#soupsspoons

Deanna had sent an announcement saying there would be a meeting that night in order to decide what they should do about Rick. Hannah knew what people were going to say, 'He's crazy', and 'He's dangerous', and 'This is all your fault'. In reality, the incident had been no one's fault. After everything she had heard Gabriel say and everything she's found out from Carl, Hannah knew the group had been through unimaginable situations. There was a reason they were so intimidating. They had to be.

Hannah found herself in her room, pacing back in forth between the bed and the window. Outside, she could still see people wandering in the middle of town, hoping to get one more glimpse at Rick or Pete before they were rushed away. After the fight broke apart, Hannah ran to her house, which wasn't too far from where it all went down. She didn't want to be there when they had to deal with the aftermath.

Hannah had never been the type of person to enjoy conflict. She rarely fought with people and she very seldom argued. She wasn't good at making decisions either, and yet here she was, pacing back and forth, trying to decide what to do. Hannah could see Deanna from her window. The woman was headed towards her own home, accompanied by her husband, Reg. Hannah wanted desperately for all of this to go away. She didn't want to decide whether or not to be scared of these people. She didn't want to have to be scared. And more than anything, she didn't want the new group to leave.

After grabbing the sweater she had thrown on her bed when she first got inside, Hannah finally decided she needed to talk to Deanna. She couldn't let her make this decision without understanding that what Gabriel said hadn't been true. These people were just as scared as they were. They're just as human. They deserved a chance to prove that.

When Hannah got to Deanna's house, she found the woman leaning against the wall of her porch, watching Alexandria continue on. Hannah couldn't quite decipher the look in her eyes. She looked angry, her brows were furrowed and her body was tight, but she also looked sad, like she had disappointed herself. Like she had disappointed her people.

"Deanna?" Hannah asked softly from the bottom of the steps. The woman blinked out of her state and smiled at the girl, though it seemed forced.

"I just," Hannah started, walking up the steps, "well I just wanted to talk to you about the meeting tonight."

Deanna sighed and moved off of the wall.

"I know it's scary, Hannah, but we will figure it all out."

"No, no that's not what I mean, um, I wanted to talk about Rick. About what your plan is." Hannah said quickly.

"Well, what's your plan?"

Hannah thought for a moment. What was her plan? What had she come here to say? Did she want Rick to be kicked out? Did he deserve it?

"It's just," She started hesitantly, moving closer to the woman in front of her, "We all knew about Pete."

"Hannah--" Deanna tried to cut her off.

"No. No, we all did. I know you did. And we didn't do anything about it."

"We couldn't do anything about it, Hannah. He is our doctor, we need him. I'm sorry, I truly am, but we all make sacrifices."

This caught Hannah off guard.

"Sacrifices? Who is sacrificing? Ron and Sam were being abused. Jessie was being beaten! That's not them sacrificing themselves for the good of the community. A leader doesn't just let that happen!"

Reggie heard the conversation outside and joined them on the porch, allowing Hannah to realize how loud she had gotten. She allowed herself a breath before continuing.

"Look, you said you couldn't do anything about it and I believe it was a hard decision. But that's the thing, we never do anything. At least these people, this group, they did something. Rick did something."

"What Rick did was unacceptable," Reg said.

"You're right," Hannah responded, "He shouldn't have pulled a gun. But he shouldn't have needed to in the first place! It's just-- what I'm saying is, yes, what Rick did was scary, but these people, they know what they're doing. And we need people who know what to do."

All Deanna responded with was a sigh, "I will do what I have to do."

And Hannah decided, Rick, these people, they deserved to stay in Alexandria.

—-

After leaving Deanna's house, Hannah found Maggie sitting in front of Rick's house, her head in her hands. Hannah had seen most of the group bring Rick there after Michonne broke up the fight. They were almost frantic as they did it, some seeming embarrassed by his actions and others almost proud. Either way, they wanted to be as far away from other people as they could.

"Hannah" Maggie called out as the girl passed by. Hannah looked at her confused as if it hadn't been her name that was called.

"Oh, hello" was all the girl could say. They stared at each other, not knowing what to say.

"Are you alright?" Hannah finally spoke, "you know after everything?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry about all that," Maggie said quickly, trying to be reassuring, "Rick was just frustrated."

"No, I get it." Hannah wondered if she should mention her conversation with Deanna. She wanted Maggie to know she was on her side.

"You know, um, I actually just went to talk to Deanna about that." Maggie looked almost nervous at what the girl had said.

"I told her I didn't want y'all to get kicked out."

"Really?" Maggie asked.

"It's just," Hannah started, "he did the right thing, just in the wrong way. You know?"

"Yeah" Maggie shuffled over on the porch, now making space for the girl to sit with her.

"Thank you for doing that, Hannah, it means a lot," Maggie said softly.

Hannah could tell this was hard for her. It must be horrible to watch your friend be exiled from the only safe place you have known in so long.

"I didn't know you knew my name?" Hannah laughed, breaking up the tension.

Maggie smiled at the girl.

"Well, I didn't for a while, but Carl mentioned you once or twice so I figured it out."

"He did?" It was Hannah's turn to ask.

"Yeah," Maggie smiled, "It's nice he has a friend here."

"Yeah"

---

That night Deanna rounded up any of the Alexandrians who wanted to take part in the vote. Hannah remembered seeing Mikey ask if he could come, to which Reg told him kids weren't allowed to attend. But as everyone stood around a small fire pit, Hannah stayed just past a brick wall, separating her from the group. She needed to know what the decision was. She needed to know if she had helped Rick.

There was only soft chatter as they all waited for Rick to appear. Hannah could see Maggie, Carol, Eugene, Abraham, and Michonne in the group, and yet Rick was nowhere to be found.

Deanna broke the whispers, "We're going to start," she said. Maggie quickly asked her to wait, reminding her that Rick and Glenn hadn't arrived yet. Deanna ignored her plea.

"It's already dark. We are going to start. We're gonna talk about what happened. Not the fight. Not what precipitated it. We're dealing with that." Hannah heard Deanna say. But Hannah knew what 'dealing with it' meant for them. Absolutely nothing.

"We're gonna talk about one of our constables. Rick Grimes. We are gonna talk about how he had a pistol in which he stole from the armory, and how he pointed it at people. And we're also gonna talk about what he said. I was hoping he'd be here." Hannah couldn't see Deanna as she spoke but she could imagine the way she looked. She could imagine the condescending smile she wore.

Some of the members of the new group chimed in, mentioning how Maggie had said Rick would be there. Hannah really did want him to show up. He deserved a chance to explain himself, at least to say he was sorry. She looked around the dark town in front of her, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man on his way to the meeting, but all she could see was the darkness that blanketed them, and the sounds of the creatures outside.

Hannah moved off the brick wall to look into the window of the Grimes house, seeing that there was a slight movement in the room. Maybe Rick was still inside, she thought. Hannah walked just below the window of the second floor, trying her best to hide from whoever could be inside. She peered her head back so that now she could see into what looked like a bedroom. It was similar to her own, with a twin-sized bed covered by a blue comforter. She moved to her right and Hannah could now see the back of someone sitting on the side of the bed. Pulling herself onto her toes, she realized it was Carl. He was sitting on his bed, just like he had when she found him on the porch after Deanna's party. Hannah could hear the group behind her talking, defending Rick as she had, but she continued to watch the boy. She blinked for a second before realizing he had turned to face her. He stared back, not saying anything. Hannah expected him to be mad, to be angry that she had seen him when he was obviously upset, but he didn't. He looked worried. Hannah had never seen him like that.

Carl continued to watch her, waiting for her to do something. She didn't know how she could help him in a moment like this, so all she did was give him a tight-lipped smile. He did the same, nodding his head slightly and then turning back to face his own window.

"Simply put..." Hannah heard as she tuned back into the meeting, "There is a vast ocean of shit that you people don't know shit about," She held in a chuckle at what must have been Abraham, "Rick knows every fine grain of said shit...and then some," Hannah's smile faded as he softly spoke the last part.

After Abraham finished, Maggie spoke about her feeling for Rick Grimes as well.

"My father respected Rick Grimes," She said, "Rick is a father, too. He is a man with a good heart. He feels the things he does, the things that he has to do. And all of us who were together before this place, no matter when we found each other, we're a family now. Rick started that, and you won't stop it. You can't, and you don't want to. This community, these people...that family, you'll wanna be a part of it too." Maggie finished.

"Before we continue," Deanna started, "I would like to share something in the spirit of transparency. Father Gabriel came to see me the day before yesterday."

Oh no.

"He said our new arrivals can't be trusted. That they were dangerous, that they would put themselves before this community."

Nothing she had said mattered, Hannah thought. Deanna had already made up her mind.

"And not one day later, Rick seemed to demonstrate all of these things, all at once. I had hoped Father Gabriel would be here tonight."

"I don't see him here, Deanna. You're just saying what someone said." Hannah could hear, what she thought was Jessie, saying.

"He's not here," Maggie added.

"Neither is Rick," Deanna stated and at that, Maggie excused herself.

Hannah couldn't listen anymore. She couldn't listen as everything she had tried to fix broke apart. Deanna was never gonna let him stay, Hannah knew that. She started to walk away from the group, she just wanted to rest now. But as she did, Hannah heard voices of shock ring out from where she had stood. She quickly ran back to her hiding spot, peeking around the side of the wall now. She covered her mouth with her hand as she saw Rick, covered in blood, standing over the body of a walker.

"There wasn't a guard at the gate," Rick said gruffly, "It was open. I didn't bring it in. It got inside on its own. They always will, the dead and the living. Because we're in here. And the ones out there, they'll hunt us, they'll find us, they'll try to use us...they'll try to kill us."

"You know I was-- I was thinking... how many of ya'll do I have to kill to save your lives." Hannah held her breath, "But I'm not gonna do that. You're gonna change. I'm not sorry for what I said last night. I am sorry for not saying it sooner. You're not ready, but you have to be. Right now, you have to be. Luck runs out."

It was everything Hannah had been thinking, it was everything she had been afraid of. What would happen when her luck finally runs out?

"You're not one of us!" Hannah heard a man yell out. When she looked, she saw Pete holding some sort of sword. Reg tried to calm him down, but as he did so, Pete swung the knife up high, slitting him across the throat. Hannah gasped as she watched the blood run from Reg's neck. She hadn't seen this much blood in so long. She couldn't watch. She couldn't listen as Deanna cried, as she called out for the man she loved. And so, Hannah ran, hearing a gunshot sound before she even reached her house.

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Hey Loveliesssss!!! I really like this chapter! it's pretty dialogue heavy so it's a bit longer than my usual posts, but I really hope you enjoyed!

We're finally done with season 5 (yayy) and we all know what's coming up so how do you guys think that will play out for Hannah and Carl??

"Who are those people," Hannah asked. As soon as she had seen the new group enter her home, she ran down the block to find Aaron.

"I found them over by the abandoned shed. They're a little on edge but I promise they won't hurt us." He tells her.

"Did they really have a baby? I don't think I've seen one since Ellie." Ellie was Mrs. Thompson's baby. She had arrived about 3 years ago and everyone immediately fell in love with the little girl. Hannah had offered to babysit her on the days when Mrs. Thompson grew too tired. She would run around the center of town with the girl, teaching her all sorts of games she had grown up with. By the time she was 4, it was apparent that Ellie was sick. She couldn't run for more than 10 minutes without needing a break, and she would wheeze with each breath she took. It wasn't the worst thing the Alexandrians had seen, especially compared to the monsters outside, so no one thought to worry. That is until Ellie found herself on the other side of the gates. No one really knows how she got out there, but most likely she had slipped through a gap in the fence, at least that's what Hannah thought. She couldn't have been gone longer than an hour before a horde of roamers found her. Hannah was only 12 when she heard Mrs. Thompson's screams, shrill and terrified, as she carried the body of her only daughter. They held a service that afternoon, clad with pink balloons someone had found at an old grocery store. Pink was Ellie's favorite color.

"Yeah, actually," Aaron responded, "She's a sweet little thing. They also came in with a boy about your age, Rick's son."

"Hmm," Hannah hummed. She could tell the boy was her age, maybe a little younger, "Which one was Rick?" She asked.

"Tall, scruffy beard, kinda scary." The Mountain Man. "Actually, I was wondering if, maybe tomorrow, you would think about giving them a tour. They might not even want it, but I figured seeing someone other than me or Eric could be nice for them. Just to help them feel a little more at home." Hannah knew Aaron's request was harmless, but after seeing how already uncomfortable the group was, she wondered if it was a good idea. She didn't want to be the one to ruin their first impressions of Alexandria. Hannah looked at the house that the group had filed into, watching wide shadows move behind the white-curtained windows. Maybe Aaron was right. Maybe seeing someone new, especially a kid, could be nice for them. Maybe she could show them that there truly is more to life than surviving.

---

Hannah could feel the splinters of the wooden basket digging into her palms. After talking to Aaron yesterday, she had gone home to find the welcome basket Deanna had given her when she first arrived. She had opened her front door, all those years ago, to find a small, picnic-type basket sitting on her porch. She looked around to see who dropped it off but was only met with Sam, who was playing with his red toy truck in the garden. When she opened the basket, there was a card laying on the top of a gray wool blanket. In the corner of the basket was a journal, two pencils-- only one of which had an eraser-- a can of sweet corn, and a can of tomato soup. Underneath the blanket, there was also a porcelain bowl and plate, along with a set of utensils. This, Hannah decided, was going to be what she based the new group's basket on.

It took her all that night to find the basket. Hannah had looked throughout the entire house, only to find it hidden at the top of the shelf in her closet. When she pulled it down, a piece of wooden weaving popped out of its place and scraped her palm, leaving a little stain of red along the basket. She quickly wiped it off and placed the basket on her dining table. First, she put in a woolen blanket, just like the one she was given. Though, it was blue, unlike hers, and somewhat softer. When Jessie, Ron's mom, heard she was planning on giving the new group a tour, she offered one of Sam's old blankets for the baby. Next, she put in some loose paper. She wanted to give them a journal but she wasn't sure how a group that big would use just one book. She had also gone to the pantry to ask Olivia if there was anything she could give to the group. She came back home with three jars of apple sauce and two cans of vegetable soup. Hannah then put in a couple of utensils and dishes from the community kitchen. Finally, on top of the pile, she placed a folded piece of paper. Across the front, it read, Welcome to Alexandria.

Now, though, as Hannah stood in front of the group's door, she felt frozen. Stupid. She wanted the group to feel at home here, she really did, but something about them was so new, so foreign to her. She breathed in the cool, Fall air and knocked on the red door. Hannah waited a moment, moving the basket from her left hand to her right, avoiding the scratch she had given herself. When no answer came, she knocked again. Hannah was sure she would know if the group had left the house, yet still, no one answered. Finally, a rattle came from the doorknob and revealed the man who had been carrying the possum. It was odd to see him without a weapon in his hand, though she had only seen him the one time. He seemed to fit better with it than without it.

Hannah stepped back when the man opened the door.

"Hm?" he grunted, looking down at her.

"Um, hi," Hannah greeted him, "I heard you guys just came in. It's, um, nice to meet you." She smiled and the man didn't answer. He continued to look at her until another person came from behind him. It was a woman this time, with short gray hair and a brown button-up. Behind her, Hannah could see other members of the group. Her eyes fell on the Mountain Man (Rick, she learned) and the cowboy, before hearing the woman speak.

"Hi, dear," she said kindly "Don't mind him. Are those for us?" Hannah liked this woman.

"Yes," she said, handing the basket to the woman, "I live just a couple houses down and I thought I'd bring some stuff over."

"That's very kind of you." The woman said, walking the basket over to a nearby table and placing it next to another, much larger, basket. She knew it didn't make sense, but Hannah felt a sort of jealousy that someone had gotten to the group before she did.

When the woman came back to the door, Hannah said, "Actually, um, Aaron, the man who brought you in, asked if I would give you guys a tour. Just to, you know, show you around a bit, tell you what the best places are," she chuckled to herself, trying to lighten the tension, "Only if you want, of course. I just thought it might be nice."

"Nah, we're good." The man said quickly, his voice thick with an accent, readying to close the door.

"Actually," The woman interrupted, looking at the man, "I think that's a good idea. I would love to get to know our new home." She grinned at Hannah, who couldn't help but smile back. "Would anyone like to go on a tour with me?" The woman called to the people behind her. A boy she hadn't seen yet, likely older than the cowboy, looked up and offered his hand. There was also a couple who stood and came up behind Carol, followed by a younger woman. "Carl, why don't you join them." The Mountain Man said. The cowboy moved from his place in the corner, his face still unamused with the situation. She could tell he didn't want to go, and still, after looking at his dad, he made his way beside the woman

Hannah Grant never imagined living in a place like Alexandria. Though her childhood house was similar, with its small, white, uniform homes, Alexandria was like nothing she had ever known before. The difference was in the way people acted -- how people felt. Everyone in Alexandria cared for one another. There was a great sense of community that pervaded her home. Each day Jessie would greet her in the pantry, chatting as she stocked up the canned foods. Most days the runners will have brought in things like soup or beans--something hearty, worth bringing back-- but every once in a while they would bring back a can of sweet corn. Hannah adored the days she found herself shelving the sweet corn. She would hold the can gently in her hand, remembering the times she would have killed for this moment, only to put it on the shelf to share with the others. That was how things worked in Alexandria.

She had finally been entrusted with pantry duty after Deanna thought gardening, Hannah's original job, wasn't the right fit for her. She wasn't necessarily bad at gardening, but she was much better at organization than she was at planting. After putting away the food in its rightful places, Hannah would pass through the middle of town to the white steps of the gazebo. She loved her time there. As close as everyone was, this was her place, her spot. Hidden under a broken floorboard were three books, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which Eric had given her after she told him she'd never read a Harry Potter book, Love in the Time of Cholera, and The Outsiders. She had decided to keep them hidden after Sam, Ron's little brother, had found Love in the Time of Cholera sitting on the bench and drew pictures all over its pages with crayons. Unwashable crayon. Jessie had felt so bad that, after scolding him, she offered to let Hannah use any book she had in her home. That was where she had gotten The Outsiders.

Hannah Grant never imagined living in the apocalypse, either. She had never imagined a world where the dead feasted on the living, pulling flesh from bone. A world where families were split and homes were ransacked. She never imagined that she could live in a world where every second was uncertain. One moment you would be sitting by a fire, embers tickling the skin on your legs. You would be feeling its heat blanket your hands that are held above the flame, letting it travel through your body. The next, you would be a mindless animal, looking for its newest horrific meal. One second you and your family depended on one another for survival, and the next they're afraid of what you have become.

She had grown up with her mother, Jennifer Grant, and her father, Malcolm Grant. Hannah couldn't remember much of how they looked at this point, but she was always told, as a child, that she had her mother's hair. Over the time she had been without her mother, Hannah's hair had darkened to a sort of reddish-blond, but she was comforted by the fact that her mother was still a small part of her. Hannah could remember the moments she had with her father, catching fish in a creek near their home. Once, they caught a four-foot salmon and Hannah had never been prouder. She could remember the way her father laughed as she held up her prize, it was a hearty laugh, deep and gruff. She could also recall the times she spent with her mother, sitting with her back against the woman's chest. Every Sunday, just before church, Hannah's mother would braid the girl's hair. Some days she would carefully create a singular braid down her back. On special days, like Easter or Christmas, Hannah's mother would give her two french braids, starting at the top of her head and falling to her back, tied off with a pink rubber band.

The only thing Hannah couldn't remember was the faces attached to those memories. She couldn't picture the woman raking her fingers through her caramel hair, nor the man lifting her to the old wooden boat as it entered the creek. All she had left, all that could have been a reminder, was a small photograph of the three of them. It wasn't really even a good picture. Hannah was sure she was blinking, though she couldn't quite tell with the quality, and her father's shirt had a rather large hole creeping up from his back along his neck. It was small, only about 4x6, but when Hannah could find the courage to look, that didn't matter. She would stare into the faces of the people who had raised her, holding onto every memory the image came with.

After the virus hit, and her parents were gone, that photo was all Hannah had.

---

When Hannah heard the gates open, she expected to see Micheal coming back from a run. They weren't particularly close, but he had always promised to bring Hannah her can if he could find it. Instead, in walked a group of eight people. They were led by a man akin to what Hannah believed a mountain man might look like. He was tall, with a graying beard, and his arms were wide at his sides, like an animal readying itself for a predator. Behind him was another man carrying a crossbow and a dead possum, laying limp with an arrow straight through its torso. There was also a woman with a sword tucked into her sheath. The first thought Hannah had was to run, to hide from the intimidating strangers. But then, Aaron and a limping Eric made their way through the group and her nerves subsided. She had always liked Aaron. He and Eric were sweet to her, offering her lunch if she hadn't had time to make it herself or letting her stay over if her own home became too lonely. When she first came to Alexandria, many of the adults offered to take her in. "We're all family" they would say, "You deserve to live with someone other than yourself." Hannah had never wanted to though. After almost 2 months alone in the woods, she felt less comfortable sleeping with people. People were ten times more dangerous than loneliness could ever be. You never know what could happen. But, that had been a long time ago, now almost four years later, she felt at ease with the people of Alexandria. Hannah trusted them not to hurt her.

She watched the group file through the metal gate, each one carefully eyeing their new surroundings. She was surprised to see that, in the arms of a boy in a cowboy hat, was a baby. Alexandria had been home to babies in the past, but most of them were grown up now, living sheltered lives within these walls. Hannah had never seen a group bring in a baby, however. The boy holding her had a hard face, smudged with dirt and sweat. His hair was brunette, with a slight wave that Hannah envied. As she watched from the porch of her home, hands gripped against the blue-painted wood, the group talked with Aaron and Eric. They seemed to be unsure, almost nervous, and yet they all hid it beneath a glare. Even the boy, whom Hannah had assumed might have been more scared than he let on, had his fists balled at his side and his back stiff as he looked to the leader. Hannah took her eyes off the people when a growl sounded from behind them. The sound wasn't as scary as it used to be, Hannah knew the walls protected her from the roamers. And still, when a woman in the back of the group pulled out her gun and shot it through the gate, Hannah felt a sense of relief.

"It's a good thing we're here." She could hear the Mountain Man say.

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