No Good at Saying Sorry

Glenn, Abraham, Carol, and I all walked down the road together, approaching the house Deanna had put Rick in last night to cool down. It was one of the houses still under construction. Michonne stayed with him all night after Rosita patched up his face. Pete was also placed in a separate house away from Jessie and their kids. Deanna knew of the abuse Pete was putting his family through behind closed doors, but he was the town's only doctor and all she did was pray that things would get better. After finding that out I understood Rick's anger now, I understood why Rick told Pete if he lay a hand on them again he'd be dead.

Glenn pushed open the front door, all of us walking in behind him and Abraham shutting it behind us so we could talk to Rick in private. He lay on a makeshift cot just to the right of the doorway, what looked to eventually be the dining room. Michone sat on a chair in the corner of the room. He was awake and it looked as if they were just finishing up a conversation of their own.

"Where'd you get the gun?" Michonne asked him.

"You took it right? From the armoury?" Carol questioned. Rick narrowed his eyes at her questionable. "That was stupid. Why'd you do it?"

Rick sighed, his arm resting upon his knee as he pressed his back up against the wall, "Just in case." I looked over to Michonne, her arms crossed over her chest as she scowled at Rick like she was trying to read the real reason as to why he had the gun.

"Deanna's planning to have a meeting tonight," Glenn changed the subject, "For anyone who wants to."

"To kick Rick out?" I asked.

"To try," Carol answered for him.

"We don't know that," Glenn fought. "Maggie's with Deanna right now. She gonna find out what it is."

"At the meeting, you say you were worried about someone being abused and no one was doing anything about it," Carol began to coach him. "You say you took a gun just to be sure that Jessie was safe from a man who wound up attacking you. You say you'll do whatever you want them to. Just tell them a story that they want to hear." She then looked over to us. "That's what I've been doing since I got here."

"Why?" Michonne furrowed her brows at Carol.

Carol looked over at Michonne, her face more serious than ever, "Because these people are children and children like stories."

"What happens after all the nice words and they still try and kick him out?" Abraham questioned.

"They're guarding the armoury now," I nodded my head, supporting Abraham's claim. If they were guarding it now, it meant that they were scared of Rick, scared of us.

"We still have knives. That's all we'll need against them." I looked over at Carol, wondering when she became this person. So defensive, so untrusting. Ever since she had saved us from Terminus, she became hard and hollowed out. It wasn't a bad thing, but I didn't see even a piece of the person she was before, left.

"Well, tonight at the meeting, if it looks like it's going bad, I whistle. Carol grabs Deanna, I take Spencer, you grab Reg," Rick pointed over to Michonne, "Scar, Glenn, Abraham cover us and watch the crowd."

"Rick, we can talk to them," I cut him off.

"Yeah, we will. But, if we can't get through, we take the three of them and say we'll slit their throats."

"Like at Terminus?" I shook my head. My eyes met Ricks, clearly disappointed.

"No, we just tell 'em. They give us the armoury and it's over."

Glenn sighed, "Did you want this?" he asked Rick.

"No," Rick breathed out, staring Glenn down. "I hit my limit. I-- I screwed up," he pursed his lips together, "And here we are."

"Oh bullshit, Rick. You were hesitant about Alexandria from the start. You sought out problems and now we all pay the price for it," I snapped at him. I was calling it how it was. I rarely ever disagreed with Rick, but him hitting his limit was bullshit. He pushed himself to the limit, he was in the process of self-sabotage and he was taking us all down with him. "You know very well that if you're out so are we, and you didn't think of that before you did what you did. They won't kick all of us out, but you know that if you go then we're coming with you."

I pushed past Abraham, fuming. I whipped open the front door, slamming it behind me on the way out.

------

The sun had set on the day by now, it was just after dinner time and the meeting Deanna was holding would be starting any minute. I shoved my hands deeper into the pockets of the thick coat I was wearing as the temperature had dropped drastically at night. I walked around the outskirts of town, trying to get all of my thoughts of what I wanted to say in order before I arrived. I had to rack my brain for all the noble things Rick has done for us to recite to a group of very scared people. Although there was a list of things I could easily choose from I found it hard to formulate a good argument when I was so mad at the situation he had put us in.

I needed to pick examples carefully. I knew I wanted to talk about Atlanta, but they would probably discredit that since it was such a long time ago, people had changed so much since the beginning. I also wanted to tell them about the winter we had spent moving from place to place as a group, no one turning on one another even once. But, then again, I'd have to skip over that part where Rick had killed Shane to ensure we'd be able to do that. I wanted to tell them about Rick saving us from Woodbury, although, to any outside source it would sound as if we infiltrated them. Just the way Rigs had explained to me. Then I wanted to talk about the night we encounter Joe, but Rick's actions would only scare these people further. To us, Rick was our saviour in many situations and vice versa, but to others, we very well might look like the problem.

I cut across someone's lawn after scaling the entire perimeter of the town. I stepped on the sidewalk, making my way down the street to Deanna and Reg's house. I watched my feet as I walked, my brain still swirling with thoughts about how this night would go. A firm hand gripped onto my shoulder, startling me as the person put all their bodyweight into leaning into me. I swung my head to my left, my eyes landing the melted skin of a walker. Then the hissing finally hit my ears as it opened its mouth and lunged towards my face. I threw my hands up catching the walker by the chin to hold it back.

I couldn't think fast enough, I had no weapon. What was a walker doing inside the walls? Was there a breach in the panels? I struggled to keep it from me, its right hand still tightly latched onto my jacket while the other flailed aimlessly in the air. I had to think of something fast because three more were on the way. My eyes landed on the rocks surrounding the tree on the front lawn. The only thing I could do was throw myself to the ground with the walker still on me. I had to get my arms close enough to those rocks. I turned my footing, tumbling down onto my back, preparing myself for the blow to my lungs when the walker would fall with me.

My back hit the grass with a thud, the walker smacking hard against my chest and hovering just inches over my face. My right hand went back to its chin, her straw-like hair dangling around my cheeks and brushing against my ears every time it launched forward with a chomp. My left hand danced above my head, feeling around for one of the rocks. My fingers brushed over it, pulling the decorative garden piece into my palm and swinging my arm back around to make contact with the walker's skull. The first hit only fazed the walker, sending splats of blood down on my face. Blindly, I hit its skull against, hearing the crack as a stream of blood leaked out and its body toppled off of me.

I rolled over, placing my palms on the grass to hoist myself up and make a run for it. It wasn't even a fraction of a second before the next walker was on top of me. Its body ricocheted off my back and sent my arms out from under me. All the air squeezed out from my lungs when a second walker fell on top and then the third. Their weight was suffocating. I was fucked. I couldn't scream, I couldn't talk, I could barely even suck in half a breath. All I could do was pull my hood over my head, praying they couldn't find a way to get to my skin.

"Hey!" I could hear a voice call out, attempting to pull the walker's attention away from me. My heart rate sped up, the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I hoped they'd get to me in time. Before the walkers were able to get a grasp on my hood, or before they figure out my legs were an easy target. I felt the weight begin to lighten, each walker being thrown from my back. I sucked in a deep breath, gasping in the air as the blood rushed back down to my feet.

I rolled over onto my butt, pushing myself backwards on the grass as my eyes landed on Rick wrestling with one of the walkers while the other two fumbled back onto their feet. My lungs still heaved for air as I picked my rock back up. There was no time to think, just act. All of my fight or flight instincts kicking back in. I feared that I was losing them. I grunted as I threw my arm back, making contact with the back of the walker's head. The walker fell to its knees from the force, but I still needed to make a second blow. I lazily fell on top of it, hitting the walker again and again and again.

I didn't stop until I felt two hands on my shoulders again. My bones jumped inside of my skin as the hand then grasped onto my wrist, holding my arm in the air. I turned my head, letting the rock slip from my fingertips when I realized it was Rick.

"It's dead," he spoke softly. I looked back down at the walker, its skull so smashed in that nothing but chunks of flesh remained. I hadn't realized how scared I was until now. Rick let go of my arm, walking over to one of the walkers and hoisting its limp body over his shoulder.

"Where-- where are you going?" I asked, my voice trembling as I got back to my feet. I finally rubbed my eyes clean, blinking away all of the blood.

"We got a meeting to get to, remember?" he answered, walking straight towards Deanna's house.

I could see the glow of a small fire as we approached her house. I caught up to Rick, walking directly beside him as he lugged the walker along with him.

"What are you gonna tell them?" I asked, my voice low. I was still coming down from the attack.

"I'm not telling them anything," he said, "I'm showing them."

"I just want to keep my family safe. You know? And I don't even know what that means anymore, but if it means that we've got to get rid of--" One of the men was making his case against Rick before his eyes trailed up and landed on the two of us.

Both of our faces were covered in blood, my white shirt completely stained red as I looked physically out of breath. Rick threw the walker down into the middle of the circle. People jumped back from it like they had never seen one up close before, most of the women gasping at the sight.

"There wasn't a guard on the gate. It was open. Scar nearly died tonight," Rick spat out, looking back towards me as his chest heaved with frustration. I winced at the reality of his words.

Deanna snapped her head towards her son, Spencer, her brows tied up in knots. She was infuriated.

He raised his hands slowly in defence, trying to calm her, "I asked Gabriel to close it--"

"Go!" She snapped, sending him back off to man the door.

"I didn't bring it in," Rick spoke up again, stepping further into the middle of the circle, "It got inside on its own. They always will-- the dead and the living, because we're in here. And the ones out there… they'll hunt us. They'll find us. They'll try to use us. They'll try to kill us. But we'll kill them. We'll survive. We can show you how." Rick looked back towards me again, staring at me for a long moment. I breathed out a sigh of relief, a small half grin sliding up my face as I nodded back at him. He was finally understanding what I had been trying to tell him for so long. He turned his attention back towards the group. "You know, I was thinking-- I was thinking how many of you do I have to kill to save your lives? But I'm not gonna do that. You're gonna change." He turned his head, looking directly at Deanna and Reg. "I'm not sorry for what I said last night. I'm sorry for not saying it sooner. You're not ready, but you have to be. Right now, you have to be. Luck runs out."

"You're not one of us. You're not one of us!" A deep voice boomed from behind me. I jumped, stepping to the side as Pete entered through the gate, Michonne's sword gripped tightly in his right hand. Jessie gasped, shaking her head at her husband.

"Pete, you don't want to do this," Reg stepped in front of the man, placing himself between Pete and Rick. Pete stared straight throw Reg, his eyes narrowed at Rick. His shoulders were tense, all of his anger balling up into his fists as his knuckles went white around the sword.

"Get the hell away from me, Reg," Pete gritted his teeth continuing to press forward.

Reg placed one of his hands on Pete's shoulder, trying his hardest to calm him, "Pete, just stop."

"Get away from me."

"Stop, just stop," Reg continued.

"Get away! Get away!" Pete yelled. His eyes remained on Rick as he brought both his hands up to push Reg off of him. His fists thrust Reg's body away from him at the same time the sword went through the motions with it. The sharp blade slid against Reg's throat, all of the blood in his body spewing out at once.

Deanna screamed, the sound shattering my eardrums as Reg stumbled backwards. Both of his hands flew to his neck, trying to stop the blood from draining out of his body. His back hit the ground, everyone who stood behind finally realizing what had just happened.

Abraham tackled Pete to the ground, Michonne retrieving her sword from his hands. Deanna lunged for Reg as he choked on blood.

"Oh, no, no, no, no!" Deanna wailed. "My love, oh no, my love!" My hand smacked against my mouth, my head turning as I was unable to look at him. All the memories of Heschel's death rushed to my mind.

Instead, I looked at Rick, watching the situation unfold in an eerily calm manner. He looked at Reg and Deanna before he looked back over at Pete.

"This is him! This is him!" Pete continued to shout as his face was being pressed into the pavement by Abraham's strength.

Reg's choking and fight for air finally stopped. His eyes glazed back and in a matter of seconds, he was dead. Tears streamed down Deanna's face as she turned her head at looked up at Rick as she held her husband. "Rick…" she sobbed. His face was a blank stare, waiting for what she was about to ask of him. "Do it," she ordered.

Without even a blink Rick turned, pulled a gun from his belt and shot Pete in the head. Our group remained still, staring down at Pete with a bullet hole in his right temple. Everyone else was screaming. Their wails echoed through the town as my eyes remained glued to Pete.

"Rick?" an unfamiliar, yet calming voice called out for him. He sounded concerned.

My head shot up, my eyes landing on a man about Rick's age dressed in a beige trench coat with a backpack fastened on tightly. He held a map in one hand and a long whittled pole in the other. I looked directly past him though, my mind only caring about the man who stood next to him. Daryl was back and his face was visibly concerned. I don't know how much they had just witnessed, but he wouldn't even bat an eye towards it. His eyes were on me as I stood there drenched in blood.