XXXIII.

It was before the dawn Amanda heard the sounds from outside. She was awake, laying in the bed with Judith, her hand gently touching at her baby angel stomach to give her courage. There was no sleep was for tonight, of course, not when Rick was outside there, fighting. But at least she wasn't alone. She turned on her side further toward Judith and caressed her soft hair, feeling emotions awakening in her again, her eyes watering.

She had done what she could've done. She had tried. They'd returned from the chemical plant a few hours ago, Amanda directly going to Judith again and had gone to the bed with the baby. She'd told Laura to come to Hilltop to find them if the woman believed there was another way before they'd left. They'd heard Rick's voice through the speakers. The woman had done it. The ball had started running. The rest they would see. She figured at the morning she was going to have to leave for the old mansion and inform Rick. She had no idea what he was going to say once he learned, how much he was going to be furious because how much she'd risked it, but she had done what she had had to.

Her hand caressed Judith's hair again as her other hand touched at her stomach. No. Her children had to live better than they had had to, have better than them. They owed it to them. The clamor came from outside as she caressed Judith's hair, her fingers still at her stomach. Her head snapped up, she listened to the outside and heard the shouts. She jolted up at her feet as Beth did the same across from her.

When they'd come back, they'd decided to stay in the same cabin as they both hadn't wanted to stay alone when the men they loved out there, and Beth had made herself a bedroll at the floor across the cot where Amanda had lay down with Judith.

"What's that?" Beth asked, turning aside as Amanda grabbed her gun with the holster from the nightstand beside the low bed, and clinched it over her hips, the sounds from outside grew louder, having much more of a clamor.

She shook her head, "I don't know—" Bending down, she started wearing her boots quickly, both Beth and see without another word had gone to bed with their clothes last night on an unspoken understand, only taking off their boots. They started doing the same as well after tucking her own gun. Amanda opened the door to understand what was happening, to see if she needed to take Judith along or they could leave her baby in the cabin. She took a few steps from the door, into the little pathway out the main street in front of their cabin, her eyes wandering around to search the perimeters.

To her left side, she could see the community hall and in front of there was a crowd gathered. She narrowed her eyes, squinting, then over the distance she picked up Rick's profile in the middle of it, standing beside Carl and Daryl.

From behind, Beth walked to her, "Is that them?" the younger woman asked, a frown in her voice, "Why did they return here?"

And Amanda felt it. Something had happened. They were supposed to fall back to Hilltop after the assault. But they hadn't, so something must've happened.

She started walking to the crowd quickly, Beth following her. Whatever had happened, it was okay, she told herself. Rick had come back. Carl had come back. Daryl had come back. Perhaps it was bad enough that they had chosen to return, but it was also okay. They'd come back.

But—

Her pace fastened, she almost started running, and getting closer, her eyes caught Rick better—and saw a bundle in his arms… a small bundle… something he held close to his chest, in a way he'd kept Judith to his chest… She froze in front of him, "Rick?" she breathed out.

Suddenly everything was in silence. She felt all eyes on her, but Amanda could only look at the bundle in his arms, wrapped in a dark cloth. Rick lifted his head up, and looked at her… Her eyes watered, "Rick…" No… No… No… Please, no.

Rick walked to her, his eyes on hers as hers still stayed fixated on the little bundle… "I—" Rick muttered out…

She shook her head, "Is it—is it—?" she stopped, couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't say it aloud.

His eyes stayed on her, too, in answer, then a cry came out from the bundle before he could say anything, and Amanda almost dropped on her knees.

# # #

"She—she was in the office complex—" Rick told her as Amanda put the baby into the cot—the baby Rick had made an orphan with his own hands, "Her name is Gracie."

Amanda hadn't stayed anything, just looked at the little baby girl. "Such a nice name…" she whispered, shaking her head, and Rick could hear tears in her tone even though he didn't see her face. He imagined how Amanda must be feeling now, understanding that her husband had left a baby girl an orphan like herself, taking her away from her family, he imagined how it must be Carl for now if the man had killed Rick instead… She turned back, and looked at him… "What happened, Rick?"

What happened, Rick? the question echoed in his mind over the static… What happened, Rick?

How he'd come to this?

"I found this office searching for the armory," he tried to explain, lowering himself on the low bed, and sat, "There was this man—attacked me before I checked the room. He was protecting it. Fighting—" he said, bowing his head as Amanda just looked at him in silence, watching him—listening his words. He propped on his wrists over his knees, and went on, "I thought it was the armory. I raked the wall with gunfire before, too. He dodged away, and I was low on ammo. We started fighting. Killed him. Then instead of guns, I found Gracie." He lifted his head, "Above her cot—above her cot was raked with bullets. Two inches above the most."

She gasped on a breath silently, her lips trembling with her chin as she fought with her tears. Shaking his head, Rick bowed it again. "I—I didn't ask for it, Amanda… I didn't."

The guilt was there, though, like always, heavy on his shoulders, heavy on his chest, squeezing him, pushing him down in the earth… He hadn't asked for this, but that was what had happened—almost killing a baby… Two inches above, and he would've killed one of the most innocent things left in this fucked up world…

"But that was what you wanted, huh?" Amanda asked back, her voice cold and dry as winter wind, "Not a pipe dream…as real as the world we live in."

His head snapped up at her, he held her look, "I can't change the world, Amanda," he told her back, "This's us, too." Even before the turn, death and war had been always them, too.

But she lunged forward, and knelt between his legs and took his face between her hands, "But this's not you—" she said, shaking her head, "You're not a man who would kill a baby, accidental or not. That's not you, Rick," she told him, her moist eyes burning as fierce as her voice, "You're not the man who can change it, but who can make a difference." Their eyes locked, Rick stared at her, her hands still on his cheeks, "Baby, you don't have to change the world, you don't have to break any wheel, either. You're just a man, I know it. And it's okay." She paused, moving herself even closer to him, and touched his forehead with hers, "We don't need heroes who are lost in their own delusions. We need people like you…people who can make a difference, a little difference to make it a bit better. For all of us. For our children, and their own children."

Her words pausing, she took an inch back from him to look at him directly in the eyes, "So, make it happen, Rick," she demanded from him fiercely, "That's you. You're not a hero. You're a builder. Like your father before you, like your grandfather… Just do what you always do, baby. Keep us together. We're not that far gone yet." Hearing the worlds made his last resolves crumbling before she said for the last, "We're still here."

Grabbing her at her upper arms, Rick pulled her back at himself and crashed his lips on hers.

Barely making any noises aside from low rasps and low moans as the babies slept in the cabin, Rick fucked her slowly, taking every moment, every second, every breadth with it, burying himself in her belief, basking in it. Their foreheads touching, their eyes glued, their bodies tangled, they watched each other in silence as they moved together with unspoken rhythm, no words needed anymore, they just had to share it, the moment, the feeling… they had to feel it.

She was still here, in his arms, under him, wrapped around him, looking at him as Rick moved over her in and out, two babies sleeping beside them, their babies in her belly. He was just a man, and it was enough. They weren't that far gone yet. They were still here.

# # #

Between his arms she lay sprawled out over his chest, her bump against his side, snuggling where she belonged, feeling spent but relieved, a similar kind of emancipation coursing through her whenever they experienced something like this, a sort of experience that built something between them, invisible bonds connecting them…binding them at each other. She hadn't been bounded, but she had felt nothing could've bound her tighter to him than his eyes on her, holding her captive as he moved slowly inside her.

Her orgasm hadn't as powerful as the ones he'd given her before when he'd been rocking her world upside down, fucking her brains out, but emotions… the connection, it was everything, everything she'd wanted, needed…two people being a whole.

She'd been so afraid when she'd understood what had happened, seeing the baby in his arms, and his confession later… Two inches above the most... She shivered slightly again, pushing away the thoughts—what ifs… What if Rick had killed the little baby slept now in the cot with Judith… The thought was so awful to think, it almost brought tears to her eyes again. No. Rick wasn't that man. They weren't that far gone yet. They—Laura… she remembered then. God. She hadn't still told him about Laura.

In silence, his fingers were small circles over her shoulder blades, his fingertips gently touching at her skin, and she lifted her head up, "Rick—" but he cut her off.

"I'll talk to Cyndie tomorrow," he told her, his voice thoughtful as much as his expression, contemplative, "They're either with us or not, but it can't go on like this—" He paused for a second, "Then we'll find this Laura."

She closed her eyes for a second before she breathed out, "Um…we don't need to. I—I already talked to her tonight."

…And he stared at her, his eyebrows drawing in, his pensive look turning to wary, "Amanda—" he rasped at her, tilting his head down closer, "Don't tell me you did it!"

"I—I had to do something—" she said back, "I—I just couldn't." She paused, "Frankie put us in," she started, but Rick cut her off again.

"Us?"

"Beth came with me, too. Frankie took us in as Mark and others created a confusion at the other side of the outpost. We found Laura, talked. I—gave her the tape, and told her just listen to it, and make her people listen to it if she thinks it's worth it." She paused, rising her eyes at him again, "And she did, Rick. As we escaped, I heard you speaking through the speakers."

Rick let out a sigh, "Amanda, you—you're pregnant. It was too dangerous."

She nodded, "I know. But…I couldn't let it happen, Rick. I'm sorry. I thought it was worth it. I had to take the risk, for our children." She paused, still looking at him, and let out a breath, "I—believed—something would protect me, the babies."

His eyes were skeptical, but she shook her head, "I can't explain, Rick. I just…felt it."

He looked at her in silence, didn't say anything, and Amanda rested her head back at his chest. "I prayed for it." And her prayers had been answered. She lifted her eyes back at him, "Do you ever pray, Rick?"

He shook his head, "No."

"I used to pray every day when I was a child—pray to be somewhere else…someone else…" she said, swallowing through a lump in her throat, "then one day stopped, thought even if God exists, he doesn't give a shit…so why I should have?" She smiled, almost tied, understanding again how much she'd made herself forget, "I prayed the first time in long years after I broke up with you. I prayed you'd forgive me." Her voice broke as her voice faltered, "I—I was so afraid you wouldn't want me back."

Amanda felt his lips brushing over her hair, "Like it would've ever happened," he told her softly, then his hand found her chin and lifted her head up at him again. Despite his soft tone though the look he gave her was stern, "Amanda, I know how you feel…but promise me, you would never do such a thing again," he demanded, "It's dangerous. What if you got caught? What if something happened to you or to the babies?"

She nodded, "I know. I just—Rick, I feel the same, too, every time you go out there without me. We—have to deal with it. The woman—Laura…she accepted listening to me when I told her I was pregnant, when I told her I came to talk to her, risking everything. She understood what I meant it. I told her to find us at Hilltop if she wants to talk. I gave her an ID challenge. I have to be there if she comes." She paused again, "She will, Rick. She will come. She put it on the speakers."

Rick nodded back at her, "Okay," he slowly said, "I'll talk to Cyndie in the morning, then we'll go to Hilltop. Then we'll see."

Amanda flickered her eyes towards the cabin's narrow window, pale sunlight slowly breaking over the greyness. A new day had started.

She returned to Rick again, and leaning upward, she kissed him briefly on the lips, "We'll do it. Together." It was there, strongly coursing in her blood, she believed it. She believed in him, always him, the answer to her every prayer.

# # #

"Last night I almost killed a baby—" Rick told the women circled him a few hours later in the community hall, "Instead I only left a baby girl an orphan in this awful world." He swallowed through his tight throat, his voice scratching, "This's war. This's what happens if we go after revenge, and it'll only get worse if we follow this path." If they followed it, the next time, they might have buried a little baby at the shore. No. He raised his arm and pointed it at Cyndie, "That's not me. That's not you, Cyndie—" He turned to Amanda, pointing the baby girl in her arms, "We're not these people. We're not that far gone away," he repeated, in his mind both Hershel and Amanda talking to him, "Not yet."

Cyndie looked at him, her eyes thoughtful as if indecision, but she didn't speak aloud, "Last night Amanda found Laura. We might find a comprise. We expect her at Hilltop. I'm going to Hilltop. I'll talk to her. Come with me."

Gracie made a wheezing sound between Amanda's arms, and she hushed the baby, rocking her at her chest, and Cyndie's eyes moved to her, Amanda swinging the baby in her embrace, and like she'd assumed, the scene finally brought the younger woman, and Cyndie nodded.

"Okay, Rick Grimes, you won—" the woman said, "We'll come. But I still want your promise. There will be no peace with Simon."

Rick nodded, "He will answer the crimes he committed against you. I swear."

# # #

Bending down, Amanda kissed Judith's hair gently, giving her to Donna, the old lady who liked to take care of children with her husband when they were away. Judith made a whining protest, trembling her lips with a long mommiee, and she leaned down to kiss her again, "Mommy will come back, sweetheart," she told her baby angel, "Be a good girl, 'kay?" She pushed away her fringes over her forehead, "My smart girl…"

She then turned away to Gracie. The little baby girl must be around six months, even smaller than Judith—and she felt her heart tightening again looking at her. She bent down and kissed her forehead, too, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, little angel. We'll make everything right," she whispered at the baby girl, "I promise."

She turned, gulping down her tears, and started walking away. They—they had to find a family for the little girl. They couldn't leave her like this. She—she thought of taking care of the baby, but she didn't know how Rick would've felt—knowing what he'd done…and later, when Gracie had grown up, what they'd told her? Sorry, baby, your father had killed your real father looking for guns, sorry?

No. they—they couldn't do it. They had to find another way.

She found Rick in front of the community hall with Carl, waiting everyone got ready. "Did you give them?"

Amanda nodded. "Yes," she answered, looking around, "Are we ready?"

"We move in ten minutes," Rick said back, "Daryl left to gather Jadis and her people to Hilltop, too. Richard must've already fallen back to Hilltop. So yeah, we're ready."

Nodding, she held his hand, "You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah. We're doing it," he told her back, squeezing her hand, "Together."

# # #

Once they arrived to the old mansion, Rick sent scouts and forerunners in the woods to warn them against any approaching groups at the first thing as they knew even though Laura might decide not to come, Simon would still come for retaliation for the last night.

Over the wooden table that had left from the sacking of the town, the maps were laid out, the situation of their forces marked around the Hilltops. They were making perimeter checks non-stop, the watchtowers holding guards at the posts.

Amanda had put on a steel-and-copper breastplate the Kingdom's blacksmith had managed to work on from the metals they'd taken from the Junkyard. It was an odd thing, enlarging over her bump, protecting her belly, some parts of the metal colored orange, some parts Inox, but she was glad for the little addition of safety.

Rick had ordered then the armors had disturbed to the women first as the rest of the materials had been used to make barricades at the vehicles. Each group of their joined forces was wearing armbands in different colors, white for Alexandria, green for Hilltop, red for Kingdom, blue for Oceanside, and brown for Scavengers, as the Junkyard people liked to call themselves.

All things considered, they really looked like a Militia, of an Alliance. When this all was finished, Amanda realized they was going to need to sit down and made a pact, write down some ground rules, even finish their own constitution, they'd started but things had happened.

That was what they had to deal with, not with war. That what Rick had to deal with, building. He was a builder, a carpenter, like his father, building—making things with his hands, creating a better world for them. For their children. She tried to remember the famous quote of the founding fathers, I must study with war and politics so my children and their children would study painting, poetry, music.

She was going to deal with politics, Rick was going to deal with war, so then their children would have painting, poetry, music. They could not break any wheel, they could not change the world, they had never had big ambitions.

The call they'd been waiting came before the sun set down in the west. Amanda had been sitting in the chair in front of the table in the empty study, where the radio was set over the maps. Rick was seated across her at the other side as he'd come back from his last perimeter check. Daryl had gone out to the woods to manage the scouts with Michonne and Scout. Beth was with them along with Maggie, Ethan, Richard, Jerry, Jadis, her own two right-hand, and with Cyndie and Beatrice.

All leaders of their coalition, waiting. At first, Amanda thought again Daryl was checking in, but the voice coming from the radio wasn't a male one, but a female, and it called her name out, "Amanda—?" she heard it over the static, "Do you copy?"

She snapped her head up at Rick and they shared a glance with each other as all looks turned to them, and then Amanda lunged forward, and took the radio. "Yes. You came."

There was a brief pause from the other side, and the woman said, "Yes. We did. I'm with Gavin—" the woman continued, "We want to talk. We saw your scouts. We need a stand down, a rendezvous point."

Amanda lifted her eyes again toward Rick.

Richard said, "He's the leader of our outpost—" the taciturn man said, "He—he always respected Ezekiel."

Rick nodded, and gestured at her, "Call for the ID challenge."

She brought the radio up. "We need to do ID challenge," she told to the woman, and stated, "Blueberry."

The ID challenges were the standard basics for any comprising situation to make certain if the person at the other end was under duress or not while being in contact. Amanda had told to the woman to answer as Montana if everything was okay, and Pearl if she was under duress.

Another brief pause, and the radio cracked again, and she said, "Montana."

Amanda looked at Rick again after it. "Tell her our people will stand down and we'll let them pass through. Their group will have to stand down as well. We'll escort them to Hilltop. They can only bring three guards."

Amanda shook her head, "Rick, they won't accept to come in—"

"You went to their outpost even with lesser odds," he said back sternly, "If we do this, they need to risk it, too, like we did."

Amanda let out a sigh, and pushed on the button, bringing the radio back to her lips, "We stand down. Our people will escort you in. You can bring three of your people with you with Gavin."

"No—" the reply came fast, "We meet in a neutral zone in the woods. We're not coming in."

"Laura, you need to—" Amanda told her back, "You need to trust us. Like I did. Please. Come in."

The next time radio cracked, instead of Laura, a male voice spoke, "This's Gavin speaking. I want to talk with Rick Grimes."

As her eyes found Rick's again, Rick raised his hand for the radio. Amanda handed it to him, "This's Rick Grimes," he called in.

"I heard your tape," the man said in return, and demanded, "They say you're a man of your words. You spoke of another path last night through our speakers, but we learned this morning you attacked at another outpost. Why?"

His jaw setting, Rick made a little swallow, and brought the radio up, "We all suffered at your hands, lost people. Women watched their husbands slaughtered. I watched my friend get beaten to death. My wife—my pregnant wife got tortured. And you all watched it happen. A part of me still wants to kill you," he told the man plainly, without a flinch, "Want to kill all of you, in the most horrible ways, and I'm not the only one. I attacked because even if there might be another path, I thought we would've never found it. So, I attacked. Then another thing happened. I attacked and almost killed a baby last night."

There was a sudden silence in the room, and Rick pushed at the talk button again, "I'm prepared to do what's necessary for my people, for my children, but I don't—I don't want to do it. My only enemy—only—is the dead."

"Do you swear you'll give us safe return if we don't reach an…agreement?"

"If you choose to come, you'll be under the peace banner," Rick said back quickly, "I give you my word."

"Understood. We accept. Tell your man to stand down and find us," the man agreed as Amanda let out a breath that she wasn't aware she had been holding. The leader of the outpost started giving his coordinates, and Rick closed the connection saying they would send escorts in a few minutes.

# # #

Laura, Gavin, and their three men stood in the study less than a half hour.

"Gracie—" the muscled, tall man, Gavin, asked directly, "Is she with you?"

Rick nodded, "She's okay, but she's not here."

"We want her back," Laura said, turning to Amanda, "She belongs with us."

Rick frowned. He wasn't sure if he was okay with letting the baby with them, but they were also right. Gracie was one of them, and Rick—Rick had killed her father. He wished there had been a way to take everything back, but he was going to have to live with it, accept it, but he wasn't going to let her go before he knew the Sanctuary was a place for a baby.

"After we settle everything, you can take her back. Until then, she will stay with us," he answered, "She's safe. We'll keep her safe. I promise."

The brunette woman opened her mouth again, but Gavin stopped her raising his hand. "After we settle everything—" the man repeated his words, "What's your plan? What do you aim for? Your words at the tape were all good and nice, how do you do it?" he asked, narrowing his eyes, "You must've realized Simon would never agree with this."

Rick shook his head, "We're not talking with Simon," he shot back, "We're talking with you. Simon, Negan…they're all the same. Exploiting weakness and fear. We make no peace with them. Simon will answer the crimes he committed. My people need to see it. We don't look for revenge, but we want justice."

Gavin nodded in agreement, "We don't Simon, either, but the rest—what will happen then?" he demanded, "We'll bury our war axes and dance together in front of fire hand to hand?"

Rick gave the man a stern look, his jaw throbbing, "We draw lines—" He gestured the table with his head, walking closer to it, he tapped at Sanctuary with his forefinger, "You'll have to the northern side, but won't come down to south." He moved his finger over a river that cut the lands, "That's gonna be our border," he explained further, laying out the perimeters. Making borders hadn't worked out with Governor, but these people looked more reachable and reasonable than that psychopath. They couldn't do this with Simon, or Negan, or Governor, but they could do it with these people. They had to. Rick hadn't been lying when he'd spoken to them over them. He was prepared, but he didn't want to do it. They weren't that far gone yet. Not them, not these people.

"We won't cross it without permission," Rick went on. Even though they weren't that far gone, this was still going to be hard, keeping the peace was going to be as hard as maintain it, so it was the best option, everyone living its own land, "The upside belongs to you, the downside belongs to us." He then tapped at the east, towards D.C., "Here's free zone."

"And river?" Gavin asked.

"We can both use it—put up an outpost to manage the border at each bank."

"Hmm—" the big man nodded, "It might work."

Rick shook his bowed head over the map and his eyes finding the man, "It has to work," he grated out at the man, stressing the words, "The only alternative we have is the last night."

The man's jaw squared, but he nodded curtly. "I know. Simon. How we deal with him?"

"We'll—" Rick started, but Amanda cut him in, walking to his side,

"No, we won't get involved. You deal with him, and his supporters. If we get involved, it might backfire us. Simon would try to use it to gather support, using us a figure to rally your people. We shouldn't give him any chance. This's your inside work. You need to take care of it."

Rick saw her point, but the man arched an eyebrow at her, "And then we give him then to you?"

"We want to see him dead," she said calmly, "It's not like we're gonna put him in front of a jury." She turned to Cyndie, "Are you okay with it?"

The young woman's expression stiffened, "I want to take his life with my own hands."

"Cyndie—" Amanda said, breathing out, closing her eyes for a second.

"Fine—" the younger woman snapped, "But I want his head."

She turned to the Saviors, "Fine, we'll try—" Gavin agreed, they all fell in a silence.

Rick coughed a little in the silence, "Well, then. We'll be in contact. How to fare. We need to act quick—" Rick went on, but his words got cut by a sudden crack from the radio, and he heard Daryl's familiar heavy accent.

"Rick—" his friend called in, the urgency clear and loud in his tone, "Rick, do you copy?"

Turning aside to the table, Rick grabbed the radio. He pushed on the talk button, "Talk to me," he rasped out at the walkie.

"We're falling back—" Daryl answered breathless, as if he was running, "The Saviors—they've come."

Their heads snapped at the group standing in the middle of the room, "Gavin's group retreating with us, too—" Daryl then said, "Simon—he's circling us."

So, we have Simon at Hilltop, finally for the finale battle. I'm gonna wrap the war with Saviors soon enough, as Rick starts building his better world, trying to keep things at balance between his people and Saviors, and Amanda enjoying her pregnancy :)

I don't know how further I'll keep this story go on now, because I feel like their story is coming to an end, there's still this helicopter group but character wise both Rick and Amanda established themselves pretty nicely, so I'm thinking wrapping this story and start a new one in earlier seasons. Amanda's character, her background etc is still gonna be the same. I want to explore how they might grow out if they met in different times in the canon.

I have a couple of ideas, three ideas to be specific, and I put a poll in my profile to ask you which one of them you'd like to read more. Vote or tell me in a review, if you have a preference. I'm more inclined myself to one, but I don't know. I haven't decided yet.