twd: the last silence

Chapter 89 – "The Vote"

Axel stepped into the town hall, the wooden door creaking behind him as it shut. Everyone was there—Rick, Michonne, Maggie, Daryl, Gabriel, even the folks who usually kept to themselves. A silence washed over the room as he strolled in, eyes scanning the tense crowd.

"Woow," he said, dragging the word out with a lazy grin, "a big ol' party for this Axel guy. That's nice."

A few people chuckled under their breath, some smirked. Axel's tone was light, but the air in the room was thick with something heavier—uncertainty, guilt, maybe even a little shame.

He walked to the center, hands in his pockets.

"So," he began, spinning slowly to face all sides of the room, "what do you guys think? Should Axel stay… or leave?"

He said it like he wasn't Axel. Like he was just another face in the crowd throwing in his opinion. That's what made it funny—and real.

Some people laughed quietly. Not mockery. Just the release of tension, the absurdity of it all. For days, all anyone had done was talk about him. Whisper. Argue. Debate. And now here he was, joking about himself like they'd been talking about someone else entirely.

Rick finally stepped forward.

"No jokes today," he said softly, but without hostility. "This isn't about deciding your worth. We just... we need to talk. Out loud. Not behind closed doors. Not with whispers."

Axel nodded. "Sure, talk away. I'm just here for the free snacks."

Again, a ripple of reluctant laughter.

Maggie, arms crossed, leaned forward. "You saved Judith. You didn't have to."

Axel raised an eyebrow. "Nope."

"You could've walked away. Hell, you could've let this place burn."

"Could've," Axel agreed.

"But you didn't."

He shrugged. "A kid was screaming."

That silence returned. Not judging this time—just... listening.

Daryl finally spoke up from the back. "He's rough. He's wild. But he's real."

Gabriel, surprisingly, added next, "Redemption is not something granted. It's lived. And... I believe he's living it."

Michonne met Axel's gaze. "You don't talk like someone who wants power. You talk like someone who wants peace. That's rare."

Axel let out a soft chuckle, almost sad. "Yeah, well... peace is expensive."

Rick nodded once. "We won't vote today. We'll see. We'll keep watching. You'll stay. Not as a prisoner. Not as a guest. Just... as a man trying."

Axel looked around at them all.

"Fair deal," he said. "But if this ends with another big party, I want cake next time."

This time, the laughter was genuine.

---

The sun was high over Alexandria, hammering down on the cracked ground as the aftermath of the walker attack still lingered in broken boards and half-torn fencing.

Axel stood near the damaged east fence, sleeves rolled up, sweat lining his brow. He had a hammer in one hand, a cigarette dangling from his lips, and absolutely no clue how to fix a damn fence.

"You're holding that like it's a sword," a voice called from behind.

Axel turned, grinning at the sound. Rosita stood there, arms crossed, a slight smirk on her face.

"Rosita, sweetheart," Axel said with that signature rough charm, "don't disrespect me like that. Swords are cooler."

"You even know what you're doing?"

"Not a clue." He puffed smoke and looked at the splintered post. "But I figured if I just hit things hard enough, they'll listen."

Rosita rolled her eyes and tossed him a set of nails. "Then you're definitely gonna break something. Maybe your own hand."

Axel caught the nails with one hand. "Worth the risk."

She stepped closer, took the hammer from his hand with a slow motion, and started showing him how to angle the nails.

Axel watched her for a second and whistled. "Damn. You actually know what you're doing."

"I've been fixing this place since before you were the talk of the town."

"Careful," he teased. "You're starting to sound like you like me."

Rosita scoffed, but her smile gave her away. "I still don't trust you."

"Fair enough," Axel said. "But hey, maybe trust starts with fences."

She chuckled, shook her head, and kept working. Axel knelt beside her and tried again, this time doing it right—more or less.

After a few minutes of focused effort and shared sweat, the fence started looking whole again. The sun began to lower, casting long shadows.

"You ever stop running your mouth?" she asked, handing him a bottle of water.

Axel leaned back, wiped his brow, and grinned wide. "Nope. If I did, people might start thinking I'm just some quiet psychopath."

"Still might," she said, but the warmth in her voice betrayed her.

They sat for a while, watching the walls, sharing a quiet that didn't feel awkward. Axel looked up at the sky.

"You know," he said, "I used to think places like this were just fairy tales. Too good to be true."

Rosita glanced at him. "And now?"

He took a deep breath, then looked at her with a rare seriousness in his eyes.

"Now I think... maybe it's worth fixing."

---

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