EPISODE FOURTEEN
"my name from her mouth"
SEASON 8
｡°⚠︎°｡ 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹
RICK GRIMES
how does it work? in between the time the sun rises and sets hours later, who or what decides who's going to make it to see the stars and moon hang overhead once more?
yesterday, the dead infiltrated the areas our legions were in within 100 minutes of the excursion. word was sent through the radios to retreat to the nearest dock for evacuation from the city and back to the blocks. upon retrieving drew maddison's body from the alleyway i sat with him in, they found his radio to be defective, only allowing communication to go out and everything coming in went unheard.
essentially, drew and i were cut off from the rest, never hearing the warning to retreat from the herd coming forth. the broken walkie talkie flew under inspection before our departure into the city and cost the guard his life. the last legion to leave, F3, rick's legion, heard my last attempt of calling for help when i switched the channel on the radio to reach outside of my own legion.
bad things happened yesterday, but good things happened too and i keep wondering if for some reason ... did the bad things have to happen in order for the good to happen? is any of it even good at all if people die?
i guess it has to do with perspective. i guess to others, yesterday was the worst day of their lives. for me and rick, bad things happened, but it was also a good day.
i don't know how it works, who or what decides which lives will be taken in the span of twenty four hours. i don't know which day will be my last to watch the sun rise and set, but until then, each time i watch the moon before i fall asleep, i guess i'll say it's been a good day.
i glance up at her, away from the book i hold in my hands that has the ink of her writing. her brown eyes are a molten, golden honey as she looks into the fire that's between us. a breeze drifts down the dry culvert we're taking shelter in for the night and she wraps her arms around herself, not looking at me, thinking i'm still reading what she wrote.
◌
"you never had anything to run from. if you just talked to us ... jensen was right about what he told you," a glance at grey. "we don't normally let people leave the colony once they're residents here, it's stupid and dangerous, but your situation is different. most people we save don't have a group, or if they do they're with them and they come along."
we sat in a room with ben and jensen barnes and a few other men this morning, discussing what happened during the excursion and telling them the truth—that grey came looking for me, that we have a group out there that's been separated and we need to go find them, alone.
"understand that good people still exist. the world fell but not every good man fell with it." ben outstretched his hand, a set of keys pinched between his thumb and forefinger. "take one of our cars, extra gasoline, it'll get you far enough that before it even runs out you'll know what to do next. take a radio to call us for help ... if you need—want it. or when you find your people ... call for us, give us a head count and we'll come. we'll fly out and bring you all back here. no extra cost." he smiled at the last part.
"as for the dead you saw climb over fences and try to kill you with a rock," a few glances around the room. "we don't know anything about that, never seen anything like it. we'll keep an eye out. you should too."
"why help us when we withheld information from you?" i had asked, running my thumb over the rough edges of the keys i accepted.
ben glanced over his shoulder at his younger brother. jensen dragged his eyes over to me, "because if our parents were fighting to get back to us and someone helped them, we'd owe them thanks for the rest of our lives."
because you're a father—the reason jensen made the deal to help me out in a few years. i knew the barnes brothers spent their teenage years fending for themselves, their parents quite absent from their lives. i knew enough to know to stop by every once and awhile and check in, even if ben answered the door and lied straight to every police officer's face i sent over there; lied to mine.
now for them to help me get back to my kids, something they wish in the back of their minds their parents would've or would do for them; if they're even alive ...
"thank you."
◌
we met someone new today, a girl. carl and rick used to know her before everything. she was out in a house daryl and carl found during their scavenging. she seems nice. i think she'll like it here once she gets to know the place and gets to know us. it's weird at first, living in a prison, but it's the safest place we've been since we left daddy's farm. maybe we'll keep finding people and this place will grow big enough to be like how things used to be, like a neighborhood or a town. we can have holidays. we can celebrate christmas, cut down a tree and make each other presents. judith will keep growing, and maybe maggie and glenn will have a baby in a few years. maybe i'll meet someone. maybe we'll all have someone and we'll all be happy and it'll be like this thing never even happened. i'll keep wishing for things to be like that.
"this is about you." i flatten the book, creasing the spine of it even more. beth wrote this about grey, about all of us in the prison. her handwriting is feminine and small, a bit curly on some letters, and she wrote it in pen.
grey nods, her black pants and jacket from the colony a bit big on her. "daryl gave it to me before i left. he didn't tell me what it was, that it was hers. he had it the whole time after she died, then gave it to maggie once we made it to alexandria. she's had it since but sent it back recently for someone else to read it; to write in it."
and that's what grey did, last night, made her own entry about finding me, about the colony, about the sun and the moon and good days and bad days.
i made her tell me all about them, our family, the entire time we drove in the daylight today—west from the colony, southwest toward virginia, toward our home. i want to see all their faces again, hear all their voices, hug my son and my daughter, hug them all and never let go.
my family.
i laughed when she told me judith's hair is kind of blonde. i told her shane's hair used to be kind of blonde when he was a kid.
she told me judith will start going to day-school soon, maybe next year, and that spencer teaches the kids math. it felt surreal to hear it—my daughter starting kindergarten in a year.
she told me about the birthday party they threw carl this november, for his 21st. she told me how he got drunk, and how happy he looked all night, even into the next morning.
i've missed so much.
she told me about how it's been hard to find food—how she and daryl go out and find nothing, how gas is hard to come by and they've been using our horses to get around, how she lost whiskey on her trip north, looking for me.
she told me it all, and yet ...
"what is it?" the look on her face—there's more. she looks at me from across the fire, the thick, warm flames between us.
"i thought you were dead. i was scared i was gonna go on a hunt for someone i'd never find and i hated that. i couldn't accept it. it's all i thought about everyday; everyday i went back home without you, finding nothing along that river, no sign that you were ever even there, besides your gun—" she told me about that too, how daryl found my gun and she gave it to carl.
"one day, i—it was a bad day. some glass broke and i wondered ... if i ended it ... if that'd somehow be better than feeling what i felt every day. even if it hurt the people who care about me, even if being dead means you feel nothing, it still seemed better."
her life. she almost end her life, thought about it.
"i wanted to, but i didn't." she lets the tears fall down her cheeks. "so two days before i made this trip, i drank with daryl. something i told myself i'd never do unless i felt like it was over ... that all that luck i apparently had was gone. so we drank the bottle my dad left behind when he went back to hilltop. i never told daryl, but the next morning i threw it all up before i went and dragged him out of bed to come on a run with me."
i smile and notice a soft smile on her own lips, but then it's gone an instant later. even through the flicker of the flames i can see that look in her eyes again, dimming them.
"he stayed the night, i asked him to. he was in the guest room, but i—i ..."
i hear my late wife's voice float through my head. i smell autumn leaves, the wood of the barn. i feel the cold and damp morning mist on my face, the soft grass and hay around the farm.
"shane and i ..." lori told me that day on hershel's farm.
"did you sleep with him?" i ask grey, not a hint of anything in my voice, but i picked up every hint she just gave me. something happened between her and daryl that night.
"no. but i thought about it, and it could've been anyone, but no one would've been you. and i know in the morning i would've thrown up anyway ... whether i drank or not. i wouldn't have been able to live with myself if i did that, and daryl knew it too. he gave me an out before anything even happened and i took it."
lori drifts out of my head and the smell of the smoke right in front of me fills my nose, my lungs, instead of the smell of the farm i still dream of some nights—still think i'm on some nights.
"then i don't care." i say softly. "whatever you did, whatever you didn't do ..." i stretch my legs, standing up and coming around the fire to sit beside her. i wipe the tears from her cheeks—the ones she didn't brush away as if she thought she deserved to wear them on her skin. "you found me, you came for me. you had doubts, but you found me. no one's ever found me before. no one ever came back for me."
she sucks in a breath, more tears filling her eyes as she figures out what i'm saying—at the start, when i was in the hospital, no one came for me. no one found me. i found them, chased them.
"daryl's always looked at you." i tuck a few strands of her soft dark hair behind her ear. she looks at me with a small crease between her brows, surprise, maybe. "i've known. i've always known he looks at you, like the way i do, but he's my brother and i love and trust both of you, and i figured ... if things changed and ... well, it'd be your choice. both of yours. but you found me."
you still chose me.
i cup her head, pulling her in to leave a kiss on her forehead. "i'm sorry i wasn't there." no man ever wants to hear their girl say they were so broken, so low, they thought of ending it. that they thought they might like it better, being gone. i wasn't there to help her, catch her before she even slipped to that point. i could've lost her and never known.
"i'm sorry i wasn't there." she pulls back to look at me. "that day, what you did on the bridge, what you did for us ... i was so close to being there to help. rosita and i were coming down the road behind you when the bridge went up in flames. i see it everyday in my head. you sacrificed yourself for all of our communities, to keep us safe from the herd coming, and i'm so sorry. i'm so sorry i wasn't there to do it with you. i always said you wouldn't do anything alone and yet i wasn't there."
"we're both sorry for things, both wish we were there for things, but we're both alive. and we're here now, with each other. we're gonna make it back home, gonna find our people, and we'll decide what to do after that, but for now ... for now i'm here, and you're with me."
she nods, curling her fingers around my wrists. she takes in a deep breath and then gently removes my touch from her to stand up. she makes her way around the crackling fire and i follow, to the hood of the car ben gave us the keys to where chugs of water sit far away enough from the fire to not get warm.
i come up behind her, placing my hands lightly on her shoulders as she pours more water into her canteen.
"i thought i was losing my mind when i heard your voice on the radio yesterday, calling for help because your guard was dead." i absentmindedly take a strand of her hair and curl it around my finger. "the entire time we tracked you down, i told myself it wasn't you. a few of the guys wanted to leave, most of them did, but the ones who stayed back with me to help find you, i think they saw it in my eyes: the panic. i told myself it wasn't you on the radio because i didn't think i'd be able to come back from that, thinking you were there, thinking you were so close to me that i'd see you and touch you again. i know i wouldn't have been able to come back from that if it wasn't you."
"i missed you." she breathes, her shoulders lifting slightly, the muscles of her back tightening underneath her cream colored sweater as i step closer to her, our bodies almost touching.
"i missed you too, baby."
she drags her foot back an inch, barely even a step, and her back meets my chest. i let out a breath through my nose and slowly lift my hand to brush her hair over her shoulder. "how long you gonna make me wait?" i whisper, running my nose down the curve of her ear and kissing her neck.
"i wasn't making you wait." i hear a hint of a smile on her face. there's no space between our bodies now and i assure that by wrapping my hand loosely around the front of her throat, keeping her flush to my clothed chest. "we could have pulled over at any time today."
a laugh rumbles at the base of my throat, my voice strained as i try to restrain myself—just a little longer. "you say the word ... and i would've."
"now, then." she whispers, reaching her hands behind her back. i feel her fingers fumbling with my belt and zipper and i close my eyes, resting my brow on her head, my stomach tightening as she dips her hands in my pants.
i grunt, feeling her hand on me, the apparent outline through my boxers. i spin her around by the shoulders, needing to kiss her, needing to taste her. "in the car," i mutter against her lips. "it—" my breath hitches, and she takes that moment to draw back and begin kissing down my neck.
she molds into my hands, every inch of her, and i want to feel every inch of her; want her to feel me for days after tonight, want to have her everyday from here on out because i've been so cold—so cold and empty in the days i've endured without her.
"freezing. it's freezing." i remember what i was saying, even as my head starts to feel like it's spinning just from her hands and mouth on me—her mouth on just my neck, and god, if her mouth was somewhere else i don't think i'd have a single coherent thought.
so once we're in the backseats of the car that was loaned to us, and after i slam the door shut a bit too hard because of the adrenaline and need clouding my senses, grey seems to have read my mind and slowly lowers herself to the floor.
she breaks the kiss as she pushes me back until my shoulders are against the seat. "grey—" but before i can protest, before i can miss her, she's kneeling between my legs and taking me in her mouth.
i suck air through my teeth, my hips automatically rising, which i quickly apologize for by threading my hands into her hair and relaxing back into the seat as best i can. my lips are parted as i watch her—watch her look up at me with those eyes i fell in love with many, many years ago. and her tongue, her mouth, so warm and wet, i just about forget how to breathe.
i groan, tangling my hand deeper into her hair, fisting the brown strands tighter. i swear i could forget my own fucking name right now if not for the memories that slam into me, of all the times i've heard my name tumble from her lips as i drove myself into her.
i can't believe the way my brain fogs over when i'm with her, yet at the same time, it's the only thing that makes absolute sense. so as her hand and mouth continue to move and bob up and down my length, i allow my head to lull back, hitting the headrest. my chest rises and falls with quick, deep breaths that seem to move my entire body.
"fuck." i whisper. "fuck," i lift my head, looking down at her again. "wait. w-wait—" she stops, just her hand on me now, slowly moving up and down, and she's looking into my eyes with a smile on her lips, a coy fucking smile.
a breath rasps out of me as i take her hands, moving them away from me because not yet. not until i have her. so i lean down and kiss her again, kiss her like she's the last bit of air before it's sealed off entirely from me, and then i say, "ride me."
quickly, the rest of our clothes are discarded, thrown onto the seats in the front of the car and beside where i sit, and then she's on top of me. i run my hands over her bare skin and let my eyes drink up the sight of her, sate a bit of the hunger, the starvation in my bones.
i look at her as she hovers over me and i watch her face—like i always do—as she slides down and slowly takes every inch of me. my eyes shutter for a second but i open them quickly, not wanting another moment of not seeing her, of missing her.
a breath falls from her lips just to be sucked back in. her next gasp is silenced by her teeth digging her into her bottom lip.
"so beautiful." i mutter into her skin, kissing between her breasts, across her chest, over her collarbones—her collarbones, with the chain of a necklace. i pull away, looking at it, at the wishbone pendent that sits just below the hollow part of her neck.
"you still wear it." i say, taking the chain in between my fingers, thumb grazing the pendant. i allow my eyes to flutter shut for a moment as she sinks down fully to the hilt. i feel her hands on my face, and my heart thunders in my chest as i open my eyes.
"i never took it off." she says, then slowly raises her hips before sinking down again.
a grunt comes out me, a hungry, guttural sound as i wrap my arms around her and kiss her again, softly meeting her movements with my own. she moves on me like water, our bodies molding to a perfect fit just like i thought, just how i remembered.
so good—always so good. i grip her hips and ass with shaking hands and she lets hers rest on my shoulders for leverage.
"you're shaking." she smiles against my lips, and from those two words, it feels like she dug her claws into my heart years ago and just now made it known by twisting them.
you're shaking, she told me the first time we had each other—in alexandria, in my bed with freshly washed sheets. god, i wanted her before we found alexandria. wanted her, and hesitated, because i wasn't in a good place then and i knew that.
i wanted to make sure i could trust myself, trust that i wanted her for the right reasons and not as some sort of escape from what i was feeling—that darkness i was lost in. because although grey kingston was tempting, so very tempting, i could never use her. could never use someone for their warmth and healing, just to leave them colder than i was to begin with.
but when we first made it to alexandria and i could separate my hatred for myself and the world from everything else, i still found myself looking at her. looking and wanting—wanting so bad but never doing more than kissing her.
it ate at me, the fear i felt over the thought of losing her each time she left my side and went out past the walls for a supply run. anything and anyone that threatened her or the bit of happiness she had left and clung desperately to, i would've happily destroyed.
when we had the luxury of washing our clothes and bed sheets, had the luxury of even having a bed, i knew it was the right time.
because grey kingston, although a part of me would have taken off my coat and laid it on the cold, hard earth for her to lay back on if it meant i could feel her, deserved a bed. deserved warm, clean sheets and a roof for christ's sake. she deserved a house, in a community that was safe, and i wanted to wake up with her the next morning, tangled in the sheets, tangled with her.
she deserves everything, things i can never give her, but will spend the rest of my life trying, fighting for.
you're shaking, she told me that night after we finished, and i was so insanely lost in her, in my head, that the only thing i could do to stop the feeling of the floor falling out from under me was tug her back onto me and fuck her again.
because i loved her then, even if i didn't tell her until months after that, and i love her now. love her so much, to no end, and my favorite thing to do whenever she points out the fact that i'm a mess because of her, is ruin her all the same.
so i dig my feet into the floor of the car, flex my thighs, and hold her hips tighter as i thrust mine up, determined to have her shaking and writhing the way she has me.
she gasps, her hands flying to settle on mine, and i smile, dipping my nose in between her shoulder and neck—kissing, sucking, biting.
"rick," she breathes, and i hum. there it is, my name on her lips, my name from her mouth.
mine. mine. mine.
that's it.
"fuck, please. don't stop. please—"
"you always take me so good." i mutter against her skin, hearing a hitched breath meet the back of her throat in response. and then—and then...
my jaw hangs open as i watch her eyes roll back. i fist her hair at the base of her skull, pulling her in to kiss me, and that's when she cries against my mouth—muffled and beautiful—and i feel her fall apart. the car rocks with us and only when i feel like the blood in my veins is on fire do i break from the kiss to watch where we meet.
"oh my god, baby." i groan, the sweat on my back meeting the leather seat i lean against. "fuck." i dig my fingers into her hips and drag her down me one last time. i hold her there, not an inch of space between us as my muscles quiver. my mouth is dry and i have to force myself to swallow as the noise in my ears slowly fades out to a soft ringing.
she's panting above me, strands of her hair a mess over her gorgeous face, and i wrap my hand around the her throat, pulling her to me, kissing her.
"grey," i warn, gritting my teeth as she begins to move again despite how it's making me wince.
"you feel too good." she whines, and i curl my fist in her hair, pulling slightly. "i wanna go again."
i grin against her lips, the grin of a wolf, same as hers. my chest continues to burn with how hard my heart is pounding. i still her with both my hands on her waist, "we have all night."
she lets out a tired sigh and collapses into my chest.
i don't know how long we stay like this. long enough to catch our breath, to feel the glazed look in our eyes slip away and be replaced with normal focus. grey's head is against my chest and i idly stroke lines down her spine, my other hand massaging the tips of my fingers through her hair, and i'm so grateful.
even through everything we've both lost throughout the years; people we love, strangers we cared for, ourselves again and again to that darkness we'll probably never fully emerge from; all of that, all of that pain, and i have the person who feels like home in my arms. home, when our lives have revolved around finding one, a safe place to call home since we lost ours to the fall, and yet ... here it is, her.
my home, my friend, my girl, my ...
i'm pulled from my thoughts as grey shifts, sitting up and removing herself from my lap. i watch as she pulls her shirt over her head, pulls the cuffs of her sweater down over her palms.
i silently dress alongside her, our fire outside the car still lit, the flickering flames steady like a soft lullaby to watch and fall asleep to.
when i'm dressed, i sit back again, my heart now a steady thump in my chest. i reach my hand out, drawing a finger down her side as she leans forward to grab her pants, and as she focuses on tying the strings to tighten the hem around her waist, i whisper the words in my head.
she stiffens, like she's not sure if she heard me correctly or heard me at all. and then her fingers pull the loops of the bow and she drops them as she looks over her shoulder at me.
"what?" the glow of the fire outside illuminates her face. her cheeks are still flushed, either from me or the cold or both; her soft, messy brown hair; plump lips from kissing me; and her eyes. her eyes.
i whisper, "marry me."
she turns to face me, that soft crease between her brows back, and my eyes dart to her lips for a second.
"marry me. be my wife." my voice is quiet, soft, rasping against my throat as i look into her eyes that never changed with how she looked at me. she's never seen me as the hateful, broken, tyrant of man i see myself as and worried she'd grow to see too and hate as the years went on—as my count of mistakes and layers of blood on my hands multiplied and thickened—but she never did.
"i don't have a ring, i don't have anything, but—" i lean forward a bit, raising my hand to run my thumb over her cheekbone. "i want you to know, that even though i'll do everythin' i can to make sure there isn't another day we spend without each other, if we're ever apart again, i want you to know i'll never stop looking for you." my other hand finds the middle of my chest, the strong thud underneath my rib cage. "that even in death i'll be looking for you. even in another life, i will spend all my time looking ... for you. because whatever time we have left in this world, it will never be enough. i'll always choose you."
she rests the side of her face into my palm, her warm tears rolling down to my hand.
"will you marry me, grey?"
she nods her head, wrapping gentle fingers around my wrist and leaning in to kiss me. yes, she whispers against my lips—whispers it again as i pull her back onto me, her legs on either side of mine—again as the kiss grows heavier and she arches into me as i run my hands down the middle of her back.
i can't get enough, can't stop feeling her, tasting her, hearing her voice that was nothing but a memory in my head these past three and a half years.
so even though we just dressed again, and i watched her tie the string on her pants, i undo it with one yank and lower her to the seat so she's laying under me.
i kiss her tears away before she pulls my shirt off over my head and her hands find my hair as i inch back and dip my head between her thighs.
soft breaths fall from her lips as i taste where i was just minutes ago. i taste myself everywhere on her and my heart thrums knowing she's everywhere on me too. not until she's begging and pulling me back up do i finally stop, my tongue and fingers drenched with her.
she runs a finger down my chest, down my stomach as i nudge her knees apart and fill the space between, leaning over her. i catch her lips with mine as i gently push inside, her legs shaking as she wraps them around my waist, and i fuck her again.
at some point the fire dies out outside of the car, the lullaby drifting away to leave us alone with each other's darkness that's warmer than any fire we could ever try to destroy ourselves with, or bed we could slip into.
my home, my friend, my girl ... my wife.
she would've been, even if i never officially asked her to be. she has been, in my mind, for awhile now. just as i loved her long before i ever told her.
my home. my wife.
=
a/n
....... :) i could not wait to publish this chapter so i really hope u enjoyed it. leave a vote/comment if u want! i love hearing from you guys
<3
— just realized i made a mistake on my S8 Visuals chapter, which everyone probably forgot about because i've written in the chapters since then that the time jump from s7 to s8 is three and a half years. so TO SETTLE IT: yes, it's been almost 4 years since the day on the bridge/rick's disappearance (ch 73) and almost 6 years since the apocalypse started!
this book's timeline has been some of the hardest shit i've had to figure out / keep track of :')