"There is no right; there's just the wrong that doesn't pull you down."

~Morgan Jones

"I hope I'm not bothering you with this," Rick said as he led Morgan into Alexandria, his breath visible in the cold air.

"No, no, Rick. It's fine. I have a lot of spare time on my hands  now...after the war..." Morgan trailed off, his mind focusing in on the not-so-distant memory.

"You mean to tell me Ezekiel isn't having you walk Shiva?" Rick attempted to lighten the mood, cracking a smile at his friend. Morgan broke out of his trance, smiling back.

"Oh, he does keep me busy with her alright. Picking up her shit," Morgan chuckled. Rick joined in his laughter, already imagining Morgan doing this.

"I really wished you would have stayed here, Morgan. We need someone like you."

"Not after everything that's happened... I'm just not-"

"You're just not happy here? But you are over there. I understand," Rick interjected glumly.

"It's not that, Rick. It's that the life I made here is over," Morgan finished, leaving his answer vague purposefully. He didn't want to explain the full reason for him not wanting to return; the reason that threatened to overwhelm him as he came upon where Rick had been leading him to.

The cemetery.

The place marked as Rick and Morgan's greatest mistakes.

"Why did you bring me here, Rick?" Morgan's voice shook with grief and rage.

"I-I wanted to know if you would help me," He took a sigh in-between words. "Help make a memorial or statue or some sort of reminder for here. They all deserve better than a pile of dirt and a plank of wood."

Morgan remained silent, mulling this over in his mind. He considered Rick to be his closest friend, and he knew how much this would mean to him. He looked at the looming cemetery to the side of him, imagining how instead of wooden boards marking the land it could be something more meaningful.

Rick lingered by Morgan's side in front of the church, trying to keep his composure. He didn't want to enter the graveyard because each time he did, there were more arrivals.

The sense of someone nearby alerted Rick, a feeling he had developed from his time as a sheriff's deputy and one that had grown in the past three years.

Across the churchyard was Glenn, who looked at him with a startled expression. Rick was about to gesture towards him, but Glenn had quickly taken off, leaving both Rick and Morgan confused.

Rick cleared his throat, ignoring what just took place and waiting for Morgan to respond.

"I'll see what I can do. I'm not that much of an expert at welding or designing," Morgan finally answered.

"I'll do whatever I can to help. I would like for this to be a surprise for the rest of the community. But that's probably unlikely," Rick moved towards the cemetery with Morgan hesitantly following behind.

"What does The Kingdom have?" Rick stood in front of the grave marked 'Maggie Rhee.'

"Just some simple white crosses," Morgan went towards the grave dedicated to 'Carol Peletier.' "There didn't use to be as many crosses as there are now."

The pair remained still, letting the winter air blow by them until Morgan broke the silence.

"After the war, I had planned to teach a boy Aikido... or finish teaching him. That was how I planned to spend my time; why I wanted to stay at The Kingdom."

"He died in battle?" Rick came closer to his friend; Morgan confirming this with a nod.

"He insisted on fighting even though I tried to prevent him. I told him that he had a younger brother to look after... I didn't find out until afterwards that he was dead," Tears were streaming down Morgan's face. "I was the one who had to take the body and tell his brother what had happened. Ben wasn't ready to fight. He shouldn't have been there because it wasn't his fight. It was ours."

Rick lowered his head solemnly, knowing that once again he was responsible for this. He had been the one to get The Kingdom involved. He had been the one to say they needed anyone who could help fight, including his own son.

"I'll think of something. It's all I can do anymore. Think," Morgan said, walking away.

"Think of all the ways I failed," Rick whispered, alone in the graveyard.

~

"This is going to sting a little," Irene swabbed Rosita's cheek, making her flinch. "Sorry, I know it's uncomfortable."

"It's fine," Rosita replied bluntly.

"Your scar is healing quite well," Irene commented, placing the compact mirror in front of Rosita. "Just be sure to be careful with your stitches. We wouldn't want all that progress to be lost."

Rosita examined the stitches, wanting to touch it, but knowing that wouldn't be good. "Thanks."

"Of course," Irene smiled, starting to put away her equipment. The sound of a door swinging open was heard as Dwight walked into the room.

"Dwight, how is your arm? Is it healing?" Irene had stopped what she was doing and walked over to him. Rosita glared at the man darkly, who took immediate notice of this. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze as he talked to Irene.

Rosita pulled her cap down lower as she rose from her stool. She roughly pushed past Dwight, interrupting Irene's questions.

"What's your problem, Rosita?" Dwight knew he shouldn't confront her; he should just stay quiet. But he was too hot-headed and impulsive for that.

Rosita instantly snapped her head around, taking his response as a challenge. "You're my problem, Dwight. Your whole presence is."

"Please, let's calm down," Irene interjected, hoping to diffuse the situation. "This isn't the place for this."

The patients nearby had heard the commotion and were staring at the argument in front of them. They were slowly rising out of their beds, going towards where Rosita and Dwight were.

Rosita's eyes narrowed at the man; her rage towards him threatening to spill over. She thought she would be able to accept him; forgive him even. But after everything he had done, after everything he had put them through, he didn't deserve to live here. Each time she saw him, she could only feel hate. These feelings don't just disappear easily and they only grew as the days wore on. He would never be part of their group and it killed her every time to act like he was.

Dwight finally let up, turning away from her. He didn't want to be the same, violent person he once was. He wanted to change. He had to. For Sherry.

Rosita huffed, exiting the infirmary. Irene stood frozen for a few seconds before tending to Dwight again.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what just happened," Irene said, cutting the bandage around Dwight's arm.

"She hates me. And I can't say I blame her," Dwight sighed.

"That nearly turned violent," an Oceanside native named Lisa whispered to the friend beside her.

"What else would you expect from her?" Her friend, Rose, replied.

"They're barbaric. These Alexandrians are full of violence," another native named Jessica joined in.

"Speaking of which, the one named Glenn was with her that day," Rose continued, walking back with her friends towards the beds.

"You mean the one who has been-" Lisa gestured to Irene with her head. The women continued their whispering, looking at Irene as they spoke.

However, Irene and Dwight both heard the not-so-discreet conversation.

"Well, that should be all," Irene said quickly, wanting to go confront her friends.

"Oh, thank you," Dwight had been so intent on hearing the women he didn't notice Irene had finished changing his bandage and wrapped it back in the sling. He walked out of the building, wanting to remain for the conversation.

"What is with you all whispering?" Irene demanded. "It is rude, especially when you're talking about me!"

"Oh, Irene. We didn't mean to offend you. But with all that's been happening lately..." Jessica exchanged looks with her fellow women.

"What exactly has been happening?" Irene was growing irritated. As if on cue, Netanya opened the door to the infirmary. She placed the two bats on the ground, hiding them from view.

"Irene, just who I've been wanting to talk to," The woman smiled warmly at her friend.

"Netanya," Irene approached her, full of questions. "Do you know what has been happening? Jessica mentioned-"

"Yes, I do. Very well in fact," Netanya interrupted her. "I thought we would be able to integrate here, but I was foolishly wrong to believe that. I suspected from the beginning Alexandria was behind everything...I should have trusted my initial instinct." She paused, dropping her voice down several octaves. "You do remember what we set out to do, Irene?"

Irene swallowed. "Y-yes, but now everything is good. We're becoming a group."

Netanya laughed at this. "So naïve. But that might just stem from your "caring" nature as a med student. We should have burned Alexandria to the ground as soon as we got back from the base!" Her tone changed drastically.

"N-Netanya, w-why would you say that?" Irene was growing fearful. "Negan is dead; we only hated him and his Saviors. Alexandria helped us get rid of him, now we can live in peace."

"We can never live in peace as long as they- Glenn is here. After I saw him with a metal bat, I knew it couldn't be a coincidence!"

"It has to be a coincidence!"

"Irene, open your damn eyes! As soon as Glenn and Rosita left, our houses burn a few hours later! And Beatrice is killed?! Killed in a way that Negan was known to kill?! With a weapon that Glenn also has?!" Netanya hastily grabbed the bats and threw them at Irene's feet. They hit the floor with a loud clang that rang throughout the room. Irene could only stare in horror, slowly backing away from the two bats.

"No. No. No. He-" Irene started to cry, unable to accept the fact someone she was beginning to like had destroyed her home, life, and friends.

"You're in denial. Your feelings are clouding your judgment," Lisa hissed in Irene's ear, causing the latter's face to redden.

"I know... We know you liked him, Irene. But he cannot live on in bliss while our sisters are dead because of him. We cannot live in bliss. Not until our sisters and dignity are avenged," Netanya scowled.

"I-I don't like him!" Irene spat. "I see him as a friend. Nothing else." Rose and Jessica snickered at this obvious lie.

Netanya smiled wanly at her exclamation. "That makes things easier for you then. Because friendships can be broken. But the bonds of sisterhood cannot and are not."

Irene's face was hot with anger and embarrassment. Shameful tears spilled out of her eyes as she yelled, "Why does it matter if I like him or not?! Don't I deserve to find love in a world where there is none?! We are human, aren't we?! You may have given us safety, Netanya. But you denied us a life of families and children in exchange!"

Netanya and the other women stared at the display in front of them, stunned at Irene's words. But she wasn't going to stop there. She was going to deliver the final blow to her former leader; all the pent up frustration about to be released.

"And that makes you just the same as Negan!"

An instant hit to Irene's face knocked her down. Netanya trembled with rage, holding the nail bat's front end in front of her.

Irene clutched her face where the wooden handle had hit, crying out in pain. The other women made no attempt to help her, only concerning themselves with Netanya.

"She's a med student. She can take care of herself," Jessica said, looking down at the bleeding woman at the ground pitifully.

Irene struggled to her feet, doing her best to treat herself. The women had left, taking the bats with them. She was alone.

There would be no help for her; there was no knight in shining armor coming.

~

The sense that something was brewing grew stronger for Rick as each day passed.

It had started out subtle; a few scowls and glances at Glenn from the Oceanside women. The change in atmosphere could have easily been explained as getting adjusted to the calm before the storm. They had just fought a war; everyone would be on edge for a while.

Things were expected to be tense.

But then a mysterious wound appeared on Irene's face. She claimed to have fallen and bruised herself. Rick asked if someone was beating her; he had heard that excuse too many times before to know she was lying. Of course, she denied this.

 Soon after, harsh, low mutterings from the Oceanside women began and always were unheard of from Rick.

Until one day he finally overheard what they had been saying.

He was the one responsible for the displacement of the Oceanside women and the murder of the bludgeoned woman.

And just like the fire Glenn allegedly started, this rumor spread around Alexandria instantly.

~

Glenn didn't need to hear what the women were whispering to know what was being said.

It was becoming unbearable to go outside because each time he did the women were always around.

But coming back to his house was harrowing. He was sure Negan was lurking somewhere in the dark, waiting for him.

Granted, he hadn't heard him since that one time. Yet he was sure he would hear (and see) more of him very soon.

Yes, a big change was coming to Alexandria and the surrounding communities.

~

"I've heard your accusations against Glenn and you need to stop. NOW," Rick demanded as he pushed Netanya aside in the doorway.

"They're not accusations at all. They're facts," Netanya said matter-of-factly.

"Glenn would never do that!" Rick's hand reflexively ghosted across the salvaged Colt Python at his side. "He's the most compassionate and kindhearted person here! Not like you would understand those words."

"Then we must have seen a different Glenn than the one at the base," Netanya stated slyly. "The Glenn we saw was bloodthirsty and merciless."

"You need to stop this. Or I'll be sure to," Rick threatened.

"Cindy! Bring them to me!" Netanya called to her granddaughter. Footsteps were heard upstairs, shuffling around. Rick could only stare at the woman in front of him with complete and utter anger.

If this bitch thought she could just come in and start making accusations against one of his own and get people to ostracize him, then she had another thing coming. 

Cindy flew down the stairs with the two bats in her hands, wanting to get them out of her hands as soon as possible.

"Here you go, grandmother," Cindy passed them along.

"And? Did you just figure out he had these?" Rick asked, unconvinced.

"The timeline of what happened at Oceanside matches with his arrival. I believe...I know he arrived to enlist our help and when we didn't agree to that he framed The Saviors for the fire and murder of Beatrice. He knew our history with Negan and he predicted that we would help you all if The Saviors attacked us again," Netanya's scowl matched Rick's.

"How did you even get these? I know he didn't give them to you. Willingly," Rick snatched the bats from her grasp.

"My granddaughter stole them from his house. I asked her to." Cindy looked down at her feet, ashamed that she had broken into Glenn's house on behalf of her grandmother.

"So you start this witch hunt to cover for your actual crimes? I know all about you, Netanya," Rick got in closer to her, making her tense up. "How you tried to kill Tara. How you wanted to seek vengeance on Alexandria," His hand went to his side again; the murderous feelings consuming his thoughts and actions.

"Maybe all of Alexandria was behind this. Maybe even Hilltop," Netanya snarled. Cindy looked at the adults in terror, leaving the hallway and going into the kitchen to get away from it all.

"You already served your purpose here. Don't think for a second you're not expendable," Rick backed away with the bats in hand.

"I hoped to have a civil discussion, Rick. I hoped we could come to some sort of compromise," Netanya feigned a sigh.

"You know we are past compromises."

"'Then how do you expect to rebuild society? Isn't that what your people wanted?"

"We do. But we're not going to rebuild with people like you," Rick stated, turning to leave this horrid woman.

"All I want, what my women want is justice. If it's one thing we can both agree on, it's that we need to rebuild. That's how a civilization wor-" But Rick had already left her house before she could finish her sentence.

~

Justice.

What did that word even mean now?

Rick remembered in his law enforcement days that it stood for fairness and protection and the punishment of wrongdoings.

But in this world, was justice even applicable?

Rick looked up at Glenn's house to see him staring back at him from the top window.

Maybe like the statue itself, he was blindfolded to what his friend had become.

The sense of justice he abandoned long ago was creeping back into his heart along with the desire to rebuild.

Glenn looked down on his friend sadly, seeing the weapons he carried. He knew it was only a matter of time before the sword of justice fell upon him and all his friends' blindfolds were lifted off to see exactly what he's become.