Chapter 144: The Ghost Who Came Home
Rick stared at the man in front of him.
Not a dream. Not a memory.
Axel stood there. Real. Solid. Alive.
The sound of voices inside faded into background noise as Rick stepped forward. "You're supposed to be dead," he muttered, almost afraid to blink.
Axel gave a slow, tired grin. "You'd be surprised how often people say that to me."
Rick let out a short, disbelieving breath. Then, without a word, he reached forward and wrapped his arms around Axel in a tight, rough hug. For a long second, Axel didn't move—then, awkwardly, stiffly, he hugged back.
Rick stepped back and looked at him. "You look like hell."
Axel looked past Rick toward the open door, where warm light and the hum of laughter spilled out. "Felt worse."
Rick didn't ask where he'd been. Not yet.
He just opened the door wider. "Come on. They're all inside."
Axel didn't move. "They'll freak out."
"They'll manage."
Rick stepped back. Axel hesitated, then followed.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of barbecue, beer, and the sound of familiar voices. Negan was halfway through a story, beer in one hand, laughing loudly at his own joke.
"…so then I said, 'You're not a Whisperer—you're a whiner with a skin fetish!'"
Everyone groaned.
"You've told that one like ten times now," Maggie said with a smirk.
"I will keep telling it until it stops being funny—which it never will."
Rick cleared his throat.
They all turned.
At first, they just saw Rick.
Then Axel stepped in behind him.
Silence fell like a curtain.
Beer bottles paused mid-air. Eyes widened. Daryl's hand instinctively brushed against the handle of his knife—but stopped short when he truly looked.
Axel.
Five years older.
Hair ghostly white.
Eyes… different.
He looked at each of them. Slowly. One by one.
Michonne.
Maggie.
Daryl.
Judith—now older, her mouth hanging open.
Negan. Who looked like he was seeing a ghost and couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry.
Finally, Maggie stood.
Her voice was a whisper. "Axel…?"
He gave her a faint nod. "Hey."
The dam broke.
Maggie crossed the room fast and threw her arms around him, hugging him so tightly he nearly staggered.
"You're alive," she said into his shoulder, choking back a sob. "You're alive."
He didn't speak. He just closed his eyes and held her for a moment before gently pulling back.
Negan was next. He approached slowly, staring at Axel like he'd just walked out of a tomb.
"Well shit," he said finally. "Look who crawled out of Hell and didn't even bring a souvenir."
Axel smirked faintly. "Sorry. They were all out of T-shirts."
Negan burst out laughing and pulled Axel into a one-armed hug, clapping his back hard. "Goddamn, kid. You got old."
"You got soft," Axel shot back.
They laughed. The tension in the room eased—just slightly.
Judith approached next, her voice trembling. "You… you saved me. That day. When Alpha came. I never forgot."
Axel looked at her, and for a moment something softened in his eyes. "You grew up," he said quietly.
Judith nodded. "I waited."
He gave her a small smile. "Thanks."
Daryl didn't say much—just gave Axel a nod and a quiet, "Glad you're still breathing."
Axel returned the nod.
Michonne smiled at him, eyes misty. "The world's been quiet since you left," she said.
Axel looked down. "Quiet doesn't mean peaceful."
They all sat down eventually, still stunned, but somehow returning to the rhythm of their gathering. The beer flowed again. Laughter returned, though now it carried a ghost of disbelief.
Axel stayed quiet for most of it, sitting on the edge of the couch, hands resting in his lap, katana leaning nearby. He watched them. Watched their happiness. Watched the way they healed.
Watched a world he no longer belonged to.
"So…" Rick said finally, his tone careful. "Where've you been all this time?"
Axel looked into his beer, swirling it slightly. "Nowhere that matters."
"That's not an answer," Daryl said.
"It's the only one I've got."
They didn't press.
Not yet.
But the silence that followed was heavy.
Negan finally broke it. "You know what I think? I think the dead got scared of you. I think you scared death so bad it just quit."
Axel didn't laugh. "Maybe."
Rick leaned forward. "There's rumors—everywhere. About what you did. About what happened to Redhold. About how the walkers just… stopped."
Axel looked up, meeting Rick's eyes. "They deserved peace. That's all."
No one knew what to say to that.
Maggie watched him with an unreadable look. After a moment, she reached out and touched his hand.
"You're not staying a stranger again, are you?" she asked.
Axel didn't pull away. "I don't know what I'm staying."
That night, long after the gathering ended, after people went home and the laughter died down, Rick stood at his front door with Axel beside him.
"You don't have to be alone," Rick said quietly. "You're not a ghost."
Axel lit another cigarette. "I might be."
Rick frowned. "You're still one of us."
Axel didn't look at him. Just stared at the moon above.
"I'm something else now, Rick. I don't know what—but it's not this."
Rick put a hand on his shoulder. "Then stay. Figure it out. We've got time now."
For a moment, Axel didn't answer.
Then—quietly, almost inaudibly—he said, "Okay."
.
.
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