# 𝑳𝑬𝑫𝑯𝑶𝑷𝑬.  an  independent ,  private  &  exclusive  writing  blog  for  𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒆  𝒓𝒉𝒆𝒆  (  𝒏𝒆́𝒆  𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒆  )  of  𝚝𝚑𝚎  𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍  𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚎.  show  based.  low  activity.  21+.  written  by  aggos  (  she / her. 28. gmt-3  )

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they haven’t always been this close; there’s been bumps in their relationship but that’s just family, she figures. maggie might be an adult now, a woman, in every sense of the word, but when her dad speaks to her in that reassuring way, that also calls to action, she feels like a little girl again. like a little girl who has finally been shown the way, and she isn’t scared anymore because her father’s there to hold her hand. 

the last year has been one hit after another.  he finally opened his heart again to love someone again  —  not replacing the loves he’s had before,  but making room for something new,  allowing himself to share so much of the love he has left to give.  and then,  too soon,  jesus was gone too.  he wasn’t sure if he could recover from that,  not after his heavy heart had come to learn that multiple people could become the love of your life.  it was like things had just gotten started,  like his heart was just beginning to beat entirely new,  like he was just starting to plan what the rest of his life would look like,  how his family could grow,  how alexandria may not feel so hollow anymore.

and just like that,  alexandria had suffered,  too.

it’s easy to say that he won’t accept losing any more,  but when she calls him on it,  he can’t commit to it.  he knows that someday,  maybe he will fall in love again,  too.  someday,  maybe they will be able to make this place home again — or maybe they will find another,  because while this was the only real home he ever knew,  he knows that just like the love of his life,  his heart can make room for another.  that would not be replacing alexandria, either  —  because it’s the people here who are the heart of this place, isn’t it? 

he sighs,  shaking his head and finally looking back to her.  ❝  i want to believe it.  close myself off from anything that could hurt me again—-  ❞   but he’s never entirely connected with people who can do that so easily,  because he could never comprehend it himself.  he chuckles,  though it’s empty.  ❝  i’m not sure that’s the kind of person i am.  my heart has a mind of its own.  ❞   he wonders if hers does,  too.  he believes that she could find that love  —  that it is in the cards for her, if she so wants it to be.

he looks down at their hands together,  his thumb brushing over her knuckles  (  just as it has so many times before — in happy moments,  in sorrowful moments,  in hopeful moments.  )  ❝  it is.  if you want it,  maggie,  you’ll find it when the time is right.  right in front of your eyes,  even.  when you’re least expecting it,  too.  ❞   and he wants that for her.

he grins,  because that’s familiar to him — and it’s likely obvious with the sparkle in his eyes.  for so long,  his meetings with jesus were kept quiet,  not for the sake of their relationship,  but for the sake of their communities,  who didn’t yet know how to come back together.  ❝  i did.  i fell in love again,  ❞   he admits quietly,  and his smile grows,  because this right here is what he missed so much.  the story has a sour ending — but the beginning, the middle, it was all beautiful.  ❝  you think it’s going to be scary,  that your heart is going to close up on you the moment you start to think you shouldn’t.  but—-  if you’re with the right person,  your heart will know when to open up.  and you’ve just got to follow that,  ❞   he assures her,  finally allowing himself to reveal the man in question.  ❝  jesus taught me that.  ❞

maggie’s laughs says what she doesn’t: that all hearts do. that even when the mind is telling you to be guarded, to not give yourself entirely to anyone because the possibility of getting hurt is always there; when hearts choose people, when hearts open up for somebody else... that’s it. fighting it isn’t a choice at all, not for the likes of maggie, and by what he’s saying, it isn’t a choice for aaron either. they’re cut from the same cloth, she thinks, and it’s funny to her how it’s possible to be this connected to somebody you only met through circumstances.

the touch on her skin is soothing, it’s grounding, it’s needed. maggie’s nature aches deeply for affection and she’s never been one to close herself off to it, just like she knows she won’t be able to say no to the moment her heart starts growing for somebody in the way it grew for glenn when they were just kids who stepped into adulthood together, holding each other’s hands and each other’s hearts — looking back now to who she was when they met and who she became because of his love, she is certain that if someday life puts somebody else in her path like that, she’ll want to be ready to accept it. maybe not right now, but someday.

❝  i do — i think i do,  ❞  a whispered confession like it’s a secret, but the good kind. the way his eyes tell her there’s more to the story... of course there is, she figures, they’ve lived apart for a long, long time and even if she came back when ( because ) things were bad, it doesn’t mean it was all bad. it wasn’t all bad for her on the road, with the new communities and groups she met, with the time spent alone with her son, or learning from georgie and teaching other what she knew. so of course there’s more to aaron’s part of the story, she just didn’t expect that this was going to be the turn it took.

her eyes become softer, a mixture of excitement and anticipated sadness to them. happy, because he’s got to experience love like that again, and sad because he’s speaking of it as if in the past — she knows how the story goes.even before he says the name.

they came out here because they wanted to be left alone.  they came out here because the walls of alexandria feel like a cage,  and inside them,  sasha is choking.  the smiles,  the laughter,  the forced-normalcy  —  it all makes their stomach twist and turn,  and never have they felt like they didn’t belong more than in alexandria.  maybe it’s because they’ve gotten too accustomed to being on the road  —  or maybe it’s because they’ve always had their brother with them,   and now,  in a place where he might’ve actually been able to thrive in that hope he’s always had,  he’s gone.   

maggie is the only person that sasha doesn’t feel like screaming at, barking back and pushing her far, far away.  they wonder if maggie knows that.  they wonder if she’s using that to her own advantage to try to take care of sasha.  they’ve always been grateful for their friendship, but right now,  sasha doesn’t know what to say or how to accept the help she’s willing to give,  and that makes it easier, usually, to not say anything at all — but they can’t ignore her now. 

 ❝  — i gotta get better at hiding,  ❞   they mumble,  the annoyance clear in their tone,  but it’s not directed at maggie as much as it would be if this were anyone else.   they move towards them,  features void of emotion because they’re too tired to exert the energy.   ❝  why are you out here?  ❞   they ask bluntly,  knowing that maggie’s here for them,  but it’s easier to turn it around on maggie instead  —  to not have to tell maggie why they’re out here, first.

she turns on her heel to meet sasha when they decide to come out and greet her; sasha’s direct and decisive and maggie likes that, she appreciates their honesty and the way they don’t put on a mask or try to be anybody else but themself. she also knows they’ve been using this to keep people at bay because most people are afraid of realness, of being on the receiving end of a cold, empty stare that seems to pierce into the very core of one’s soul — not maggie, not when people are worth the wait and the effort, not when she cares for them, like she does for sasha.

there’s a smile on her face that doesn’t seem to go with the ambiance, but she keeps it up anyway. it’s warm and inviting, maybe a little innocent, too. she’s choosing to believe in this new place, to pay tribute her family like this: living a life they wanted her to have and couldn’t have for themselves, even if she’s hurting, too; even if she wants to take a break from it all.  

he doesn’t know these people other than the stories that she’s told along the way;  he doesn’t know this place other than what she’s offered up about it;  he doesn’t trust these people by his own accord.  but he trusts her  —  he puts his faith in her,  in the family that she’s provided him since his own dwindled,  and he knows that if maggie rhee believes in something,  then it’s worth taking a chance on himself.

if it was his own family and home in ruins,  she would be the first to offer to help him,  so this is no question for him at all.  his hand moves to rest gently on her shoulder,  the best way he knows to tell someone that he’s with them,  and he offers a small nod of his head.  ❝  no matter what’s lost  .  .  .  it’s still your home.  that much, you can count on.  and you’re not alone now,  either.  ❞   it’s spoken as a promise,  the edges of his lips curling into a grin.  ❝  ain’t gonna let you go at it alone.   we’ll go,  we’ll help them,  and after that  —   ❞   he nods towards her.  ❝  we figure out where our story leads us.  ❞   if that means she comes home and stays home,  she has his support.

eyes shut for a moment, exhale long and paced; his hand on her shoulder is exactly what she needs to be reminded that she’s been gifted with people who cared for and supported her. own hand comes to rest on another’s forearm, a light squeeze as if to say thank you. he nods and she nods back, promises are important for maggie, doesn’t matter the outcome, for her it’s more about the intentions behind them and she knows cole’s are every bit noble.

they haven’t found stable ground since the whisperers first showed up on their doorstep.  almost thought they did,  for a while,  which feels so foolish now —- after the fair, it felt like the skins couldn’t take anything more from them,  now they’re standing amongst a shell of what alexandria once was.  rosita was in the frontlines at hilltop;  she knows what it’s like to watch yet another community fall,  and none of them can afford losing this one,  either.  in the back of her mind,  she’s already trying to plan ahead,  figure out where they’ll head next,  how they’ll make it —– how to take care of coco through all of it.

before becoming a mother,  rosita might have been the first to volunteer for the mission maggie’s presented them with —- she can fight,  she can endure,  she can do what she needs to for her community on the offense.  she’s always been good at that;  but because then, that was because she didn’t think she had anyone waiting on her to come back alive.  it was okay if she didn’t make it, because at least she died fighting for her community.  but now — that little girl can’t afford to lose another parent, especially with gabriel already packing his bag to go,  too.

she doesn’t want to, because she knows he’s doing it for the right reasons, but she resents him for his eagerness to go.  

the worst part is that she doesn’t have an answer for maggie’s question,  and it’s frustrating,  because rosita has always had an answer for everything,  and if she doesn’t,  she finds one.  with this —  it’s above all their heads.  rosita knows in her gut that this mission of maggie’s won’t turn out the way anyone wants it to,  that blood will be shed and they’ll only invite another war into their lives, tormenting their loved ones yet again  —  but they’re out of options.  they’re out of ideas.  letting this place go and leaving is the only one that she can come up with, but even so —  where will they go?  so she doesn’t answer,  not yet,  arms crossed over her chest as she keeps her eyes down — until maggie speaks again.

she can’t help it, the way a soft, quick, empty laugh falls from her lips.  it’s the irony of the question – the speculation that maggie already knows the answer.   ❝  a few weeks ago?  ❞   she asks quietly,  lifting her head up and shrugging her shoulders.   ❝  my bags wouda already been packed,  ❞   she says simply.  she’s silent for a moment as she takes a deep breath.   ❝  but after what we went through at hilltop  .  .  .   ❞    she thinks about the fire,  the screams,  the blood.  it was bigger than any battle they’ve faced and they’ve never been so prepared.  they can’t go hunting for another fight.  they can’t.   ❝  —-  these assholes  .  .  .    you really know what you’re up against? ❞

she’s been out there on her own for too long to really understand that there will always be casualties, that this place, and the rest they all managed to keep strong and steady, and standing for as long as they did, all of them were special — not because of the location, or the walls they might’ve put up to keep the dead and other threats out, but because people believed in those places, they had faith in each other, they fought like hell to defend their homes... and even then, they’d find themselves on the losing side. how many time had it happened to them, to maggie and rosita? the reservations rosita has, they’re valid and if there was any other way, maggie would take them, she would back down and accept what she’s proposing is not only dangerous but insane, but it’s in the prolonged silence in which her question is met where she understands that this is, in fact, their last resort.

maggie knows rosita is also doing what’s best for the community, but she can’t stop thinking about the resources left in meridian, about how it was rightfully theirs and how them getting it back would make or break the situation they’re struggling with here. she’s also adamant in her fight for alexandria’s ground; she can’t lose another home, she can’t let hershel lose another home. this can’t be the childhood he’ll remember. and though she knows he would pack his little bag and follow her without making a sound if this one, too, fails to stand back again, maggie really wants for that not to be the case.

teeth chew at the corner of inside lip, flesh swelling with every nibble and pull; rosita laughs, a sound that saddens her, and maggie’s eyes remain on her. of course she knows that this force of a woman would’ve been the first one to fight, front line, determined and fierce. maggie has been away for too long, yes, but not long enough to forget who she’s talking with. part of maggie will never forgive herself for not being there with rosita, with all of them, protecting hilltop. maybe it wouldn’t have made any difference, but she can’t ever know now, can she? — at least she didn’t have to see it burn, and as much as she doesn’t want to drag another war back to alexandria because no, she doesn’t know what they’re up against, the clock is ticking not only on them, but on their children as well, and this is the choice she’s making. this will have to do.