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Chapter Text

Hershel turning a year old was a milestone for their family, and it was around that time that they started slowly introducing him to an actual bed rather than his crib, an occurrence of usually once every few weeks.

One night, Alden was on the bed, his side against the mattress as he used an elbow to support his head. Beside him was Hershel on his back, kicking up his little feet as Alden kept a warm hand on the boy's bare tummy while Maggie prepared some clothes for her son to change into.

"How's that?" Alden asked Hershel as he softly tapped his hand on his tummy with a new beat to which the baby giggled louder to, an excited hiccup sounding from him.

"Alright, sweetheart," Maggie called their attention before slipping the shirt over Hershel's head, Alden helping her put the tiny arms through the sleeves as the boy wriggled at the soft feel of cotton. Maggie continued talking to him, telling him about her day, and as Hershel looked up at her and Alden back and forth, he babbled back, a proud smile on his face as he tried to talk to his mom the best way that he can.

Amidst Hershel's barely coherent attempts at phrases, there was that exact moment Maggie's own words stopped in a sudden and her head turned towards Alden, his face mirroring the same amazed shock at what they heard.

"Did he—" Alden looked back and forth between her and the boy.

"I think?" Maggie looked down again at her son, eyes wide in anticipation as she asked, "Love, did you say something?"

Hershel seemed to like the attention he was getting, his wide smile an indication, some drool even coming out from his mouth. Alden wiped it off, and the boy responded with a soft giggle at his cloth-covered touch, his eyes then going back to his mother as his minimal laughter blended into an enthusiastic, "Mama!"

Maggie gasped in much amazement and adoration, she whispered, "That's my boy," before leaning in to plant a kiss on his head. Hershel indeed cherishes his mother's kisses, his arms stretching up and around as Maggie pulled away, the happiness still evident in his eyes along with his movements, almost hitting Alden in the face.

"Easy there, old sport," he said, and there was a snort that came from Maggie.

"What?" he asked as he reached out a finger to Hershel, to which the boy took in his grasp.

"The nickname," she mentioned with a nostalgic smile, remembering the sound of his voice when he read that same nickname aloud from a book seemingly such a long time ago.

"He used to hear it before he was even born," Alden recalled, then turned to Hershel. "I wonder if you'll remember that, huh, old sport."

Alden leaned forward and bumped the tip of his nose against Hershel's cheek, and once he started to pull away, the boy followed him with his gaze, full of wonder and curiosity.

"Old sport," Alden repeated, seeing the boy blink up at him, his sweet smile growing bigger at the repetitive mention of the nickname.

"Who calls you that, huh?" Alden cooed with a smile of his own, the question coming out more of a rhetorical kind, not quite expecting an answer, but even the earlier events didn't quite prepare him for Hershel's second word, something spoken so innocently and so softly, but with as much appreciation as when he said his first.

Alden felt the way his heart seemed like something warm was poured over it, then, a skipped beat before speeding up as his mind comprehended Hershel's words as the boy peered up at him.

"Dada..."

Everything felt like it went on a pause after that. Seconds ticked by as the overwhelming mix of panic and joy filled him in before he was able to look at Maggie, only to see her already watching him, a fond smile on her lips and a familiar longing in her eyes.

Alden did not know what to say. A part of him felt like he had the whole world in that moment, as if hearing a confirmation he didn't know he was seeking. But then there was also the part of him that felt guilty and filthy and sorry that he was the one who got to hear Hershel say that, and not the one who was rightfully and fatefully reserved for such a title.

"Yeah, that's right," Maggie's words snapped him back to the moment, putting a comforting hand on his leg before looking down at Hershel.

"You could call him that..." she whispered, and added, "...like a second dad," with a nod of approval. When she looked back up at Alden, he could see the tears that welled up in her eyes, but the smile remained on her face as she thought about Glenn and looked at the man in front of her, silently thanking her lucky stars that she had the chance to be happy with them in her life.

"I'm sure he's listening somewhere," he whispered back, reaching out a hand to her cheek, the pad of his thumb gliding across her skin as he wiped off a tear.

She gave him a nod, then caught his hand in hers. For a brief moment, she squeezed his hand and turned her head towards it, placing a kiss on his palm before letting go and turning to Hershel. Seeing her—their boy's eyes already half closed, Maggie fixed the bed around them and got them all settled for sleep, Hershel's growing body warmly wrapped in the blanket and the arms of two people who love and adore him.

•

The day after that was when Alden left for a two-day trip to the Sanctuary, Hershel's little voice somehow still echoing in his head, that tiny voice that managed to make him smile as he did his work as if welding metal and making structural foundations were the happiest moments of his life.

When he got back to Hilltop, the sight of Hershel sitting on his crib while playing with his toys welcomed him once he opened the door to their room. Looking to the side, he noticed Maggie bent down by the bed, changing the sheets, and he couldn't help the proud smile from spreading on his face upon hearing that she was humming 'You Are So Beautiful'. It felt normal. It was like coming home after a long day at the office. Something he would've wanted in the old world, something he never thought he'd ever have after the undead took over, but meeting Maggie and having Hershel rekindled his hopes, his dreams, and it gave him so much more to fight for.

He set his bag down by the closet and took off his shoes before fishing out a clean set of clothes to change into, replacing the ones he wore to work before walking over towards Hershel's place in his crib.

"Hey, buddy, I'm home," he said as he briefly smoothed a hand on the boy's head, letting out a hum when Hershel looked up at him with the feel of his touch. Letting him get back to his toys, Alden moved towards the bed just as Maggie was finishing up on fixing the pillows back in place after changing the pillowcases. He took a place behind her and stood there, placing his hands on her waist, the weight of his touch making her pause, a deep inhale seeped into her lungs. As she straightened up, she could feel him stepping closer to her, his body meeting her back. He fully wrapped his arms around her waist, then rested his chin on her shoulder near where her neck meets the rest of her body, maximizing the contact, hugging her as if it's the last time.

"I missed you," he breathed, his voice low, and it came out seductive even without trying to. Maggie placed a hand on top of his, thumb mindlessly running along the skin—these hands were the ones that held her through the night, cared for her, cherished her even when she didn't feel like she deserved it.

"It's only been two days," she noted with a sly smile, her other hand reaching up behind her, fingers tangling with his delicate curls as she gently combed through them.

"I still missed you," he whispered against her body, almost inaudible as his lips met her clothed skin in the form of a kiss. Her response was a satisfied hum. In the cases of travels, chores, and Hershel sleeping in between them, Alden hasn't had much time to hold her as much as he used to, and definitely not as much as they both wanted. He missed her dearly, and he wasn't afraid to show that. He was more afraid that he might not be showing it enough.

She turned around in his arms, facing him, seeing that lazy smile on his face the moment their eyes met. Placing her hands on his shoulders, her fingers worked in gentle pulses, massaging the tension away, eyes hooked on his, and definitely not missing the way he relaxed more when she stepped closer, their toes touching.

"So," he started with a deep exhale. "What did I miss while I was gone?"

Maggie's hands worked their way up, the tips of her fingers briefly grazing over his jaw before putting them back down, resting on the back of his neck.

"Gregory called for an election."

Alden's brows furrowed in disbelief, and she grinned at his expression.

"Really. It's true."

"Since when is he pro-democracy?"

"Since yesterday, apparently."

He nodded, more to himself than to her, a part of him remained skeptical about it, and he was sure she was, too.

"Voting happens two weeks from now," she informed, then added with a scrunch of her nose, "Gregory's been friendly. It's a little weird."

Alden let out a chortle with a shake of his head. "But that's good, right? Friendly is good."

She lifted a shoulder in a shrug, putting the silent worry on rest for the timebeing.

"Try not to think too much about it," he said, fully knowing through experience how her trust is a delicate thing not easily given.
"I'm with you no matter what happens," he reassured. "You know that, right?"

She nodded. It was one of the only things she was sure of nowadays.

He leaned forward with a soothing smile, and placed a big kiss on both of her cheeks, briefly seeing her giddy expression when he pulled away a little only to bring her closer to him, pulling her into a hug that she returned just as happily, one of her hands moving up to the back of his head, keeping him close.

"What was that for?" she asked after some time, their arms still not letting go of each other.

Even when she couldn't see his face, she could tell he was proudly smiling as he replied, "For good luck."

And she felt like she was going to win the whole world, and not just the election.

She pulled away from him a little, their faces just a few inches away from each other. Their bodies remained pressed together, and Maggie brought a hand up to his face, her fingertips tracing over the faint tired lines. He was still so young—in his mid twenties, and yet, he already knew what he wanted in his life, and he worked hard for it. She admired that.

"Come here," she said as she pulled away more from him, tugging him along until his legs met the edge of the bed. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she nudged him down to sit on the mattress.

She stepped back a little, and he immediately asked, "Where are you going?" His voice was sleepy and a telltale of how tired he actually was, the desire to just rest and hold her in his arms took over him.

"Nowhere," she answered, putting a hand on his shoulder as a support, and started to lower herself down to straddle his lap, his ears turning a light shade of red as he reached over to place his hands on her waist again, pulling her close until she was settled.

"Well, this is nice," he commented after clearing his throat. She chuckled and placed her arms over his shoulders, pulling him close to another hug, one of her hands resting on the back of his head to guide it towards her shoulder where he sighed contentedly, his eyes closing as he loosely wrapped his arms around her waist, the smell of her shampoo hitting his nose helped him relax even more.

She closed her eyes, too, and thought about what she wanted to say.

"I've been thinking about what Hershel said," she whispered softly, running a hand up and down his back.

Alden kept his eyes closed, but tilted his head a little so his voice would be a little less muffled from being against her shoulder.

"He said, like, two words." His brows scrunched up a bit.

"Hmm, he called you his dad," she recalled, and his eyes slowly opened.

"Maggie..." He gently pulled away from her a little to see her face.

"Hey," she said immediately, hands going to cradle his face. "I'm glad he did," she confessed, and she watched his features soften, the weight of the worry that she might've thought he was trying to replace Glenn evaporated.

"Glenn will always be his dad," she said as a matter of fact, and looking directly into his eyes, she added, "but I don't see a problem in you being one, too."

His eyes searched hers, and all he saw was sincerity as she said her words. His lips parted slightly, like a shocking announcement was made, his shallow breaths faintly tickled her face.

He thought back to how young he was when the world ended. His mind focused on college and being an engineer, and he remembered how his friends around him dated, eloped, broke up, and all sorts of things. In the back of his mind, he imagined what it's like to have the family he always thought he'd have, but he knew he'd have to be the man his future wife deserved, so, he worked hard, even when his dream of engineering got replaced by surviving. He knew that person is out there, and when things got hard for him, he prayed that she was alive and living a good life. He wasn't that much of a religious man, his faith hit rock bottom when his brother died, but even then, with what little faith he had left, he found himself praying, asking for a miracle, to keep that woman safe—even if he hadn't met her yet, even if he'll never meet her. He always hoped for the best for her.

Meeting Maggie convinced him his prayers were answered.

"You deserve it, and even Hershel knows it," he heard her say, and he let out a gratified sigh before leaning towards her, resting his forehead against her shoulder and hugging her body close to his. His head tilted forward a bit, lips briefly meeting the exposed skin by her collarbone.

Maggie's hand went to his shoulder, applying a little pressure as she pushed him back a little so she could see his face. Putting two fingers under his chin, she guided him to look up at her, the tips of their noses almost touching, and she made the decision to lean closer until his skin was against hers, foreheads touching, and their noses closed in on whatever little space existed between them seconds ago. They could feel each other's breath, their lips close, but not touching.

"You are his dad, Alden," she whispered, lips almost like a ghost hovering over his.
"He loves you."

"And I love him," he replied sincerely, biting back another confession that he wasn't sure they were ready for just yet, but he knew his feelings were getting dangerously close to overflowing.

•

Maggie felt like a mother figure to a lot of people throughout her years. It wasn't something she expected as a college dropout who flunked her classes. But then she met Carl, and Judith came along. Years later, Enid crossed her path, and Maggie became pregnant with her own child and took responsibility over Hilltop's people during the war along with the precious angel that is Gracie that came into her life.

Hilltop became Maggie's home, and its people became her family. She treated their children like her own, and everything was set in stone when she won the election.

As she stood in that platform shaking Gregory's hand, a smile mixed with bitterness evident in his face, Alden watched from the crowd with a wide proud smile, hands clapping and cheering along with the others, congratulating the official leader that he already long considered as his queen.

Once the crowd dissipated, and the candidates along with Jesus who made the announcement and counted the ballots stepped down from the platform where the announcement was held, Alden tamed down the urge to run up to her and spin her around in his arms. Instead, he waited patiently until she settled her affairs that day and he worked on his usual chores around the community.

Maggie was already in their room when he got there, her back towards him as she peeked through the window, looking over the successful bliss of the product of everyone's hard work through the years.

"Congratulations, Miss President," he chirped after closing the door behind him.

She turned around at the sound of his voice, her lips curled up as she met him halfway, quickening her pace and throwing her arms around him, his own arms wrapping securely around her waist as he lightly lifted her off the ground and spun her around.

"The good luck kiss was effective, was it?" he grinned after she was set on the ground again.

"Yeah, definitely."

"I'll be glad to give you more, if you like," he offered with a teasing smile that earned him a playful slap on the shoulder.

Staying within his arms, she asked, "How are things going at the rendezvous?" Her expression going back to neutral, and through the focus in her eyes, it's like he could see the wheels turning in her head.

"Okay, business as usual," he commented, meeting her stern look.

"We're almost finished in setting up the headquarters for the bridge construction."

She gave a thoughtful nod and let out a low hum before replying. "I guess that means we'll barely talk again for some time."

He pulled her closer to him at the thought of that.

"I'll focus on the work here, make runs and inventory on what you guys need. I'll just be passing by you while you work with the others," she stated, recalling busy days like clockwork.

"Jealous?"

"Definitely not," she shook her head.
"You still come home to me anyway."

He tilted his head to the side in agreement, and she felt the puff of breath that came from him as his heart sped up. He was always aware of how she made him crazy, sometimes, he thinks of it as a joke that she might as well give him a heart attack one of these days.

He steadied his hold on her waist, making sure she won't trip as he leaned close to her face and bumped his forehead against hers, nudging her backwards as he continued to step forward until her back met the wall, a faint grunt escaping through her lips.

Her hand trailed up to touch his face, her thumb making gentle strokes over his skin, feeling the heat on his cheeks when she placed a brief kiss on his neck while her other hand rested on the back of his head, fingers buried in his hair as her fingertips light scratched on his scalp.

Putting his forehead against hers and eyes hooking on her green ones, he whispered,
"You are my home."

•

Danger has been a big part of Maggie's leadership and in her life in general. It was always there, just lurking in the shadows, and all she could try is do her damnedest to keep the people around her safe. But it's not enough. It never is. She plans, and fate laughs. Or maybe she was getting too happy that fate decided it was time for her to remember that they will never be fully safe, not in a world like this.

It was during a supply run to the Smithsonian Museum to retrieve farming supplies. Some seeds, a plow, and a colonial wagon. There weren't a lot of equipment in terms of quantity, but one was enough to serve as a model for their blacksmiths to replicate and send to the other communities, especially the Sanctuary that's still in the process of getting back on its feet. Things were going quite well until Ezekiel almost took a swan dive into a mass of walkers when the glass flooring shattered to pieces, but luckily enough, the Kingdom didn't need to find a new King just yet.

Once they got out of the museum and was on their way back home, it was when she could breathe easily again with Enid by her side and Alden riding on a horse somewhere behind them. But it was also then when her cup overflowed with happiness until it spilled and spilled, and then there was nothing left but aching emptiness—or at least that's what it was like when she wasn't drowning in sorrow and the pool of her own tears.

"Ken, just stay awake," she remembered begging as she knelt down beside his body in the middle of the road, and from her place, she could see Enid's pale face as she performed first aid, Ken's flesh was bloody and torn on one arm.

"My sweet boy," she breathed, holding onto his hand as he looked up at her, the fear welling up in his glassy eyes at the thought of what's to come.

"Ken, just look at me," she instructed, the rush of panic getting more and more to her at the sound of Siddiq's hurried commands, and the walkers growling nearby made her uneasy despite knowing Rick and Alden wouldn't let the undead get to them.

"Hey, remember the horse ride we plan to go on next week?"

Maggie placed her other hand on his cheek, feeling his weak nod, almost forced as he struggled for his breath.

"Tell me where you want to go. Wherever it is, I'll take you there. We'll go there."

Through her peripherals, she could see Enid lift up Ken's shirt, and the medic's pause made Maggie's blood run cold.

"Enid?" she called shakily, looking over to her side, her sight being welcomed by the fresh bluish bruise in the shape of a horseshoe on Ken's pale body.

Ken let out a shaky breath, his hand tightening on hers for a moment.
"Tell my mom and dad..."

He trailed off, and Maggie felt his shudder through her, and the weight of his eyelids became too much to bare, his eyes falling close. She let out a sharp exhale as she called for him, her voice cracking at the end. She looked up at Enid and Siddiq, and a tear rolled down on the cheek of the young woman in front of her.

"Do something!" Maggie begged desperately, her own cries blocking out everything else as the medics continued to stare blankly at the lifeless body in front of them. "...please."

The funeral came that night, and Maggie sat on the balcony floor, looking at the people gathered downstairs through the spaces in between the columns in the railings. People came and went in her vision, but her eyes seemed stuck on the wooden box where Ken's body laid inside, quiet and unmoving. The cold air blew, but the weight of grief was paralyzing, it glued her on the ground, making sure she stayed put and saw what she was being blamed for.

The approach of soft footsteps sounded from behind her.

"The funeral is almost starting," Alden notified as he stood on the space beside her.

"You should go, then," she said, sounding bland and lifeless, not looking up at him. He could sense something was wrong—something more than just the fact that they had lost someone she treated as her own son. He crouched down beside her, and the slight brush of his arm against hers made her laugh humorlessly.

"You should really go. You shouldn't miss it."

He stayed another minute more, and she finally looked at him, her eyes red and brimmed with tears. "I..." she took a deep inhale and let it out slowly with a shake of her head. "I'm not allowed there."

She watched as his face scrunched up, then turned into something that resembled pity as he said the words, "I'm sorry."

She just nodded, averting her eyes to the floor. "Maybe it's better for everyone this way."

"He would've wanted you to be there," he comforted.

"I'll say my goodbyes from here," she said as she raised her head up again, the action causing the tears to finally fall down after holding them at bay for too long. She felt the pad of his thumb meet her cheek, his flesh dissipating droplets of tears into mere smears of moisture on her face.

And when he left, Maggie fully succumbed to the crushing ache in her chest, apologizing over and over again to the soul of the young man she should've protected better.

The ceremony started, and a eulogy was given. Maggie got up from her position on the floor some time ago, Hershel now nestled comfortably within her arms as they looked over Hilltop, seeing the way Alden's lips moved, accompanying the sorrow flooding from his eyes as the words of his song flowed through the night. Maggie's eyes fleeted towards the wooden box once again, the air feeling like it was rushing out of her lungs, knowing that this would be her last time seeing Ken. Her feet unknowingly stepped forward at the sight of people lifting up the wooden cover for the box, the plank intruding her vision as her eyes desperately tried to get one last glimpse of Ken before they covered him up—it was the last time, and yet, she couldn't even see him up close, couldn't even look at his face one last time and whisper a wish for him to find peace.

"We're gonna miss you, Ken," Alden said from his place, raising his hand that held onto a glass of alcohol.

"Heaven's a better place for having you."

When he got back to their room, Maggie was laid on her side on the bed, the blanket covering her body up to the bottom of her chin. Her eyes remained open, staring blankly ahead even when he came into her line of sight.

"He's resting now," he said quietly, and for a tiny fraction of a second, she pictured Ken resting back on his bed, not fully gone, just resting, as if she'll see him again in the stables tomorrow, as if someone would still be waiting for her on the day they planned to go on that horse ride. Blinking out of the moment's fantasy, she curled her fingers around the blanket from under it, lifting it up a little, inviting Alden into bed. He shrugged off his outer shirt and kicked off his shoes before climbing on the bed with her, crawling towards the space the edges of the blanket didn't quite touch as she kept it up. She waited for him to get settled on his side to face her, then she fixed the blanket over him, her hand not going back to her side, but rather, she let it rest on his upper arm. He scooted even closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist, his other arm going under her head as a pillow. She snuggled closer to his warmth in a cold and dreadful night, her forehead rested against his chest, and she felt the gentle quiver as a song sounded from him.

"'Tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone," his voice was low, almost like a whisper, just loud and clear enough to follow the melody. He felt the warm gush of air on his chest when she let out a shaky sigh, ready to succumb to the weight that she's been carrying. The loss and the grief. The pain and the blame. She held him tighter as he sang the words that hit too close to home, "All her lovely companions are faded and gone..."

Maggie opened her eyes to the sound of the start of Hershel's cries. It was one of those cries where he whines for a moment then stops, and then continues again. Knowing it's his process before louder shrieks, Maggie carefully pulled away from the comfort of Alden's arms. She let his arm gently fall on his side, and she fixed the blanket over him, cherishing the peace he's getting. His lips were parted slightly, steady breaths escaping through, and Maggie felt guilty for having to leave him alone with a cold and empty space on the other side of the bed. She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before getting out of the bed and getting to Hershel, smoothing a hand over his abdomen.

"It's alright, Mommy's here," she whispered, a hand reaching under the boy's bum and leaning close to check for the smell in case his diaper was full. When that didn't seem to be the problem and his cries started to get louder, she placed one hand on the back of his head, the other one going under his body to lift him up.

"Want to go for a walk?"

She carried him up in her arms then made her way around the room, sparing a glance at Alden's sleeping figure.

"Dad is sleeping," she gently hushed to her boy, the word a foreign but welcome one in her tongue. She passed by the windows as she walked towards the stroller, noticing that it was still night time, not too late, but she made sure that the cover that serves as a shade for the stroller was in use so that the fog wouldn't get to Hershel once they went out of the house.

They went around the community, strolling through cobblestones until Hershel calmed down, the fresh air feeling good to the both of them. On their way back to the house, another pair of feet came into Maggie's sight while she looked down at her son.

"Tough night?" Gregory asked when she lifted her eyes up to see him.

"Yeah," her lips pressed together in a thin line. "Tough night."

Hershel's coo brought Maggie's attention back to him as Gregory proceeded to talk about her winning the election fair and square, an acknowledgement she didn't expect to be having a conversation about with him.

"It's hard not knowing what your place is. I'm sure you have one if you want it," she advised, looking into his eyes with all seriousness. If he was truly accepting the election results, then she was more than willing to accept change and start working on a better relationship with him.

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug of acknowledgement. Noticing Hershel squirm around a little to find a more comfortable position in his stroller, she spoke again after a minute passed between them.

"Anyway, I should get my kid to sleep," she informed, starting to move the stroller again when Gregory raised a hand to halt her.

"Oh, Maggie, I meant to tell you," he started and she paused. "When we were burying Ken before, I didn't want to say anything... not now..." She frowned at the reminder of that.

"But it looked like someone had defaced Glenn's grave."

Maggie didn't hear most of the words that came after he said that, confusion and irritation building up.

"Probably no big deal. Check it out tomorrow," he dismissed and started to walk away with a quick "Good night," to which she briefly returned before scrambling to go to the graveyard.

Confusion was the first thing that hit her when she got there, seeing Glenn's grave completely fine and just like how she left it. The second thing that hit her was definitely a harsh slap on her face before a hand landed over her mouth and the pressure of an arm keeping her contained. She barely caught onto the fact that Hershel got thrown off his stroller until his cries filled her ears. The panic the hostility brought sent her reeling backwards, forcing the attacker back too until they hit the wall of one of the trailers. Enid's voice blended with Hershel's cries as she called for her, and the help she attempted to provide ended up putting her in danger as she got pushed back, her head hitting a cement block.

Maggie fought back harder. She swore she wasn't going to lose any more people that she loves that night. Pushing the hooded person off and away from her, Alden came rushing into view after waking up next to an empty space on the bed and with the stroller gone, the night getting so late but Maggie still not having brought Hershel back inside told him something was wrong.

Earl's eyes barely focused on anything when Maggie pulled the hood of his jacket down. He wasn't thinking straight enough to plan something like this, and even if he was sober, she doubted he'd do something his late son wouldn't want. Earl didn't put himself up to this. Maggie knew exactly who to blame.

She rushed to pick up Hershel from the ground, caressing his head and checking for injuries while also moving towards an unconscious Enid. The bleeding from the girl's head certainly made her forgot about her own blood trickling down her temple onto her cheeks from her injury. Looking over at Alden, he moved towards them in silence and gathered Enid in his arms. He met Maggie's eyes as he stood up, and he wanted to tend to her so badly, but the moment didn't last long. Maggie walked away first, cradling Hershel in her arms while Alden went on a different direction, bringing Enid to the infirmary.

Jesus barely even touched his bed that night when he heard Hershel's cries and Maggie's voice trying to calm him down through the halls. Stepping out of his room, Jesus felt the worry wake him up at the sight of Maggie's cheeks stained with crimson red.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asked frantically as he rushed to them. The moment she took notice of him, she adjusted her son and stretched her arms out towards her friend, to which Jesus immediately responded by reaching over to get Hershel when she passed the boy over.

"I have to take care of something," she rasped, leaving Jesus confused and worried, wrapping a protective arm around the boy.

Maggie was torn between being disappointed with the stunt Gregory pulled and being disappointed with the fact that she actually thought he was a changed man. After all the chances she had given him, her supply already hit rock bottom at his shameless second attempt at having her killed that night.

She wasn't able to go back to sleep again after that, knowing that Gregory was still there, just detained. She spent the hours checking on Enid and watching over Hershel as he slept in their room after taking him back from Jesus with a brief explanation of what happened. Alden tried to convince her to go back to sleep, but she didn't budge. She didn't let him tend to her wound, she didn't even let him touch her. She was too on edge. He sat on the bed and waited her out, but ended up falling asleep about three hours into the middle of the night. Maggie remained watching over him and their boy, her jaw clenched as her thoughts circled around the punishment she planned to give.

•

The next night came and Maggie stood tall as she took in the sight of Gregory with a noose around his neck.

"What's going on?" was Alden's question to Jesus when they met on the hallway, looking just as confused as him even after answering, "They said Maggie wanted all of us out there, well, except kids, apparently." What was about to happen wasn't immediately realized by the two. Even in usual public announcements, children weren't highly involved, and the two men assumed that there will be an open discussion regarding Earl and Gregory's attack. Turns out, the leader already made up her mind.

People were gathered late at night, she made sure of that, made sure to announce to put the children to bed first so they wouldn't have to see what she was about to do. When Alden and Jesus reached the front of the crowd, the sight almost made their insides churn.

"I don't want to do this. But people need to understand that at Hilltop, the punishment fits the crime," Maggie said, sounding indifferent, and Alden watched her, his lips parting and closing at the attempt to say something as he looked back and forth between her and Gregory's state, the rest of her words seemingly not being processed by his mind.

"Maggie—"

He lost all chances to reason with her when she gave a nod to Daryl. Alden's head turned as quickly as Gregory's neck snapped when he heard Michonne's voice screaming "Wait!" when a couple of kids came into sight and caught the tail end of the execution.

"Get the children back to bed," Maggie ordered firmly, horrified by what the kids might've witnessed. Once they were ushered back to their homes, the leader once again looked around at her people, eyes hard and set in stone.

"I made this decision. But this is not the beginning of something," she said, a slight warning in her voice. "I don't want to go through it again."

Alden looked at Gregory's body as it swung back and forth, the creaking of wood and the continuous chirp of crickets became deafening at the sound of silence that settled within the people.

"Cut him down."

The citizens of Hilltop went back to their homes and settled for the night, but things were just starting to crumble between Alden and Maggie as he followed her through the halls of the Barrington house. Quickening his pace, he caught up to her just a few steps before she reached their bedroom door.

"Alden, what—" she huffed after he placed a firm hand on her lower back and led her into her office, away from where Hershel was. She quickly turned around to face him at the sound of the click of the door after he shut it behind them, her brows dipping in a frown.

"What the hell was that?" he rasped while pointing a sharp finger towards the door, his tone more aggressive than she ever heard him before.

That definitely didn't sit well with her, and she knew he clearly saw it at the way her eyes narrowed.

"What the hell is this?" she bit back just as venomous, head tilting to look around them for a brief moment. Over the past year and a half, they had fights before, minor ones. Like little bickering sessions every partnership goes through; who's going to tend to Hershel when he cries in the middle of the night, whose turn is it to change the diapers. Then there were bigger ones, too; requests for even more assistance to the Saviors, secrets that almost put Hilltop in peril.

But this one was different. They both knew it. They saw it in each other's eyes. The fire, the strength, but also the fear that in the end, they'll hurt each other even if they don't want to.

"You hanged someone to death. In front of everyone. In front of children," he harshly recalled, the ends of his voice struggling to keep steady at the mention of the kids.

"This isn't you," his voice faded towards the end, almost sounding like he was pleading.

She shook her head at him, swallowing the lump in her throat, letting out a strained, "Don't do that."

She took a step back from him. "You don't get to do that after what I did for this family. You think I wanted to kill my own people? It was him or our family. I chose us."

"Tell me what the hell is wrong with that," she dared, her eyes settling with a challenging gaze.

"I don't know," he lifted a shoulder in a shrug, but she was sure it was just the calm before the storm, and she knew she was right when he continued after a humorless laugh, "Maybe the fact that you cry yourself to sleep about the life that was taken from us and yet you just take one from others."

She let out a scoff and threw her hands up in frustration in a way that also mocked him. "Well, I'm sorry that I'm no longer the little miss perfect that you liked. Sucks for you, Alden. You picked a killer to be your partner."

She took another step away, turning her back to him, the absence of the look of disappointment on her face directed at him made him think a little clearer for a moment. It was going all wrong, but he certainly didn't want to end things over a man whose body is now cold and dead.

Taking a deep breath, he said, "We could've talked about this," his voice low and calm.

"I don't need to tell you everything," was her reply, as calm as he was, but the bitterness remained, and he wished he had enough control to bite back his retort.

He didn't.

"Oh, yeah, because that worked so well for us, Maggie."

Her turn to face him was sharp, as sharp as the blades he swore he saw in her eyes.

"Oh, you mean when you and Jesus went behind my back to deliver more supplies to the Sanctuary—"

"Maggie..."

"—and then when crap hit the fan, you came running back to me to fix your mess," her voice got louder, and so did his.

"And I promised I wouldn't do it again!" He raised his hands in exasperation.

"Well, I didn't promise jack squat," she deadpanned, and when he didn't come up with anything to say, she did.

"Gregory tried to have me killed—and that I can let go," she started firm and steady, her steps bringing her closer to him, eyes staring directly into his brown ones.

"But he hurt both Enid and Hershel—that I cannot stand. What was I supposed to do? Wait until he comes into our room and slits your throat?" She tried not to react so visibly at the shiver that went down her spine at the thought of losing him.

He stayed silent for a few seconds, then, almost in a mournful whisper, he said,
"You took a life, Maggie...a public execution..."

And it scared him. He wasn't scared of her, no. He was scared of what might happen after that. He heard her loud and clear when she said that the execution isn't the beginning of something, but until when is that going to stick? How much time do they have until someone takes it as an example—as some sort of free pass to do the same and kill someone within the community. The thought of Maggie blaming herself and drowning in guilt she shouldn't have to carry killed him inside.

"Don't act so innocent," she shook her head at him, the tone of her voice coming out even more bitter than she intended.

"We both have blood on our hands, and you know it," she spat, and she didn't need to be too harsh about it. The truth itself struck them both like lightning.

"I'm not saying we don't. I'm saying we don't want to add another name on the list."

"Your list," she strongly stated, clenching her hand in a fist to stop herself from pointing at him. "I have no problem adding another one in mine," she made sure to add that in.

"Is my name on your list?" he blinked at her, eyes narrowing with contempt.

"'Cause you're starting to sound like Negan."

He wished he kept his mouth shut.

Maggie's posture went rigid, her jaw clenching tight as she stepped further into his space, her eyes not breaking the eye contact.

"What did you say?"

"Maggie, I—"

"Say it again, Alden. I dare you."

He kept his mouth shut this time. Maggie stared up at him for a few seconds more, then walked away, sidestepping him and heading towards the door. Her hand rested on the cold metal of the doorknob, she didn't know what was colder; the metal, their relationship, or Ken and Gregory's corpses.

She opened the door, then turned her head back to him for a moment.

"You want to know if I have your name on that list? We continue this fight and it might as well be."

The door wasn't slammed shut, but her last remark was enough to give them both the sense of dread and pain to accompany them that night.

•

The next few days after that fight felt like a childish play. They avoided each other, and it was highly noticeable, like portraying estranged characters in a film, but underneath it all will always be the two people who deeply care about each other. The night their fight ensued, Maggie went straight to their room after leaving the office. Aiming to finally rest her sleep deprived and insanely stressed body, she debated locking him out of the room, but immediately decided against it. It was a stubborn thing to think about. They fought, it wasn't new, and she wasn't going to keep Hershel from him just because things are messier now than their previous fights.

She might've refused to lock him out, but she didn't stop herself from making sure to lay down on her side where her back would be facing the space where he would walk through the door. She wasn't even sure if he was going to sleep in their room that night.

Meanwhile, Alden stayed in the office for an hour more and contemplated just sleeping on the couch there or using a spare room, but in the end, he still slept in their room, not feeling the warmth of her body or the weight of her arm around him for the first time in quite a long time.

The routine lasted for two days and three nights. The bed suddenly seemed huge, judging by the space they left between them. On the first early morning after their fight, Alden woke up to see Maggie close to him, her forehead lightly pressed against his arm as she finally slept since Earl's attack. She must've moved in her sleep, her body still searching for him in unconsciousness, and Alden didn't push her away, but didn't wrap his arms around her either, not wanting to jolt her awake after finally allowing herself to rest.

When the sun rose, they talked, sure, but it was straight to business. A casual "Jesus was looking for you" or "a letter came from The King". They discussed plans regarding the community as usual, and it was cold and bland, but on the bright side, it was quick and efficient. Though, it felt like something was missing. Alden wasn't going to lie, he missed the occasional flirting, the snarky remarks, the random jokes, and the casual touches that were certainly not necessary in planning which crops to plant on certain seasons. And when they were alone, it frustrated Maggie to hell and back how the thought of pinning him against a wall and showering his face with kisses crossed her mind way more than once.

Hilltop being the most successful out of the five communities meant that Maggie got called on a lot for discussions, trades, deals, and alliances. Three days after the execution, Maggie was up early, double checking her bag for her trip to the Kingdom that day, making sure she had her notes of what help Hilltop can offer, and also not forgetting to cook and pack some of the sweet corn pudding that Henry likes. Leaving the pudding to cool down in the kitchen, she went back upstairs to their room, Hershel's baby food in hand.

Opening the door, one of the first things she saw was Alden sitting up on the edge of the bed, already awake. And once she got a fuller view of the room, she smiled at the scene of Hershel on Alden's lap, the boy looking confused, his soft cheeks tainted with reddish pillow marks as he just recently woke up, almost at the same time as Alden did.

Maggie closed the door behind her, the soft click made Alden look up to see her reach over to the nightstand, putting the bowl of baby food on it before walking over to the other side of the room to grab the highchair and move it closer to the bed.

"Okay, come on, bud," she heard Alden say as he lifted Hershel up from his lap and placed him on the chair while Maggie grabbed the food on the nightstand and placed it on the little table attached to the chair. Alden stood up and walked away for a moment, grabbing Hershel's bib from the drawer, then going back to his seat on the bed, her eyes averted to him when he leaned over to fix the cloth over the boy's clothes. Alden's hair was mussed from sleep, and she fought back the urge to run her hand through his curls, tousle it even more and see that cheeky grin he usually gives her when she does that.

Looking up at her, Alden noticed where her eyes were before she met his gaze.

"You can touch me, you know," he said, his voice still thick and low from the early morning sleepiness.

She wet her lower lip with a flicker of her tongue, taking note of the way he looked at her like a beautiful painting, gazing up at her with lazy eyes that just opened that day.

"I know."

She turned her head back to Hershel, curling her hand around the small spoon then scooping some baby food to give to her son.

"There's pudding downstairs," she said as he lifted a hand to wipe off the food that Hershel smeared on his cheek. "Though, I think you should probably eat something else first for breakfast," she added with a chuckle, the small talk somehow making her nervous.

"Headed to the Kingdom today?" he asked after a while, the idea already formed in his head when a letter came from Ezekiel the other day. Seeing her nod, he placed a gentle hand on her arm, and she paused.

"Maybe you should get going?" he suggested. "I can take it from here."

She blinked at him, and he quickly added, "I'm not pushing you away, I promise," he reassured.

"It's just so that you can get there earlier. It's safer, and you'll be able to come home sooner, too."

Maggie gave him a thoughtful nod, then placed the spoon down on the bowl, seeing that there's not much food left for Hershel to finish.

"Guess who's gonna have some Daddy time today?" Alden cooed at Hershel, briefly running a hand on the boy's head with a fond smile on his face. "You gotta finish your food then we'll visit your other Dad, okay?"

Maggie let out a wide smile at hearing that. Hershel having his so-called 'Daddy time' meant both Glenn and Alden, and it's the best concept she's heard that day.

"Can we..." she started and he looked back up at her after grabbing the spoon in his hand. "Can we talk once I get back?" she asked, clasping her hands together, fingers tapping lightly on her skin as she waited for his answer.

He smiled at her, a small and understanding one. "I'd like that."

With a controlled exhale, she nodded again, somehow wondering if she'll end up breaking her own neck by doing so much of that. She kept her gaze at him even after he looked back to Hershel. She placed a firm hand on his shoulder, the weight causing him to glance up at her again, and once he did, she leaned forward to kiss his cheek, just like they always do when one of them leaves for travel.

"Bye," she whispered with a smile of her own.

"Be safe," he called out as she then leaned over to Hershel, placing a kiss on the boy's head with a whispered, "I love you," before giving them once last glance and a smile before leaving.

During the early morning the next day, Alden stood on the balcony after showering following a morning jog, the sound of a horse's neigh can be heard as Maggie entered the gates and rode up towards the stables. The sun wasn't up yet, and the skies were still approaching a lighter, cooler shade of blue.

Shaking off one strap of her backpack, Maggie walked towards the house, kicking off pebbles on the ground as she went, stretching her legs after the horse ride home. A meter away from the Barrington house porch stairs, she heard a whistle sounding from above. Looking up, Alden gave her a wave of his hand as he leaned by the railing, an arm being used as a support. She frowned a little at him being up so early, especially after being on Hershel duty all day yesterday, but waved back nonetheless before making her way inside the house and towards the balcony. When she got there, he was already waiting for her as he faced the entryway, his back leaning against the railing.

"What's got you up so early?" she asked as she stepped into the balcony, stopping a few feet away from him.

"Went for a jog," he shrugged. "Gotta stay strong. Hershel's getting heavier," he added with a grin.

"You'll still carry him around once he grows up, huh?" she raised her brows at him, lips lifting in a teasing smirk.

"Definitely," he nodded. "Even when he's thirteen and he's crushing on someone," he beamed, and she gave a short laugh that turned to a fond smile in return.

"What?" he inquired as he watched her expression, curious about her thoughts.

"Somehow, I pictured Hershel and Judith," it was her turn to shrug. "...could be Gracie, too."

He crossed his arms in front him, leaning forward a bit as he fixed his position against the railing, his lips curling into a mischievous smile as he said, "Should I start preparing for the moment when Aaron or Rick would nag at me for our boy making moves on their daughters?"

A laugh rumbled from her chest, the sound as sweet as the dessert she made yesterday, and he walked towards her, hearing the tail end of her laughter louder as he took a seat on the chair to her side.

When the amusement slowed down, a soft sigh escaped her lips, and she shook off the bag from her shoulders.

"By the way, I brought you something," she said, turning to him and opening her bag, tilting it towards his direction for him to see. "Peace offering," she hinted, watching him as he eyed the cobbler that she knew he loved during the fair at the Kingdom months ago.

"I already loved the sweet corn pudding," he gave her an appreciative smile. "But I don't mind more dessert. You made it?" he asked as he reached for her bag.

She shook her head with a snort. "We both know that's not a good idea when it comes to making cobblers."

He giggled at the memory, setting the bag down on the side of the chair as she walked closer, stopping in front of him.

"Come on, it wasn't bad," he comforted as he recalled that time she attempted making the dish. She raised a questioning brow at him.

"Okay, fine, it wasn't that bad," he corrected himself, and she nodded in a 'that's more like it' manner.

"For the record, I did ask Nabila what went wrong, and she gave me a full list of instructions in case I wanted to risk putting you through that taste testing disaster again," she chuckled, and he reached for her hand, beckoning her closer. Taking his hand in hers, she crouched down in front of him, getting comfortable before she spoke again, her tone calm, and at that moment with just the two of them and the rush of early wind past them, she felt vulnerable, but it didn't scare her because it was being vulnerable with him.

"I'm sorry about the things I said to you," she started, and with a sharp intake of breath, she added almost immediately, "but I won't say that I'm sorry about what I did. Because I'm not. And I know it's probably not what you want to hear..."

Alden squeezed her hand and leaned forward to be closer to her, resting his elbows on his knees. "It doesn't matter what I want to hear. I'm glad you're telling me what you think and how you really feel."

"I'm sorry, too. I get that you were protecting us, protecting me." He placed both of his hands on hers that he was holding.

"I just wish that there was a better way to handle it. And I'm not blaming you for what you did, please know that," he said, eyes hooked on hers with understanding.

"There will be consequences for what I did..." she said in a distant whisper. "That what you've been thinking about?" Her voice was a bit louder and clearer at that, and after a considerable pause, he nodded softly.

A deep exhale escaped her lungs at the clarity, nibbing on her bottom lip in thought.

"I did it. I'll face it."

"And you don't have to go through it alone," he added to her statement immediately.

She gave him a weak smile and nodded, raising her free hand to rest it on his cheek. He peppered her hand that he was holding with kisses on her knuckles, whispering the words against her skin.

"I don't want us to go through that again if we can avoid it. The war is over. We can start fresh, stop the violence. Build a place where people, especially the kids, wouldn't have to be scared, not in that way."

Her hand on his cheek moved to the back of his head, fingers weaving through his hair.

"I hear you, and I want that, too. I just..."

He let her pull him closer. "I had to stop it before it got out of hand. Before something else happens and I'm forced to do something worse..." her voice broke at the end, the thought of losing anyone else almost sending her to the arms of the darkness she tried so desperately not to succumb to.

"...something that won't even make you recognize me," she could only whisper the words, the mere abstraction of the thought in mind made her ashamed.

"I'm scared of that...of being the monster I hate," she confessed, the pieces of her that Negan and the war shattered will never be put back together, and she was done trying to pretend that it'll fully heal. The knowledge that the monsters who hurt her family being able to breathe the air Glenn can't sends her to the deepest pits of her very own inferno, and she doesn't know until when she can hold on before she turns into the abomination that her demons are.

The warmth of his breath against her skin tickled her like warm sunshine, the oddness of it compared to the cold and the numbness that settled in her for a long time was vast and striking.

She took a deep breath, letting it out in shaky pulses. "Please don't hate me..."

Alden felt a sudden rush in his chest at her words, the way her eyes were practically begging, something so silent, and yet, it's like the loudest sound he's ever heard. He shook his head at her, quick and sure.

"I don't." He turned her hand in his a bit, placing a firm kiss on the back of her hand, then he looked back into those green eyes, his brown ones apologetic.

"I'm sorry that you thought I did."

He ran his hands up and down her arms, then stopped at her elbows, applying a bit of pressure as he urged her to stand up. "Come here."

He kept his hands her as she stood on shaky legs from being on a crouching position for too long.

"I've been wanting to give you something," he informed, pulling one hand away from her to reach the back pocket of his jeans, curling his hand around the familiar circular material that he's been keeping for longer than intended, then, he tugged her towards him, keeping his other hand closed around the object, and guiding her until she settled comfortably on his lap, one of her arms wrapped over his shoulder, her other hand finding its place by his jaw.

She looked down at his fisted hand that rested by her leg, face scrunching up in curiosity as his other arm wrapped snuggly around her waist.

"I meant to give this to you weeks ago but I couldn't find the right timing," he said with a sheepish chuckle at how nervous he got whenever he thought about giving it to her.

"Then, these past few days didn't exactly go according to plan, so..."

She waited patiently for him, watching the reddish tint on his ears be more visible as the skies got brighter.

He lifted his hand up closer to their faces, but kept it closed, adding a bit of a disclaimer of some sort. "Don't panic."

Maggie tilted her head in much more confusion, his warning definitely giving her the opposite effect, making her slightly nervous.

He opened his hand and quickly fixed his hold on the object, holding it in between his thumb and pointer finger as he raised it up at her.

Her lips parted in a small gasp and his name came out almost as an instinct.

"It's a promise ring," he verified as she stared into the shiny silver. It was a thin band with rounded edges. Simple but elegant, and it was adorned with a pale green stone in the middle—a shade that complemented her eyes, with three smaller white diamonds on each side.

Her entire world seemed to focus on him at that moment as she stared into his eyes after seeing the ring, her own eyes misty and wide. His hand on her waist moved a little, moving to her back to rub calming circles on her clothed skin. She let out a relaxed sigh, then leaned forward to press her forehead against his, relishing the way his breath felt against her skin as he said his words.

"Whenever you feel like you're losing yourself, when you feel like you're on the edge, I promise to be here to pull you right back. I promise to prove it to you and remind you that you're worth it until you believe it yourself. I'm here for you, all the way, for as long as you'll have me. And even if you don't anymore, I'll still have your back..."

Alden tilted his head away from hers a little, both of them looking at the ring again.

"...always," he promised, and her hand left his cheek, pulling it close to where the ring was raised, her fingers parting slightly in the opposite hand where Glenn's ring was.

"Always," she promised back as Alden slid the ring onto her ring finger, both of them smiling fondly at the silver band that tied them to their promises, to each other, to the feelings that will always be there even when they're apart.

She wrapped both of her arms around him and he did the same with her, his forehead resting against her temple. Together, they watched the sun rise, the orange glow bathing them in warm light. The skies got brighter, and soon enough, the community was starting to wake up, trailer doors getting opened and shut, chores being started. Maggie closed her eyes to the sound of the birds chirping, the soft flap of their wings accompanying the hum of the wind. Alden wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her closer to him, her body firmly pressed against his. Her brows furrowed, moving a bit away from him, to which he responded with a faint hum of disapproval, looking up at her with confusion.

"I hope I don't smell like the horse," she joked with a goofy smile.

"Want to take a shower with me?" he offered, adding a wink for good measure.

"As if you haven't done that today already," she said, reaching a hand up to fix his damp hair, combing through his locks and arranging it in a way that wouldn't bother him later.

"I'm willing to go for a second round," he gave a suggestive grin, receiving a playful tug on his hair from her.

"But that'll be a waste of water," he later acknowledged, voice lowering a bit in disappointment.

"Can't blame me for trying, though."

She smiled at that, adoring the small pout that graced his face. Leaning in, she felt the way he sucked in the air when her lips met his skin, landing on the corner of his mouth, not quite his lips yet, not yet, but daringly close.

"Hmm, better luck next time," she whispered, the anticipation glimmering in his eyes. He let his chin rest on her shoulder when she pulled him in for a hug, treasuring the little time they have left as the sounds from downstairs got louder and the community got busier, soon, Hershel would wake up, then they'll have to start working on their own chores around the place, too.

She snuggled closer to him, her nails slightly digging onto his shirt and his back, feeling the waves of relief crash in her chest after they talked their problems out. She wanted to take it slow with him, to do it right, to be someone he deserves. After the things she's seen, the things she's lost, it hit Maggie hard that maybe it's foolish to hope for something so much more from this world than survival. But having him made her have a little more hope, to strive way more, to fight harder for the future they wanted.

"We're good, right?" she asked for a confirmation she knows will help comfort her, her voice soft and low near his ear.

"We're good," he nodded, feeling the movement against her shoulder.

She wasn't going to lie, in the earlier stages, she thought he was making the biggest mistake of his life when he committed to being involved with her—her child, her past, politics, and everything in between. But he stayed with her through it all. They both learned that life is constructed by choices, and he chose her over and over again.

•

Months passed and the vibrant leaves turned to shiny, damp ones with the chill autumn mist. Jesus stood by his bed, bending over as he organized his clothes and some other necessities laid in front of him. As he fumbled through his things to clear out a space where he could properly fold his clothes, two knocks sounded from the other side of his bedroom door.

"Yeah?" he called out, projecting his voice to be heard on the other side.

The door creaked and opened, the small opening giving way to Maggie as she poked her head in, face scrunching up at the mess he made. "Need a little help?"

"By 'help' you mean you'll sit here and talk about random things until we both get distracted and end up not doing any work?" he joked, but ushered her inside.

"Hey, that was one time!" she protested with a chuckle, finishing up on drying her hand with a towel after washing the dishes downstairs. "Hershel wouldn't stop kicking me, and you enjoyed feeling it in my stomach," she recalled the days of her pregnancy as she placed the towel on his nightstand then cleared a spot on the bed for her to sit on.

"Did a hurricane happen here or what?" she shook her head at him while she started grabbing his sweaters and putting them on one pile.

"It's starting to get colder, so, I thought I'd rearrange the closet and dig in to everything I have while I pack—hey, that one," he explained, then reached a hand out towards the sweater she was currently holding. Passing the clothing to him, she replied, "You'll only be at Alexandria for three days, right?"

"That's the plan," he hummed as he chucked a shirt into his bag. "But still, it's getting chilly pretty fast."

"Yeah," she nodded, then, with a sly smile, she added, "Say 'hi' to Aaron for me."

"Jesus!" she laughed after feeling the smack of the shirt he threw on her face.

"What? You know Aaron is my friend," she said innocently, seeing him give her a side-eye.

"Seriously, though. I haven't seen him and Gracie in a while," she sighed, her laugh fading, thinking about all the people and the chances she missed at the expense of not wanting to be in the same place as her husband's murderer.

"There's no need to rush, Maggie," he comforted while they continued to fold the clothes, putting some back in the closet and putting some in his bag. After a while, they did end up finishing on the task, Jesus' bag already filled and completed. Moving the bag to the other side of the mattress, he took a seat beside Maggie on the edge of the bed, his expression calm and sincere.

"Can I ask you something?"

She casually nodded, but before he asked, he said with a small laugh, "But don't kill me for this," causing her to roll her eyes at him before leaning back against the headboard, her body facing him now.

"Do you love him?"

Maggie froze, and it's not because of the cold that surrounded the house.

"I think you need to be a bit more specific," she managed to get out even though she had a pretty good idea.

"I think you already know exactly who I'm talking about."

She bit her lip at the studying gaze he was giving her, her mind suddenly reeling in the possibilities. She looked down at her lap, her fingers lightly drumming on the palm of her other hand, and Jesus waited patiently, silently. The moment she thought about Alden, she felt the sudden urge to smile. The things she started getting used to—the butterflies in her stomach, the quickening pace of her heart, the breath seeping out of her lungs when she's with him—they suddenly seemed more important than she ever thought they would be. But it wasn't just the good parts that were important. She cherished the heart fluttering moments, the whispered words against the sheets in the middle of the night, the flirting that doesn't seem to get old no matter their age. But she also thought about the hard parts, the sad ones, the wrenching ones. The fights, the messes. And even through it all, nothing ever made her think that what they share is a mistake. None of it made her even think of wanting to quit on him, on them.

The implications of that struck her like lightning, shaking her to the core, the new perspective making her lips part in a small gasp, barely audible.

Blinking her eyes and raising her head to look at her friend, the only answer she could come up with was, "Please don't make me answer that."

His eyes softened, and when he asked, "Why not?", he made sure to let her know that she wasn't required to answer.

"I'm not rushing you or judging you. But please know, Maggie, it's alright to move on," he said sincerely, a hand reaching out to rest on top of hers.

"...and it's alright to back out when it doesn't feel right, even if it's from a good person," Jesus added. He knew Alden was a great man, but he didn't leave out the possibility that he might not be the best man for her, even though Jesus hasn't seen her happier than when she's with Alden and Hershel.

"I don't know," she rasped, mainly because the realizations were starting to become overwhelming.

"I like him, I know that. Hell, I feel a lot for him," she confessed, her words strong and sure.

"But?" he gently urged. There will always be something that he doesn't know, some things he doesn't see or hear about, and he didn't want to accidentally push his best friend towards a man that might hurt her. He trusted Alden, but a part of him just had to make sure things don't go awry when he's not around.

"But it feels like I shouldn't," she continued.

"Does it feel wrong?"

"It doesn't, that's the point," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's just—" she started, waving a hand around in frustration.

"I feel like I should be more guilty about moving forward with someone new. It's so easy to be in this with him, because he doesn't force me to do anything. He doesn't want to me to forget about Glenn. He's not asking me to do that and move on. I can be who I am with everything I've been through and still be with Alden..."

They both knew she was leaning towards a specific answer to his question.

"...and it feels so easy to get lost in him. And, yeah, underneath it all, I know I like him more than I'm letting on. What if I move too quick and it all topples over? I'm scared of ruining it, and somehow, it's like I know I would."

She stared into her friend's eyes, and he gave her a small smile at her confession, almost pitiful, but he knew that behind those eyes, she was thanking him for the question even if it frustrated her to no end, because she wouldn't have pondered over it if it was just her. She thought about it, when she's with Alden, when he's asleep and he's holding her close, and she feels safe, peaceful even. But she diminishes the thought, afraid of what she might find, because when she looks into his eyes, something nags at her that she's hiding an answer she feels too scared to voice out.

Jesus leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, firm and steady, keeping her on her feet when everything else feels like harsh waves rocking her boat.

"Don't think about how others would react, don't think about what he'd like to hear, and don't think about what you guess is what Glenn is going to think. Just focus on what you feel..." he instilled, but didn't ask his question again.

"I'm not forcing you to realize how you feel, I just don't want it to be too late once you do."

She sighed in defeat and slowly nodded at that, raising her own hand up to rest it on his on her shoulder, giving it a gratified squeeze as she whispered, "Thank you."

Then, she placed her feet firmly on the ground, starting to stand up to check on Enid to make sure she didn't forget to pack a coat for their trip. It wasn't really for business or anything, she just wanted to visit Carl's grave, and Maggie never stopped her from doing it, silently wishing she's brave enough to go to Alexandria, but for the timebeing, it was enough that Jesus enjoys the trips as well, exchanging updates about Hershel, Judith and Gracie.

"Think about it," was what Jesus said just before she left his room.

During the evening on the next day, Maggie ruffled through the closet and changed into a button-down shirt that was larger than her frame, but it was comfortable and warm just like the way she liked it. Putting on a coat, she walked over to where Hershel was joyfully playing in his crib.

"I'm gonna go out for a bit, okay? I'm just gonna give those to your dad and uncle," she said, looking over to the fresh flowers she picked up in the garden earlier. She kissed her son's head before leaving, grabbing the flowers on the nightstand as she went. Maggie kept her trip to the graveyard brief as it was her second visit that day, and also not wanting to leave Hershel alone for too long. She took him with her during her visit earlier that morning, but didn't want to risk him getting sick from the cold of the night.

Maggie crouched down on the soil, putting fresh flowers on Glenn and Abraham's graves, and taking away the wilting ones.

"Enid went to visit Alexandria today," she said, talking to the people, especially to her husband, that she missed dearly.

"She's growing up great. You would've been so proud of her."

Maggie felt a saddening tug at her heart at that, thinking about how Enid and Hershel will grow up clinging to what little memory of Glenn they had left. She took a deep breath, her face frowning as she slowly exhaled, Jesus' question yesterday coming to mind.

"I hope you're not mad at me," she whispered, looking down at the ground where the love of her life was supposed to be. "...for how I've been with Alden."

The wind blew strong, and she tried to convince herself that it was just the dust that it brought to her eyes that made her eyes start to well up.

"I don't know if this is okay," she shook her head, letting out a sniffle, and she knew it wasn't because of the wind. "I don't know what you'd want..."

"And I don't want to be selfish, but I know that I do want what I have right now. I never thought I'd feel this way again, because maybe I shouldn't. But I do feel something."

She closed her eyes and stretched out a hand, placing it firmly on the tower of rocks that marked his grave.

"I just wish I could hear you tell me that it's okay. Please tell me that it's okay," she whispered once more, and when the wind blew past her again, it felt like his arms wrapped around her, and her lips stretched in a tight smile.

Taking a steadying breath, Maggie opened her eyes and brought her other hand up to her lips, the palm facing her, and she placed a kiss there, almost to the tip of her fingers, before putting her hand down and pressing it on the soil.

"I love you," she breathed, heaving a sigh from her chest before standing up to go back inside, stopping by the bathroom to wash her hands before going back to her son.

When she got there, Hershel already looked bored with his toys, his eyes looking around the room and staring at random things until his gaze landed on her, and he paused, a wide smile spreading on his face.

"Hey..." she walked towards him in awe, his little arms raising up when she stood by the crib.

"Ma!" he let out with an excited squeal, and she reached down to pick him up. He rested his cheek against her shoulder, his tiny hand latching onto the fabric of the coat she didn't get to take off yet.

"Oh, you already make me feel better," she said as she ran a hand up and down her son's back. Tilting her head to the side, she placed a kiss on his head, letting it linger there with a whispered, "I love you so much."

"Do you know where Dad is, hmm?" she whispered, walking over to the window. Pulling the curtains back, she turned to her side where Hershel lay his head on her shoulder, showing him the view of the community from their room.

"Over there," she said, turning a bit and pointing a finger at the direction where the graveyard was supposed to be. She could feel Hershel's head turning a bit, his cheek grazing her coat, the warmth of the material and the comfort her arms held slowly lulling him to sleep. Maggie's feet took small steps, gently bouncing Hershel in her arms, catching sight of Alden through the windowpane as he walked across the Hilltop soil, a tool in hand that he realized during dinner that he didn't remember putting it back in the shed.

"And there's your other Dad," she murmured.

She continued to have a slow pace around the room, humming songs and telling stories in a low voice, Hershel's weight on her body anchored her to reality, providing comfort, a warm hug that became a companion to her thoughts.

After a while, Maggie decided to put Hershel back in his crib, keeping him warm under his blanket as he settled in for the night.

The minutes passed by as she looked over at her son, sleeping peacefully, unable to move at the weight of the exhaustion that day, even at the sound of the soft creak behind her as the door opened and closed. There was the soft thudding of footsteps until she felt the dance of fingers on her shoulder, Alden's knuckles briefly grazing over her neck as his hand dug under the collar of her coat, holding it and tugging it off of her.

"You didn't wear a jacket. It's cold outside," she lightly scolded as she felt her coat leave her body, passing by her arms.

"I wasn't there for long."

"And if you get sick?" she asked, turning her head, seeing him walk away from her to put her coat back in the closet.

"Won't you take care of me?" he snickered as he walked back towards her.

"Absolutely not," she huffed at her own lie, but didn't shy away from his touch when he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close until their stomachs were pressed against each other.

His thumb moved up and down on her back, the fabric of her clothing scrunching up a bit. "What's got you so worried?"

She shook her head and replied quietly. "Nothing."

"You're on edge," he observed and moved a hand from her back to give her waist a gentle squeeze.

"Maybe because Hershel just slept, and we're already risking waking him up by talking here," she jokingly suggested, briefly tipping her head towards him. He took a step from her, then tugged her away from the crib, moving them closer to where their bed stood, his eyes looking behind him to make sure he wouldn't trip, and when he looked back at her, the space between them allowing him to see her better, his lips twisted into a teasing smirk.

"Is that my shirt?"

Maggie briefly looked down at what she was wearing despite fully knowing that it is, in fact, his.

"Looks good on you," he complimented truthfully as she closed the space between them again, stepping closer and putting her arms around his neck.

After a minute passed between them in silence, she said, "I was just thinking about something."

She was thinking about Jesus' question again, and the more time she spends looking at Alden and the more she feels his touch on her body, the more the question demands to be answered.

He leaned down to rest his forehead on her shoulder, his hair tickling her cheek. "Want me to get your mind off of things?" he asked, then raised his head up a bit, his lips meeting the skin just below her jaw in a soft kiss, emitting a small gasp from her, her heart beating faster, and that question nagged at her again.

"How?" she hummed, and she felt his head leave her shoulder. One of his hands left her waist and reached over to her arm around his neck, pulling it down, and holding her hand in his. He raised his head, his cheek resting against hers as he sang their song in a whisper close to her ear, tilting his head to lightly kiss her cheek everytime the song reaches its interlude.

"Do you want to hear a different song?" he asked when he reached a pause after a verse.

"No," she whispered, and he felt the movement against his cheek as she shook her head. "I love this one."

It's after the second verse when Maggie tilted her head back to see his face, her eye catching sight of the only lit candle by the bed, a lot of the wax was already melted, the wick becoming small and the other end of it closing in on the bottom of the glass. The dim flame lighting up their faces, making him appear more like an angel that she considered him to be. She let her hand trail down past his chest—feeling the way he took a deep inhale at that—down to his waist, her fingers pinching him on his side, knowing it would tickle him.

"Maggie—" he said her name out in a low complain, a chuckle stopping him from saying anything else.

"Sorry, you were saying?" she teased, then tickled him again when he opened his mouth to speak, his head leaning towards her as he bent over with a laugh, her own cackle reaching his ears.

"That's a weak attack," he jabbed, keeping his hands on her.

She just hummed at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes, tugging him along as she stepped backwards.

"Won't be for long," she gave a slight warning, teasing. Liking this side of her, Alden leaned forward to kiss the tip of her nose, and Maggie used the vulnerability of the action to maneuver him to where she formerly stood, switching their positions before his lips touched her skin, and he felt the edge of the bed on the back of his leg. His eyes flickered open at the sudden movement, and she pushed him down on the mattress, emitting a small grunt that blended with soft laughter from him. He moved more into the bed, only his feet now hanging from the edge.

She climbed into the bed, crawling on the mattress and laying on top of him, their bodies pressed together as her legs settled in between his. Resting an arm by his head to keep her upright, her other hand cradled his face. He wrapped both of his arms on her lower back, keeping her close to him, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched her lower her face into his until her hair tickled his cheek. He closed his eyes, feeling the ghost of her breath on his lips.

But her lips never touched his.

Instead, behind closed eyes, more light from the candle flame came through his eyelids as her head moved to the side, her lips landing on his cheekbone, quite far from his lips.

Opening his eyes, he saw her teasing smile as his brows furrowed in disappointment. With a huff, he kept a firm hold on her as his legs moved as he kicked off his shoes. Turning her head, he felt the rumble of laughter in her chest against his as she watched his shoes fly somewhere into the room. Using her amusement as a distraction, Alden quickly wrapped a leg around her and switched their positions, pressing her body against the mattress.

"Oh, is it your turn?" she quipped, staring up at him, the view making her heart race, even more so when Alden ducked his head, feeling his nose against her jaw as he nudged her head to the side, placing feathery light kisses on her skin, starting from the spot by the back of her ear. Her hand curled into his arm, her nails digging into the sleeve of his shirt, feeling it in his skin as she pulled him closer to her with her other hand. He kept his kisses light, ghosting over her skin like it was barely even there, and to her, it was too much, but at the same time, it felt like it wasn't enough.

He took a pause just when he reached her neck, slightly wondering if it was too fast for their pace—if it was too much than she meant to give.

"Go on," she encouraged, as if reading his mind, her voice barely a whisper, her mind dizzy at his actions.

He didn't continue.

He raised his head up to look at her face. Seeing her confused expression, he stifled a laugh, his lips stretching into a grin, teasing her as much as she teased him. Realizing what he was doing, Maggie rolled her eyes, then gave his arm a big squeeze.

"What? You started it," he said in his defense. "See? It's not so good being on the other side of the teasing," he chuckled before leaning in to place a firm kiss on her forehead. When he pulled away, they kept their faces close, a smile steadily plastered on his face as he gazed down at her, the soft glow of the candlelight making her look even more ethereal than she already is.

"I hope you know how much I love having you here," she whispered in all honesty.

"It's unexpected, isn't?" he said, his hand reaching up to stroke her hair, going down to her shoulder in a slow motion.

She hummed a reply. "We were strangers."

"And then we were enemies," he supplied with a grin, and she joined him with a wide smile, transforming into a fond one as her fingers grazed the curve of his ear until her hand settled by his neck, and she confessed, "But now you mean everything to me."

His hand took a pause on her side at the truth she spoke, his eyes fixated into hers, and he felt so alive in a world ran by the dead.

The roar of her heart echoed from her chest like music or the flutter of butterflies as they fly across the garden in a bright spring day. She looked into his eyes, and everything so delightful and beautiful hit her all at once, and it hit her harder than before, the load of her emotions crashing against the barrier of the truth she tried to hide from Jesus' question.

She looked into those eyes, and she already knew her answer. She was sure of it.

Her lips parted as the air felt like it was thinning out of her lungs, her tongue lightly grazing her bottom lip. Deciding once and for all, Maggie placed a grip on his arm, and pushing herself off the mattress, she raised her body up closer to his, pulling him down to her until her lips crashed into his.

With her lips moving against his own, his eyes closed slowly, the shock getting to him first and rendering him frozen. He placed a hand on her waist, but the kiss was over before he could properly respond. Her body slowly leaned back into the mattress, and he unconsciously followed, keeping his face close to hers, their noses brushing.

"Too much?" she asked, slightly panting, her eyes staring up at him shyly.

He shook his head lightly as he blinked down at her, his eyes full of wonder, especially when he saw the shy smile that started forming on her lips.

"No," he answered out loud this time with an amused chuckle before leaning down to peck her lips, soft and light, testing. Feeling her respond to him, he shifted his weight a bit, pushing her slightly deeper into the mattress as his lips collided with hers once again, fully kissing her with much devotion and attention, surrendering himself fully to her, letting her know exactly how much control she had over him, not realizing yet how he was her weakness as much as he was her strength.

When his lips left hers, she didn't fret, immediately feeling his kisses trail down to her jaw, down to her neck, continuing what he started before. His kisses became fuller, and he took longer, cherishing every inch of her skin, the feel of her hand buried in his hair encouraging him.

Her hand reached up to her shirt, fingers working to unbutton them, his own hand helping her as he raised his head to claim her lips once again. The autumn air that sneaked into the room didn't matter even when all the buttons of her shirt laid there unbuttoned, though, they didn't fully get rid of the clothing, not wanting her to get too cold, or worse, sick. He wanted her, but he wanted her safe.

Her eyes fluttered close as his lips traced her collarbone and down to the curve of her shoulder, tugging her shirt down by the sleeve a bit. His hand ran up her arm, pausing at the feel of a rough patch, darting his eyes toward it. She didn't have to open her eyes to know what it was.

"It was from Kingdom's wagon accident," she said as she felt the tip of his finger trace over the scar.

"Turns out, the blood that covered my sleeve then was mine after all."

He remembered worrying about that blood.

He leaned back a little, and she opened her eyes at the shifting of the mattress. Alden's hands left her, his fingers curling over the hem of his tee shirt, tugging it up and pulling it over his head. In the soft glowing light, Maggie witnessed his own scars, some fading, some not quite. She raised her hand up to his bare chest, her fingertips gently running along the outline of a bruise by his rib, frowning at how fresh it was.

They carried their emotional baggage like it was their lifeline. They were battered and bruised, damaged in ways that may not ever heal, but they look into each other's eyes, and they see a king and a queen—someone special, someone important and worth going through hell and back for.

He slowly leaned closer to her again, and she put a hand on his back, letting it rest there as her other hand reached up to his neck, moving it up to his hair as his lips reached her shoulder, placing a brief kiss there before moving towards her scar, tracing its outline with affection, gentle and soft.

There was something electrifying about it, something incredibly sweet about the way he kissed her scars, her flaws, like they were stars.

And when he was done, Maggie wrapped her arm tightly around him, her other hand splayed on the back of his head, pulling him down to her until his head rested on her chest, a hum sounding from him, enjoying her touch—the feeling of being held like that.

His lips parted in a sigh, an invisible chill spiraling around him as he let himself get lost in the moment, get lost in the beautiful reverie that is her.

Then, her hand briefly left him to grab the blanket that got crumpled on their side, covering them with it and embracing him once again with her warm hold.

The flame burned as much as their hearts did, the candle melting into abstract pieces of wax on the bottom of the glass. The wick turned to a dark ash, shrouding them in darkness. In that autumn night, when everything else was dull and cold, they gave each other peace in a world that otherwise had none, the intimacy settling in the cloak of darkness as they led each other to the point of no return.

•

A couple of weeks after Jesus and Enid came back from Alexandria, it was Rick and Michonne's turn to visit them, mostly for business about the bridge construction, but Maggie was up for a little surprise.

When she was told that the Grimes family arrived at Hilltop, Maggie made a move to go out there and greet them, but Alden kept her in their room, saying that Rick and Michonne told him that she doesn't have to bother.

"Are you kidding me? It's not bothersome to greet my brother," she said, a little weirded out by Alden as she tried to walk past him, but ended up feeling his arms wrap around her waist. He knew exactly how much that distracts her.

"You're a terrible liar," she said to him, but didn't immediately move away.

"Hmm, I don't think so, but for this one, maybe I am," he replied, getting a little excited himself, knowing that she'd love it once the Grimes family walks through that door.

They didn't have to wait long. A brief knock sounded from the door, Rick made sure to do that this time considering what he walked in on the last time. When the door opened, Alden loosened his hold on her.

"Hey," she greeted Rick with a smile, going over to him to give him a hug. "It's been quite a while."

"Yeah." He pulled away, but kept her close. "But there's someone else that's been missing you," he said, turning his head towards the open door where Michonne walked through, and Maggie's smile went wide in surprise and awe as she saw Judith in her mother's arms.

"Hi there, baby girl." Maggie sauntered over to Judith and gave her and Michonne a hug, her hand staying by the little girl.

"We don't bring her to travels a lot, but she wouldn't stop talking about Aunt Maggie at Hilltop," Rick said, nodding towards them as Michonne passed Judith into Maggie's arms.

"And Jesus said you missed the girls, too. She drew lots of pictures of us with you, almost cried about not seeing you."

Maggie's lips curled in a sad smile at that, and brushed a hand through Judith's blonde ringlets.

"Don't be upset," she comforted. "Sorry I haven't seen you in so long. I missed you too," Hilltop's leader cooed happily as her niece placed her little hand on her aunt's cheek.

After a while, Maggie placed Judith on the the bed, letting her play with Hershel who sat in front of Alden, the man keeping an eye on them both as Rick and Maggie stood by the door while Michonne was briefed by Jesus about the laws instated at Hilltop, exchanging ideas they could potentially use in other communities.

"What happened while I was gone?" Rick asked, sparing a glance at Alden before looking back to Maggie. Her eyes lit up as memories came to her mind, but she just answered in a shrug, embarrassed at the feeling of the blush creeping up on her cheeks.

They both looked over at the kids, hearing Alden's voice as he talked to Judith, her eyes looking up at him in amazement as he said, "Girls are strong, too. Boys can lead, like your dad, but so can girls, like your aunt Maggie. You know, it was from her that I learned to step up and speak up. She thought me a lot of things, and I'm proud of that."

Maggie had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling so much like an idiot, and Rick shook his head at her as he watched her intently, smiling as well. It's been too long since he saw her smitten about someone, and he knew they were way closer than they were the last time he saw them together.

"Well, if he's got you smiling like that, then, I guess I have no problem with it," Rick spoke, giving her arm a teasing tap before walking away to look for his wife.

Walking over to the bed, Maggie was just in time as she heard Alden's lovely lecture say, "There's still a lot of things for you to try, even if you mostly see boys do it, so what if you're one of the first girls to try it? How about this, I take you around and show you how we make those cool weapons, and you teach me how to paint? How does that sound?" he offered, stretching his hand out, his palm facing her.

Judith gave him a wide grin and enthusiastically smacked her palm against his in a high-five.

"Teaching about feminism and being one of the kindest and sweetest people to ever exist. Aren't you the perfect guy?" Maggie complimented him as Judith latched onto her arm again, climbing onto her lap.

"I like to think I'm just trying to be the man that you deserve," he smiled, charming and sweet.

The hours passed and they went on with their day. Maggie walked through the halls of the Barrington house on her way to the office to discuss business with Rick and Michonne, her mind going through their agendas, some new offers, and some old proposals she thought about rejecting.

Her thoughts were put to an abrupt stop when a hand suddenly curled around her arm and tugged her away from her path, her throat letting out a grunt of protest as her back met the wall. Her brows furrowed and relaxed, but before being able to say anything, Alden's lips were on hers, his body pinning her against the wall.

"You scared me," she said breathlessly between kisses, and he whispered an apology shortly before she claimed his lips.

Aware of her schedule, he reluctantly pulled away, resting his forehead against hers as they worked on catching their breaths.

"For good luck?" she inquired, and she felt him move his head in a nod.

When she was thinking straight again, she stole another kiss from him before actually walking away to attend that meeting, and for him to fulfill his promise to Judith.