C H A P T E R  0 2

❛ how lucky we are ❜

MILO

     SILENCE WAS ALL THAT REMAINED ONCE the Saviors got into their cars and drove away. The only sound that filled the air were the quiet sobs of his family. They were still seated on the cold ground as the aftermath of the night still clung to their bones. He was frozen in place, his entire body was shaking. His eyes were casted downwards, not really seeing anything beside the cruel image of his friends being murdered. Over and over again, on repeat inside of his thoughts, breaking his heart in two.

Milo's entire body felt heavy, as though his bones were made of lead. His throat was raw and pained. He could vaguely recall himself crying out for his sister as she was thrown in the back of the van, but everything was a blur. The only thing that wasn't, was the sight of that damned bat being brought down again and again...

It felt as though all of his strength, all of his fire, had been sucked out of him, leaving him weak and vulnerable. His very skin felt fragile, as though it had been replaced by shards of glass he was unable to piece back together. He was a mosaic of broken pieces, left behind in the dirt.

He lost track of time as he was seated there on the floor. No one was speaking, no one made a move, all of them locked in a state of shock. Until, finally, a sound caught his attention. With dry eyes he looked up from the ground, watching as Maggie's trembling body slowly tried to get back on her feet. For a moment they all stared, maybe hoping she'd give up and sit back down again, granting them a moment longer to catch their breath. But Maggie did none of that, instead she stood, stronger than all of them.

"Maggie," Rick muttered her name. "Maggie."

Sobbing softly she walked forward, making a straight line towards Glenn's mangled body. When she stumbled, Milo jumped to his feet. He walked up towards her, standing by her side to make sure she wouldn't fall.

"You have to sit down," he said softly. Concern about his friend was the only thing able to make him even stand at all.

"No," Maggie replied. Her voice was firm despite the tears crawling down her cheeks.

Milo looked around, hopelessly. His eyes landed on Rick, who'd gotten to his feet as well. "We need to get you to Hilltop," Rick said, arm outstretched, as if wanting to catch her.

"You need to get ready," Maggie told him as though she hadn't heard him.

Rick and Milo shared a glance, their worry mirrored in each other's eyes.

"Ready for what?" Milo asked.

Maggie took a deep breath, her entire body trembling from the effort it took but when she spoke her voice was strong. "To fight them."

Silence hung in the air after her words, as if even the wind was holding its breath. Milo glanced around nervously, irrational fear of being watched by a Savior who might have stayed behind suddenly creeping up on him. A shiver went through him and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get a grip on his sanity again.

"They have Daryl and Quinn," Rick said and at the words Milo felt as though someone had punched him in the gut. The image of Quinn being pushed inside that van came rushing back to him and made him sway on his feet. "They have an army," Rick continued. "We would die, all of us."

But Maggie was relentless. "Go home. Take everybody with you." Her voice broke, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I can get there by myself."

"You can barely stand," Milo protested, watching as she held her stomach when she walked.

"I need to go," she said, then turned her eyes to Rick. "You need to go to Alexandria." She took a deep breath. "You were out-out here for me." The guilt weighed visibly on her shoulders and Milo wished for nothing more than to take it from her and crush it.

"We still are," Rick promised her.

She broke down crying.

Carefully, Milo reached out and placed his hand on her arm, holding her steady as sobs rattled her body. He barely managed to swallow his own tears, forcing himself to stay strong for her.

"I can make it now," she finally managed to say. "I need you to go back. I can't have you out here. I can't have you all out here anymore. I need you to go back."

Milo took a step forward, stepping into her line of sight. "Maggie," he whispered, waiting to continue until she finally turned her eyes to him. "I made a promise to-" Glenn's name got stuck in his throat and his eyes flickered to the body of his friend on the ground. He inhaled sharply before turning his gaze back to Maggie. "He made me promise to take care of you and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

Another sob left her lips and Milo pulled her close, holding her steady as she tried to catch her breath. His eyes flickered to Rick, still watching him. "I'll take her there. You gotta go back home."

Rick shook his head. "I can't just let the two of you go out there."

"I'll go with them," Sasha spoke up suddenly, standing up from where she'd been sitting on the ground. She walked towards them with determined steps and nodded at Milo. "We're taking her. We're not giving her a choice."

The words finally seemed to land and Maggie nodded. "I'm taking him with me," she muttered softly, her eyes focused on Glenn. She untangled herself from Milo's grasp and slowly knelt down beside her husband.

Beside him Sasha knelt down in front of Rosita, her resolve breaking as soon as their eyes met, both women weeping for the man they'd loved. "I'm gonna take him," Sasha said. "That's what I'm gonna do."

Rosita couldn't manage any words and instead nodded as silent tears kept crawling down her dirt stained cheeks.

Milo turned his eyes back to Maggie and watched as Aaron, Rick and Carl came walking up towards the crimson stained ground where Glenn lay. "I need to do this," Maggie told them through her tears.

"And we need to help you," Aaron spoke gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"No, no," Maggie muttered as she kept shaking her head, over and over again, lost in her grief.

"Please let us," Rick pleaded. "He is our - was our family too."

Finally, Maggie nodded as let Carl help her on her feet. The teenager held her close while Milo, Aaron and Rick lifted Glenn's body. Rosita, Sasha and Eugene carried Abraham's to the RV. Milo didn't allow himself to do as much as look over his shoulder as they left the clearing behind, afraid he'd break down crying once again.

Much later, whenever he looked back on that day, he wouldn't be able to recall how they made it to the Hilltop. Far in the distant blur of his memories he would recall the wooden gate opening with a crack, hands guiding them inside and supporting Maggie as they brought her to the medical trailer. Vaguely he would remember sitting down on the steps, as if wanting to guard the door leading to his broken friend. But the journey was a blur of images filled with too much red, so much red...

But that would be later, now he was drowning in his grief, unable to even think about the future that was waiting for them. With his head in his hands he sat there, listening to the muffled sounds of Sasha explaining to Jesus what had happened. He couldn't bring himself to join in the conversation, afraid that if he opened his mouth, all he'd be able to do was cry. So, he kept his eyes focused on the ground instead.

His friends, his family, had been torn apart.

Maybe they had it coming when they decided to fight. Maybe they should have been more careful but none of that mattered now. What mattered was thinking about how they would ever recover from this. Maggie's child would be fatherless, Sasha had to start her long road to recovery all over again, Quinn and Daryl could be tortured at this very moment. And all he could do was sit here and feel his heart ache. Feel his guilt and the weight of the promise he'd made to a friend now gone.

When he promised Glenn he'd take care of Maggie, he never actually believed the day he would have to do so was so close. He believed they would all make it out alive, that they would be fine...How naive he'd been. The world was cruel and unforgiving, he'd known it his entire life and yet he believed they all would be fine. How could he have been so foolish?

"Milo?" Jesus' voice came from his right, but Milo didn't look up. "You need to get some sleep, I'll watch out for Maggie, let you know if anything changes."

He couldn't find the energy within himself to respond and so he simply kept staring ahead of him. His eyes, once a vibrant brown, now empty windows to a broken soul. He didn't want to sleep, didn't want to close his eyes for fear of the images awaiting him in the darkness. He wasn't strong enough for the dreams that would haunt him if he were to give in to sleep. No matter how much his eyes ached and his bones begged for rest, he refused to give in.

"Milo?" Jesus repeated.

But his attention was captured by a cart being pushed past him, two bodies placed on it, covered by a white sheet. Suddenly he was on his feet as he rushed towards the cart, his eyes focused on the two women moving it.

"Where are you taking them?" he questioned as soon as he reached them, his voice breaking.

The two women shared an uncomfortable look and then one of them spoke up: "We burn our dead outside of the walls."

Milo shook his head, tears gathering in his eyes. "No-no please I need-" he cut himself off and inhaled sharply. "We need to bury them."

"I'm sorry," the other woman said, her eyes sympathetic but her words still cut through his soul like a knife.

"It's okay, Brianna," Jesus spoke up from beside him, startling Milo. He hadn't even noticed the man had followed him towards the cart. "I'll find a place for them."

For a moment the two of them seemed to doubt but then finally the one who'd spoken first nodded and placed a comforting hand on Brianna's arm. They put the cart down and walked away, leaving Milo and Jesus standing there. His eyes were glued to the figures beneath the white sheats, his hands trembling as they clutched the wood of the cart. He was frozen in time, the scene in the woods replaying itself in his mind as he watched his fallen friends. He couldn't shake it, couldn't pause it, was forced to watch it on repeat for God knows how long...

A warm hand placed itself on his shoulder, softly shaking him from his trance. Only then did he notice the tears that had been crawling down his dirt stained cheeks. Quickly he reached up and wiped them away before turning his glassy gaze to Jesus.

"Come on," Jesus softly said. He took place behind the cart and started pushing it towards the wall.

Milo joined him and together they pushed the wooden cart towards a remote corner of the community, behind one of the trailers, just in front of the wall. Far away from prying eyes.

"This looks like a good place," Jesus offered.

Milo wordlessly nodded, staring at the grass covered ground at his feet.

"I found some shovels," a voice spoke up from behind them, making both of them turn around. Sasha had joined them, holding three shovels in her hands.

Milo smiled at her, and took one of the shovels she handed him. Together they got to work, beneath the heat of the golden rays of sunlight they dug into the ground. Soon enough he could feel the blisters starting to form on his hands, but he was thankful for the distraction. The pain kept him from thinking and the hard work kept him from having to feel.

If only just for a moment.

He never paused, he never stopped to take so much as a breath. He kept working. He kept on pushing the shovel into the ground and out again. Slowly the heap of dirt beside the grave grew taller and still he kept digging. He got lost in the simplicity of the rhythm. In and out, in and out...Until his hands ached and his back burned.

The hole ended being deeper than it probably had to be. If it was up to him he would've kept digging for a long time, perhaps the ground might have swallowed him then and give him the dark nothingness he craved.

But the moment had come to put the shovel away and lower his friends into the ground. Together with Sasha he carried Abraham's body to the grave on the right, slowly lowering him into the earth. Then they placed Glenn in the one on the left and his heart ached for Maggie, unable to join them in this moment of goodbye.

He stood above the graves, desperately searching for words, rattling his brain for something to say. But everything he could think of got stuck in his throat and refused to leave his lips. He lifted his eyes, hating himself for being unable to speak for these people, who had taught him so much, who he'd loved so deeply and was now unable to say goodbye to.

His eyes met electric blue ones, with deep hues of sorrow as he watched the scene before him unfold. Jesus took a deep breath and then started speaking softly. "When we lose someone we love, our souls are destroyed, shattered. And we start looking for ways to hold on to them, to see their smiles, hear their voice. We search for memories."

Milo averted his gaze, unable to bear the genuine hurt in Jesus' eyes. Hurt and grief he shared with people he barely knew, simply because that's who he was.

"There is a certain beauty to be found in the ways we try to save those memories. Some people built shrines, some travel the world, some even set aside all their money to prevent someone else from losing a loved one. Everybody finds a way to savor those memories. And we shouldn't have to, we shouldn't have to say goodbye to our friends, our family. But-" A small smile appeared on his face as he looked down at the graves. "But maybe we should count ourselves lucky that we had someone we cared about so much, that our soul never stops looking for ways to savor those memories."

A shaky breath escaped his lips and despite the heavy weight on his heart, he felt himself smiling, for there was a truth to Jesus' words. Even after the end of the world, they had found something they cared for. A whole new family. How lucky they were to have something that made saying goodbye so hard.

Slowly he took a step forward and took a handful of dirt, throwing it on the white sheet that covered Glenn's body. "I will take care of Maggie," he whispered. "You can rest easy."

He turned away to give Sasha a moment and walked over to Abraham's grave, where he took another hand of dirt. He smiled despite himself, he simply couldn't help it when thinking of the tall soldier with his love for profound words.

"We're gonna keep fighting," he promised as he knelt down beside the grave. "Just like you taught us. I swear it."

Then he let go of the dirt, watching as it hit his body. For a moment he let himself simply sit there and look at his friends, letting their deaths fuel the raging fire slowly awakening in his heart. Finally, he got to his feet and took the shovel back into his hands. Slowly but surely the graves were filled, until the fresh dirt was the only reminder left of the beautiful souls buried beneath the earth.

A U T H O R 'S  N O T E

Hey everyone! I know it's been a while, but I'm finally back with a new chapter! It took me very long to write this because I got so stuck in writing the process of grief. Season 7 is a season filled with very heavy themes and I wanted to take the time to treat them right. I had first planned for this chapter to be much longer, but I wanted to focus on grieving and the burial scene and keep it simple. I hope you guys don't mind and still enjoyed reading :)

The speech Jesus gives is partly inspired by a speech given by a character in the series New Amsterdam and partly inspired by Visions quote in WandaVision about grief. Both these quotes really hit me deep and so I wanted to put my own versions in this story.

Thank you all so much for your endless support. I've gotten so many messages of people telling me they were looking forward to the next chapter. It makes me so happy to see how much ya'll are invested in this story! Don't worry, the next chapter won't take as long because I've already started writing it :)

Much love

xx Nelly