can't help falling||c.g DISCONTINUED

fifty one

"We took the outpost bit by bit. We thought we'd won. We were gathered up in the open when they ambushed us. It was over in seconds.
Ezekiel, Jerry, and me, we're the only ones who made it back," I finished reading. It was upsetting to hear this. The Hilltop has very few casualties, and the kingdom was suffering a huge loss.

The last one held the news of how Alexandria was holding up our end of the plan. We all silently read;

"The plan is working. We're doing this. We're winning. We had a hard fight. We lost people, brave people who gave their lives to make sure we won. By the time it was over, there weren't any Saviors left standing. All of it, it's scarier than I thought it'd be, but we're doing it.

"We have to. Sasha was first, and now the's been more. The sacrifices are real. We need to make it right for them. The rest of the plan's still a go. We're moving on to the next step. I'm headed there now. The Sanctuary's still surrounded. They're trapped, cut off from their supplies. Every hour that goes by, we're making them weaker.

"The lookouts are all around the compound. They open a door, we fire. But if they open a door, seems like they'd have bigger problems. We meet at Sanctuary in two days to end this, to win it all. It's not like we haven't fought before. We fought every step of the way to this place, to this moment. The path has led us here, to who we are, to each other, to now. And we're so close. This can be our last fight," was how the last letter finished.

Michonne silently folded the papers and slipped them into her pocket. I'm sure they both had so many questions, but we were all distracted by the bodies being prepared for a proper burial. The losses could have been worse, but that didn't make it any easier.

By this time, I was sure Rick had given the pictures to the other leaders, and everyone was on the same page. Even with some minor setbacks, the plan was still in pursuit.

Carl and I began to walk off towards our house, and I breathed in the familiar scent of home. Carl looked at me with a smile and started giving me quick kisses on the neck.

"Not now, Carl. I'm dirty, and we have a war to win!" I squealed as he gave me one last kiss on the cheek.

"Come down after you're ready. There's something I want to do."

***

I came downstairs with a clean t-shirt and jeans, feeling a lot better than when I had gotten home.

I could hear rustling from downstairs, and someone was stumbling around, along with music softly playing. Taking precautions, I pulled my gun from my newly attached holster.

Taking the safety off, I quietly scampered down the stairs, turning the corner and docking my gun. At the sound of that, someone turned around, and it was Carl. That hair was recognizable from anywhere.

Instead of wearing his usual flannel, he was shirtless and didn't have his hat on.

"Jesus, Carl. I almost shot you," I breathed, holstering my gun.

He looked up, finishing packing food and water into his backpack, giving me a quick smile.

"And why are you shirtless?" I asked with a laugh, walking over to him. He zipped up his bag, pulling another shirt as he was about to put it on.

"My other one was dirty," he replied, about to put on a clean one.

"Wait!" I yelled abruptly, putting my hands up.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked carefully.

I gave him a cheeky smirk, and he quickly caught on. Inching his face towards mine, he purposely teased the hell out of me.