"𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞„

twenty eight, 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀

"Hmm? We don't know each other." He stated finally, slapping his hands on the wood of his grand desk. Carl scowled at the man, as the others did the same. Atleast negan was a good leader. This guy just sucks. He thought.

"I owe you nothing. In fact, you owe me for taking in the refugees, at great personal risk." He said, looking proud. Completely rejecting her hate for speeches, Jane felt like talking some sense into him right about now. Actually, she felt like knocking some sense into him with her solid fist.

"Oh, you were very brave staying in here while Maggie and Sasha saved this place. Your courage was inspiring." Jesus said, doing air quotes with his gloved hands. Jane had become quite fond of Jesus, and his act of protest was currently solidifying that. She still felt a little bad for laughing when he told her his name.

"Hey, don't you work for me? Aren't we friends?" The old man asked, putting on a pouty face that Jane was sure she'd see in her nightmares.

"Gregory, we already started this." Jesus replied, brushing his long hair back behind his beanie.

"You started it."

"We did. And we're gonna win." Rick said, placing his hands on his hips and staring Gregory down. No one was sure why Gregory was being like this, because if Rick Grimes ever stared at any of them that threateningly, they'd be right behind him. That wasn't to give Gregory any credit, though, because he was still as cowardly as he had always been.

"These are killers. Is this how you want to live? Under their thumb, killing your people?" Rick continued, shaking his head.

"Sometimes we don't get to choose what our life looks like. Sometimes, Ricky, you have to count the blessings you have."  Something about his tone was so insulting. He spoke with confidence that he didn't have, looking at the group like they were kids just going into first grade.

"How many people can we spare? How many people here can fight?" Maggie demanded rather than asked this, her hands placed together neatly behind her back.

"We"?" He scoffed, "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 got. They grow things. They're not gonna want to fight."

And now, he was laughing. Laughing at them, though he had no right.

"You're wrong. When people have the chance to do
the right thing, they usually step up." Tara said, as he continued to laugh a little more. Though Jane didn't exactly agree with Tara's statement, she appreciated the fight that Tara had in her. "I mean, people just-"

"L-let me stop you before you break into song,
okay?" He declared, cutting her off.

"You'll die either way. Soon, this place will be gone, just like everything always is. What's an old prick like you going to do about it?"

Finally, he was silenced. So Jane continued.

"You're going to sit here, too scared to get your hands dirty, watching everyone else fight a losing battle. Then you'll die. We can help you and your people. Or we can leave you to rot." Carl and Daryl watched intently as she spoke, intrigued in her point. She was right - of course she was. Carl felt almost proud of her, but not in an achievement kinda way - in a 'I want to show you off to everyone as my girlfriend because you're the coolest person I've ever met' kinda way.