↳ we aren't who we were anymore...
oc x carl grimes
season 7-8 (sequel to who we were)
TW: Depression, thoughts of suicide, use of drugs/alcohol, use of tobacco, detailed gore, use of weapons, death, and mentions/suggestions of assault.
DISCLAIMER:...
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It's not until I'm standing in Gregory's office that I realize how much I can truly hate a person for such selfishness, especially in a time like this where we are searching for the greatest good for all.
I press my hands against the frame of the neatly embroidered chair in front of me so I don't fall over since I'm still not sure about how sturdy my legs are, but I can also feel the sensation of my nails digging themselves into the smooth wood before I can stop myself. However, as Gregory continues his speech, I find that I don't particularly care what sort of damage I do to his belongings.
"No! No way in hell," Gregory says as he paces the room. "That was not the deal. 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, and we never met. Hmm? We don't know each other." As he sinks into his intricately carved chair, Gregory seems to think that those simple words were enough to pacify us, but they aren't because the rest of us standing there, silently waiting. "In fact, you owe me for taking in the refugees, at great personal risk."
"Oh, you were very brave staying in here while Maggie and Sasha saved the place. Your courage was inspiring," Jesus comments. I don't know what he's talking about, not sure what the Kingdom had needed saving from, but whatever it was, it just furthers the point that Gregory doesn't deserve to simply dismiss our ideas.
"Hey, don't you work for me?" Gregory condescendingly shoots back. "Aren't we friends?"
"Gregory, we already started this," Rick says.
"You started it.
"We did. And we're gonna win."
"These are killers."
"Is this how you want to live? Under their thumb, killing your people?"
"S-Sometimes, we don't get to choose what our life looks like. Sometimes, Ricky, you have to count the blessings you have."
"But sometimes, you have to realize how bad of a situation you're in and how the life you could have is worth fighting for," I say.
Gregory's eyebrows contort as his cowardice eyes look at me. "And when did you become the person in charge, Emma?" I roll my eyes, shifting backwards.
"How many people can we spare? How many people can fight?" Maggie asks.
"We? I don't even know how many people we have, Margaret. And does it even matter? I mean . . . w-w-what are you gonna do? Start a platoon of sorghum farmers? 'Cause that's what we've got. They grow things. They're not gonna want to fight."
