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The World We Live In

Killing Time

“When suffering knocks at your door and you say there is no seat for him, he tells you not to worry because he has brought his own stool.” — Chinua Achebe



After the embrace and assuring words from Georgie, Rick finished placing their pillows at the top of their makeshift bed on the floor and then just laid down on his back, knees bent, as he stared up at the ceiling. Georgie sat there, watching him for a moment; watching the way he closed his eyes to think, to rest, to absorb…everything. The last week seemed to have aged him another couple of years. She was certain there were more greys in his hair now, and his beard was almost predominantly white. When she’d met him, a mere four months ago, which felt more like four years ago in this new world, Rick’s beard had been almost exclusively brown.

Although their bedroom door was open, there was no one upstairs except for Judith who was still asleep in her room. The calm and the quiet gave the impression that everything was fine, but it didn’t do anything for the heavy feeling of dread in their chests.

Shifting to lie upon her side, Georgie bent her arm at the elbow and propped the side of her head in her hand as she rested there on the floor next to Rick; the unzipped sleeping bag and blanket doing little to mask the hardness of the floor, but it was better than nothing.

“We’re gonna need more supplies, and soon,” Rick muttered after minutes of silence hanging in the air. He lifted his right hand and pinched the bridge of his nose while furrowing his brow. His eyes still remained closed. “Negan said he’d be here in a week and then showed up after three days. He could still be back in that original week timeframe, which gives us only four more days till he might be back. It’s probably better to just assume he’ll show up before then.”

Georgie sighed and rolled onto her back to stare up at the ceiling, now, too. “He says one thing and does another. He said he’s a man of his word. Bullshit. There’s no trusting what he says, no matter what. But we have to be smart about this. We gotta think about both the short game and the long game.”

Rick smirked, despite his sour mood, and turned with opened eyes to look at Georgie’s profile. “You sounded like Carol just then.”

Georgie’s expression turned into that of a deep frown and her eyes narrowed. “Do you think she’s alive or dead out there?”

With a sigh, Rick shrugged. “I have no clue. I can’t think about that right now. I mean, if she’s alive, I’m glad, but she left us. She left knowing what we’d be up against. If she’d never left, Daryl wouldn’t have gone off after her, and then Michonne, Glenn and Rosita wouldn’t have gone off. Glenn would’ve been here for Maggie. Rosita and Carol both had medical training here and there. They could’ve been able to do something…”

“But the Saviors were still on the roads, coming to find us,” Georgie pinpointed. “They’d have cut us off on those roads, regardless, on our way to get Maggie proper care at Hilltop. We’d still have ended up where we are. Negan would’ve still killed one of us. That was his plan all along once he brought us to that clearing. But who knows who he would’ve chosen in a different scenario. Maybe we would’ve only had to bury one body instead of two. I’ve already been rehashing all these different versions of that night and the days leading up to it in my head since we got back here. None of it helps or changes what did happen. All it does is serves to give me headaches and nightmares because I can’t seem get it off my mind.”

Rick rolled onto his side this time, and Georgie turned her head to look at him. Lifting a hand, he brought it to her waist and let it trail down slightly to her hip and, with little effort he shifted his weight around until his body was hovering halfway over hers. With his right leg between both of hers, he pressed his weight gently down upon her as he slowly encircled his arms around her waist and brought his lips against her lips.

“Negan wasn’t all wrong,” he murmured, in between a few pecks.

“Yeah? How so?”

“You do have a purty mouth.” A small, mischievous smile crept onto his lips as he went in for a deeper kiss this time. He was tempted to let his hands begin to roam; to properly make out with her like some teenager with his in a dark corner on prom night. But the door was still wide open, which meant anyone could walk upstairs at any given moment and catch an eyeful. Of course, he could get up and shut it, but if he was getting up, it was gonna have to go take care of the other tasks that took precedence at the moment.

“When do you plan on heading out on a supply run?” Georgie asked, as if reading Rick’s mind.

He sighed, laying there atop Georgie with his forearms propping himself up so that the full weight of his upper body didn’t press down too much on her chest and suffocate her. “I was almost thinking early tomorrow morning, but now I’m thinking why not make the most of the daylight I have left? We still got a few hours. I can get a decent start out if I leave within the hour, give or take.”

Georgie frowned again. “I understand the need to leave so soon, but I’m admittedly not enthralled by it.”

“I know, but it’s a necessary evil.”

“I know.”

“And, the sooner I leave, the sooner I can get back.”

“Well, when you put it that way.”

Rick smirked. Leaning down slightly, he kissed her again, and then rolled completely off her.

“Thanks for blue-balling me by the way,” Georgie added.

With a snicker, Rick sat up and pushed himself up to his feet. “I’ll make it up to you.” Leaning down, he held out a hand and offered it to her, which she took.

As she stood up with his help, Georgie straightened her shirt and looked at their makeshift bed. “Maybe while you’re out you can find us some new mattresses. The one we had was a Serta. That was some good shit.”

Shoving his hand into the back pocket of her jeans closest to him, Rick urged her closer. “I see what I can do,” he murmured.

With a smile, Georgie placed her hands on his shoulders and let out a contented breath. “Moments like this I can almost forget what anything bad has happened and is happening.”

Rick nodded in agreement. “Tell me about,” he remarked. “If I could, I’d never leave this room. I’d stay naked and buried between your legs twenty-four seven.”

“Sounds ideal.”

“No. Ideal would also include a quiet hotel room with a beach view somewhere tropical, room service and in-room massage therapy.”

Georgie almost chuckled at the imagery. “That is definitely ideal.”

Stepping over to his side of their lack of bed, Rick crouched down and picked up his utility belt he’d removed before setting up their new sleeping arrangement. Slipping it on around his waist, he looked over at Georgie and watched her watching him.

“You’re not going alone, are you?” Georgie asked, getting back on subject in regard to the supply run.

“No,” he shook his head. “I’ll take someone with me.”

“Take Michonne. She’d be pretty useful, especially since we’re without guns.”

“I doubt I’m her favorite person right now.”

“She doesn’t hate you because of what’s happening. She’s just frustrated,” Georgie insisted. “I heard you and her talking. I know she understands your side of things. She listened and heard you out and didn’t argue any further. I wouldn’t call that thinking of you as her least favorite person. That position is filled at the moment by He Who Shall Not Be Named.”

“That’s a Harry Potter reference, isn’t it?” Rick questioned, meandering over toward their door as Georgie began to follow after him.

“You picked up on that?”

“I have a teenage son. I’ve watched the movies with him.”

Georgie smirked as they made their way downstairs together. “Too bad the world ended before the last two films were released.”

“I suppose if I really wanted to know what happened in the end, I could just pick up the last book and read it,” Rick remarked. Then, he added, “If I ever had the time for such a luxury. I swear, I’m busier now than before the apocalypse.”

At the base of the stairs, Rick rounded the corner first and stepped into the kitchen where he found Michonne doing the dishes. On further inspection, it seemed she was distracted by her own thoughts and was washing the same coffee cup over and over. He frowned and turned his attention toward the living room as Georgie stepped up from behind him with a slight limp in her step from her gunshot wound which was still healing. Finding the downstairs living and dining areas empty, Rick brought his attention back toward Michonne.

“Carl still not back yet?”

“Still with Enid.”

Rick nodded. “I’m going on a run in a little bit. Should only be gone a day,” he informed. “Would you want to come?”

Michonne stopped washing the cup, pulling it out from under the stream of running water, and turned to look briefly at Rick before shaking her head. “No, I have some other things I need to take care of here.”

Rick accepted her response and didn’t push it further. Throwing a look at Georgie, it was almost as if he was telling her ‘I told you so’. “I’m gonna go find Carl,” he remarked, mostly to her. “I might see if Aaron will come with me.”

Georgie nodded. “Okay.”

Patting her arm, Rick leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Be right back.” Leaning in closer, he whispered, “And, I love you.”

Georgie smiled as he stepped away from her and eyed her knowingly. She mouthed the words ‘I love you, too’ back to him before watching him turn and walk out the front door.



Rick, Carl, Georgie, Michonne and Aaron were all standing in Carl’s bedroom a short while later; the teen having been brought back home by his father. Aaron had agreed to come with Rick on the supply run and stood quietly in the doorway with a packed bag over his shoulder, waiting for when Rick was ready to head on out. Carl didn’t seem all too pleased and that was one of the reasons why Rick had decided he would extend the invitation to join the supply run to his son. They needed to talk about some issues between them, and he wanted to involve his son in more things now; give him more responsibility.

“You could come with us,” Rick remarked.

“Someone’s gotta be here for Judith,” Carl replied, tossing a dart at his dartboard, but missing — again — and instead hitting the wall…again.

“Georgie’s here for that. And there’s other people who want to help. We’ll only be gone a few days at most. I’m hoping we can get back by tomorrow night at the earliest,” Rick continued, watching the way his son avoided looking at him and instead continued to throw darts, which were there for him to work on his eye coordination. “We need the supplies. They’re gonna be back soon.”

“Is this how it’s gonna be from now on?” Carl barked.

Yes. It is. You know that.”

Another dart was thrown, and hit the wall.

With a slump in his shoulders and a heavy sigh, Carl stalked forward and began pulling the darts out of the wall. “See you in a few days,” the teen muttered; his tone of voice so terribly moody that it was such a teenage cliché.

Looking between the adults in the room, Rick placed his hands on his hips before focusing on Aaron last. “We should get going,” he announced, walking out of his son’s room without as much as a goodbye.

“He’ll come around,” Aaron assured, quietly.

Rick caught his eye as he stepped past him, but wasn’t holding his breath anytime soon. Raising a teenager for the first time was hard enough, and doing it in an apocalyptic world was worse.

As the adults slipped out into the upstairs hallway, Aaron caught Rick’s eye again. “I’ll, uh, meet you downstairs.”

As walked off, Michonne walked up next.

“If you change your mind,” Rick spoke, handing her a walkie-talkie, “we’re headed north.”

“Good luck,” she replied.

With a slight nod, he cast his eyes lastly upon Georgie who stood a few feet off to the side, with her arms folded across her chest. “C’mere,” he beckoned to her with a curl of an index finger.

Walking up to him as Michonne took her leave to follow after Aaron, Georgie found herself directly in front of Rick as he shifted the bag on his shoulder.

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispered.

Rick leaned in to kiss her upon the cheek, but Georgie brought her hands up; directing his face forward and bringing him in for a proper kiss goodbye. It was soft and deep, and full of yearning for more. It was a lovely mix of soft lips, warm breaths and moist tongues that alighted their senses. Rick found he could very easily disappear into her lips and forget the world around them completely, while her fingers grazed the scratchy salt and pepper hairs of his beard like a child finding comfort in its security blanket. After a few moments, when they found the willpower to separate, Rick breathed out a shaky breath against her lips and brushed his nose against her nose.

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead briefly to hers.

“I love you, too.”

Without another word, Rick forced himself to walk away.



“Why didn’t you go with my dad?”

It was barely twenty minutes since Rick and Aaron had left. Carl was sitting backwards in one of the dining table chairs, watching as Michonne reached for her sheathed katana and picked it up off the end table beside the couch.

“I have to figure some things out.”

“What is there to figure out?” the teen implored, standing up and following after her as she walked toward the kitchen island.

“How we can do this,” she replied, stuffing items into a satchel, like the walkie-talkie Rick had given her. “If we can.”

“We can’t. No, not like this.”

Michonne took two water bottles off the counter behind her and stuffed them into the satchel as well; her gaze not fully reaching Carl. “Your dad thinks differently.”

“And he’s wrong. You know it,” he insisted.

“Even if I think he is…” she started to say, heading for the front door and throwing the strap of the satchel around her. “I don't know. Change your bandage later, and be nice to Georgie.”

Georgie had heard the conversation.

She was standing on the second last step on the staircase, with Judith in her arms; the little girl very much awake and ready for dinner. Georgie listened to Carl talking with Michonne, and heard Michonne leave the house. Just as she stepped out into the kitchen so it didn’t look like she was eavesdropping, she saw the teen heading for the front door as well.

“Uh, where you headed?”

“Out,” he answered with an ounce of moodiness in his voice.

“Out where?”

Carl turned around abruptly and it truly looked like he wanted to snap at her, but then he remembered how guilty he’d felt about it that morning; about telling her she wasn’t his mother. He truly liked Georgie, loved her like family and respected her. He was fine with her with his father, had accepted his mother was gone and his father had the right to move on and find love again, but virtually new in his life, even though so much had happened that brought all of them so much closer together. He appreciated the way she cared for Judith and him like they were her own, and he hoped someday he might be able to view her the same way.

Right now, he just didn’t want to have this mother-son type of banter with her.

“Out with Enid,” he replied, with a considerably more civil tongue.

Shifting Judith on her hip, Georgie nodded and accepted his answer. “I don’t know what I’m gonna throw together for dinner yet, but don’t be out too late. Okay?”

Even though he couldn’t be sure he could keep that promise, he nodded and made it anyway. “Yeah, sure.” With a half-smile, Carl turned and darted out the door.

Georgie frowned and looked at Judith, who was looking back at her with an expression so similar it made her laugh a little. “Brothers, huh?”

Judith seemed to catch her drift and bobbed her head. She then proceeded to pull her pacifier out of her mouth and toss it to the ground as she babbled in a whiny voice and began to throw her weight to signify she wanted to be put down. Georgie obliged the girl, who was still wobbly as she walked, and set her down on her two feet. As she made her way to the cupboard to the fridge for figure out what to give Judith for dinner, the girl hobbled over on uncertain legs and grabbed onto Georgie’s pant legs, gripping as tightly as she could while pushing herself forward to peer inside the fridge, too, as if she was helping.

“What do you say, Judy? How about some crackers and I’ll cut up apple pieces for you. That sound like a plan?”

Judith craned her head and peered upward. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Well, too bad. That’s what you’re gonna get and you’re gonna like it.”

Moving Judith safely out of the way so she could shut the fridge door, Georgie made her way toward the bowl of apples on the island and set one aside and then moved toward the cupboard she knew contained a box of crackers. All the while, Judith remained at the fridge and was now smacking the palms of her hands against the stainless steel surface.

“Bah bah gah…”

“Oh, really?”

Judith turned around, looked at Georgie and then looked over her shoulder as if expecting someone there. Holding a hand out with her palm up, she frowned. “Dada?”

“Dada went bye-bye for a little while,” Georgie replied, carrying on a conversation with a toddler; something she had plenty of experience with, so this was old hat. “He’ll be back soon, though.”

I hope, she thought.

As Georgie went about cutting up the apple on the kitchen, Judith crouched down and picked her pacifier up off the floor and popped it into her mouth. Albeit muffled, her words were still heard as she began to toddle forward and grabbed onto Georgie’s pant leg again.

“Mama…mama…” When she pressed her face against Georgie’s leg, a succession of gibberish spilled out that made Georgie smile and forget about everything else she was currently worrying about.

“I love you, too, Judith.”

“Mama…bah gah daba nah nah abba dada…”

Georgie looked down at the little girl and smiled even more.



Hours passed since Judith had been fed and Carl had yet to return home. Michonne hadn’t either, but she was an adult who could take care of herself, so Georgie wasn’t too concerned there. Carl, on the other hand, was another story. After giving Judith a bath and changing her into fresh pajamas, Georgie sat downstairs on the couch reading to Judith from a picture book. When Judith’s head began to bob and she began rubbing her eyes, Georgie took that as a perfect sign to take Judith up to bed for the night. The little girl fussed and climbed up, trying to avoid going to asleep even though she was clearly tired. After about thirty minutes of coaxing and brushing her hair with her hand, Georgie was able to finally leave the room; convinced Judith had given up by then and was allowed the Sandman to take hold.

The first thing Georgie did was head downstairs with the baby monitor, which she set down on the kitchen counter and plugged into the wall socket. Once it was all set up, she stepped out the front door and onto the porch, looking up at the dark purple sky and then up the street where several homes had turned on their lights for the evening.

Feeling nervous, she stepped back inside and unplugged the baby monitor, knowing its battery still had plenty enough charge to it for her to walk around freely with it. But unplugging it had been for a specific reason. Georgie went back out the front door, which she closed, but not all the way. Quickly and quietly she hurried down the front steps and darted next door and let herself in.

On the couch, she found Eugene watching The Empire Strikes Back on DVD and he practically jumped out of his skin. Popcorn from the bowl on his lap even toppled out in his surprise.

“Whoa, you scared the Dickens out of me,” he muttered, turning around to properly look at her. “Something up?”

“Is Carl here?”

“Uh, no, not that I am aware of.”

Georgie sighed. “Have you seen him around at all?”

“No.”

“Shit. What about Enid—have you seen her?”

“I can say with certainty that I have not.” Eugene frowned. “Did something happen?”

“I told him to be home for dinner and it’s been hours, and now it’s dark.”

“You know they like to go outside the walls together, hanging out, doing teenage stuff? Like, reading books and making out, probably.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Them making out?”

“No,” Georgie rolled her eyes. “That they went outside the walls, especially now, what with everything going on.” With stressed sigh, she cast her eyes distractedly up toward the TV screen at the scene where the AT-ATs are firing lasers at the Rebel Alliance during the Battle of Hoth. “Will you do me a favor? Go next door and stay there, keep an ear out for Judith. She’s asleep, so she won’t be any trouble.” Tossing the baby monitor over the couch as Eugene caught it. “I’m gonna go look around for Carl.”

Eugene nodded adamantly, grabbing the remote in one hand and pausing the movie before getting up to follow Georgie out of the house without missing a beat.

As Eugene turned right to head up into her house, Georgie turned left and began to walk up the road toward the intersection. No longer bothered by the blue house she had lived in with Jake and Tristan, she ran up the steps to it first and let herself in, calling out Carl’s name, but getting no reply. Certain that he would’ve replied were he there, Georgie deduced Carl wasn’t and left. She began going door to door, asking if anyone had seen Carl.

Since she had left the house without Rick’s set of keys to the armory and pantry, she needed to go get Olivia to open it up to see if maybe Carl was there. Which he wasn’t.

Gabriel had seen her walking around, having been peering out one of the church windows at the right moment and came outside to join her in her search.

“How can I help?” he asked.

“Grab me a flashlight and a pair of binoculars. Meet me at the main gate.”

“Are you going outside the walls? Do you need a knife, too?”

Georgie considered that option, and shook her head. “No, the flashlight and binoculars will be fine.”

Georgie and Gabriel parted ways, with him heading home to get those items he had while she walked along the road in front of the townhouses and until it curved and opened up toward the front of Alexandria where the main gate was. Scott was up on top of the lookout post, taking watch; which was somewhat pointless now that they had no guns. He was just standing up there, looking out into the darkness, nursing a travel mug of what was most likely coffee.

“Hey,” Georgie called up to him, catching his attention immediately, since there was clearly nothing else catching his attention outside the walls.

“Hey,” he greeted back.

“Have you seen Carl, or even Enid?”

He shrugged. “Nah, not since this afternoon when that asshole was here. Something wrong?”

Georgie placed her hands on her hips and sighed. Stepping forward, she walked over to the ladder and began to climb up to the top of the post; taking Scott’s hand as he offered it. And she appreciated the gesture, especially with having to put extra weight on her right leg in the process.

Standing there beside Scott now, she looked out into the darkness before them, down at the burned out ruins of the houses on the other side of the wall, the cars decorated with sharpened spikes to impale approaching walkers. There was no moon out, which made it even darker. The only light came from the stars and they provided next to nothing.

“I think Carl may have snuck out of Alexandria.”

“Huh. That would explain where that other car went.”

Georgie whipped her head toward Scott. “What car?”

Pointing outside the gate and up the road. “You can’t see it now, ‘cause it’s too dark, but there’s usually a car parked beyond the ones with the spikes. Its’ one of our extras to use in case we can’t get to the cars inside Alexandria. I noticed it missing when I came on watch but I just assumed Rick and Aaron took it on their supply trip.”

“They took a box truck.”

“Yeah, but I figured maybe one was driving the truck, and the other took the car. That way they could bring back more supplies.”

Georgie leaned forward, gripping the top of the metal wall. “Fuck,” she groaned. “Why can’t that boy stay in the house?”

“Georgie!” Gabriel’s voice rang out.

Turning around and looking down, Georgie spotted the pastor down below the lookout post, brandishing a flashlight and binoculars.

“Catch!”

Preparing herself, she held her hands out as Gabriel tossed the flashlight up first. When she caught it, she handed it off to Scott and then waited as Gabriel repeated the process with the binoculars. “Thank you but, maybe next time, carry bring them up? If I’d dropped them they’d have broken.”

Gabriel winced. “Right. Sorry.” Then, “Do you see anything?”

Taking the flashlight and clicking it on with one hand, she used the other to hold the binoculars up. Georgie aimed the flashlight around the area just outside the wall to literally shed light onto the situation, but saw nothing that helped her. She did, however, somewhat notice the spot that Scott had been mentioning about where the missing car should’ve been.

Frowning a deep frown, Georgie lowered the binoculars and turned off the flashlight. “Shit.”

“What are you gonna do?” Scott wondered.

“There’s nothing I can do right now,” she replied, her shoulders slumping. “I think that boy is gonna give me more grey hairs than his father has.”



That night, Georgie barely slept at all and it had nothing to do with nightmares. In fact, for the first time since returning to Alexandria after their brutal, dual losses, she didn’t have a single bad dream. However, her brain was so wired with worry over Carl that sleeping was quite the laborious chore. She also couldn’t bring herself to sleep in her own room without Rick there, so she brought a pillow and blanket quietly into Judith’s room and laid down on the floor there to sleep, even though she spent most of the time just staring through the dark, up at the ceiling, while listening to Judith’s gentle snoring.

At the first glimpse of daylight trying to work its way into the small, closet of a bedroom, Georgie was up and went to take a shower in her and Rick’s master bathroom before changing into some clean clothes. Judith woke up a short while after that, so they started the day together.

Carl hadn’t come home, Michonne hadn’t come home.

It was just Georgie and Judith, together, and the entire time Georgie was so plagued with worry and a horrible feeling of dread in her stomach that something bad had either happened or was about to.

The one good thing that happened that morning was that Tara had returned home. Although, it meant she would be told about Denise’s death, as well as Glenn and Abraham’s, and how Negan had taken Daryl as his slave, more or less, and Carol and Morgan were just MIA, while Maggie and Sasha were at Hilltop. Mostly, it was the deaths that would haunt Tara.

Eventually the younger woman came ‘round to see Georgie; needing someone to hang around with since Rosita and Eugene had apparently left Alexandria to go find supplies. Gabriel and Spencer had also gone out, too, which sounded like an odd combo to Georgie.

“How was your supply trip?” Georgie asked while Judith played with her beloved red Solo cups on the living room floor. All the baby toys they’d acquired for her, and that’s what she always wanted to play with. Georgie was nursing a cup of coffee and Tara was doing the same as both women sat on opposite ends of the couch; avoiding the elephant in the room which was the topic of the recent deaths.

“It kinda sucked ass,” Tara replied bluntly. “We didn’t find much of anything. We were about to head back and these walkers came out of a pile of sand on this bridge. I got separated from Heath when I fell off the bridge and into water. I washed ashore on some frickin’ beach. I, uh, found shelter and made my way back to the bridge, but I don’t know where he is. I assume he’s alive because the RV was gone. He must’ve thought I died after falling. I don’t blame him. I just hope he’s alright. I’m just worried because he hasn’t made it back here yet.”

“He will,” Georgie assured, but her voice held little conviction. Her mind was still too preoccupied with where Carl was and if he was alright. She hadn’t even had time to worry about whether or not Rick was alright; she was so focused on his son.

“So, Rick’s on a supply trip with Aaron, huh?”

Georgie nodded.

“Where’s Michonne? Carl?”

“Don’t know, and don’t know. They both took off yesterday after Rick left. Michonne, I’m not worried about, but Carl promised he’d be home for dinner and he never came back, but wherever he went, he went with Enid and I think he stole one of our cars outside the walls that just so happens to be missing.”

“Welcome to the life of raising a teenager,” Tara attempted to joke. “This is about the age teens get rebellious, take their parent’s car and go joyriding. You and Rick just have the added bonus of walkers and The Saviors to make things worse.”

“You’re not helping.”

Tara frowned. “My bad. I’m just deflecting. I don’t know what else to talk about so I don’t talk about, you know…the other stuff.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”



By mid-afternoon, Georgie had put Judith down for a nap and was try find something, anything, to occupy her time. She once again had the baby monitor plugged into the wall socket nearest the fridge and had helped herself to a second cup of coffee since she was the only one home to enjoy it. She’d cut up an apple into slices and that’s all she ate for lunch. She even flipped through one of Judith’s picture books while sitting at the dining table, until she closed it and just began to stare off into space; lost in her thoughts and worries yet again.

The abrupt knocking at the front door snapped her out of her daydreams after a while. Turning in her chair, Georgie knitted her brow together and stood up. The pleated blinds on the door were pulled down, obscuring any view of who was on the other side and she thought little of who it would be. Assuming that maybe it was just Tara again, bored and come for another visit, Georgie willingly pulled the door open without a care in the world.

And then she regretted it.

Georgie could practically hear her heart pounding in her chest as she found herself face to face with Negan who was holding Lucille and grinning at her. “D’ya miss me?”

Without hesitation, he walked right in and she was left with no choice but to step aside. What’s more is that Carl was there, too, without the bandage wrapped around his head to cover his exposed, empty eye socket, and now walking into the house and staring guiltily back at Georgie.

“Carl—where have you been?” she whispered.

“I’m fine,” he assured, calmly.

Off this, Georgie closed the door as Negan strutted around, taking in the downstairs interior.

“Great, great, great, great, great, great!” He licked his lips and smirked at Georgie. “Where’s Rick?”

Georgie hesitated, trying to find her voice, before finally answering, “Out scavenging for you.”

“Cool,” Negan beamed. “I’ll wait.”

“Well…he went out pretty far. They might not be back today.”

Hint, hint: get the fuck out of here because you’re not wanted, she thought.

Her nerve endings felt like they were on fire as she spoke to him, and she hated the way his eyes bore into hers; his gaze never faltering. She felt like a side of beef and he was a man who’d been without a meal for weeks. She had to force herself to appear as calm and collected as possible. She tried to picture Negan as Jake and how she’d finally decided to fight back against him. Of course, that had resulted in him knocking her unconscious and raping her while she was out, but that was the strength she needed right now.

“We’re running really low on everything. We’re practically starving here.”

“Well, that’s probably because you have a fat chick in charge of your food pantry,” Negan quipped. “Probably not the best idea ever.”

Georgie merely stared back at him, doing her best not to let her own gaze falter.

“So, Red—did I ever get your actual name? I think it’s kind of rude of me to not ask.”

“It’s Georgie.”

“That short for something?”

“Georgianna.”

Negan grinned, licking his lips again. “Now that’s a name. Also a mouthful so I could see how you’d prefer Georgie instead, and say, off topic—” he changed subject mid-sentence, “—have you given any more thought to my offer from yesterday? You’d make a fantastic wife, I’m sure of it. I don’t have any redheads.” He stepped up so close to her that she could feel his breath on her neck as she turned her face slightly away. “Kinda makes me wonder if the carpet matches the drapes. And, since I’m gonna be here for a while, awaiting your fearless leader’s return, maybe you and I can kill some time together. If you’d likeI think it would be enjoyable to fuck your brains out. I mean, if, you know, you’re agreeable to it.”

Before Georgie even realized what she was doing, she had lifted her hand and slapped Negan so hard across his face, his head jerked back, and there was no way he didn’t feel that sharp sting. Georgie sure felt it resonate on her hand.

Part of her was excited by what she’d just done; taking pleasure in causing him the tiniest bit of pain. But then there was the more reasonable part of her that was screaming she had just fucked up.

Georgie immediately tensed.

She expected Negan to look back at her with anger in his eyes, to slap her back or worse; kill her.

Instead, he looked back at her as if he were impressed.

Licking his lips, he leaned forward and whispered. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to be any more into you right now,” he chuckled as she leaned back from him. “Just sayin’.” Catching her drift that she was not into him and not bothering to push the subject any further, at least for the time being, Negan turned slightly and gestured toward the couch. “Alright, well, I’m just gonna put my feet up and wait for my stuff to get here.” He turned slightly, looking at Carl for a moment and then turned back to Georgie. “Red—I mean, Georgie. Would you be a lamb and make us a little lemonade? Now, I know I left y’all some of that good, powdered stuff.”

Georgie hesitated. She knew that Judith was upstairs and couldn’t leave her alone in the house with Negan there, even though Carl was. “I need to—”

Make it,” Negan growled. Then, a little more softly, he repeated, “Make it. Take your time. Make it good.”

Flashing a knowing look to Carl, Georgie had to trust he knew Judith was in the house and to take care of her. Georgie was in no position to tempt Negan’s wrath. After a little more hesitation on her part and after an assuring nod from the teenager, Georgie turned and hurried out the front door.

Her mind was suddenly blank but her body was on autopilot as she was greeted by the fresh air outside, which she welcomed completely. As she rushed down the stairs from the porch, despite wanting to be far away from Negan, all Georgie wanted to do was go back inside the house to get Carl and Judith and make some sort of run for it. It was an illogical thought, but the fantasy of being able to do it help push aside some of the dark dread she was feeling.

Heading up the road, she had one of those moments from the other world, when she’d be driving somewhere and suddenly black out. Not literally black out, as in pass out, but when she’d be so distracted with thoughts or the lack thereof that she seemed to lose a chunk of time and not realize she’d gotten to a certain destination already. She could’ve sworn she had literally stepped off the last step from the porch, but yet here she was, at the front door of the townhouse that led to the pantry.

She passed the room that used to be the armory, which was now void of all the weapons they’d had up until the day before, and continued downstairs toward the garage where the pantry was. Perusing the shelves quickly and carefully, she soon came upon the container of lemonade mix and gripped it in her hands. Spinning around on the balls of her feet, she retreated out of the garage and retraced her steps out of the townhouse and up the road. She was so distracted with getting back to her house that she wasn’t even sure she shut the townhouse door behind her.

On the street, she passed several Saviors but not a one seemed too interested in her. Her fellow Alexandrians she could tell were out on their porches, wondering why the Saviors were back and looking to her for answers, what with most of the leadership of their community being gone. And being that she was Rick’s ladylove and had more than once thrown her own weight around to oversee things getting down within the community, it wasn’t too farfetched that she would be next in line when it came to leadership.

In fact, she was correct in that assumption when Tobin came hurrying up to her just before she passed the infirmary.

“Georgie, what do we do?” he inquired, his voice sounding quite nervous.

“Just go home. I’m taking care of this,” she replied.

But was she really?

She held no real power, at least not while Negan was there. Especially, with Negan there.

I got this, she told herself. I can do this.

She made it back to the house and walked right in but didn’t see Negan or Carl anywhere, but she did hear footsteps upstairs and her heart began beating wildly in her chest. She was looking up at the ceiling as if she’d somehow be able to look through it with x-ray vision and see whatever was going on. What she really wanted to do was go upstairs and see for herself, and drag Negan away, but she was expected to make fucking lemonade.

Setting the container on the counter, she finally paused; not even realizing that, from all her hurrying, she was out of breath and her right leg was aching from all the weight she’d put upon it. Sucking in some deep, steadying breaths and pushing past that ache, using it to push her forward, Georgie went about grabbing the glass pitcher out of one of the cupboards and placed it under the ice dispenser on the freezer door. As the ice cubes began to tumble out, the sharp clatter that made, hitting the bottom of the glass pitcher echoed quite loudly throughout the downstairs but Georgie wasn’t bothered by it. She next set the pitcher in the island sink and turned on the cold water, letting it fill up while uncapping the lemonade container. After turning off the water and dumping in the amount of mix meant for that pitcher size, she took a wooden spoon and began stirring it thoroughly all together and then taste-testing it to make sure it wasn’t too bland and not too sweet either.

Satisfied that Negan would be satisfied, Georgie lifted the pitcher out of the sink and onto the island top with both hands, and then waited.

She began to wish she had some sort of roofie to put in his cup when he took a drink so that he’d pass out and she could kill him. She stood there, thinking of ways to make it look like an accident so the other Saviors wouldn’t retaliate against her. While he was unconscious, maybe she could bash him really hard on the back of the head with something that was somewhat sharp and then wipe his blood on the corner of the kitchen island and bring down one of Judith’s toys and pretend he accidentally stepped on the toy, lost his balance and hit his head so hard that he died. Or maybe she could snap his neck and position him at the base of the stairs with said toy. When he reanimated, so be it. Killing him twice or at least seeing him die twice would be a pleasure. She knew Carl would help her in a heartbeat, so any lifting or carrying of Negan’s body wouldn’t be that bad at all. Actually, Carl might have some ideas on how to do it, too.

“This little one is the cutest little darling I ever did see, I swear. Don’t look much like daddy, though, does she?” Negan suddenly appeared around the corner and in the kitchen, holding Judith in one arm while still managing to hold Lucille in his other hand.

Despite Georgie’s displeasure, she took comfort in that Judith didn’t seem upset.

Maybe that made it worse.

Weren’t children and animals alike, in that they were supposed to sense evil?

“Must look a lot like mommy,” Negan continued, eyeing Georgie and giving her a once over. “And that ain’t you, is it? You look nothing like this little one, either.”

Georgie shook her head. “No, I’m not her mother. I just care for her.”

Throwing a look over his shoulder, Negan eyed Carl, who was trailing behind and seemed just as anxious as Georgie about Negan holding Judith. “Her mom must be your mom, then? The one you killed?”

Carl clenched his jaw. “Yes.”

“Who was daddy?” Negan questioned, puckering his lips and giving Judith a kiss on the forehead.

Rick is her father,” Georgie insisted. Genetics be damned, and Negan didn’t deserve any other explanation.

Bringing his attention back to her, Negan nodded, and then settled his eyes upon the pitcher of lemonade. “Ahh, wonderful,” he beamed. “And, is that…did you add ice? Well, ho-ly shit. You are a very gracious host, aren’t you? Very accommodating; I like that. Fuck. Ice. Details like that are important. I can’t remember the last time I had ice in a fucking drink.” Then, looking as if he’d left the oven on back home, he stared at Judith. “Oh, pardon my French, sweetheart. Don’t repeat any of that. Wouldn’t want to piss off daddy.” Chuckling, Negan gestured toward the pitcher. “Why don’t you continue being that gracious host and bring that outside with some cups, won’t you, Georgie? I’d like to enjoy my lemonade on the front porch. C’mon, Carl. Come join me and your sister.”

Georgie watched as Negan walked out the front door with Carl in two; the latter throwing a look of solidarity her way before walking out onto the front porch as well. Not wasting time, Georgie removed two glasses from the cupboard and stacked them one inside the other so that it was easier to carry them in one hand while she carried the pitcher outside as well.

With a burdened sigh, she walked out onto the porch to find Negan settling into one of the two rocking chairs. A third was off to the side, just behind Carl. A small wooden table sat between Negan and Carl, which was where Lucille was propped against while Judith was propped against Negan’s chest. Judging by the way the little girl rested easily against him, she was clearly still tired and would’ve rested anywhere at this point.

At least, that’s what Georgie hoped.

She hoped Judith wasn’t taking an immediate liking to Negan.

“Fill up our glasses, doll. And get a sippy cup for Judith here. I think she’d like some lemonade.” Though it was posed as politely as can be, it was still a command.

Taking a deep breath, Georgie walked in front of Negan and set the glasses down. Removing one from the other, she filled the first glass and set it down, then repeated the process with the second glass. Setting the pitcher down between the glasses, her eyes flitted toward Lucille, and how she’d love to grab at it and whack him over the head, but he was holding Judith and couldn’t put the little girl in danger like that. So, Georgie went back into the house, found a clean sippy cup and brought it outside to fill it up as well.

“Thank you kindly,” Negan remarked with a smile, watching the way Georgie step aside and kept her gaze primarily focused on Judith. “She’s fine, darling. Take a seat. There’s another chair.”

Clenching her jaw, Georgie walked behind Negan’s chair, suddenly very aware of the ache in her right leg as she limped a little to the third rocking chair behind Carl. Sitting down really was a great relief and she was thankful of it, but she was sitting so upright, as if she was ready to jump to her feet at any moment, that there was no way for Negan to tell she was relieved.

Lifting his glass up, Negan brought it to his lips and hesitated; enjoying to cold vapor coming off the bobbing ice in his drink. He smiled and then took hefty gulp. After swallowing it back, he swirled his tongue around his, over his teeth and then set the glass down. Shooting Georgie a look over his shoulder, he grinned. “That was refreshing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied quietly.

Carl was still just sitting there in silence, having not touched his own lemonade yet, and with his chair turned so his lone eye could better watch Negan with his sister.

Negan began to hum. “Oh, this little girl is precious,” he muttered, as an Alexandrian came walking between the main house and the one next door, and looking confused at why Negan was there, holding Judith. Negan, spotting the man, nodded politely to him. “Hey, neighbor,” he waved. “Why don’t you come by later? We might grill out.” With a chuckle, he returned his hand to Judith’s back, holding her there. “Oh, I like it here. Mm-hmm. I might just have to stay here. You know, I was thinking about what you said earlier, Carl. Maybe it is stupid keeping you and your dad alive.” Shifting Judith around in his lap, he lifted her up and sat her on his knee, bouncing her slightly, as he spoke in a way that made it look like he was directing the conversation to her instead of her big brother. “I mean, why am I trying so hard? Maybe I should just bury you both down in one of those flower beds. Huh? And then I could just settle into the suburbs. What do you think about that?” Negan chuckled and leaned in toward Judith’s face; brushing his nose against hers before planting a kiss on her forehead.

Over my dead body, Georgie thought. Better yet: over yours.

Notes

Comments

Completely understand. Thank you for sharing your talent with us all. Looking forward to your new story updates on Road Not Taken and the sequel to We Can Change.

Grimesgirl63 Grimesgirl63
1/7/19

Thanks for the update today!

Grimesgirl63 Grimesgirl63
8/26/18

Sorry to hear about your aunt.

Grimesgirl63 Grimesgirl63
3/31/18

Thanks for the update today!

Grimesgirl63 Grimesgirl63
7/29/17

Nicely done!!!

Grimesgirl63 Grimesgirl63
1/30/17