𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 | Daryl Dixon

65 | RICK GRIMES ON TRIAL

Walls, however strong, can only keep one safe if they stay inside. Maybe the group had become settled in their past few days of being in Alexandria. Maybe they forgot, just for a little while, that the world they suffered through still existed. Just outside of their big, beautiful homes, and heavy steel gates. Just for a moment, they got carried away with the feeling of safety. They nearly forgot that not everyone who goes out to no-mans-land returns to the trenches.

The beauty held within the simple street view was tarnished on this night. The losses weighing down on the night, dulling the silver moonlight reflecting off of the crescent shape in the navy sky.

Deanna's youngest son, Aiden. And the group's own Noah Cruz. A simple run to a warehouse went bad, claiming the two lives within minutes of each other.

The weight of the seventeen-year-old's death was heavy in everyone's hearts. Outside, she sat on the porch swing, the chain squeaking as she slowly swung back and forth. Her arm rested around Carl's shoulders, the teen resting his head against her. The candlelight from the lantern hanging beside the door cast a hot glow above her head, and she closed her eyes. They stung with a prickling warmth, tears building up before she buried them back down.

Noah was so young, and such a kind soul. He never gave up hope, even after losing so much. His home, his parents, his brothers, and Beth. He wanted to keep going for all of them. He deserved to have lived. He should have lived.

Tori's heavy eyes cast along the street in the direction of Deanna's house. Jake was in there, sitting with his family as they mourned the loss of Aiden. He'd frozen up when Glenn and the others returned with the news, the devastation hitting him so hard, he couldn't react. He didn't cry or yell, just took a swift turn and went straight to his house, where he'd been hiding all night.

"What do you think he's saying?" Carl asked beside her. His voice was quiet, but it still startled her. She'd thought he was asleep.

A heavy sigh left her lips, and she shook her head. "I don't know."

Across at the next house, Rick sat across from Glenn on the porch. The younger man was shaking, blood still staining his face, his arms. His hands trembled as he recalled to Rick the events that led to the deaths, and to Tara being in the infirmary with a hard hit to her head, from which she was yet to wake up. With Daryl out of town as well, it was beginning to feel like their tight-knit group was coming apart at the seams. Tori started to wonder how many more tests they could handle before the stitches tore apart altogether.

So much had happened in the span of the day, and she feared that Rick would take it all as a sign. A sign that he'd been right all along – that they needed to be the ones running things in this town.

Tori rubbed her hand up and down Carl's shoulder, "It's late, you should turn in. I'll tell your dad to come up and see you when he's finished with Glenn."

"Yeah, okay," the teen mumbled tiredly. "Love you." He got up, his eyes drifting across to his father briefly before he headed inside.

"Love you too, kid," Tori said softly, giving him a half smile as he closed the door.

The buckles on Rick's boots rattled as he walked over. He was back in his full uniform, putting on the costume that the Alexandrians wanted to see. Playing the role they wanted him to play. His fist was squeezing the life out of the notebook he carried, the pages creasing, scrunched up in his palm. Her eyes glazed along to the next house over, watching Glenn disappear inside with his head hung heavy like the moon.

Tori stood from the swing, wrapping an arm around the porch post as the sheriff ascended the steps. He looked tired, his eyes misty and puffy. "Is Glenn alright?" Tori asked.