Chapter 11 - Ella

Daryl had only been gone for one day, but it felt like an eternity. The ache in my chest wouldn't ease, no matter how hard I tried to distract myself. What if he came back and decided it was too late? Too broken to fix? What if he'd decided that the distance was more than just physical—that we were too far gone, that I was too far gone?

I shook my head, pushing those thoughts aside. I couldn't dwell on it, not now. He had said he loved me, that he still wanted to try. And I had to believe him. I had to trust that when he came back, we would find our way again. We had to.

"Hey, baby," I called, plastering a bright smile on my face as I turned toward Ian, determined to focus on the present, on the moment.

"Hi, Mom!" Ian beamed back at me, his eyes sparkling with that infectious energy of his. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning forward toward Ruby, who was slowly pushing herself up onto her hands. Ian's voice was gentle, coaxing, but filled with excitement. "Come on, Ruby! You can do it!"

I couldn't help but chuckle softly as I settled onto the couch, my heart warmed by the sight of Ian encouraging his little sister. It was a beautiful thing to watch—a simple moment of sibling love, the kind of moment that made everything else feel smaller, more manageable.

"Come on, Ruby," Ian repeated, his voice laced with that sweetness only a big brother could carry. "You're so close!"

Ruby didn't seem all that impressed. She gave him a bored look, her little lips forming a frown, before continuing her determined scoot across the floor. She'd been practicing for weeks, getting stronger every day, but today seemed different. Today, she seemed more focused. As she lifted her tiny body up on her hands, her legs followed. My breath caught in my throat as I watched her balance on her hands and knees for a full, shaky ten seconds.

"Oh my goodness!" I squealed, unable to contain my excitement. I launched myself off the couch and dropped to the floor beside them, scooping them both up in one swift motion. My heart was full, too full for words, as I pressed eager kisses to their soft cheeks.

"Ian! You did it! You got her to push herself up!" I shouted, laughing with pure joy.

Ian's face lit up, his grin stretching ear to ear as he laughed too, clearly proud of his little sister's accomplishment. Ruby, never one to miss out on the fun, giggled in delight, reaching up to pat my face with her tiny hands. The sound of their laughter filled the room, a melody of innocence and joy that made the weight of the world feel just a little lighter.

The more I kissed them, the more they squirmed with happiness, their giggles growing louder. The two of them were like a living, breathing reminder of everything good in my life, and for a moment, nothing else mattered.

But then, the front door burst open with a loud crash. My heart skipped a beat, my thoughts immediately jumping to Daryl, to the sound of his boots heavy on the floor as he came home to us. But instead, it was Carl, walking in with his usual air of seriousness, his eyes scanning the room as he greeted us.

I let out a small, disappointed sigh but quickly masked it, not wanting to let the kids see any of the longing I was feeling. I stood up, holding both of them in my arms, and without thinking, I spun around, twirling them with me as I laughed. The simple act of holding them, of feeling their little bodies against mine, reminded me of why I kept going, even when the days seemed uncertain.

"You'll never believe it!" I said to Carl, a bright smile on my face as I turned toward him, eager to share the little victory of the morning.

"Ruby—"

I stopped short, my words faltering as I noticed Carl's expression. His face was a storm of frustration and anger, his brow furrowed, his jaw tight. I set Ian down on the floor gently, adjusting Ruby on my hip, the sudden shift in the air making my chest tighten.

"Hey," I said, my voice quieter now, softer. "What happened?"

Carl didn't respond right away. Instead, he shook his head in frustration and dropped onto the couch, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of whatever was going on was too much for him. I couldn't just stand there and let him stew in it.

I gently patted Ian on the back, guiding him towards the stairs. "Ian, why don't you go to your room for a few minutes while I talk to Carl? I'll call you down when lunch is ready, okay?"

Ian looked up at me, his face still full of that childlike innocence, but I could see the flicker of concern in his eyes. He glanced at Carl, then back at me, before nodding and running up the stairs, his little feet thudding softly against the wooden steps.

Once I heard Ian's door close upstairs, I turned my attention fully back to Carl. I set Ruby into her high chair, making sure she was comfortable, her little hands grasping at the edge of the tray as she babbled to herself, oblivious to the tension in the air. I moved towards the kitchen, keeping an eye on Carl, who hadn't moved from the couch. He sat there, his head in his hands, shoulders hunched in a way that made my heart ache for him.

"You gonna tell me what the problem is?" I asked softly, my tone careful, trying not to push too hard, but knowing I couldn't just let it go.

Carl sighed deeply, the sound heavy with the weight of his words. He stood up, following me into the kitchen, but he didn't make eye contact. He helped me get lunch ready, his movements mechanical, like he was on autopilot.

"My dad went off the wall," Carl muttered under his breath, the words barely more than a rough whisper. "He had a gun, beat the crap out of Jessie's husband, Pete. Said a lot of stupid shit. Deanna's pissed. Michonne had to put my dad in an empty house and is keeping watch until tomorrow."

My blood ran cold at the mention of what Rick had done, but I held myself together. This was about Carl, not Rick right now. I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "What the hell?" I whispered. "How did I not know any of this?"

"A lot's happened in the weeks you've been back." Carl's voice was quieter now, tinged with sadness. "But you're always at home or at school."

"Apparently," I murmured, shaking my head slightly as I began plating up some fresh veggies for Ian, Carl, and myself. "I guess I've just had my head up my own ass for a little too long."

Carl didn't respond to that, but I could see him thinking about it. There was so much more going on than I'd realized, so much under the surface I hadn't been paying attention to. My thoughts returned to him as he stood quietly beside me, and I noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze kept darting toward the floor, like he couldn't look me in the eye.

"So who has Judith?" I asked, trying to shift the mood, but also keeping my voice gentle, trying to keep the space light.

"Carol does for now," Carl answered, his voice small, as if even talking about his sister felt too heavy right now.

I let that hang in the air for a moment before something clicked in my mind. My heart softened as I moved toward Carl, my mind already formulating an idea.

"Do you want to grab her and spend the night here tonight?" I asked, my voice soft but firm, offering the comfort I knew he needed. "Or at least until your dad is out of... jail, I guess?" I huffed out a humorless laugh, trying to make light of it, but the weight of the situation still lingered.

Carl looked at me, a flicker of hope in his eyes, but also uncertainty. "Can we?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The sadness in his eyes was raw, so much older than his years, and it broke me to see it.

I didn't think twice. I opened my arms, pulling him into a tight hug, even though Carl had long since passed me in height. I felt his body stiffen for a moment, like he didn't know how to take it, but then he melted into the embrace, and I held him tighter, letting him feel the strength I was offering.

"You are always welcome here, you know that," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. My hand rubbed his back gently, soothing him. "We're family, right?"

Carl didn't say anything at first, but his arms tightened around me, his sigh heavy with the weight of everything he'd been holding in. "Yeah, we are."

I pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, cupping his face in my hands. "Then go get your sister, and let Michonne and Carol know you're spending the night here. But first, lunch, then Judith," I added, a soft smile tugging at my lips as I gestured toward the food on the counter.

Carl gave me a small, relieved smile and nodded. "Thanks, El," he said quietly, his voice lighter now.

Carl nodded as I finally released him from the hug, his steps light as he grabbed the plates. I called for Ian, and we ate lunch in silence, the quiet stretching between us like an old habit. But the peace didn't last long. A knock at the door made me glance up, and when I saw who it was, I didn't even flinch.

Deanna's son, Spencer.

"Hi," I said, stepping out onto the porch with a polite smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Spencer, right?"

"Yeah, Ella, right?" He smiled back, but there was something a little too forced in his expression. Maybe it was because he was trying to be the nice guy, or maybe it was because he had a message that wasn't going to sit well with me.

"Yep, that's me. What's up?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe, my arms crossed.

Spencer scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the tension. "Um, my mom wanted me to go around and spread the word that tomorrow night the community is going to have a meeting. And she'd like for everyone to be there."

I frowned, suspicion flaring. "One sec," I held up a finger, stepping back inside just long enough to make sure Carl was handling the kids. When I turned back, I didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Is this about what Rick did?"

Spencer's nod was slow, almost hesitant.

"Is Deanna kicking us out?" I asked bluntly, my voice flat as steel. I wasn't about to dance around this.

"It's just a meeting so everyone can say their piece about what happened," Spencer explained quickly, his voice rising as if trying to reassure me. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, clearly uncomfortable. "My mom will make the decision about Rick staying. But with what he did, I honestly don't know what the outcome will be."

I took a step toward him, my posture shifting to something more aggressive. "What exactly did he do?"

Spencer looked down, then back up at me. "He beat up Jessie's husband pretty good. Said Pete's been hitting her. Then he pulled a gun and started talking a bunch of nonsense about the community being weak, about how we don't understand what it's like outside the walls."

I nodded, my jaw tightening. The picture was starting to come into focus, but I didn't like it.

"Do you think he's right?" Spencer asked, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and something else. Maybe guilt. Maybe uncertainty.

I smirked, the edge of sarcasm creeping into my voice. "Do you really want my opinion? Or are you just looking for me to agree with Rick so you can go back and tell your mom to kick us out too?"

Spencer's face went pale, a flash of confusion flickering in his eyes. "What?"

"Don't patronize me," I snapped, stepping forward, not backing down. "I've seen the way you people look at my husband, like he's some kind of wild animal. I've heard the whispers since Paul died. You think Rick's a savage, uncivilized. You think we are. You've been talking behind our backs, judging me for being a shell of myself. Wondering if I'm going to turn out just like him. I see it. I can feel the thoughts turning over in your head. You think we're dangerous because we've been out there, surviving in a world that's nothing like the one you've been hiding in."

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to the ground, avoiding mine. His jaw worked, like he wanted to say something, but couldn't.

"Yeah," I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest, my eyes narrowing. "That's what I thought."

"Look, it's not me who thinks that," Spencer tried, his voice faltering as he searched for the right words. "It's just—"

"Stop," I cut him off, holding up a hand. My voice was like ice now, sharp and steady. "You people have no idea what it's like out there. You forget that when the world fell apart, it didn't just set the good people free. The killers, the sickos, the monsters—they're free too. There are people out there who hurt others for fun, who kill because it's a game to them. They'll do anything to survive. Because we didn't get to live in safety, didn't get to play happy families and make casseroles on Friday nights, we didn't get to send our kids off to school. We've had to survive, Spencer. You all are sheltered. You're weak. And if Deanna kicks Rick out—if she does that, the rest of us will leave. We're a family, and if we leave, this place will crumble."

I stood there for a moment, letting the silence stretch between us, watching as Spencer's face slowly drained of color. His lips parted, but no words came out. He couldn't even look me in the eye anymore.

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel, walking back to the door. "You should go tell your mom, then. You can let her know that if Rick goes, we go. This place isn't strong without us."

Spencer stood frozen, his gaze following me, but I didn't give him a chance to say anything else. I slammed the door shut behind me, the echo ringing in the stillness of the house.

When I turned around, Carl was standing in my living room, holding Ruby in his arms. A small smile tugged at his lips as he gently rocked her in his arms, the warmth between them palpable. For a moment, I just stood there, watching them, the sight filling me with a strange mixture of comfort and unease. I knew I needed to do something, to get a clearer sense of where the rest of the group stood on the situation, to figure out just how deep we were in this mess. I couldn't keep ignoring the tension, the uncertainty that seemed to settle over all of us.

I shook off my thoughts, focusing on the moment at hand. "Hey," I started, breaking the silence, "I'm going to go get Judith so you guys can spend the night here. Will you stay with Ian and Ruby?"

Carl gave a small nod, his eyes softening as he shifted Ruby slightly in his arms. "Of course, El."

I didn't waste another second. I left the house with purposeful steps, moving quickly through the quiet streets of Alexandria. I knew I needed answers, but I wasn't sure who would have them. The air was thick with tension, and the world around me seemed quieter than usual—everyone was on edge. I needed to know if we were about to be torn apart, or if there was still a chance to hold this place together.

When I reached Rick's house, I saw Carol standing near the porch, holding Judith in her arms. The sight of her immediately made me feel a sense of relief—at least Judith was safe.

"Hey, Ella," Carol greeted me softly, her voice steady, but I could see the exhaustion in her eyes.

"Hey," I returned, offering her a tight-lipped smile, trying to keep the worry off my face. "Carl told me what happened with Rick this afternoon. I figured I'd keep him and Judith at my house until Rick's out."

Carol's expression didn't change much, but she handed Judith over to me with a quiet nod. I balanced Judith on my hip, feeling her small weight in my arms, her warmth soothing despite the cold weight of everything else. She gurgled softly, her tiny hands reaching up to touch my face, and for a brief second, I let myself focus on her innocence, her reliance on me, on all of us.

"So," I started, my voice quieter now, the weight of what I had to ask hanging heavy between us, "what's going to happen?"

Carol's brow furrowed, and she looked away, her gaze flicking to the ground as though she were weighing her words carefully. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice low. "Glenn, Abraham, and I are going to see Rick tomorrow before the meeting. We're going to talk to him, try to figure out what's going on. You want to come with us? See for yourself?"

I nodded slowly, the decision settling in my chest. I needed to hear what Rick had to say, but more than that, I needed to understand the consequences of what had happened. There was no denying it—Rick had crossed a line, and there was no going back. But how far had he gone? How much damage had been done?

I glanced down at Judith, her small, trusting eyes looking up at me, her tiny fingers curling around my shirt. My heart tightened, knowing that whatever came next, this little girl deserved stability, deserved to feel safe. And the rest of us? We needed to find a way to stay intact.

"Alright," I said, my voice steady but full of the uncertainty I was trying to bury. "I'll come with you."

I turned on my heel and headed back toward the house, the cool evening air biting at my skin as I carried Judith, my thoughts a swirl of worry and unresolved questions. I couldn't ignore the fear gnawing at me, but I also couldn't let it consume me. Not now. Not with everything on the line.

The night passed quickly as I put the kids to bed, making sure Carl was settled on the couch before I turned in myself. The next morning went by in a blur, a mixture of routine and anticipation. I was on edge, waiting for Carol to come by and let me know it was time—time to talk to Rick, time to figure out just what kind of mess we were in.

When she knocked on my door, I stood up immediately, heart racing. We exchanged a quick look before heading out together. We barely spoke as we walked, both of us lost in our thoughts, both knowing the conversation ahead was going to be difficult.

When we arrived at Rick's house, Abraham was standing by the door, arms crossed, keeping watch. His face was set in that familiar grim expression, and he didn't say a word as we passed by. Inside, Rick was sitting on a mattress, looking as bad as I'd expected. His face was bruised, swollen, a handful of butterfly bandages stuck haphazardly to his skin, barely hiding the damage beneath.

I couldn't help but sigh under my breath at the sight of him. I had feared this would happen. But still, it hurt to see him like this, to see how far things had gone.

"Where'd you get the gun?" Michonne asked, her voice calm, but there was an edge to it—concern masked as something else.

"You took it from the armory, right?" Carol chimed in, stepping forward. Her tone was a mixture of disappointment and frustration. "That was really stupid, Rick. Why'd you do it?"

Rick met her eyes, and for a moment, I thought he might say something, defend himself. But instead, he just stared at her, that unreadable expression on his face.

I felt a wave of frustration rise in my chest, but I swallowed it down, forcing myself to stay composed. "How did you do it?" I asked, my voice a little sharper than I intended. "Olivia is always there, watching. What did you do—wait until nightfall and sneak in to steal the gun?"

Rick threw up a hand, a sigh escaping him as he leaned back against the wall, the weight of the moment settling in. He didn't answer right away, and for a few seconds, the room was thick with tension.

"I took it," Rick finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just in case I needed it."

Glenn spoke up from behind me, his voice steady but laced with frustration. "Well, now Deanna's having a meeting tonight. Anyone who wants to attend can."

I turned to look at Glenn, my eyes narrowing slightly. "Spencer told me she wanted everyone there," I said. "He made it sound like it was mandatory. Honestly, I think they want to use this meeting to try and kick Rick out."

Carol scoffed at the idea. "They can try," she said, her voice laced with defiance.

Glenn looked between us, shaking his head. "We don't know that for sure," he said, his tone softer now, trying to keep the peace.

I folded my arms, frustration building again. "Then can we have Maggie ask?" I looked straight at Glenn, my gaze unwavering. "She's working with Deanna, right? Have her go in and ask why Deanna's holding this meeting if it isn't about kicking us out."

Glenn hesitated, his brow furrowing as he shifted his weight. "Okay, first, it isn't about kicking us out, this meeting is just about Rick," he explained, casting an apologetic glance at Rick. "Second, I can't guarantee that Deanna will tell Maggie anything. She's been shut off since Aiden died. You haven't seen how she's been since then. She's been distant, not working with Maggie as much anymore. But I'll talk to her. I'll try."

I bit my lip, trying not to take Glenn's comment personally. He was right, after all. I had been so wrapped up in my own feelings that I hadn't been able to see how much had shifted within Alexandria. I hadn't realized just how much tension there was beneath the surface—how much was crumbling even before Rick's outburst.

The truth stung, but I couldn't ignore it.

"Well, regardless, we need a plan," I sighed, rubbing my temples as the weight of the situation settled deeper in my chest. "Any suggestions on how we minimize the damage, try to keep us here?"

Carol didn't hesitate. Her gaze was sharp, focused, cutting through the tension. "At the meeting, you tell them you were worried about Jessie being abused," she began, her voice firm but calm. "You tell them no one else noticed the signs, no one else did anything about it. Then you say you took a gun—just to be sure that Jessie was safe from a man who eventually attacked you. You make them believe it, Rick. You tell them a story they want to hear." Her eyes never left Rick's, piercing and steady. "It's what I've been doing since we got here."

Rick was quiet for a moment, taking in Carol's words. There was something unreadable in his expression, but I could tell he was thinking it over. Carol's plan was risky, but it was their best shot.

"Why?" Michonne asked, her voice low, but clear. She wasn't asking out of disbelief—she was trying to understand.

Carol let out a humorless chuckle. "Why?" she repeated, shaking her head. "Because these people are children. They need a story, something they can swallow, something that makes them feel like they're in control. They need to believe we're just like them—just broken enough, just scared enough to fit in."

"What happens after all the nice words, and they still try to kick him out?" Abraham's voice was gruff, the worry laced with the hardness that had carried him through many battles. "What then?"

Glenn spoke up, his tone practical but careful. "Well, they're guarding the armory now."

Carol's eyes flashed with resolve. "We still have knives."

I nodded in agreement, my hand unconsciously resting near my hip where my knives usually sat. "I have my bow, Daryl has his," I added, trying to keep my voice steady, but the truth was, I didn't feel confident we could fight our way out if it came to that.

"Daryl's on a recruit mission," Carol reminded us, her voice softer but still laced with that same edge. "Besides, the knives are all we'd need against these people. They're weak. They've never had to survive out there like we have."

Rick finally spoke up, his voice low and deliberate. "Tonight, at the meeting, if it starts going south, I'll whistle. Ella, you grab Deanna, get her out of there. I'll take Spencer, Michonne takes Reg. Glenn, Abraham, Carol—you cover us, watch the crowd, make sure no one tries anything."

Michonne's eyes widened just slightly, a flicker of disbelief in them before she quickly masked it with a stoic expression. "We can't just threaten people like that."

Rick's eyes hardened, his jaw clenching. "Yeah, we can. And we will. If we can't get through to them, we take the three of them, make it clear we'll slit their throats if they don't back off. We're not asking for permission. We're taking what we need."

"Like at Terminus?" Glenn asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Really?"

Rick glanced at him, his gaze unflinching. "No, not like Terminus. We're not burning anyone alive. But we're also not going to let them use us as an example of weakness. Carol's right. These people? They're weak, and it won't take much to get what we want. They'll hand over the armory, and then it's all over."

I sighed deeply, rubbing my eyes in frustration. "Okay, I know these people are weak and stupid, but Rick, this might be going a little too far, even for me." I leaned back against the wall, trying to collect my thoughts. "You know I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep us alive and safe. But the kids need this. We need this. When I said Daryl and I have our bows, I meant for us to survive outside the walls, if they kick us out."

Rick didn't look at me, but his jaw clenched, his fists tightening on his knees. "You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to put us in this position?" His voice was rough, like he was swallowing down more than just words.

Glenn's eyes shifted from Rick to the rest of us. He crossed his arms, taking a step closer to Rick. "Did you want this, though?" he asked, his voice steady, but tinged with disbelief. He wasn't just asking for clarity—he was trying to get Rick to face the truth.

Rick paused, staring at the floor for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but heavy with regret. "No. I didn't want this. I hit my limit." He threw his arms up in defeat, a frustrated growl escaping him. "I fucked up. I wanted this to work. But here we are."

He let out a long, drawn-out breath, and I could see the exhaustion weighing on him. The kind of exhaustion that wasn't just physical—it was the weight of all the mistakes, the choices, the things he wished he could take back.

Rick didn't wait for anyone to respond. With a resigned look on his face, he turned over and laid down on the mattress, his back to us, signaling that the conversation was over. The rest of us filed out of the room in silence, none of us knowing what to say next. There was no closure, no resolution, just an unspoken understanding that we were all in this together, but no one had the answers we needed.

By the time I made it back home, Carl and Judith were already packed up, ready to go. Carl caught sight of me from the door and waved, a small smile tugging at his lips. "We're heading back home, Ella," he said, his voice calm but with a hint of uncertainty.

I waved back, trying to muster up the strength to smile, but my heart wasn't in it. "Okay. Stay safe, you two. I'll see you soon."

They left without saying much more, and I stood there for a moment, watching them go. The weight of the upcoming meeting pressed down on me, but I couldn't focus on it yet. I turned and entered the house, the door clicking softly behind me.

I sat down on the couch, pulling my legs up beneath me. I needed to gather my thoughts, prepare myself for whatever was about to come. Tonight would be the night that determined everything—whether we stayed or we left, whether we had a future here or if we'd be out there on our own once more.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm the storm of thoughts swirling inside my head. The meeting would tell us everything. Whether we had a place here or if we were just another group of survivors that didn't fit into this fragile world anymore.