Dead Man Walking | Rick Grimes

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I leaned against Gregory's desk, watching him pace around. His eyes glared at me every few seconds as he thought about what we asked of him and Hilltop. Finally, he finished pacing and turned to face us, his whole demeanor full of fear.

"No!" He exclaimed, "No way in hell! You people swore you could take the Saviors out, and you failed. So, any arrangement we had is now done—null and void. We aren't trade partners. We aren't friends," I looked over at Rick, scanning him up and down as he stood by one of the chairs with his hands on his hips, "And we never met. We don't know each other." Gregory sat on the chair behind his desk and eyed me when I lifted myself onto the desk and crossed my legs, "I don't owe you anything," He gulped before looking at Rick.

"In fact, You owe me for taking in the refugees at great personal risk." Gregory nodded, his eyes coming back to me.

"Oh, you were very brave staying in here while Maggie and Sasha saved this place. Your courage was inspiring," Jesus retorted with a sarcastic tone.

"Hey, don't you work for me? Aren't we friends," Gregory snapped, finally diverting his gaze away from me.

"Hey," I spoke, gaining his attention again, "We already started this."

"You started—"

"We did," I emphasized. It's true, we did this hand in hand with Hilltop, "and we're gonna win."

"These are killers!" Gregory snapped, stressing the word Killers.

"And what are we?" I scoffed, "We've been doing this shit for three weeks, and we're sick of it! You've been doing this for much, much longer than we, and you don't have a problem with it? You sit here with a thumb up your ass while they kill your people!"

"Sometimes we don't get to choose what our life looks like. Sometimes, Jamie," I rolled my eyes at him and jumped off the desk. "You have to count the blessings you have."

"How many people can we spare?" Maggie asked and approached the desk where I previously sat, "How many people here can fight?"

"We?" Gregory scoffed, "I don't even know how many people we have, Margaret." Wow, and he calls himself their leader!? Before Negan offed some of our people, we had 59 people, but now we have 55. "And does it even matter? I mean," Gregory scoffed again, completely bewildered by what we wanted and were proposing, "W-w-what are you going to do? Start a platoon of sorghum farmers?"

"You and I both know that some of the greatest armies started as guerillas," I snapped, "With a little bit of training, the people of Hilltop can not only defend themselves from all the threats behind these walls, but they can also protect their homes from tyrants like Negan and the Saviors."

"They're not gonna want to fight," Gregory said matter-of-factly, dismissing me.

"You're wrong," Tara butt in, "When people have the chance to do the right thing, they usually step up—"

"L-let me stop you before you break into song, okay?" I turned on my heel and looked up at the ceiling. My patience runs scarily thin with this man, who keeps stretching that thread thinner and thinner. Tara and I shared a bewildered look and shrugged the man off, trying to keep our cools, "And, by the way, who would train all this cannon fodder?"

"I will," Sasha said at the same time Rosita spoke up.

"Give me a week," Rosita and Sasha shared a look before turning back to Gregory.

"Rhetorical, okay?" Gregory said in a loud, singsongy voice, "I don't want to know. I never want to hear another word about any of it, ever." Rick pinched the bridge of his nose, closely mirroring Jacob as he inhaled sharply.