after a few minutes, but Rick still had them keep going.

“There are too many clouds—” Anne remarked beside him. “What if the dead won’t notice?”

“It’s pretty clear down here—” Rick replied evenly. “Listen. I already hear them getting closer.” It wasn’t an exaggeration. The woods were cracking and echoing around them louder, snarls and growls coming closer. Soon they were going to start falling back toward the second ring. Rick was sure the woman was already aware, so perhaps it was one of her ways to test his patience. It wasn’t working. They were going to do it. The woman passed a hand over her straight bangs and turned away from him without a word.

Today wasn’t going how Rick would have preferred, and it wasn’t a surprise. When he came to the gate and saw Amanda not showing up, he knew he was going to have a bad day. He was getting tired of Anne and her smirks and her questions, and he missed Amanda beside him. She possibly would have had the same qualms, if not worse, but at least Rick could have still had her with him. Last night had turned to another disaster, but what she had told him had kept Rick awake all night. Amanda was in love with him. She had finally confessed it. It wasn’t the best way to say someone you loved him, but she had finally confessed it.

His anger was still simmering beneath, even though he didn’t know why he’d snapped her that much. He had just wanted to tell her, confessed everything. Life goes on, he’d uttered, and the rest had followed. He knew he was digging his own grave, but he still kept going. So why he’d become that angry with her last night?

It wasn’t a question Rick had a clear answer, aside from knowing that he just wanted them to move on. Like Amanda had told him. He was even going to tell her he hadn’t gone to Beatrice for learning more about Pete Anderson. He hadn’t wanted even that stood between them anymore, but Anne had come out and his words were cut off.

The next time Rick saw her, she started throwing out accusations in the air again. So yeah, perhaps he’d snapped, but goddammit, when he went to the gate this morning and didn’t see her, he also knew he couldn’t leave the town like that. No.

He had to do something. If he had left her like that after she confessed that she was in love with him, Rick would have never forgiven himself. So he had gone back to her house and picked a few wildflowers and left a small bouquet for her. Amanda always understood him. She would understand he was sorry. When he returned, he was going to talk to her again. He was going to tell her he didn’t know why he’d snapped but he just wanted them to be open to each other, not like this. They loved each other. It shouldn’t be this difficult to have a relationship when they both felt the same.

Something cracked, putting him out of his musings. Quickly checking out, Rick saw a dozen of walkers coming out of the trees. He raised his arm and fired. Following his lead, the other teams fired too, painting the sky above them redder as Rick raised the radio and called in.

“Start to retreat—” Rick ordered, signaling his people to fall back, too. “They’re coming.”

The trick was to herd up the walkers as close as Del Arno and move them up north on the back road. They’d closed the intersection with another barricade that only had an opening, north. If they only managed to line them up on the road and go on themselves on the tree lines with flares to bounce any sideliners back as Daryl led the cortege, soon the herd would be off. There were no guarantees if it would work or they wouldn’t come back, but with their limited options, it was the best.

 Rick brought the radio up again. “All right, everyone—” he talked over. “You all know what to do. Stay sharp, be alert. Don’t let them stray off. Daryl—” He paused for a second before continuing. “We’re bringing the party to you. Ready?”

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

# # #

The gunshots had started ringing in the air, but all Amanda could be able to think of was one name: Ron. It was him. Amanda didn’t know what had happened, she didn’t know how it had happened, even how the boy had survived, but she still knew it was him. It couldn’t have been anyone else.

She quickly reached to her radio to warn Rick, but when she tried to open the channel, nothing worked. The explosion must have damaged it. Cursing, she wandered her eyes around, listening to the gunshots. Her objective still hadn’t changed. They needed to regroup. Their rendezvous point in emergencies was the community center, but they were comprised. If they knew where Deanna’s house was, that meant they also knew—

Over her eyes, a Wolf was chasing after Shelly, a blade in his hands, and raising her arms, Amanda shot him from the other side. They still didn’t have guns, she surmised quickly. They were still attacking without guns. Molotov cocktails and dynamites, yes, but no firepower.

Spinning around herself, checking the man where she’d dropped him down, Amanda understood the man hadn’t been chasing after Shelly. “We need to get to the armory!” she shouted, waving her arm in the direction of the armory toward their left. “They’re after guns!”

Shelly came to their side. “Deanna—Deanna, what happened?”

Amanda whipped around to the woman. “Have you seen the others?” she inquired quickly, but the fretting woman shook her head.

“No…No. I haven’t. I was just going to the pantry—”

Amanda shut out the woman and tried to think. She needed to get to Judy, find Carl and Clarice. But she also needed to regroup her teams and secure the armory before those animals got their hands on their guns. Her stomach tightened when she knew what her decision had to be. Carol was with Judy and Mika. She could protect them. Carol still had the cache inside her home, the guns they hadn’t returned even after their gun plot had blown away. Their house must be the safest place in the whole town now.

Amanda had to do this now.

The wise action would be sending off the others in the town to deliver her message to the rest of the team. Fall back to the armory. But she couldn’t let them go in the hot zone like this when these animals would slay them without remorse. “Stay here—” she spoke quickly, moving them toward a corner away from the sight of the main road. “Take cover and protect yourself. My team will try to regroup here. Send them to the armory.”

Deanna pointed at her hip, where blood was oozing from her wound. “Amanda, you’re injured.”

“It’s fine,” she muttered with a headshake. She paused, sparing her gun a look and cursing under her breath, she handed the gun to Deanna. She couldn’t leave them without a means to protect themselves. Her changes were better than them without a gun. She wished she had another one on herself, but if the wishes were horses…

“Amanda—” the older woman muttered, but Amanda cut her off.

“Take it. Do you know how to use it?”

She nodded. “Good. Stay alert. If anyone approaches you, shoot him down.”

Bending down, she drew her knife from her boot and started stalking toward the armory using the back gardens and angle of the houses. She was going blind here, flying solo, and she hated it. She needed to have a bird’s eye to have a better understanding of the situation. With a curse, she grabbed the railings of the porch of the house she was in and started climbing on its roof. Her body protested, her hip aching worse, but Amanda kept going. From the porch, she crawled up toward the second floor, and gracelessly, she tumbled herself upward on a landing at the edge of the roof. Staying in a crouch on the landing, Amanda surveyed the town.

She saw all the watch platforms had been hit with Molotov’s, flames were licking the metal legs but none of them had been exploded, she noticed with a lighter heart. The Wolves were advancing toward the armory, raising havoc on their paths. She tried to count down the attackers, her eyes darting around then she spotted Carl and Clarice with Enid a few yards away from her in the back of a house, hiding beneath a green fence line.

With a silent cry, her heart thudding, she jumped, rolling over the porch’s roof, and landed on the ground. Her body felt like she was on aflame pin and needles again, but Amanda didn’t care. She started running toward them as fast as she could—

“Amanda!” her whispered name halted her as Amanda recognized the voice.

“Joan!” she whispered back at her as the woman poked her head out the corner of the infirmary. “What’s happening?”

“Go lock yourself in and stay inside. We’re under attack.”

It was stating the obvious and Joan’s eyes told her the same too. “What happened to you?”

Amanda brushed it off as she had done with Deanna. “I’m fine. I need to go to the armory. If anyone comes to the infirmary from my teams, tell them to find me in the armory.”

Joan ran to her. “I’m coming too!”

Amanda grabbed the woman at her elbow and turned her back toward the infirmary. “No! We need you in the infirmary. They may bring in the wounded. You need to stay in.” Besides, Joan was pregnant. She couldn’t let her danger herself or her baby like this with these animals. “Just go inside and tell if someone comes to find me in the armory!”

Turning away, she started running again toward the spot Carl and the others had hidden, but she was much too in open sight and defenseless. She needed to blend in. Her soot and blood covered face, hair and clothes would work for her advantage. Subterfuge and deception. She quickly raised the piece of cloth she had lowered over her neck to her mouth again and drew a W mark over the soot on her forehead.

When she saw the bush that the teenagers were hiding underneath, Amanda stalked quietly. The girls were holding their knives as Carl had his katana blade. She cursed herself for a second not letting them carry weapons like the others as she cracked the dry foliage under her boots to avert them so that she didn’t catch them unaware, attacking out of desperation.

“Carl!” she whispered at the same time, lowering her cloth down over her neck again.

The teenage boy turned around. “Amanda!” he exclaimed quietly after seeing her face. “What happens?”

“The Wolves—” she answered again for the third time. “They found the sewers and infiltrated,” she explained, leaving off the part with Ron, her anger fueling again. All their plan, all their preparations were falling. In every scenario they’d prepared, they had never thought their secret evacuation plan would have been their weakest point.

So, so stupid! They should’ve thought about this! If someone could get out, they also could get in! Amanda wanted to kick her ass, another failure, another fuck up she’d managed, but beating herself down at the moment wouldn’t help anyone. They needed to improvise. Subterfuge and deception.

“Did you alert Dad?” Carl asked, cutting off her musings.

Amanda shook her head. “No. My radio got broken in the explosion.”

“We heard it—” Clarice cried in a whisper. “What was that?” She paused, eyeing the bloody smear on her hip. “And—and are you hurt Officer Shepherd?”

She nodded absently, checking around, trying to pinpoint Wolves. She was going to need a better disguise for the teenagers. “I’m fine—” she repeated in the same absent tones, “Someone threw dynamite at Deanna’s house. I was on the porch.”

“What?” They all almost shouted.

“Yeah. I don’t think it exploded fully, thank god—” she continued, slowly standing up as she spotted a Wolf on the main road. “They’re tricky things. Never work properly. Wait here. I’ll be back in a second.”

She leaped to the other side without another word and crossed the road. The man didn’t see it coming. She stalked him from behind and coiling her left hand over his mouth, she cut his throat quickly with the other. Her arms lowering over his neck where blood was jetting off, Amanda dragged the man toward the teenagers.

Seeing her coming, Carl quickly rose and helped her to tumble down the dying asshole over the bush at the other side. Enid looked at the man with narrowed eyes. The girl was holding herself as good as Carl, much better than Clarice, and Amanda wasn’t shocked. There were anger and revenge inside her eyes, but they didn’t have time for that. The same feeling was threatening to break over in her insides too, but it didn’t serve any good either. They needed to secure the town first, avenge later.

“Come on—” she gestured at the teenager. “Use his clothes and disguise yourself—” She wiped her hands over her clothes, making them covered with more soot then dug them in the soil. The next second, she started rubbing them over their faces.

“Find something and cover your face like I did—” she instructed further and pointed at her forehead. “We need to blend in.” Understanding her, Carl quickly turned and started drawing a W on Clarice’s forehead as Amanda did the same for Enid.

“Well, I guess it’s easier to smear the rotters over us, right?” Clarice tried a joke, but her voice cracked. Carl held her hand. Enid looked at them as Amanda covered her face with the man’s bandana.

When they were finished, the teenagers looked enough like the Wolves. Amanda nodded at herself. “That should do it. All right. I’m going to the armory. You try to circle the town and tell everyone you can find to meet me there.” Her eyes turned to Carl and her voice cracked the same. “Try to check on Judith and Mika, too.”

Carl nodded. “We will.”

“All right, be careful and stay sharp. Don’t engage with anyone. Stay under the radar.”

 After they slowly moved out from their hiding spot, Amanda did the same too. The Wolves were running around the town, wreaking havoc, but luckily with their numbers so low inside the town now, Amanda didn’t see any townspeople. The fire sounds were still echoing in the air, so her people must be fighting where they were as the townspeople had gone to hiding understanding the attack. Amanda was glad no one had tried to start an evacuation yet. The situation made it very clear how unprepared they still were even when they thought they were becoming better. Their inexperience was working for their advantage now as going with the evacuation plan would be their downfall right now, but it still didn’t change the truth. They were still not ready.

She circled the pond and approached toward the armory. A group of three were already outside, watching the perimeters with guns. Their guns. Amanda wondered where Olivia was and prayed the woman had managed to hide somewhere too before they had made it to the armory. Focusing herself on the men, Amanda eyed the weapons. Each of them had handguns, though, not rifles as Amanda would’ve expected. Still, the odds weren’t in her favor, but she didn’t have any other option.

No option. No choice. She needed to get back the armory.

Lowering her head, she quickly checked her appearance and prayed it would be enough for a close engagement. Lurking and stalking in the streets as if one of them was easier than trying to infiltrate behind the enemy lines.

But again, no option, no choice. She’d stayed back for this. To protect home.

God. She hoped she wasn’t screwing it up like at Grady.

Believe in yourself. Believe in each other. Deanna's words echoed in her. She could do this. She’d sent the word to fall back and regroup as any leader would do. They were caught unguarded, but they were recuperating. Unguarded or not, they were still a bunch of people anyone should think twice before messing up with them. The Wolves were going to regret ever crossing their paths, before the day ended, they were going to make sure of that.

Her determination and belief grew stronger, Amanda started walking to the Wolves. From all her experience with those men, Amanda had surmised that they didn’t have any formal training, but attacked like rabid dogs, wreaking havoc and fire everywhere they went, leaving ruins. The reasons why they did it still didn’t make sense to her. Those solar panels they had broken were priceless in their world. Rick said they did it to create terror and chaos, but Amanda still couldn’t see any reason for it beyond madness. Whether it was just madness of the new world or was there some scope she couldn’t comprehend?

Amanda shoved the question away from her. It didn’t matter now. Whatever the answer was, there was only one truth that mattered to her now. She needed to get inside. Approaching them closer, Amanda eyed them again. Training or not, they were twice her size, and they also had more muscle strength than her. She had been working her ass off for situations like this since they had arrived in Alexandria, but the odds weren’t still at her side.

She pushed that thought too, instead muttered herself what Deanna had told her. Believe in yourself.

Her eyes surveyed and analyzed the armory’s porch and the men’s positions as she advanced further, her mind rapidly trying to come up with scenarios if she needed to attack. She just needed to pass over them. Joan and Carol had already climbed through the window at the back. If Amanda could manage to pass in front of them for a few seconds unnoticed and then went to the backyard, she would have done it without direct contact.

Her camouflage did the wonder, the men watched her, fooled by her appearance while Amanda turned to backside. As soon as she vanished from their sight, she started running to the tree as fast as she could manage and started climbing up.

The window was closed.

Amanda wasn’t surprised, and it couldn’t be opened from outside, a fact she already knew. She quickly gave a peek then seeing the room empty, raised her arm and smashed the window with the crook of her elbow. She turned her face aside to protect herself from glass shattering that made a thunderous sound in her ears, possibly alerting everyone inside and outside.

Holding the windowsill, bracing herself for pain, Amanda leaped and rolled inside as she prayed there wasn’t anyone inside the room hidden from her sight. Her luck still held. She trotted toward the shelves, bypassing the glass vaults, then understood why the armory was empty.

Most of their guns were inside the stainless steel and glass vaults that the military had stationed and couldn’t get opened with brute force. Keys. They needed keys to clear them out. She spun around herself and saw the peg on the wall for the keys was empty.

As she gazed at the rifles inside the vaults, the reason why the watches of the Wolves outside were only with handguns became clear.

Olivia! If the smart woman had been here, Amanda would have kissed her!

She must have gone to hiding with the keys when she realized they were under attack, therefore making the Wolves unable to clear off the armory. Those guns they had must be the ones from the safe house attacked or from the shelves that Olivia had left open. A wooden crate was broken, lying empty on the ground, and Amanda knew it was the one that had the dynamites. She wondered how many they had taken but so far, they had only used one for Deanna’s house. Amanda tried to take it as a good sign. It looked like they didn’t want to demolish the town as bad as they had done with Shirewilt, but they still must be looking for the keys outside. More than a third of their weaponry was already with the teams outside, so the numbers were still on their side.

Amanda had to deal with the guards outside now. She ran over the shelves trying to find anything those animals left behind. There was none. She wanted to curse another time, just before she heard the gunshots outside. She sighed, running to the front, and saw her teams plus the teenagers were standing in front of the porch, the Wolves were down.

She closed her eyes with a silent prayer inside. “They’re everywhere—” Carter asked, looking at her. He was holding on to his weapon tightly, but his hands were shaking. “What are we going to do?”

“We fight—” Amanda answered simply.

Most of them were in the same position, shaken, their faces in the color of ash. Beatrice was trembling like a leaf, standing so close to Maria. But she had come, Amanda told herself. She had managed. Amanda swallowed and strengthened herself. Believe in yourself. Believe in each other. “We need to find Olivia—” she continued. “She’s with the vaults’ keys. Did anyone see her?” she questioned, but a weak voice cracked behind their lines.

“I’m here—” Olivia came forth behind Beatrice and Maria. “When the attack started, she came to our platform,” the Latina woman informed her. A pride touched her tone. “We protected her.”

Giving Maria a nod, Amanda turned to the other woman. “That was brilliant, Olivia. Taking the key and running to hiding. Well done.”

Olivia looked at her. “It wasn’t me—” she cracked again. “I—I called the Sheriff when the attack started.” Amanda stared at the woman. “He told me to take the keys and hide.”

# # #

He was getting too old for this shit, Rick thought breathless as he ran in the tree lines as fast as he could, jumping over the roots on the uneven terrain.

“Light ‘em up,” he barked at the radio, his chest burning with exertion, and fired another shot. “Light ‘em up! We’re coming to the intersection!” With his command, the flares flew in the sky from the other side of the road, the herd lurching toward them more agitated. “Don’t let them stray off!”

The moment of the truth was coming. They were going to see if this plan was going to work or not. They’d managed to gather up the herd and if they could manage to do this too, then they would be off of the most dangerous waters. They still had a long way ahead of themselves, until at least they managed to put another eight miles between themselves and the herd, but this was the trickiest of the trickiest parts.

If they fucked up this, they were going to have a hell of a lot of problems. With the last thought, they suddenly came out of the tree lines and on the intersection. Ahead of them, the metal plates stood above their heads. At the other side, Rick could hear the chorus of the snarls and growls of the approaching parade.

“You’re really crazy—” Anne remarked with a smile, half turning to him as the rest of their people circled them behind. “I would’ve never believed this.”

“No, we’re not crazy—” Rick replied. “We’re determined.”

Or desperate. But Rick didn’t say that to the woman. Anne wasn’t there when Rick had declared it as necessary. They were facing another Death Wing out of necessity, and he felt Amanda’s absence starkly.

Anne was standing beside him, but Rick didn’t care. He wouldn’t have cared even though if she hadn’t, wouldn’t have taken her hand covertly and brought her to his side. No. He’d done that for Amanda, because even when he’d been aware of how different she was for him.

The chorus of screeches increased with the roar of motors. They were coming. Rick steeled his mind and stared at the five-inch thick metal wall that separated them from hundreds of the dead. “It’s gonna hold—” he spoke, his voice still firm, but he didn’t know why he was speaking.

Anne grunted a rough noise out of her nose. “That would be nice considering where we’re standing right now.”

This time Rick didn’t comment, although he couldn’t have blamed her for her lack of faith like Dawn hadn’t believed they would have cleared off the Death Wing without any causalities. The woman had made it possible then wasn’t beside him today, the thought flitted over his mind again, and irritated Rick shoved it away. Even the threat of imminent death and danger wasn’t enough to make him stop thinking about Amanda.

“Make some noise, folk—” Abraham talked from the RV over the motor sounds and static, “We’re coming.”

Rick raised his arm again and flared as just the RV and Daryl on the bike showed up at the other side, their engines roaring, Rick spied through an opening between the panels. Anne came closer to peek, too. They hit and barged at the metal with loud cracks, shuddering the wall on its hinges. Their mass soon enlarged as the metallic crash sounds swelled in the air, bouncing around them over the motor sounds. Hundreds…there were hundreds of them and they kept coming.

Anne shook her head, still peeking through the opening beside him. A half rotting rotter smashed just beside them and swept down along the wall as another tripped over it, smashing at the wall too, its dark blood sputtering at them through the opening.

The tall woman leaped back and ran a hand over her cheek. “Make an effort?” She threw at him a nasty look. “You’re gonna owe me for this, Rick Grimes.”

Again, Rick didn’t say anything.

“They are going through—” Glenn cried out from the radio at the other side of the road. “They are going through!”

“Don’t start celebrating soon—” Rick warned. He hovered the radio over his lips for a second before continuing, “We still need to keep them moving. It’s not finished yet.”

Another eight miles, then they were done. “All right—” he barked at the radio as the front of the cortege took the curve completely, turning to sprint to the tree lines. “We return to the woods. We need to keep them in line.”

“You go another mile. The rest we’ll handle—” Daryl spoke, his voice mixing with static and his bike’s motor sounds.

“No!” Rick opposed with a breathless bark as he ran. “We spoke eight miles. We leave them away eight miles, then you go another five and return.”

That was the plan. Eight miles away from Del Arno together, then another five miles Abraham and Daryl covered as the rest of them returned. His heels cracked and munched the rough terrain beneath his boots as Rick scampered through the woods, his gaze on the road and the walkers. They were still shooting the flare whenever they needed it, but it was less now as they had managed to gather the herd on the road. The only thing necessary now was to make sure there wouldn’t be many strays away.

They could do this.

They were doing it.

Static wheezed again, and he expected Daryl from the other side, but to his surprise, a weak, frightened voice spoke hurriedly in hushed tones. “Sheriff Grimes, do you copy?” Rick decreased his pace, raising his hand to halt the others too. “Sheriff, do you copy?” the voice repeated, and this time Rick recognized it.

Olivia.

“Olivia—” he snapped tersely. “We’re in the middle of something! We—”

“We’re under attack!” the usually meek woman cut him off. Rick stopped entirely; his hand suspended in the air.

“Repeat.”

“We’re under attack. It’s the Wolves. T-they’re inside the town.”

The words echoed in his brain. They’re inside the town.

How? Echoed the next second, before he raised the radio and shouted, “Where is Amanda? Get me Amanda!”

“I—I don’t know. I don’t know where she is. The last time I saw her, she was patrolling.”

Rick tried to think. She was out in the town, and they were inside. They had somehow infiltrated, but Amanda couldn’t be able to make a connection. She hadn’t come to check-in before they started, but Rick knew she still must have a handheld radio with him. And she wasn’t calling in.

His hands already started trembling as the others started to talk over the radio. “When it happened?” Glenn asked as Daryl shouted:

“We need to go back!”

Rick tried to stay calm, tried to reign over his panic. Amanda was ready and prepared to defend the town if an attack came. She had stayed for this. They had watchpoints, guards, and guns. They would fight back. They hadn’t ever estimated the Wolves would have managed to infiltrate, but Rick knew she would fight until the last drop of her blood. They still needed to do this.

“The guns—they are still in the vaults?” Rick asked to be sure.

“Yeah, yeah they are.”

“Take the keys and go hide,” Rick ordered her firmly. “If you can find Officer Shepherd, find her. She may be around the platforms. Check the third one first.” If she was out to patrol, she certainly would check that one. It wasn’t the highest but had the clearest view of the woods.

“Rick, we need to go back, man—” Daryl spoke again in a roar of motor engines and chorus of snarls. “They need us.”

“They’re prepared for this—” Rick replied. “Amanda stayed to protect the town. We should trust them.”

“Carol is with the kids,” Daryl said, and Rick felt he would lose his mind if he let himself think through it like that. They had to trust her. Rick trusted her. Amanda would never let anything happen to Carl and Judy.

“Carol has the cache we took from the armory in the house—” Rick reminded him almost as if he was trying to soothe himself down, but as soon as the words left his mouth, Anne’s eyes snapped at him.

Rick cursed himself for the slip, that he outed to the woman that they had taken weapons from the armory. It was the main thing that Rick was afraid they would try, just like they had done. But the damage was already done. The tall woman was giving Rick a curious look even now after hearing his words.

“Nah. I gotta go back, man—” Daryl cut off through his musings.

His mind taken with the guns and Anne and her people, Rick asked, “Joan talked to you?”

“Talked to me what?”

As soon as the word came to him over static, Rick cursed himself again. He glared at the radio but stayed silent. “We want to return too—” Townspeople started to add into their conversation over the radio, rescuing Rick from answering. “We can’t leave home like that.”

Rick brought up the radio again. “Look, I want to go back as much as you all. My children are there. My family. But we need to do this. We need to do this for them. If we return now, we do it for us, not for them, because we’re afraid.”

Rick was afraid, the possibilities were making his stomach coil into stone with fear, but they shouldn’t let fear cloud their judgment, shouldn’t let it hinder them from their objective. “We need to keep the walkers in line. If they break off and spread away, this’s for nothing—” he stressed out again. “We gotta do our job. They will do theirs.”

To make his point clearer and gave them courage, gave himself courage, he fired another flare in the sky to start gathering back the herd. They shouldn’t lose their advantage. Abraham and Daryl were still going on, couldn’t have stopped, but they needed to stay ahead.

The others must have finally conceded because more flares started painting the sky. They started running ahead of the herd again. Rick felt he was divided in two, one part was constantly worrying about the town, for his children, for Amanda, for his family, for their home as the same time he tried to keep the herd in line, barking at orders, firing the flares, and trying to keep up the energy high in their group.

What Rick was feeling, each of them must be feeling, too. Even Anne. Even she had left behind people in Alexandria. Amanda was going to take care of them. Rick believed that. He believed nothing but her right now. She had come back for him in the prison, found him, saved him. She would do it this time, too.

It took fifteen or so minutes before their radios cracked up and Rick heard the feminine voice he’d been missing since the morning. “Rick?” Amanda called in in a low strained voice. “Do you copy?”

“AMANDA!” Rick cried. “Amanda! Are you okay?”

“Yeah. We secured the armory, took it back. Found Olivia too.” She was speaking quickly now, but her voice was still strained. “The Wolves are still in the town. We’re going to take care of them.”

“Are you okay?” Rick asked again, hearing the distress in her tone more despite her words. Worry skyrocketed in him as possibilities made his stomach lurch. If something had happened to her while Rick was here, if those animals had hurt her… “Are you hurt?”

They had done what they had to. And she had said she was okay. Granted, Amanda would have never told him anything even though those bastards had cut her into pieces while Rick was out here now—

“I’m fine—” Amanda replied evenly and continued even before he could ask what had happened in detail. “You go ahead. How long do you still need?”

“Another hour or so,” Rick told her. “How did they get inside?”

“The sewers. They found it.”

“What?” Rick cried out.

A brief sigh came from the other side. “Yeah.” Rick closed his eyes for a second as Amanda went on. “I’m gonna explain later. But be careful. They know a lot of stuff about us. They’ve got intel.”

“Amanda, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You just go finish what you started,” came the reply, but this time Rick heard the determination in her voice. “We’re gonna finish this. But don’t worry. The Wolves are gonna learn it too.”

Rick scowled before he brought the radio back up to his mouth. “Learn what?”

“They’re fucking with the wrong people.”

Notes:

Don't I love making Amanda utter Rick's badass one-liners, haha. I admit it's one of my favorite things to do, and I CAN'T wait to make Amanda utter Rick's 'the door is there' line too, hehe. And, yes, Amanda survived a dynamite explosion, because I couldn't restrain myself from doing a classic action movie sequence with my girl. You can imagine Rick's horror after he hears about it, though, hehe.

Chapter 51: 'Good luck then, on finding anything left to save'

Summary:

As Amanda tries to find Ron and secure the sewers from the Wolves' attack, Carl and the others fight on the ground.

Notes:

Surprise...:) I managed to squeeze time to upload the next chapter. As we're getting so close to the end, I don't want to drag out the finale. So expect faster updates. Enjoy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When Amanda set down the radio, the rest of them were all looking at her. They’re fucking with the wrong people. Okay, she had carried away a bit in the heat of the moment, challenging her inner Rick, but she had meant it. These animals were going to learn they were a hard pill to swallow, would get stuck in their throat.

Nodding herself mentally, Amanda made a quick count of her teams while trying to come up with a counterattack. She’d called in Rick and made him go ahead on their mission. After hearing Olivia’s remark that it wasn’t her but Rick who had come up with the idea, Amanda had been afraid that they would have returned out of fear of hearing about the attack, so letting them know that they had taken control of the situation was necessary. Amanda was even half surprised to hear that they weren’t on the way back to Alexandria. Olivia had told her she had called ten minutes ago but apparently, they hadn’t. Rick had trusted her to finish this. The thought pleased her as much as it cemented her determination.

 She needed to finish this just as she had promised Rick. First things first. They needed to secure their weakest point. The sewers. They needed to take back the sewers. She circled her hand in the air to call her team toward her, and dutifully, they formed a circle around her.

“Okay, listen up—” she started, wandering her eyes around them. “We need to take back the sewers, too. I go there.” She hadn’t explained how the Wolves had sneaked inside, but they all had heard what she had just told Rick. She wondered where Ron was or if the teenage boy was still alive. A part of her was even worried for Jessie, recalling the animal’s words. Owen made him sing everything.

The words gave her an inner shudder as she knew what they also meant. They’d questioned Ron to learn about them. She felt sick, guilt and anger turning bile in her stomach, imagining the teenage boy in the hands of those animals under questioning.

Controlling her fear and guilt, she pointed to Nicholas with her head. “Nick, you go back to the gate with Steve. I want it secure. Take Carter and Gabriel and secure the other platforms. We need to control the perimeters if they try to breach the wall. Aaron, Eric, you’re with me. Carl—” She turned to the teenager that stood between Clarice and Enid. “I need you to gather up all the others inside the houses and bring them back to our house. Carol will take care of them.”

There were still a lot of people in the town they needed to keep away from the battlefield; Deanna, Reg, Johnsons, little Sarah, Lauren’s daughter, all the kids and elderlies that they wanted to stay behind the safety of the walls. But Carter shook his head quickly.

“Are we going to leave the armory defenseless?” he asked.

Amanda shook her head, turning to Beatrice and Maria. “You stay here with Olivia—” She gestured, cocking her head at Olivia. They didn’t have enough manpower to do everything, and she knew what her priorities were; people came before the supplies. But they also had to try to protect what they had. “Protect the supplies. They would try to come back to loot again.”

The women nodded with seriousness, gripping their weapons tightly, readying themselves for the fight. “Stay strong, trust yourself, trust each other.” She looked at each of them with intent. “You are trained for this.” She waved her hand in the air for the march on command before barking out, “Go! Go! Go!”

After her short peep talk, they started marching in double time out of the warehouse like true soldiers and Amanda felt a surge of pride seeping into her before she turned to Aaron and Eric. “A’right, let’s move out.”

Ducking in the cover in a crouch behind the corner as they spied a manhole ahead of them, Aaron asked her the question Amanda didn’t wish to answer. “How did they learn about the sewers?”

“Ron—” Amanda replied. “They found Ron.”

“You said he drove off over the cliff!” There was an utter shock in the man’s voice, but Amanda didn’t turn her head to look at him to see that his face carried the same expression but instead screened the road ahead.

“He must’ve survived the fall.” There was a part of her that still couldn’t believe it, but it had happened. He had survived. And they had left him there, for the Wolves to find him. Amanda quickly dissipated the thought away. “Let’s go—” she ordered, standing up from her crouch, and signaled Aaron and Eric to follow her, taking the point.

When they arrived, Aaron and she quickly crouched again to push the heavy lid over the hole as Eric guarded their back. The iron lid was even heavier than Amanda remembered, but they managed it in a record time.

The gunshots had lessened in the town too, but the fires were continuing. There were no screams anymore, but the gunshots still bothered her. Thank God, there hadn’t been any explosion again, but she wondered if the sounds would attract the dead. When they managed to push the heavy lid enough for an entrance, Amanda took the lead again, quickly sweeping her right leg over the metallic ladder fixed on the wall.

They also didn’t turn on their flashlights not to draw attention to themselves. She leaped down on the muddy, smelly ground with a low splash in the pitch dark. Aaron and Eric landed beside her a few minutes later as Amanda tried to pick her way half-blind. Wary and alert, and ready for anything, she made her way toward the main exit they’d prepared in the east, straining her ears to catch anything in the darkness. Over the splashes of water that their steps made quietly, low scurrying and chattering sounds were faintly echoing in the distance. Amanda picked them like rats, not rotters or humans. A few of the rodents scurried between their feet, splashing dirty water around their ankles. Eric made a quiet groan, which Amanda stopped putting a hand on the man’s upper arm.

As they advanced toward the exit, their way suddenly lightened, and soon Amanda heard the sounds. First, it was barely audible, but as they closed in warily, stalking in the shadows along the cemented wall, Amanda managed to distinct figures as well.

She picked up three men at the round mouth of the exit that they’d cut off the irons and secured the opening with a padlock and tree branches to disguise it in the woods. The padlock was broken now, the tree branches, roots, and barks were laying on the muddy ground. Beneath the feet of the men, there was a bundle of a figure, hunched over in the left corner, and as soon as Amanda saw it, she understood what it was.

Who he was.

In the gloom, there was a red patch around where he was rolled into a ball. Her chest pierced, spying on Ron.

Beside Ron, there was a small heap of supplies the men had gathered. Peeking behind the corner, she saw a roll of dynamites inside a small backpack, laying with a few pasta packages and canned food and antibiotics. Turning to Eric and Aaron, Amanda whispered, “Stay back and protect me.”

Without waiting for their answer, Amanda stepped in the light, her gun already trained on them.

As soon as they saw her, they reacted, the tallest man reaching quickly to his belt and drawing his long knife. Even before Aaron and Eric took their place behind her, the filthy man had yanked Ron’s head backward, grabbing him at the hair and his knife was pointing at the teenager’s neck.

When his face became visible in the gloom, Amanda almost let out a cry. Red, so much red, Amanda had never seen a face with so much blood before. Every inch of Ron’s face was cut off, every inch of skin was blooding, as his eyes were glassy with pain, imploring. Amanda felt out of breath, her chest squeezing but she still tried to hold on to her reserves. “Let him go.”

“Ah, you again…” the animal told her back, and a second later, Amanda recognized him too. It was the man who had killed Liam, the leader of these animals. Owen as his man had called him. Amanda understood then the man had stayed behind, protecting their way out and guarding the prizes they had taken from them.

She jerked her head toward the heap of the supplies. “Those don’t belong to you—” she hissed, and it echoed in the tunnel.

The animal smiled at her. “New world, new rules. There’re only two types of the people in the world now—”

“The ones who take and those who are getting took—” she cut him off as the man gave her an inquiring look as Amanda held her gun trained on him, ignoring the rest of his people that were lined up beside him. “I heard it before, yeah. And I warn you: we’re not the second ones,” she declared firmly. “If you surrender now, I swear we’ll be merciful.”

She uttered out the words forcing her gaze to stay on the man, not skipping over to Ron, because if she did, she wasn’t sure she could keep her cool although she was already sure the animal in front of her wouldn’t listen to her. The animal named Owen barked out laughter, just as Amanda expected.

“There’s no surrender when you play the game. You win or you die.”

“I’m not playing a game and you’re not going to win—” Amanda encountered, still holding her composure. “We took back the armory and the watch posts. Our forces are coming back. You’re outnumbered.

“And what about this little man?” Owen insisted back. “Are you letting him die?”

“I am saving him—” the words left her without hesitation. She was going to save Ron, not going to leave him in the hands of this animal’s mercy, but the man in front of her just let out another bark of laughter.

“Well, good luck then—” He shoved Ron’s cramped body toward her. “—on finding anything left to save.”

Amanda lunged forward at the same moment, rushing to Ron as Owen and his men made a run through the exit to escape. “Get him up to the infirmary—” she yelled at Aaron and Eric, looking back over her shoulder before she followed the men outside.

She wanted to stay with them and get Ron back to the town, to the safety, even thinking of his withered, bloodied form was giving her shudders even as she sprinted on their tracks. She needed to catch these animals before they caused more damage.

Her lungs were on fire, her hip was throbbing, her sight almost blind in the bright daylight after the dark, but Amanda didn’t give up on her pursuit. Unlike the sewers, she was outnumbered now one to three. She had better firepower, but the odds were still not on her sides. Amanda didn’t let it hinder her. She was going to catch them and stop them from hurting more people.

Ron’s deformed, blood-covered face skidded over her eyes. Amanda picked up speed. One vs Three. She could do it. She had to play it smart, just like how she had been planning before in the armory, not attacking them in a clear challenge. There was a part of her that also wanted a face-off, the part that wanted to rip them off into little shreds. They deserved it!

Ron’s imploring glassy eyes filled with pain flashed over her eyes too, but this time Amanda forced her anger to fuel her determination. They would never hurt anyone ever again. Amanda was going to make sure of that!

Ahead of her over the tree line, she caught the shifting branches and shrubbery and ghostly dark figures as they shuffled through them. Her eyes narrowed, she sprinted forward, her hand tightened around her gun. Just as they entered into her sight, she momentarily stopped, raised her gun, and controlling her laboring breath, she aimed and pulled the trigger.

The bullets whizzed with a loud echo, but Owen kept running away.

With a curse, her mind red and hazy with fury, Amanda started running after them again. They were dashing behind the trees now, zigzagging through the woods not to make themselves easy targets. Halting again, Amanda fired continuously until she emptied her magazine.

One of the trio tumbled down to the ground, howling with pain in the woods. Amanda didn’t care. His friends didn’t either as they left him behind, continuing running. Amanda took her spare magazine and reloaded it as a couple of the dead found them, drawn to the shots she had taken. They were lumbering toward the down man on the ground, still screaming, and as she passed them, Amanda did nothing.

Amanda heard the screams peaking behind her as the rotters started feasting on the man. Amanda felt nothing. She only ran faster. She was getting farther away from Alexandria with each step, but she didn’t care, either. She was going to catch the other two and make them regret! Like she had done to their friend.

Half of a dozen of rotters suddenly lunged at her from her sides and spinning around, Amanda fired at them, cleaning her way ahead. Raising her arm, she shot at the man behind Owen and got him on the ground too. She pulled the trigger again, but this time it rolled empty. Tucking her gun back in her holster, her rounds finished, she started to run after him again but this time, understanding she was out of the bullets, Owen stopped and returned to her.

His hand was already holding his machete. Accepting the challenge, Amanda drew her blade too. Another walker attacked him, but without prying his eyes off her, the younger man stabbed him in the head without a flinch.

Amanda tried to guess how old he was, what had made him turn like this, how he had ended up doing this stuff. Was it something in him that waited for a chance to break out, a vileness deep in the heart like those men that had wanted to hurt Carl and Beth, strangers that Amanda had begged to stop hurting them, even offering herself in exchange? Was it really that hard to stay good when everything turned bad? 

She still didn’t know the answer, didn’t know how people could have become this sick, this vile, but in the end, it didn’t matter. It never did.

“I’ll give it to you, luv’—” the man taunted her, looking at her after he dealt with the dead. “You’re far stronger than what we’ve given you credit for. He’s gonna be pleased.”

Amanda narrowed her eyes, darting them to scan her around for more rotters before her gaze returned to the man. “Who?”

The filthy man threw at her a filthy smirk. “Wouldn’t wanna spoil the fun…”

Even before his words finished, he had already lunged at her, but Amanda was waiting for it. She didn’t care for the distraction tactics or the man’s rumblings. Her only objective was to stop him, stop the vileness he was spreading over the world. Her blade rose to block his blow over an arc above her shoulder. She stopped his longer blade, driving it upward to hold it at the angle of the handle before she tipped it down, bending down, and then punched him with her elbow.

As the man staggered forward, Amanda advanced on him again, but catching a rotter that was coming up at him from the left side, he threw it at her.

Kicking it back toward Owen as he laughed at her, Amanda advanced on him again. “There’s a fight in you,” he taunted her as he drove backward from her. “He’s gonna love that, too.”

Amanda let the words wash her, not letting him distract her but focused on her next attack. His left side was more open to attack, so she twisted toward his left and hunched her shoulders raising her arm again for a clear strike—

A loud, deep blaring sound flared up around them, erupting in the air, drumming in her ears. Startled, Amanda turned backward, toward the south, toward Alexandria, as she understood it was coming from home.

She swept back again, catching the man’s movement out of the corner of her eye, and blocked his attack. The sound was still hollering in the air and frantically, Amanda tried to understand what it was. It—it sounded like a…honk, like…like a big vehicle, something like a big truck or a sea vessel was honking…

She spun back at the man. “What did you do?” she hissed before she screamed. “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?”

“Go back—go back and find out—” The leader of the animals smiled at her. “Or stay with me and die.”

His smile never wavered as Amanda stared at him with deadly eyes, the honking blare still echoing in her ears. Making her decision after the last glare, Amanda turned around and started running back to Alexandria.

To home.

# # #

“Do you remember how to use it?” Carol asked, handing Mika the ankle gun Joan had taken for herself but left in the cache after hiding the girl in the closet in their bedroom with Judith.

Seeing the small gun in the little girl’s hand felt as odd as seeing it in her own hands. It’d been a while since her last time, since they had arrived in Alexandria. Instead of guns and hunting knives, her hands had become habituated to hold spoons and spatulas once more. Her eyes lowering toward the gun in her hands, Carol felt the weight of it around her fingers.

Something was gripping in her chest, something Carol wasn’t able to put into the words. She wanted to think about it, on this weird feeling she was having, but there was no time. She had to protect them. Protect her charges. We should always protect each other. Always.

“Be silent. Don’t leave here no matter what and protect Judith—” she told Mika sternly, closing the door of the closet.

She had to find out what was happening. They were under attack, that was obvious, but she also had to find Joan. She had to be in the infirmary. The younger woman could look after herself, but all her instinct was telling her she had to get to the pregnant woman. If Carol could guess anything of those animals, it was that the infirmary must be the second target after the armory. Medicine was as priceless as weapons in their world. Perhaps even more so. One could use everything as a weapon, but meds were different. Besides as Bob was outside with the teams, Joan was the only one who had medical training. From the shouts of fright and pain, Carol knew she was going to need help.

Hiding her gun under her waistline, she sprinted down the stairs.

Where were the others? Amanda was out on patrol, and so was Carl after Rick had left. Carol wanted to find the teenage boy to stand guard at her sister while Carol looked for Amanda. The watch posts looked abandoned, but she was seeing men all around the town in dirty cloaks, their bandanas covering their face, but not enough to cover their mal-intent. They had come here to do what they had done to Shirewilt and the new arrivals’ hometown, but a surprise was waiting for them in Alexandria.

Carol took cover in the shadows of the houses, trying to make it toward the infirmary. Before she made half of the way, Carl and Clarice suddenly peeked out from the shrubbery beneath Shelly’s green fence.

“Carol!” the teenage boy called to her in a hushed whisper, stalking at the hedge of the bushes. “We were coming to you!” He paused for a second. “What are you doing here?”

Carol handed him the keys to their house, instead of answering. “Mika and Judith are upstairs, hiding in the closet. After you get in, call out to them softly before you take them out,” she instructed quickly. “I gave Mika a gun. Don’t startle her.”

Carl’s face setting, he nodded. “Where’s Amanda?” Carol whispered quickly. “Did you see her?”

“Yeah. She gathered everyone in the armory. We took it back.” Carol nodded. “She asked us to find you and tell the others who can’t fight to get to our house for protection.”

Carol bobbed her head again, understanding Amanda’s plan. “Do you have guns?” she asked for confirmation. Leaving the ankle gun with Mika, she had only two guns now. One was still under her waistline, as she was keeping another one for Joan. Amanda wouldn’t send the teenagers away without protection either, but Carol still wanted to be sure.

Her breath became less labored when Carl confirmed. “Yeah.”

“Go back to the house and stay with Mika and Judy,” Carol ordered the next quickly. “I’ll collect the others. Do you see Joan?”

“She’s in the infirmary.”

“Okay—” she gave another nod, slowly straightening up. “Be careful.”

As Carol turned the corner and hid along with Shelly’s house backyard, the resident of the house ushered out from the kitchen door that opened up to her backyard. Her name whizzed in the air in a frenzied, frightened urgency again. “Carol! Where are you doing?” the woman asked, sprinting toward her. “Carl told us to go to your house.”

Carol didn’t give the woman any attention but instead peeked out from the corner. “I need to go to the infirmary. You go to our house. Carl and Clarice will be there.”

“But Officer Shepherd ordered us to—”

“Do as she says—” Carol snapped, cutting her off. “I need to go to the infirmary.”

She had to protect Joan. She had to protect the baby. Daryl’s baby.

She stepped out from the corner but as soon as she did, her way suddenly clouded by a short but large shadow. The man in front of her sneered. It all happened like in slow motion, the world around her dragged. Their height was equal, if not their weight. It didn’t matter. The man was looking down at her like he was looking at a mouse, his lips baring yellow decant teeth with his sneering smirk. In instinct, like it was as easy as chopping an onion, Carol raised her hand and stabbed the man in his neck even before he could raise his.

Carol looked at the man who dropped down on the ground, slowly dying, bleeding to death in the backyard. Her hand was warm and sticky with blood. It was the first time Carol had killed someone after Terminus, but she didn’t feel anything beyond the warmness and stickiness in her fingers.

Shelly behind her squeaked, giving out a scream. Another man came up, this time lunging at Shelly.

His machete rose and sliced the woman’s neck from down to her bosom. Blood painted red her skin and her jacket and blouse, Shelly screaming worse with pain and shock. This time Carol took out her gun and shot the man without a flinch. Her eyes skipped to her bloodied hands briefly before she lowered her arm at her side.

Shelly was still screaming.

She approached the woman on the back deck’s steps as she tried to pull herself upward, one hand holding the railings, the other hand holding her bleeding neck. Carol sat beside her on the steps and drew her toward her lap.

“C-Carol—” the woman sputtered out at her through gargoyles of blood and air, her eyes filled with pain and tears. “C-Ca-Carol…”

“It’s gonna be okay—” Carol muttered, holding her head, her blood coloring her pink cardigan darker. Her eyes stayed on the red flowers blossoming on the cotton fabric, holding the bleeding woman.

Her hand pointed the gun at the back of Shelly’s head. “C—Carol—” Eyes filled with pain and tears were staring at her wildly, begging…

“You’re gonna be okay…” Carol muttered again before pulling the trigger.

Shelly’s lifeless body dropped on her lap. Carol looked down at her as the woman’s arm eased the woman’s listless body down over the steps, then stood up and started running to the infirmary, just before a blaring honking screeched in the air.

# # #

God help him, he was so in love with this woman, and times like these when her fortitude and willpower shone through her like a star Rick got reminded why—how it had happened.

They’re fucking with the wrong people.

Yes. Yes, they were, and Amanda was going to teach them. There was no suspicion in Rick’s mind now, no doubt. Her absolute voice cleared all of it from his mind. They were going to do their job, protect their home. Rick had to do his now. They didn’t give up. Never.

He turned to the others and jerked his head toward the herd. “Come on, move on. We’ve got a damn herd to keep in line.”

“Rick—” Daryl’s voice though still came out hesitant. “They still might need our help, man.”

The thought that if Joan had talked to Daryl about the baby skated in Rick’s mind again as Sasha breezed over the radio. “We need your help here, too, Daryl!”

“Nah…” his friend roughed out, “I got faith in ya.”

“Daryl!” Sasha bellowed again over the static, “Daryl, come back!”

“Daryl!” Rick yelled too, bringing the radio to his mouth as Abraham supplied in. “He’s leaving!”

Rick shook his head. He couldn’t do this right now. Not in front of everyone. If Joan had told him about the baby before they left, Rick imagined Daryl wouldn’t have stayed. Honestly, despite his resolution and belief in her, Rick wasn’t sure what he could have done himself if it was Amanda who was pregnant with his child.

Which could still be the case, his mind added a split second later, but Rick ignored it. No. He couldn’t think about that now. It was a bridge they would need to cross if they ever came to it. He couldn’t afford to think of that now.

“Let him go,” he talked to the radio, keeping his voice as firm as possible. “If there’s anyone else who wants to leave, leave. But we do this now.”

There was no other option. His job was with the herd now. Amanda would do the rest. “Listen up—” he started quickly giving orders. “We fan out along the roadside. Glenn, you take the point on the other side. I take it here. Anne, you and Bronn are taking our six. Heath, Francie, you’re taking Glenn’s. Others, follow us in between. Keep three yards between each other, not further.”

He raised his hand, ready to shoot the flares again to signal them, but a deep, grave metallic sound of a horn blasted in the distance before he did.

Rick spun around himself wildly, searching for the source.

“What’s this?” Someone hollered over the radio. “What’s happening?”

“It sounds like…a honk—” someone else remarked puzzled as Rick turned south, toward the direction where the blaring sound was coming.

His eyes narrowed, looking at the horizon, and his chest squeezed. “It sounds like comin’—” Glenn cracked over the static, and Rick finished it, his eyes still on the horizon.

“From home! It’s coming from home!”

What happened next, happened in a few seconds as if the world somehow fast forwarded. The herd stopped as well, picking up the damn blasting sound in the air, turning their attention toward it, toward the south.

“FIRE THE FLARES!” Rick shouted over the peeking honking, raising his arm again as the walkers started dispersing through the tree lines, drawn to the sound. “THEY’RE WANDERING OFF!”

They all started firing the flares at the same time at the ridgeway, but it was already too late. Rick eyed the few yards between them and the walkers as they traipsed their way up to them. He brought the radio over his mouth and gave his last order before he started running, “RETREAT! EVERYONE, FALL BACK!” he yelled. “FALL BACK!”

# # #

The porch under their feet shook just before they rushed in their house to find Judith and Mika, a deep honking engulfing them as big dust of cloud rose in the sky from their left side where the main entrance was.

Carl spun toward it, narrowing his eyes, and saw that their walls’ metal plates and the wooden legs of the watch platform above it were shaking. “What’s that?” Clarice shouted over the blaring sound, covering her ears, bending down in reflex. Enid was motionless, not flinching even a muscle even though everything had turned to hell in the town, like she was just a viewer passing by, watching it disinterested. Carl knew how it felt, and he wondered briefly if the others looked at him like that when Carl had been like her. Had been? Had he changed?

The question momentarily halted his steps as he ran towards the end of the left side to see better, but he pushed the thought away from his mind. When he saw the damaged wall and watch platform over the main entrance, Carl understood what had happened. “The wall is hit!” he shouted back. “They hit the watch platform!”

“What?” Clarice ran to his side. “But the barricade… The road was closed!”

Carl shook his head, looking up in the sky, listening to the blasting damn sound. It—it sounded like a…honk of a big truck. “I don’t know. Go inside the house and find Mika and Judy!” he told the girls, throwing the key Carol had given them to Clarice. “I’m gonna check it!”

“Carl!” Clarice yelled behind him as Carl sprinted down from the porch’s steps.

“Go back inside and close the door!” Carl shouted back. He couldn’t take her with him this time. He needed to find out what was happening, but someone had to go protect Judy and Mika. This time it was Clarice’s job. He halted for a split second to look over his shoulder to see Clarice was still looking after him on the porch beside Enid.

“Cler!” Carl shouted again, “Go protect Judy!”

The order or his desperate plea to protect his sister made it to her. Giving him a quick but firm nod on the porch, Clarice rushed toward the screen door and opened and got lost behind it.

Carl ran to the main gate.

A man suddenly appeared on his way. Wasting no time, Carl just shot him and got him down. A group of three quickly replace them and Carl swore, but before they could even make a move, Nicholas sneaked behind them and cut one of the men as Carl shot another. Quickly they took of care the last man and stood at the leg of the watch platform.

“What happened?” Carl questioned even though it was obvious.

“Something hit the watch platform! I think a truck—” Nicholas quickly answered, checking the perimeters. “Did you see Steve?”

Carl shook his head. “No. I just came down from our house.”

“Steve was up, I was checking the ground.” He shook his head. “C’mon, let’s go up. We need to find Steve.”

They needed to learn what the hell was happening. The damn sound was still blaring in the air, possibly drawing every damn walker in their nine miles radius.

“Amanda is still down in the sewers?” Carl asked on the ladder. The wooden platform shook with each step they took, and Carl wondered about the damage it had taken, or if it was still safe to climb.

“Yeah,” Nicholas answered, pausing for a second as the platforms shook tremendously, making them grip the ladder tightly. “Never seen her again after we broke off.”

She still had to be down, but she must have heard of the honking. It was impossible not to. Carl wondered then if his father heard it out there, wondered if they had fucked it up, ruining their plan, but he didn’t have a radio to check on with him.

“We gotta stop this damn thing!” Carl yelled at Nicholas instead, climbing the ladder faster. If the herd that his father was trying to herd up heard this, they were doomed. It was as simple as that.

Steve nodded as if he also understood the gravity of their situation. “Yeah.”

Upon the top of the platform, Steve Malkin was still nowhere, but Carl saw the big truck that hit the platform and wall just like they’d surmised, and he recognized the vehicle as soon as his eyes fell on its side.

Del Arno Foods trucks.

So he wasn’t also shocked to see two or so dozens of walkers already circled by it, trying to get through the wall, banking themselves along with the metal plates. The clashing sound they made was swallowed by the honking sound of the truck with their growls and snarls, and Carl felt his stomach coiled when his eyes fell upon the right side of the truck, a pile of walkers circled something, bent down.

Carl understood what it was. He’d seen it many, many times before, how the walkers attacked and devoured you when you fell. Steve Malkin. It was him. The man must have fallen when the big food truck hit and became food for the walkers inside the food truck.

“Is that—” Nicholas whispered beside them, holding the guardrails that were still shaking. “Is that Steve?”

Carl tightened his grip as well. “Yeah.” He paused for a second again. “He must have fallen.”

Nicholas made a retching sound, Carl stayed silent before he repeated. “We still need to go down and stop this thing.”

Nicholas’s face snapped at him. “Do you want to go down there?”

Carl nodded firmly. “The honk draws the walkers to us. If it keeps going, we’re gonna be surrounded by every walker in nine miles radius.”

The other man glanced down at the truck and the walkers. “Yeah. Do you have a plan?”

Yeah, he had. He jumped on the guardrail, straddling it. “We climb down and jump on the roof of the truck. I’ll try to squeeze the side window inside and silence the honk. You cover my back.”

Carl glanced down. The platform’s legs weren’t sturdy, but they would hold. “And the walkers down?” Nicholas questioned.

“They’re on the ground, and busy at the moment,” Carl answered, tentatively putting his right foot on the triangle of the corner of the platform. “We do this before more of them join up to them.” He tilted his head down at the gathered walkers down there. More were already coming up from the side streets in front of Alexandria, trudging in the area they had over the walls. It was the plains his Deanna wanted for expansion, and his father considered planting in the future beside the flowerbeds inside the town. Right now, it was the playground of the walkers. The dead had already heard the shooting sounds when the attack had started, this honking made it even worse.

“Perhaps we find Amanda first?” Nicholas asked him before following him down, raising his voice over the honking.

“No,” Carl yelled back, shaking his head as he eased himself down along the wooden leg toward the truck’s roof. “The walkers are already coming up. We can’t wait. We need to shut this down.”

The leg shook again as Nicholas followed him and Carl closed his eyes for a second, holding the length of it tighter. They couldn’t wait. They had to do this now.

The wood trembled and groaned with each step they made down, and for a second, losing his grip on his only hand, Nicholas slid down. Carl grabbed the older man at the last moment as he passed him by with his right hand.

He let out a rough groan as the weight of the man pulled him down, his other hand circling the platform’s leg tighter, as Nicholas grabbed the leg again with his arm. “Ya okay?” Carl asked with laboring breaths, understanding what he was asking the man to do.

But Nicholas nodded firmly, looping his arm and stump around the wooden platform again. “Yeah.”

When they finally managed down and jumped on the roof of the truck, the walkers’ attention nearby drifted toward them, hearing the loud sound they made even over the blasting honking sound. The dead in the outer ring lifted their heads and came up at the side of the truck, banging themselves at the truck to get them. The heights gave them higher ground and safety, and they still had their guns for protection although Carl wouldn’t dare to use them and draw more attention to themselves.

But the problem became apparent when they checked the windows on both sides and found out that they were shut closed. “Goddammit!” Nicholas swore loudly, drawing away from the edge after he checked the left side as Carl did the same at the right side. Over the closed windows, he saw a walker chained on the wheel on the other side, possibly also making the honk blare after he hit the wall. The walker was still animated.

Carl closed his eyes for a second before he remarked, “We need to break the glass, get in and kill it.”

The older man nodded. “All right. You hold my legs and lower me down—” he replied. “I’ll try to break it with my knife’s hilt and kill it.”

Carl wanted to say he would do it, he was faster and more agile, but the division of labor couldn’t have been in any other way. Nicholas couldn’t hold him with his stump as he fought with the walker and they needed to do this now. His eyes scanned the empty grounds now that were filling with walkers from every direction.

As the man lay down on the roof at the right side, drooping his upper torso over the edge at the right side of the truck, Carl held the man’s ankle over his pants. When the walkers noticed him dangling over the edge, they became more agitated, trying to reach up to him from the ground, their rotting hands trying to claw him, but they still had the higher ground. Carl raised on his toes, trying to peek down as he held Nicholas suspended. “Let me go a bit further—” the other man yelled him back, the damn honking still blasting in their ears. “I can’t reach the window.”

Loosening his grip, taking a few steps further toward the edge, Carl did it. His weight must have been almost twice as Carl’s, the muscles of his arms stretched and strained more with each passing minute as Carl held him upside down, but he didn’t give up. Even though he couldn’t hear the growls and snarls of the walkers getting excited, he felt the roof shaking under his feet as the walkers attacked the truck further.

“Nicholas—” Carl shouted as the steel plate shook even worse.

His feet slid when Nicholas answered, “I’m breaking the window—whoa!”

Carl stopped over the edge of the roof, Nicholas holding the passenger side’s door with his hand as his stump waved in the air, trying to hold himself on balance in the air, his body twisted up away from the walkers who were still trying to take him down.

Carl let out a swearing word his father would have shouted at him ‘language’ under normal circumstances. But this wasn’t anything normal at all. “Get up!” he screamed, trying to hold on to the man tighter. “Get inside.”

Raised on his toes, Carl would see him again trying to break the window, freeing his grip on the door’s handle, the older man’s weight straining his muscles more, and throwing his head back, Carl yelled with pain as pain shot through his arms, his grip slipping, he felt his hands slithering down toward his boots…

“I’m getting in…I’m getting in—”

Carl closed his eyes, still shouting, trying to hold on to Nicholas, his hands slipping—every inch of his arms hurting—

Suddenly it all stopped, no weight on him as Carl looked down and stared at his empty hands.

In a heartbeat, he rushed to the edge and saw Nicholas down on the ground, his good arm up in the air, trying to reach out for something, for him as the walkers started devouring him. His screams grew louder and louder, mixing with the ringing of the honking until only his face became visible as walkers circled him completely.

Drawing his gun, Carl aimed for the man, their eyes meeting, and he looked like he was begging Carl for mercy. For a split second, Carl remembered his mother, how she looked at him, her beautiful eyes still open after she bid him good night before Carl pulled the trigger.

Looking at the man’s clear blue eyes, Carl pulled the trigger one more time.

Notes:

Poor Carl...I just had to do this, although I really felt sad for Nicholas and Carl, but it had to be done because I didn't want to reduce the gravity of the Wolves' attack. Sorry.

I won't deny that I've been waiting for a long while to make Amanda and Owen have a face-off, too, Owen even spoiling her for Negan, not once but twice!
The quote in the chapter's title is something I read a long time ago in a story not related to TWD, and as I wrote these parts, I remembered it and wanted to use it for Amanda because I really think it showed perfectly Amanda's mentality and willpower when she told Owen 'she is saving him'.

So the next, we will see how Rick and Alexandria will deal with the situation as the herd also started to fan off drawn toward Alexandria. Poor guys, can't catch a break. Hehe. Evil writer here.

Chapter 52: 'Where's Rick?'

Summary:

As Amanda waits for Rick and the others to return, Alexandria getting circled with the walkers after the Wolves' attack, Rick decides to start over with the herd.

Notes:

Oh god, I felt SO motivated and excited for this chapter, finished it earlier than I anticipated. Yay! Reviews, being in contact with you motivates me like nothing else :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The town was silent now, and it felt even worse than not hearing those damn blaring honking that tore in the air. Amanda wondered what had caused it and who shut it down, but it was going to have to wait now. She tightened her grip on Tobin who was supporting his weight on her while dragging him to the infirmary. She had found the man on her way to the infirmary, holding his wound at his side. He had another one at his calf, making it for him hard to walk.

Smokes were raising all over the town. Amanda had seen half of the solar panels were broken, burned houses, destroyed fences, and wounded or dead people on the streets, caught unaware. People were trying to make their ways in the infirmary like they were, some alone, some with help.

She scanned the grounds again, trying to spot hostiles. The men were running away now, their supplies shouldered on their backs. They had come in Alexandria in a sudden attack, plundering and sacking town as fast as possible until Alexandria recuperated, and now they were pulling back.

The amount of damage these animals had done less than half of an hour was becoming more visible in their wake. And it was only the beginning. She wanted to regroup her teams again and go out to chase after them, but she didn’t dare leave the grounds again, not until she made sure the town was secure and they were okay.

“Where’s Carter?” Amanda asked, craning her neck up to look at Tobin. “Have you contacted Rick?”

Had that damn blasting sound been heard in the woods, they had given Rick and the others a worse problem to handle. They needed to find out what exactly had happened, how many walkers were out now outside the walls. The dead around their vicinity certainly must have heard it and must be on their way. They had to be prepared. Rick and the others were still outside, and the honking really was heard up at north, they were really in deep shit. Imaging Beth outside now gave her shudders, cursing herself to let her go. She knew she couldn’t have stopped the teenage girl anymore, but she still felt responsible. Rick was with her, he would protect her, but Amanda just wanted them back now.

 “I don’t know. We don’t have the radio. We were on the second platform when the truck hit the wall and jumped down to help the others. Steve…he fell.”

“He fell?”

Tobin nodded again. “He was at the guardrails. The impact threw him down on the ground. There were walkers too.”

Amanda shuddered, closing her eyes. “We wanted to go and help Nicholas, but we were attacked, too.”

“How did the truck come?” Amanda asked, focusing on the truck instead of the fact that she had lost another good man in the fight, the amount of their loss becoming bleaker. “Did you see it?”

“No, but it must have run down the barricade we have at the intersection outside Alexandria. It was a big truck. I saw Del Arno Food script on the side.”

Amanda felt icy fingers gripping her chest, tightening over her heart. If the Wolves somehow were still around Del Arno, then they might have seen Rick and his group out there, closing on them. “Who stopped it?” Amanda questioned further. “Did you see it, too?”

“No. We were trying to deal with the others. One of them hooted, then they left us—” Tobin replied. “Carter then left me and went to find the others as I started to make toward the infirmary.”

Amanda wanted to rush back and see what had happened with her own eyes, to check on the kids and make sure they were all okay, but she couldn’t leave the man to suffer like this without help. She also wondered if Aaron and Eric had brought Ron back safely. Everything was falling apart. Even in victory, they were falling apart. She feared the infirmary was going to be even worse, too.

Like she had expected, the porch was full of people, the clamor already drifting out from inside. Carol was there, and although Amanda wasn’t surprised to see the older woman in the same disguise as herself, she was surprised to see her there. Who was staying with Mika and Judy now?

She quickened her steps, dragging the older man further, and climbed on the porch. “Carol! What’re you doing here?” she questioned. “Who’s with Judith and Mika?”

“Carl, Clarice, and that new girl. I saw them outside and sent them to the kids before I came to the infirmary.”

Amanda made out a frustrated sound, giving the injured man to Carol. “I’m going to check them. You stay here with Joan. She’s gonna need you.”

Carol nodded. “That’s why I came.”

“Do you know if anyone contacted Rick yet?” she asked, climbing back the porch’s steps. “We need to talk to him and learn what’s happening on their side,” she went on quickly. “If they heard that honking, the herd might have broken loose.”

“I don’t think if anyone has managed to think of it yet…” Carol told her pointedly.

Amanda made another frustrating sound, and instead of running to their house to check on the kids, she rushed to the armory for the radio base station. Nicholas must have had the other handheld radio after the one she had got broken in the explosion, but she didn’t want to go hunting for the man in the town.

Half of the armory was still burning, and Olivia, Beatrice, and Maria were trying to put the fires down with fire extinguishers. None of them seemed injured, Amanda noticed gladly, but when they turned toward her as she approached, she saw soot over their faces. It was then Amanda remembered she must have been in the same condition, too, even though she still didn’t feel the pain of her injuries. There was still too much adrenaline coursing in her body for that.

“They threw a Molotov cocktail—” Olivia told her, turning her head away from the fire extinguisher as she sputtered the compressed carbon dioxide toward the fires. Amanda felt glad that the dynamites were still in the sewers. She’d seen them where she’d left them returning to the town, and she needed to gather a team to go down and retrieve them in case those animals returned for them.

There were so many things to do in the chaos as they drifted away, Amanda couldn’t decide what to do first. People were scurrying in the town like headless chickens in panic and shock, some trying to get to the infirmary, some trying to put down the fires, some just standing in the roads stunned, staring ahead. Their priority was to spend those fires as soon as possible before they caused even worse damage. They needed to start an inventory to figure out what was stolen, broken, or burned. In other words, they needed a council meeting.

The needs were clashing with her wants again as Amanda felt torn. She wanted to see Ron and checked on him, wanted to make sure Judy and Mika were safe and protected. She wanted to retrieve their goods and supplies and close the sewers exit, and she damn wanted to hear Rick’s voice again! She wanted him to tell her they were on their way, coming back soon. She wanted him to tell her Beth was safe and with him. She wanted him to tell her everything was going to be okay. Even though she wouldn’t believe it, she just wanted to hear it from him.

“Were you able to hear from Rick?” she questioned, pushing her wishful thinking down.

Olivia shook her head, pausing her job to answer her as Beatrice and Maria continued. “No,” she replied. “They hit us with Molotov cocktails after that sound started.”

These animals were truly like plunderers, taking whatever they could and burning what they left behind. There’re only two kinds of people in the world now. The ones who take and those who are getting took.

The words rose bile to her throat but Amanda pressed them down with her anger. If not today, they were going to avenge their losses one day. Looking at the burning pantry, Deanna’s half-demolished house, the chaos in the streets, Amanda swore on it.

Leaving the women to their job, Amanda rushed back to their house. It was crystal clear in her. Her needs might be clashing with her wants, but there was also a need that she felt as strongly as ever. She needed to know the kids were safe before she got down the business to pull up the town and find out what was happening with Rick and Beth. She couldn’t have done otherwise. She just had to.

Out on the porch, sitting on the steps, Amanda saw Carl, his head bowed, looking down at his hands. Blood. They were blood on his hands. Amanda suppressed a shudder, approaching the teenager.

“Carl?” she slowly asked at the first step.

Carl lifted his head. “They hit the wall with one of those trucks we saw at the Del Arno—” he told her flatly, looking back at her.

“Nicholas?” Amanda roughed out breathless, not caring anymore how the bastards had passed through their barricade on the crossroad. “Did you see him? I need his radio.”

“He…fell,” Carl said with an emotionless voice. “They both fell. Steve Malkin and him.”

Amanda felt her heart seizing worse looking at the forlorn expression over Carl’s face. “Carl, what happened?” she inquired, getting closer. “Tobin told me he saw Steve Malkin falling over the watch platform, but Nicholas was on the ground.”

“We went up to the platform together and jumped down on the truck’s roof to silence it,” he explained with that flat, monotonous voice devoid of any emotion. “There was a walker chained to the wheel inside, and the windows were closed. I dangled Nicholas so he could break the window to get in. But he lost his balance and I dropped him.”

Amanda trembled… “Carl.”

“In the middle of the walkers—” Carl completed. “Then I shot him before they started eating him.”

“Carl…”

“I shot Mom like that after she died so she wouldn’t turn. This is how I saw her the last time…how I’m always gonna remember her…with a bullet in her head.”

Amanda didn’t know what to say, so she just sat down beside him on the steps and took him in her embrace. Much like in the woods that night when Amanda had grasped his hand, Carl didn’t pull back, didn’t hug her back, but let her hold him.

They stayed like that for a while, Carl dropping his head on her shoulder, and Amanda strained her ears to understand if the teenager was crying but she didn’t hear anything. There was so much mourning inside her now she couldn’t even know where to begin. Nicholas, Steve Malkin, the men who had trusted and believed in her, wanting to be a part of her teams, and she’d lost them today. A part of her felt like a failure again mourning them as the other part knew they had died protecting their people, their home. Amanda swore they would avenge them. She briefly brushed her lips over Carl’s hair as a promise.

“I went down inside then, killed the walker chained to the wheel,” Carl mumbled, “stopped the honking.”

“Thank you—” Amanda whispered, even though it sounded absurd, she still didn’t know what else to say.

Carl pulled himself back. “Judith and Mika are inside with Clarice and Enid. They protected them.”

“I gotta go—” she told the teenager, standing up. “I need to round up the others. You stay with Judy.”

“Yeah. I’ll stay with Judy,” he confirmed, and Amanda couldn’t have been more grateful to hear it. “Have you talked with Dad?”

Amanda jerked her head. “No. Nicholas was with the other handheld radio,” she explained why she had been looking for the man. “They sacked and burned the armory and pantry. I couldn’t get in for the radio station.”

Carl gave her a look, and this time Amanda saw the same worry and concern in his eyes too. “Do you think they are okay?”

The truthful answer would be telling him that she didn’t know, but it was unlikely. The Wolves were scattered and that damn deep honking must have echoed and drifted out in the woods, breaking the lines of the herd. All the facts were pointing out that they must be in deep shit out there, but Amanda didn’t want to be truthful. She wanted to be hopeful.

“Yeah,” so she told Carl, nodding. “They’re okay.”

She almost believed in it, too.

She left the young boy guarding their house and his baby sister and headed toward the watch platform to check the situation with her own eyes. When the snarls and growls with metallic clash greeted her as soon as she got closer to the wall, Amanda realized her worst fear was coming through. The dead were circling them.

Carter caught her beside the main gate, his face color of the ash, listening to the sounds of the walkers outside. “I try to follow up everyone, but I don’t know how many of us fell,” he told her as Amanda nodded before the man continued, “I sent Aaron and Eric to check the houses one by one. Gabriel checks the infirmary.”

Amanda nodded again wordlessly before she started climbing up. “Gather up everyone who isn’t wounded in the council in the community center. We need to talk.”   

The wooden structure trembled and groaned with each step she made up, but Amanda didn’t stop. She had to see it, see how things were outside. Like she’d expected, their situation was worse. A ring of the walkers had already encircled the whole town as they clawed and bang themselves at the metal plates.

If Rick and the others weren’t coming soon, they were going to have a hell of problems getting them inside the town.

Climbing down on the ground, Amanda wondered how she could get in contact with them, learn what was happening with them and warn them what had happened in the town. In the worst scenario, they could try to get them inside using the sewers as the Wolves did, but to do that, they needed to contact each other to direct them to the egress point in the woods.

Her head swirling with thoughts and precautions, Amanda headed back to the infirmary to check the situation there.

The clamor rang in her ears as soon as she marched uphill, smoke and gasoline filling her nostrils worse, the sounds and shouts overflowing out of the white house. She saw Spencer out on the porch, looking for his parents that Amanda had taken out of their house. After quickly reassuring the young man that they were safe and okay, she sent him to help Beatrice and Maria to put down the fires in the town with everyone else who wasn’t wounded.

Inside the infirmary, there was utter chaos as Joan and Carol dashed around the room, checking one wounded to another. Father Gabriel was making the count as Carter had advised and Eugene had somehow ended up in the infirmary, helping the two women. Each bed was occupied, some less wounded were laid down on the ground on the thick blankets because they were out of the beds. She quickly counted at least a dozen people, but only four or so heavily wounded. The rest of the crowd weren’t wounded, but the ones who had carried their friends or family members to the infirmary or came up when they saw her making it there.

Her eyes wandered around, Amanda found what she was looking for at the furthest corner in the left, secluded from the rest of the room, the curtains around the sickbed were half-drawn, but enough open to let her have a peek inside.

What Amanda saw made her steps falter, her chest contracting for the last time.

Ron was lying in the bed on his back, his face fully covered with white bandages that were spotted with big dots of red. Only the tip of his nose, his eyes, and his mouth were visible, and somehow Amanda was sure the rest of the body was in the same condition too. Three of his fingers were missing from his right hand as it lay limp on the bed at his side.

Her eyes prickled as Carol found her while Amanda stared at the mummy of a human body alive that she had known once as a young man. “He won’t make it,” the older woman spoke lowly. “You should’ve put him out of his misery down there.” Her voice was as taciturn as Carl’s, devoid of any emotion as Carol glanced at Jessie who was knelt over the bed. “Shouldn’t have brought him back.”

Her own drew toward the blond woman over her son’s bed, too, staring at her. Suddenly as if she felt Amanda’s gaze, Jessie lifted her head and a long, painful scream erupted interiors.

“You caused this!” the words blared in the air everything else in the infirmary’s chaos as Jessie lunged forward at her. The woman’s nails clawed at her face again, but Amanda didn’t react, did nothing to stop her.

The broken sharp nails drew blood from her skin together with soot and dirt as Joan and Carol held the woman.  “You did this to him!”

Even after the other two women pulled her off Amanda and Joan sedated her, Jessie’s painful accusing cries echoed in her ears in anguish with Carol’s words.

# # #

Running wildly in the woods brought back memories to Beth. She remembered how wildly she ran to the woods in the dusk with Daryl and Carl, Judy in her arms, tears running freely over her cheeks, the way katana blade fell on her father’s neck in her mind.

Beth jerked her head to shoo away the sudden memory flashing over her eyes. It was different this time. Everything was different. It wasn’t dusk, but broad daylight. The woods then were silent after the fight they had in the prison, now that blaring honking voice was tearing off the sky. Her arms were free, and Carl wasn’t with her this time, but there was Dylan, just in her heels. The question then found her as she ran…where they were running to? She knew what they were running from, they were running away from the walkers, but where they were going to, Beth had no idea.

Rick just had told them to fall back a couple of minutes ago, but she had no idea where they were going. They were going back to Alexandria as Daryl had done?

She picked up her speed to ask Rick, her long legs quickly closing the distance between them. When she came beside the older man, Beth saw him trying to reach the town. “Amanda! Do you copy?” he barked out at the radio in his right hand as he ran down over the slope. Beth heard the static over the line at the other side, but no answer came back. “Amanda! Olivia! Do you copy?” His voice grew even more frantic, like how he had been in the prison in the attack before he cried out, “Is anyone there?”

 Still no answer.

“Rick!” Beth shouted out to him as he shook his head. “Where are we going?”

Her question slowed his pace before he halted and circled the others around himself, bringing the radio up to his mouth again. “Glenn, do you copy?” Beth understood he was checking on the others. Glenn and his team were still behind them, coming from the other side of the road. They still had at least a five-minute distance between them as they stormed down off over the hills in the woods back.

“Aye, Rick, we’re right behind you—” Glenn confirmed, and Beth let out a small sigh of relief that was swallowed by the deep rough hooting in the air.

“Rick—” Daryl’s voice came up too, “What’s happened, man? What’s that honkin’?”

“Fall back to Del Arno,” Rick yelled an order, instead of answering directly. “We’re gonna regroup there. We need to keep up—” His words stopped in the middle when the blaring sound suddenly cut off and everything fell in silence.

“It stopped—” Dylan whispered somewhere behind her. “It stopped.”

Rick bobbed his head, passing the back of his hand with the radio over his forehead to sweep the sweat that was running over his forehead from the end of his locks down to the side of his face and neck, his hair plastered on his face. The collar of his shirt and the parts of his chest and under his armpits were all wet with sweat too, his face reddened under his stubble, his chest falling and rising with his deep rough breaths after their intense cardio exercise.

Beth knew she wasn’t much different. She was heavily, painfully breathing, one hand holding a tree, her head half tilted down. She could feel the wetness over her face and body, her shirt sticking to her chest under her jacket. Dylan’s always stylish hair was plastered on his forehead wet with perspiration too, his cheeks redder without a stubble. He still looked handsome, though, the thought skated over her mind over a split second before she chided herself to think of it now.

Somehow, he also ended up beside her again, and Beth liked that, liked that he had done everything to keep up pace with her even then she didn’t ask him to do it. It felt nice that he covered her back.

“You okay?” she mouthed out in the brief silence, passing her fingers over his.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

“All right—” Rick’s voice cut off their moment, and Beth’s attention snapped at him, her fingers pulling back. “New plan,” he continued. “Whatever happened, it stopped. They must have stopped it.”

“Are we sure it’s coming from Alexandria?” the leader of the new arrivals asked, her eyes narrowed. She was less composed now than Beth ever had seen the woman, her face reddish and wet much like each time, her monotone tone hitched with her laboring breathing.

“The radios aren’t responsive,” Rick admitted. “But whatever happened, happened,” he went on in his usual pragmatic style. “We gotta deal with the walkers again. They’ve fanned out. We gotta bounce them back in line.”

“Do you want to start over?” the woman asked, this time her voice sounding incredulous, but Rick gave a tight nod.

“Yeah. We already did it when the walkers are on the loose. It’s no different.”

“It is different—” Anne snapped back. “We can’t do it again. The barricade wouldn’t hold this time.”

“It would. It has to—” He wandered his eyes over them, giving them a look. Beth recognized that patented Rick Grimes look. He was going to do this even though all of them opposed it. “If anyone wants to leave, leave—” he repeated, “But we do it now.”

“Rick is right—” Beth cut in. “We don’t have time to discuss it. The walkers are closing in on,” she warned. “We gotta do something. Now.”

Giving her a nod back, Rick raised his radio again. “Glenn, move to Del Arno, we start over. Daryl, see what’s happened at home. They don’t answer back.”

The opposition came heatedly after that. “We need him!” Sasha and Abraham spoke up at the same time from their car.

“They might need him back in the town—” Rick replied before Daryl could. Beth wondered if Rick was doing this on his behalf as Daryl had already left to go back, giving him a reason to return even when they needed him now more than any time. If they were going to regroup the walkers as they did with themselves, they were going to need Daryl and his bike.

“Aye—” Daryl only said back, and Beth heard the motor’s reverberating louder from the radio as he must have picked up speed.

Abraham shot out a swear. “C’mon, let’s go—” Rick only said before they started running again.

It had become a habit that Beth wasn’t fond of anymore, running madly in the woods, the walkers at their heels. Somehow, it felt different than the nursery when they had become circled by the dead. The same zest, the will to survive and outrun them was still in her, but it didn’t give that high energy that coursed through her body like a wildfire like she was on something.

But how Beth would ever know? She had never been high on something.

Was it something on her list?

It was then Beth remembered she had forgotten about her list for a while. Since she had joined Dylan on the watches. The thought almost brought out a smile and Beth swallowed it at the last moment.

God, she hoped she wasn’t going to die out here today because suddenly she felt she was looking forward to living and seeing what the future might bring her. Her eyes cut over to Dylan who was still running beside her, and before she could stop himself, she gave him a small smile, reassuring, kind, like one of the things Beth used to do, and it felt nice.

Right that moment, she heard a cry.

She swiveled round to look at the source of it, her eyes widening when she saw a man from Anne’s group got bitten, his screams shooting in the air in pain, but it wasn’t why her eyes jerked up because behind her another walker had grabbed Dylan from his back, too, and was trying to get a bite from his neck.

With a cry, Beth lunged forward and stabbed the dead in the eye. She twisted to Dylan frantically, searching for his neck. Around them, the walkers were attacking, a small group that had managed to catch up with them.

When the element of surprise died off, they quickly took care of it, but not Beth. Beth was still checking Dylan’s neck as he looked at her with a puzzled look. She knew she had stopped the walker, but she couldn’t help herself. She had to be sure. She had to. She couldn’t lose him, too. There was a part of her that screamed at her to pull herself back, the part that screamed at her what was what happened when you let your guard down and started caring again, that part that told her no one was ever coming back, but Beth couldn’t find in her to listen to it.

“Beth!” Rick’s voice erupted behind them, “Don’t stay there like that!” he barked out. “Get into the formation!”

At that moment, she also understood they were forming a defense line because more of the walkers were coming up.

They moved back toward the hill’s side that they had come down from, to secure their backs. Their left side was opening to the cliff where the slope ended. Fifty feet below, there was an arm of Potomac that snaked around at the valley’s base.

It was a good position to hold their grounds if the walkers were shot up, their backs and one side secure. Three of them were already down until they had formed up the line, two of Anne’s people and Francine. Beth felt sad for the girl, she’d liked her from the watches.

She wondered how many people they were going to lose today before they made it back home. The other question was within her, too, how many people they had already lost today. Were Carl and Amanda fine? Judy? Mika and Carol? She prayed for her family, prayed that they were safe. It was her first prayer after a long time.

But they were here now, and they had to do this, just like Rick had said. For them. Because if they didn’t do it now, then they were going to need to do it in Alexandria.

Beth had the same doubts and reservations as each of them. She didn’t trust the barricade, it was filled up by the dead from their first round, their flares were half gone, and their numbers were already dwindling, but there was no option. Some would call it impossible, but Beth had been there to hear Rick’s answer for that when they had called his plan with the same thing.

No. It’s necessary.

And it was just that. No more, nor less.

She swept a look at Dylan who stood beside her, looking perplexed and afraid. For a split second, Beth wondered if he’d accepted to come out with the teams because she wanted to go but would’ve stayed back had Beth stayed too. The answer blossomed in her like the first sap of a spring flower after a harsh winter when Dylan returned her look.

They attacked the walkers together. It was the first time Beth had ever done this with him, their watches had gone pretty much eventless, but they worked together effortlessly.

“Hold the flanks—” Rick shouted in the middle of their line as more walkers poured down from their right side down from the hill.

But something was different, she picked it up quickly as she noted hooded faces and long coats between the walkers. It wasn’t only the walkers, it took her a couple of seconds to realize, in the middle of the walkers, there were also the Wolves. They were attacking together with the herd.

His eyes storming stern curt blues, Rick yelled, “Attack! Storm them off!”

There was nowhere to pull back now, nowhere to go, but onward. Their backs were facing the hill, their left side opening to the cliff, and from their right side, the army of the dead and walkers were raining down.

In the middle of the walkers, Beth saw the Wolves wearing the body limbs that they had cut off from their victims, but she knew now they weren’t only souvenirs. They were their battle armor, to disguise themselves in the middle of the dead when it was necessary.

Beth hoped they weren’t returning from Alexandria, and those body parts adorning them didn’t use to belong to the people she loved and cared for. The thought filled her with fury, the injustice of it. They were like animals, like how Amanda had claimed.

With the firepower they had, they still had a better advantage even in the open fight. They were fucking with the wrong people, just like Amanda had said, but it seemed they still hadn’t learned their lessons. It was okay. They were going to do it now.

Rick led them in the fight, slowly but decisively pushing them back in the woods, sweeping the ground clean to move on to Del Arno before the rest of the herd joined them. They needed to hurry. Even though they were gathering up the flock with their fighting, this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

A hand grabbed her from her short ponytail as Beth jerked her head away from its grasp. Dylan shot the walker, freeing her just like she’d done, but at the same time, a Wolf attacked him, punching him at his side. Dylan doubled, holding his stomach, his face becoming so red with pain, Beth scared that he’d stopped breathing. The Wolf was above him, quickly Beth raised her arm to aim, and took him down just as the moment, another man attacked her, drawing her back to the hillside.

Her back hit the rocky surface. Stars exploded over her sight as the man smashed her head back the hard stone, pain erupting in her every inch of nerves. Beth tried to push him off herself, but his grip was on her was so tight, she knew it was naught. Pushing down the pain, she tried to imagine what Amanda would want her to do in that position, how to play smart to get herself safe, not fighting to win.

Her leg raising, she kneed the man at his groin with all strength she could muster up.

Beth had been always gawky and bony, and today it was to her advantage. The man howled with pain, bending in front of her. She tried to break free then, but he grabbed her almost blindly, swirling her in the air like she was nothing—pushing her toward the cliff—

She flew over, screaming, her eyes widening at the fighting happening all around here. This was how she was going to die, she thought for a split second. Flying off over a cliff. She had never thought her life would have ended up like this, not after the prison, not after her daddy, not after Maggie. Had she closed her eyes and only listened to the sounds of the water down below there, blocking the sounds of the fighting and the snarls and the growls of the walkers, she could have even called it peaceful.

She wondered briefly if it was going to hurt when she hit the water. She hope it wouldn’t. It all felt like she was frozen in time as she flew backward, thoughts going in her mind in the speed of light as her eyes watched the fight ahead of her.

Dylan was still at the hillside fighting with his attacker. A few feet away from him, Anne and her people were fighting their own battles. She saw Heath and his team, and a couple of the other people she couldn’t remember their names and looked for Rick. It was a pity she couldn’t say goodbye to Glenn, but she at least wanted to see Rick, tell him it was okay. She was sad because she couldn’t see Amanda, couldn’t say goodbye to her only remaining sister, but she didn’t want her to blame Rick for this. Beth wanted her to know it was okay. She held no grudge for anything.

Her feet slid more, her arms stretched out in the air, then suddenly a blur passed over her eyes, and something jumped on her, throwing her aside from the cliff’s edge. Her head snapped aside as she fell on the ground just over the edge, the last thing Beth saw was Rick as he flew off over the cliff after saving her from the fall.

# # #

Amanda walked into the community center. Deanna was there this time, soot still over her face. She wasn’t sure it was their last talk that had made the woman finally out of her grieving, or the attack, or the combination of both, but she couldn’t have been gladder to see the older woman again.

Jessie and Carol’s words had accompanied Amanda from the infirmary to here, but as she stepped in the lounge room, she locked them away. She did what she had to. She couldn’t have left Ron down there even though it would’ve been a mercy to end his suffering. She couldn’t do it. It couldn’t be her decision.

She didn’t kid herself, though. The boy wasn’t going to survive, he was tortured to death, and seeing him like that, seeing your child like that. Carol was right on that. If she could, she would’ve never let Jessie see her son like that. Never.

The image was still so fresh in her mind, branding her. She wanted to go out and hunt down those animals to the last the man, kill them with her own hands. Fury was a living thing inside her, beating in her heart with each breath she took, with little snapshot she remembered, with each step she took in the raided town. It would’ve been easier just to go out and look for them. Yet, duty came first. Her people still needed her here with them.

Carter must have Denise from somewhere, too, and both women were working on the same ledger. Reg had replaced Tobin in the council, who was still in the infirmary.

“Can you manage to contact Rick and the others?” Carter asked as soon as she took a seat at the round table.

Amanda shook her head. “No. Olivia, Beatrice, and Maria are trying to put down the fires in the armory. When they were retreating, they also put it on fire. They possibly understood they couldn’t clear it out, so they tried to burn it.”

“The classic vandalism and plundering—” Deanna snipped between her teeth, lifting her head from the books. “How much have we managed to save from the pantry?”

Amanda gave another shake of her head. “It’s too early to say now.”

“We need to make sure to save it first.”

“I saw Spencer,” Amanda replied. “I told him to gather everyone who isn’t wounded and put down the fires.”

“Causalities?” the old woman demanded the next, and her answer was like the first one:

“It’s too early to say now.”

“Father Gabriel, Aaron, and Eric are working on it—” Carter cut in. “We need to have the reports immediately. I saw a half of the solar panels and accumulators are broken.”

“The watch platform and main gate—” Amanda went on, turning to both men who had built the wall. “I went up the platform. It’s holding up now, but it’s not secure. If it breaks down, we’re gonna have it worse.”

Reg stood up. “I’m gonna find Tobin and check it.”

“He’s in the infirmary—” Carter gave him direction as Amanda turned to them again.

“We need to think what to do with the rotters—” she started after the older man left the lounge room, telling them her worst fear. “They are coming up. The fighting and the truck’s honking made too much noise. If we get surrounded before Rick and the others return, they are gonna stay outside.”

“What do you suggest?” Deanna asked. “Do we leave to look for them?”

Even though Amanda wanted it, leaving the town was too risky. The truth would be admitting that she didn’t know either, she didn’t know what to do aside from waiting, but all of them looked at her as if she would have an answer. As funny as it was, as absurd as it felt, they were truly looking at her for guidance, even Deanna.

Aaron suddenly rushed into the lounge room in the brief silence between them, looking all excited and anxious. “Daryl is back!”

All of them jolted up at the same moment, Amanda first, already jogging toward the recruiter. “Where is he?” she asked, slightly wondering why the man hadn’t come to find them with Aaron but when Aaron answered, Amanda understood the reason.

“He went to the infirmary.”

“Is he injured?” Denise asked. Amanda knew it wasn’t the reason. No. Even though Daryl was injured, that wouldn’t be the reason. Daryl wanted to see Joan. Amanda just knew it, because when Rick came back he would have wanted to do the same, wanted to see them safe before he did anything else.

But something was still off, Aaron only talked about Daryl. “Where are the others?” Amanda asked, already knowing the answer again.

Aaron shook his head. “He came alone.”

Amanda left the community center quickly after then and went to find the tracker, the rest of their remaining council right at her heels.

“Daryl!” she saw him out on the porch of the infirmary, staring Joan and Carol from outside as the women still dashed inside between the injured people. “Daryl!” Amanda shouted again, sprinting over the steps. “Where are the others?”

“They’re goin’ back to Del Arno. They’ll start over—” Daryl answered her as Amanda stared at the man.

“Start over?” she echoed, astonished. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but she sure didn’t like how it sounded.

“Aye,” Daryl rouged out. “The walkers broke off when those honkin’ started. Rick wants to round up ‘em at Del Arno again.” He paused for a second, shaking his head before he ran down questions at her. “What happened here? Was it that truck? I almost couldn’t get inside.”

“It was the Wolves. They attacked after you left, coming through the sewers,” she quickly explained, but a pinching frown narrowed her eyes. If Rick decided to do it again, turning back to Del Arno, why the hell Daryl was here? They were going to need him on the road. Sasha and Abraham hadn’t returned, so the red muscle car still was leading the remaining cortege, but Daryl had returned… Her eyes cut over the infirmary’s window where Daryl was spying looks inside, his gaze searching for Joan.

Catching her look, understanding that Amanda had understood why he had come back leaving the others, Daryl’s neck and cheeks reddened, looking away. Turning to the man, Amanda decided to leave it there before she demanded, “Tell me what happened in detail.”

Before he was done, Joan’s head suddenly poked out of the closest window. “Amanda, get in. We need to tend your wounds,” the nurse called out firmly, but Amanda shook her head.

“I’m fine—” she clipped. She didn’t want Jessie to see her now, making it harder for the woman. She needed to keep away, and she couldn’t lie down and rest while they were still out there, still trying to follow the plan.

As if she understood her reluctance, Joan ushered out on the porch before she made her way out from the infirmary. In her arms, the woman was carrying a metal tray in which Amanda saw a sponge, bandages, and one of the ointments she had prepared from her herbs.

The nurse quickly started wiping her face and hands with the moist sponge, cleaning soot and dirt from her skin. Soot wouldn’t wash off this easily, Amanda knew, but she still let the woman do it. She didn’t want Rick to see her like this when he returned, feeling bad for what had happened. Her burns started aching worse as Joan gently stroked the sponge on her skin, but Amanda didn’t make a sound. The ointment killed the pain a little when Joan began spreading it over her skin that was covered with rashes, but only a little. Amanda still didn’t make a sound. She would die before she whined from her injures after so many people had suffered worse today. Ron’s bloody, deformed face and missing fingers skated over her eyes at the thought and Amanda chased them away quickly.

They took off her jacket and Joan started cleaning her forearms all the while, her eyes trained on her. Daryl was silent beside her, just staring at the ground, giving them quick covert glances. Amanda wondered if they ever talked after Daryl returned, but the way they were now told her they possibly hadn’t.

“Get inside so we could deal with that—” Joan ordered after she finished bandaging her arms up to her elbows, cocking her head at her thigh where Amanda had wrapped a scarf around her wound.

“No. It’s fine,” she refused, giving the nurse a shake of the head. “I gotta go.”

Before Joan could oppose, Amanda wobbled down from the steps, putting on her jacket, and made her way to the third platform where she could have the best vantage point for the woods. The town was pulling itself up, people scurrying around to their assigned jobs. Someone had to stand guard and wait for them.

She climbed the platform and stared ahead. An hour wouldn’t have passed since the Wolves had run away, but the numbers of the walkers that were circling them had already doubled. It felt like a punch in the stomach, her eyes prickling. Soon it was going to be too late even if they had returned. She tried to think on plans how to get them inside when they returned, but her mind was so tangled, the little dubious worried voices echoing in the dark corridors of it, she couldn’t concentrate enough.

Amanda tried to quench them, tried to tell herself everything was okay. Rick was okay. Beth was okay. Glenn was okay. They all were going to be okay.

God, she hadn’t even said goodbye to him!

The thought cut like a hot razor blade, making her almost double down in tears. They couldn’t have departed like that. Furiously, she jerked her head, refusing the idea, refusing to let it root in her. They were coming back. And, Amanda was going to tell him properly this time. Tell him she was sorry, and she loved him.

He needed to know. God, he needed to know. It couldn’t solve their problems, love, unfortunately, didn’t solve all problems like Deanna had said, Amanda had realized that, but she still wanted Rick to know. She wanted him to know how much she loved him!

Carl found her on the top of the platform a few moments later. Amanda wasn’t surprised. News traveled fast today in Alexandria. She rubbed her pricking dry eyes, passed her hands over her cheeks, and tried to pull herself back together. She couldn’t let Carl see her like this. No. This, waiting for his father to return, had happened to the teenage boy so many times, Amanda had lost the count.

It hurt her worse, too, the pang and seizure in her chest growing deeper as if someone stabbed a wrench in her heart and started twisting her heartstrings.

“He’s coming back—” Carl told her, and Amanda knew the words were to placate himself as much as her. “He always comes back.”

Her throat moved through a lump as she gulped, bobbing her head. It was also the truth, so Amanda believed in it more than anything in life. Rick always came back to his family. “He’s gonna bring everyone back.”

Amanda swallowed, trying to make her voice placid. “We need to make sure we’re ready when they’re back.” When, not if, and Carl nodded with the same resolution Amanda was trying to keep up, too. “We’re getting circled.”

Carl pointed the walkers outside. “Do you have a plan?”

“We can breach the walkers, creating a safe corridor if they arrive soon—” Carl’s expressions shifted, and she quickly added. “If they come back later in the day, we’re gonna get them through the sewers. If the rotters are out there, too, we’ll sweep it clean and get them in.”

The teenager’s eyes turned west toward the sewer’s entrance in the woods. “Is it true it was Ron?” he asked. “He survived the quarry and the Wolves found him?”

Amanda nodded. “Yes. They questioned him. He’s in the infirmary now.” She paused, turning to the boy. “Carl. Don’t go to him. Leave him be—” she softly said, then stopped before she couldn’t find in herself to complete her sentence. Let him die in peace.

Regardless, Carl gave her a tight nod, as if he understood. “Okay.”

Amanda swallowed again tightly, jerking her head toward the dead outside. “Can you go and warn the town to stay quiet?” she asked. “We need to make as little noise as possible now.”

Another nod and Carl left her alone on the platform. Amanda waited.

First, it was little spots of shuffling weeds and moves ahead of her, quick and deft movements on the horizon that alerted her. The dead’s numbers had increased even worse in the last two hours she’d been waiting, circling the town all around, but no rotter would move that quickly.

No. It was people. Alive people.

Her heart beating in her throat, Amanda raised her bino over her eyes and scanned the area she had seen the movements. The next moment she had cried out a sob-laughter, happiness fluttering in her stomach as she spotted Glenn making through the tree lines.

They were coming back. They were going back home.

Next to Glenn, she distinguished Beth, running hand to hand with Dylan. She quickly scanned the rest of the cortege, picking up Heath and his team and Anne and her people. Her heart skipped a beat when she couldn’t see Rick, but he must have taken their six when he sent Glen ahead.

Frantically, Amanda moved her arms to the west. “Go to the sewers—” she screamed, making the rotters down the attack at the platform worse where she stayed on top. “Go to the sewers. We’re circled.”

She didn’t know if they had understood her as they kept advancing toward the main entrance from the woods. There were almost two miles between them now so they couldn’t hear her but she prayed Glenn would think to check on the third platform before they came nearer. From what she made of Daryl’s words, they had realized they were under attack. Rick wouldn’t let them close in without precaution.

Rick also wouldn’t let them approach without taking the lead of the cortege, leaving the point to someone else, another voice argued, but Amanda shut it out. Perhaps something had happened in the way and they had had to divide their forces. Amanda couldn’t spot everyone. Perhaps this was Glenn’s team with Heath. She’d seen Anne, and the damn woman was with Rick, but—

Amanda stopped herself. She shouldn’t speculate.

They were here now. She had seen Beth, had seen Glenn. Rick was here, too. She shouldn’t doubt that.

She waved her arm again toward the west, raising the other with the bino over her eyes. “Go to the sewers—” her voice rang clear in the air, and the dead grew more excited.

They shook the wooden legs, lunging themselves against the logs, the metal platform she stood shook. Amanda grabbed the guardrails, but Glenn and the others still didn’t turn to the west but continued on the east toward the main gate.

Heights!

She needed a higher ground to make them see her!

Quickly darting a look at the rotters had gathered down, Amanda made her decision. It was possibly going to be one of the craziest things she had ever done, but there was no other option. She had to warn them. They couldn’t come any closer.

The guardrail's top surface’s width was less than four inches, so Amanda quickly bent down and took off her boots, then without a thought leaped on the rails. She stood on, anchoring herself curling her toes around the rail’s edge and raising her both white bandaged arms in the air to find her balance. Upon seeing her up there, the rotters on the ground attacked, their excitement reaching its crescendo, driving the platform’s legs madly.

She let her body waver, bending her knees but tightening her stomach muscles to gather more strength to defy the momentum, her arms still waving in the air. It felt like she was on BOSU ball for balance training, the only difference was had she fallen now, she couldn’t have fallen on the exercise mat, but over thirty-foot directly in the middle of the rotters.

Shooing away the thought, Amanda tried to point to the west again. “GO TO THE SEWERS! WE’RE CIRCLED!”

The guardrails trembled and shook at her yelling, and before she started falling forward down, she twirled herself back on the last moment and threw herself backward. She landed on the metal platform on her back and quickly leaped back to her feet again, clawing at her bino.

Turning to the west, she spotted Glenn and saw that the man had stopped, raising his bino to his eyes. Frantically, Amanda started pointing to the west again, screaming, not caring how much the rotters she was gathering down around herself.

A couple of seconds later, Glenn turned to the west, and they started shuffling through the shrubbery back in the woods. Closing her eyes for a small, wordless prayer she wasn’t sure to which deity, she stormed off down the ladder, grabbing her boots with one hand, her feet still in socks.

She saw Aaron and Eric still checking the town as she ran toward the manhole to go down to the sewers. “Find everyone! They’re coming back! I directed them to the sewers. We’re gonna bring them in!”

She quickly put on her boots again and started pushing the lid of the manhole while Aaron and Eric went to pass her word. Carl was with her in a heartbeat as Amanda tried to move the heavy iron plate. Quickly kneeling, he pushed it with her. “They’re coming?”

Amanda nodded. “Yeah. I saw ‘em—” She left the part she hadn’t seen Rick yet. She still wasn’t going to think about that. They were coming back. All of them were coming back. She quickly spied a look and saw his katana blade hanging across his back. “Don’t use guns as long as you absolutely need to,” she reminded, even though she possibly didn’t need to, but she wanted to drive the talk away from Rick before the teenager asked about it. “We need to stay quiet.”

They didn’t know how the exit was. When she had returned to the town, it was clear, but almost three hours had passed since then. The dead were coming toward the wall, drawn to the sounds, and the sewers exit. But they had the numbers, Amanda told herself. Opening up the way, they jumped down, splattering the murky smelly waters. This time they didn’t bother to silence themselves. She took out her flashlight from her duty belt and they started running toward the exit.

Amanda saw the left behind supplies where she’d left them for the last time as they dashed outside. They didn’t counter any problem down in the sewers, but as soon as they stepped outside, she saw the walkers ahead of the tranches they had made to protect the exit.

Their numbers were still manageable, so Carl and she quickly put them down at the other side when they heard heavy footsteps approaching, marching toward them.

They ran toward the sound, and Amanda first saw Glenn again, more people coming up—making a circle around them, but there was no still Rick.

“Where’s Rick?” she whispered at the same time Carl looked around frantically before he screamed out, “WHERE’S DAD?”

There must be an explanation, her mind still insisted even when she saw Glenn’s face and his guilty expression.

Amanda took a step back, her eyes cutting over to Beth.

Suddenly it felt like Shirewilt Estate again, but they had swapped places. This time it was Beth returning to the demolished town instead of Amanda after losing Maggie… Time rewound, and her blue, clouded eyes finding hers, Beth looked at her and shook her head a little.

With a silent cry, her tears breaking, Amanda fell to her knees.

Notes:

I am just gonna run away and hide in a corner, hehe. I JUST couldn't resist making Rick have a fall over the cliff. And doing it for Beth, because he couldn't tell Amanda they lost her, too, returning. But like I said before, Amanda is going to be very, very, very sorry for the way she acted on the platform before he left, not even coming to say goodbye in the morning.

So as we came here, I will be back and upload the remaining chapters the next week! Don't forget/hesitate to tell me what you think, can't even begin to tell how much I enjoy hearing from you! Cheers.

Chapter 53: 'I need to do this now'

Summary:

Not accepting that Rick is gone, Amanda decides to leave to look for him in desperate hope. Beth and Carl join her.

Notes:

Yay, finally this chapter :)
A side note, I've been Covid for two weeks, and finally got my test negative this morning, yay! This week we're closed at work because of power cuts in my country, shutting down all the production; the reason how I've managed to upload so many chapters this week after I got better during the week from Covid. Hehe. The first week was hell, I couldn't even leave bed, had to sleep like one hour after working ten minutes. But I think with the next week, things are gonna turn to normal at my side :) So I will update a couple of chapters during this weekend because a crazy week awaits me when I return to work. Joy.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Dark cold water froze him as the raging waves brought Rick deeper into the depths of the river. His lungs felt on fire, every inch of his body aching with pain from the impact as he tried to fight against the tide. He needed to get to the surface. If he could, he would have tried to take off his boots to lessen his weight, but as the tide fought against him, Rick knew he didn’t stand a chance.

He wanted to save the energy of his freezing body, but he also needed to get himself out of the water. The fall hadn’t killed him, but if he spent more time in the water, the cold or the high tide was going to finish the job.

Forcing himself, not giving up, never giving up, Rick swam to the surface. His ribs hurt worse as his arms flapped in the water but soon the sunlight started glinting above him behind his half-closed eyelids making him realize that he was closing up to the surface. A few seconds later, he emerged out, sputtering water, still fighting against the tide and fierce waves, trying to keep himself above the water.

A blur passed over beside him, a wide branch swirling in the water. Rick threw himself at it, grabbing it and pushing his upper body along it to keep himself afloat. God, he was getting too old for this.

He dropped his arm over the other side of the log, trying to use them as oars to navigate in the fierce water. The flow rate lessened after a couple of minutes and Rick tried to move the wooden log toward the bank. Climbing over the riverbank spent his remaining energy. He shook with painful shivers, sputtering out water and blinking against the sunlight as he lay on his back.

He could vaguely feel his wet clothes clinging to his skin as he tried to decide what part of his body hurt the worst. It was still his ribs. It hurt so much, making breathing so painful that for a split second Rick even thought of holding his breath for a little respite.

God, he needed to move and find himself a shelter before hypothermia started to give him wilder thoughts. Or the Wolves found him. Or the walkers found him. Or the wild animals found him. The dangers in the woods were limitless.

And, Rick could barely walk.

He held the earth after he dropped to his knees after trying to get up, catching his breath before he tried the second time. After he returned to Alexandria, those animals were really gonna regret they had ever crossed paths with them. Not if he returned, Rick told himself adamantly, standing up again, because he was going back, one way or another.

He wasn’t going to die today.

He couldn’t. His children were waiting. There still were so many things that Rick had to teach them. And he couldn’t leave Amanda, not after their last talk on the platform, not after she confessed she had fallen in love with him. He needed to go back and talk with her. Tell her to forget everything, forget everything that had happened between them after they came to Alexandria. Tell her they were going to start over again.

The little dubious, sneering sound in his mind mocked him, reminding him what had happened when he tried to start over with Lori, how much he had screwed up, but Rick quelled it down. He didn’t need to think on that right now. This time things were going to be different. This time history wasn’t going to repeat itself.

He wondered where the others were. He must have lost his radio in the water. The questions swirled in him. If they were okay, if they were going back after the attack, where the walkers were, where were Abraham and Sasha? Were they still driving away, how things were in the town, how Amanda was, how Carl was; so many questions, so few answers.

But still, he had done what he had to do. When he had seen Beth fighting with the man who had grabbed her and threw her over the cliff, Rick knew he had to save her—save the last of the Greenes.

He had failed to save Hershel, failed to save Maggie. He couldn’t watch Beth falling to death. He couldn’t go back and tell Amanda he hadn’t managed to protect Beth. Amanda’s reaction, her anguish flashed over his eyes before Rick threw himself on Beth, driving her away from the edge, but falling over in her stead. He couldn’t have let Amanda suffer through that, and he couldn’t let her suffer through this, either. He had promised her. Back in the funeral home, he had promised her he wasn’t going to die on her.

It was a promise that Rick still intended to keep. They still had so much to live, live together, all of them together. So, slowly, heavily, Rick trudged in the woods to find his way back to his family.

# # #

He fell…

The word turned and turned in her mind in a void as the world swirled around her.

He fell…

She couldn’t comprehend the words, she couldn’t comprehend their meaning. She couldn’t comprehend anything.

He fell…

She couldn’t think anything, couldn’t wrap her mind over it, the world felt as if it consisted of only two words. He. Fell.

Rick fell.

It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. A world without Rick. It was what she couldn’t process; a world without him… A world in which she wasn’t going to see him again, wasn’t going to hold him again, wasn’t going to kiss him again, wasn’t going to lay in his embrace, stroke his chest. A world that they wouldn’t try to put Judith to sleep, wouldn’t read together in the bed, a world they wouldn’t make love, a world they wouldn’t even fight anymore. Amanda couldn’t comprehend such a world.

One day you would think of today and wish you acted differently, wish you would let yourself— Denise’s words from their last session echoed in her, and Amanda cursed herself for not being brave enough, for being that scared of taking risks. Some risks were worth taking. Love didn’t conquer all, yes, but it made life worth living.

And they had all tried to tell her, tried to warn her, but Amanda didn’t listen. And it was too late now, too late. He was gone.

She had lost him. She had lost him forever, without even saying goodbye. Without even saying how much she loved him, how much he, his love meant for her. How he made her life better, how he made her happier, happier than she had ever been. How she had been living in a cage self-constructed before she knew him, hanging by a thread, a puppet made of cold marble, her strings attached to other people.

Her tears hastened, running freely over her cheeks as she bent down completely on her hands and knees. Her tears fell on the ground. They had promised to each other. They weren’t going to die on each other! Why did he leave her now?

Why everyone always abandoned her?

Long, skinny arms enveloped her and took her in her embrace. She lifted her head to look at Beth who had knelt beside her. “Amanda, I-I’m so sorry—” her voice echoed in the cold dark void. “He was trying to save me.”

“What happened?” she croaked out, words felt like beads of glass stuck in her throat, suffocating her.

“W-we were under attack. They found us. We-we fought. Someone tried to throw me off over the cliff. Rick saved me at the last minute, threw me aside. But he fell instead.”

Something—like a flash of realization cut through her dark grief and pain as if she was hit by a crystal bullet at her forehead.

Amanda pushed herself out of her arms and stood up. “Where? Where did it happen?” she demanded, drying her tears.

A fire was lit in her now, a small tinder blossoming out of her chest, spreading every inch of her, coursing through her veins. Hope. It was hope. It was tiny, delicate, as miracles always were, but Amanda clung to it. Perhaps she was just deluding herself, perhaps she was just being a fool, but she didn’t care. They only saw him falling. She had seen Rick managing far worse odds.

“Closer to Del Arno,” Glenn answered. “We were trying to get back, Rick wanted us to try again, but the Wolves attacked us before arrived—” His voice roughed as he gulped. Amanda saw his throat moving, trying to talk again, “We decided to turn back afterward.”

“Did you see him?” Carl demanded with the same fierceness she felt, and Amanda understood the same kind of fierce hope was running through the teenage boy’s veins too. It was Rick Grimes. The man who had come back from death countless times. My father always comes back, his words rang in her, dissipating the emptiness in her, filling her with more warmness and hope.

But Glenn still shook his head. “It was a valley. He fell into the river. We couldn’t get him.”

“Then he still can be alive—” Carl remarked determinately, then turned to look at her. “We need to go out and look for him.”

“Carl—” Glenn called out softly, holding his shoulder, “Carl—he’s gone.”

The words made her spin to the man, jerking her head furiously. “We don’t know it,” she rejected heatedly before pointing out, “Ron survived the fall.”

They looked at her with widened eyes. “Ron is alive?”

“I’ll explain later—” Amanda brushed it off with a headshake. “My point is, Carl is right. He still can be alive. We can’t write him off dead.” She was not going to do that. Not until she saw it with her own eyes. The others, especially Anne and her people were looking at her like she was crazy, demented in grief, denying the fact she had lost the man she loved, but Amanda didn’t care.

She was not going to believe it until she saw it with her own eyes. Rick couldn’t die on them, couldn’t leave them. He lived for them. He would have managed, would have found a way. She had thought of him dead in the woods, left him but he had found them. They had thought him dead and left him behind even at the start of the outbreak, and he still had found his family. Amanda wasn’t going to throw in the towel on him. If—if he really was gone—

She stopped the thought, not letting it poison her hope. Even if she was a hopeful idiot, she still didn’t care.

Anne shook her head. “This’s crazy—” she said. “He fell over fifty feet.”

“You don’t know, Rick—” Amanda snapped. “He always finds a way.”

“So what?” Anne asked back. “Do you want us to go out and look for him when the herd and those men are all on the loose because he might be alive?” she hissed before she concluded adamantly, “We’re not doing it. You wanted us to show effort, and we did. We followed your crazy plan and it failed. We’re NOT going out again.”

Amanda sent the woman a glower. “I’m not asking you to—” she bit off. The last thing she needed right now was Anne and her people getting in her way.

The search party had to be small so that they could check the grounds quicker before anyone found him. He could be wounded, injured, or out of consciousness, and it had already passed three hours since the attack. The bottom line was that they needed to hurry.

 Ron’s tortured body and face skidded over her mind, but Amanda shut it down quickly too. No. No. No. She was not going to think about that. No.

She started to check her weapons. She needed to hurry. She couldn’t lose any time. “I go alone.” Perhaps she could take Daryl with her, but after the way the tracker had returned to the town before anyone else, Amanda didn’t want to ask. Something was happening over there, perhaps Joan even had talked to him about the baby, but Amanda didn’t have time to find out, didn’t have any time to lose.

She needed to go out now. The safe house, their cabin in the woods. She needed to check it first. It was on the way from Del Arno to Alexandria, and if Rick was still conscious, he would try to get there first for protection and the first-aid kit. They had used almost everything inside the cache after the attack they had suffered from the Wolves on the night they had found Anne and her people, but Rick still might need supplies to tend his wounds. God! When she got her hands on those Wolves, she was going to rip them apart!

“I’m coming with you—” Carl lunged at her in the middle of her frantic check for her weapons and supplies on herself at the same time with Glenn. “Me too.”

Amanda jerked her head. “No. You both stay. The town needs you. We’re gonna have it hard with these walkers. We need to think on something and I’m faster alone.”

Glenn nodded, seeing her point, but Carl still refused, “No. I’m coming. I’m not gonna leave him again!”

“Carl—”

“I’m coming, Amanda—” the way Carl uttered the words made Amanda certain that she could no way stop Carl from looking for Rick now. The teenage boy had suffered this too many times to stay behind. So Amanda nodded, afraid that he would trail after her if she refused, but Beth cried out the next time; “I’m coming too!”

“Beth, no! That’s—”

“I have to, Amanda—” Beth cut her off. “He did it to save me.”

A protest died on her lips after she saw Beth’s expression. This wasn’t on her, never, and she didn’t want Beth to blame herself after all the things she had suffered. Rick wouldn’t have wanted it, either.

“All right—” She roughed out, nodding, and turned to Glenn. “Do you have radios?” she asked, “Ours are broken or burned.”

Glenn’s gaze swept her after that as Amanda reminded what kind of shit she still must be looking. Joan had tended the burns on her arms and hands, but the remnants of the explosion and the fighting were still all over her.

He handed her his backpack and the radio as Amanda nodded to the teenagers, “Let’s go.”

“Are you going out like this?” Anne’s stupefied tone asked, which Amanda ignored.

There was no time to draw a detailed plan or analyze the situation better, no time for proper preparations, no time to be cautious. She had a starting point, and it was all she needed. If anyone—anyone would stand in her way, they were making their last mistake.

# # #

Still on the porch even after Amanda left, Daryl watched Joan from the corner as she scurried in the infirmary with Carol. It wasn’t odd for him, his eyes somehow were prone to find her as they worked together in the infirmary for practice or when he took her out in the woods and they looked for her herbs and roots, it’d become a habit of sorts, but it felt different this time.

Ya became the bitch of ‘tis pussy, baby brother, Merle’s mocking voice snickered in his mind again, but Daryl wouldn’t argue with it right now. No, not after what he’d just done. He should feel guilt for leaving Rick behind and returning to the town, but when he had heard that honking, even Merle’s taunting voice in his mind had silenced. He had had to return. Had to see it. Joan, Carol, the kids, the way they had become in the town. Daryl still couldn’t say what the town meant for him, even though he’d accepted being the recruiter, but they liked it here, so it was the end of the discussion for him.

Rick had said if they returned now, it would have been for themselves because they were afraid, not because of their families and there was a part of Daryl that agreed with him. The other part—the other part had simply wanted to get back and see them.

His eyes drew to the woman inside again on their own, Daryl couldn’t help himself.

He wondered if this was what it meant falling in love, the shit that people went on about all the time, but Rick was still out there. He hadn’t returned. There were no dissolutions in him that Rick didn’t love his family. His love for them knew no boundaries, Daryl had witnessed his protective fury’s aftermath in the woods when they tried to hurt them. Rick also loved Amanda, Daryl knew it. He’d seen it first at the prison that night when Rick had confessed to him she was different.

So why the hell Daryl had returned when Rick was still out?

It was a question Daryl had been asking himself since he saw Amanda, looking like a caged, wounded animal as if she didn’t know what to do with herself going around the town. It felt awkward, seeing her like that, still keeping up, but looking helpless, so Daryl ran his eyes away each time their eyes met. He wondered if she was mad at him for returning, for leaving Rick, but there was no expression over her placid face when Joan had tended her injuries.

So, a part of him felt like shit, confused and shit, but the relief over Joan’s face when she saw Daryl the first time after he’d come back couldn’t let him regret his decision.

God, he was really in deep shit.

When the screen door opened from his behind, the clamor from inside overflew to the porch worse. Daryl heard Anderson’s widower cries louder, screeching long wails. They felt like wordless curses. She had been going on like this since Daryl came to the infirmary. He had seen the boy out of the corner of his eye but kept himself outside.

Carol emerged out from inside a couple of seconds later, a heavy expression over her face and there were still bloodstains on her, on her face, on her hands, and her clothes. She walked toward him at the corner, shaking her head, and leaned against the railings. “Got a cigarette?”

“Wanna smoke in the infirmary?” he asked, but nevertheless fished his rumbled package out of his pocket.

“We can make an exception today—” Carol murmured, taking the one he’d handed to her. She took a big breath and blew it out. “We can make a lot of exceptions today, I guess.”

Daryl narrowed his eyes. “Some of them won’t make it. Most of them won’t make it—” she intoned, lowering her voice. “But Joan still tends them. We need to discuss the practicality of it.”

Daryl’s eyes grew heavier, recalling the prison. “I’m not gonna do anything,” she assured him, reading his look. “But someone has to voice it out. We’re wasting our resources. You know how it’s done in the time of war.”

Daryl knew. The wounded were categorized and classified so they wouldn’t lose time with people who wouldn’t make it when they had so many that needed medicine and medical assistance, but Daryl shook his head. “We don’t have that many wounded to call for drastic measures yet.”

Inhaling another breath, Carol gave him a look, but only said, “Yet.” Daryl stayed silent. Carol took another drag from the cigarette. “I killed the first time today after Terminus. It always comes to this.”

This time Daryl shrugged. Carol gave him a sideways look. “Why did you return, Daryl?” she inquired.

“I’unno—” Daryl muttered, shrugging his shoulders, couldn’t decide if he was lying or not.

Carol didn’t say anything for a while, then they heard the blonde woman’s cries again from inside. Carol shook her head. “Amanda shouldn’t have brought him back—” she commented heavily, giving out another exhale of smoke. “It made Jessie worse.”

Daryl made a noncommittal voice. He didn’t know what to say. His head snapped at the door when he picked up the movement and he saw Joan coming out this time, a very similar expression to Carol over her face, too. Carol’s look turned studious, her eyes squinted, as she watched Joan walking toward them.

Joan eyed the smoke in Carol’s hands wistfully. Daryl offered her one too, but she shook her head as Carol’s gaze on her turned more pointed.

“No. I’m good,” Joan declined with a shake of her head, her dark curls swaying over her shoulders. “I just needed a break.”

“Are you tired?” Carol asked quickly, sounding almost worried.

Daryl looked at them suspiciously. He couldn’t understand why Carol was fretting, but Joan brushed it off with another, “I’m good.”

Before Daryl asked what was going on, suddenly Aaron and Eric showed up below the porch at the driveway. “They’re coming—” his soon-to-be partner cried out, “Officer Shepherd saw them approaching and signaled them to the sewers. They’re going to meet them.”

Daryl jumped down from the railings and started running toward the manhole that they’d gone down before. Outside of the town was getting crowded, so the woman had probably led them there. When they found the manhole, the iron lid was already pushed away. Daryl started climbing down the fixed metal ladder on the wall, but stopped in midday, catching the sounds.

“Hey—Rick—is it you?” he called out, twisting back over his shoulder to look down and catch sight of them in the dark.

“Daryl—” the answer carried over to him, but it was a lighter voice, a higher pitch.

“Glenn—” Daryl asked back. “Is it you?”

“Yeah. We’re coming up.”

Wordlessly, Daryl climbed up to the surface again. A few minutes later, they all pulled them out of the hole, but Daryl still couldn’t see Rick. He wandered his eyes over the people that had made it back, so few, so few of them, picking up Beth’s new boy, Glenn, Heath, and his people, and the new arrivals, and that damn woman and her lieutenants, but no Rick.

Amanda wasn’t there, either. His eyes swept around them, worry skyrocketing in him suddenly. “Where’s Rick?” he roughed out.

His eyes found Glenn’s almond ones, and before he bowed his head, the Korean muttered lowly, “He…fell.”

“What the hell did ya mean, man?” Daryl snapped, refusing to believe it.

No. Rick couldn’t have gone…His brother…his brother wouldn’t do that. He shook his head. “Nah…”

“We were attacked on our way to Del Arno after you left,” Heath continued this time when Glenn didn’t speak. “He fell over the cliff in the fight.”

The guilt came and started eating him alive. His brother had fallen after Daryl left him. The man who had given him a second chance, the man who had given him a family he’d never had. And Daryl had betrayed him.

Carol’s hand covered her mouth, her eyes widened in shock as Joan looked the same. This time Daryl didn’t care. He had betrayed his brother and he was gone. If Daryl had been there, if he hadn’t returned…

Glenn walked up to him. “We didn’t see his body—” he told Daryl in a slow voice. “Amanda, Carl, and Beth left to look for him.”

Daryl’s head whipped at him. “Did ya let ‘em go? Why didn’t ya go with ‘em?” he asked, getting furious. How they could have let her go alone!

“She wanted to go alone, said she would be faster,” Glenn answered. “She didn’t want us to come. But Carl and Beth insisted. She took them with her. She wanted us to protect the town.”

Daryl shook his head, still giving a pissed look at Glenn. There was a point in the words, small groups had a better chance when you looked for someone’s tracks than large ones, but with numbers, you could also cover more ground. Amanda would want them to protect the town, but Daryl didn’t care. He had to go out and look for his brother.

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m goin’—” he said, starting to climb down in the hole again, but a shrieking female voice froze him as it called for Joan.

Looking up, one foot still at the ladder, Daryl saw the shrink of the woman rushing toward them, calling for Joan. “Joan—you need to come!”

Joan stepped up. “What happened?”

Denise stopped in the middle of the crowd, Daryl still half in the manhole, breathing laboriously before she cried out, “It’s Jessie! She smothered Ron!”

# # #

Lifting her head, Amanda checked the sun’s position. It had well past noon now. Her shirt was almost clinging on her back with perspiration, making her feel the stark December chill worse. Her eyes turned down and she peeked at the twirling track of river like a snake on the horizon below them, imaging Rick in the freezing waters. The thought gave her a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold.

She heard snarls a second later, and quickly nudged the teenagers, directing them in a ditch along the ridge they’d climbed on. Thank God she knew the whereabouts of the cabin well. She could have taken the other way, the one that was closer to the backroad that led to Alexandria, but she wanted to see the river from the higher ground, have the situational awareness in a wider perspective as much as possible.

Rick would have preferred this way, too, Amanda knew it, it was longer but less perilous. She knew he was going to the cabin. She knew it. He was alive and was looking for help. The alternative wasn’t still an option for her.

As they hid, a small herd of the dead passed them by. Quickly, she counted half of a dozen of them, still manageable in their numbers. They needed camouflage once more. She hated doing it, especially when her skin was still throbbing and aching, but she wasn’t going to risk Beth and Carl in the woods.

Amanda jerked her head, and quickly they put down the rotters, not making a voice. She took the katana blade from Carl and cut up the freshest corpse. Quickly, still not talking they started smearing the remains of the bodies on themselves.

They stood up after they were done, looking like stuff from nightmares once more, and started making toward the cabin silently. All in frankness, Amanda was more worried about the Wolves than the dead now, but even though she only wanted to find Rick and get back to the town, there was a part of her that also wished she saw the Wolves again. Especially the leader.

She had an unfinished business with the bastard.

As the thoughts of revenge found her, Amanda tried to keep herself stable. She was out here for Rick, not for revenge. That bastard didn’t matter. She shouldn’t let her fury and pain stray her from her path.

Rick.

Only Rick mattered now, only finding him.

Her radio crackled in the silence, and Amanda almost cursed it. “Amanda, do you copy?” came Joan’s agitated voice.

Her brows furrowing, Amanda yanked the radio off from her belt. “What happened?”

“It’s Jessie—” the nurse told her quickly. “S-she killed Ron.”

Amanda stopped.

The world stopped with her a second as Amanda tried to understand the words once more. It wasn’t a bleak emptiness she had suddenly tumbled down when they’d told her Rick fell. No, it was more like a blip, a glitch of error that rendered her speechless. “What?” Amanda managed to utter the next second.

“We were out—” Joan continued. “Daryl was going out to look for you. She must have done it after we left.”

Good luck then, on trying to find anything left to save, the cruel mocking words came at her.

Amanda swallowed. “Where’s she?” she asked Joan, her voice still low, but it wasn’t only because of the threats in the woods now.

“She’s gone to her house. We wanted to look for her, but Denise stopped us. She told us to leave her alone. She told Denise she wanted to finish his suffering.”

Was it? Was it mercy?

Amanda should have done it like Carol had suggested, had done it herself back in the sewers, killed him out of mercy? A lot of people did it since the outbreak, Amanda knew, did it to the people they loved. Like Carl. The mercy of the living.

Her eyes flickered to the teenage boy, but there was no mercy over his face now. He was expressionless, forlorn. God, she needed to find Rick. She didn’t know how they would come back from all of this, but she needed to find him.

“Keep an eye on her—” she told her friend. “We’ll deal with it after we return.”

Because they were. They were coming back, all of them together. The alternative wasn’t still an option. Her resolves getting more determined, Amanda nudged the teenagers ahead.

# # #

The cabin was like how they had left it. Rick had feared that those men would have returned or would have ambushed him on the way, but so far, his eyes that scanned everything around hadn’t picked anything.

As quick as he could manage, Rick slipped inside the cabin. He usually came here for weapons, weapons they had already cleared out the last time they were here, but Rick looked for more today. He brought up the loose wood boards on the floor and revealed their secret cache. They couldn’t have refilled their supplies after using them on Anne’s people, but what was inside was going to have to make it.

He looked for the clothes first, getting rid of his soaked, cold clothes. His torso bare, freezing, Rick inspected his abdomen and his sides and back to see if he had any open wounds, and saw none. It was a good sign Rick took gladly. He changed into a new brown shirt and regular jeans, dropping his duty belt on the ground before spreading his heavy wet suede jacket beside it to dry. His hands clawed the first aid kit the next and took a couple of painkillers and swallowed them. He couldn’t risk taking anything else than basic painkillers in case they made him sloppy and dazzled. There was a part of his mind that was still recovering from his fall much like his body, but Rick needed to be awake.

 His family was waiting for him. He needed to get back. Every second he spent outside, Rick knew their grief was increasing. It pained him imagining their reaction, pained him to do this to them again.

How many times Rick had made this to Carl, how many fucking times his boy had thought his father was gone. The thought made him almost throw his head back and roar with anger. He had promised it wasn’t going to happen again.

Don’t you ever dare to do that to me ever…ever again, Amanda’s heated, fierce words in the woods after Rick had come from death echoed in him, too, the frightened and relieved way she looked as she shoved his shoulder, whispering those fierce words, and Rick did it to her again.

Fury, the savage beast was a living breathing thing inside him, wanting to rip out throats, wanting to rip them into shreds for doing this to them. Rick tried to restrain his blind anger, keep his cool. Anger wouldn’t get him back to his family. He needed to stay cool, levelheaded.

When he finished dressing, Rick started to check his weapons. He should bandage his hurting ribs, but he needed to see his situation first. He must have lost the flare gun when he fell in the water. His Colt Python was still tucked in his holster, the other gun was gone. Rick pitied it. Had he still had it, he would have fired it. It would have drawn the attention of the loose walkers or the Wolves, but Rick didn’t care. If his people saw it, then they might have taken the hint that he was alive.

Were they looking for him? The thought crossed his mind at the speed of light, flashing through his brain cells like lighting. Was Amanda looking for him? The sudden thought worried him and excited him at the same time, worry for imagining her outside now, and excitement over the fact that she would do it for him, wouldn’t believe he was dead and come out to look for him.

His hands trembled as he checked his bullets, counting six still inside. He hadn’t fired his gun today yet, and Rick hoped he wasn’t going to need to, either, for the rest of the day.

He needed protection. He walked out of the cabin and started looking for a walker. He found one strayed one, circling the cabin a few yards away, and quickly put it down. Kneeling beside it on the cold, wet foliage, feeling the chill as badly as in his wet clothes, Rick started cutting it up.

A crunching of twigs from the thick shrubberies at his left side stopped his hand before Rick slit the walker’s belly, and quickly made him spring to his feet. He drew his gun, pointing it ahead, but the next second, a familiar sight emerged from thick bushes, a sight that Rick took like a dream of a dying man on his last breath.

It was Amanda, slowly straightening up from the shrubbery she had just passed through, still pushing the long wild wilds and bushes to make her way. She still hadn’t seen him, her attention wasn’t directed ahead, but backward as she spied looks over her shoulder, but her shoulders tensed before she entirely walked out, quickly gathering she wasn’t alone.

She spun around herself, her hand going to her hip for her gun, but stopped in midair after seeing Rick, staring at her.

The world felt frozen, sucked into a small bubble as they stared at each other unmoving. For a split second, he even thought he was daydreaming, his fall had made him crack up again, and this wasn’t happening. He was seeing ghosts again, but in her torn, filthy clothes, bandaged hands, bedraggled look, she didn’t look like an image of his snapped mind cooked up. No, she looked like shit, and worry rocketed in him… What the hell had happened to her when he was gone?

But Rick couldn’t have asked because the bushes behind her stirred and Rick heard a familiar low whisper from her back, “Amanda…”

She was shoved an inch forward, her attention, her wide green eyes still glued on his as Beth and Carl showed up from the shrubbery behind her.

Rick fell on his knees as Carl lunged forward upon seeing him, followed by Beth right at his heel.

“DAD!” his son’s voice echoed around them as Beth’s mixed with his, “Rick!”

Rick opened his arms to the teenagers that were rushing to him on his knees and enveloped them into a fierce hug.

“I knew you were alive—” Carl muttered to his ear, hugging him as tightly as Rick did.

“I’m so sorry—so sorry, Rick—” Beth chanted.

Rick shook his head. “It’s okay…” he whispered to them, bringing them closer to his chest. “We’re okay.” They were okay. As long as they were together, they were okay.

His eyes darted up and Rick saw Amanda still watching them like a statue of marble, not moving an inch. Slowly, untangling himself from the teenagers, Rick stood up. They looked at each other for a few seconds again, both standing still, unmoving, then Amanda suddenly started to run to him even faster than Carl and Beth and leaped on him.

Her arms coiled around his neck as her feet left the ground. Rick quickly wrapped his around her waist, suspending her in the air in his arms as she hugged him tightly, so tightly his ribs protested with a hot ache, but Rick didn’t care. He didn’t put her down. He hugged her as fiercely as she did, his arm sneaking up toward her neck and vanishing inside her hair at the nape of her neck, her feet still suspended a few inches up from the ground.

Her lips brushed over his neck, kissing him. Rick felt hot wetness on his skin where her head was resting on his shoulder before he realized she was crying. His arms tightened around her more as Rick swayed her in his arms. “Baby, I’m here. I’m alive,” he muttered. “I told you I wasn’t going to die on you, remember?”

She made a rough sound close to a sob. “I thought—I thought...” her words trailing off, she squeezed her arms, kissing his neck again.

They stayed like that in each other’s arms silently for a few seconds more before Rick put her down. Running her eyes away from Beth and Carl, looking shy with her reaction upon seeing him again alive, Amanda stepped out of his arms. Rick gave her the time she needed to pull herself back together, much as Beth and Carl did.

Rick wandered his eyes on them. They were pieces of walkers smeared on them, Rick had smelled it, but Amanda really looked like shit. “What happened to you?” he asked, tilting his head toward her bandaged hands.

She shook her head. “Nothing. Are you okay?”

Carl’s heated voice cut her off, “They threw at her a dynamite, Dad!”

Rick’s eyes widened with shock. Amanda jerked her head again. “I’m okay. They found them inside the crates,” she explained. “They couldn’t get the guns but took them.”

His head felt exploding, his jaw kneading. Those bastards, when Rick got his hands on them… “We got them back,” Amanda quickly added, possibly reading his reaction and asking before she was interrupted. “Are you okay?”

Rick nodded. “Yeah. I think I’ve got a few cracked ribs, but nothing I can’t manage.”

“Let’s check you first—” Amanda took his elbow and started to direct him toward the cabin.

Rick freed himself from her grip. “It’s okay. We need to get back to the town.”

Leading him ahead, Amanda refused. “The town is secure now. We’ve got the radio. We’ll inform them we found you. But we need to check you first—” She halted for a second, fussing with her belt, and took out her handheld radio. She threw it to Carl.

“Call in—” she instructed the teenagers as they stopped following them. “Inform them everything is okay, and we found Rick. They nodded, catching the radio. “Stay guard,” she ordered for the last, pushing Rick gently inside the cabin.

Rick let her. He didn’t want to fight with her for anything anymore. And she was also right. Rick really couldn’t have done anything with his injuries, wanting to go back to the town as soon as possible, to let them know he was okay, but since they were good, he could stop for a bit, gather his strength.

“How did you know I was coming here?” he asked, resting himself back in the corner as Amanda picked up the first-aid kit.

Her eyes finding his, she looked at him, then gave him a shrug. They knew each other so well perhaps Rick didn’t even need to ask. She took the bandages and started taking off his shirt, her eyes trained on his chest. “So you survived a fall over the cliff, too, huh?” she muttered, lifting her head at him.

Rick let out a low chuckle. “Said the girl who survived a dynamite.”

“It was a small one—” she countered, slowly wrapping the bandage over his abdomen.

His face getting serious, his head tipped down, Rick looked at her again. “I’m sorry, Amanda, I’m sorry that I made you go through this again.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” her answer came quickly, then her hands still bandaging him paused. “And—and I’m sorry, too. About-uh-what happened on the platform.”

Rick stilled. Amanda secured the bandage with a pin from the kit and pulled back from him an inch, but only an inch. They were still so close to each other that Rick could see the green of her eyes getting glazed in the gloom of the cabin.

“Y-you were right. I was trying to pick a fight. I don’t even know why,” she confessed.

No. This wasn’t the right time for this talk. They needed to talk, but not right now. “Amanda, no. It’s—” Rick started, then words failing him, he said, “We’ll talk when we get back to the town.”

“No—” she replied, shaking her head. “I need to do this now,” she said. “I’ve postponed it too long, far too long. When Beth told me you fell….” She paused, letting a small sigh. “I-I thought I could’ve never told you anymore.”

His eyes froze on hers. “Tell me what?” he roughed out, a part of him already knowing the answer. His breath started ringing in his eardrums with his heartbeat, his chest felt like stringing. Rick waited.

God, how long he had been waiting for this. “You know what…” she still insisted though. “You must know it.”

“Perhaps I just want to hear it from you.”

“I know,” she confessed, then ran her eyes away before she muttered, her small voice sounded exasperated.  “I’m sorry I make everything this complicated.”

“I don’t mind.” His eyes bore through hers, finding her gaze again. “Just say it, Amanda.”

“I love you—” she breathed out. “I think I love you for a long time, perhaps even since you kissed me at Grady, and I’m sorry it took you falling off over a cliff for me to say it out loud.”

Without a word, Rick held her arm and pulled her against his chest. A shiver passed through his naked torso at the contact as Amanda came willingly and rested her head on his thudding heart.

His hand sneaking up found her chin resting aside at his chest, and lifted her head to look up at him before he whispered to her, “I love you, too, for a long, long time, perhaps even before I kissed you at Grady—” His lips pulled out into a soft smile as Rick gazed at her deeply, “and I’m glad to finally hear it from your lips even if it took me falling over a cliff.”

After she rested her head back on his head with a smile, they stayed like that in each other’s arms, not talking anymore. Rick just enjoyed the calm moment between them, feeling her warmness spreading over him in the cold. He dipped his head and kissed her hair. Amanda snuggled at him closer, holding him carefully not to hurt his bruised ribs. There was still a shitload of stuff they needed to talk over, but Rick didn’t care. They loved each other, and they weren’t afraid to admit it. For now, it was enough. More than enough.

His hand started making soft circles across her back with his fingertips. Had they been back at their home without their injuries, Rick would have carried her to the bed and made love to her slowly like their last time, holding her hand, showing her how much he loved her in a way no word could manage. As cheesy as it sounded, he still felt that was what he should do after the woman he loved confessed she loved him back.

“We should go—” Amanda murmured against his chest but didn’t move, either.

She had a point, the woods were dangerous more than any time to linger around now, but Rick still didn’t want to lose this yet. “In a moment,” he murmured back, his hands still slowly mapping her back.

“That story how Hershel made you catch walkers—” she spoke in a whisper suddenly, craning her head from his chest. “You still haven’t told me about it.”

Rick tipped his head down at her. “No, I haven’t.”

“Uh, m-maybe we go to the lounge room, and you tell it to me? I’ll cook.”

“Amanda Shepherd—” Rick dragged out her name teasingly, leaning in her further, “are you asking me to a date?”

A small smile blossomed over her lips before she hid it, hiding her face on his naked chest gingerly. “Hmm mm.”

Smiling too, Rick started standing up, holding her waist to move her up along with him. Amanda bent down and grabbed his shirt from the floor and passed it to him. Rick raised his arm and gave her a sideways look back over his shoulder as she helped him to put it on.

“What are ya gonna cook?” he asked, starting to button his shirt, but the rest of his words suddenly were cut off with a lone gunshot from outside.

Notes:

Uh-huh--a cliffhanger again, cutting off their moment just after Amanda asked Rick to a DATE!...
Stay tuned ;)

Chapter 54: 'Just survive somehow'

Summary:

When the tragedy strikes them in the middle of the dangers, Rick will need to find a way to make his family survive somehow.

Notes:

All right, let's do this! Fasten your seatbelts, and enjoy :)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

As she gazed at the mossy, mildewed wooden door of the cabin, Beth wondered if they were left behind outside because Amanda wanted a moment of privacy with Rick after their heartfelt reunion.

Beth didn’t mind. She had seen how deeply shaken her sister was as they roamed in the woods, looking for Rick. She had been trying to hide it from her and Carl, of course, tried to keep her cool, trying to be reassuring and encouraging, but the way she’d thrown herself in Rick’s arms had left no questions in Beth’s mind. The moment almost looked like a scene from a romance movie, if one would forget that they lived in a horror one.

There was a part of her that still wanted to knock on the door and get them on the moving, although Rick and Amanda were the last people on the earth to be reminded of the dangers of the world. No. They deserved this breather, deserved to lay off for a little, perhaps even stealing some little kisses as Amanda tended Rick’s injures. God knew Rick looked like he needed it. Both her kisses and her nursing.

Briefly, Beth remembered how they had been after Rick came back from death again after he sacrificed himself for them to escape from the funeral home, the way they had kissed as Beth and Carl slept a few feet away from them under trees. They were as desperate as for each other in that day like today, kissing passionately before Amanda fell on her back and Rick mounted on her…

Her eyes cut over to the cabin as Beth stared, straining her ears. Were they—God! She hoped they weren’t having sex this time while they were waiting outside for them! As much as Beth wanted them to have a little moment, they really didn’t have time for that.

Nevertheless, Beth was glad that they had found Rick. Otherwise—she let the speculative thought dissipate in the dark corners of her mind. She didn’t need to think about that anymore. Rick was alive. They were all alive.

She flickered her eyes at Carl. “Uh—do you think we knock on the door?” she whispered. “We’re sitting ducks here.”

Carl shook his shoulders, a bit reluctant, a bit indifferent, “Yeah. But…” he trailed off.

She let out a sigh. “I just wanna turn back now, I guess.”

Carl lolled his head as if to understand. Beth supposed. He should’ve missed Clarice as much as Beth missed Dylan. Once the thought would’ve confused her, made her feel…not knowing what to feel, but right now she felt those moments belonged to another time, far away from them. Beth turned to her friend. They couldn’t have talked a lot when they had come, bearing the worst news, and then they had left. Beth wondered what happened once again, remembering Denise’s words. She killed Ron…

Beth had no idea what the words meant. Amanda had mentioned that he had survived his fall when they met outside the sewers. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised, these days brought a lot of surprises, another man who had just survived a fall was standing behind the door she was standing at the other side.

Still, Beth didn’t quite understand, even though Denise’s words were clear enough without any misunderstanding to cause. Ron had survived, but Jessie killed him. Why Beth didn’t now. Once she’d tried to ask on the way after Denise’s call, but Amanda had only jerked her head curtly, saying she would explain later.

Amanda didn’t want to talk about it. There was a good reason for it, they had been still trying to find Rick, racing with the clock but since they found him, Beth had started to wonder more.

Why would a mother do that? Did the woman do it because Ron was bit? Beth knew it wasn’t what had happened. Amanda had taught her well how to look at what lay beneath, how to read the scene. The facts didn’t add up. If that was it, Denise wouldn’t have called Amanda like that. Denise’s voice was carrying shock, a desperate urgency while she talked. It was so unfamiliar to hear from the usually collected therapist, and that was a clue in itself. Something was off.

Something bad had happened. Really bad. It made her feel a tingling in her chest, too, not only making her feel curious but make her feel something heavy and sticky like guilt. There was no reason to feel like this. Whatever might have happened, there was a part of her that knew that Ron reaped what he sowed after what he had tried to do in the quarry. It was one of those thoughts that the older Beth wouldn’t have admitted, but she couldn’t…unfeel what she felt.

She let out a low sigh and pointed at the walker Rick had put down ahead of them. “Rick needs this rotter—” she remarked, chasing the questions away from her mind. If they were sitting ducks, they might be as well productive at least. She hated staying idle, doing nothing. They all had jobs, a part to play. Even the other Beth had known it. “Let’s cut it up.”

Taking his sword from the sling that was hanging loosely at his shoulder, Carl unsheathed it with a simple, “Yeah.”

Beth watched him as he stabbed the razor-sharp blade in the belly of the walker before he moved it up. It was the second time in the day they’d done this, something no one would look forward to. As Carl worked on the unanimated corpse, her curiosity won over her reluctance. Amanda and Rick didn’t look like they were coming out anytime soon and Beth also hated the tension in the air.

There was that thing with Carl, too. Beth first had thought it was about Rick, the stress, and the fear of losing his father again like this, but even after finding Rick again, even after their heartfelt reunion, it stayed with Carl. Something was going on with him and Beth had started getting worried for her friend. It reminded her of the way Carl had looked in the woods before they came to Alexandria.

Carl had stopped looking like that for a while, his face was more prone to laughs since he’d started dating Clarice. If nothing else, if Clarice hadn’t proved herself a nice person enough in the end, starting that petition in their favor, Beth still would have felt grateful for that on Carl’s behalf.

But now Carl looked once again with that look, and Beth didn’t like it. “Carl, what happened?” she asked, turning to him. “Are you okay?”

Carl’s hand halted on the hilt of his blade. “What makes you ask it?”

Beth shrugged, just like him, a bit reluctant, a bit indifferent, “Well, you don’t look like…” she trailed off.

“Like what?” Carl challenged.

Beth shook her shoulders again.

Carl returned to his job and cut the walker’s belly. “Nicholas died—” he spoke in a monotonous, his blade going deeper in the rotting flesh, making puss emerge out of it. Beth almost gagged, but she’d also grown accustomed to it. It was such a sad thing.

But Nicholas had died. Beth felt…honestly, she didn’t feel anything. Other than a small weary pang in her chest because she was aware that Amanda had taken the man under her wings after Aiden’s death. She wouldn’t take this well. “Does Amanda know it?” she inquired.

Carl jerked his head in another curt nod. “Yeah.”

Beth wondered how many people they had lost tonight, how many graves they were going to have to dig. She decided to put the Ouroboros mark on their graves too. It was neverending. “What happened?” Beth whispered.

Carl stopped butchering the walker and lifted his head at her. “We went to stop the honking of the trunk that hit the wall outside. Jumped on the roof from the platform. Nicholas tried to get in, breaking the side window, but I couldn’t hold him. He slipped away from my hands, dropped in the middle of the walkers.”

Beth almost covered her mouth with her hand. Carl just stared at her. “Walkers—they started eating alive, so I—I shot him.” Her heath aching, this time Beth wanted to move and hug her friend, but she wasn’t sure how Carl would receive it when he looked like this. “I shot him how I shot Mom.”

Beth felt the ache in her chest worse, like bursting as her heartstrings constringed.

Carl shook his head, a hiss leaving his mouth as he stabbed the blade in the walker beneath them so forcefully, it splashed a sputter of puss and dark rotten blood at his pants. Neither of them spared it a glance. “It’s all his fault!”

Beth suddenly knew what he meant. “Ron?” she asked back. “What happened to him?”

“The Wolves found him after he drove the truck off the cliff—” Carl spat, his face bearing no emotion now, as icy as his voice. “They learned the sewers from him. They sneaked inside through the tunnels.”

The missing pieces of the puzzle started to fill in her mind, Denise’s desperation becoming clearer. Carl was angry with Ron, but Beth wasn’t sure if it was intentional. Those animals must have tortured him for knowledge, and Jessie, Jessie had to kill his son for that? He had died and Jessie had to put him down as Carl had done for his mother?

No. It still didn’t work. It sounded as awful as Carl being forced to put down his mother, but Denise had said Jessie had killed Ron on the radio. Why did Jessie do it? Beth still couldn’t find the answer.

“You think he brought it on himself?” A piercingly low hiss suddenly broke the silence.

They both spun around at the same, Carl pulling the katana blade out of the gutter of the walker as Beth drew her gun and faced the woman she had been thinking about for a while.

Jessie Anderson.

The first thing Beth had noticed was how ghastly she looked, like a wraith that had shrunk, her face colorless, her eyes lifeless. She looked nothing like the woman Beth knew. She looked she was made of paper as she swayed in the wind. A shell. A walking dead.

A walking dead that held a gun in her right hand.

The questions should have run in her mind wildly, what was the woman doing here, how she could have found them in the cabin, why she did it, but not even a single of them touched her aside a brief brush because Beth recognized the gun she was holding.

It was the gun Carl had taken from this very cabin with Clarice, then had lost it after hiding it in the greenhouse. Another mystery unfolded before her eyes although Beth didn’t know the full story. But either way, the gun was found. It was Jessie.

For a second, Beth thought of yelling for Amanda and Rick, but Jessie gave Carl another lifeless look before she asked again, “You think he deserved it?”

Carl didn’t answer. Beth stepped ahead. “Jessie—”

The woman’s hand moved… The gunshot echoed in the air, ricocheting around them in the woods. But missed.

Her hand raising, Beth screamed, “JESSIE!”

But she hesitated. Jessie Anderson wasn’t a walking, talking dead even though she looked like one. She was a living, breathing person, with her memories, with her pain, with her grief. And Beth couldn’t do it. It was different than putting down a walker. Putting down the walkers was mercy, giving them peace and the release of the eternal sleep, but killing a person even when she was as lost and ruined as Jessie Anderson made her hand hesitate.

While the cabin’s door burst open and Amanda and Rick rushed out, a part of her wondered if it was going to be a decision that Beth was going to regret for the rest of her life.

# # #

The whole town had fallen silent after Officer Shepherd’s order to stay quiet, and this close to the town’s majestic wall, Clarice could even hear those continuous snarls and growls of the dead that had circled them outside if she strained her ears. It was as bad as at the quarry, buzzing in your ears through your brain, making them ill at ease. She had been sitting in Carl’s living room for almost an hour now with his baby sister, Mika, that new girl Enid and with the rest of the elderlies, and other kids and the people who were still too afraid to leave the house.

Clarice wouldn’t blame them. They were scattered all over the room, the grown-ups anxiously fidgeting, scared, the teenagers and kids looking around, confused and scared. The same worry and scares were in her too, making her strongly curse herself for letting Carl go with Nicholas, leaving her in the house. Nicholas was dead now, she had heard it after Carl came back and sat down on the porch without a word. Bad news traveled fast.

They had deaths, many casualties, not to mention the walkers outside. Victory. It hadn’t come without a price.

Clarice had tried to talk to him after she found him sitting silently on the porch’s steps. Carl hadn’t even said a word, looking once more like the boy Clarice had hated to see after his father’s breakup with Officer Shepherd. There was the same hurt and self-blame in his eyes, his baby blue eyes glassy, cold, and Clarice really hated to see that look in him. It didn’t suit him, that look. It didn’t suit Carl. It was so jaded, so distant that while Clarice sat beside him on the porch’s steps silently, she felt him far away, apart like planets.

Not knowing what to do, hearing his baby sister’s cries inside, Clarice had padded back inside then, leaving him alone on the steps. He had trusted her with the baby, and Clarice at least wanted to take care of the baby for him. 

When Officer Shepherd had found him, and hugged him, her heart grew a bit lighter even though the woman’s expression was as forlorn as Carl’s, but at least Carl let her hold him in her arms. It was then Clarice had heard the murmuring whisper and realized she wasn’t the only one watching them through the drapes of the living room’s window that looked outside the porch.

When Clarice turned to her head, the new girl, Enid, whispered again, “Just survive somehow…”

Clarice narrowed her eyes, a part of her not quite understanding the words, but another did. Carl had survived when Nicholas hadn’t, and Carl was waiting for his father to return now, just surviving somehow after falling off a cliff. It probably wasn’t a bad advice, but Clarice didn’t like it. She sent a glower at Enid but didn’t comment.

Honestly, the more she knew the girl, the more Clarice didn’t like her. During the whole attack, she looked impassive, not bothered by it. Her own people were still out there with Carl’s father and the rest of them, and she didn’t look like she was bothered by it, either.

After Officer Shepherd left him, Clarice had tried her chances again and went to him, but Carl was still distant like he was in another world. She tried to hold his hand like they had done on the platform waiting for his father to return after Ron drove the truck and they got separated, but this time Carl didn’t squeeze hers. Clarice felt sad, wanting to tell him she knew how that felt, that there was a part of her that still waited for her father to return every day. Hope never faded away, but words got stuck in her throat. Standing up, Clarice left him then on the porch, giving him space, but it didn’t take long for Aaron and Eric to suddenly show up in the driveway, shouting at Carl that they were coming back.

Hope fluttered in her heart with butterflies in her stomach. She smiled at the baby girl in her arms as Carl dashed off toward them. Clarice wanted to follow him but knowing the part she had to play now, she stayed. Carol was still in the infirmary, so she still had to stay with the baby. But she still wished Carl had been here with her so she could hug him.

Everything was going to be good. Well, hundreds of the dead were still circling them outside, but everything was going to be good. The thought then made her think how they were going to get them inside, but Officer Shepherd surely must have thought of something, but after a couple of long minutes, instead of Carl, Beatrice and Glenn came back.

As soon as she saw them, looking like that, Bee giving her that look with teary moist eyes, Clarice knew something bad had happened. She held her tears at bay forcibly as Glenn told them Carl’s father had fallen, trying to save Beth. Beatrice was crying then, still holding her weapon, but still crying, her head leaned on Maria. They told her Carl had left the town to look for his father with Officer Shepherd and Beth.

Maria gathered all of them inside after then, Glenn leaving to find the others, Enid leaving with her people. She didn’t hug anyone from their group, only gave their leader an acknowledging nod. Her lips moved again, and Clarice heard the murmur ‘just survive somehow’ from the steps on the porch as she left.

Just survive somehow, Clarice whispered herself, too, and it sounded like a plea, and it was that moment Clarice realized she had never truly understood Beth before.

There was a part of her that wanted to be with them now, be with Carl, Beth, and Officer Shepherd to look for his father as Clarice felt excluded. They were a family, knitted so tightly together, and apparently, Clarice wasn’t a part of that. It hurt her more than she would have thought possible. She tried to tell herself it was okay, but that pang in her chest was still there.

When Glenn came back, her stomach beat in her throat, but when she saw the man’s face, Beatrice almost prayed again. There was the biggest smile Clarice had ever seen on Glenn’s face. Beatrice sprung up to her feet as the Korean man exclaimed, “They found him!”

Clarice threw herself at Maria who was closer to her as Beatrice leaped on Glenn. The man looked surprised for a second as Beatrice hugged her, but the next second, he hugged her back, his smile enlarging.

All her depressed, bad feelings forgotten, pushing herself off Maria, Clarice bent down and scooped up Judith. “Daddy and Kaaa are coming back, sweetie—” she told the baby laughing, throwing her in the air.

Glenn left, but inside the living room was buzzing with merry voices now so much that Maria had to warn them to stay quiet again. “We’re not still out of the danger,” she chided in seriousness. “Keep quiet.”

Maria and Beatrice left half of an hour after to check on Glenn again at their posts. Clarice weighed the idea if she should go and help Joan in the infirmary or join Beatrice and Maria this time, but she still didn’t leave the house. Carl had told her to stay with Judith, keep her safe. He had trusted his baby sister to her like Clarice was one of his family. The thought made her so happy, she got frustrated with herself how she couldn’t have thought of it before. His baby sister was the most important treasure for Carl in the world how Clarice was to Beatrice.

So she stayed with the baby.

It was a loud, crashing sound that tore off the silent, echoing in the town that exploded her happy bubble after another half of an hour. Clarice jumped to her feet from where she sat on the blanket on the floor with Judith and rushed to the windows.

Angling herself toward the gate at the east side, she saw and heard the clamor better. A crowd was gathering around the platform that was making deep rumbles and grumbles, shaking on its beams. It was going to fall!

With her heart in her throat, Clarice sprinted out of the room, this time leaving Judith. “What happened?” she screamed at Aaron when she saw him running toward the main gate with Carter.

“It’s Carl—” the recruiter yelled back.

Clarice’s feet halted, her heart squeezing… “He’s shot.”

# # #

It couldn’t be happening, Amanda passed in her mind as the moment they threw themselves out of the cabin hearing the gunshot, and saw Jessie. It couldn’t be happening, please, don’t let it happen, she pleaded inside, not knowing even to whom she was praying as she frantically looked if any of the teenagers were hurt.

They seemed okay, unwounded.

Jessie had been in the top ranks of her list, but her marksmanship wasn’t the best as she lacked range practice. The questions were running wild in her mind, how she had found the cabin, what the hell she had been doing here. She cursed herself inwardly. Denise had mentioned they had brought her back to her house. The infirmary was swarming with the injured people and they possibly had wanted her out of there, but Amanda told them to keep an eye on her after what she had done!

What had the woman done? Jessie killed Ron, Denise’s voice rang in her as Amanda stared at the woman, guilt finding her. She looked even worse than the last time Amanda had seen her in the infirmary.

Was it her fault, the question found Amanda: Did she cause this? You shouldn’t have brought him back. Carol’s words rang in her ears.  Would have she stopped it had she been there? Amanda didn’t know, but she wouldn’t have regretted her decision. She had had to find Rick. She couldn’t have stayed, couldn’t have done it. Her eyes darted at the cabin for a split second, her stomach coiling into a knot.

She had been lying in Rick’s arms, just lying there, telling him how much she loved him. She couldn’t have done otherwise, either. She had to tell him. He had to know it. Was it such a crime that she wanted to tell the man he loved how much she loved him after everything had happened to them?

Couldn’t they just have a moment of respite? Lie in each other’s arms in peace? They had been having such a long, hard day since dawn. If Amanda hadn’t told him how much she loved him, she would have lost her mind. But the scene she was seeing now was so bad, Amanda didn’t know who to blame.

Beth’s gun was trained on Jessie, the gun in Jessie’s hand was aiming Carl, and Rick’s revolver, he had drawn as soon as they lunged out was pointed at Jessie’s head, and she knew he was a hair's breadth away from pulling the trigger when there was a gun targeted on his son. His jaw was so clenched, so set, it was hard to remember he was the same man who had just wanted to hold her in his arms for a moment longer a few seconds ago.

Amanda raised her arms. “Everyone, stop!” she cried out, almost hysteric. “Just stop.”

She didn’t even know where that gun had come out, they kept a very strict track of who had a gun, and Jessie had never been on that list. Then the figurative bulb of light suddenly lit up as Amanda remember the missing gun they had never managed to find out.

Was it her who had stolen it from Carl? The questions were rapidly swirling in the maelstrom inside her, but Amanda shoved them away. It didn’t matter now, none of it mattered anymore. They were here now, and Jessie was pointing a gun at Carl.

“Jessie—” Amanda started to speak, but her eyes flicking toward her, Jessie cut her off.

“I want you to know how it feels—” she muttered.

Amanda darted a quick look at Rick who still stood like a block of granite, his storming eyes narrowed, ready, muscles in his forearm so tensed as he aimed Colt Python at the woman with every intention of pulling the trigger.

He sidled closer to Carl’s left side. “Put it down—” he clipped forcefully.

“Jessie—” Amanda told hurriedly after him with a softer voice, “put the gun down,”

The woman shook her head. Rick’s index finger clenched on the trigger. Amanda swept toward Rick and whispered his name in warning before spinning to look at Jessie again as she murmured with tears, “I want you to know it…”

“Jessie, that’s enough!” She raised her voice, barking another order, but hadn’t still drawn her gun. There were too many guns pointing at each other. She didn’t need to add them up. Suddenly, her insides freezing further, rewinding in time, Amanda remembered Lizzie.

The gun hadn’t turned on her yet, but Amanda wished it had. She wished Jessie had been aiming it at her instead of Carl. “Jessie—” she started, making her voice firm and absolute. “This is between us. What happened isn’t your fault. Put the gun down and we talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I killed my son.”

The words pierced her, Carol’s words trying to find her again, but Amanda didn’t let them shake her resolve. “You didn’t—”

“He begged me—” Jessie cut her off again. “He begged me to do it. My son begged me to kill HIM!” she shouted as Amanda glanced at Rick again, then around themselves checking if the dead had started coming because of the clamor they were doing.

They needed to go. They had been already in danger even before Jessie found them, but her strayed gunshot was going to bring every walker toward them in a few seconds, but Jessie looked like she was beyond caring now. There was a demented look in her eyes, clashing everything else with her, lost and delirious.

“You don’t know how it feels losing the person you love the most in life!” the woman shrieked, suddenly twisting toward Rick, “BUT YOU WILL—”

Before she could even complete the act, Rick fired.

The bullet hit her temple from her right side. Jessie swayed, her arms waving as she dropped to the ground, but before she did, another gunshot echoed in the air.

And hit Carl in the eye, missing Rick.

# # #

The woods were silent. Rick heard nothing of the usual sounds of the woods in the distance, no crunches of the wild animals as they ran over the foliage, no swaying branches in the wind, no faint hoots or chirps or beets of the habitat, or snarls or growls of the walkers. Everything, everything around and in him felt like halted as if time was sucked into a split moment frozen as his son stared at him, the stunned expression still over the other side of his face where the bullet hadn’t touched.

The rest of it was a ruin. His beautiful, handsome face looked like a snapshot of nightmares, blood sputtering out of the wound where his right eye had been, painting that side of his face in red.

His son, his boy.

The shock had rendered him speechless much like how it had everyone else. Amanda was staring at him wildly, how Rick was, Beth’s hand covering her mouth. A few feet away from them, the demented woman’s ghostly figure lay over the undergrowth prone, but Rick didn’t even spare a glance at her. His whole attention, his whole awareness, his whole everything was solely on Carl.

“Dad…” he muttered so lowly and started falling.

The frozen moment exploded and before he knew it, Rick was running toward him. Rick caught his boy before he fell to the ground.

“CARL!” Rick shouted as he threw himself down on his knees beside him. His uninjured eye looked at him glazed with pain and shock as Rick cradled his head between his hands on his lap.

Blood, blood was everywhere, leaking out of his son through his fingers, washing over him. Rick was again getting soaked with his boy’s blood. This couldn’t be happening again. Not again. It couldn’t…

“D-dad…” Carl whispered in that broken stuttered mutter, trying to hold his hand.

His own bloodied hand clutched his smaller one, memories starting to bleed in him, his boy sprawled out limp in his arms, soaked with blood as Rick rushed him in the fields toward the farm madly.

He should have killed her. He should have pulled the trigger as soon as he saw Jessie with the gun. He should have… Rick leaped to his feet, gathering Carl into his arms.

A hand stopped him, pulling him back down strongly. “We need to stop bleeding!” Amanda’s voice cried out. She was still clawing at his forearm to pull him back, and Rick realized she had knelt at the opposite side of Carl. Her other hand was holding Carl’s gingerly, too, her bandages getting painted red.

“Beth!” her voice rang clear in the air. “Get the first aid!”

Breaking her stupor, Beth dashed into the cabin on Amanda’s command as Rick lifted his head and looked at her. He still felt lost in a void, numb and empty, but Amanda told him determinately, “He’s gonna be all right.”

There was the same steadfast, persistent glint in her sharp green eyes. His boy had them. His eyes darting down at Carl, Rick nodded. They were going to make it. His wound wasn’t a fatal one. The bullet went through the eye socket and exited, ripping out the whole organ in the meantime, but it was good news. It didn’t stay inside, didn’t stay stuck in his skull or pierced through his brain. But, he was losing blood. They needed to get him back to Alexandria.

“We need to get him back—” Rick flared as Beth ran out of the cabin with the first aid kit they had left in the cabin’s ground before they heard the gunshot. She sprinted toward them and handed the kit to Amanda.

“Call in,” Her second order to Beth came fast as she opened the kit frantically. “Tell Joan what happened. Tell her to get prepared for surgery.”

Rick took a massive pad from the kit and put it on the wound while Amanda rummaged through the insides to find plasters. Finding it, she quickly secured it over the bleeding wound, flicking her eyes up at him. “We gotta hurry. Rotters may come in any minute.”

Just as the moment she mentioned it, the walkers started to come out of the tree lines. Amanda swore, getting to her feet, drew her gun, and cleared their way, shooting the first two approaching walkers, not caring about the noises anymore.

Rick straightened up, throwing Carl over his shoulders. His legs were dangling over at his one side, his arms over the other. It was easier to carry him this way as Carl had put on weight since he had been shot close to the farm.

“Can you carry him?” Amanda twisted toward him, but still aiming the third one.

Rick nodded briskly. He didn’t care if he was going to break every rib in his body. If he had to, he was going to do it. The alternative wasn’t even an option.

“Beth!” Amanda shouted. “Stay with Rick, protect his back. Whatever comes up in your way, get it down,” she ordered as she took the lead. The order was clear as if the teenage girl didn’t have any alternative.

Beth nodded with the same resolute and they started running to the sewer exit. Carl passed out on his shoulders, stopping his whimpering. Blocking pain, Rick sped up. Their running pace made too much noise in the dry and silent woods after the gunshots, the loose walkers soon started to trail after them, lumbering from every direction with every direction.

Yet they still didn’t stop. Amanda was like a Valkyrie, an angel of death ahead of them as she swept the katana sword in a deadly macabre, clearing out the way for them. She was unstoppable as they ran downhill as fast as they could manage, running away from the dead one more time. Their only imperative was to get back Carl to the town, to get him to Joan, nothing would stand in their way.

Or so Rick told himself.

Otherwise—

He stopped the thought.

His son was going to be okay. They all were going to be okay. Everything was going to be fine. They had so much to live for, all of them, together. It couldn’t end like this. His son’s life couldn’t end like this.

“Carl—” Rick whispered as he ran, tightening his grip on Carl’s legs and arms. “Fight, son, fight…”

Everything in him was distorted, for a second or so Rick couldn’t even be sure if he was running in Greene farm’s fields or the woods, his past and present interweaving, making it harder to breathe. Hot tears ran off from his eyes, he could feel them rolling down with dirt and blood over his face and then dripping on the side of Carl’s ruined, bloody face.

His ribs were bursting with pain, but Rick still didn’t care, didn’t stop, but only ran faster. He lost track of the time, his whole existence becoming one for only to keep going, for only taking another step ahead, until he saw the sewers laying ahead of them.

Then the world froze around him and in him again.

The sewer’s exit was blocked by dozens and dozens of the walkers, overrun. Rick wandered his eyes around, his sight darting between Carl, Amanda, and Beth. Amanda was like a statue that was covered with blood and grime from head to toe, but her grip on the sword hardened before she handed the radio back to Beth. There was that determined glint in her eyes again that spoke volumes to him.

“Beth, get behind me—” she spoke firmly, still gazing ahead at the dead, squaring her shoulders further, not looking at him when she continued, “Rick, whatever happens, don’t stop. Just run.”

No… No, she couldn’t. She couldn’t do the suicide run to cut their way in, to give them a chance. “No—I do it—” Rick replied, turning to her, finding her eyes. “Take him—” he told her, “I’ll go ahead.”

Amanda shook her head. “I can’t run carrying him, Rick. It’s gotta be you.”

It was such a logical point that Rick couldn’t find a reply for a split second. Five-five inch and one-hundred thirty-six pounds, Carl was even taller and heavier than Amanda. Amanda was agile and sleek in a fight, but she wasn’t that strong. His heart was thudding madly in his chest, but Rick wasn’t sure it was because of his hard sprint or the hard situation they were facing.

“Rick—” Amanda whispered to him, getting closer, this time looking at him in the eye, “It’s—it’s okay. I can do—”

NO!” he shouted, cutting her off, his insides storming.

It wasn’t happening! He wasn’t going to sacrifice the woman he loved to save his child. H-he could do anything for Carl, but he couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t. He had to save them. He had to find a way.

Think! He shouted at himself. There had to be a way. There had to be. Life couldn’t be that cruel, couldn’t ask Rick to do this to save his son. His insides were in a tempest, Rick wanted to fight, wanted to kill every walker and every sonofabitch he had ever met, the savage beast inside him was wanting to kill as Rick had done in the prison’s corridors after Lori’s death. Suppressing the memory, trying to restrain the beast in him, Rick tried to stay calm.

His family needed him to stay cool, levelheaded. Spiraling down in madness as Jessie had done wouldn’t help them now.

Remembering the woman raised the anger in him again, but Rick shoved it down. He shouldn’t have waited. He just should have killed her the moment he saw her pointing a gun at Carl. His eyes flickered down, looking at his son’s bloodied face, so pale, so white as he washed over Rick with his blood.

No!

No, there had to be a way to get into the town. They were not quitters, they didn’t quit. “There gotta be a way—” he murmured. The whole Alexandria was circled. Either from the sewers’ exit or the main entrance, they had to cut their way in. There was no other option, but if they did what the Wolves had done—

His breath caught for a split second as the idea hit him.

Rick turned to the east and started running again. “Where are you going?” Amanda shouted behind him but followed him with Beth.

“To the barricade!” Rick shouted back. “We’re gonna take Beatrice’s car!” This wasn’t how Rick had planned to use the getaway car on the intersection barricade, but it had to do it. It had to!

“It can’t move without the key!” Amanda replied out of breath, catching up with him. “How are we gonna drive it?”

Instead of directly answering her, Rick twisted toward Beth, clutching Carl firmer in his arms as his feet stumbled on the uneven terrain. “Beth, call in,” he ordered to the girl, looking back over his shoulder. “We’re gonna pass over the third platform soon. Tell them to tie the smart key in a balloon and leave it in the sky.”

The rest of the balloons that they had used to mark their spots dealing with the herd were still in the town. They needed the sports car’s smart key and Rick couldn’t find anything else to get it from the town. The third platform was the nearest one to the woods, so when they saw the balloon, they were going to hit it.

“It’s insane—” Amanda mouthed out, running.

No, it was necessary, Rick passed his mind. Because he was not going to let her sacrifice herself. Rick was going to save them all.

“Glenn!” Beth cried over the radio behind them, “Don’t ask anything, but just do what I tell you!” she quickly started and told her brother-in-law Rick’s instructions. She called in again before they approached the third platform, Amanda still clearing out the way for them in her deadly dance, Rick running with Carl. It was a division of labor Rick would never, ever forget.

“Glenn! We’re coming! Let it up!” Beth yelled as they halted, his eyes catching the silhouette of Alexandria’s majestic wall and the platform on the horizon.

Frantically, they started to scan the sky to look for the balloon. Rick couldn’t take his gun as he was still carrying Carl, so it left Amanda to take the shot.

“Amanda—there!” Beth cried, pointing to the red dot in the sky that was hurling toward them.

“I got it!” Stabbing the katana blade in the ground between her feet, she quickly drew her gun.

As the balloon flew in the air, swaying with the wind, Amanda tried to get into the best position, aiming her Glock. They didn’t have a rifle and without an adjustable scope, it was near impossible to hit a moving target in this distance, but Rick trusted her.

They needed that damn key, so she wasn’t going to miss it.

From her profile, Rick could see the amount of concentration she excelled, holding herself so still unmoving despite the wind, her eyes narrowed over the front sight hawkish as she waited for the best moment before she took the shot. They didn’t have much time, though, the longer they waited, the further the balloon was moving away from them, making it impossible to find the key after it dropped.

But still, Rick waited, not disturbing her concentration. She was going to do it. Rick knew. She wasn’t going to miss.

Carl let out a whimper in his arms and Amanda pulled the trigger.

The balloon exploded in the sky above them. Amanda sprinted, grabbing the blade out of the dirt, barking at them, “Stay here! I find it!”

She was back as fast as she was gone, waving her arm in the air at him and Rick spied the dark metal inside her palm. “Got it!”

They started running to the west, toward the barricade again. When they arrived, Rick saw the barricade run down at the opposite side of Beatrice's car with another truck that had Del Arno script over the side. It must have been how they ran over their barricade because the cars looked like now real-size bumper cars, hurled and crashed around each other as they dodged and slid on the road. The intersection was still partly closed, the big food truck had cut its way in, sliding them aside, but Rick suspected it still did its job because it had stopped the second truck. Without it, they would have had more than one truck hitting the wall.

Amanda pressed the button on the smart key and the dark grey Lamborghini flickered up its headlights as its doors started to rise upward in the car’s distinct fashion.

No discussion was made about who was going to take the driver's seat. They rushed to it, Rick diving toward the backseat, settling Carl over his lap on the crumpled small area of the sports car's backseat as Amanda slid in the driver’s seat, Beth taking the seat beside her. Had been it anyone else, Rick would have never let them drive when his son’s life depended on it, but it wasn’t anyone; it was his Amanda.

“Go! Go! Go!” Rick shouted at the same time the beast of the car revived its motor with a roaring sound when she pressed the start button on the dashboard.

Throttling the gas pedal, Amanda drove backward, taking the car out of the park at the highest speed. She spun the wheel, half twisting herself back, throwing her arm over the passenger seat to scan the rear windshield, then clutching the handbrake, she yanked it up to spin the car in a U-turn that felt more like a V.

The momentum of the turn at the highest speed threw them inside the car, Rick holding Carl as Amanda managed to take the control of the spinning car and directed it back toward Alexandria. They always left the getaway cars facing the escape route, never thinking that they would need them to get back. Amanda sped up even further after then, the sports car flying over the broken untended asphalt as Carl’s blood started coloring the luxurious interiors, red on black leather.

“Where I’m going?” Amanda shouted as Rick realized he hadn’t told her yet his plan.

There was no time for any discussion, and knowing that she was only waiting for clear directions now, Rick simply ordered, “Go to the gate.” He extended his hand, his blood-soaked hand between seats. “Beth, gimme the radio.”

Without a word, Beth quickly obliged, passing the handheld radio to him. “Glenn—” Rick called in a second later. “Get to the main gate—” he ordered them too. “Go up to the platform and wait for us.”

“The platform isn’t stable, Rick—” Amanda warned as Glenn’s reply came back from the radio.

“The gate is gone. The walkers’ numbers have increased since Amanda left. They entirely circled us. They’re too damn many to cut through.”

“We’ll manage—” Rick talked fast, his eyes cutting down over to Carl as he gave another whimper. They didn’t have any other option. He didn’t even have a direct, detailed plan, he was just improvising, trying to save his son. And his time was running out. They needed to get in now.

He darted a sideways look at Amanda, leaning forward, bringing down the radio. “Amanda, ETA?”

“Two minutes.”

Rick raised the radio again. “Glenn, two minutes. Get up to the platform!”

“We’ll be there—” was the only answer before they severed the connection.

When Alexandria start to loom on the windshield, Amanda called out to him, her eyes still trained ahead, but still not slowing down, “Rick?”

It was worse than Glenn had said; the town wasn’t only circled by the dead, but it was swallowed around. A hitched breath escaped from Beth upon seeing it, a sea of walkers between them and the safety of the walls. In the middle of the carnage, toward the main gate, the big truck that had hit the platform stood like a small island surrounded by the walkers.

The island that they needed to dock on.

“Amanda, faster! Faster!” Rick yelled. “Cut ‘em though then hit the truck—”

She jerked her head although she did what he asked, throttling up, her forearms under the bandages tensing, leaning backward as the movement of the sports car lunged them forward. They both knew the platform wouldn’t take the impact, but there was no other option.

The beasty car must have been making so much noise now even though they couldn’t hear it inside the sound-proof interiors, but they could see the walkers’ attention starting to divert toward them. Rick had never experienced this much speed in a vehicle before, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught the car was passing over the one-eighty-six mark on the dashboard as Amanda sped up even more.

She was still keeping herself impassive, her head slightly tilted down, solely focusing on the road and walkers as she drove. Beth had clutched the side handle up on the roof as Amanda cut through uneven terrain off of the asphalt, the roads full of bumps and holes in neglect without maintenance.

She still didn’t slow down.

The car flew like a blur…the dead looming over the windshield…

“Dad…” Carl’s mutter echoed so weakly, Rick felt his eyes prickled. He couldn’t cry. Not yet. He had to get him back.

Rick bowed his head, holding his bloodied hand with his one. “Hang on, son…” Rick muttered, leaning over him. “Hang on, we’re going back home….”

“Ready for the impact!” Amanda shouted, yanking the safety belt from her side and clinching it as Beth followed her suit to protect themselves from the impact. Rick brought up the radio, tightening his grip on Carl, his hand still holding his. “Glenn!”

“We see you—” the younger man yelled over quickly. “We see you!”

“GET READY!” Amanda shouted for the last time, flattening the gas pedal before the sports car dived in the walkers' ranks.

Without its strong engines, beasty motor, and high resistance of the crash, no way in the earth they would have survived the impact as the Lamborghini ran through the walking corpses, killing itself in the process, but Amanda just pushed it more to reach the truck.

Rick was holding Carl now tightly as they violently shook and rocked inside the car with each walker they killed, Rick even hit his head at the roof a couple of times, until they finally saw the food truck over the windshield.

“GET READY!” Rick shouted this time, raising his hand to slide the roof window’s shutters and pushing the little button beside to open the hatch above them. Their way out. Just like how Rick had gotten out of the tank in Atlanta on the day when his new life had started.

The chilly December air whipped around them, biting at his bloodied cheek, Amanda hit the truck from the left side.

As Rick flew in the cramped interiors, his body leaning over Carl to protect him from the crash, the airbags around them popped out, cushioning them against the impact. Rick fished out his pocket knife with one hand and stabbed it at the backseat as Amanda did the same at the front seats and unclenched the safety belt. She twisted up from her seat toward the roof, grabbing the katana blade before going out when the walkers started to hit themselves against the car madly.

In less than a few minutes the car was going to overrun. Although they couldn’t break the car’s strong unbreakable glasses, they were going to swarm it, and the low height of the sports car didn’t give them any other chance. They needed to get on the truck’s roof.

“Dad…” Carl’s voice muttered again as Amanda climbed out on the roof sleekly in a heartbeat, her hand still holding the sword, and pulled Beth up. “Dad…”

 “We came back, son…” Rick whispered back, looking down and pushing a brief hand over his hair that was caked with his own blood. “We’re at home.”

“Beth, go climb to the truck!” Rick heard Amanda yelling above at the same time gunshots started ringing outside. “Glenn, clear her way out!” she shouted, “Riiiick!”

Rick craned his neck and saw her on her knees on the roof, bending over the window. “Rick, get him up!”

Throwing Carl on his shoulders again, securing him in a hold, Rick stood up still half bent down, and let Amanda pull him out. Amanda grabbed his arms as Rick let go of his hold, quickly pulling himself up on the roof, too. His body must have cried out in pain, but Rick still didn’t feel anything as he knelt on his knees in the crowded small area while the walkers tried to reach them. Their excited snarls and growls had reached a crescendo seeing them, madly trying to get them down.

Glenn, Daryl, and Sasha were shooting at the walkers from above the platform, trying to clear the car’s around as Amanda grabbed the katana blade again and slid around him and Carl swiftly on the car’s top to get behind them.

“Amanda!” Rick croaked out, getting to his feet with Carl still draped across his shoulders, looking back at her over his shoulder.

She had already unsheathed the weapon and was rolling off the head of the walker that was trying to grab Rick’s ankle before turning to the other side to do the same thing to another one. “I’m right behind you!”

And she was, she was just right behind him, protecting his ass and his son while Rick scrambled up to the top of the truck’s roof.

When he reached the top, crawling himself over the metal surface of the truck’s roof on his stomach, the platform above them groaned gravely and shook violently when someone jumped from the heights on the truck. Craning his head a little, Rick saw it was Daryl. In a heartbeat, Daryl took Carl off him without any word and threw him across his shoulders just like how Rick had done and started climbing up the ladder.

The platform shook worse as they followed him, Amanda and Beth at his heels. Below them, the walkers’ attack was getting heavier, passing the tipping point, but Rick almost didn’t care. They were here now. They were back.

He had brought Carl back.

All of them. He had brought all of them back.

But they weren’t safe yet.

They threw themselves in the middle of a crowd that circled the platform. Rick even picked up the younger Reese staring at them wildly, stunned, her eyes moist, tears running freely over her cheeks, but her gaze wasn’t on them but was on Carl as Daryl rushed him down toward the infirmary.

Amanda and Glenn grabbed him and took him under their shoulders, supporting his weight. “We gotta go,” she said, pulling him up, but she wasn’t screaming anymore. “It’s not gonna hold up.”

“I know—” Rick only said, knowing that it was true.

The platform was coming down. The wall was coming down, because of what they had done, but there was no regret in him. To save his son’s life, Rick could do ten folds worse.

With a loud deep grumble of wood and screeching metal, the platform started falling upon the main entrance, opening up the way for the army of the dead just as they touched down on the ground.

Without a word, they ran to the infirmary, the dead right on their heels.

Notes:

Okay! First things first, I always knew I wanted to make Carl get shot in the eye *outside* in Alexandria at the end so that Rick would desperately search to find a way to get back Carl to the town...hence getting down the wall... There was this ongoing plotline for Rick for the townspeople to be wary of him, of the things he could do to protect his family. At the end of the day, when he had to, Rick didn't hesitate to ruin the gate to get back Carl to Joan. This was always my endgame for the finale, as it will raise other questions in the town too.
This was another reason, besides the pacing and timeline of the plot, I couldn't have made Amanda and Rick's reunion take longer than how it ended up, although I really wanted to, but if I did it, it would've taken the gravity of the situation, the desperate measures that Rick is willing to take to save his son. I was saving dear Lambo for this, too, hehe. I debated long in my mind who should drive it, and in the end, Amanda won :)

I'm gonna admit that I didn't plan Jessie turning like this, but that part of the story wrote itself out when I decided that the Wolves needed to have intel to get inside the town, and that person, unfortunately, had to be Ron, facing the consequences of his actions. From there, everything went upside down for Jessie, and she couldn't face what had happened, but blamed Amanda instead for disturbing her bubble.

As you might have noticed, there's some tension rising between Clarice and Carl...and a new girl has also entered into the picture. I think Enid's 'Just Survive Somehow' was the perfect idea for this chapter, hence the chapter's title, so I also wanted to start building her up a little as Enid is gonna have a large role in the next book. I wanted to close Beth's arc in this book like this, her hand hesitating to make the shot for a living person because deep down, she still has managed to keep herself as Hershel Greene's daughter.

So, we have the pinnacle of the finale with the next chapter, Carl is shot, the army of the dead coming inside through the broken wall, and Rick losing it and going berserk again, hehe, because that scene was one of my favorite moments in the show!

Hope you enjoyed my take on the show's 'No Way Out' arc as I swept things upside down. Should we call it 'No Way In?' Hehe. Like always don't forget to tell me what you think! I so much appreciate hearing your thoughts. :)

Chapter 55: 'Whatever the cost may be'

Summary:

When the army of the dead invades Alexandria, Rick and Amanda will need to fight both for Carl and the town that they have started to think of as home. Will help arrive in time?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When they found the woman in the infirmary, she was still holding the pillow cradled at her chest, sitting on the floor, her back against the bed where her son lay dead.

“We try to take it from her,” Denise whispered as Daryl looked at the woman, “But she didn’t let it go. I’ll try to talk to her,” the shrink went on silently, her eyes darting around the crowded infirmary, “But we need to get her out of here.”

“Yeah—” Carol replied in the same low they all had and shot at him a glance. “We need to deal with the boy.”

Daryl wanted to kick something. He needed to get out and find Amanda and the kids. They were out looking for Rick, his brother Daryl had left behind. Guilt was as heavy as mountains in him, but they still needed him here too. To deal with this.

Later. After he dealt with this, he was going out the first thing. Perhaps he could Glenn too, but leaving him behind in charge sounded a better idea too. The blond shrink slowly padded toward the woman on the ground and started to talk to her.

A few minutes later, her hand slowly reached toward her lap and took the pillow. Jessie Anderson let her. Her arm circling the woman’s small waist, the shrink pulled her up to her feet and started dragging her outside the infirmary. The woman looked like a puppet that the others made her move, pulling her strings as Denise moved her out.

Daryl’s eyes drew to the bed, where the boy’s listless form lay lifeless. The pity might have found him another time, but there was so much guilt in him right now to feel it. Steeling himself, Daryl walked over to the bed purposely, taking out his knife.

He needed to get on with this shit and get out. Look for Rick.

He needed to find him. If he was gone, that was on him. His eye cut over to Joan who stood beside the bed’s foot, his feelings causing turmoil inside him even worse than they had found Merle.

When they had found Merle, and he had chosen to go with him, leaving the family he’d found for the blood, there was again guilt in him, guilt for letting them know. They had trusted him enough to be more than to be just some redneck asshole that was drifting around with his even bigger asshole brother, making him feel like for the first time in his life that he was part of something.

Turning to his group after he had saved that Latino family on the bridge was easy, as easy as breathing, understanding his place wasn’t with Merle anymore. Accepting it wasn’t easy, but deep now, Daryl had already known it. That he would choose the family he was adopted in over Merle, over his brother by blood at any time. There was no regret in him, no guilt for his decision.

When Merle died, guilt had found him for a while, but Daryl let it go along with his anger in the end. Sometimes he even tried to forgive his brother.

It felt different now. Daryl felt shame, so much shame that he couldn’t even look at Joan without thinking about it. That he had chosen her over everything else, over anyone else. Even over Rick.

He’d returned because he couldn’t bear the thought of her alone in the town without him when things were like this, didn’t even care Rick was staying. He’d left his brother, the man who had believed in him for the first time in his life, and Daryl abandoned him.

And Rick paid for it, paid for his failure. If Daryl had been there—if he—

He silenced the words, almost jerking his head furiously. What the hell Daryl was doing here now? He had to be out, look for his brother like Carl and Amanda doing. If he let anything happen to them… If they got hurt looking for him while Daryl was here

He cut off that thought, his fury making him more careless. Without looking at the boy, Daryl stabbed him at the back of his neck. He was too angry, too damn angry at himself to feel merciful. Swiping his blade on his pants to clean off the blood, Daryl turned on his heels and started walking out.

His brother was waiting for him. He couldn’t dawdle around anymore. “Daryl—” Joan’s voice stopped him as Daryl sprinted off from the porch’s steps. Twisting his torso, Daryl gave her a look.

“A-are you going out?” she asked in a low voice at the threshold, sounding distraught, looking worried.

The damn woman still didn’t want him to go! Even now, even now she wanted him to stay with her, leave his brother! He wanted to lash out at her…wanted to yell at her to stop looking at him like this, stop invading his mind, his thoughts, his body, his everything all the damn time, stop trying to work her damn way in him! He wasn’t his bitch at her beck and call!

“Stop questionin’ mine every damn step, woman!” the words left him before he knew it. “I ain’t your bitch!”

She flinched back as if Daryl had slapped her, her eyes growing colder. “Sorry about worrying about you.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me—” he snapped back even though he knew he should’ve stayed silent, but he couldn’t stop the words slurring out of his mouth. “Don’t act like some dumb college bitch that tied to my hip ‘cause we’re fuckin’!”

Her dark olive eyes narrowed into a slit as she hissed, “Glad to hear how you think of me, Daryl. Go whatever hell you want to go!” She swept around. “I don’t have time for your insults.” With that, she marched inside the infirmary.

Still staring at her retreating back, for a second or so, Daryl wanted to follow her inside, and apologize because he was acting like a redneck asshole. But that was what he was, too. A redneck asshole. Turning back, Daryl ran off the steps and started looking for Glenn.

He looked for the other man around their house, rushing off the steps with a big smile on his face, the biggest smile on his face Daryl had seen since they had lost Maggie. There was also the older Reese sister with him and their nanny, and seeing the Reese girl made him feel like even a bigger asshole because even Beatrice wasn’t looking like some dumb rich college girl anymore even when she stood with her nanny.

But they were all smiling.

“Beth called in!” the Reese girl breezed. “They found him!”

“They found Rick, man—” Glenn repeated as Daryl stood motionless. His brother was alive. They had found him. With relief and happiness, guilt still came to him. They had found him. Daryl had done no shit. “He was in the cabin,” Glenn continued. “They’re coming back.”

Daryl still wanted to go out and bring them back. They might still need help. “I go get ‘em—” he mumbled, turning toward the manhole that they all used to go in the tunnels, but once again he stopped seeing Carol and Denise running toward them.

“Glenn!” Carol spoke quickly, breathing out laboriously when they arrived and explained. “Jessie—she isn’t in the house.”

Daryl wanted to shoot out a curse. “Joan wanted to prepare some herb tea to soothe her down. We gave her too many tranquilizers. I went back to the infirmary to look for her herbs, but when I came back, she wasn’t in the house.

Glenn nodded quickly. “A’right. Let’s look for her but try to stay under the radar.” They had tried to keep it quiet about what Jessie had done in the town so far aside from the people in the infirmary, but Daryl knew it was futile. Soon the whole town was going to learn what had happened.

Daryl still didn’t give a damn. “Daryl, you have to look for her trail,” Carol’s voice shot behind his back as soon as Daryl took a step away. “We need to find her.”

For a second, Daryl really didn’t care. He shouldn’t be tracking a demented woman, instead looked after his brother, made sure he returned safely, but the pointed look Carol gave him was also telling. The woman had killed her son. Perhaps it was a mercy killing, but she was unhinged. There were too many emotions that ran wildly today. Better to put her on somewhere in which she would stay under close supervision. It was even dumb that the shrink had left her alone in the house.

They all padded toward her house under the slowly darkening sky in the attacked town. Losing its laughable picturesque quaint and idleness, the town looked more adequate to the rest of the world now, the air tense and spooky, scented with the smell of the dead, gasoline and smoke, and filled with the sounds of rousing growls and snarls.

Kneeling in front of the dug garden in the front of her house, it didn’t take long for him to find small half prints in the earth under the other’s careful eyes. He followed them quickly over the backyard. Her steps were scurrying; small, low in the muddy earth following each other closer as if her feet barely were touching on the ground. She was running. The tracks trailed against the house’s side, taking cover of the roof’s shadows. She was also hiding.

Reading her tracks was harder to do on the cobblestones paved side streets or on the faded asphalt of the road, but Daryl did it until he finally figured out that the woman had gone where Daryl had wanted to before he started looking for her.

The manhole!

From the side road where he was crouched, Daryl quickly leaped up to his feet. “Damn! She’s gone to the sewers!”

All at once, they started running toward the sewers. “Should we warn Rick and Amanda?” Glenn asked as Daryl pushed the manhole’s iron lid hurriedly.

Carol shook her head. “No. Don’t get them spooked before we learn what’s happening.”

Agreeing, they went down. The dark tunnels were how Daryl remember; filthy and smelling awful. No one made a sound though as they sprinted toward the exit they had made, not caring how much noise they made for a chance. What the hell the woman was thinking was a question that haunted him as much as the others as they ran blindly, even though Daryl couldn’t see Glenn and Carol’s expression in the gloom, he was sure they were there.

This fucking day just couldn’t finish. As if on a cue, Glenn’s radio cracked just at that moment. “Glenn!” the girl’s voice shot over, echoing in the tunnels around them. They all froze, hearing the terrified tone in it.

“Glenn!” she shouted from the other side over the static again, the simple word having a madding frantic urgency.

“Beth! What happened?” Glenn asked without a beat.

“It’s Carl!” the frantic voice rattled, and this time Daryl was certain there were tears in the words. His heart stopped. “Jessie! Jessie shot him!”

For a second or so, Daryl even forgot how to breathe. Carl…Carl was shot.

Carol lunged at Glenn, yanking the radio from him. “Beth! Where are you?”

“We’re still in the cabin. We’ll try to stop bleeding first. Amanda wants Joan to prep the infirmary.”

Carol nodded. “Understood,” she said quickly before she gave the girl a firm order. “Get to the sewers now.”

 Madly, they all ran back to the surface again and found Joan. Her face was a mask of cold anger when she saw her, but as soon as she saw their faces, she understood something was still not right. “What happened?” she demanded, approaching them closer.

“It’s Carl—” Carol started, quickly starting to roam around the infirmary like a tornado. “We need to prep for the surgery—” Joan’s eyes cut over to him for a split second, looking confused then snapped away.

“What happened?” she repeated forcibly through clenched lips.

“Jessie—” Carol answered with the same force. “She shot him.”

The guilt and blame were as stark as in him, as Joan’s eyes widened. No one talked after then until the radio cracked again and they heard Beth’s agitated voice again.

“Glenn!” the girl cried out from the other side. “Don’t ask any questions. Find a balloon, Beatrice’s car’s key, and get up to the third platform!”

It was the most wacko instruction Daryl had ever heard but, nevertheless, they all listened to it.

When they saw a dark grey lighting on the horizon and heard in the distance the roaring motor sounds over the chants of the snarls and growls of the walkers outside, Daryl understood what was happening. “Glenn!” This time Rick’s voice cracked from the radio. “Get to the main gate. Go up to the platform and wait for us.”

They exchanged a brief conversation, Glenn explaining to Rick about the gate’s situation and how they were blockaded by an army of the dead, but to Daryl it was pointless. Rick had already made up his mind. He was going to cut through his way.

On the way, they took up Sasha too and got up the main platform as Rick instructed.

The buzz was ringing with him, making them as roused as the walkers down there. The platform groaned and cracked with the weight, shaking on its legs. Daryl was ready to fight. Ready for his brother to come back.

“The platform ain’t gonna hold up—” Sasha muttered, her eyes checking it down.

“Gonna hold up as long as it needs to—” Glenn said back, even though he’d made the same comment to Rick earlier.

Daryl didn’t talk. He didn’t need to.

In a few minutes, the motor sound thundered closer, and that dark grey light on the horizon became larger and took a shape of a beast of a car. Daryl briefly wondered how fast the car was going now because it seemed like it was flying over the road instead of being driven.

Above from the heights, Daryl could see the determination on Amanda’s face, Beth taking her head between her hands, hiding it on her lap before she rammed the truck against the side of the truck.

For a split second before the crash, Daryl felt the worst scare in his life, scared that they weren’t going to make it, at least Amanda was going to get injured severely in the driver seat. Ramming into a firm surface with a speed over two hundred mph was madness, desperate, mad, and necessary, but Lamborghini truly proved itself a beast. The magnificent car’s bumpers held against the impact, Daryl could observe the way they swayed inside the car, the safety belts on before the airbags burst out, protecting them from the aftershock.

The next moment, they exploded, and Daryl saw Amanda with her knife before she sheathed it again. No one lost any second after that.

Gunshots breezed in the air, raining hell down upon the walkers as they started coming out of the roof window. Daryl jumped down on the truck’s roof. As soon as Rick threw himself on the truck, crawling over, Daryl picked the boy from him.

The sight of Carl and Rick roared his whole existence again, seeing them like that just because Daryl hadn’t been there with them. Silencing it, Daryl secured Carl over his shoulders and started climbing up to the platform as fast as he could.

He needed to do this now. At least he needed to do this. Behind him, the platform was falling, Daryl knew it. He heard it. But as he ran to the infirmary, Daryl didn’t even look back.

# # #

It must have been how a broken siege would have felt if they had lived in medieval times, the enemy storming inside through the fallen gates as people ran away in the streets toward their houses for security under the darkening sky. Their castle had fallen. Their wall, their only protection against the dead was gone.

But there was no regret in Amanda. I know, Rick had said, and she’d read his acceptance in the simple words. They were going to face the consequences together. Like always. Ups and downs. Good and bad. They face everything together. She grabbed Rick’s hand and linked her fingers through his tightly as they ran to the infirmary, following Daryl who had Carl on his shoulders.

Joan and Carol were waiting for them in the infirmary, Joan on the doorway, Carol even on the porch’s steps. “Put him down—” Joan yelled at Daryl, pointing to the surgery table in the spacious open room where Amanda had seen Joan practice countless times before.

Inside, everything was in chaos as much as outside. There was a crowd in the room that stayed after the Wolves’ attack to help Joan and Carol and the wounded people. Amanda even spied Deanna beside her husband, opting to stay after Amanda had left them. They all looked stunned and frightened as they watched them running inside like mad, the walkers trailing after them like hungry hounds that smelled their prey. The gasp of fright and shock rang in the room as Daryl put Carl down on the table, Joan already pushing a metal gurney with the surgery equipment over the head of it.

She wondered briefly if this was how they had rushed her to the prison after she had gotten shot, at the edge of death, but she suppressed the thought at the moment it appeared in her mind. Carl wasn’t at the edge of death. They couldn’t have stopped the bleeding for full, but they had come back to Alexandria at top speed. They hadn’t lost that much time. Amanda had made sure of it.

But Joan still shouted, “We need blood!” Her head was still bowed as she was working on Carl rapidly, prepping him for the surgery, ignoring the rest of the room. “We need blood now.”

“I’ll give it—” Rick supplied in quickly, twisting his head at Joan from where he was bent down over Carl beside her.

Amanda quickly jerked her head from the other side of the table where she was bent over Carl too. “The wall’s down. We need you here—” she spoke fast, her grip tightening over the katana blade that she still held in her right hand. They were going to need to fight. The wall was breached and the whole armada of the dead was coming up more and more with each passing moment. Amanda could even hear the sounds getting louder and louder outside.

Before she could ask who had the same blood, A Positive, Clarice ran over to them. “We’re the same blood! I’ll do it.”

Amanda nodded as Carol quickly took Clarice’s elbow and sat her on a chair beside Carl, starting a catheter for blood infusion.

Rick took a step backward as Joan pushed him away from Carl’s head side to open the pressure they’d made over his wound. When the ruined sight of his eyes appeared, Rick whipped around as if he refused to see the wound now, refused to see his child like this. Her eyes prickled, and after she held back herself so long, so damn long, only letting herself focus on bringing him back to the town, Amanda finally gave in and let a few tears roll down from her hurting eyes. She’d no idea where Bob was, and it was that moment she noticed the man hadn’t returned with Glenn and others. There was only Joan.

Amanda breathed out lowly as Joan intubated Carl, placing the mouthpiece of the respiratory on his mouth. Joan could do this. She had already saved Amanda’s life. She had Dr. Hershel and Bob then, but Joan still could do this. She’d been working her ass off how to make a surgery all herself since they had arrived in Alexandria.

Amanda believed in her friend. Her dark eyes cut over to Amanda for a second as Rick walked over to the door.

You don’t know how it feels, Jessie’s demented scream ran over in her mind. No. No. Jessie wasn’t right. Amanda knew. She damn knew. She bent down further and placed a small brush of a kiss over Carl’s hair at his temple, swearing she was always going to be there for them. Always.

Snarls and growls aroused more, drifting inside the room further. The sudden bang on the screen door created a frightening buzz in the crowd as Amanda understood they’d managed to figure out how to move up over the steps to the porch.

Rick shifted to the window to check it.

“Did they—did they get in?” Tobin whispered.

Rick didn’t even respond.

“Carol!” Joan yelled, shouting quick orders for a few meds and instruments that Amanda didn’t even know how to pronounce.

Another bang, and then screams followed. Through the window where Rick stood beside, Amanda could see two rotters attacking at the door, more still crawling up over the steps to reach them.

Rick’s back strained as he straightened, his hand drumming on the window’s frame, his shoulders so tense even though his neck was inclined forward. Amanda felt the fear deep in her stomach.

“Rick—” she called out to him.

He didn’t respond to her, either.

Amanda watched as his hand dropped from the window and went toward his hip. “Rick!” she cried out this time more agitated, with more fear…

He grabbed the ax at his belt, and his hand reached out to the door. Amanda straightened up beside Carl.

“RICK!” she yelled behind him as Rick yanked the door open. “GODDAMMIT!”

Rick didn’t even flinch, didn’t hesitate. He raised the ax above his head and struck down at the closest rotter in front of him outside the doorway. It took under a few seconds before twisting aside, he yanked the ax free from the skull and struck the other one the next.

Amanda was screaming at him madly now to stop, but Rick was beyond listening. Without even glancing at her, he marched down from the steps toward the rotters.

# # #

Rick couldn’t watch this again.

He just couldn’t. Amanda was calling out to him from behind, but Rick couldn’t turn.

The was a constant droning in his ears, ringing and ringing continuously as the scenes flashed over his eyes, Carl’s ruined eye, blood covering his white face now, passed out. Joan intubated him, yelling for blood. His son needed blood again because Rick couldn’t have protected him.

Old memories were mixed with the new ones. Rick was carrying him in the field to Hershel, he was carrying Amanda to him in the prison, his body was soaked with blood. He was looking for Lori in the boiler room but there were a lock of her hair and her wedding band in a puddle of blood and pieces of guts to find. Carl’s small, ghastly body was shooting up in the bed like he was possessed, Amanda’s body trashing up before she slumped back on the metal slab lifeless, sprawled out like a puppet that its strings cut off. That damn beep of the flat line was drumming in his ears and the absolute silence as he waited for Carl to wake up with Lori. They were all playing together in his mind, all the times that Rick had screwed up.

Then he was suddenly running in the dark, filthy, gloomy prison corridors madly, his hand tightened over his ax. The scenes stopped and as if a veil lifted off him, Rick looked around. He was circled with the dead, and he didn’t mind. Fighting with them was easier than watching his son fighting for his life.

Raising his weapon in the air again, Rick struck at the closest walker.

# # #

Amanda quickly bowed her head toward Carl as she saw Rick heading in the middle of the walker party, striking with that mad stance. “Carl, I need to go to him, sweetheart—” she whispered with worry and fear, even though she didn’t want to leave his side.

She didn’t want to leave him alone here now, wanted to stay with him the whole time as Joan did her stuff, but she couldn’t let Rick go like that, too, goddammit! “I’m gon’ get him back, I promise,” she whispered, giving another brush of kiss over his head before she dashed out of the infirmary.

Beth cut her in her way before she sprinted out of the door. “I’m coming too!”

“No!” Amanda protested heatedly. “Stay here!” she shouted back, storming away from the steps, “I’m gonna get him back!”

She first emptied her magazine, clearing her way toward Rick as he fought like a possessed man in the middle of the walkers, truly unhinged. In another time, Amanda would have stopped and looked stunned like each time she saw Rick in this state, the beast in him unleashed, but there was no time even for that.

When she was out of her rounds, she tucked her gun back in her holster and unsheathed the katana blade. Her eyes cut over quickly toward the armory. The machine guns must be there, and Olivia had been there with the keys the last time Amanda had seen the woman. They needed to get there and grabbed the guns. To deal with those motherfuckers, they needed guns, better guns.

But Rick didn’t look like he was trying to make it to the armory, he was just…fighting.

It was that moment when Amanda understood he had truly lost it.

Fear skyrocketed in her, her heat madly thudding her chest and it wasn’t because she was fighting with the dead to make her way through and reach him. “RICK!” she screamed his name again, but it was no use.

He was just striking, kicking, even punching and kicking the walkers, but he wasn’t still hearing her.

“Riiick, come back! Come back!” she shouted, trying to reach him through the walkers as he advanced on, diving away further in the sea of the walkers…And Amanda thought she was losing her mind.

“RICK!” All the fears that had evoked in her when she had thought she had lost him surfaced again, hitting her as his name left her in a scream. “DON’T LEAVE US!” she screamed with all she had. “DON’T LEAVE ME!”

Her desperate mind added a please inside, begging, if he abandoned her too…

It must have been her desperate begging that finally froze his craze. His arm above his head sweeping in an arc to fall on the dead halted as Rick glanced at her over his shoulder. Amanda stared back at him, mouthing her last words again silently before she lunged at the walker coming at her and sliced its head off. Turning toward her completely, Amanda saw him trying to dive through the walkers between them to come back to her.

She let out a deep rough breath of relief, her eyes moist. But they were still too many of the dead encircling them creating two separate islands and their backs were open to the threats as no one was covering their asses. They weren’t going to make it. They weren’t going to reach each other.

Tears filled in her heart, in her eyes, but not for herself this time, but for leaving her people, the people she had come to love as her family for the first time Amanda had known herself. She was denying it, like always, fighting with her everything, spinning on her axis to cover all her sides in defense, madly striking attacks, dancing in combat.

Rick was the same too, trying to reach her.

Hope swelled her chest, bursting out to life.

They were going to make it. They had to make it.

They didn’t give up. Never. They never surrendered. Life is a struggle. You surrender when you’re dead.

With the last amount of strength, pushing herself beyond belief, Amanda doubled her effort to cut through her way toward the man she loved.

After a lifetime later, she was finally in his arms, almost.

There was no time for another heartfelt reunion like they had found each other in the cabin, no time for a hug or a kiss. The dead were still lunging at them, trying to get a piece of them. Her chest was pressed against his as they fought together in that way, covering each other’s back face to face. His eyes were sharpened with intent, with no trace of madness inside now, glinting keenly like sapphire. He’d come back. He had come back to her. They shared a glance between a strike, and without any word, they understood each other.

When they finally spun around, and Amanda felt his sturdy strained muscles against her, relief coursed through her stronger, but it was short-lived. Even back to back together, they were still in the middle of a sea of the walkers.

“We need to fall back—” Amanda yelled, her eyes darting toward Rick.

“The armory—” Rick said, jerking his head toward the half-burned house. “We need to get there. I’ve got a plan!”

Amanda didn’t feel the need to ask him to deliberate, not only because she didn’t have time, but because she trusted him. They started making their way toward the armory, but time also wasn’t working in their favor. Each second they spent made the dead more aware of their presence, knowing the fresh meat was close by. More and more had come to join their ranks, creating even a worse, crowded circle.

The dead always enclosed their ambushed preys like this in instinct, pushing in and pushing in toward the center, creating a stampede. They were still fighting, both refusing to admit what it was, although Amanda knew it.

Their last battle, a lost battle. They were fighting a lost battle.

Amanda still didn’t stop, didn’t surrender. She was sad that her life was ending like this when she felt there could be a new chapter for it, just when she finally felt there was a lot more waiting for her on the horizon, more than she had ever had, but still, she was glad that her end was going to be like this too, with the man she loved, fighting together, their backs on each other, almost hand to hand.

There were worse ways to die than this.

She held no blame for Rick. This wasn’t his fault, and she had made her choice. She was sad to leave behind her family, but this was their reality too; there was no escaping from it. The town was fallen. The dead were here. Everyone had a right to choose how to die, much like they had a right to choose how to live. And this was her choice, and she would never ever regret anything she did with Rick because she loved him.

“Rick…” Her eyes darted at him between two strikes, “Rick, I—I lo—”

Before she finished, flares suddenly erupted in the sky.

# # #

It took a few seconds the door opened again after Amanda rushed out of the infirmary, not caring what kind of hell she was diving in following Rick. “Glenn!” the hunter yelled to his friend, “Get the remaining flares! We gotta draw walkers away from ‘em!”

Deanna hoped the Korean man didn’t check out his weapons in this instance upon arrival. Her eyes cut over to the window Rick had been just standing a minute ago, seeing outside. Her Alexandria, the home Deanna had given everything, even her son. It was dying. Death, fear, hunger, everything she had been trying to keep away from her, was eating her inside out.

Alexandria was falling apart.

She walked closer to the window as behind her the nurse shouted orders, trying to save one of the next generations that Deanna wanted to leave a better world behind, a better legacy. There was a part of her that always felt guilty for leaving the world like this to them. Sometimes in her dark, long nights, Deanna thought about it, wondering if they had been more careful, more alert, would they have stopped this? They were elected to serve and protect, but when the civilization that humanity had managed to arise after thousands of years fell apart, they’d only watched it.

Just like Deanna was watching Alexandria getting torn apart.

Her eyes roamed over the sea of the dead that circled them outside, in the yards, in the streets, in the fields, upon the hill. They were everywhere, but the heart of it was beating just across them at the other side as Rick and Amanda were trying to reach each other in the middle of the dead sea.

The sight of them cut through her like a crystal bullet in her head. Their situation was hopeless, but they weren’t surrendering. Deanna remembered the times that she used to spend studying World War II, trying to imagine herself in such desperate times, and trying to imagine how she would have reacted under such circumstances if she was given power.

Her eyes darting up at the darkening sky in the dusk as she stood in her darkest hour, Deanna made her choice. She turned back from the window and faced her people.

“Almost a century ago,” she started. Her voice cut through the buzz inside the infirmary, making her people listen to her when she spoke to them after long, long days. It was only Joan who was still working on the boy. “A wise man said we shall defend our homes, whatever the cost may be. Just like Rick always tells us.”

“If we want to live, we have to fight for it. Deserve it. This is it—” she jerked her head outside. “We either let it go, watch it as it’s taken from us, or we fight for it!”

“We shall fight in the streets,” Deanna continued, tightening her left hand into a fist. “We shall fight in the houses, in the fields. We shall fight in the ruins, on the platforms, on the broken walls. Alexandria is our home.” Her eyes fell on a weapon someone had left behind over a chair beside the door, and she grabbed it.

 “And they CANNOT take it from us so long as we stand for it!” She raised the old-fashioned weapon in the air, a weapon that Deanna wasn’t even sure what was called, and cried out, “Rick and Amanda are out there, making their stand. Will they make it alone?”

Without waiting for an answer, Deanna opened the door and started to walk out, leaving the door open as a wordless invitation.

A few seconds later, she heard the footsteps behind over the cries of the growls and snarls of the dead. First, she saw Reg, her soulmate following her like he always did, together in life and death. Spence did, too, then after, Deanna spied Alexandrians, starting to come out.

# # #

The blossoming red patterns on the dark canvas above them felt like a miracle, but there was no time to question their existence. People must’ve shot the flare guns to draw the dead away from them, so as soon as their attention got distracted by the new flashy light in the sky, decaying heads lifting upward, looking almost mesmerized, Rick and Amanda got onto the work.

They quickly swept clean their close proximity. The edges of the stampede had started drifting off toward the sounds of the flares and through the opening, Amanda saw Daryl with the flare gun just like she had thought, firing the gun to give them an opening. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Glenn was doing the same thing on the other side. Their family had come to save their asses.

A smile faintly crossed over her lips. Of course, they did. Just like she had sprinted after Rick, they must have followed her outside too, even in this hell. They never left each other alone. She wondered if the other Alexandrians would join them, but she knew it was too much to ask for them right now. They had passed their rite of passage today, but this—all of it, the herd, the Wolves, then this, them running down the wall, causing this to get Carl back, without even giving them a warning back, it was too much. It was even too much for her, even though Amanda didn’t regret their decision.

She knew if they were going to live through the night, they were going to answer for it, people weren’t going to like what they did, but she didn’t care. They had had to get back Carl, so they did it. At whatever cost.

“Glenn—” Rick shouted at the younger man, kicking a rotter away from himself, “Draw them to the pond! I’ve got a plan!”

Amanda caught the younger man’s nod even in the gloom of the winter dusk. Amanda was still in the dark about this plan, but when Rick ordered her to pass it to Daryl, she obliged without a word.

“Daryl!” she yelled, “Get them to the pond.”

When they started retreating, Rick threw at a glance. “The dynamites! You said you took them back. Are they still in the armory?”

Her belief or not, Amanda still halted for a split second, twisting toward him, her back supported against his before she plunged the sword through the rotter’s head in front of her. “Rick, don’t tell me you think what I think you think!”

“Yeah—” he breathed out laboriously, his ax raising another time. “We’re gonna make some noise. The walkers are already here inside,” he continued before she could even open her mouth as if he sensed she was going to oppose. Was she going to? Amanda wasn’t sure anymore.

“We need to get rid of them. Secure the wall again—” he went on. “We gather them around the pond, then blow ‘em up. We’ll deal with the rest after.”

She wondered if they would call it insane again, or desperate, or just necessary. Perhaps there wasn’t any difference between them anymore. “Sounds like a plan…” so she only muttered.

“On three, turn around and run—” Rick said in answer and started counting, “One—two—RUN!”

Spinning around herself after kicking off the last walker had been trying to get her, Amanda followed the order, sprinting after Rick as he cleaned the way a few steps ahead of her. He grabbed her hand when Amanda caught him, and they started running to the armory as fast as they could.

A walker closed on in them from her right side. Forced to act, Amanda let go of Rick’s hand, drawing the katana blade again, but before she rolled off the rotting head, something else happened. A bullet wheezed through the air bypassing her and dropped the dead at the roadside. It was then Amanda noticed people.

People were leaving the security of their houses where they’d taken refuge after the wall had fallen, some on the porches shooting, some in the gardens and driveways, some even getting to the streets. Alexandria….Alexandria was waking up. Standing up.

Another walker lunged at her but was put down by Mr. Johnson. The old man nodded at her as Amanda nodded back then they ran both different sides.

Before they dashed into the armory, they picked many of their townspeople in the streets. Amanda even saw Deanna herself with her husband and Spencer before they arrived and slipped inside. As she closed the door behind her, Rick was already running to the back, bypassing the shelves at the entrance. He crouched over the crate on the ground that held explosives that the army had left behind when Amanda joined him.

“Did you see it?” she asked breathlessly, and it wasn’t only because she had been fighting and running like hell for hours and hours.

Pushing the crate’s lid, Rick bobbed his head, almost uninterested. “Yeah, they’re doing what we always tell them to do. They’re fighting for their lives.”

Amanda wanted to ask if he knew it, knew that people would come out if they saw him making a stand on his own when he left the infirmary, but Rick got to his feet, finding what they had come to look for.

He gingerly weighted two bundles of red tubes on his palm. “We need to find a fuse cord to detonate them safely. There should be Visco cords here. I saw ‘em.”

Amanda nodded and started rummaging through shelves to find the green fuses. Amanda was certain of it, she’d seen them too, but the whole place was still upside down after the attack, the windows crashed, the walls half-burned, the interiors raided. When she found them, she rushed back to Rick and they tied the longer cord at the ignition spark of the two bundles. Rick found another flare gun inside and they quickly left the armory. When they were back in the streets, Amanda saw again the whole Alexandria outside, fighting in every inch of the grounds under the dark.

Seeing Aaron close to them, Rick shouted at the recruiter, “Draw them toward the pond!” They circled the main road, shooting the instructions, killing every walker on their path as they gathered up their people as they led the dead along the way. Amanda was firing the flare gun that they had found in the armory along with Rick, then suddenly behind them, the pond lit up.

Sweeping around herself, Amanda saw the dark surface burning with fire. Amanda stared at the flaming waters as Daryl and Glenn found them over a gazebo close to the pond. “Found the fuel in the maintenance building,” Glenn explained. “Burned half of it to make a bonfire.”

Well, they’d made a bonfire at the end, she supposed. She thought of the fuel they must have spent to do it but felt no regret. It was her idea at the beginning, and they were going to need to look for a lot of supplies after tonight. Lots of supplies. But those all were thoughts and troubles for tomorrow, not for tonight.

“What’s the plan?” Glenn asked, looking at them as if sensing the same. It was good to see the supply runner like this too, life coming back to him. They would never forget their losses, all the people they had lost, but they were the living ones, so they had to live.

Rick jerked his head toward the bundles that Amanda still carried in her hands, before he said simply, “We’re gonna blow ‘em up.”

# # #

The explosion took Anne by surprise.

All of the things they had lived today, survived through, this had to be the crowning piece. Anne was fuming, so furious with these people, if she could have helped it, she would have even left them to the walkers. When Brion had asked her if they would go out and help the fight like the other townspeople had started to do, Anne’s answer had been brief and simple. No.

Anne was done with showing an effort for these crazy people. Everything, everything they did today was a disaster, running down the wall like that…only to bring back his son? Jeopardizing everyone else?

Rick Grimes was a good fighter, relentless and fierce, but he was too driven by his emotions.

It had taken her almost a quarter of an hour to understand what he was trying to do as he circled the town madly with his lover towed at his heels, drawing the dead toward the pond. She had thought they were going to make a stand there, but as the pond burst into flames and the explosion rang in the air, Anne finalized her decision. Anne couldn’t live with these people.

No. It was time for her to follow the new world order.

# # #

Standing in front of the broken part of the wall that they had already started to fix, Carter realized what he had started to question in the last days was true. Father Gabriel had been right in what he had said about Rick Grimes. When the chips turned and Rick had to save his son at the expense of them, the man truly hadn’t hesitated.

The proof of it was just in front of him, laying in the ruins in their finest hour, one would have been remembered such as even if Alexandria lasted for a thousand years; a victory they had won with blood, toil, sweat, and tears.

# # #

As they sat on the infirmary’s steps, Amanda had rested her head on his shoulder as Rick kept her tucked against his side under his arm.

Alexandria truly looked like a battlefield now after a finished battle, smells of gasoline and death in the air, people coming in and out, sweeping the streets, dragging the dead toward the pile they’d started at the other side of the still slowly burning pond. The real amount of the destruction was going to be revealed in the morning under the new light, but even now things didn’t look good. Daryl and Glenn had moved a team to take care of the remains of the walkers at the explosion site as Carter and Tobin had led another team to the broken part of the wall to commence reinforcements. The tall man was looking at Rick with narrowed eyes whenever he saw Rick, silently prideful in their well-earned victory, but still wary, Rick had read it, but he hadn’t still made a scene.

He didn’t care. Whatever was going to happen, was going to happen. He was ready to face the consequences of his actions. No. Rick was just waiting now. Just waiting for his son to wake up.

Joan had said Carl wasn’t in any fatal danger anymore after the surgery, but still needing time to recover. So they were waiting. Both of them weren’t talking, tired and exhausted beyond belief, but it wasn’t the cause of their silence. No. They didn’t need words anymore today.

At the crack of the dawn, sunlight slowly lightening the sky, Amanda muttered, her head still resting on his shoulder like the whole night. “Is it finished, Rick?”

Rick nodded, staring at the horizon “Yeah. It is.”

Yeah, Rick was finished. His son was safe and alive, the woman he loved was in his arms. He didn’t ask for anything more. He was going to find those sonsofbitches and take their revenge, but not today. Today he was just going to have this respite. So taking her hand, Rick stood up, and they walked inside. Together they sat at Carl’s bedside as his boy slept before Rick took his smaller hand and squeezed it.

It was a flutter that Rick felt first, barely there, tingling over his skin, featherlike brush against his palm that let him know that Carl had woken up.

Notes:

All right, we are DONE! Yayayaya! Hehe. I'm so very excited for this update as I finally finalized the plot, and finished the 'No Way Out' arc. The next and last chapter is gonna be the aftermath of course, as I will tie up the last loose ends and set up the setting for the next book.

There were THREE Winston Churchill quotes from his infamous speeches in this chapter. The wise man Deanna had quoted was of course him, and her speech was also inspired by Churchill's infamous 'we shall fight on the beaches' speech as I thought it was the most accurate one for their situation. The chapter's title, 'whatever the cost may be' is directly from that speech too, and I couldn't find anything better to formulate Rick's mindset in this chapter. To get back Carl in the town. I've always prepared Amanda for this moment, too, for the end, screaming at him not to leave her like how she didn't want him to leave her during the last time they had sex because the poor girl still has got her abandonment issues. Frankly, that part was even more important for me to do than making Rick fall off over a cliff, hehe, because I wanted Amanda to scream at him desperately 'Don't leave me' :)

The second Churchill quote was 'their finest hour' and the other is 'blood, toil, tears and sweat'.

And, of course, I NEEDED to make Daryl snap at Joan out of guilt, telling her 'he ain't her bitch', lol. That's such a Daryl thing. That was my endgame for the end of this book, too, I know, I'm evil :p

With the next chapter, Amanda and Rick WILL finally have the talk they needed to do like an eternity ago, hehe.

Stay tuned, and don't forget to drop a review if you're still reading and enjoying it. Thank you!

Chapter 56: 'For the first time again'

Summary:

Three days after Carl's injury as he leaves the infirmary and comes back home, Amanda and Rick finally make the talk they have been holding off for months.

Notes:

Oh my, the last chapter. This's....awkward. Attention to the chapter's title, because I couldn't find anything better for the last chapter, stealing the one with Rick and Morgan who Amanda has filled his absence during the story.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

On the third day after the battle, there was a weird stance in Alexandria, something Amanda didn’t know how to express without quoting a phrase like ‘it was the best of times, it was the worst of times.’ The best was their hard-won victory that the whole Alexandria seemed to revel in rightfully, they had earned it. They had fought for their home and won. Amanda had even heard some townspeople calling what had happened three days ago the battle of Alexandria.

Yesterday they had made a memorial on the part of the wall that still had reinforcements ongoing, commemorating their losses and making sure that the people they had lost was always going to be remembered, their names, their sacrifices stay written on the walls of the town they had died to protect. Amanda had carved Deanna's name with her hand, just next to Aiden. The Matriarch of the Monroe family had fallen in the battle; they found out in the morning just after Carl woke up when Spencer carried her mother to the infirmary in his arms.

Amanda had cried then, cried so hard it took her an hour to stop as Rick held her in his arms.

Rick had put down his own script too in front of the gate, a sign that welcomed any stranger that came to Alexandria; Alexandria Safe Zone. Mercy for the lost. Vengeance for the plunderers. To her, it sounded as much as an oath as a warning.

Below that script, Amanda had added on the wall: Perfer et obdura, dolor hic tibi proderit olim. Be patient and tough, someday this pain will be useful to you, Amanda passed it through her mind during the whole memorial and as she put winter flowers on Deanna’s grave just beside Aiden with unshed tears in her eyes.

Rick had gone out for the whole day after the service, looking for the Wolves and the remaining herd to clean their perimeters after quickly fixing outer watches with Daryl and Abraham. Amanda had opted to stay in once again. There was a part of her that wanted to go, wanted to take revenge, find them and make them regret, those animals' words swirling in her at every second that Amanda let her guard down, together with Jessie’s frenzied, demented screams, but Amanda didn’t let them stray her from what was important. Her family. Her family, Carl, Judy; they all needed her here. This was what was important. Them. Always.

Besides, there were so many things to do, so many things to take care of. They needed to find out how many supplies they had truly lost and how many equipment and houses were down, what could be salvaged, what was beyond repair. It was a tedious job, making inventory for everything, but someone had to do it, coordinate people, and direct the efforts. Deanna was gone, Denise was in her house, suffering a broken leg. No one had appointed her, but when her name started rising in the air, people coming to her looking for orders and directions once more, Amanda finally gave in and stepped up. Amanda wasn’t going to disappoint her people when they needed her, just like how she had sworn when the Wolves had attacked.

The little tidbits about the day poked at her consciousness, something else was trying to get through her barriers, the smug and cryptic way the Wolves’ leader had been in the woods before the truck set off. There was even a part of her that wanted the man caught alive so they could interrogate him, but Amanda didn’t voice it out.

Carl was also resting in the house, they had brought him back home this morning. Beth was nursing him to his health as Joan and Carol tended the other injured in the infirmary. Amanda sensed Carl also preferred it that way as the teenage boy didn’t want to see anyone else. This morning Clarice had come to see him, but Carl had refused to see even her.

It worried Amanda, and she wanted to talk about it with Rick, but she couldn’t have the chance. They so scarcely saw each other in the last days, trying to pull back the town together after the first shock, after what they had done, because yeah, it was the best of times, and it was the worst of times. Amid everything, Amanda was also aware of the glances that shot at them whenever they passed in the town, as wary as ever.

Amanda wasn’t surprised, Rick didn’t look like he cared. They both knew they were going to have to deal with unhappy fellow townspeople. Amanda didn’t miss the looks Carter and Anne gave them, even though they kept their mouths shut. Amanda didn’t care about Anne and her people, she would gladly have them leave the town now, but she didn’t want things to get worse with Carter just after they had started to have their footing. They’d managed to reach an understanding between them, and she didn’t want to lose it.

She had also come with Rick to the master bedroom last night after they left the watch in the infirmary to Glenn. Last night Rick had handcuffed the critically wounded at the bedposts, and Amanda almost feared for another rouse because of it, but no one had made an objection. When they were back, they were so tired, they just fell in the bed after putting Judy in her crib, and possibly blackened out more than went to sleep.

Her whole body was aching, pricking, and burning, and she was sure Rick was in a similar condition. His abdomen was wrapped in bandages so much that Amanda thought for a second to ask him to stay in, but she knew he wouldn’t. While Rick changed her bandages, his expression grew sterner although his touch stayed gentle as he smeared Joan’s ointment over her reddish skin. After he was done, he gingerly took her in his embrace, and kiss her hair.

Then Amanda just wanted to melt in his arms and fall back on the bed again and stay there in his arms for the rest of the day. But the duty always called for them, and it didn't take long for someone to shout for him from downstairs.

Slowly, Amanda left the bed and went to Judy’s crib. She had put the baby to a little nap after Carl saw his sister in the morning. Amanda wanted to check on him again now before she left the house too. She had to check how the inventories were going. The worst thing that worried her was the broken solar panels and the accumulators to store the energy they produced and Tobin and Eugene were going to check today if they could be repaired. If they would lose energy in the middle of the winter, things weren’t going to be easy for them. Especially given that more than half of the pantry was gone now, too. It was too late to start seeding now, even though Rick had said yesterday they were going to begin in the greenhouse ASAP.

Taking the baby girl with her, Amanda went to Beth’s room. They had settled Carl in her room for now so that he wouldn’t need to go up to the attic, Beth taking his place in the attic instead. Amanda cracked the door open, knocking. “Carl, are you awake?” she asked tentatively before she entered.

“Yeah…” came the low reply from inside. “Come in.”

Beth was with him, sitting beside him on the bed, and in her hands, there was a soup that she had probably cooked herself. Amanda remembered the times Beth used to do this for her, nursing her back to her health in the prison after she got shot. There was an exasperated expression over Carl’s face now as much as Amanda’s face must have had then.

“He doesn’t drink it, Amanda—” Beth chided, slanting at her a look. “He needs to have liquid.”

Amanda nodded, giving them a small smile. “I’ll speak from personal experience here, but she’s right.”

Carl shrugged. The katana blade that Amanda had left on his bedstand after the battle was beside him in the bed now, and Carl was playing with the handle idly, not giving her his attention as he muttered disinterestedly, “I’m not hungry.”

The smile vanished off her face. Amanda bobbed her head again, trying not to stare at him longer than she was supposed. The upper left side of his face was fully in bandages, not just his right eye. Joan had said he didn’t have scars on his cheek but below of his eyes had suffered at the impact. Amanda had seen his scare when Joan had treated his wound the first time and almost cried. She had managed to hold herself forcefully, holding Rick’s hand. His shoulders were as tense as to how it had been before he snapped and left the infirmary in his surgery, but relaxing his shoulder, Rick walked over to the bed and helped Joan.

Amanda was going to do that one day, too, show the teenager that he shouldn’t be ashamed of himself because she had begun to feel like Carl was after he’d refused to see Clarice this morning. “I need to go and check the inventories,” Amanda spoke, cooling herself down, forcing her voice to stay placid. “Send Mika if you need something, okay?”

Maria was going to stay with Mika and Judy as Carol still helped Joan in the infirmary. The former nanny had come with Clarice today in the morning before the girl left after Carl’s refusal. Holding back a sigh, Amanda started climbing down the stairs and left Judy with Maria in the living room. Sarah had come to play with Mika and Judy, Cinnamon accompanying them on the blankets. Amanda really wanted to sit down with them, staying at home with her family, but duty still called.

Murmuring a thank you to the older woman in appreciation, Amanda left the house. Outside, Clarice was waiting on the porch. Amanda halted in the doorway seeing her as she realized the teenage girl hadn’t left as Amanda thought. “Officer Shepherd—” she quickly said as Amanda closed the door but stopped when Amanda shook her head.

“I think it’s time we leave ‘officer’ thing behind us, Clarice—” she told the girl. Perhaps it was also one of the things she needed to accept like her love for Rick. Rick had told her he had grown out of his uniform so perhaps it was her time too. She had felt it in the prison, felt there would be more to her than just being a cop before she had decided to cut her hair. Denise had told her that she wasn’t defined by her job so perhaps she also had to start to pick up where she had left off in the prison. They had lost the prison and suffered, but Alexandria was still theirs.

She gave Clarice a small smile. “Just call me Amanda.”

The girl looked surprised for a second, but then a pleased expression spread over her face before it disappeared quickly. “A—Amanda—” she called out, walking to her closer. “Is Carl okay?” she fired her question, her voice dropping into a whisper. “He didn’t want me to come this morning.”

 “He’s okay—” Amanda replied. “But he went through something trouble, Clarice. Perhaps he just doesn’t want you to see him yet.”

“But why?” the girl almost cried out, forgetting to keep her voice quiet. “I don’t care!”

Amanda shook her head. “Imagine your positions reserved, would you want him to see you with an injury like that?”

Sudden tears appeared in her honey flecked green eyes, and she looked nothing like her usual cool, chic bitchy personality when she murmured, “But he lets Beth…”

“Beth is his family—” Amanda reminded her. “They’ve been through a lot together,” she went on, before advising her, “You should give him time.”

Although she still looked hurt, Clarice jerked her head in a nod. Amanda felt bad for the girl, recognizing her feelings of exclusion all too well. She held her upper arm gently. “Don’t be jealous of Beth—” she said as kind as possible, just to make her feel a bit better. “Carl doesn’t love her like that.”

Amanda knew that and she wanted the girl to know it, too, but there was still hurt in her eyes, the feeling of exclusion. There was nothing to do for it at the moment, though. Carl and she had to work it out together. Amanda wasn’t happy to admit it, but a part of her understood the teenager, perhaps even felt the same. Although Amanda always reminded herself that Michonne’s relationship hadn’t been like that with Rick, she had always felt that worry. Amanda still felt it deep down that she could never be a friend to Carl like Michonne had been. Carl had let her comfort him after Nicholas’s death, had felt so bad after their breakup, but Amanda still had the same fears. What if she let them down? She swore at his side she was going to protect him at whatever cost, too, but what if she couldn’t do it?

Jessie’s last moment skated over her mind—but Amanda pushed them down forcefully again. No, she couldn’t think of that anymore, couldn’t think of Jessie, Ron, that animal’s words, Jessie’s demented screams in her grief…They were in their past and should stay there with everything else.

Letting thoughts dissipate in her mind, Amanda motioned to the girl. “C’mon, let’s go. Joan needs help in the infirmary,” she remarked. Giving her a job in the infirmary would work for her too, would keep her mind off the stuff, and Joan and Carol needed help before they fell asleep on their feet. “And where’s Beatrice?” she questioned. She hadn’t seen the other Reese sister with them this morning.

“She went out with the teams—” Clarice answered, sounding almost uninterested as Amanda raised an eyebrow while they walked to the infirmary. “She asked Glenn if she could go out to patrol with him.”

Her eyebrow lost under her hairline, but she could question it further as she saw Joan in the infirmary’s back deck for the side. She gestured to Clarice. “Go inside and ask Carol if they need help. I’m coming in a minute.”

The woman was alone in the steps, as Daryl had left with Rick this morning. But she looked shaken, truly shaken, her hands having a tremble. Amanda’s eyebrows furrowed with a slight frown because something just told him this wasn’t only the stress of the last days. No. Something had happened.

Amanda just knew it.

“Hey—” Amanda greeted her softly, sitting down beside her on the steps. “What happe—”

Whipping to her, Joan cut her off, “Daryl broke up with me.”

“What?” Amanda had all shouted.

“You heard me—” Joan sniped forcefully, “He broke up with me. I went to see him last night. He kicked me out of the garage.”

“Joan—I’m sure—” Amanda started again because she was sure there had to be a reason for it, something…because Daryl had returned even before Glenn and the others came back. He’d returned after he learned the attack. Amanda didn’t kid herself it was only because of Carol and the kids, but Joan still jerked her head.

“He told me never come again, Amanda—” her friend told her bitterly. “He just washed his hands off me!”

Fear gripped her worse. “D-did you tell him about the baby?”

With venom, Joan looked at her before she snapped. “No. Never! If I tell him, he’s just gonna think I’m trying to bind him to myself with a baby. No.” She shook her head even more vehemently. “You will never tell him, Amanda, swear it!”

“Calm down, of course, I won’t if you don’t want to. But Joan, you can’t hide it—” Suddenly, Amanda stopped, looking at the nurse before she remarked slowly, “You can’t if you’ll keep it.”

“I have to think this thoroughly—” Joan replied honestly. “I wasn’t even sure if I could have a baby in such a world, but having a baby like this? From a man who thinks of me like a dead weight attached to his hip?” Her beautiful dark curls swayed in the air as Joan shook her head again. “No. I have to think about it.”

There was nothing for her but to accept. “Okay—” Amanda said, “Just know that we’ll support you in every way, Joan. Whatever you decide.”

Rick told her before they would do, and even though Daryl wouldn’t have wanted this child, they still would support Joan if she decided to keep it. She just couldn’t believe Daryl behaving like this. Perhaps there was a story behind it, but Joan had already made her swear not to talk to him.

Later, she told herself, as she stood up. They were going to handle this later. Not right now. They all were having big emotions right now after what had happened, having ups and downs. Perhaps Daryl and Joan had to work it out like Carl and Clarice.

Like she and Rick.

Because, yeah, they still needed to work through a lot of stuff, Amanda knew. Admitting you were in love with someone didn’t make stuff disappear magically. Unfortunately, love still did not indeed conquer everything. Rick and she had to finish what they had started in the cabin.

She briefly wondered if she should go and pack up her stuff from the attic and bring them to the master bedroom because staying there wasn’t an option for her anymore. Staying anywhere without Rick wasn’t an option anymore. But God, it still felt odd doing it without talking with Rick first.

She made a tour in the infirmary and went to check on Eugene and Tobin in the solar panels' field. “It might be in the realm of my powers to salvage a dozen of them given chance,” the man with the mullet intoned dully in his weird, mechanic way of speaking, “but I must warn you that it will require plenty of supplies.”

“Make a list—” Amanda replied, the order leaving her easily, “We’ll look into it.”

 He left the men and continued to check on the construction of the reinforcements. As soon as Carter saw her, he walked to her purposely. Amanda realized quickly a talk was coming even before the tall, bald man started speaking, “I heard Carl got out of the infirmary this morning.”

Amanda nodded, waiting, but she didn’t need to wait long. “We need to talk about what had happened three days ago—” Carter remarked. There was a sternness in his voice that didn’t surprise Amanda, either.  “I do believe the council deserves an explanation.”

“We saved the town three days ago—” Amanda encountered evenly, looking back at him in the eye, wanting to make sure where she stood. “Whatever Rick did, he didn’t bring those walkers to us. They were already there.”

“Yeah. Outside the wall,” Carter pointed out. “Don’t get me wrong, Amanda—” he went on then, surprising her a bit this time. “I don’t blame you. I understand that we had to deal with the walkers outside, but the way you did,” he said. “It still deserves an explanation. You owe it to us. What Gabriel said about him…saving his family at the expense of us…” The man’s blue eyes bore through hers. “He didn’t hesitate, Amanda.”

 Amanda let out a sigh. “Okay. You’re right,” she admitted. “We need to talk. But let us have a breather first. It’s still too early for starting shouting matches.”

Carter gave her another pointed look.

“We pull ourselves back together first, then we talk,” Amanda offered.

The man nodded in agreement after then. “Okay.”

She made a few other rounds, checking on Olivia who was the head of the inventories before she heard the clamor in front of the main gate. Her heart skipped a beat, fearing something happened again, an accident or something. They had secured the broken part of the wall with the platform’s ruins and the remaining metal plates from the maintenance building, but shit happened. It was a crude job, they were perhaps going to need to do that part of the wall again the scratch, but for now, it had to suffice.

She scurried over the gate, and when her eyes caught Rick, her panic calmed down. They had returned from the patrol. She breathed out silently, trying to keep herself under check as she walked directly to Rick. Briefly, she wondered when they would settle down truly and stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. She didn’t want to live the rest of her life like this.

When they met beside the gate, Rick’s hands gingerly held the sides of her waist. He was still so careful with touching her after understanding the extent of her injuries. He dipped his head to give her a small welcome kiss.

They had been doing this each time they saw each other for three days now, giving each other small goodbye and welcome kisses in public, and despite everything, it still felt a bit weird. But Amanda never pulled back. Never. Never again was she going to make Rick feel like she didn’t want him.

“Everything is okay?” he asked like each time he came back from outside, taking her bandaged hand with the same carefulness as they walked toward their house. It was turning into a routine. One that Amanda also enjoyed greatly and shyly in secret.

She looped her head into a nod, even though she didn’t even know where to begin. She wanted to tell him Carl refused to see Clarice this morning. She wanted to tell him about Daryl and Joan’s breakup. There was Carter, too, who wasn’t happy with them, demanding an explanation. A half dozen of the solar panels were gone for good, and how many of the remaining ones would stay still operational was also questionable. She thought that would beat over Carter issue at the moment and she didn’t want him to get worried over Carl at the first moment he put a foot inside the town.

Rick was trying to put up a brave façade for their sake, but Amanda knew how hard this had been for him, could still remember his desperation after Carl was shot. The moment leaped on her again, Carl’s small stunned whisper ‘Dad’, Rick’s demented attack against the dead, her desperate plea for him not to leave her again. Suppressing them, Amanda tried to calm herself. It was past. It had passed. They were here.

“Eugene checked the solar panels today,” she informed him, collecting herself. “Six of them are gone. He said he can try to fix another half dozen, but I don’t know. I honestly still don’t trust his usefulness.”

The man might still be trying to play up his abilities to increase his position in the town just like he had tried with Abraham. Amanda trusted him as far as she could throw him. “Yeah, I know,” Rick agreed too. “We’ll see.”

“We need to start thinking of some power cuts,” he went on. “Did you already start with house sharing with Denise, right?”

“Yeah,” Amanda said. “I was on it before…” She shook her shoulder. “You know, everything.  I’ll prepare a plan for energy saving. I’m afraid we need to stop every device that spends power unless it’s a necessity.” No more movie nights for them or lighting up the lambs in the nights. They were going back to gas lamps and candle lights. “I’m gonna start a schedule for the use of the utilities too.”

Rick nodded absently. “Carol is gonna miss her washing machine…”

“Yeah,” Amanda muttered back before turning to him, “Did you find any lead?”

Rick shook his head. Amanda had already guessed they hadn’t since he looked too clean and collected for such an encounter, but she wanted to be sure. “No. Not yet,” Rick replied. “They returned to whatever hell they came from. But don’t worry—” His expression stiffened. “I’m gonna find them.”

Amanda nodded without a word. There was nothing to add. He was going to find them, and kill them. She almost told him to bring him in for questioning, but she didn’t. Some people were far better dead for everyone’s sake.

Rick gave her a look when they arrived at the house, stopping on the porch. He put his hands carefully on her waist again, tilting down his head to look at her. “Did you pack up?”

Her heartbeat started hastening. “I—I—” she stuttered before bowing her head, her cheeks reddening. “I thought…um…we might want to talk before I did.”

Rick let out a small sigh. “Yeah, I want to talk, but we don’t need to wait. Amanda—” he called out to her, sidling up to her and touching her chin to lift her head. “You don’t belong there, you know it, right?”

Gulping thickly, Amanda bobbed her head, his fingers still holding her chin gently. “Yeah. I know. I-I belong with you.”

He cupped her cheek with his hand and leaned in her to whisper in her ear. “Glad that it didn’t take me to fall over another cliff to make you admit that—” Amanda almost let out soft laughter hearing the teasing words, but his voice suddenly grew heated, enveloping that hoarse tone like each time he talked to her in the bed. “And I can’t wait to hear it again, babe, while we’re both in the bed.”

Heat rose in her, inside out, burning her worse than the burns on her skin. Rick stepped back, his look lit with that heat, but the next moment, his lips pulled out in a small kind smile before he took her hand again carefully. “C’mon, let’s first check on Carl then we get your stuff.”

 # # #

 Somehow Rick wasn’t surprised to find out Amanda still had cold feet about moving in with him although she hadn’t slept in her room since the attack. He had tried to lighten up the moment by teasing her so she wouldn’t get worked up, and because he could. He had missed teasing her, making her blush shyly as she ran her eyes away from him. Rick had so missed it.

Everything in the town was in this weird interim but Rick wasn’t going to have it with his family. They were going to be okay. Rick was going to make sure of that. He had told her he was finished on the steps of the infirmary two days ago, waiting for his boy to wake, and he had meant it.

Even the whispers behind his back and wary glances the townspeople threw at his direction didn’t bother him. Carl had woken up. Amanda was coming back to live with him, and there were no secrets between them anymore. The only thing Rick needed to do now was find those animals and put them down. Then he was going to make sure his family was safe, secure, and well-fed like he always did. There was still so much to do. What Amanda had said was going to create a lot of problems in winter, but Rick didn’t care about it at the moment. They were going to cross over that bridge when they got to it. Together.

As if sensing his thought, Amanda suddenly stopped before they went inside, but still holding his hand. “Carter found me today—” she started. “He said we owe them an explanation.”

Rick raised an eyebrow. “For what we did—” she elaborated, even though she didn’t need to.

“I don’t owe anything to anyone,” he replied evenly. Especially for saving his son’s life.

“We did what we had to do, Rick, I know that. But if we behave like our decisions are unquestionable, if we’re not accountable for them, we behave like tyrants.” She stopped, and pulling her hand free from his gentle clutch, she waved it between them. “We’re not like that. That’s Dawn. Not me. Not you.”

Bowing his head, Rick pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. “I didn’t say I’m not accountable for my actions, Amanda.” He lifted his head. “I’m always prepared to face the consequences of everything I did. I meant if they want to hear an apology for trying to save my son, they won’t hear it.”

“I know,” she repeated, swaying her head into a little nod. “But respect is a two-way street like trust. If we don’t respect them, they won’t respect us. Carter said they deserved an explanation, and they do. That’s also accountability.”

“A’right—” Rick accepted then, tiredness finding him worse. There was even a part of him that just wanted to step down again, let them be the ones who called the shots, let them shoulder that responsibility, and not to be accountable for any damn thing.

That part wanted to go back to his field again, grow his crops, feed his pigs, just be with his family. The only thing he wanted was his family. He had almost lost his boy and Amanda again. When that gun had turned on them, Rick had felt he lost his mind. When the gun fired, for several heartbeats, Rick had lost it.

He didn’t want to do this. He wanted to…finish. Just hang his gun on the wall and be with his family.

His wishes…

There’s no going back, he passed in his mind before he continued, swallowing down his wishes. “Tell him we talk after everything is settled. We don’t have time for it right now.”

Her expression lightened up with a small graceful smile as she nodded. “Um, I already did it.” Rick raised an eyebrow. She shyly shrugged her shoulder, looking away, but they both knew what it meant.

She knew she could have managed to talk through him, so she had already agreed to it. Rick wanted to take her in his arms then, crush her against his chest tightly, kissing her until there was no breath left in his lungs. God! He really couldn’t wait to take her again, coming undone together their bodies tangled to each other. It had been more than two weeks since their last time, since the time Rick had come inside her.

A thought appeared out of the blue in his mind. Had she bled? Amanda had never mentioned it, and they hadn’t had sex again after everything happened. If the pills had worked, she must have bled by now.

His gaze flicked at her. Amanda would tell him if she had, right? Asking her directly came to the tip of his tongue but that was another can of worms Rick wasn’t sure if they were ready to open. She hadn’t packed until Rick invited her…formally and Amanda hadn’t talked anything about what happened in the woods. That shot, that shot wasn’t meant for Carl, but it was for Rick. The crazy woman wanted to kill Rick to make Amanda suffer, to take what she loved the most in the world.

Him. The way she had screamed at him not to leave her surrounded by the walkers came to him again, the desperate, frightened words that had stopped his craze. If Amanda hadn’t done it, hadn’t come after him, Rick still shuddered to think what would have happened.

Stopping his thoughts, Rick shook his head inwardly. No. It had finished now. They were going to start over. It was never too late to start again. He held the screen door’s handle to go inside, but Amanda’s hand stopped him again. “Uh, there’s something else—” Rick stilled. “About Carl.”

“What happened?” Rick asked, feeling a frown deepening the lines between his eyebrows.

“Clarice came to see him this morning after you left,” Amanda quickly spoke. “He didn’t let her see him.” She paused for a second as Rick tensed further. He had wanted to take his son out of the infirmary so he could be with his family and his loved one in private in their home, not in the infirmary.

“I guess it is okay,” Amanda went on. “He possibly needs time, but…” she trailed off. “I don’t know.”

Rick didn’t, either. His jaw throbbed as he gritted his teeth, anger finding him again, the bitter taste of failure and everything else. His son was alive, yes, but half of his face was blown up. He had lost half of his sight, and he was going to carry a nasty, very nasty scar and an empty eye socket for the rest of his life.

He was only fifteen. Fifteen.

It was too much, too fucking much for a boy to live through after everything.

He should have killed that woman as soon as his eyes fell on her. At the moment.

“Rick…” Amanda called out to him softly, but Rick opened the door without a word and walked inside.

Following him wordlessly, they first went to the living room to check on Judy. Rick thanked Maria who took care of the kids in their absence dutifully then they padded up the staircase for Beth’s room. In the corridor, they heard a soft voice singing, and Rick recognized it the moment he heard it.

Beth was singing.

When they came inside, slowly cracking the door open, they found her sitting cross-legged at the foot on the bed, facing Carl as Carl lay down on the pillows, listening to the song. Rick caught up the last strings of the words, “We'll buy beer to shotgun. We'll lay in the lawn, and we'll be good.

Something pierced his chest as Beth stopped, turning over her shoulder and looking at them. “Hey…” she called out to them with a gentle smile. “What’s up?”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Rick saw Amanda’s look as she stared at him, too, the unshed tears glinting in the emerald depths of her gaze, but she pulled herself together quickly, gulping, before greeting them back, “Hey.”

Rick walked over to the bed and sat down beside Carl. He held Carl’s hand gingerly like he had done in the infirmary before Carl woke up. But this time, looking at Rick with his remaining eyes, the rest of his face under thick bandages, Carl declared, “I wanna go to the range.”

“I need to practice on my shooting,” he continued as Rick looked at him. “Learn how to aim with my left eye. When can we go?”

Rick thought to tell him that he had just left the infirmary this morning, that he needed time, that he shouldn’t need to think things right now, that he should give himself time to heal, but looking at his son, he knew those weren’t the right things to say right now.

“We need to talk with Joan,” he said instead, deflecting the question to her professional opinion. “When she says it’s okay, we can start practicing.”

Carl nodded briskly. Rick leaned in and gave his head a little kiss. “We’re gonna pack up Amanda’s stuff from the attic, then come back.”

Carl nodded again, this time looking disinterested. They left the room then, Rick bowing his head, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as soon as Amanda closed the door. Rick let out a tired sigh.

“I’m gonna talk with Denise,” she mouthed lowly as they went downstairs.

Rick nodded silently even though he knew Carl would want to talk to a therapist as much as Amanda had wanted it when Deanna had forced it on her. They left the house then and went up to the other’s house attic. Amanda looked momentarily tense when they climbed in, possibly remembering the last time they were in the room together because Rick was doing it. Her eyes flicked over to the bed, heat rising from her neck before she quickly snapped them away.

Rick decided to overlook it, not wanting to make her feel tenser. Together they quickly started to look around the room for her stuff, Amanda packing up her clothes as Rick collected her board games and puzzles into a box they had found in the garage.

“You like board games?” Rick asked to open an idle conversation to relax her further as he threw plastic pieces inside the box. They weren’t all over the bed like the first time Rick had been here.

The room was different too, much more, much more like her. Instead of as if a tornado had cracked up inside, the little triangular room was clean, tidy, her bedsheets meticulously folded and spread at the foot of the bed, pillows arranged against the headboard. The small round table beside her floor-length window had no clutter on the top, only a vase with fresh flowers inside. Rick had no idea when she had found time to put fresh flowers in it as she had been with him for two nights now, but they were there.

No item around the room seemed out of place, no speck of dust on her sparse furniture or the windowsill outside that opened up to the small landing on the roof.

It made Rick feel a bit better to see the room like this because this was his Amanda, not that bleak, blank mess of tornado. It truly looked like a home, the only missing things were photo frames, and they were going to have them in their home. Their home, with their family photo frames. Rick wanted it, desired it so strongly that he almost caught her and made them fall into the bed.

He wanted to bury himself inside her, make them forget everything for a little while, have this little respite in each other’s arms. He forcefully stopped himself from reaching her, clenching his hands over the Scrabble board as Amanda shrugged, stuffing her shirts in her backpack.

“Not every one of them, but I like puzzles and Scrabble—” She pointed at the game in his hand. “I’ve got a good vocabulary.”

Stepping in on her, Rick gave her cheek a little peck. “My smart girl.”

The teasing words made her blush again, and Rick smiled. She was his girl now. Losing the battle with himself, at least to lie down with her a bit, he held her hand and pulled her toward the bed.

“Let’s have a breather,” Rick told her with a soft smile resting them against the headboard. His movements were still delicate, careful so he wouldn’t hurt her. Amanda tried to play down the extent of her injuries but as soon as Rick had seen them tending her bandages, Rick knew they were worse than she pretended. They weren’t be going to able to have sex for a while until their injuries were healed.

He paused for a second, an idea striking him as he looked at the attic as Amanda settled beside him. “Perhaps we should keep this if we can…” he commented, thinking aloud as his fingertips brushed her shoulder. “So we can have a place to go when we want to stay alone for a bit, take a break.”

Amanda looked up at him, looking puzzled. “Our special place?”

Rick gave her another small smile. “You’re gonna live with Judy 24/7,” he joked. “Believe me when I say this. We’re gonna need a special place.”

She bumped his side—his uninjured side—playfully. “You’re so bad…”

“Just warning ya, babe. Judy’s got a temper, ya know.”

“Hah, wonder from who she got it,” she muttered then stopped, her body casting off to stone as she straightened up, staring at him with widened eyes. “I—I—I didn’t mean it, Rick,” she tried to correct hurriedly, a look of shock and panic over her face. “I didn’t—”

Rick cut her off, shaking his head. “Relax. I know you didn’t mean it. It’s okay.” Amanda tipped her head down, resting back in his arms but Rick took her slip as an unintentional opening for the talk they needed to have now. “But yeah, Shane had a temper.”

Lifting her head at him again, Amanda seemed to accept it because she asked, “How was he?”

Rick thought about it for a second before he found an answer, weighing the words. What was Shane like? “He was…ahead of the curve,” he replied at last with the most honest answer he could find in himself before he went on, “He saw this world, how things were going to be before anyone of us, and it broke him.”

Rick knew Amanda understood what Rick was trying to say. She must have seen it at Grady. When she had told them what had happened with their Captain, Rick had understood they had had to deal with their Shane. Being too quick had become their downfall, making them fragile and unstable when they suffered along the path for years, making mistake after mistake.

“Readjustment takes time,” Amanda remarked slowly just like Rick thought. “A branch would endure a raging storm swaying in the wind, but the hardest trunks snap inside out.”

His face grew serious, and nodding, Rick began talking again. They had to do this now. What he’d started on the platform but couldn’t have finished.

“Amanda, I didn’t want to tell you before because I guess I felt ashamed,” Rick confessed, also realizing it as he talked. “A part of me, still do for what I did, how I did, but it was the man Shane wanted me to be.” A man who would do anything, anything to protect his family. Rick shook his head. “Shane should’ve known that man was always a part of me.”

“I know…” she said.

“And I wanted to tell you that day,” he went on, “because I didn’t want any secret between us anymore.” They were talking so lowly now, Amanda had slid on the bed a bit closer to him. “I told you I kept things from you because I thought if you knew the story, you wouldn’t want me back. I didn’t want to do it anymore, Amanda. I don’t want to hide who I am from you. I want you to accept me, all of me, for being who I am.”

Shaking her head, she opposed the words. “I do, Rick, I always have.”

“No,” Rick lowly declined, his voice straining. “You broke up with me because you think I’m dangerous. A fire you shouldn’t play with. I don’t care what others think of me—” He jerked his head toward the window, “but I can’t bear of you thinking of me like that, looking at me like that.”

As soon as the words left him, Rick remembered the hurt he’d felt when she told him those words, her wary glances, asking him if he would force himself on her, but Amanda shook her head again, this time a little bit more agitated, “Rick, I didn’t—”

“Amanda, please,” Rick clipped. “Don’t try to deny it.”

Straightening up in his arms fully, she looked at him, and let out a sigh. “No, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t ask for a breakup for it, Rick. Not like that.”

“What do you mean?” Rick asked, growing more intense, but a little bit puzzled and suspicious as his eyebrows knitted. “You told me we shouldn’t play with fire.”

After his reminder, her eyes closed for a split second as a sharp noise escaped from her mouth as she bowed her head. She looked odd as she shook her head, and she murmured so lowly, Rick almost missed the words. “You took everything wrong…”

Rick’s eyes narrowed further. Amanda lifted her head and stared back at him. When she spoke, this time her voice was clear. “Rick, I was afraid, but I wasn’t talking about myself then.” She paused for a second. “I was talking about you.”

Me?” he echoed back, his voice having all sort of disbelief now.

Amanda shrugged, running her eyes away. “Yeah. I thought I wasn’t the right woman for you,” she rattled out the words quickly as if she wanted to be done with them as fast as possible.

“I thought our thing was making you worse. Thought I was making you worse. You thrashed the house, hit furniture, broke stuff, just because I asked for a break.” She shook her head, having a small breath before she dashed out the words again. “You’re not like that. Your violent side comes from your desire to protect your loved ones, but you’re a kind man by nature, not a violent one.” She shook her shoulders again. “I just don’t come good to you. So I didn’t want to risk you.”

She had piled on him so much, so fucking much, Rick didn’t even know where to begin to think. Risking him? Not coming good to him? Breaking up with him so he wouldn’t snap? Amanda had always had doubts that made her question their relationship, she had even said a couple of times they were wrong for each other, but this…this was…oh god!

Why did she even think like that?

“Why…why did you think like that?” Rick managed to utter, but her eyes lit with sudden anger.

“Why shouldn’t I?” she snapped. “Don’t play dumb, Rick! We both know I’m not the girlfriend material!” She sent him a glower. “Sometimes I wonder how a girl as smart and attractive as you are could’ve stayed that long without even dating, but really… Remembered it?” As soon as she uttered the words, Rick did. “You told me that!”

Cursing himself, cursing himself to hell and back, he quickly slid toward her on the bed, trying to take her back in his arms. “Amanda—baby—”

She pushed him off, and swirling around herself, she stood up and went to the window.

# # #

Every instinct in her told her just to leave the room as Amanda stood up and stared at the darkening outside, but something—everything—everything that had happened to them since they met kept her anchored beside the floor-length window. She couldn’t leave the room, couldn’t leave him.

But God! How they were going to do this?!

How were they going to have a real relationship? She loved him, she loved him so much that there was no inch left in her to deny it, and yes, she felt she belonged with him, this room, this house had never been her place, she never belonged here, but she still didn’t know how to do it. She hadn’t planned to do it like this. They were just talking, but it hurt her to utter those words again as much as it hurt her when he had told them. Fighting in a relationship also expresses willingness for communication, but not knowing how to do it properly, Deanna’s words echoed in her.

Was it? Did she want to communicate with him now? She supposed she did as she was still waiting in front of the window—Fuck, she then realized, she wasn’t leaving, no, because she was waiting. Waiting for him to join her, come after her.

God burned her soul, Rick did. He came to her side and tentatively put his arms around her waist from behind. Something snapped in herself as badly as when she thought she lost him forever after Beth had shaken her head, and it took great effort not to melt in his arm again.

But her body leaned against his touch an inch on its own, trying to draw the comfort and peace she had so missed during the day. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry, baby,” Rick muttered, leaning towards her even further in response. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me after I woke up from my coma. I would’ve been so worse without you by my side, Amanda. You know that. Everyone knows that.”

She turned her neck to look at him over her shoulder, swallowing down a shaky breath. “I just thought you needed a woman like Beatrice to make you happy. You’re a family man. I’m not like that.”

Of all the things Rick could have said, Amanda heard small laughter from him, mumbling over the sensitive spot just under her ear that made her tremble. “Said the girl the kids don’t leave alone for a sec.”

She trembled and wondered if Rick was trying to distract her now, patting down her feathers because she got worked up. Amanda could say it was also working, although she knew they couldn’t have sex before their injures were healed, but were they even supposed to? They should talk, not have sex.

Thinking of their last time, the way she had begged him not to leave her this time writhing under him flashed over her mind as Rick suddenly asked after the brief silence, “Do you have any idea how much I feared you might want to wash your hands off me and start looking for the greener pastures?”

Now, truly distracted, she twisted toward him fully and asked back, “The greener pastures?”

Rick pulled back and rested against the window’s frame, linking his arms gingerly across his chest with a sigh. “You don’t have any idea how much sleep I missed fearing you would choose Aiden over me…”

“What?” she sputtered out, truly startled. “Why?”

“Well, he was a handsome single thirty years old man, and look at me, please. A forty years old unstable wreckage with a teenage son and a baby daughter…”

She shook her head, resting herself against the window’s other side. She couldn’t decide if he was being honest or still trying to tone down their moment. It seemed both. But Rick also having fears of losing her, just like her when he had gone to Beatrice’s house for dinner?

The thought sobered her up. She shook her head. “No. No. I’m not buying it, Rick.” She fixed a finger at him. “You went on a date with the most beautiful girl in this town just after we broke up. You might have tried to mine information, but Beatrice still accepted it.” She gave him a cool look. “Carol warned me about it. Told me women would throw themselves at you at the first chance.” She paused for a second before admitting, “And she was right.”

“Well, I may have a certain appeal...”

The heavy moment between them completely diffused after that, and Amanda felt as if they were flirting now, but when his eyes found hers, Amanda saw his eyes had grown intent again. A small pinch knitted her eyebrows. “Y-you’re possibly gonna kick my ass for this,” Rick said, “but I need to tell you. I really don’t want to keep secrets from you.”

Amanda only looked at him silently. “Beatrice…” Rick continued. “I didn’t go to her to learn what she knew about Anderson. You know Beatrice. She’s not as foolish as she pretends. When she understood something was happening, she came clean. Told me everything. Then she asked me to dinner.”

Her lips flattened into a thin line with a grimace. “And you accepted?”

Rick bobbed his head into a little nod, confirming it with a little sigh. “Yeah. I was feeling lonely. I thought you didn’t want me, and Beatrice looked like she didn’t mind my presence…so I said yes.”

 “Did you do it?” she hissed through clenched lips, feeling a coldness seizing her heart. Rick wouldn’t have lied that much, but he had already lied to her a lot… Her eyes started pricking. “Just say it!”

He leaped to close the small distance between them with one stride. “No! Never!” he quickly answered, a heat touching his voice. “The rest, everything else I said was true. I just stayed for an hour and left, then circled the town before I came back and found you on the porch. Baby, I swear. I didn’t even touch her.”

He truly looked frightened now, afraid she wouldn’t believe him, and he looked earnest. Amanda raised her eyes at him. “Why didn’t you tell me then?” she questioned further, wanting to know the full story. “Didn’t want to shoot yourself in the foot again?”

With a sigh, running his hand over his face, Rick nodded, and Amanda felt then, not only knew but felt, too, that he was being open and honest with her as he had never been before. “Yeah. When I saw you like that, when I realized how much I hurt you—” He shook his head, then his gaze found her, and the heat in it took her breath away.

“Had I known it, had I known it would’ve hurt you that much, Amanda, I would've never done it. I felt like an asshole after you told me it took me a few days after our breakup to start dating around. And dating a girl that I don’t feel anything for, just looking for affections from someone else because you don’t want me.” He sighed deeply. “I didn’t know how you would react to it, so I—I lied.”

She shook her head. “You’re as fucked up as me, Rick.”

Rick let out another sigh and turned to look outside. “I’m worse.”

Amanda gave him a look in return, then without a word, she strode back to the bed. In a heartbeat, Rick followed her, lying down with her as she rested on the pillows. She lifted her head and gazed at the stars from the window in the roof. They had faintly started to show up in the dusk. Amanda had always liked this view. She had never felt like she belonged here, but she liked this, lying down in the bed and watching the stars above.

“You’re right,” she spoke quietly, turning her head to him, “This is a good place.”

His eyes on hers, Rick moved in her closer, his head dipping to find her lips, but Amanda shook her head, stopping him.

“I’m sorry, Rick,” she whispered, turning on her side to look at him fully. “I’m sorry I started a fight and made you leave the town like that. I’m sorry for each time I took my anger out on you, told you stuff I didn’t mean to. I love you. I love you so much, but sometimes I feel like I don’t know…how.”

There it was, the missing piece she had never found out, until now. She loved him, but she didn’t know how…how to love him.

Rick’s answer though was firm and absolute. “We’re gonna learn it, Amanda. We will.”

“How?” Amanda asked tears in her eyes. Because she wanted to know. God. She wanted to learn how to do it, how to love him. “Denise wanted me to take the risk because some risks are worth it. Deanna told me love makes life worth living. And they were both right, Rick. When I thought I lost you, I didn’t care about anything at all. I just wanted you back so I could tell you how much I love you. And I love you. I love you so much that sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind. But I still don’t know how to do this…”

“I don’t know it either,” Rick confessed. “If I did, we wouldn’t have been here having this conversation, but we’re gonna figure it out.” Reaching out to her, Rick brushed her hair over her shoulder, his gaze holding hers. “It’s never too late to start anything.”

“We forget everything and start over,” he continued with the same firm but low voice, his face as serious and intent as he made her ram the Lamborghini against the truck. Amanda closed her eyes as he leaned into her further. “Get to know each other—” She heard him whisper before their lips touched each other. “For the first time again.”

His kiss felt like a promise. When they inched away from each other, Rick carefully tucked her against his side, her head lying over his chest, over his heart as Amanda looked above. She could see the stars brighter now on the horizon, another promise as she listened to Rick’s steady breathing.

Their future was out there, full of the unknown. A life they were going to build together.

Amanda felt no fear. In the end, they also said life was a journey, not a destination.

Notes:

So here we are, the end. :) Hope you liked it.

When I started writing this book, I always knew Rick and Amanda would decide to forget everything and start over again, properly getting to know each other like how they were about to before the prison fell, building up a relationship and learning how to love each other as that has been what they've been missing since the beginning. They love each other, but they don't *how* to love each other. They weren't knowing how to be in a relationship for different reasons. This all is a callback to Rick and Lori's relationship too, the way Rick wanted to start over with her after coming back from his coma. This time with Amanda, he's gonna learn how to do it as much as Amanda. I'm very proud to say that they will have a much more stable, open relationship from now on in the next book! You know, the first time they have a fight, she will send him to sleep on the couch this time, hehe :)

I think the setting for the start of the next book, On The Horizon, is ready as I have placed all my characters where I want them to be to continue to tell their stories. I have decided to publish a chapter after this like a preview of the next book too, instead of a trailer of many chapters like I had done with Not Too Far Gone Yet. Watch out for it at the weekend. There's gonna be a time jump of a few weeks and we'll see the beginning of Amanda and Rick's stable relationship, hehe. You might be surprised. ;)

I thank you all for sharing this experience with me for months. Especially your comments kept me very motivated during some hard times last winter as I was stuck at home during Covid. I've always firmly believed happiness is only increased when it's shared so I also hope you will continue to share this experience with me in the next book, too.

Be seeing you :D

Chapter 57: Excerpt for On The Horizon

Notes:

Hello, as promised here is the preview chapter of the next book. :)
Enjoy

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

As Amanda stepped out on the porch, Beth’s words were still buzzing inside her. The sotto voce dry tone, taunting words. It’s not my fault you had your first boyfriend at thirty.

Amanda had heard worse, far, far worse, had been called Ice Queen at her face more than she could count, but it still hurt hearing them just like how much it hurt her when Rick had brought up her past inabilities at her face. When the other people said things like that, it just angered her, an anger she had learned how to suppress, but this was harder, so much harder, cut so much closer.

How Amanda wished Deanna had been here so she could talk with someone. She missed her sessions with Denise, but it was simply out of the question now. Joan and she had grown closer, but her friend had enough problems without Amanda adding up to them. She might talk with Carol, she supposed, but they had never been that close. Carol was sort of Rick’s mentor, not hers. The older woman had stepped in when they broke up, tried to talk to her, tried to nudge her toward Rick again, but it was mostly on Rick’s behalf.

She wasn’t even sure why the words made her hackles rise this badly or why Beth was acting out again. Amanda might behave like a mother hen, but it wasn’t only about that. Knowing each other’s whereabouts wasn’t only a whim that Amanda insisted on but was a necessity. They were trying to build up a normal life, yes, but it didn’t mean they were out of the woods. The dangers were real, still with them. If the town got attacked again, she needed to know where her family was! She wasn’t getting worked up for nothing!

And Beth should know that very well. There was something else in that cutting mocking tone that Amanda used to feel from Carl for Rick. Beth was angry. Amanda couldn’t understand the reason, either, but it reminded her of the times she had gotten mad with her when Amanda used to refuse to take the lead.

Beth had always wanted her to take the responsibility, be in charge, and Amanda was doing it. She wasn’t running away anymore, she wasn’t refusing it, then why the hell Beth was angry with her now? She didn’t understand. She was doing the best she could, was trying to do everything she could so she wouldn’t disappoint anyone ever again.

Sometimes she wanted to tear herself in two so she could be in different places at the same time, but she still tried her best. They were starting over, and Amanda had to do it correctly this time. She wanted to be the right woman for Rick.

She wanted to take care of her family, make them happy. So, she woke up in the morning before everyone did and prepared breakfast. Rick loved it. It was so obvious over the look on his face when he saw her preparing breakfast for them, that earnest, content expression, Amanda could do anything, anything to see him like that. It made her chest swell in a way that she couldn’t express with words, knowing that she was the source of that happiness, that it was her, Amanda who made him happy like that. She was the right woman for Rick Grimes.

She could do anything for that. But she also didn’t want to stop her workout routine with Beth in the morning so she slotted time after breakfast for exercise before she went to Carter for their daily meetings. It was how Carter and they had reached an agreement when they gathered to explain themselves, give the rest of the council the explanation they had demanded. In the end, Carter had become her aide as he had always wanted as they decided that Amanda and he was going to take care of the daily business of the town while Rick was going to take care of the security concerns regarding the town. For the legislation they needed, they also decided to set up meetings aside from the preordained weekly council sessions to create their civil and penal code.

She ran a schedule as busy as Rick. Sometimes they couldn’t even see each other during the day, people always came and went asking for a minute of their time, but they still tried to manage. Sometimes she felt like she passed out from tiredness as Rick held her gingerly in the bed. Even in his arms, though, her sleep was restless. She couldn’t remember her dreams, but felt the tension in her body as she moved in the sheet half-awake, drifting between the land of dreams and full awareness. When her overly exhausted body shut down her brain, it felt like bliss, sleeping soundly in the arms of the man she loved, which also brought up another topic that Amanda wasn’t ready to face yet.

Their injures had made having sex improbable for them but soon they were healing, and she could feel Rick’s growing…interest. First, it was a small nagging in her mind, but as the days passed her former worries started to come more persistent. It wasn’t like that Amanda didn’t want it. She wanted it desperately, each time Rick kissed her she found herself responding eagerly, and it reminded her of the last time they had sex, how she had been.

It wasn’t something Amanda wanted to think about a lot, because whenever she did, she also had to think of the other little nagging fact that she still hadn’t menstruated. She didn’t know if Rick was aware because he still hadn’t brought it up, but Amanda was no fool. It had passed more than a month since Rick had come inside her, and she knew how the morning pills worked. By now she must have already menstruated twice at least, her cycle bouncing off the charts with the hormones she had introduced into her body.

Following a breakdown in the bathroom a week ago and asking Joan if stress would cause such lateness which the nurse had answered she didn’t know, Amanda finally had asked her for the pregnancy test, then well, she hit it inside the bottom drawer of the closet in the bathroom. It was still hidden there as she still couldn’t bring herself to do it. Each morning since that day after washing her face, Amanda looked at her reflection in the mirror, then gazed down at the test on the sink and hid it in the bottom drawer again, telling herself she was going to do it tomorrow.

Most of the women talked about how they would have felt they were pregnant at the start of their pregnancy as their bodies started to change to accommodate and nurture a life inside their wombs. Even Joan must have felt it by a degree, urging her to take the test. Sometimes Amanda tried to listen to her body, but she didn’t feel anything out of ordinary. She wasn’t even sure what she was supposed to feel anyway. There was tension in her, yes, but Amanda had always felt like that. She was an anxious person, always over worrying, overthinking, over-analyzing, but that was how she was. It couldn’t be a byproduct of the pregnancy.

Or was it?

Was she bad-tempered than usual?

Cattier?

Well, Rick must have known it better than anyone, and Amanda was making him happy! They hadn’t even had a single fight since they talked to each other openly in the attic. Nineteen days had passed since that night, and yes, Amanda was counting. The days they had without an accident or a fight. Amanda didn’t have a board like in the prison, but she counted the numbers in her mind as she still counted on Deanna’s board how many people the town had now after the attacks, how many people Rick and she had to protect, proving they would take care of them and keep them alive. Their numbers had dwindled to eighties again after the attacks, but they were still managing.

They had to make it. After everything they had suffered, they had to have this now. There was a part of her that wanted to drop her knees and cry her heart out whenever she thought of Jessie, what had happened to her, but she didn’t let them poison what they had now. She couldn’t. Jessie was a tragedy that Amanda had caused unintentionally, paving the stones to hell inadvertently with her good intentions. She couldn’t think about it anymore. They were starting over. Jessie and everything with the Andersons had to stay in the past where they belonged. She couldn’t let the past ruin her future.

Don’t let your past shadow your future, she heard Dawn’s voice from ages ago in her mind. Amanda hadn’t, right? She always lived on, went on her life. Leave people behind. Sarah, Grady, the prison, Jessie…

She stopped her thoughts, leaning over the porch’s railings on her forearms and looking at the rows of Rick’s seedlings covered with a tarp in their garden. The seeds they had found and sowed were budding, coming to life. Life goes on. When the screen door behind her opened, Amanda turned and looked over her shoulder and saw Beth. She had been dawdling around the house waiting for her, to see if she was going to come out, and a smile lifted her lips as the teenager did. Despite their fight, Beth still wanted to join her for their morning jog.

The teenager pulled the zipper of her sweatshirt over her neck, gazing at her as Amanda left the porch. Beth followed her example when she started warming up, but when Amanda looked at her blue eyes, she saw the girl still upset.

“I didn’t want to open it up beside Rick—” Beth told her flatly, jumping on her toes. “But when will you stop this?”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, doing the same exercise. “Stop what?”

Beth groaned. “God! Stop, Amanda, okay, stop. I’m not as clueless as Rick pretends to be!”

Amanda stopped her movements, her eyes becoming a slit. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you!” Beth fired agitatedly, waving her hand at Amanda. “Look at yourself…”

Not liking where the conversation going, she looked Beth in the eye. “What about me?”

“You’re not acting like yourself again—” Beth defended. “You act like a Stepford wife! A PTA mom! That’s not you!”

“Why?” she shot back, her anger flaring suddenly, but not because of the derogatory, belittling terms that Beth had just accused of her being, but because she thought she couldn’t be like that. “Why that’s not me, exactly? Why can’t I be like that, Beth?” she lined up the questions rapidly. Something was lashing out of her again in turmoil. Was it so bad that she wanted to take care of her family? Why Amanda couldn’t just be a housewife? Was it a crime?

A hesitation came to her blue eyes as Beth shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

Amanda cut her off, “Yeah? How did you mean it then? Why can’t I sit in the house and let Rick take care of me? It’s not what half of the women used to do? It wasn’t what your mother or Rick’s wife used to do?” she pressed further, throwing her words back at her. “Why can’t I do it?”

“Do you want it?”

“I’m not asking that. I’m asking why you think it’s not me!” Her hand vaguely waved at the house as she spat the word. Amanda was sick of that, was sick of seeing that look, sick of hearing those words, sick of being called Ice Queen. If she stayed like how she had always been then why hell they were starting over, dammit!

“Look, you’re trying to pick a fight,” Beth muttered.

“Me? I’m picking a fight?” She shook her head. “C’mon Beth. You always find a reason to snap at me no matter what I do! You didn’t even ask if Dylan would come with us but just told me you couldn’t come!”

“You said it’s a family dinner!”

“And you want to stay with him overnight!” she encountered, then paused, giving the teenage girl a look. “You know what? I demand he comes, too. If he wants to date you for real, then he needs to have our official approval.”

Her eyes widening, Beth gave her an incredulous look. “You’re out of your mind.”

As she turned around without a look at the teenage girl, Amanda only shot back, “Make sure you’re both at the lounge room at six PM!”

Jolting energy washed over her as she strode toward Carter’s house, skipping her workout this morning. Although she couldn’t understand the reason for it, she sensed a distinct sense of pride. Amanda knew what she felt, but it didn’t make any sense. Why the hell she was feeling prideful? Because she demanded to see Beth’s boyfriend in an official dinner or because she was making pancakes and oatmeal for her family each morning or because she was sleeping with Rick in the same room for days and they hadn’t even had a single fight? The questions were like a whirlwind in her, but Amanda silenced them all and just enjoyed her good feelings.

It was good to feel like this, so she just was going to enjoy it. A soft smile spread over her lips as she willfully walked to her aide’s home. This was her choice too, not a necessity anymore. She didn’t need to do this. She would just go to Rick and tell her she didn’t want to take care of any shit anymore, tell him she just wanted to take care of her family, that she wanted him to take care of her, and voila! Amanda would be free of any expectations, free of any responsibilities, decisions that kept her awake at night. The only thing she would need to worry about then would be what to cook today and how to clean the bloodstains from Rick’s shirts.

The thought almost made her giggle as she stepped on Carter’s porch.

It didn’t sound such a bad idea as she imagined herself back in the kitchen, taking care of Judy and the kids instead of leaving them with Maria. She gulped as she thought if that was really what she wanted, but when Carter opened the door, her erratic thoughts and feelings cut off after seeing the tall man’s expression.

“What happened?” Amanda asked immediately, her face losing her soft smile too.

“I was just coming to see you—” Carter answered, leaving the doorway. Amanda could hear sounds from inside as Tobin and Carter had invited Spencer and Reg to live with them after their house had burned in the explosion. Amanda supposed it was better this way as there would be too many memories for them from Deanna and Aiden in the house. Amanda couldn’t even spare a glance at the half-demolished house for longer than a few seconds before her eyes started hurting.

The last Monroe men or Amanda weren’t the only people who had transferred to the new houses since the attack like how Amanda had talked with Denise after they had brought in Anne’s people. The Johnsons had moved into Aaron and Eric’s house, Lauren and another two single women had gone to live with Denise, emptying their houses.

“One of the solar panels broke last night, the one with the deep split in the middle—” Carter elaborated, sounding tired. “Eugene just found out. There was a strong wind. It probably caused it.”

“It’s gone for good?” Amanda questioned. “Beyond repair?”

Carter gave her a curt nod, affirmative.

Amanda cursed under her breath. One solar panel less. She knew what that meant. More restrictions. “We need to save more energy, keep the heating system turned off longer,” she remarked evenly. “Two hours less before the evening and two hours later in the morning.”

Her order was going to create more drama between the townspeople and more upset looks at Anne’s people, but Amanda didn’t know what else to do.

When supplies grew thinner, more questions arose. Even Amanda had started to question her decision to bring them in. It was much so much easier to feel the sharing buzz when you had enough to share. Anne and her people had gone out with them to deal with the herd, but when the chips were down, when the townspeople came out to save Alexandria, Anne and her people had stayed in. Amanda hadn’t forgotten that. Neither Alexandrians.

“We call in a meeting and discuss that supply run to Washington—” Carter replied.

Amanda held back a sigh. “Rick still thinks it’s too risky and I agree with him.”

They were running the town, but the supply runs were in the…jurisdiction of Rick as they were concerning the town’s safety. No supply run or recruiting was going to be done without his approval. Rick had banned all the outgoings from the town unless it was the patrol or watch guard duty outside, only allowing a few runs for supplies that he had deemed as necessities like seeds. Even then it had taken ten days to convince him to go the nursery Heath knew in far north but going over D.C?

Amanda didn’t know. They needed to arrange a big supply run before winter fully arrived, Amanda knew they were going to need to, it had just become palpable this morning. They needed more supplies to survive the winter with their numbers but going to an uncharted territory like D.C, she just didn’t know. Amanda had accepted Abraham’s offer, but it felt like a different lifetime now. She couldn’t endanger herself anymore like that leaving her family.

But there was also a thought that had taken secretly resident in her heart, a thought so improbable she couldn’t have mentioned it to anyone, even to Rick. It crossed her mind the first time when Rick took a picture of them outside the porch with the camera and put it in a frame after printing it and seeing the photo frame made her remember Carl’s words after Nicholas’s death.

Amanda had felt incredible guilt after then, even almost asked Rick not to do it, not to put it beside the other two he had taken earlier, but she couldn’t have made the words out. They looked so happy in the photo Amanda couldn’t open her mouth. It all made her feel worse, imagining how Carl would feel seeing them like that, while not having a single photo of his mother’s.

Then in a whirl, Amanda remembered Beth’s mumblings, telling her how Michonne had walked in the middle of the walkers and retrieved his mother’s photo for him and Judy, and what was Amanda doing? Replacing them with her own.

It was how she had her breakdown in the bathroom. She had felt so terrible, so terrible that she needed to bolt to the bathroom and plaster her face on the towels to silence herself as she cried loudly before she swept down on the tiles and let herself go completely. She wasn’t even sure what was happening to her, why she was feeling like this, but she couldn’t stop it.

The incredulous thought came to her just like that as she lay down on the cold tiles helplessly, almost passed out from crying.

She had to do it. Whatever another woman did for Carl and Judith, Amanda could do tenfold! She had to. They were her family. She had to take care of them. She had to make sure they were happy as much as they were safe. They could go back to the prison and retrieve them. It wasn’t as nutty as it sounded. They had learned the roads between the prison and Alexandria damn well when they were out on the road. It was a way less perilous than going to an unknown territory without any proper scouting. Whenever they went up north, they always found problems, but they had managed to come until here from the west. They could do it again. Cleaning the prison wouldn’t be a picnic, but they had managed far worse odds.

Besides when there were no living people around, the rotters didn’t stay in a place long unless they were trapped. Hunger made them immigrate. The prison’s fences were done for good, ran down by a tank before they had escaped. Perhaps the compound was even deserted by now.

Their supplies might have been raided if that was the case, but it was worth a try. Their pantry was under lock and keys and the keys were still with them. Nevertheless, although the prison had been raided in their absence, who would have taken some photos?

Carl’s photo, Dr. Hershel’s bible, Beth’s bracelets, Maggie’s snapshots, they all still had to be there. For the supplies, well, they could even go check the funeral home, hell, they could even go and check the city. Amanda knew Atlanta like the back of her hand, the city was her turf. They weren’t gone that long…and she swore it all had sounded so much more logical while she was sprawled out on the cold tiles, quasi passed out.

When common sense and logic returned, she stood up from the floor, trembling from the cold or her breakdown. While she looked at her reflection in the mirror after washing her face, she realized she needed a damn pregnancy test. She asked one from Joan then and stuffed it in the bottom drawer of the bathroom’s closet and had been trying to use the test each morning since then.

Carter shrugged his shoulder. “Well, we need to find supplies soon or we’re gonna have an unrest in our hands,” the man advised, giving her a look. “You brought them here, Amanda, basically told us to suck it up. This’s on you.”

Amanda understood in times like these why Deanna hadn’t wanted the man beside her. She shook her head, and muttered, “I’m working on it—” she bit off. “Don’t worry.”

She was. She was working on it. She was going to find something. Soon.

Maybe they really had to go back to the prison, maybe it wasn’t as crazy as it sounded. Come to think of it, she should start making a pro/con list and a proper risk analysis. Didn’t always Rick claim it was necessary whenever they wanted to do something insane, something out of proportion? They had blown up dynamites in the middle of this town, lit the pond with fire, ran down the wall when they needed to bring back Carl. They had a specialty to do insane things.

God, she needed to work on her case a bit more if she wanted them to get on the board with it. Did she? Did she want them to get on the board with it? Did she want to go back to the prison?

The answer blossomed in her heart with such clarity, Amanda halted her steps as she descended Carter’s porch. She wanted to do it. She truly wanted to do it. Find Lori’s photo for Carl and Judy. Without a doubt, Amanda knew that she would never let it go if she didn’t try to do anything. There was still a part of her that told her she was being ridiculous, that she hadn’t done anything to feel guilt over, hell, she hadn’t even known Rick when their mother was still alive, but Amanda knew herself. There were so many ghosts between them, ghosts that Amanda couldn’t still manage to talk about, but she didn’t want Rick’s late wife to be one of them.

No. They were starting over, but Amanda had to do this for Carl and Judy.

It wasn’t nuts. Rick could understand. She padded to the lounge room then to work on how to cut the provisions to last longer, detailing a work plan for the fields as she wished to have her own study to do some work without interruption as people came up to see her like every second. There was a childish part of her that wondered if it was like this for Deanna too or it was just for her. Deanna used to make the older woman’s summons or appointments and Deanna seldom used to see anyone without being addressed first. For Amanda, it was like they were coming up to see her whenever they thought of something, and it had started tiring her a lot.

Denise had offered her study room where she had started having her appointments, but it didn’t sit well with her. Amanda had gone a couple of times, but she felt like a stranger and the woman’s house with the new additional numbers was as lively as their own.

Amanda had stayed at home then for a couple of times and learned working at home while there were a baby, a kid, and a depressed teenager who usually hang out in the house wasn’t easy. At the end of the first hour, she had left the living room and gone upstairs, and before noon came, she had left the house to go back to the community center.

Rick had mentioned a couple of times they needed to establish another governmental building, stopping using the lounge room but so far Amanda didn’t know where could be used for this purpose. Deanna’s house could be repaired, the real damage was only in the porch and a part of the living room’s front side, and they had an ample supply of timber outside. Though Amanda wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. There were so many memories for her too in that house to replace.

She was pondering to find Spencer and check on him to see how he was doing when she suddenly noticed a tall shadow above her and lifted her head. She tried to hold back her frown when she saw Anne looking down at her, trying to keep her expression placid behind a cool professionalism mask.

“Yes?” she inquired, sounding a bit irritated despite the mask of professionalism.

“I heard one of the solar panels broke last night—” Anne remarked, and Amanda raised her eyebrow. “Soon they’re going to do a supply run.”

Her eyebrow lost behind her hairline. “That’s the council business,” she clipped. “Don’t worry yourself over it.” She paused a little, handing her the timetable she had prepared for her people to work in the gardens or on the repairs. “This is the shift plan for the field workers for the next week.”

The woman didn’t take it. “Rick would want us to come with him again when he goes out—” she instead replied. “I need to represent my people in the council meetings.”

“You’re still on probation time—” she explained again with a flat voice. “We’re gonna talk about it after your time is done.”

The woman just couldn’t understand this was how things were done in Alexandria. Despite her feelings, despite her doubts, Amanda had still tried to explain a couple of times. They were still here, so she was working through it, but she had had enough. “And this is the last time I’m having this conversation, Anne,” she spoke the words dismissively, bowing her head to her charts again.

“No—” she heard the woman say, “You need to let us—”

Her temper flaring again, her hand hit the table, making the whole lounge room look at her as she got up from her chair. “I don’t need to do anything!”

She didn’t. Amanda Shepherd didn’t need to do anything anymore, and she wanted the woman to understand that perfectly. “This’s what we offer and if you don’t want it, you can leave!” she rasped out coldly, straightening up. “The door is there. No one is stopping you.”

 Her words were arrogant, but Amanda didn’t care. She wasn’t going to take this shit any longer, questioning Rick or her leadership or their decisions. If she thought she could do better, she could go and try her chances out there. Good riddance!

And Amanda would have expected the woman could see how serious she was, but Anne only gave her a smirk, looking unaffected, untouched by her tirade. “You can’t get rid of us that easily, Amanda,” she replied. “And you’re not the queen of this town because you’re with Rick.”

To logical answer for that would be to remind her that she was chosen as the head of the council, but suddenly Amanda didn’t want to do that. She was Rick’s queen, and she wanted the woman to know it. As arrogant and petty as it sounded, she wanted everyone to know how much Rick loved her, how deeply he cared for her. She wanted to shout it out at the whole world! It was deep in her, under countless layers of murkiness that she had piled upon her heart with every instant she had felt unwanted, undesired, unwelcomed in her life, and it was bursting out of her chest how the seeds they had sowed in their garden bursting out of the earth to life.

“I don’t know if I’m the queen of this town, Anne—” she spoke calmly, tilting up her chin and looking at the woman straight in the eye. “But I am Rick’s queen. I wouldn’t forget where I sleep if I were you.”

Anne’s smirk dropped, looking back at her. “Is this a threat or warning?”

“Take it whatever way you want—” Amanda answered, not backing down.

“Such a pity—” the woman replied placidly. “I’ve always thought we can find a common ground—” Her open look turned to leery suddenly as she eyed Amanda unabashedly, her smirk returning to her lips. “You know I’ve always found you sexier than him.”

 The fight stayed with her for the rest of the day. She felt like she had started something after Anne looked at her as if she was accepting a challenge, but Amanda had no idea what. The woman’s last words were equally speculative and provocative.

She saw Rick working in their garden after midday returning from outside. She was going to talk to him tonight. He possibly had already heard about the solar panels, so he knew they needed to decide what they had to do. Damn. She thought she would breach up to him to learn how he would feel for a mission back to the prison, but the damn woman turned everything in her upside down.

Deciding to cool off a bit, she decided to work with him in the garden for a while. It was the most peaceful moments they had, working in their field side by side, sometimes even sharing an iPod, listening to his godawful country music, but even then, Amanda didn’t complain. It was nice, them working like that quietly, Rick teaching her stuff about planting. He had shown her four different ways to air the soil, each way for a different purpose. Amanda had no idea there would have been so many different ways just to dig the soil.

Her head in thoughts before the sun break, she slowly waded through the muddy driveway toward their second house’s garage to pick up gardening tools, trying not to think how they used to utilize the space months ago. Again, it felt like a lifetime ago, another life in which Amanda had done everything she could have to keep their relationship secret and sex-based, turning everything into a mess.

Now, she was showing off, boasting to people yammering she was Rick’s queen. What the fuck was happening to her? She froze her hand on the handle of the garage door as the thought struck her. Was she acting like this because of raging hormones? Because she was…pregnant?

She walked into the empty garage, and stopped dead in the doorway once more, cast off to stone because the garage wasn’t empty at all.

No. It was far from being empty.

There were a couple inside that were utilizing the garage how she and Rick used to, and Amanda would recognize that red hair, army haircut, and muscled massive back from everywhere and now she was getting way too habituated with the rest of Abraham’s body, too, a way more habituated—and holy shit!

Noticing someone had walked—why the hell the door wasn’t locked anyway! Her breath stopped short as Abraham twisted aside and Amanda saw the woman wasn’t Rosita at all.  Tall and lean, she had creamy skin as pale as Rosita, but instead of Rosita’s straight raven hair, she had ginger red curls that fell over her back like a cascade. Damn!

It was Lauren!

The single mom that Rick had made her cry when they arrived in the town because he had wanted to pluck her flower garden. Abraham was having sex with the woman in their garage, and Amanda was so shocked that she couldn’t move a limp.

“Amanda!” Abraham roughed out at her heatedly which finally made her regain her motor functions.

“I’m sorry!” she blurted out. “Fuck!” she quickly stepped back and closed the door.

What the fuck!

Abraham and Lauren were having an affair?

Since when?

When the hell did this happen? How? She had seen Abraham helping the woman a couple of times, but Amanda had always written it off as Abraham’s helpful machoism. How long it had been going on? How had it started?

Did Rosita know?

God, Amanda had always felt like they had a thing with Eugene, sharing the same room before Abraham had kicked him out after learning he had been lying to him, so perhaps they had an open relationship. But then why the hell they were screwing in the garage? They couldn’t do it for the kinks, right?

Perhaps they were just looking for thrills, even leaving the door unlocked. God! What was she supposed to do? She should keep her mouth shut or tell Rosita? Rosita was a friend, sort of. If she was betrayed, it was Amanda’s duty to wake her up, right?

God, why people were doing this? Cheat on each other?

Was it that hard to be truthful? Well, Amanda had never been open and honest much, but she had never cheated. She wished she could have rewound time and stopped herself going to the garage so that she had never learned it.

When she returned to their house after walking around the house like a fool for a while, she found the garden empty. Rick had already gone inside. Dutifully, she followed his example, walking inside thoughtfully.

The rest of their household hadn’t still returned from their duties, but she could hear Carl upstairs. When she quickly checked the living room, she found out Maria had left as Rick was sprawled out over the couch, one leg dangling over the edge on the floor, his neck craned up from the armrest to find out who came after hearing the door outside closed. He looked tired too, as tired as Amanda felt, and suddenly feeling the incredible need to be in his arms, she walked to him.

Rick watched her with an unclear expression as she did, and Amanda wondered if he had caught Abraham and Lauren too in the garage. Amanda hadn’t seen him going back to the garage to leave his tools like they usually did, but perhaps he had done before. As she stood over the armrest of the couch trying to decipher what he knew, she saw him looking at her intently in the gloomy interiors. There were going to lit up candles soon, no electricity anymore, but it was still too early for that. The living room was warmer than outside, but soon that was going to be a good memory too. With a sigh, she nudged his leg on the floor at his knee with the tip of hers, her eyes downcast at his feet in socks. Good. He had taken his muddy boots out in the mudroom.

“Scoot—” she ordered in a low voice; her eyes upraised at him back.

His gaze not wavering from hers, Rick did, twisting on his uninjured side, he backed toward the couch’s back to make room for her.

Amanda wondered what happened for a split second, why she was receiving these intense looks now because Abraham and Lauren’s secret affair wouldn’t be the case of it. But when she slid in quickly and Rick enclosed his arms around her, all questions left her. She was where she belonged. Nothing outside happened mattered when she was in her safe haven. She wriggled to find herself a comfortable position before she reached out to take the baby monitor that Rick had left on the coffee table. Soon the others would be coming back, but Amanda wanted to enjoy the moment until they did.

“Bad day?” she asked as she leaned back against his chest after taking the monitor, rolling her eyes up at him, tilting her head backward.

Rick looped his head into a half nod, dipping his head to kiss the crook of her neck. “Yeah…” he replied lowly. “Talked a lot of people.”

“Me too—” Amanda mumbled, lifting the monitor, tucking her feet between his but as soon as her eyes caught the baby monitor’s screen, she craned her neck up toward him again. “Hey, who gave Judith her sucking teat?” she asked with a deep sigh. “I’ve just hidden it this morning.”

Finding a dentist would be a miracle, and Amanda didn’t want her honey bunny to have bad teeth. Rick made a low sound between a snort, taking the monitor from her and leaving it on the coffee table again. “Carl.”

“Ah.” Amanda let out another sigh. “Well then, I’m gonna hide it better tomorrow.”

“I think it’s a fight you can’t win, baby. Carl has a specialty to find out stuff.”

She giggled quietly. “You are so mean, Rick…so mean.”

He echoed back her low sound in a chuckle and twisting in his arms fully to face him properly, Amanda lifted her head for a kiss, but Rick didn’t kiss her.

Instead, he was looking at her with that intense look, before he brushed her hair over her shoulder, her loose hair. She left it open these days because she knew Rick liked playing with it. “How was your day?” Rick asked her, twirling her lock around his finger idly.

Amanda shrugged. “Long. I-I just walked in Abraham and Lauren in the garage.”

Rick’s expression froze as his fingers through her hair. “Abraham and Lauren?”

Amanda nodded. “Yeah. The woman you made cry…” she elaborated.

“Walked in?” Rick whispered.

“Yeah, you know, in the middle of the action. A slot goes into B.” She expelled a deep sigh again. “Do you think Rosita knows it?”

Rick shrugged this time. “I don’t know.” He paused. “We talk about it tomorrow night, okay?” he asked. “When we go to the attic.”

They were in the living room, and people might come in any moment. It wasn’t the best place to have this talk, so Amanda nodded, straightening up from her warm nest. “I better go do laundry before supper. You got your shirt bloodied yesterday again—” she frauded chiding, shooting at him a look over her shoulder but Rick stopped her, pulling her back and tightening his arms over her.

“Nah, stay. Shouldn’t tire my…queen,” he whispered to her ear as Amanda stilled, her heart suddenly thudding in her throat.

God!

Panicked, she stared at him, her neck still craned aside. Rick was looking at her again with that intent look.

Amanda was going to kill that bitch!

She was going to rip her apart!

She had talked to Rick! She had gone to Rick and sung what they had talked about!

God! What the hell she had started!

She was still staring at Rick at a loss as he kept staring at her intently, then the door blew out, and sounds started drifting inside from outside. She heard Carol and Joan, and Glenn at their heels. There was another female voice she couldn’t decipher first, not until she heard the chirping energetic voice of Beatrice.

Amanda quickly straightened up from the couch at the same time Rick did as the others walked into the living room, Beatrice holding a casserole dish in her hand. “I had an off time today!” the younger woman breezed in. “Tried a new dish.”

“Maria and Clarice are coming up?” Amanda asked as she couldn’t be sure if the dinner offer was a way to spend more time with her little crush everyone except Glenn seemed to be aware of, or it was for her sister’s sake as the things between Carl and Clarice were still bumpy even though Carl had at least let her see him. After two weeks!

Grimes men! Always making ladies wait on…her eyes cut over to Rick, and she saw him still looking at her intently ignoring the rest of the room.

Feeling the heat rising to her cheeks, Amanda almost lunged at the dish in Beatrice’s hands. “I take this—” she mumbled before she made her way out from the room.

“Hey, what happened between you?” Carol asked, following her with Joan, coming back from the infirmary together.

“Oh—” Joan breathed out. “Have we busted you?” the former nurse asked with a snicker, throwing a glance at Carol. “I took off her bandages yesterday.”

“No!” Amanda blurted out. “No! We weren’t fooling around!”

Clarice and Maria came in after a few minutes, and to her utmost shock, she heard Daryl’s rough drawl from the corridor a few seconds later. Joan and Daryl stayed away from each other like plague usually now, so Joan’s expression froze as soon as they heard the drawl.

“What the hell he’s doing here?” she hissed, but her eyes were on Carol as if she knew anyone else wouldn’t dare to cross her with this.

Joan usually reacted to Daryl now like when a Gremlin touched water did, and for a second or so, Amanda was scared of a blow-up, but Carol gave her a stern look.

“Because I forced him to come. This’s a family dinner, and Daryl is a part of this family as much as you are—” she talked down the woman. “Don’t make a scene.”

The supper turned out a weird event then under the romantic candlelight as Joan sent glowers across the table at Daryl who did his best to ignore them, and Rick kept looking at her with that same keen look that made her feel like she was under a silent interrogation.

 She became so upset with it, she almost barked at him to stop doing it while eating the dessert Maria had also brought. When the dinner finished, they settled around the sitting groups, but Amanda opted to sit down on the blanket with Judy as Beth brought up Monopoly and Scrabble. She asked what they preferred but Rick stood up, shaking his head.

“No. We’re tired tonight. We’re going upstairs.” He bent down to pick up Judy as the baby jumped in his arm willingly, Rick sending at her another pointed look which made Amanda stand up too holding back a sigh.

“Night—” she called everyone while Rick took her hand with his free one, but she pulled it back, sending back at him a pointed look too. “That wasn’t nice at all, Rick!” she fumed in a whisper before quickening her steps in the staircase and walking in the master bedroom before he did.

Rick followed her, his swagger having a nonchalant way as he shut the door behind them. “Well, you have to excuse me then. I thought my queen was tired.”

She let out a sigh, shaking her head. “I’m gonna kill her.”

Rick merely looked at her again.

“We shouldn’t do this in front of Judy,” she replied before instructing him. “Put her into sleep.”

Rick nodded as Amanda went to the bathroom. She wanted to pull herself back together for a bit, regain her coolness. What had happened, happened. So yeah, Rick knew what she had said. The talk had gone out of control, and she had carried away a bit, calling herself his queen, yeah, but she was also sure Anne had twisted the facts in her favor.

Amanda could explain, tell him how the damn woman had laid a trap for her, then went back to Rick and told him everything. The bitch! Making them fight because of her. Well, they would see. She hopped in the shower, swearing she wasn’t going to let the woman come in between them. She quickly put on her bathrobe, wrapped her hair around in a towel, and left the bathroom.

When she walked out, she found Rick at the foot of the crib, watching Judy sleeping. They were lucky that Judith went back to sleep just after a few hours she had woken up before supper, but it also meant she was going to be up too early.

Amanda sighed wearily as Judy snored, lying on her back. Amanda bent down and stroked her tummy. “She’s gonna wake up early—” she mumbled.

Rick nodded in affirmative. “I know, but I wanna talk.”

“Yeah…” she muttered, turning away from her, and bending down she unwrapped her hair and dried it with her towel.

Rick walked to the bed and sat down on it. “So what happened?”

Amanda straightened up, looking at him straight in the eye just as he was doing, her right hand holding her wet towel. She walked over to the round table beside their closet and tossed the towel over it before turning to him. “Are you asking or questioning?” she asked openly. There was still that inquisitive, searching glint in his eyes that made her feel ill at ease, but Rick answered quickly:

“Asking.”

“She came to bug me about the council,” Amanda replied then honestly. “And I told her what I’ve been telling her since the beginning. That it’s how we do things around here and if she’s not happy with it, the door is there. And I mean it, Rick!” she flared, her ire finding her again. “I’m fed up with her shit! I wanted to help them in the woods because I felt responsible, but I am getting tired of this!”

Rick shook his head, stood up, and walked toward her. “And you know now how I feel—”

Amanda let out another sigh as he stopped in front of her beside the table. “I didn’t mean it….” She paused, then admitted after a second. “Well, I did mean it. But I swear I didn’t—” She stopped again, shaking her wet hair as exasperation came to her, her ire flaring again. “She tried to mock me! Told me I’m not the queen of this town because we’re together!”

His blue eyes were inquisitive again as he looked at her. “And you told her back you are my queen?”

Her cheeks reddening, Amanda shrugged. “I know it was childish, Rick, but—” She shook her head, feeling the same frustration. “She’s driving me nuts!”

 “Was it the only reason?” he inquired further. “You were pretty much worked up with Beth this morning, too.”

“She’s driving me crazy too—” she mumbled, then paused to shoot him a hesitant glance. “By the way, I—uh—demanded this morning Dylan to come to our dinner so he can have our official approval to date her.”

Rick gave her a narrowed look. “You did what?”

She shrugged again, taking the back towel again to dry her hair. “You heard me. If Maggie had been here, she would’ve done the same.”

“When did this happen?”

“This morning. After we left the house.”

“Let me guess,” Rick muttered. “You had another fight?”

Amanda gave him a nasty look. They stayed silent for a while, then Amanda asked, “Are you mad at me?”

“For what?”

“For telling her I’m your queen?”

A smile lifted his lips as he took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I would never get mad for hearing that. You are my queen.” He paused for a beat. “Queen of my heart.”

She half rolled her eyes. “And for showing them the door?”

He shook his head. “Well, I did that myself too once. I know the feeling.”

Amanda lifted her eyebrow at the words. “You showed people the door?”

“Yeah…” Rick muttered, “It was after we lost the farm, after I killed Shane. I was having a field day, cracked up. Even told them if they stayed, it wasn’t a democracy anymore.” He shook his head, his eyes turning distant as if he went back to the memory and Amanda waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. When he looked back at her, his eyes were as keen as before, with no trace of nostalgia in them. “But in any case, I think it’s too late for us to do that now. We can send them as peacefully as Deanna could have sent us away if she tried.”

“Do you think they would try something?”

“I know they will fight back if we try—” Rick replied. “They might even try something even if we don’t. Anne isn’t a fool. She didn’t provoke you today without a reason. She wanted to see how we would react.”

She frowned but admitted it because it was the truth. The woman had wanted to test her, and Amanda just had fallen into her trap. “Yeah, I know,” she grumbled. “She wanted to test me.”

Rick smirked at her. “Don’t worry. She’s gonna see you’ve got the bite.”

She paused for a second, raising her eyebrow. “You talk like you’ve got a plan,” she mediated in a question, but taking her hand and making her sit on the armchair beside the table, Rick jerked his head.

“Forget about her, we’ll deal with it later,” he replied. “It isn’t what I wanted to talk with you.” He paused to look at her with those intent, keen eyes again before he declared, “I think it’s time we make that test you hid in the bathroom’s bottom drawer.”

Her eyes widening, Amanda stared at him shocked.

Notes:

*Runs and hides in a corner*

Is Amanda pregnant, having crazy raging hormones or is she having PTSD again?
Will they go back to the prison, because Amanda starts to feel obliged toward Carl and Judy to do it as she also tries to be what she thinks is the right woman for Rick?

I won't deny that I WAS dying to start writing these parts. I can just imagine Amanda acting like this, trying to sculpt herself for Rick and his children, trying to prove to them she can be like that, developing what I call 'Lori syndrome'. Hehe. This's gonna be the main theme of the first arc of the story as they try to settle into their relationship.
I also couldn't wait to make Amanda show the door to someone like Rick, hehe, getting bitchy and boasting she's 'Rick's queen' unabashedly after many years of unresolved, repressed trauma of feeling unwanted, unloved.

So, stay tuned for more. I think I will need a two-month writing break before I start to post the new book. I've already written 20 chapters, but couldn't even finish the first act... This book is gonna be long, I'm afraid. :)

I truly can't wait to see you again! Until then. Cheers!