Chapter Text
Light filtered in through the bullet holes that littered the back of the van, cutting through the darkness as the muffled voices from outside seemed to draw nearer with every passing moment. You were curled up in Daryl’s arms, holding your wadded shirt against the wound in his shoulder, trying to stem the bleeding, though the blood had soaked through the fabric and was trickling over your hand. His skin was waxen, his eyes wide with fear, as he strained to hear what was going on on the other side of the metal doors. He had a tight hold of your waist, his nails biting into your flesh through the thin fabric of your vest, but the pain was a welcome distraction from your current situation, so you made no move to stop him. Instead, you focused on his touch, letting your gaze flick over the rest of the group that had stumbled with you into the Saviors’ trap.
Michonne’s eyes were closed, her head tipped back against the side of the van as though she were sleeping, but you could feel the anger coming off of her in waves and knew she was still conscious, biding her time until the moment came to make a move. With Daryl hurt, she was your best fighter, and you knew that she’d be feeling the burden of that responsibility as the sickening tension thickened the air. Glenn drummed his fingers lightly against the metal floor where he sat opposite you, a nervous habit, and you could see his mouth moving, a silent promise that he’d return to his pregnant wife, no matter what it took. At his side, Rosita’s expression was vacant, a blank mask, but her hands were balled into fists, her knuckles white as she struggled to keep control of her emotions. You were sure that none of you knew how long you’d been held for, time losing all meaning as you sat, helpless, and waited. There was nothing else that you could do.
A raised voice called for Dwight, and you felt Daryl’s body tense beneath you at the mention of the man he hated so vehemently, the man who’d killed Denise; and then came the sound of footsteps, drawing closer, and blinding light as the doors were wrenched open and the glare of the headlamps from several vehicles flooded in. Rough hands gripped your arms, tearing you from Daryl’s embrace and dragging you out onto the rock-strewn floor at the edge of the road, shoving you roughly into place. In horror, your eyes found Rick’s, and you were shocked to see even more of your family, lined up on their knees as you now were, trembling with terror. Maggie was beside him, barely able to hold herself upright, and you felt ice shoot through your veins as you took in her deathly appearance, murmuring her name, though your voice was drowned out by Glenn’s desperate shout as he tried to go to her, held down by the men that stood over him, weapons raised.
Abraham, Sasha, Aaron, Carl, Eugene. You counted them off in your head as your eyes flicked along the line, shaking your head in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. How was this happening?
“We’ve got a full boat!” the man standing before you announced, grinning in twisted pleasure as he surveyed your group. His eyes flashed viciously as he backed towards the RV parked up behind him, his thick moustache twitching as he held in a chuckle of satisfaction. “Let’s meet the man!”
He knocked twice on the door of the caravan, moving to the side as you held your breath, waiting to see what monster would appear. The door swung open, and a tall, lean figure appeared, stepping casually out into the night with a smug grin painting his features.
“Are we pissin’ our pants yet?” His voice was a deep drawl, dripping with arrogance, and, when he moved into the light, you could see his perfectly slicked-back hair and the snappy red scarf that was tucked into the collar of his leather jacket. He looked put-together, clean and polished, a stark contrast to the filthy, sweat-slick figures kneeling before him.
The atmosphere in the dense crowd that surrounded you had shifted as soon as this man had appeared, the sense of fear tangible in the air, and you felt yourself growing cold as his eyes flicked over you. In the gloom they appeared almost black, and it only increased the feeling that you were in the presence of true evil.
“Boy, do I have a feeling we’re gettin’ close.” He had a baseball bat resting on his shoulder, and, as the beams of the headlamps glinted off of it, you realised it was wrapped in barbed wire, vicious and deadly, a growing nausea rising in your gut. “Yeah, it’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here, real soon.”
You tried to comprehend his words, what he was actually saying, but it was all just nonsense, self-indulgent, as if he just enjoyed hearing himself talk. You hated him. You didn’t even know this man, but, as you watched your family cower, you truly hated him.
“Which one of you pricks is the leader?” Finally, an actual question that was relevant and not just mindless scare-mongering.
“It’s this one,” the man who had summoned him out of the camper spoke up, picking Rick out of the line-up. “He’s the guy.”
The bat-wielding boss strolled over to Rick, sighing heavily, as if he’d expected something… more.
“Hi, you’re Rick, right?” He didn’t wait for a response. “I’m Negan, and I do not appreciate you killing my men.” You squeezed your eyes shut as your mind flashed back to the attack on the satellite station. You’d thought Negan had been killed that night, you all had. But it had been too easy. You should have known. It was quickly becoming evident that the Saviors’ numbers were greater than you had ever imagined, and you knew instinctively that you weren’t all leaving this place with your lives.
“Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people!” That had been the battle on the railroad tracks, when Denise had been killed. God, had it all just been leading up to this? How long had they been watching you, waiting for an opportunity to make you pay? Daryl’s hand sought yours, giving it a squeeze that you knew was intended to be comforting, but in fact it just felt like goodbye. “Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is, but I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly.”
You watched as Negan stared Rick down, your leader physically shaking beneath his gaze as sweat dripped from his dark curls. “Yeah, you are so gonna regret crossin’ me in a few minutes. You see, Rick, whatever you do, you don’t mess with the new world order. The new world order is this, and it’s really very simple, so, even if you’re stupid, which you very well may be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes! Pay attention.” He swung the bat down from his shoulder, pointing it in the sheriff’s face, the metal spikes millimetres from the tip of his nose. “Give me your shit, or I will kill you.”
“Today was career day. We invested a lot, so you’d know who I am and what I can do.” He wandered along the line, staring down at your petrified expressions, turning back to your leader as he instructed, “You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That’s your job. Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow, but swallow it you most certainly will.” He paused for effect, letting his words sink in. “You ruled the roost. You built somethin’. You thought you were safe. I get it, but the word is out. You are not safe, not even close. In fact, you are pegged , more pegged if you don’t do what I want, and what I want is half your shit. If that’s too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it’ll even out, sooner or later. This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone knocks on your door, you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us, and we will knock it down.’
Your mind was reeling at his orders, wondering how it would be possible to survive under those conditions. It was getting hard enough coming up with enough supplies to feed Alexandria’s considerable population, without having to give half of what you managed to scrounge up to these clowns. A part of you was waiting for someone to argue, to fight back, but the group remained silent. After all, what else could you do? You were unarmed, outnumbered, and at least two of you were seriously injured or sick, going on Daryl’s shaky breathing beside you and Maggie’s rapidly deteriorating state. You couldn’t win this, not tonight.
“You understand?” Negan was asking Rick, leaning over him and cupping a hand to his ear. “What, no answer? You don’t really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished , now, did you?” Your stomach dropped. “I don’t want to kill you people, I just wanna make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me. You can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you?”
Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him pacing back and forth, his voice increasing in volume and force. You shuffled closer to Daryl, needing to feel him at your side, though you knew there was nothing he could do. He was growing paler by the second.
“But you killed my people,” Negan continued, “a whole damn lot of them, and for that… for that you’re gonna pay. So, now I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you.”
You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you, and Daryl let go of your hand to wrap his good arm around your waist, though you didn’t miss the look Negan gave you as he noticed the small display of affection. He spun his bat like a twirling baton, addressing Rick once more.
“This… This is Lucille, and she is awesome . All this, all this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honour.” He was strolling along the line, unhurried, swinging his weapon in front of your faces, enjoying the flinches and gasps his movements elicited.
You closed your eyes, tuning him out and focusing on keeping your breathing even, fighting off the iron band that had started to tighten across your chest. It had been a long time since you’d last suffered a panic attack, but you could feel the anxiety starting to suffocate you, and passing out now could be fatal. Daryl squeezed you against him, and you nodded to let him know that you were okay, turning your face into his shoulder and inhaling his familiar scent of cigarettes and engine oil and something musky that was just purely him. How many nights had you fallen asleep surrounded by the smell of him? You’d grown apart since settling in Alexandria, your relationship straining as you flourished within the fences and he floundered, frustrated by the day-to-day domesticity of life in the community, and pained by their naivety and inexperience. But you loved him, God, how you loved him, and in that moment you just hoped that he knew, that he still felt the same way deep down.
“No! No!” Glenn’s desperate shouts pulled your attention back to the group, watching in horror as he launched himself at Negan who stood over a weak and quivering Maggie. He was brought down hard by the nearest Saviors, the soft thuds of blows landing combining with his pained grunts to make you grimace.
“Get him back in line,” Negan ordered, and he was dragged back into position, still moaning, crying, begging for his wife to be spared. You felt your heart break, and a tear slid down your cheek as you dropped your gaze to the ground, hiding behind your curtain of hair. “Don’t any of you do that again,” he warned. “I will shut that shit down, no exceptions. First one’s free.”
The group remained silent, shaken by the violence that Glenn’s outburst had been suppressed with, each individually wondering if you had the guts to do anything about it.
“Sucks, don’t it?” Having regained his composure, Negan was standing tall as if daring one of you to disobey him. “The moment you realise you don’t know shit.”
As if to emphasise his point, the power he wielded, he shifted his focus to the youngest figure in the line, smirking at Rick as he took in their similarities. “'This is your kid, right? This is definitely your kid.”
“Just stop this!” Rick shouted, his voice coming out as a panicked snarl.
“Hey!” Negan snapped. “Do not make me kill the little future serial killer. Don’t make it easy on me. I gotta pick somebody . Everybody’s at the table waiting for me to order.’ He whistled to himself as he began to move along the line again, chuckling when he still came up stuck. “I got an idea.”
You knew you would have nightmares about this moment for the rest of your life.
“Eenie meenie miney mo, catch a tiger by his toe.”
They would smell like the sheen of sweat that coated Daryl’s skin and the coppery tang of his blood soaking through his shirt.
“If he hollers, let him go.”
They would feel like the chill of the evening breeze and the pit of fear in your stomach that was growing upwards and outwards until it felt like it might swallow you whole.
“My mother told me to pick the very best one, and you are it .”
They would look like the murderous intent behind Negan’s eyes as he jabbed Lucille towards each one of you in turn and the determined set of Abraham’s expression as he was selected, barely a flicker of emotion passing over his face as he waited for what was to come.
“Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doing that.”
They would sound like the sickening squelches of wood and metal against brain and bone, of the screams of your family as one of your own fell, of Negan’s arrogant crowing as he landed blow after blow on Abraham’s skull until there was nothing left but a mess of gore on the ground.
You buried your face in Daryl’s shirt, uncaring of the blood that smeared across your cheeks as you sobbed. His hand rested on your back, rubbing soothing circles over your spine, but you could hear his heart pounding frantically in his chest, and you knew that he was barely controlling his fury.
“Oh, my goodness! Look at this! You guys, look at my dirty girl!” Negan was laughing, inspecting Lucille and swinging her round, splattering blood across your faces. Rosita’s cries drew his attention, and he moved closer to her, holding the bat under her nose as he taunted her. “Oh, damn, were you… were you together ? That sucks. But if you were, you should know there was a reason for all this. Red - and hell, he was, is, and will ever be red - he just took one or six or seven for the team! So, take a damn look .”
Getting no reaction, he moved on, thrusting Lucille into your face next, yelling, “Take a damn look!”
Before you knew what was happening, Daryl had thrown himself at Negan, landing a punch square on his jaw before he was dragged to the ground by two of his men as Rick shouted at him to stop.
“No!” Negan had lost his cool, his temper spilling over momentarily before he reined it back in. “Oh, no. That? That is a no-no. The whole thing! Not one bit of that shit flies here.”
Dwight had hurried over towards the scuffle on the ground as Daryl was pinned down, his crossbow raised and pointed at Daryl’s head. You heard a howl of pain pierce the air and realised it was coming from you as Dwight looked to his boss for instruction. “Do you want me to do it?”
Negan dropped into a crouch, so he could fist Daryl’s hair, yanking his head back to grin down at him, relishing the pain and fear in his expression. “No. No, you don’t kill them, not until you try a little.”
Daryl grunted as he struggled against his captors, the three of them manhandling him back into place beside you. He was breathing heavily, and you shot him a desperate look as one of them moved to separate you, stopping you from sliding across towards him.
“And anyway,” Negan continued as he levered himself upright once more, “that’s not how it works. Now, I already told you people, first one’s free, then, what’d I say? I said I would shut that shit down! No exceptions. Now, I don’t know what kind of lying assholes you’ve been dealing with, but I’m a man of my word. First impressions are important. I need you to know me. So, back to it!’
You had barely taken a breath, when Negan’s bat came crashing down again, this time cracking across Glenn’s skull, battering him into the ground. Maggie let out a strangled gasp, and you thought it was over, that it had at least been quick, but Glenn was pushing himself back up with an inhuman groan. His head was mangled, his eyeball bulbous and disturbing as it protruded from its socket.
“Buddy, you still there?” Negan seemed genuinely impressed. “I just don’t know. It seems like you’re trying to speak, but you just took a hell of a hit. I just popped your skull so hard, your eyeball just popped out, and it is gross as shit !”
Glenn ignored him, intent on finding the words he needed to say. “Maggie,” he spluttered, his voice thick and broken, “I’ll find you.”
“Oh. Oh, hell. I can see this is hard on you guys.” Negan’s fake sympathy had you itching to reach for your gun and put a bullet through his brain, raw bloodlust unlike anything you’d ever felt before. “I am sorry, I truly am, but I did say it. No exceptions!” He swung Lucille again, smacking Glenn hard across the face and sending him sprawling back onto the hard earth. You watched Daryl visibly flinch each time the bat came down, Maggie’s gasping cries filling your ears, and you prayed to God that this was going to be over soon. How could any of you go on after this?
“You bunch of pussies,” Negan rasped breathlessly as he continued to pulverise Glenn’s skull, beyond any sort of recognition. “I’m just getting started. Lucille is thirsty! She is a vampire bat.”
Beside you, you heard a stifled sob as Daryl fell to pieces, his eyes fixed on what was left of your comrade.
“What? Was the joke that bad?” Negan continued to push, wanting a reaction, your misery not enough for him.
“I’m gonna kill you,” Rick growled through his tears, drawing Negan closer to be able to hear him.
“What? I didn’t quite catch that. You’re gonna have to speak up.”
“Not today,” Rick promised, “not tomorrow, but I’m gonna kill you.”
Negan gasped dramatically. “Jesus. Simon, what did he have? A knife?”
“Uh, he had a hatchet.”
“A hatchet? He had an axe?” He laughed dismissively at Rick’s choice of weapon, shaking his head. “Simon’s my right-hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without them? A whole lot of work!” He arched a brow at the sheriff. “Do you have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathin’? Oh, or did I…” He acted out the swinging of his bat, frowning when Rick ducked his head, focusing his gaze on the ground. “Sure. Yeah. Give me his axe.”
There was a collective intake of breath from your group as he grasped a hold of Rick’s jacket, towing him roughly behind him as he made his way to the RV, tucking the hatchet into his belt. “I’ll be right back. Maybe Rick will be with me, and, if not, well, we can just turn these people inside out, can’t we? I mean, the ones that are left.”
The two men disappeared into the caravan, and, moments later, the engine spluttered a few times, finally roaring into life after a short delay and juddering out of the clearing and off down the road. The crowd of Saviors around you immediately relaxed, breaking off into smaller groups and talking quietly amongst themselves, though several still kept their guns trained on you where you knelt on the cold, hard, ground.
You crawled over to Daryl, who was trembling uncontrollably, his face wet with tears as you cupped his cheeks in your hands and forced him to meet your eyes. “Daryl… D, what are we gonna do? What do we do now?”
“Glenn,” was all he said, his voice a hoarse whisper as he shook his head in shock. “I didn’t mean… That wasn’t…”
“Shhh,” you hushed him, brushing the hair back from his face, so you could press a soft kiss to his forehead. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“But, I-”
“It wasn’t your fault, Daryl.” He seemed unable to say anything else, unable to offer any solutions, so you slumped down at his side, letting him rest against you, your arms wrapped around him. “I love you. I just wanted to say it. I know we’ve been going through something lately, and I know things have gotten hard, but… I still love you just as much as I ever did. I can’t lose you. God, please, I can’t lose you.”
Your words got through to him, and he reached his arm round to cradle the back of your head, pulling your face into his neck, as he husked, “Love ya too. Always will, no matter what happens.”
Time ticked slowly by as you sat and waited. Part of you was sure that Rick wouldn’t come back, that this was it: the world as you knew it, over. However, another part of you reasoned that this was an exercise in asserting authority. A leaderless group wouldn’t be able to provide what Negan wanted, so it was in his best interests to keep Rick alive. A silence had fallen over all of you, broken only by another burst of hiccuping sobs as one of you broke down again. You were a strong group, you’d come through so much together, but this felt different. You weren’t sure if any one of you would ever truly recover.
By the time the RV finally returned, it was dawn, and the road was lit by sunlight instead of the beams of the trucks. The door swung open, and Rick was shoved out, unceremoniously, landing in a heap in front of you. Negan reached down to drag him closer, positioning him in the centre of the semi-circle, so you all had a clear view. The knot in your stomach tightened as you waited for what would come next.
“Here we are,” he announced, his eyes focused on the man on the ground before him. “Let me ask you something, Rick. Do you even know what that little trip was about?”
Rick’s eyes met yours as he surveyed the group, checking that his people were okay, despite his sorry state.
“Speak when you’re spoken to,” Negan ordered him.
“Okay,” Rick agreed, all of the fight having gone out of him. “Okay.”
“That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand, but you’re still looking at me the same damn way, like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that’s not gonna work. So, do I give you another chance?”
“Yeah,” Rick rasped. “Yes. Yes!”
“Okay.” Negan patted him on the back, finally getting an answer he was happy with, though you could tell from the look on his face that this meant another game was about to commence. “Alright, and here it is: the grand-prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone’s last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads.”
You gasped as you felt cool metal press against your skull through your hair, flinching away from it and finding yourself held in place by a strong hand on your shoulder.
“Level with their noses, so, if you have to fire, it’ll be a real mess. Good.” He turned to Carl, gesturing for him to come forward. “Kid, right here.” When Carl hesitated, he issued the instruction again. “Kid, now.”
You could hardly breathe as Carl climbed to his feet and made his way over, eyes narrowed as he tried to paste a brave face over his boyish features.
“You a southpaw?” Negan asked, unbuckling his belt as Carl came to a halt in front of him.
“Am I a what?”
“You a lefty?”
“No.”
“Good.” Negan reached for Carl’s left arm, threading his belt around the top of it like a tourniquet and pulling it tight. “That hurt?”
“No.” You could tell by Carl’s clenched jaw that he was lying, but knew he wouldn’t let his guard down after everything he’d seen that night.
“It should. It’s supposed to. Alright, get down on the ground, kid, next to Daddy. Spread them wings.” He took Carl’s hat, tossing it over his shoulder before forcing the boy to the floor, pressing him down until he was lying flat on his stomach.
“Simon, you got a pen?” Simon tossed him a Sharpie, which Negan uncapped with his teeth, crouching down to shove Carl’s sleeve further up his arm.
“Sorry, kid, this is gonna be as cold as a warlock’s ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across the forearm.” He drew a thick black line across the boy’s arm, just below the elbow. “There you go. Gives you a little leverage.”
You could hear Rick whispering to Negan, begging him to stop. “Please. Please don’t.”
“Me? I ain’t doin’ shit.” Negan let out a low chuckle. “Rick, I want you to take your axe and cut your son’s left arm off, right on that line.”
You let out a gasp of horror, but Negan was still talking. “Now, I know, I know. You’re gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still though, I’m gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then the people back home die, and then you, eventually. I’m gonna keep you breathin’ for a few years, just so you can stew on it.”
Michonne spoke up from beside you, her voice thick with emotion. “You- You don’t have to do this. We understand.”
“You understand,” Negan boomed, “yeah. I’m not sure that Rick does. I’m gonna need a clean cut, right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it’s gonna have to be like a salami slice - nothing messy, clean, forty-five degrees - give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid’ll be fine, probably.”
You were crying again, big gulping messy tears that dripped down your chin and cooled on your neck, leaving you clammy and uncomfortable, as you watched Rick searching desperately for a way out of this.
Negan lowered himself into a crouch again, resting his hand on Rick’s back as he encouraged him. “Rick, this needs to happen now . Chop, chop, or I will crush the little fella’s skull myself.”
“It can- It can- It can be me.” Rick was clutching onto anything that he thought might get him out of this, offering himself up in Carl’s place. “It can be me. Y-you can do it to me. I-I can go with- with you.”
“No.” He was immediately shut down. “This is the only way. Rick, pick up the axe.”
When he still didn’t move, Negan grew frustrated, his voice getting louder and more threatening. “Not making a decision is a big decision! You really want to see all these people die ? You will! You will see every ugly thing! Oh, my God, are you gonna make me count ? Okay, Rick! You win! I am counting!”
All you heard after that was white noise as the shock overwhelmed you, your brain desperately trying to block out what was about to happen. You watched as Rick’s face crumpled, Carl remaining stoic, nodding to his father to do it as he raised the hatchet high above his head, ready to bring it down and sever his son’s arm…
“Rick.” Negan stopped him just before the blade could descend, his expression amused and, finally, satisfied. “You answer to me . You provide for me . You belong to me . Right?” He paused, face darkening when the sheriff remained silent. “Speak when you’re spoken to! You answer to me. You provide for me.”
Rick was a quivering mess, barely able to form words, but he managed to murmur, “...provide for you.”
“You belong to me, right?”
“Right.”
“Right. That is the look I wanted to see. We did it, all of us, together, even the dead guys on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure. Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope, for all your sake that you get it now, that you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you, that is over now.’ He seemed to be wrapping things up, and you let out a sigh of relief at the thought that you could finally take a breath, process your losses, without the steely-eyed gaze of his soldiers focused on you.
“Dwight, load him up.” Negan pointed to Daryl, motioning for the scrawny blonde-haired minion to take him to the van.
“What?” you choked out, between the sobs that racked your body. “No!”
Dwight slid his hands under Daryl’s arms, dragging him upright, despite Daryl trying to jerk out of his grasp. He shoved him violently into the back of the vehicle, where a crossbow was immediately trained on him until the doors slammed shut.
“No!” The noise that erupted from you was a cross between a snarl and a scream, and Negan grinned down at you in your agony.
“Sorry, darlin’. He’s got guts, not a little bitch like someone I know.” He turned to Rick as he spoke, determined to get one last dig in before he left. “I like him. He’s mine now. But, you still want to try somethin’? ‘Not today, not tomorrow.’ I will cut pieces off of… The hell’s his name?”
“Daryl,” Simon supplied.
“Wow.” Negan chuckled. “That actually sounds right. I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep, or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me. Welcome to a brand-new beginning, you sorry shits!”
As his people began to disperse, moving towards their vehicles, he turned back to Rick. “I’m gonna leave you a truck. Keep it. Use it to cart all the crap you’re gonna find me. We’ll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then, ta-ta.”
You felt movement around you, knew it was over, that the trucks and bikes were pulling away, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the van that Daryl had been thrown into. As it roared to life and began to inch out of the clearing, you felt more tears spill over, the pain of losing him overwhelming. Where would they take him? Would they hurt him? What about his shoulder? He needed medical treatment, and soon. How were you supposed to do this without him? How were any of you supposed to do this? God, Maggie was pregnant. How was she supposed to raise her child without Glenn?
For a long time, none of you spoke, each lost in your own heads, your own grief, but then you heard Rick say Maggie’s name and saw that she was pushing herself to her feet, wobbling in her weak state. You moved immediately to her side, supporting her as she limped over to her husband’s body, feeling her knees give way and tightening your hold on her as she got closer.
“I’ve got you, Mags,” you assured her as she tensed up, about to fall. “I’ve got you.”
“Maggie, you need to sit down,” Rick told her, gently. “We need to get you to Hilltop.”
“No,” she objected, her gaze not leaving what was left of Glenn. “No, you need to go get ready.”
“For what?”
“To fight them.”
“They have Daryl,” Rick tried to reason with her. “They have an army. We would die, all of us.”
“Go home.” Maggie shuddered against you as her voice broke. “Take everybody with you. I can get there by myself.”
“Mags, you can’t-” you started to interject, but she silenced you with a fierce look.
“Maggie, you can barely stand.” Rick reached out to her, but she shrugged him off.
“I need to go. You need to go to Alexandria. You were ou-out here for me.”
“We still are.”
Her heavy breathing grew more erratic, and you could tell she was on the verge of breaking down again. “I can make it now. 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.”
“Maggie,” Michonne spoke up, her voice sure and calming. “We’re not letting you go, okay?”
“You have to.”
“It’s not gonna happen,” Rick spoke again, stepping back into his leadership role as his composure returned.
Sasha climbed to her feet, making her way over to you and stopping in front of her distressed friend. “I’m taking her. I’m gonna get her there. I’m gonna keep her safe. I’m not giving you a choice,” she added as Maggie began to protest.
“I’m taking him with me,” Maggie whispered to her. She grew heavier in your embrace, and you lowered her gently to the ground, so she could kneel beside Glenn, stepping back to give her some space. You turned to find Rick behind you, his eyes watery as they met yours, and you went into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder as you held each other.
“What are we gonna do, Rick? We can’t fight; we can’t live the way he’s expecting us to. What do we do now?”
He couldn’t give you any answers.