EPISODE FIFTEEN "the answer to all my prayers" SEASON 8
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stats: 4 weeks later GREY KINGSTON
our family, some blood and some friends thought of as our own brothers and sisters, that's what has kept us going these past couple weeks on the road. rick and i, we've been left in the dark not knowing what's happening with our people, the ones in north carolina, the group in ohio and the second group sent after them.
but as we walk along the edge of the trees of alexandria's front road—the road we once followed when our group was whole all those years ago, our distrust a metallic, heady taste in our mouths, the memories of the burning prison fresh in our minds as fresh as the smell of the smoke from terminus in our noses—the road aaron led us down to the community that became our home, it does not look as it did that day.
it doesn't look the way it did the day i left it a little over two months ago. the walls of our community have foreign flags draped over their sides, words and an emblem on it i can barely make out as i squint and my boots slow in the dirt at the person pacing on the other side of the wall atop the watch dock in a white uniform, white helmet, and with a gun.
not our own.
the thought goes through my head at the same time it does rick's. i can only tell because he doesn't waste a second before beginning to run, run toward the sparse lining of trees left to conceal us in the woods beside the road, but he doesn't make it a foot onto the street before i'm raising my bow at the dark figure emerging from our blind sight that has grabbed for rick with a hushed yell.
rick turns on it—on him—his curls swinging, his knife pulled and gripped in his right hand. but rick doesn't spill blood and i don't let go of my arrow as the man takes a step back, a dirty hand raised to his mouth, quieting me and rick. negan.
rick lowers his knife, his ribs expanding suddenly as he takes in a sharp breath, his maroon t-shirt stretching across his broad chest. the stubble on his cheeks is mixed with gray, and i haven't been able to stop looking at him since the day we found each other.
i've been wondering if we would have made it back home to virginia quicker if we had been able to keep our hands off of each other, but, what's a few more days, rick had whispered each time i told him we needed to wake up and go. he won the argument every time and it ended with the horn of the car accidentally going off because two people don't fit in the drivers seat, or we ended up in the backseats again or made due over the hood of the car or against a tree.
"holy shit." negan drawls, grinning at the sight of rick—someone he has not seen in almost four years. "rick grimes, the man that you are. you survive everything that's thrown at ya, don't you?"
rick's eyebrows furrow, his skin, and mine, almost as dirty as negan's, as if negan has also been out in the woods for a very long time.
negan's hazel eyes trail over to me, his gaze softening and grin fading, "hey, grey."
