#hilltop road mentioned
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wisteria-aa · 1 year ago
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I’m normal (lie)
WHAT THE FUCK IM GOING CRAZY FROM THIS NEW EPISODE CELIA REALLY IS THE SAME CELIA CUZ WTF U MEAN YOURE SEARCHING FOR "MEAT AND BURIED" AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU RECOGNIZE CHESTER'S VOICE SHE REALLY IS THE SAME CELIA
AND ALSO THE DEAK WITH COLIN oh my guy knows whats up i respect him
also i just now realized. bouchard going for the main position. also theyre wealthy ? if i see lukas family mentioned here ill start a riot
AND WDYM U GOT AN EMAIL FROM "JOHN"??? WDYMM WDYMMM ARE THEY REALLY TRYING TO COMMUNICATE IM GOING CRAZY I ALMOST CRIED WHILE LISTENING
and also the way all the statements are a mix of all the fears... this one again !! all the weird people, giving weird ass things, THE BUILDING BEING SET ON FIRE !!! the suspicious guys in suit... literally things that somehow correlate to different things in tma... im going crazy
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that-sure-is-a-person · 1 year ago
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Me after listening to episode 7 of the Magnus protocol
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isagnesalive · 1 year ago
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TMagP 7
Is Agnes Montague alive?
Status: Unconfirmed
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urclna · 1 year ago
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JON MENTIONED
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aquietweirdo · 4 months ago
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First listen to: MAG 146 - Threshold
I remember in an earlier episode Gerard Keay mentioned that the fear entities don’t care about family or bloodlines. But clearly if you can feast on one person then it’s likely that their family members would also be susceptible to the fears. I feel bad for Marcus’s dad. I don’t remember his statement but I hope he and his son made up before they died.
I liked hearing about how the doors presented themselves over the years. Especially the last time that Marcus saw the door. It gave off a feeling of anger that wasn’t there in previous years. That had to have been Michael. After the Spiral merged with Michael Shelley it was filled with conflicting emotions had it wanted to be rid of. I like to think that Micheal had been searching for a replacement long before Helen came along.
Everyone keeps nagging Jon without offering any solutions. Except for Basira but to be honest if this Hilltop Road thing doesn’t work out I think she’s going to kill him. Here’s an idea, what if Jon just took statements from the archival assistants? This wouldn’t be a permanent solution and Melanie would never agree to it but it’s better than nothing. Since they’re employed by the Magnus Institute that means they won’t have horrible dreams even if they gave Jon more statements.
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Me after listening to that entire episode
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me when jon mention
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ceaselesswatchersspecialboy · 6 months ago
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I am now fully aware ‘An’ Archivist is likely referring to one of the many Archivists in TMA, and likely the ones guarding the Panopticon. I didn’t really register it at first because of the excitement and shock, but I think what has me more concerned, is that the older Archivists never looked like that?
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Which goes against Gwen’s description that implies ERROR has more eyes than a normal human would. Perhaps it simply varies for different Archivists, or perhaps the other eyes are hidden beneath its robe, but it’s still worth noting.
Not to mention the fact tape recorders are not a general Archivist thing. They’re a Jon thing (edit: was reminded Gertrude used tapes as well). A Web thing. So we have an Archivist, who presumably isn’t Jon, acting similarly to how he would in terms of recording statements, using tapes we know are interconnected with the Web and Hilltop road.
Something is off here.
And you know, it might not even be an Archivist from the TMA universe’s Panopticon, because why would it be trapped in the remains of the Magnus Institute. It could possibly be linked with their experiments regarding the gifted kids program, as that is an idea I’ve thrown around before, but right now there isn’t much evidence I can compile for that. It also wouldn’t explain the tape recorder, as of what we know now.
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hidtired · 10 months ago
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Hey, I love your stories for Daryl Dixon! If you wouldn’t mind I had a request? Daryl and reader have a pre established relationship (met at the querry, got together at the prison, got ‘married’ at some point) of a few years. During the line up, after Daryl hits Negan for killing Abraham, Negan can kind of figure out him and reader are together by matching wedding rings. To punish Daryl, negan can hang the reader until they ‘die’ (stop moving) and cuts her down. After Daryl is taken the group can realize, after being sad for a bit, that the reader is breathing and is alive and bring a her to hilltop. Negan could have put a bag over readers head or something before being hung so that once cut down its harder to tell she’s alive, and they could have even taken a picture of reader hung up to mess with Daryl in his cell. Dual POV. Extra extra angst, and happy ending/reunion when Daryl escapes please! If you could, could it be a few parts long? I understand if you can’t do that or even get to this request at all and that’s 100% okay! Anyways, love your story’s!
Someone cooked here... this is beautifully messed up. So right up my ally!
Hangman
(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist
Description: Y/N Dixon was to be punished for her husbands actions at the line up. Negan decided to do it in style. To have a rope looped for your neck, intended for your death. Daryl watches you hang before being dragged away. But you had still been alive by the time you were cut down.
2.1k words
Warnings (Mentions of suicide, gore, ANGST, violence, injury, ect.)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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You met Daryl and slowly fell in love with him. Most say they fell in love at first sight. But you? It was slowly then all at once. He was a gruff man, but under that was the most caring person you ever met. You had caught yourself thinking of him differently while on the road after the farm fell. You were friends at the farm, joking and teasing one another.
"You bein' sweet on me?"
You sniffle wiping a tear and punching him in the arm. He had gotten shot by Andrea and had fallin on a bolt while looking for Sophia. The punch hurt your redden knuckles. You had turned and laid Andrea out on the grass. Her cry's of "Did I kill him?!" Sent you to shut her mouth. Your lip wobble trying to not met him eye to eye. Daryl sighed, "Come on girl. No water works for me." He chuckled at the sight, amused to see you so worked up for his sake.
He learned you cared for him that day. He also learned how much he did when everyone was separated after the farm fell. He hugged you. More of shoved you into him practically about to lift you in the air.
“What? Getting sweet on me Dixon?”
It didn’t become romantic until the first night at the prison. Better know to Daryl as ‘THE kiss’. You had finally felt safe for the first time in a while, and you were thinking of him like crazy. So, when he was a little too close and looked down to your lips for a split second… you took action and ran with it. You had grabbed him with both hands and slowly lean into him. Didn’t last long, a peck— a test. He looked taken aback before it clicked and he was kissing you more. Now this moment was better known to you as ‘scarring T-dog’. He had gone to find both of you for dinner and found Daryl pinning you to a wall while making out.
The question of marriage wasn’t proposed as much talked about one late night months into the prisons development. You lay down legs tangled you smiling at him like a fool. The people of the prison loved Daryl. So when a new comer he saved reference to you as Mrs. Dixon it got you feeling a way. “M’ not sure I wanna ask what’s got you all giddy.” You rolled into him more, a dumb smile on your face, “You~”. He raised a brow at you. There were moments when you got all lovey, on him, normally when you were about to start your period. Or ovulating which was a different kind of lovey…
“What do you think about marriage?”
He was not expecting that. He froze thinking of his parents. “Never had a good example of it?” He just didn’t understand the purpose of it. What was to be married? More so with how the world is now. You lean your head against his chest, “I see it as just a promise. To promise myself to you.” He looked down to meet your eyes, “Thought ya were already mine?” You nodded with a smile, “Exactly, I’m already yours. But I would be caring your name as mine.” That is when it sank in, you a Dixon. The Dixons. Them. His hold on you became a little tighter. It would mean everything they already did. He knew the only death could part each other. Thats when you officially became his wife. Later with rings to match.
Till death do us part…
That lead you all to here and now. Face to face to death. Negan, finished with his brutal attack to Abraham. The remainder of what left of him desiccated. Negan swang the bloody bat splattering everyone with blood. His taunting made the hot head that is your husband try and attack him. He landed a crushing blow before getting pinned.
Your POV
It had happened so fast. Daryl was pinned with his own crossbow pointed at his head. The man holding it speaking, “I could end it right here.” You couldn’t even speak, you were shaking. Had a hand to your mouth trying to quiet your sobs. ‘Please don’t kill him… not him.’ Negan had noticed the ring on your finger and took a look to everyone’s face at that moment. He finally turned back to Daryl, “Nah, you don’t kill that. Not unless you try a little first.” A sick smile pulling his lips, “Put him back in line.” He eyed Daryl, “I don’t know what lying pricks you’ve been dealing with but I did say you only get one! No exceptions.” Negan leaned back before slowly turning to you and pointing, “Get her up.” You were swiftly pulled to your feet. Daryl’s voice booming in displeasure. Negan spoke again put to the group surrounding you, “We’ve never done this before! Simon… get the noose.” Some ooos rolled through the crowd.
Negan turned back to Rick. Daryl still wiggling free to help you. “See Rick I don’t like the look in your eye. Any of your eyes, you just don’t seem to get it!” It was Michonne voice urgent as she witnessed them set up the rope in a tree, “W-we get it. You don’t have to do that-“ Negans voice booming with amusement, “Oh I know you do but I did say no exceptions.” He turned his gaze to Daryl at the mention.
You were to be made as an example. To everyone but also for Daryl’s action. You couldn’t blame him for attacking him. He was a sick man doing horrendous things… and with a smile on top of it. You watched the rope go over a branch and someone put a wooden box down under the hanging rope.
You remember finding your Uncle hanging from a pipe in the garage. You were 8. The corners office stated he was hanging there for half a hour before he died, cause of death asphyxiation. The height he fell from didn't break his neck. The height of the box to the tree wasn’t high enough either.
Daryl was cursing and spitting threats as they dragged you to stand on the box. “I’LL KILL YOU, TOUCH HER AND I’LL KILL YOU!!!” But as the rope was looped around your head those threats turned to please, “No— PUNISH ME! IT WAS ME! NOT HER-“ He was crying and you looked on while he thrashed around. You smiled to him. You were scared sure, whether you were going to die fast or slow going through your mind.
Tears tracked down your face but you had stopped crying and had a look that could kill. Negan only seemed cheerful as always taking notice to your calming demeanor. You looked on to everyone on their knees as they stare at you with pure panic. You saw Rick’s hand shaking, mouth periodically opening to say something but he had nothing to say to get you out of this. Daryl had stopped thrashing and was looking to you with a face that pained you. He was pale from blood loss, eyes brimming with tears.
Your vision was blocked by a bag that was thrown over your head. You could slightly see through the fabric. Your heartbeat was in your ears. Negan had now come to stand next to you, “Now there is a new world order. You have shit I want so you give it to me or you could join— Hell her name?” You hear a savior state your name. “Ahh Y/N here… So let’s get this crystal clear for all of you now. You all belong to me.” He turned to you, “Any last words?”
You took a deep breath, “See you in hell.”
He chuckled. It was silent for a moment, air filled with anticipation. “Hope I don’t keep you waiting-“ He kicked that wooden box out from under you.
You felt gravity pulling you to the ground. Then the feeling of the rope tighten around your throat. Your ears picking up on the sounds of yelling and crying from your family. You had bobbed like a fish on a line. You put your hands to the rope on your neck. Struggling to breathe. Your body thrashing dangling from the tree. It wasn’t until you tilted your head back you got a little air. The noose didn’t seem to close all the way. Inside your mind yelled one thing, ‘go slack’. You slowly released your hands from the rope dangling with the rest of you. Soon after stopping any movement despite your body wanting to. You felt a pressure in the back of your eyes. The lack of sufficient oxygen making you feel like you were spinning. And the growing pain radiating around your neck was something you’ve never felt before. Like you were dying.
Negan had been talking throughout you struggling. But you hadn’t the mind to listen. It was Daryl’s sobs you recognized. He sounded like he was getting pulled away with the sounds of a heavy door slamming. A flash of light came through the bag on your head, click of a camera soon followed after. Negan talked again before you felt gravity pull you again. He had cut you down. You flopped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. You felt the wind get knocked out of you. Whatever wind you had left anyways. It took you a second before your first real breath came to you. But you try to remain still, to play possum.
You still remained there on the floor, yelling in your mind to stay awake. Coming up with anything to remain conscious like, math problems or names of your childhood pets. You had the feeling like you were on choppy water. Swaying back and forth on a boat. The deafening silence pulled you from your mind. Maybe you had died? But you decided you needed to move.
Group POV
Everyone was still after the saviors left. The first shuffling of gravel was Glenn moving to his wife after snapping out of the shock. His movement snapping everyone out of it to. Maggie clung to him while sobbing, emotionally and physically distressed. The sound of groaning and raspy noises made them all turn to you. It was Rick who spoke, “She turned…” You body propped up on hands and knees. They looked on before it was Carl moved to put you down, everyone else had even yet to move before him. Carl only got a few steps before you pulled the bag off your head.
Everyone froze again. Your fist clenching around the rope still around your neck. The chocking noises and tears sounds as you struggle with moving, “Holy shit she’s still alive!” Aaron had ran past Carl to then kneel beside you. Removing the rope from you revealed a line of black and purple around your neck. The rest had made their quick approach to you in disbelief. You were clawing at anyone next to you, you were in pain and didn't know who to act other then to wither. One hand still to your throat. Your eyes were blood red and the noise you made while attempting to breathe was high and liquidy.
Sasha had moved up behind you looping her arms behind yours, “Quick we need to get her to Hilltop! Maggie to!” Michonne moving for your legs to carry you to a truck the saviors left. Glenn helping Maggie into the passengers seat. Eugene began to list facts about being hanged like, 'it takes 10-20 minutes before a person died. You had been hung by a 'suspension hanging' but the height you fell from wasn't sufficient enough. The Saviors lack of knowledge had saved your life.' It was mostly a nervous habit to provide the information, a sort of coping. He was watching Rick and Aaron put Abraham's body in the back on the truck bed.
Maggie yelled to support your head to Sasha who you laid onto. You were still fighting unconscious, tears streaming down your red eyes. Glenn slipped into the drivers seat. Maggie speaking out the windows, "We got her. Get back to Alexandria. Plan to kick those monsters in the ass." Just like that they were off to hilltop.
The rest stood to see the car go off into the distance. Still shaken but the littlest bit more relieved you hadn't died in the worse way imageable in front of them. When they finally got back in the RV to go back home Rick just couldn't help but spot the noose on the ground from the review.
Daryl had no clue about you getting back up from that monstrous act.
Part 2
Feedback welcome and requests always open and encouraged!
(If you or a loved one are suffering and having thoughts of suicide please seek help. You are wanted and loved. Its cheesy but true when people say it gets better.)
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guys why does jonny never mention cambridge. like correct me if i'm wrong but it's always fucking oxford. jon and georgie went to oxford. hilltop road is in oxford. sam got rejected from oxford. that weird thing happened with the oxford people's trust in that one case. like what's wrong with cambridge. why can't cambridge house the horrors. what does jonny have against cambridge. like i'm not salty i don't care i just wanna know what the fuck is so inadequate about cambridge jonny liKe wHaT—
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topazy · 4 months ago
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Teen spirit
Pairing: Carl Grimes x reader
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood
Chapter: 6.07
You silently prayed, holding onto the silver cross Carl gave you while Maggie slept in the bed in the RV. She was in so much pain, and eventually exhaustion had taken over her. The thought of losing her terrified you.
Rick crouches down beside you and gently squeezes your shoulder. “Do you remember the night at the prison when the gate fell down and the walkers got through; it was at the same time everyone was sick with the flu?”
You wipe at your eyes, which now feel sticky with tears. “Yeah?”
“Me, you, and Carl stopped the horde from getting to the people we love.”
“I don’t understand,” you admit.
“You needed to be brave that night, just as you have so many other times. When you shot Ron... Maggie needs you to be brave now.”
“I’m scared I’m going to lose her.”
“I know, but the doctor in Hilltop will take good care of her.” Rick lowers his voice. “It’s not just your sister that needs you; Carl does as well. He’s trying to be strong, but everything that’s happened since we arrived in Alexandria... I know he’s struggling.”
You turn your head and nod, “Okay.”
Rick kisses your forehead and goes to join Sasha, Abraham, Eugene, Aaron, and Carl at the front of the RV, but just as he does, the campervan comes to a sudden halt.
“What’s going on?”
“Enemy close,” Abraham says calmly.
You stand up to look out of the front window to see a group of men with guns standing around a man who is laying on the road who looks as if he’s had a bad beating.
Rick goes to open the door, but pauses and hands you a gun first. “YN, stay here with Maggie. The rest of you are with me.”
You crouch down, trying to keep out of view while watching. It’s hard for you to hear everything that’s being said, but Rick and the other man in charge have a standoff, but surprisingly no bullets are fired.
Carl tilts the blinds to look out of the window, watching as Walker stumbles through the field next to the road. He closes the blinds and looks at Aaron, “Why didn’t you stay back and defend the place?”
You were sitting further up the RV at a small table with Eugene trying to help him look for another route to Hilltop from your current position, but you still had a view of the bed your sister was in, including those sitting next to her.
“I owe her,” Aaron answers, looking at Maggie. “Why did you come?”
“I owe them, plus I need to keep Y/N safe.”
You start to grow nervous when Eugene stops mumbling to himself; you’re afraid there is no other route, and the only other options are to return home and hope for the best, or fight with the men from the saviors and hope for the best. But Eugene finally breaks his silence. “I think I’ve got something.”
“Do you think you could do it?” Abraham asks as he drives the RV along the new route. It was only the two of you sitting up the front, so you weren’t sure where the conversation was coming from since you’d been sitting in silence.
“Do what?”
“Do what Maggie and Glenn did with Carl?”
You laugh at his words, “I’m too young to think about marriage and babies.”
“I may have agreed with you at one point, but now in this new world?” He sees the expression on your face and chuckles to himself, “I’m not saying you get Gabriel to perform a ceremony the moment we go home, but if what you have is special, then never let it go. No matter how old you are.”
You knew Abraham was just trying to distract you from being upset, but you did appreciate it. “The last thing anybody needs is a drunk behind the wheel.”
“You always had a smart mouth on ya, I was starting to miss hearing your shit talk.”
Growing up the way you did, your mother and father always drilled it into you to be polite, respectful, and never swear, and even during the apocalypse, you were afraid something bad would happen if you did. “My daddy would have said you were a bad influence.”
“That’s funny because Glenn said the exact same thing to me last week.” He clears his throat. “Tell you what? Once this is all done and dusted, I’ll teach you how to drive properly so the next time I’m drunk driving, you can take over.”
“Deal.”
A few more moments of silence pass until Abraham turns the corner and you see another group of men with guns blocking the road, “bitch nuts. Y/N, don’t get too close to the window.”
Everyone gathers to stare at the men; you gulp down. If they decided to attack now, it wouldn’t take long for all of you to be dead. Unless Abraham managed to speed away, then our group would easily be overpowered.
“Do we make a stand?” Sasha asks.
“Yeah,” Carl looks at his dad. “We end it.”
“No, we can’t. This is a trap; the moment we step out of the RV, we are dead.”
“With one of us behind a wheel that’s five on sixteen,” Rick adds. “We’re gonna play it our way, how we want.”
Abraham slowly backs the RV up, and when he doesn't, one of the men starts firing into the sky, causing you to flinch, feeling as scared as you did when the men ambushed you, Daryl, Rosita, and Denise.
You start to feel yourself panic, but a hand reaches out and holds onto your wrist. Carl keeps hold of you until you’re far enough away that the gunshots start to fade into the distance.
“Wait, dad, something's not right.”
The saviors were now toying with your group and had set traps up blocking the different roads. They had a row of walkers chained together blocking the road, but it wasn’t until now that you noticed what Carl was so freaked out about.
“Oh my god, that’s Daryl’s.”
One of the walkers had a piece of Michonne attached to the side of its head; the others had clothing that belonged to other members of your group.
Rick goes to stab one of the walkers in the head, but men appear on either side of the road and begin firing at you.
“Everyone into the RV now!”
Carl and Sasha cover Rick while he breaks the blockade of walkers by cutting off their arms, making space for Abraham to drive through. Once you make it back onto the RV, you immediately go to Maggie’s side and notice how much worse she looks.
You place your hand on Maggie’s forehead. “She’s burning up.”
“She’s going to make it,” Carl says, trying to reassure you.
“The Saviors are messing with us for fun. They’ve made sure we know they have our people; they aren’t afraid of walkers, but yet they aren’t killing us.” Each time Abraham drove so far up another road, there would be another blockage preventing you from going any further. They even hung a man and set fire to one of the blockades in front of you. “These people aren’t scared of anything.”
Seeing Maggie start to stir, you take hold of her hand. “Hey, it’s fine. It’s going to be okay.”
“I heard gunshots.”
“It was the Saviors, but it’s fine now.”
The odds were staking up against you, but Eugene came through with a plan. The saviors were waiting to see the RV appearing on the road, so if you waited until nightfall, you would have a better chance of traveling on foot without being seen while he still drives the RV to make them think your group was still on the road.
“Maggie, we are going to get you to the doctor soon,” you smile. “You and baby will be okay.”
Her skin was pale and sweaty, and you didn’t actually believe what you were saying. You had a feeling something terrible was about to happen.
After making a stretcher out of what you could find in the RV, all of you aside from Eugene start to go through the woods. Maggie, being her stubborn self, insisted she walk to Hilltop, but it wasn’t going to happen. You and Carl take out the walkers that get too close while the remaining four people take a corner of the stretcher.
You’re unsure of how long you’ve been walking for when you notice something shining on the ground. “Wait up,” you whisper, bending down to inspect the familiar jewelry. You pick it up but then quickly toss it, feeling the wetness on it. “Rick, Rick.”
He looks over at you with a panicked look in his eyes. “What is it?”
“We need to go back.” You hold up your hand so he can see the blood on it. “Rosita’s earrings; she was wearing them when she left Alexandria—”
Before you can say anything else, you are cut off by multiple people whistling. This whole thing was a trap, even the way the jewelry was laid out was so easy to find. The Saviors just wanted to torment as many people as they could.
“Go! Go!”
You take off running through the woods until a bright light blinds you, and you’re suddenly surrounded by saviors and different vehicles, making it impossible to run away from them. All of them were whistling.
Holding your gun, you stand with your back to Maggie, prepared to shoot anyone who tries to hurt her.
The man called Simon, who Rick spoke with earlier, appears and points his gun at Carl, ordering all of you to hand over your weapons. This was the first time you’d ever seen Rick look terrified, and that’s how you knew you were screwed.
“Y/N,” Carl’s face turns pale as he notices the blood soaking through your shirt.
“I know.”
Between running and being forced down onto your knees by the saviors, the stitches from your stab wound had pulled, and your wound was now bleeding.
“Hey, hey,” Abraham gets your attention. “Show them no goddamn fear.”
You wanted to be brave like them, but you weren’t. You felt completely helpless while you watched them force Maggie onto her knees.
A van door is opened, and Michonne, Rosita, Glenn, and Daryl are dragged from it, then forced onto the ground beside the rest of you. Simon gleefully knocks on the RV door, “Alright, let’s meet the man.”
Through teary eyes, you meet Carl’s gaze. The two of you were on opposite ends of the line-up. You were now kneeling on the ground between Glenn and Rosita.
The door opens, and a dark-haired man with a wide grin walks out, “Pissing our pants yet?”
Satan in a Sunday hat.
“Boy, so I gave a feeling we’re getting close.” The man walks back and forth along the line, sizing everyone up while holding a wooden basketball bat that had barbed wire wrapped around it. “It’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Which one you pricks is the leader?”
“It’s this one,” Simon points to Rick. “He’s the guy.”
The man sighs, “Hi, you’re Rick, right? I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people. Not cool. Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Yeah. You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes.”
You silently start to pray again, taking hold of the small silver cross between your fingers.
“You see, stick to whatever you do; no matter what, you don’t mess with the new world order. And 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. Are you ready? Here goes, pay attention.” He points his bat in Rick's face, “Give me your shit, or I will kill you. Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit; you give it to me. That’s your job.”
While Negan continues to taunt your group, your eyes move along every single person who you know is considered family. Everyone was crying and shaking aside from Abraham and Carl.
Negan keeps repeating that he wants half your group's supplies, but that wouldn’t be enough.
“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. Understand?” Negan mockingly puts his hand up to his ear, “What, no answer?”
Negan reminds you of the governor.
“You don’t really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished, now did you?” Negan shakes his head. “I don’t wanna kill you people. Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me.”
Just like the governor wanted you all the live together at one point.
“You can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you? I’m not growing a garden, but you killed my people—a whole damn lot of them. More than I’m comfortable with. And for that—for that you’re going to pay.”
An eye for an eye.
“So now, I’m gonna beat the holy hell out of one of you.”
The crazy bastard introduces his baseball bat as Lucille, Negan is crazy. He stands in front of Abraham and seems amused when Abraham holds his gaze and rises up on his knees. Chucking Negan moves down the line and points at Carl, “You had one of our guns.”
Carl says nothing.
Negan crouches in front of him. “You got a lot of our guns. Shit, kid, lighten up. At least cry a little.”
He starts to walk back up the line and stops in front of Maggie. “Jesus, you look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery.”
The second Negan lifts the bat up, both you and Glenn yell for him to stop. Glenn tries to reach Maggie but is pinned down to the ground by a savior.
“Nope. Nope, get him back in line,” Negan says, sounding like an unimpressed parent. “Don’t any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down, no exceptions. First ones free; it’s an emotional moment; I get it.”
You press your palm against your side in a poor attempt to stop it hurting so much, which Negan notices. He laughs, “Jesus Rick, you could have at least made it harder for me. Half your camp looks as if it’s dying off already.”
You want to cry but don’t allow yourself to, not anymore. Giving Negan the satisfaction would be more painful than the wound itself. He points to your side with his bad, “What the hell happened to you?”
“One of your men stabbed me.”
“One of my men stabbed you? A kid?” He kneels down with a smirk on his face. “So you know I have men that can and will fight for me. What does that tell you?”
“It tells me you have men who take the easy option and stab a little girl rather than actually putting up a real fight.”
His smile disappears. Negan just stares at you for a few moments until he suddenly stands and looks back over at Carl, who was glaring at him. “I’ve been trying to put two and two together, but I think I now get it; this is your little girlfriend.” He turns back to look at Rick, “And this must be your kid; you have a similar evil eye.”
“That’s enough!”
“Do not make me kill the little future serial killer; don’t make it easy on me. I gotta pick somebody, and everybody is at the table waiting for their order.”
Negan starts whistling while trying to decide who to kill.
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lunarhorrors · 6 months ago
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hilltop road mention. You Know What That Means!!!!!!! manifesting agnes montague returning . i need this so bad. no one understands
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the-fiction-witch · 6 months ago
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Rescue
Media - Rings Of Power Character - Elrond Couple - Elrond X Reader Reader - Y/n (Elf Wife) Rating - 18 + Word Count - 1241
WARNING! SA / MENTIONS OF SA/ ABUSE/
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The road had been long and difficult. But Elrond knew he couldn't give up.
While travelling to visit other elves, their travelling party was ambushed by orcs several died in the fight but some were captured, One of those captured was Elronds own wife, Y/n. The orcs carried her away with them and ever since Elrond had been stalking them desperate to save her. Elrond knew the horrific things orcs do to captured female elves. They torment them. Torture them. degrade them. And rape them to use as breeding slaves. And once they are out of use for them, they'll eat their flesh and leave them half dead. And Elrond knew that was not a fate he could allow Y/n to have.
But the days grew long, and he began to fear that he would never see her again, He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat and he couldn't think of anything except saving her. No matter what he did hellish screams echoed in his ears, as if from miles away he could hear her fear and he prayed to all the gods of this world that she had only fear to cause her screams… And nothing worse.
he reached a hilltop and stopped to look across the moors, and even in the darkness, he saw them. The band of orcs walked towards the rocks, shuffling about the way orcs often did. And at the back of the pack, two of the four elves were captured from their party both of the women of course.
He saw Y/n and he felt a rage build inside him. She was stripped of her gown wearing only tattered rags to conceal her, forced to all barefoot on the rocks, her feet and body bleeding, rope around her wrists and her neck leading her forward with the orcs, her cheeks stained with tears. She tried to resist them but one orc slapped her across the face almost knocking her to the floor, before grabbing her chest to fondle while she screamed and he laughed at her fear,
Elrond watched as the orcs dragged Y/n along, his anger reaching a boiling point. Every fiber of his being ached with the desire to run down and grab her. The sight of them touching her and causing her pain was almost to much for him to bear. He had to force himself stand still and control his impulses. He wanted to jump down from the hills and run towards them, to grab her and take her away from this hellish nightmare. He wanted to kill every single orc that had touched her and make them suffer for what they had done to her,
His heart was beating faster than ever and his eyes were fixed on her. He couldn't stand to see her in harms way like this. Even her tears were too much for him. This was the woman he loved more than anything in the world and she was suffering at the hands of these monsters. He followed them at a safe distance until they made camp for the coming dawn hiding away in a low mountain cave. They set up their camp and let the prisoners linger outside,
Elrond kept himself hidden, taking note of every aspect of the camp. The cave, the orcs, the guards outside. He needed to find a way to save her. He had to. But the sight of her outside the cave was almost to much for him. He was just a few meters away and yet he felt like a world separated them. He wanted nothing more then to run towards her and hold her but he knew it was too dangerous, he had to bide his time till an oppourtunity came up,
the orcs began to hide away as the sun was set to rise but one large orc came out and looked over the captured prisoners He walked among them, sniffling them, touching them, to select whichever would be the victim of 'the pile'
The pile was a common torment orcs inflicted on female elves, they'd be stripped and tossed to a group no smaller than five, and they'd grab her limbs and take turns to violently rape her piling on her so she had no escape or resistance, they’d grope her, tickle her, humiliate and degrade her in whatever way they could
“That's not going to happen, I swear it. I won't let it” he thought to himself as he looked at the orc. His mind was racing trying to think of a way to save her before it was too late.
"This one." The orc demanded as he picked out the victim. It was Y/n
"No! No! Noo let me go!" She screamed
He watched as the orc picked Y/n. Rage and terror building up inside of him like never before. He couldn't let this happen he had to do something, There was no way he was going to let them hurt her. His heart was racing faster than ever as he frantically tried to think of a plan to stop them without alerting the orcs to his presence. This was the moment, if he didn't save her now he may never get another chance He knew that if he failed it could mean death for them both. But he was willing to risk it all. For her.
he picked up a rock and tossed it over to the other side of the pass, which caught the orcs attention, he grabbed a knife tossing Opheila to the floor before going to investigate leaving her and the other prisoners unattended,
He moved carefully as to not alert the other orcs to his presence and silently stepped towards where Y/n was lying on the ground His heart was in his mouth as he approached her.
She looked up at him and for a moment her eyes widened in disbelief, he could see the pain and fear she had endured in them, but as soon as she saw him a flicker of hope seemed to light them up. she began to silently cry tears of joy to see him, and she quickly moved to her feet, craning her head and holding up her arms so he could cut her binds
He gently began to cut through the ropes binding her with the swiftness of a practised hand. As soon as he removed the ropes he immediately pulled her into an embrace, holding her tight against him. He felt like he could finally breathe again now that she was in his arms. He never wanted to let her go
"Please…we have to get out of here…" she whispered her voice shaking from her broken and bruised lips
He nodded, knowing she was right. Time was running out, he couldn't afford to linger here and risk one of the Orcs coming back. Elrond helped to release the other prisoners letting them go free and he turned back to his beloved Y/n. He held her closer, his arm around her waist as he started backing away towards the mouth of the mountain pass. "Come on, we need to go. Can you run?"
she nodded "For you I can."
He smiled slightly at her response and placed a kiss on the top of her head. He was glad to see that her fighting spirit hadn't been broken even by the worst of torments. "Stay close to me, I'll keep you safe." He took her hand in his and they quickly made their escape into the night.
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lianasyappingsession · 3 months ago
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𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗜𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗧𝗶𝗺𝗲.
˚ ༘♡Carl Grimes x reader
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"there's only one thing more precious than our time and that's who we spend it on"
cw: teen angst, mention of canon-violence & death, reader is Negan's "kid", swearing, slightly angst inner monologue, etc. tropes:enemies to lovers, slow-burn, found family summary: you have been with the saviors for years, so how did one line-up, no, one boy, change the way you see this ruined world? a/n: the timeline of canon twd events is sorta out of order, it's been awhile since i watched s7 when daryl was held by negan so everything is completely by memory yet the point still stands. hopefully this makes sense. not proof-read.
You shouldn't be doing this. What you were doing went completely against everything you've been taught. Everything. It was early morning. Maybe around six or seven. You don't exactly know. The one thing you do know is that Negan won't be around for a few hours as he's got a ton of shit to handle. Even though it was early morning you had been up for hours thinking.
Thinking about your current life. Thinking about how those around you treat each other. So cruel. Thinking about the way Negan, your mentor, treats you. Thinking about those people at the most recent line-up a few weeks ago.
About how awful all the blood and sounds of muffled cries were. About how you sat there on the uncomfortable gravel road and did nothing but watch the way Negan treated them, the same as the other two groups. It was the same yet arguably worse than Hilltop or the Kingdom. At the time it happened it didn't really matter to you. "Typical fools who messed with the wrong people" You thought. You thought that because that's what you were believed to think. Everyone wants to believe that they're the good guy. We're not. Nobody really is. You remember glancing at the pale, long-haired teen and seeing how his un-intimidated look turned into the look of a scared teen. At that moment you realized that he was no different from you. You guys may have been on opposite sides but you were both on opposite sides of the same coin. You can't describe it, but seeing him in that vulnerable state for those few seconds did something to you. It's like reality just smacked the hell out of you. And then a few days later when Negan and the Saviors went to go claim their stuff you were face-to-face with that teen again. By then you had learned his name, Carl, he was the son of their leader. You could see the resemblance. Hell, you could see a whole lot more than just the family relation Carl had with Rick, you saw this young teenage boy as a person. Carl was a person. A human. He was a kid. Just. Like. Yourself. The feeling was insufferable. Seriously. It made you sick. Up until seeing Carl you hadn't seen another teenager your age. You felt as if you were alone in his cruel and unforgiving world. But you weren't. Not anymore. Sure, you two haven't spoken a single word to one another, (unless you count the time you explained to him what a "south-paw" was right before Negan almost made his own father cut his arm off), but you've watched how he interacted with his people. His family. Those were his people. The people he trusted the most.
And perhaps it was simply because you hadn't really seen how the Hilltop people lived, nor the Kingdom folks, but being exposed to this much genuine love made you feel... off. It made you feel weird. You hadn't seen people actually care for one another in years since your dad died. Your dad died towards the beginning of when the world went to shit. It was just you two, then your scared and small world became a little bigger once your dad met and started to work for Negan. Your dad died a few months in yet Negan kept you around. You were like, thirteen, so obviously he's not THAT cruel. He kept you under this wing, made sure you ate and got treated well. He was, in a weird way, your father. Eventually your world became even bigger once the small communities like Hilltop and the Kingdom got introduced. You thought this would be an opportunity for a bigger safe space, more faces, new people, new stories, etc. But it wasn't. It wasn't and after a few years of no social interaction with kids your own age it took a toll on you. Maybe it wouldn't have been so, so bad if Negan had been around more but he had "important" stuff to handle. He always did. You felt alone. This feeling of loneliness and the regret of hurting people was too much. You realized you didn't want people to fear you. Fear was not the way to get respect, respect had to be earned. Trust had to be earned. Relations were never going to form if you kept on like this. All of this is exactly why you are where you are currently. On the south side of the huge Sanctuary you quietly and quickly wandered the halls and searched for the holding cell. The cell that the man, Daryl, was currently held in. You had to ask one of Negan's "wives", Sherry, for some info. It took some time but Sherry had always been sweet to you so she eventually caved in. You eventually start to hear a faint sound of a somewhat familiar song, Easy Street, playing in this certain hallway. As you got closer so did the music. You eventually found the source of the sound, a small radio, sitting on the outside of a large metal door. You reached down and lowered the music a little in order to hear your own thoughts. Should I really do this? Maybe I shouldn't.. No, No, we're already here. Sherry already knows. I have to do this. I have to.
You slowly unlocked the door and pulled the chain off. You waited a few moments and glanced at the clock, 7:02. "Good. Right on time for the guards to be on the east side of the building." You think. Gosh, you hoped this worked. You slowly start to pull the heavy metal door open. It was pinch blackness in the small room. A little cold as well. Peeking inside you see the color of an orange shirt and pants in the corner. A man. Daryl. "Um... hi." You sound super unsure. Almost as if you stumbled into the wrong room. "Look, uh, you don't have a lot of time. You can go out the south side of the building, today's Thursday I think so the guards shouldn't be on this side. You should be able to leave.." You quickly explain.
He stares at you for a few moments then speaks quietly. "Yer his kid, huh?" You nod slowly. "Yeah, but uh, that's not important right now. You need to leave. And whoops, it's a shame someone forgot to lock this door.." I say nonchalantly. I leave the door cracked slightly and bend down to turn the music back up a little. Right before I do I glance at you, "Good luck, you're gonna need it."
Once you're sure the door won't close you back up and then quickly turn on your heel and book it down the hallway. The sound of the music covers up the sound of your loud leather books hitting the floor tiles. You actually did it. For real.
You didn't feel as terrified as you thought you would. No. You felt slightly proud..? Whatever this feeling was it felt good. You ran down the halls and eventually made it to a staircase. You stopped to catch your breath. You knew someone was going to get in trouble for your random act of kindness but you didn't care. Fuck it. Fuck it all. You were no longer a scared little kid. You knew right from wrong and everything the Saviors have been doing is wrong, so wrong. You were getting out of here. Today. Now. You were going to choose your own life. Be the person you wish to be. More importantly, you were going to see Carl again. See Carl and this time properly talk to him. Prove that you were nothing like your da- Negan. Nothing. You were a little nervous now that the adrenaline was slowing down but for the first time in years you felt a small sense of hope. You felt good. You finally got the courage to be your own person. You were your own person and you hope that maybe the people in Alexandria would understand that. You needed them too. Not just Carl but Rick, Michonne, Maggie, all of them. And you were going to prove it. If it was the last thing you do, that would be it. So, did you really uproot your life of safety and disobey your "people" in order to free some random guy? Yes. At least that's what you tried to convince yourself that was the reason. It was totally that and not because deep-down you secretly found the young teenage boy cute. Totally not. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
p.s: this is my first time writing something like this so hopefully it's good! may or may not make this isn't a multiple part series so yaaa idk
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moonlightmagical · 1 year ago
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so. tmagp 7.
it cannot be a coincidence that as SOON as celia starts talking about things very obviously from the tma universe, chester/jon starts speaking up.
i refuse to believe that it's a coincidence that after celia mentions looking for case files related to "being buried alive," a clear reference to The Buried, chester/jon starts reading a case file that is overtly what he (and we for that matter) would classify as a Buried statement.
not only is the case file chester/jon reads one of the most classically statement-like ones we have so far, given that there is only one fear and it is easily identifiable (other than episode 5 of course - voyeur is clearly an eye reference, ALSO read by chester/jon i'd point out), it is FILLED with other tma references. hilltop centre vs hill top road for one. as the case file describes, hilltop centre is burned down just like the original house on hill top road. also, a bunch of creepy objects being brought to one place certainly sounds like artifact storage doesn't it?
it is also an account written directly by the survivor of a supernatural encounter, something once again classically tma statement-like. the only other case file like that is technically episode 4 with the haunted violin - and who was that one read out by again? augustus? the one who is commonly theorized to be jonah? the founder of the magnus institute and the one who presumably chose the format of statements? a conversation for another time.
NOT TO MENTION:
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YOU GOT AN EMAIL FROM 'JOHN' SAM? YOU SURE THE H IS NECESSARY?
this is jon (or at least some part of him) reaching and clawing for the first indication of someone else from his home in this new reality. this is jon trying to get to the only person he has access to that seems to be curious enough to question what the hell is going on. this has to be jon.
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xsolaresx · 9 months ago
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daryl dixon.: love goes through the fire
pairings: daryl dixon x fem! reader wife!
summary: after being kidnapped and tortured by Negan, the reader does everything she can to make Daryl feel better.
warnings: angst! sad! graphic description of Glenn and Abraham's death! mention of torture! only depression from here on!
word count: 3,9k
Author @xsolaresx  
notes: English is not my first language, so there may be some grammatical errors.
ps.: if you want to translate any of my work, please send me a message and we'll talk about it.
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The noise still bothered me every night. Whenever my eyes closed, even for just a second, the sound of the bat repeatedly hitting Abraham's skull and then Glenn's tormented me. 
One hit after another, and at the end Negan's diabolical laughter. 
I could still feel Glenn's blood dripping down to my knees, I was so close to him that after it was over I was covered in his blood and the scraps of skin that flew off. No matter how many baths I forced myself to take, that sticky feeling of fresh blood never left my skin. And sometimes I still found a patch of my skin with a crimson tinge impregnated in it. 
My dark circles told anyone who saw me that I hadn't slept for days. I kept reliving the moment like an endless loop in my head. I still remember how that day began, that week, that month, how the whole situation ended the way it did. 
Hilltop had enemies, and Alexandria needed food. One thing led to another. 
First the massacre at the outpost, then the kidnapping of Carol and Maggie. Everyone had questions about whether it was the right thing to do, whether killing so many people was worth it, whether it was worth seeing another sunrise under so much blood. 
But Carol felt more, the deaths she had caused were beyond counting on her hands. We all kill to survive, but she was molded in this world, she wasn't raised with Rick's hero instinct, or the strength that the trauma and torture that Daryl suffered at the hands of his father and brother did to him. It was too much for her, she couldn't look us in the eye anymore, so she ran away from everything and everyone. 
There was no concrete reason for so many deaths, they were evil, weren't they? They killed people, and they die at the hands of our people. We did what had to be done. We saved a community from the so-called Saviors, but it couldn't have been that easy, there were more of them, there always would be. 
Daryl had to see it first hand. Denise died in front of him by her crossbow. It made him furious, we saved Dwight in the burning bush, helped him and his wife only for him to do something terrible in the end. Daryl had shown them a way, but they couldn't believe that was salvation.
He had to go back there, he had to finish what he didn't finish. He thought it was his fault that Tara no longer had a girlfriend. If only I could have stopped him before...
Everything happened so fast, Maggie got sick, we had to get her to Hilltop. I thought I'd meet Daryl at night, in our room, I'd arrive and he'd be waiting for me, he'd apologize for leaving unannounced, we'd talk and make things right, and then we'd sleep together and have a new day. 
But that day never came. 
They surrounded us on the road, left us with no way out and took us exactly where they wanted us. The frightening whistles were the prelude to something much worse to come. After that I only remember seeing Daryl shot and bleeding being dragged to the wheel, Abraham offering himself up and dying by the bat. 
Little by little I saw the terror forming in Rick's eyes. In all the years I've been with him leading this group, this was the first time I'd seen the elder Grimes lost, with no way out and praying that this madman wouldn't take someone else from our family. 
But Dixon got angry, he tried to get to Negan. And the next thing I knew, the bat with the barbed wire was next to my face. Daryl screamed so much, screamed, cried. 
"It's all right, my love. I love you, it wasn't your fault” I could only look at him, knowing that he would be the last thing I saw before I left calmed me down. 
Negan started smiling and swinging his baseball bat between the two of us. "What the fuck! Let's see what we've got here, guys."  
“P-please... no-no” 
“You'd better shut the fuck up, Rick! Or your dear son's next.” Negan shouted when Grimes tried to intervene, he knew that if I died Daryl would never be the same. "So you're a couple? Dwight's best friend has a wife? hohoho this just gets more interesting!"
“If you lay a finger on her I'll kill you, you bastard!” Daryl wasn't the type to take a beating quietly, even though he was losing blood and had a gun to his head he was going to try and fight back.
“Ah, but I'll remember that very well, dear Daryl... You know what... I'm tired of all this, why don't we just get it over with, huh?” The next thing I saw was blood gushing everywhere. One second I had Glenn, my best friend, the person who had saved me in so many ways by my side, and the next I had a lifeless body. 
Daryl was taken away that night, as a guarantee that we would stay on the line. And only God knows what happened to him during those days.
I couldn't bear to see him so bruised and dirty the first time the Saviors came to Alexandria. That wasn't my Daryl anymore, he looked so fragile, wounded, defeated. He was no longer the survivor who could take it all.
“No! He's my servant now, you don't talk to him, you don't look at him, and I don't make you cut off any part of his body.” Negan shouted when Rick tried to talk to Dixon. “And that goes for everyone, even his wife, understand?” I couldn't walk away, I needed to hug Daryl, tell him that everything was going to be okay and that I was there, but I couldn't risk someone else in our family, so I just turned and walked to our house, mine and Daryl's, unable to hold back the tears any longer. The last thing I heard was Negan's shrill laughter. “That one knows how to take orders, Rick!”
A few days had passed since then, we hadn't heard from Daryl, Maggie was hiding in Hilltop, which was under threat from the Saviors. Rick went out every day in search of supplies for the Saviors, and I... couldn't leave the house. I couldn't leave the room, the bed where I could still smell Daryl.
Frantic knocks started at my door, and when I opened it, I saw Gabriel. "He's back, Y/N. He hasn't done anything yet, but he's back with Carl, they're at Rick's now and he's not back from his run with Aaron yet. I-I don't, we don't know what to do, Judith is there with them and..."
"Gabriel, breathe. It's okay.” I held the priest by the shoulders, trying to calm him down. Everyone was lost, scared. “Tell everyone to stay in their homes, they mustn't have come for anything else, so don't provoke them, okay?” 
“But Judith... I... I promised Rick I'd look after her...” 
“I'll go, okay?” I grabbed my sweater and left the house in the direction of Rick's. If Carl is back with Negan, it means that the boy went after him planning some revenge. He's so young, but he harbors so much anger, he's lost so much to this world. 
“Hold it right there, cutie,” one of Negan's henchmen stopped me on the front steps of the house. 
“I want to talk to him.”
“You can let her through, let's hear what the wife has to say” I stared at the man until he got out of my way. I was angry, the way he called me 'wife' only reminded me that every day Daryl was in prison, being tortured by him. “Hello, my dear, to what do I owe your presence in my humble abode?” Negan was sitting on the balcony with Judith on his lap asleep, Carl was next to him without the bandage on his eye with a sad and angry expression. I completely ignored the killer and turned to the boy.
“Are you all right, Carl?”
“Yeah. I'm fine, he didn't do anything,” he replied, lowering his head. I turned to Negan, who didn't look the least bit happy at being ignored. 
“I want to see him.”
“You're going to have to be more specific, sweetheart.”
"I want to see my husband, see if he's alive. You can search me, I don't have any weapons after you took them all. Take me with you to him." A devilish smile appeared on his face. 
“You know, I can see that you don't look so good after I took your man, but I don't know if I was very clear when I said that he's now my servant, maybe you won't like what you see, your husband isn't the most sociable.”
"I know he's not, but I've seen worse. I need to see him alive, it's okay if he's dirty." 
"Ah girl, you're a tough nut to crack. But I understand, I can't go too many days without seeing my wives, Carl here has met some of them and he can tell you how hot they are! Tell you what, I'll talk to Rick, we'll settle up and if I'm still in a good mood you can come with me." 
“Thanks”
“Oh how I like that word, thank you.” Then Spencer arrived, started his plan to take Rick out and ended up dying. Eugene was going to be taken away for making the bullet. 
“You're gonna take me, right?” I shouted as Negan neared the gate, about to leave. 
"Y/N... what? No." Rick tried to approach but I moved away, I needed to see Daryl.
“I almost forgot the wife, search her, you're coming with me in the truck”
I kept quiet the whole way, blindfolded, the truck had three seats, the driver was some kind of savior who kept quiet and Negan made me stay in the middle of them in case I decided to jump out during the journey. 
“I told them to give your husband a bath, you know, to make him look more presentable, but no intimate visits, I don't want him to get too comfortable with all this” Negan said when we stopped in front of a room. “I also took him out of his cell, that's no place for a lady like you, my love���. When the door opened I saw Daryl in the corner of the room, a little cleaner, but cowering in the dark with an angry look on his face, but when he saw me he turned away from the wall in anguish. Dwight was in the other corner, standing guard. “I thought you guys would be more comfortable with an acquaintance on guard.”
“Not the best, but thanks,” I said between my teeth, looking at Dwight, who couldn't take his eyes off Daryl.
"What the fuck, baby! If you thank me one more time I won't be able to let you go, you've become my favorite." Then he left, closing the door. I ran over to Dixon, throwing myself into his arms, but he didn't return the hug, still focused on the other man in the room. 
"No, no, please, look at me, darling. Don't focus on him, focus on me, please.” I ran my hands over his face and turned him towards me, tears starting to well up in my eyes when I saw the bandage on his shoulder where he had been shot. “I missed you so much, are you okay?”
“I don't think he's going to say much, he probably doesn't even remember how he does it, does he Daryl?” 
"Shut the fuck up Dwight! If you don't I'll come over there and smash your face in” I turned to him who just laughed weakly and left the room. 
“You have to get out of here, you can't stay, I can't protect you... them... them” his voice was broken, as if he hadn't spoken for days. 
“Shiii, it's okay, I just came to see you, he's taking me back, we made a deal... What did they do to you, darling?”
“It was my fault”
"What? No, it wasn't, everything's fine at home, everyone's fine” He pulled my hand away from his face, moving away from me. 
“It was my fault, Glenn, then Maggie, she died because of me” 
“My goodness, no” I moved closer to him so that no one would hear. "Maggie's fine, the baby's fine, we did it so he wouldn't get suspicious. Everyone's fine” Daryl pulled me into a long-suffering kiss and began to cry, grabbing me in a hug, I sat on the floor with him still clinging to me. Dixon looked so broken, he wasn't the same strong guy who did everything for Rick. We stayed like that for a few hours, I ran my fingers through his hair to calm him down, he didn't sleep, he was on the lookout for any threat, but he closed his eyes, enjoying the affection. Until our bubble burst when someone opened the door. Daryl got up at a speed I didn't think he could manage, weakened like that, and promptly stood in front of me, protecting me from whoever came in. 
"Visiting hours are over, honey. I hope you didn't take your clothes off after Dwight left." Negan entered the room with a smug smile, covering his eyes with his bat. 
“I'm very well dressed, much to your displeasure,” I said, getting up and standing next to Daryl, who promptly grabbed my hand. "I have to get back, but nobody's forgotten you here, okay? We'll get you out of this, sweetheart."
“I wouldn't be so sure, but now Laura will take you back, and I hope your puppy behaves better after the visit.” Negan left and a blonde woman came in, waving us out.
I hugged Daryl one last time, kissing his forehead and left the room. 
The days passed more melancholy and with preparations for the war against the Saviors approaching. Rick got help from the people at the Dump. We were on our way to Hilltop to talk to Maggie and get her support. 
But when the gates opened, my vision blurred with tears... Daryl was there, a little shy, but waiting for us halfway. 
I threw my backpack on the floor and ran as fast as I could to him, his arms already open waiting for me, and he kissed me with such urgency that I lost my breath. We stayed like that for a few minutes, crying and hugging, until Rick approached us in silence, his smile unmistakable. 
I broke away from Dixon, making room for Rick and the others to hug him. Joyful laughter with tears coming out of me. 
_______________________________
“We can't try anything without Hilltop's weapons, we have a lot of personnel, but it's still too little, and we're vulnerable that way.” Maggie said after we left Gregory's room, the asshole would rather spend his whole life under threat than fight back. 
“She's right, but maybe I know someone who'd be interested in helping... they call themselves The Kingdom.” Jesus intervenes, from the corner of the room, where we're hugging, Daryl squeezes my hand with an air of hope and I can't help but smile at him with confidence too.
“Do you think they'd be allies in the war?” Rick asks, shifting in his seat. The situation isn't the best, I realize that now. I was so numb from missing Daryl that I didn't focus on protecting the community, and Rick had to handle it alone. 
“They also suffer threats from the Saviors, but the community doesn't know about it, only the leader and people they trust.” 
“He doesn't want to create panic or riots for no reason,” I say and everyone agrees. “So, what are we waiting for?” With a nod from Rick, everyone leaves the mansion and heads for their cars. The whole time Daryl didn't let go of my hand and I didn't make a point of complaining, he wasn't one to show much affection in the midst of so many people, but after everything that happened to him, I understand. 
The Kingdom was very large, with many warriors training and many families, protected and happy. I squeeze Dixon's hand tighter when I see a couple with a newborn baby surrounded by elderly women. He stares at the couple and lowers his head.
When we enter the auditorium, the first thing that catches our eye is the huge tigress sitting next to a guy on a kind of throne. Rick shies away from approaching her, but they talk normally. Until Morgan appears, and Daryl asks me quietly where Carol is. “It's a delicate subject, but if Morgan's here she must be all right, you know she's tough.” He nods, even though his curiosity isn't quenched, he knows it's not time.
The King didn't accept our proposal, but gave Daryl the freedom to take refuge in the Kingdom for as long as he needed. 
“We need to go Y/N, they can go into Alexandria after Daryl.” Rick appeared next to us as I was saying goodbye to Dixon, I nodded and he walked away. 
“It's temporary, when this is over you're not leaving my side anymore, okay?” I held Daryl's cheeks and he bowed his head sadly. 
“I want to go with you, I want to help put an end to this”
"You'll help, my love. Staying here, safe. Maybe you can convince the King, we need him."
“You know I'm not that diplomatic”
“Let's look at this situation as an opportunity, what do you think?” I smile to break the mood, Daryl gives a sad smile. “I'll never leave you, my love” I say more seriously so that he feels the truth, these days away from him were the worst and I don't want it to happen again.
_______________________________
“Look, look, look, Rick Grimes has come to greet me on my doorstep!” Negan and his henchmen arrived shortly after we got back from the Kingdom, someone up there is surely on our side. "I love seeing your abandoned dog face, Rick, but today my business is with your little friend's wife. Why don't you bring her to me?" 
Rick nods begrudgingly, turns and starts walking towards the main house where we were all gathered, waiting for some sign of Grimes. 
“He wants to talk to you.” Rick approaches and says quietly. “Be careful, he's unpredictable.” 
"That's all right, Rick. I'll put him in his place, I've had enough of this.” I walk away quickly, anger overflowing just knowing that because of him my Daryl is shaken. 
“Y/N, no, wait.” Rick tries to stop me, but it's too late, I'm striding hard towards Negan. 
“I hear you want to talk to me.” That maniac's smile only gets wider when he sees me.   
"Oh, hello, darling. How are you? Miss your husband?" 
“You've got to be kidding... of course I miss him, if you don't remember you took him away from me and I'm very possessive of what's mine,” I say through my teeth. If he thinks I'm going to be compassionate and keep my mouth shut, he's mistaken.
"Wow, that's what I like about you, darling. You're tough as nails,” he says with a mischievous laugh. "The problem is that your husband was very moved by your visit, you know? And he must have thought it was a loophole for an escape." 
“Wait, what?” I say exasperated, I've always loved acting. “You mean you've lost my husband?” 
“I thought you could help me find him.” 
“You're unbelievable...” I whisper indignantly. “If you think he's here you can look, have your goons search every house, every manhole or cupboard in this place.”
“You're always a refreshment to me, darling, you always know what I want.” I roll my eyes as he sends his men to search Alexandria. 
As expected, they find nothing and leave, promising to return next week to collect supplies. 
“I have to go, Rick,” I warn Grimes. To avoid the risk of them following me, I waited a few hours after they left, and night came. I need to see Daryl, he won't stay another night thinking we've abandoned him. He gets up from the rocking chair on the porch of his house with Judith on his lap and approaches.
“Okay, but be careful, make sure no one's following you.” Rick hugs me in his fatherly way. We were always close like brothers, after I lost everything Rick was there as a leader for everyone. “And send him a hug, tell him we miss him.” 
“I will.” I say goodbye to him and kiss the head of a sleepy Judith, who gives me a smile. I grab a car and head out through the cellars of Alexandria, towards the Kingdom, towards Daryl.
_______________________________
“She's magnificent” Daryl was standing next to Shiva's cage when I arrived at the Kingdom. Quiet and shrunken, just stroking the snout of the tigress who melted at his touch.
“She is.” he confirms with a frown. I moved closer until I could see tears forming in his eyes. I quickly bent down, sat next to him and hugged him tightly, which he reciprocated. 
"It's all right now, my love. I'm here, you're not going to stay away from me any longer.” I tried to calm his crying, which was only getting more intense. I've never seen Daryl so broken, he seemed to be accumulating all the suffering, the pain, waiting to fall apart on me. He would never do that to anyone else. 
“I got scared.” Daryl says after he calms down. “I was afraid of losing you too, losing our family.” 
“You're not going to lose me, ever.” 
“But what if it does?” Daryl lifts his head with a more serious look. "When they tortured me, all I could think about was you, that you'd be alone out here, unprotected. They could do anything to you to make me accept the fact that I was nothing in that place. And I felt like nothing."
“No, no, no.” I pull Daryl's face so that he pays close attention to me. “You're not going to lose me, you know why? Because your wife is strong, she'll go through hell to pull you out of the fire and when I can't do it anymore I'll have our whole family helping me, because I love you, Daryl, we love you. That's what love does, it turns us into fighters, people who would do anything for the one they love. I love you, Daryl.” Tears flowed non-stop from my eyes and Daryl's.
“I love you, Y/N” His lips met mine fervently, it was a needy kiss, as if he had been thirsty for days and I was his oasis in the desert. I gave myself completely to him, wanting more and more all the time. 
We were too wrapped up in our bubble, completely forgetting that Shiva was still in the cage next door, and an imposing roar from her broke us out of this bubble of lust. 
“I don't think she likes not being the center of attention,” we laughed when we noticed the tigress's angry face at being left out. 
“She'll have to accept it, because now my only attention is on my wife.” 
146 notes · View notes
ichorai · 2 years ago
Text
sorry ; daryl dixon.
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track three of BROKEN MACHINE.
pairing ; daryl dixon x doctor!reader (gender neutral pronouns)
synopsis ; you were on your knees, and daryl was too. he wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.
words ; 7.9k
themes ; heavy angst, mild action, doctor au
warnings / includes ; death and violence, negan at his worst, vulgar language, guns/weapons, descriptions of injury/blood, mentions of maggie's pregnancy, negan goes on long ass monologues, poor rick is going Through it, the walking dead s6-7 spoilers (fic starts right at the season six finale), mild sexual dialogue from negan
main masterlist.
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Maggie hummed with discontent when you pressed a cold, damp cloth to her forehead. There was a pallid color to her skin, and her temperature was beginning to rise, despite her violent shivers beneath the blanket. The inconsistent, rocking motions of the RV weren’t doing her any favors, either. 
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you to Hilltop real soon,” you said, feeling mildly guilty that you couldn’t help her more, despite being a doctor yourself. Alexandria was completely out of medical supplies and this was urgent—if Maggie didn’t get help soon… you’d never be able to forgive yourself if something bad were to happen to her or the baby. “Hang on for me, okay?”
The brunette slanted her lips in a tired smile, eyelids heavy. 
Rick knelt down beside you, speaking in a low, comforting tone. “We’re gonna get there. Once we get the medicine from Hilltop, Y/N will fix you right up.”
A small sigh fell from her pale, trembling lips. A thin film of tears warbled over her eyes. She was terrified. 
“Oh, Maggie,” you murmured, gently pulling away the short strands of hair sticking to her face. 
“How do you know?” muttered your friend, gaze trained on the ex-cop. 
“Everything we’ve done… we've done it together. We got here together and we’re still here. Things have happened, but it’s always worked out for us, ‘cause it’s always been all of us. That’s how I know. As long as it’s all of us helpin’ you, we can do it.”
A hot tear meandered down Maggie’s cheek. You nodded gratefully at Rick—he’d always had a way with words that you’d never really gotten a grasp of. 
The next hour passed by slowly. You switched between cooling her head, and helping her drink some water, sometimes just holding her hand and telling her that everything was going to be fine. To take her mind off the pain, she’d asked you to tell her about how you and Daryl met, all those years ago long before the dead began to walk. 
“I’m glad Daryl’s not here right now, because he always tells the story differently than I do. Well, how I remember it, he and his dick brother used to come to a small convenience store near their trailer park. That’s where I worked. I was around… nineteen at the time? Almost twenty. I was just working a couple jobs on the side to pay off my growing student debt. Daryl was twenty-three, almost twenty-four. Merle tried to cozy up to me—and I didn’t have any of that. I told him to fuck right off. And later that night, just as I was to close up, Daryl came by and apologized on his brother’s behalf. He was real sweet, so I—”
“What the bitch?” barked Abraham from the driver’s seat, effectively cutting your story short and rolling the RV to a grueling halt. 
“What?” asked Rick, standing up to look out the window. You followed suit, eyes widening upon the sight. 
More than half a dozen Saviors blocking the road with three of their cars—and all of them holding large guns. A lump formed in your throat, and you cast your worried gaze to Rick.
“We goin’ through?” asked Abraham, jaw set. 
Rick gnashed his jaw together in thought. “No,” he said. “We’ll talk to them. C’mon. Y/N, you stay here, watch over Maggie.”
Teeth worrying into your bottom lip, you nodded, stepping to the side to let the rest of them file out of the RV, their own loaded guns at the ready. 
From inside, you couldn’t hear what the Saviors were saying, but from the smug expression of the one in the center with a hideous pornstache, you knew it couldn’t be anything pleasant for your group. 
Three minutes later, they came back in, all looking a bit disgruntled. Rick, most of all.
“What’s going on?” you asked Carl, placing a hand on his forearm. 
The young man that you were so fond of grimaced, shaking his head and lowering his voice to a whisper so that Maggie couldn’t overhear. “They won’t let us through. Want half our stuff.”
Your breath hitched. At this rate, you didn’t know how long Maggie could last without the proper care and medicine. And Alexandria was running low on supplies as it is—taking away half of everything would put the community in a pretty dire situation.
“Alright, thanks kid,” you told him, trying your absolute best not to cry from frustration, your nose burning with the effort. 
The truck began to pull further away from the Saviors, until they were only but little dots against the horizon. 
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“Logrun Road’s a straight shot,” said Eugene, repeatedly tapping his finger against the map spread out across the RV’s pull-out table. 
Next to you, Sasha shook her head. “We want visibility.”
You pursed your lips, craning your neck to scan the small, faded texts of the map. “Can we go down Shelton?”
Eugene hummed in agreement, drawling out in his thick Southern accent, “Golf course, country clubs, sloping terrain—no bum rush from the bogeymen. We’d see ‘em from a good piece. It is a longer trip by a third but we’d get the scenic safety of clear-cut dingles and glens.”
Both you and Sasha stared at him blankly. 
“You’re being serious, right?” asked Sasha.
“As coronary thrombosis,” replied the man across from you, stony-faced. Besides, Eugene was never one to joke around.
Sasha rounded her gaze to you expectantly, waiting for you to explain in normal terms. “He’s serious,” you said. “It’s a longer route, but it’ll be well-sheltered and hopefully keep us hidden from the Saviors. I’ll try to keep Maggie steady until then.”
The two nodded at you, and you pushed away from the table, heading further back into the RV where Maggie and Rick were. She was pale and clammy, but still had enough energy to talk to you, so you took that as a good sign. 
Not even ten minutes later, while you were taking measurements of her blood pressure and body temperature, the vehicle came to another rumbling halt. 
“Bitch nuts,” cursed Abraham, loudly for both you and Rick to hear. 
The Saviors were blocking the road. Again.
You could feel panic seize about your chest, constricting your lungs. The situation wasn’t looking good for Maggie, not one bit—but you couldn’t give up hope. Not now, when she needed you the most. You blew out a shaky breath, absentmindedly wishing Daryl was here with you to give you some comfort of mind.
“We making our stand?” asked Sasha, staring out of the window, where more than a dozen saviors were lined up. 
Carl, ever the fiery one, spat out, “Yeah. We end this.”
The blue of his father’s eyes flashed dangerously. “No. Not now. It’s too dangerous for Maggie. They’ve been waiting—they’re ready. We ain’t. With one of us behind the wheel, and Y/N with Maggie, that’d be five on sixteen. We’re gonna play it our way. How we want it.”
Reluctant, Carl nodded. 
Slowly, the RV started backing away. Three successive, warning gunshots were fired into the air. You could feel a sick, twisted rage curl up within your stomach. 
If Maggie died on your watch—her blood would be on the hands of the Saviors.
You fumbled for another map pinned up on the cork board, eyes roaming over the roads, desperate for another available route. Could they possibly have you surrounded? No—the woods were vast, and the roads were winding—there were so many paths left to take to Hilltop. The Saviors simply wouldn’t have the numbers to stop you.
Wouldn’t they?
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The RV came to another stop. This time, there were no Saviors blocking the road, but instead, a line of chained-up walkers. Not wanting to risk damaging the RV by driving through them, the rest of the group filed out to check if the coast was clear. You told Maggie you’d be right back, before hopping out of the RV, lingering by the doorway to narrow your gaze at the restrained walkers.
“That’s Michonne’s,” breathed out Carl, his single eye widening. A lock of her hair was stapled against the center walker’s forehead. 
Horror, as black as tar itself, seeped into your chest when you glanced over to the next snarling form, just to see two of Daryl’s arrows embedded into its decaying stomach. Daryl always retrieved his arrows. Which meant… something had happened to him.
“That’s Daryl’s,” you said, loud enough for Rick to hear. “Oh, no, Rick… they did this on purpose. They knew we were coming this way—!”
Just as Rick was about to cleave his axe into the walker’s skull, ricocheting gunfire crackled into the ground, making the dried leaves flutter up with the sudden force, plumes of dust and smoke flying with each bullet. 
“Get back to the RV! Go!” yelled Rick. You scrambled up the steps and ran to a concerned Maggie, trembling as you carefully hovered over her, in case any bullets pierced through the walls and accidentally hit her. Carl and Sasha began shooting blindly into the woods, having not a clue where all the shots were coming from. Rick surged forward and thrust his axe down onto one of the walker’s rotting arms, effectively leaving a gap open for the RV to drive through. 
The rest of the group rushed inside, and Abraham practically threw himself into the driver’s seat to get the RV moving.
The shots died away after a few minutes. With shallow, inconsistent breaths, you slid off of Maggie, slumping down beside her. She croaked out a question, but it fell upon deaf ears, ringing with static and white noise. A warm tear fell from your burning eyes, and you quickly brushed it away with the back of your palm.
Something happened to Daryl. And it was killing you that you couldn’t help him. That you didn’t even know where he was. 
You looked out the window through a watery film of tears, watching the yellow-green fields pass by in a blur. A quick glance at the lowering sun told you that the group was going to lose daylight soon enough, as well. 
A strange, creaking noise was coming from below the RV. 
“What’s that sound?” said Sasha, worried. 
“Undercarriage could’ve caught a bullet,” replied Eugene. “Could be transmission. Could be nothing.”
Agitated, Rick growled out, “They were firing at our feet. They blocked the road, but they weren’t trying to stop us.”
“They want us in this direction,” you murmured, making his wild gaze swivel to you. You gestured to the map. “Rick, they know we’re coming. They know we wanna go North.”
“Meadows would take us East a piece,” said Eugene, “but we can get back on track on Mayhew.”
It would take too long, you thought. Maggie doesn’t have the strength to carry on anymore.
Shaking her head, Sasha said, “We’re down to a third of a tank—we could top off at the next stop, but it’s risky. We can’t have any refills after that.”
A low moan fell from Maggie’s pale lips as a wave of pain washed over her, moving in and out of a hazy unconsciousness. You were quick to check her temperature, blanching at the fact that she was nearly scalding to the touch. You quickly placed the damp cloth to her skin again, trying your best to keep her temperature down.
“Rick, she’s burning up,” you told him, voice thick with worry. 
It was then that the RV came to another stop. 
This time, there were more saviors—around three dozen, maybe even four.
“Go back,” said Rick, eyes wide and stress evidently painted across his strained features. 
Abraham squared his jaw. “We have nowhere to go back to.”
With a shaky breath, you stroked Maggie’s head, your heart shattering into millions of pieces. “I’m sorry, Maggie,” you said, a sob bubbling in your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—I wish I could do something, I’m sorry.”
Disoriented and not having heard a word of your apologetic babbling, Maggie croaked out, “Are we there yet?”
More tears slipped down your cheeks. Rick was by your side, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other on Maggie’s arm. You stifled your sobs with your palm, and Rick replied in your stead.
“Yeah, Maggie. We’re—we’re getting there.”
The woman’s eyelids fluttered lethargically. “Were there… I heard shots.”
Rick’s expression softened. “Yeah, the Saviors—they’re gone now. We’re gonna get you there.”
A ghost of a smile tilted the corner of Maggie’s lips up. “I know.”
“You’ll be okay,” you told her, sniffling. “The baby’s going to be okay. This isn’t the end.”
“There’s more,” agreed Rick. “There’s gonna be more, I promise.”
A beat of silence. 
“I believe in you, Rick,” she hoarsely said. Maggie’s gaze slowly moved from Rick to you. “In both of you.”
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Maggie was asleep again. You made sure to give her plenty of water and what was left of the antibiotics you had saved—but that was the very last bit of supply you had. There was little else you could do for her other than getting her to Hilltop for the proper medicine and treatment she needed.
“So what’s the play?” asked Abraham. “They’ve cut us off every turn we made.”
“She needs medicine,” said Rick, desperation lacing each word. “She’ll die without it.”
“We only have two plausible routes North from here. They’ve cornered us,” Sasha whispered, gaze trained on the map.
Hopelessness laid uneasy on all of your shoulders. 
“They’re probably waiting for us right now,” said Aaron.
Eugene gritted his teeth. “So, they’re ahead of us. Heck, probably even behind us. But they’re not waiting on us, per se—they’re waitin’ on this rust bucket. They don’t know the moment-to-moment occupancy of said rust bucket. And the sun sets soon.”
“We need to leave now if we want Maggie to make it to Hilltop,” you said, voice trembling with a myriad of guilt, anger, and frustration. “We carry Maggie, and we go on foot. Through the woods. They can’t block us there.”
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Eugene took the RV in hopes of tricking the Saviors. Everybody else in the group set off into the woods, taking turns carrying Maggie on the makeshift stretcher, bundled under two layers of blankets. The sun had long set, and the whispering winds were cold this time of year. 
“Just let me walk it,” she rasped, voice scratchy and throat dry. 
“No,” you were quick to reply. “You’re in no condition to walk right now, Maggie. It’s only a few more miles. Just rest up a bit more, okay?”
Though she didn’t look happy, Maggie didn’t protest any further, letting her tired eyes slip shut once more. 
After a couple more minutes, Aaron stepped in to carry one end of the stretcher for you, telling you that you also needed to rest your arms for a second. With a grateful nod, you reluctantly let go, falling into stride with Carl.
“Are you okay?” the young man asked, his hand brushing yours, his nonverbal way of saying that he was here for you if you needed him. “I’m sure Daryl and Michonne are fine. They’re fighters. Maggie’s going to be fine, too.”
You sent him a fond, but tired smile. “Yeah, I hope so, kiddo,” you told him, cuffing his shoulder affectionately. The thought of Daryl out there, probably worried sick for you as well, made your stomach twist into knots. “I really hope so.”
It was at that moment, a shrill whistle sounded out from the darkness of the forest. The group halted in their tracks. One by one, more whistles were added to the ear-splitting melody. It sounded like there were dozens, if not a hundred voices surrounding you. 
“Go!” yelled Rick. “Go!” 
The rest of you broke out in a sprint, and you grabbed Carl’s hand, winding around tree trunks and hopping over overgrown roots, ignoring the stinging scrapes of twisting branches against your face. 
The whistling only continued, growing louder, louder, louder—
Until you came face to face with the source itself. 
Car lights suddenly flashed open, momentarily blinding you. You drew Carl closer to you, instinctively protecting him, but it was no use. They had your group surrounded. Saviors, hundreds of them, gathered around you with leering expressions. All of them were clutching guns.
Raw fear curled around your lungs when you saw Eugene on his knees not too far from you, tears dripping down his face. 
Rick looked destroyed. Devastated. 
You were shaking so hard that your knees began to buckle beneath you. 
Finally, the whistling began to dwindle away. 
From the crowd, stepped out a familiar face—the man with a hideous pornstache that stopped the RV on the initial route. 
“Good,” he called out. He swept his arms out in a faux inviting gesture. “You made it. Welcome to where you’re going—because you ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘til we’re done with you. We’ll take your weapons.”
When he pointed a gun straight at Maggie, you immediately did as he said, pulling out the pistol wedged in your belt. There was a knife inside your boot, but you weren’t too keen on giving that up yet. You tossed your pistol on the ground just as Abraham threw down his rifle. The rest of the group followed suit.
Trembling, Rick spat out, “We can talk about this—”
“We’re done talking,” interrupted Pornstache. “Okay. Get her down, and let’s get you all on your knees. Lots to cover.”
“She can’t,” you snarled, stepping in front of Maggie protectively. “She’s sick, she can’t—”
“Oh, she’ll be far worse than just sick if you don’t get her on her knees,” the man easily rebutted, eyes roaming over your protective form. 
Lips trembling, you turned around, and with Abraham on her other side, you helped Maggie limp off the stretcher and gently set her down on her knees. Your eyes glistened and warbled with unshed tears. Maggie could only shake her head, as if telling you that it wasn’t your fault.
Terrified, Rick glanced around at the rest of the group. He’d failed you. All of you. 
“Gonna need you on your knees, sweetheart,” said Pornstache, slowly dragging the end of his gun up your cheek with a salacious grin.
With a withering glare, you sank down beside Maggie, Rick on your left side, breathing haggard and lips quaking. Sasha and Abraham followed suit. Carl was the last, fists clenched by his sides. 
“Dwight!” whistled Pornstache. “Chop chop! Bring out the others!”
A blonde man with half of his face horribly marred by what looked to be a severe burn injury, stepped forward, yanking open the back of a truck. 
And, to your horror, he dragged out your boyfriend, covered in blood—blood that you could only pray wasn’t his, even though you knew deep down that that was only wishful thinking. Following Daryl was Michonne, Rosita, and Glenn, equally distraught. 
Daryl caught your eye for a brief second, pure terror within his irises. He looked over you to make sure that you were alright, and you did the same with him, a tear slipping down your cheek.
I love you, you mouthed to him. He dipped his head once in understanding, before forcing his gaze away, not wanting to give the Saviors anymore reason to torture either of you. 
“Maggie…?” Glenn painfully rasped once he caught sight of his wife in such a state. He tried to make his way to her, but the Saviors grabbed his arms and forced him down, guns digging harshly into his back. 
“Alright!” exclaimed Pornstache. “We got a full boat! Let’s meet the man, eh?”
He knocked twice on the door to the RV you were in not even an hour ago. 
The door slowly swung open, squeaking on its hinges. 
And out strode a tall man clad in a leather jacket, a bat covered in barbed wire hanging off his shoulder. He took his sweet time making his way towards the group, feet languidly dragging along the gravelly dirt, and a smirk accentuating his smug expression. 
“Pissing our pants yet?” he drawled, voice tapering into a light chuckle as he stepped out into the light, smiling down at your group on your knees. “Boy, do I have a feeling we’re gettin’ close. Mm, yeah—it’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Now which one of you pricks is the leader?”
Pornstache pointed at Rick. “It’s this one here.”
The man with the bat grinned wider, before stepping right in front of Rick, who craned his neck to glare up at him. “Hi there. You’re Rick, right? I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killin’ my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people… you killed more of my people. Not cool, man. Not cool. You have… no fuckin’ idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Mmh, yeah. You are so gonna regret crossin’ me in a few minutes. Yes, you are.” A dangerous, wolfish grin flashed across Negan’s face. “You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter what—you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is really very simple. So, even if you’re stupid, which you may very well be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes—pay attention.”
He lowered his bat off his shoulder and slotted the barbed end right below Rick’s chin. You held in your breath, your entire body wracking with tremors. Though you knew you needed to stop, you couldn’t help but chance glances at Daryl every so often, your concern for him rapidly growing. Some of that was his blood, it had to be—his eyes were sunken with exhaust and his chest, the very chest you would fall asleep on every night, was rising and falling unevenly, making you believe he was hurt, but you just couldn’t see what was hurting him. 
“Give me your shit… or I will kill you. See? Simple as that.” Negan pulled the bat away from Rick, and began walking around the group as he spoke. “Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. 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! You ruled the roost. You built something, Rick. 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. You understand?”
Rick swallowed heavily. Narrowing his keen eyes, Negan cupped his ear and leaned down closer to the kneeling man. 
“What? No answer? You don’t really think that you were going to get through this without being punished, now, did you? 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—and you can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you? I’m not growin’ a garden. But you killed my people—a whole damn lot of ‘em! More than I’m comfortable with, honestly. And for that… for that you’re gonna pay.”
Your hands curled into fists on your knees. You knew what was coming. And you’d be damned if you were going to let it happen.
“So, now… I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you.” Negan inhaled sharply, as if he enjoyed prolonging the torture. He bent down once more, showing off the barbed bat. “This right here—this is Lucille. And she is awesome. All this… all this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor!”
Negan stopped in front of Abraham, who straightened and glared defiantly at the smirking man. In thought, Negan subconsciously rubbed his bearded jaw with one hand at the sight of Abraham’s own mustache. “Huh. I gotta shave this shit.”
On he strolled, before halting in front of Carl. “You had one of our guns. Hm. You got a lot of our guns.” Carl only scowled at the man. “Shit, kid. Lighten up. At least cry a little.”
Chuckling, Negan moved on. 
You could feel one of your eyes twitch when you saw his shoes stop right in front of you. His bat was beneath your chin in an instant, forcing you to look up. The sharp metal on the bat painfully scratched against your jaw, and fresh tears pricked the corners of your eyes.
“My, my, you’re a pretty thing, aren’t you? What’s your name, darlin’?”
Hatred simmered within your chest, but you forced your expression to remain indifferent.
You quietly told him your name, wincing when his bat dug deeper into your neck and he ordered you to say it louder. You repeated yourself, voice cracking. A single tear meandered down your cheek and slid down your chin, dripping onto Lucille.
Negan hummed, nodding in satisfaction. “Now that’s what I want to see, folks! A little emotion around here—Y/N’s got the gist of it!”
“Kill me,” you gritted out, making the rest of the group’s eyes widen. You could feel Rick’s stare burning holes straight through you, but you refused to meet his gaze, staring straight up at Negan. “You can kill me. Just don’t hurt them. Let them go. Maggie, on my right, she’s real sick and she needs medicine—if she doesn’t get the proper treatment soon, she’ll… she’ll…”
The man in front of you barked out an amused laugh. “She’ll what?”
“She’ll die,” you snarled. “So kill me. Get it over with—and let them go.”
And for a split second, you let your eyes return to Daryl, one last time. He wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that Negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.
But it was all futile. He noticed anyway. 
He followed your gaze over to Daryl, lowering his bat to gesture between the two of you. 
“Ah… you two are a thing, ain’t ya? Damn. And here I thought you were available for takin’, sugar.” Negan tossed his head back and chuckled with mild disappointment. “God, look at you bein’ all heroic, offering yourself up for the chopping block! No, no, darlin’, this ain’t a game of who gets to be a martyr and save their friends. You don’t decide what’s happening here. I do. You think I don’t know you’re the doctor of the group? My people have been reporting to me—they know you’ve been the one taking care of Little Miss Sickly over there. No… you’re far too valuable for me to kill. We need more people like you, darlin’. Plus, I wouldn’t want to bash in your pretty little face, now, would I?”
With a hum, Negan stepped away from you, fixing his gaze upon Maggie.
“Jesus. You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now—!”
“NO!” screamed Glenn, scrambling onto his feet and lunging at Negan. Before he could even begin to make contact, Dwight grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, threateningly shoving Daryl’s crossbow into his face. 
Maggie cried out—both from a fresh wave of pain seeping through her bones, and from the sight of her husband being dragged back to his spot like a ragdoll. 
Huffing out a sigh, Negan grunted out, “Nope. Nope, nope, get him back in line.”
Glenn screamed, choking back a sob. “No… don’t. Don’t!”
Negan could only smile. “Alright, alright, listen. Don’t any of you do that again—I will shut that shit down, no exceptions! First one’s free—it’s an emotional moment. I get it. Mmh. Sucks, don’t it? The moment you realize you don’t know shit.”
Rick trembled violently beside you. Tilting his head, Negan glanced between him and Carl, realization dawning upon him when he noticed the physical similarities between the two.
“This is your kid, right? Ohoho, that is definitely your kid!” 
“JUST STOP THIS!” yelled Rick, so sudden that it made you flinch.
Equivalent in volume, Negan bellowed back, “HEY! Do not make me kill your little future serial killer! Don’t make it easy on me! I gotta pick somebody—everybody’s at the table waitin’ for me to order, hm?” 
The man whistled out a shrill tune, one that sent a shiver dance down your spine. 
“I simply cannot decide. But I got an idea.” With that, he pointed the bat at Rick. “Eenie.”
He moved to you, before narrowing his eyes, and skipped over to Maggie. “Meenie.”
Abraham. “Minie.”
Michonne. “Mo.”
Glenn. “Catch.”
Daryl. “A tiger.”
Rosita. “By.”
Eugene. “His toe.”
Sasha. “If.”
Aaron. “He hollers.”
Carl. “Let him go.”
And so on he went. 
My mother told me to pick the very best one. And you… are… it.
Your heart dropped when the end of his bat stopped in front of Abraham. 
No. No… no… no…
“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 doin’ that!” 
And with that, he swung the bat back and brought it clean down on Abraham’s head.
Screams erupted from around you. You could feel your vision blur over with your tears, and you closed your eyes shut, not wanting to see such a gruesome sight, curling in on yourself as you listened to the repeated, sickening squelch of Negan’s bat repeatedly hitting your dear friend. Negan gloated and laughed and jeered. You cried and sobbed and flinched with every strike.
His blood—Abraham’s blood—splattered on your face. You could feel it. 
Warm, moist, and thick. Dripping down your cheek. 
“You guys… look at my dirty girl!” proclaimed Negan, jutting out the bloody bat for all to witness. The monster of a man tilted his head at Rosita, whose eyes were horrified and bloodshot, dripping with fat tears. “Sweetheart… lay your eyes on this!”
When Rosita began to cry harder, Negan hummed. “Oh, damn. Were you… were you guys together? That sucks. If you were, you should know—there was a reason for all this. Red—and damn if that isn’t a good name for him—he just took one, or six, or seven for the team! So take… a damn… look.”
Rosita refused to move her gaze from Abraham’s mutilated corpse.
And, much to your horror, Daryl growled out as he surged forward on his feet, landing a clean punch against Negan’s jaw. You screamed out his name when three Saviors grabbed him and beat him back onto the ground, pinning him tightly against the gravel. A sob wracked through your frame and you could feel your stomach twist into itself. Daryl was still struggling against them, clutching his side as he panted out.
“No!” yelled Negan, clearly furious. “Oh, no. That—is a big no-no. The whole thing—not one fucking bit of that shit flies here!”
Terror clutched at your palpitating heart when Negan shoved Lucille right up into Daryl’s face, smearing Abraham’s blood all over him. 
Dwight strode up and pointed Daryl’s own crossbow against the back of your boyfriend’s head. A sob fell from your lips. You couldn’t watch this—you just couldn’t.
“Daryl,” you cried out, hiccupping through your words. “Negan… no. No, please, don’t! I’ll do anything, please! Not him. Please, not him!”
Amused at your pleading, Negan casted a sidelong glance to you, before grabbing at Daryl’s hair and pulling him upright. “See what you did there, Buckaroo? You got your little partner all upset! Look, they’re crying their eyes out, worried for you.” Negan got back up on his feet. “Get him back in line,” he barked, though his eyes were trained on you.
And in two quick strides, he was back in front of you, gripping your face tightly between his gloved hand. “Look at you, darlin’, all covered in blood. Would it be weird if I say it makes my dick hard as fuck?” You scowled, trying your best to pull your face away from his uncomfortably rough grip. “Ah, ah, ah, sweetheart—your boyfriend here didn’t listen to me earlier. I said the first one was free, didn’t I? And what does that mean? Second one’s got a price, hm? I said I’d shut that shit down—no exceptions. I don’t know what kind of lyin’ assholes y’all have been dealing with… but I’m a man of my word. First impressions are important! I need you all to know me. Know that I’m not joking around with this shit. Now, if you weren’t a doctor and you weren’t so fuckin’ hot—I would’ve bashed your head to pieces without battin’ an eye! But, lookie here, I’m faced with another dilemma. I need to kill another one of you to get my point across.” 
A wail bubbled up in your throat and you began to claw at Negan’s fingers now painfully squeezing your jaw. “No… please, please… don’t, please—!”
“And I want you, darlin’, to pick which one of your little friends I kill.” 
“No!” you spat, breathing shallow and panicked. “Me—just kill me, Negan—you don’t have to hurt anyone else, please, please, let them go, you—”
Getting irritated with you, Negan shook your face until you stopped blubbering. “You’re not listenin’ to me. Pick. Someone. Not you, and not your little boyfriend. I want him to live with the fact that one of his friends died because of him. Pick someone. Anyone, sweetheart. You’ll be doin’ em a favor, honestly. They get to save the rest of you from a miserable death! Now, doesn’t that sound appealing?”
A beat of silence. Negan stared you down, and you glared right back.
“Eat my shit,” you snarled out.
Narrowing his eyes, Negan finally relinquished his hold on you. You gasped for breath, chest heaving, stabilizing yourself with your hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you’re feisty! Might have to keep you around after this—holy fuckin’ shit. Mmh, alright… fine, then. Since you won’t pick—I’ll just have to kill your precious patient’s boyfriend, hm?”
Before any of you could react, Negan spun on his heel and arced his bat through the air, right onto Glenn’s head. Again, and again, and again.
A piercing scream echoed across the forest. Maggie’s scream. 
Your mouth dropped open as a silent cry scratched down the sides of your throat. 
Glenn was still alive, somehow, after all those bashes. Blood caked his entire skull and part of his head was caved in—to your nauseating horror, one of his eyes had come out of its socket.
“Buddy, you still there?” exclaimed Negan in astonishment, bending down to inspect his handiwork. “I just don’t know… seems to me like you’re tryin’ to say something! But you just took a hell of a hit! I just cracked your skull so hard, your eyeball popped right out! And it is gross as shit!”
After all that, Glenn managed to slur out, “Maggie… I’ll find you.”
Sobs rang throughout the clearing. The rest of the group cried tears for Glenn—without him, all of you would’ve been dead three times over. 
“Awh, hell. I can see this is hard on you guys,” said Negan. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But I did say… no exceptions!” 
With that, he brought down his bat again. Over, and over, and over.
Maggie cried so hard her voice started to give out. 
Daryl, your beloved Daryl, flinched with every stroke of the bat, his eyes red and puffy with tears. You could see it already—the guilt behind his gaze. He thought it was his fault Glenn was killed.
You shut your eyes again. 
“Lucille is thirsty! She’s a vampire bat!” proudly declared Negan, as he swung one final hit on Glenn’s long-dead body. “What? Was the joke that bad? Tough crowd, huh?”
“I’m gonna kill you,” whispered Rick once Negan was done. Rick had blood splattered all over his face, as well. Abraham’s blood. Glenn’s blood. 
Negan squatted down beside him, tilting his head. His bat was dangerously close to you. “What? I didn’t quite catch that, Rick. You’re gonna have to speak up.”
Squaring his jaw, Rick drew in a sharp inhale. “Not today… not tomorrow… but I’m gonna kill you.”
Negan sucked at his teeth. “Jesus,” he softly said. “Simon. What did he have? A knife?”
Pornstache raised his brows. “He had a hatchet. An axe.”
Snorting, Negan shook his head. “Simon’s my right-hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without ‘em? A whole lot of work. You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh… or did I…”
The man waved the bloodied bat in front of Rick’s face, taunting him. 
“Sure, yeah. Give me his axe.” Pornstache handed Negan the small weapon and Negan smugly slid it into his belt. Suddenly, Negan grabbed the back of Rick’s jacket and yanked him up, practically dragging him by the scruff towards the RV. Your breath hitched, wanting to stop him, but all the guns trained on the backs of your friends made you freeze. All you could do was lower your head and stave away your raucous sobs. 
“I’ll be right back, folks! Maybe Rick will be with me! And if not… well, we can just turn these people inside out, won’t we? I mean… the ones that are left!”
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They were gone for hours.
During those hours, part of you wanted to go to Maggie, comfort her, check if both she and the baby were alright. No doubt she was in a tremendous amount of both emotional and physical pain. The other part of you wanted to go to Daryl, curl up in the safety of his arms and cry into his chest. 
But you couldn’t do either. Not with the Saviors pointing the barrels of their rifles to the back of your skulls. 
The sun was already beginning to rise, tinting the sky a sweet, soft shade of blue. A stark juxtaposition to the dark red blood steadily drying on the rocky ground.
When Rick got back, Negan ruthlessly threw him down in front of the group. He looked exhausted. More than that—he looked dead inside. The light behind his eyes was gone.
“Do you know what that little trip was about?” asked Negan. 
Rick looked around wildly, as if making sure that everyone else was alright. 
“Speak when you’re spoken to,” Negan hissed.
Begrudgingly, Rick bowed his head. “Okay… okay.”
Negan wolfishly grinned, though there was a dark glimmer to his irises that you misliked. “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 lookin’ at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that’s not gonna work!” Once again, Negan squatted down beside Rick, that smug expression still plastered across the man’s coarse features. “So… do I give you another chance?”
After a moment’s pause, Rick hacked out, “Yeah. Yes.”
Satisfied, Negan clapped Rick on the back, before getting back up onto his feet. “Alright! 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 more guns to the back of their heads. Level with their noses, so if you have to fire… it’ll be a real fuckin’ mess.” 
You could feel cold metal graze the very top of your temple. 
“Kid, come here,” said Negan, making your heart plummet to your stomach. Rick’s expression shifted to one of pure dread.
Carl didn’t move. 
“Kid… now.” 
With cautious movements, Carl stood up in front of the taller man. 
“You a southpaw?” asked Negan while he unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of its loops.
“Am I a what?”
“A lefty,” clarified Negan. 
Carl scowled. “No.”
“Good,” retorted Negan, before grabbing Carl’s left arm and tying the belt around his bicep. “That hurt?”
Gritting his teeth, Carl bit out a negative. 
“It should. It’s supposed to.” Negan smirked, knocking Carl’s cowboy hat off his head. “Alright, get down on the ground next to daddy, kid. Spread them wings!”
Slowly, Carl lowered himself down beside Rick, his cheek pressed flat against the dusty gravel.
“Simon, you got a pen?” 
Pornstache nodded, brandishing a marker from his pocket and tossing it over to Negan. The man uncapped the black pen with his teeth, flashing you a wink and spitting out the cap somewhere to the side. He kneeled down by Carl to draw a straight line just below the junction of his elbow.
“Sorry, kid,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “This is gonna be as cold as a warlock’s dick, as if he were hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across your forearm! Gives you a little leverage, don’t it?” 
Stammering, Rick muttered out, “Please… please don’t. Please don’t.”
Negan tilted his head, lightly chuckling. “Me? Oh, I ain’t doin’ shit. Rick… I want you to take your axe and cut your son’s left arm off—right on that line! Now, I know you gotta 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 your kid dies. Then the people back home die. Then you… eventually. I’d keep you breathing for a few years just so you could stew on it!”
“You… you don’t have to do this,” pleaded Michonne. It was the first time she’d spoken since she got out of the truck. Seeing Carl splayed out in front of her, practically her son, made something inside her snap. “We understand. We get it, we—”
“You might understand! I’m not so sure Rick here 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. You remember those, right? Nothin’ messy. I want a clean, forty-five degree cut. Give us somethin’ to fold over. You got Y/N right there to fix him up nice and good. The kid’ll be just fine. Probably.”
Rick was just about losing his mind, rocking back and forth, murmuring incoherently beneath his breath. Sweat dripped down his bloodied face, his hair, mixing with the salty tears leaking from his crazed eyes. 
“Rick. This needs to happen now. Chop, chop. Before I crush the little fella’s skull myself.” 
Swallowing down his sobs, Rick choked, “It can—it can… it can be me. It can be me. Wh… you… you could do it to me. I c-can go with—with you.”
Negan smiled at his desperation. “No. This is the only way. Pick up the axe, Rick. Not making a decision is a big decision, let me tell you that. You really wanna see all these people die? Because you will—if you don’t PICK UP THE FUCKING AXE!”
Rick began sobbing uncontrollably.
“Oh, my God,” said Negan, pulling at his face wearily. “You gonna make me count? Okay, Rick—you win. I’ll start counting. Three!”
“PLEASE!” screamed Rick. “IT CAN BE ME. PLEASE!”
“Two!” Negan kneeled down and slapped a sobbing Rick across the face, before grabbing his cheeks, not unlike he did with you hours before. “This is it, Rick. Make a decision. One!”
With a gut wrenching scream, Rick’s trembling fingers curled around the handle of his axe.
“Dad…” whispered Carl. A tear slipped down your cheek as the events unfolded in front of you. “Just do it.”
Rick cocked his arm back, seconds away from bringing it down to cleave Carl’s hand off. 
But Negan grabbed Rick’s wrist at the very last second, stopping him.
The man smirked, pleased with himself. “You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?”
Frantically, Rick nodded his head. 
“SPEAK WHEN YOU’RE SPOKEN TO! You answer to me. You provide for me!”
“I’ll provide for you!” cried Rick.
“You belong to me! Right?” hollered Negan.
Hiccuping a sob, Rick bobbed his head. “Right.”
“Now that… that is the look I wanted to see.” Negan grabbed Rick’s axe from him and stepped away. “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 before… that is over now.”
Negan clapped his hands together, sighing out in relief. 
And strangely, you were slightly relieved, as well. Maybe he was done. He wasn’t going to kill any more of you. This was all over for now. 
Right?
“Dwight,” said Negan. “Load him up.”
To your shock, Negan pointed Lucille straight at Daryl.
“See, he’s got guts. Not a little bitch like someone I know,” Negan told Rick. “I like him. He’s mine now. You still wanna try something? Not today, not tomorrow? I will cut pieces off of… what’s his name?” 
“Daryl,” said Pornstache.
“Wow. That actually sounds just about 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.”
“No…” you croaked out, when Dwight grabbed your boyfriend and dragged him back to the truck as if he were a wild animal, crossbow pointed at his chest. Maggie sobbed from beside you. “No, Daryl… please, no, don’t—please don’t take him from me!” you cried. “Please, I need him… Daryl!”
Negan smiled down at you. “Mmh. Alrighty, then. I’ll take you, too. Come on.” 
A gasp lodged in your throat when he suddenly grabbed your arm and yanked you upwards. 
“No, wait, I’m the only doctor they have, they need—Maggie needs m—!”
“I don’t give a rat’s flying blue ass,” growled Negan, shoving you in the direction of the truck, where Daryl watched you with wide, scared eyes. You craned your neck around to look at Rick and Maggie and the rest of the group—your family—one last time, unsure of when, if ever, you’d see them again. “You’re mine now. Got a whole lot of shit you can do for me, that’s for sure, darlin’. Load ‘em up!” 
One of the Saviors pushed you into the truck just as Negan yelled out, “Welcome to a brand new beginning, you sorry shits! I’ll 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-fuckin’-ta.”
You collapsed straight into Daryl once you were inside, thundering sobs spilling from your lungs. He wrapped his burly arms around you, smelling of dirt and blood and motor oil. No words needed to be said. No words could be said.
The both of you had lost so much today. 
And now… you’d lost your freedom, as well.
Daryl began crying into your shoulder, and you could only hold him all the tighter. 
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