A/N: Hey guys! So this is an ongoing fanfic I'm writing based on the latter half of Season 6 going onto Season 7. It's AU and will just explore some potential happenings, or just be a way of telling the story in a different manner from the way the TV series goes on to tell it. This is my first fanfic for the Walking Dead so I hope you all enjoy it. Reviews are most welcome and I'd love to hear from you. Thanks guys, and once again, hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 1 – Something to Fear
They had survived. Despite the horde of Walkers breaching Alexandria's walls and the Wolves trying to tear all they had built from them, the people of Alexandria had stood tall and reclaimed it as their own. They had become exactly what Rick had feared they never could. They had proved him wrong. And he was all the happier for it. Deep down in his darkened soul from all which he had been through, he'd wanted them to change ever so desperately. He just didn't know how to show it the right ways. For all of it to come to pass however, it had cost them greatly. Carl had lost his eye… and Jessie…. She had been lost entirely to them. Countless others completed that death toll too. And when it seemed that all had been lost and there was little more to hold onto in a world so plagued by grief and death, they stumbled across someone who brought them some hope. Father Gabriel may have been right all along. Maybe they should have been putting their faith in a little man called Jesus. Though, granted, perhaps it hadn't been the Jesus he'd been preaching about.
Having stumbled upon Jesus Monroe in their travels, Rick and Daryl had brought a new set of possibility to Alexandria. Food, crops, medicine – anything they could have ever dreamed of and then some.
And finally, he had taken them to his home so that they could speak to the leader of the Hilltop Colony to try and come to an agreement on trade.
Maggie had been working her magic for what seemed like hours now inside the Barington House. From what Jesus had told the rest of the group, Gregory, their leader, could pose quite the immovable object when it came to meeting on mutual ground. Though, from what had been said, he had nothing on a man named Negan. A man that Jesus had preached should never be crossed – especially when he came with the numbers that fell in line with him.
"So this…. 'Negan', you folks ain't stood up to him before?" Rick quirked, his legs kicked out in front of him as he sat on a small, carved stool that Jesus had provided each of the Alexandrian's that had come to the Hilltop.
"He's quite the savage. Dangerous, cruel…. Sadistic." Jesus explained. "It's not that we don't want to oppose what he stands for – we just can't. Most of our people here wouldn't know where to point a gun or knife if you put it in their hands to defend themselves. They're chefs, builders, housewives, childcare workers…. Nothing more, Rick."
"An' so what? You just roll over and let this Negan guy take anythin' he wants?" Rick pushed some more.
"After he bashes a sixteen year olds head in right in front of the entire town – you kind of have to come to terms with the fact that you can't oppose that. Especially when he has an army behind his back." The bearded Hilltop man remarked, pulling a hand through his long locks.
"Surely there's something you can do, Jesus?" Glenn asked from his own seated position. "Find a happy medium with him…. Something?"
Jesus laughed a little. "No, I'm afraid not." He let out a deep, breathy sigh. "Negan isn't the negotiable type. If he wants it, he gets it. Simple as that."
Michonne sat silently, her sword over her lap as she looked between Rick and Daryl who sat opposite her. Clearly by her very expression she didn't like this Negan fellow already, but she hadn't the need to voice herself.
Tara looked ill and pale in face still from the remark about the sixteen year old boy being bludgeoned to death with Eric, Rosita and Heath appearing in much the same way.
Jesus had readied to elaborate some though was cut off by a call out at the gates.
"Open the gates! Saviours approaching!'
Eyes flashed to the entrance to the settlement. Concern crossed Jesus's face as he launched to his feet and raced across the ground between where he sat and the guards who had watch duty.
"Negan…. Is Negan with them!?"
The guard paused. His eyes narrowed as he tried to see out into the crowd of bikes that approached. Silence. A brief moment more of pause. His body froze.
Jesus waited, eyes wide as he looked up at the man he'd been waiting on for a reply.
"Connor! Is Negan with them!?"
Connor turned, his face paling. He nodded. "Y-…yeah."
Jesus immediately began back towards Rick and his group. Without a moments delay he advised them strongly. "Negan is here. You need to stay silent. Let me talk to them, stand away with the rest of the Hilltop folk – perhaps he won't notice you all. I need you to understand… None of you can say anything."
"I ain't afraid of this asshole, Jesus." Rick began. "He ain't nothin' to fear."
Jesus paused. His deep blue eyes fell low and almost became teary in nature.
"Quite the opposite, my friend. He IS something to fear."
With that, the entrance gates creaked open and the sound of motorcycles roared into the Hilltop; the sound spewing from their exhausts echoing off the wooden walls. Rick and his group had done their very best to disperse themselves in between those in the Hilltop whom had come to crowd around the scene. Children were shaking – trebling in fear. Daryl's eyes had been centered on the group the moment they had entered, his eyes noting his own customized bike with the son-of-a-bitch who had stolen it from him mounted upon it…. Though this time, he looked different. An iron burn scarred the left side of his face. The skin looked as if it had been seared of with a welding rod or something; bits and pieces still peeling away – particularly exposing his eye that rested loosely in its socket.
A breathless, 'son-of-a-bitch' escaped Daryl's lips and Michonne grabbed him at the wrist as he tried to lurch forward to confront the man whom had robbed him; his eyes now settled on the crossbow that Dwight had been holding.
"Not now." Michonne whispered. "We need to be invisible."
As if on cue, a tall, brooding, muscular man broke from the middle of the flank of bikers. He was cleanly shaven with a maniac-like grin plastered from ear to ear. On his shoulder he had been resting the baseball bat wrapped in barbwire that he was holding in his hand. His leather boots thumped down next to him as he dismount his bike and his large, masculine legs carried him onwards toward Jesus whom was standing with his hands clasped in front of him.
"Negan… I-I didn't know that you were coming?" Jesus began.
"I didn't realise I needed a fucking invitation you cocksucker?" The barbarically large man snorted.
"No… You don't… You're always welcome. I just-…"
"Shut the fuck up. You'd sound a lot better choking on my dick while I skull fuck your half-dead corpse, you hippy cunt. Maybe we can arrange it…." He looked as though he was almost pondering the thought like it had been some kind of sick fantasy, before he snapped his gloved fingers. "But first! Where's that Gregory mother fucker?" he questioned.
Jesus looked warily around, then his eyes flashed up to the Barington House for just a moment; noting Gregory staring petrified out the window.
"He…" he turned his head to meet where Negan had been standing, but the man had already brooded forward and delivered a firm elbow into Jesus's left brow, sending him violently to the floor.
"I see him in the window. Don't even fucking worry." Negan paced onwards, shoving his way through the crowd and onto the stairs of the Barington house. With a firm kick, he send the doors flying open and he let out a mocking call.
"Oh Mr. Gregory…. I'm here to fuck-up your villaaaaaage!"
No response.
Negan had become visibly frustrated by that.
"Hey! Fuckwit! Get down here now before I start smashing skulls in!" he swing his bat outwards, smashing a table clean in half before Gregory finally began stumbling down the stairs in a panic.
"I'm here! Please, Negan! What's the problem?" Gregory began, fretting.
"Your last drop to us. It was fucking short. Where the fuck is the fucking rest?"
Behind Negan, Tara had stumbled from the crowd to help Jesus to his feet – and unfortunately for Rick and his group, Gregory's eye had been caught by it… and in turn… Negan's attention was taken as well.
The biker turned on the heel of his boots, narrowing his eyes as Tara picked Jesus up.
"And who in the fuck are you?" he called out, strolling away from the house and onto the front steps. "In fact…. Who in the fuck is that Samurai bitch as well?" a growl escaped him as he face fell sour.
"These aren't your fucking people, Gregory…."
"N-no… there's a handful that-…" Gregory stammered.
"Point. Them. Out." Negan cut him off .
Gregory stepped forward and reluctantly began pointing each of the members whom weren't his own out, and members of the Saviours began grabbing and restraining them – dropping them to their knees in front of Barington House.
First Tara, then Eric, Heath followed next. Michonne and Daryl then, and Rick and finally Glenn and Rosita.
"Well fee-fi-fo-fum… I thought I smelt some fucking deception in the air today!' He raised his bat into the air, before swing it down and casting it to the left and then to the right, as if he was playing with it like a toy. He stepped out to the line-up, his eyes moving between them all.
"I can't blame you for this fuckery, Gregory. Gotta' blame Jesus for this one. Fucker should have told me this shit when I first got here. But apparently, he thinks he don't gotta fuckin' tell me shit. So, if he's getting a 'Jesus Complex', I gotta put the fucker down…" Negan signalled Dwight to haul Jesus over to him. The scarred man grabbed the bearded man and tossed him to Negan's feet.
A sadistic smile grew and grew and grew until it could grow no more on the bat-wielders face, until his joyful smirk vanished as he raised his bat to deliver justice, and a voice broke his momentum.
"Stop!" Rick has rose from the line-up, a desperate look on his face. "You can't be blamin' him for this! We just got here and I ain't spoken to Jesus yet. Guards only just saw us and we just got lost in the damn excitement of your arrival. If he knew we were here, he'd have told you right away! Gregory only knew who we were 'cause one of the Hilltop scouts spotted us before we got here, and let 'im know we were 'bout to pull-in."
Negan paused, looked down at Jesus who had his eyes closed before finally, he broke his silence with a thunderous laugh. "Well fuck me, mister. Ain't that fucking noble of you!" he grabbed Jesus by the collar of his shirt and tossed him back to Dwight. "Give him a hidin' for good fucking measure."
Dwight of course obliged and began laying into Jesus until he was bruised and bloodied, a concussed ball on the floor.
Turning to face Rick, Negan pointed his bat towards him. "Lucille here and I would love to know your fucking name. So, what's your fucking name?"
Rick swallowed deeply, his eyes a filled with a fiery rage after witnessing Jesus being beaten to a pulp.
"Rick… I'm Rick Grimes. This here's Michonne, Daryl, Heath, Tara, Eric, Glenn and Rosita… We… we're from another group. We just came on out here after stumblin' upon the place on a run."
"I understand what you did, Rick. Standing up and stopping me from killing that bearded fuck. But the thing is… We have a way of doing things around here. And you broke the rhythm of that. You speak when I want you to speak. Now someone's gotta pay the price for your fucking stubbornness and naivety, asshole." He heaved his bat up to his shoulder once more, and grabbed Rick from the line-up, setting him down in front of them all.
"Someone's gotta fucking die so people understand what happens for going astray from the way things are. And so now's the time to fucking speak, as told by Negan." He leaned down so that his mouth was inches from Rick's ear. His voice was loud so that everyone could hear still though.
"So who the fuck dies as an example?"
Rick swallowed heavily again, and he spoke simply. "I do."
Negan let out a bellowing laugh yet again, and the other Saviours joined in.
"No, no, fucking no!" he snorted. "Nobodies being made a martyr of here today. You like making the big calls? You like picking who lives and who dies? Well… Fucking choose one!"
"No." simple words.
Negan smirked, his legs carrying him away from Rick as he approached the line-up. He found himself standing in front of Eric, his eyes looking down at the man who looked up back at him.
"Hey there, fucker."
"Hello si-." Before Eric could get another word out, Negan let a furious blow crack down onto his skull. Blood gushed from the wound that had pretty much split his head in two from top to bottom. Brain mattered splattered the others in the line-up and disgusted cries left those who watched on.
But Negan…. He smiled and laughed like a sick child, continuing his momentum until Eric's skull was nothing. All that remained were partial portions of skin and bone matter that once connected to his neck.
The other survivors in the line-up were visibly shocked and petrified. Tears welled in some, anger in others. But Rick, Rick looked broken and responsible.
"Now Rick, you motherfucker!" Negan began, wiping a hand across his face to clean away some of the blood and brain matter. "Choose one!"
"I ain't chosin'. You killed one of us already!" he appeared infuriated as he tried to stand, but Dwight kicked his knees from under him and sent him face first back into the dirt.
Closing in on Glenn, Negan let out another gleeful laugh. His bat when up, but at the last moment as it came crashing down, he swung left and took the bat to Rosita's head. The fluent momentum and sheer brute force had taken to splitting her head in half like some kind of fruit. Though, the juice was dark red blood. The blood splattered Heath's face, forcing him to close his eyes to shield them from the gore – though – only for a moment. Negan's moment and force had been so great that he'd crashed Lucile into Heath's head as well, caving his temple in and leaving him a bloodied mess on the floor as well; right next to Rosita.
"Home fucking run!" he called out, raising his arms in a victorious fashion as the Saviours cheered him on.
Screams of agony and horror escaped Michonne as she looked on, tears streaming down her face at the pure disgustingness of Negan's murderous crimes. And as much as she had tried to stifle the emotion, she simply couldn't anymore.
Glenn's heavy breathing had turned into sobs.
Daryl cussed out at Negan and a Saviour delivered a firm smack to the side of his face, splitting his lip. Tara had broken down, crying like a child as she watched as those she cared about fell motionless to the floor.
And Rick?
Rick felt tears sting his cheeks for the first time in a long time. Angry, rage-filled tears. He felt so helpless… So at the mercy of Negan. As if everything that had built him up to the man he was today had come crashing down in a few instances.
"You don't fucking get it do you, Rick? You HAVE to choose… Or I'm gonna choose to kill them all. They aren't shit to me. Fuck 'em. They're sport. So if you want any of them going home… You fucking choose someone!"
And then, as Negan readied to pace the remaining line-up once more, Rick let out a defeated and agonized cry.
"Wait!... Wait…" he paused a moment. "I'll choose." Tears streamed his face as he said it. That one name. "T-…Tara."
Negan called out joyfully, "Hoorah! Ding, fucking, ding, we've got a winner!"
Tara's crying had stopped as she heard Rick utter her name, and she looked up at him. "Rick! Fuck… RICK! PLEASE… NO… PLEASE! YOU BASTARD! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" her words were broken as Negan grabbed her by the throat and lifted her into the air.
He carried her struggling body right in front of Rick, and dropped her to the floor so that she was on her knees once more.
With the bat, he tilted her chin up so that she looked right into Rick's eyes.
He looked back into them, unable to blink or look away. He sobbed an apology to her, and then, as abrupt as all of this had been in the first place – it was over.
Negan put Lucile straight into the back of Tara's head and the blood splashed forward into Rick's face. Her beaten head fell into his lap, drenching him in blood, and Negan let out a bellowing laugh for the last time.
"You see Rick, I always get my way….."
Rick and his group were broken. They were all completely in shock and unable to move or react to anything. They just knelt… defeated.
And then, as quick as he had come, Negan looked to Gregory and pointed his bloodied bat his way, "Next time your drop is short, this'll be your people." And he was back on his bike and on his way to leave.
Though, it seemed that Daryl had found his legs. In the mayhem, he had cut his binds with a small, sharp rock he'd found in the dirt and launched into action. He charged towards Rick, grabbed his gun and pulled it from the broken mans body. Standing to full height, he cocked the hammer back and aimed the handcannon straight for Negan.
He readied. He was breathing heavily, but he was certain he'd make the shot.
Then he noted Dwight's eyes locked on him and the crossbow that he had stolen aimed right back his way; bolt loaded and all.
Daryl shifted his aim to Dwight. He breathed, he pulled the trigger.
Dwight launched the bolt.
Silence was in the air and time had frozen in itself…
The wind was non-existent. It was a matter of who loosed first. And Daryl had no clue.
