Was writing something else then I vomited this up instead.


There were very few absolutes in this world. Very few things that Negan believed could never be challenged. He'd say the first one was his huge dick, and yeah that was on there, but it wasn't number one. Number one was that Rick Grimes was never supposed to die. The world could lose the archer, the widow or even the samurai chick, but the world was never supposed to lose Rick Grimes. World might as well end all together if that happened.

The only reason Negan had stuck around was because of Rick. He could have spent all his time planning and executing an escape, but Rick was distracting, so Negan had stayed. He liked their talks, liked seeing Rick's pretty face through the bars. Eventually, Rick's words began to make a bit of sense. His vision suddenly seemed tangible and although Negan would never admit it, he began to realize it was Rick Grimes who deserved to lead the good people into the future. The better man had won on the field that day.

But one day, Rick didn't come down with his meal. This happened sometimes. Sometimes Michonne or even Aaron until his accident would bring him his food. It was someone different, though. He didn't know this person. Rick would return eventually, but the days went on and Rick did not come down those stairs. "Where's Rick?" Negan had demanded the scared looking little shit brining his dinner. The guy didn't answer, the food nearly clattering to the floor as he handed it to Negan. This continued for sometime with no answer, until Michonne returned looking gaunt and grim as she reached the bottom step.

"Finally," Negan breathed out in relief. "A familiar fucking face," He relaxed back on the thin mattress, hands behind head, the picture of relaxation as if he had not spent the last couple of weeks shitting bricks waiting for Rick. Michonne watched him with those grim eyes, striding forward with his plate. "Where's Rick at? Too good to see me?" Negan asked. Michonne did not offer an answer, handing him his food with her lips pulled into a thin line. Negan barely noticed, shoveling the food away, just realizing how fucking hungry he was. Michonne waited for him to finish, arms crossed.

Negan finished his food, arely tasting the beans as he pushed the plate aside, glancing up at Michonne. "Tell Rick to stop being such a pussy an-"

"Rick's gone, Negan." Michonne cut him off and Negan blinked before narrowing his eyes at her.

"What? Where the fuck did he-"

Again, Michonne cut him off. "He died. There was a herd and he was wounded trying to divert them...bled out in my arms." For a moment she looked away, a rare vulnerability in her eyes as she stared down at her hands, which for a moment, Negan saw painted crimson. He saw Rick standing outside the cell, goading him, scolding him and making Negan want to do better. All at once he couldn't breathe. It was like a sucker punch to the chest and the dull roaring in his ears had turned into a screaming laugh, his laugh he realized. He was laughing, laughing loud and unhinged as Michonne stared at him with a disgusted shocked expression on her gorgeous face. She backed towards the steps, turning on her heel and charging upstairs. Someone was sobbing, he could hear it over his laughter, loud unhinged sobs that echoed through the cell. It took him a second to realize it was him; laughing and sobbing uncontrollably and unable to breathe. He gagged through the laughing sobs, retching and feeling as if he was underwater and choking.

He fell back onto the cement, barely feeling his head smack against the floor as he giggled at the ceiling, eyes welling and snot running down his face. He could hear Rick's voice in his ear, that sweet honey drawl preaching for a better world.

'Ten seconds for Carl...'

'Just getting it ready for me...'

'Just getting it ready for me...'

'Just getting it ready for me...'

He remained on the floor and did not move for a very long time.

After Rick died, Negan saw no reason to stick around. Saw no reason to be in the places he had been, sit in that cell day after day, knowing Rick Grimes would never walk down those steps again. So, the first chance he had, he made a break for it. He had wanted to visit Rick's grave, wanting to at least say goodbye or some shit, but he didn't know where he was buried, didn't know what he would even say or if he would be able to get the words out.

He couldn't find Lucille and wasn't that just fucking ironic? Lost her once and now lost her again. There was no time to stick around and look, he knew they would be tracking him down, so he booked it. He managed to get his hands on some sort of club thing. A mace? Had a bunch of spikes sticking out of it and when he picked it up, something just felt right about it. Lucille 2.0.

There was no reason to stay around. No Rick to guide him anymore, no Rick to keep him wanting a better world. It was a fucking dog eat dog world and Rick had been torn from it unfairly and it was a constant itch under his skin that he hadn't been there that day. Hadn't pulled Rick to safety, hadn't shown him that he wanted to change. Now, there was no hope. As far as Negan was concerned it had died with Rick.

That night he stole a truck and left Alexandria behind him forever, staring into the rearview mirror as if hoping Rick would pop up at the gate. The gate remained empty and Negan kept driving. He didn't know far he had gotten before he ran into a group of people. They were haggard and exhausted and Negan had been nearly jovial in his gleeful greeting. It was like the Saviors all over again. Negan rebuilt and the Saviors rose again. Far from Alexandria, far from Rick's quiet little grave that Negan never got to see. He hoped he was at least with his boy.

They began building a network and coming across other group of survivors. The cycle would begin again, but Negan was careful this time, he didn't let the ones with that quiet strength live. Best to kill them early before they could get the chance to make him remember. He avoided lookingat those kids, seeing Carl Grimes glaring back at him in disappointment. Somethings changed. There was no Arat or Simon or Dwight, Instead there was Rob, Jaime and Renee. There were no wives, Negan no longer thought he could handle that shit. Somethings stayed the same. His men knelt to him, they were all Negan and he had his weapon, different but effective, and extension of himself. He wondered about his other Lucille, but whenever he considered going to find her and raiding Alexandria with his boys, the thought of trampling over Rick's grave stopped him. That land had become holy and although he was by no means a holy man, it felt sacrilegious to bring violence to Rick's home. Negan had spent enough quiet nights worshipping him, he was a deity all his own.

Life went on. When his boys caught a rowdy bunch, it was showtime once more. He strode around the group, all on their knees and whistled a greeting, approaching the leader, a squat man with eyes the wrong color.

"Hello, my name's Negan." He greeted. "And these are the Saviors." He indicated to his crew. The Saviors sniggered, all restless and hungry. "And this," Negan looked at the mace in his hand, he stroked a gloved hand down it with reverence. His eyes trailed down it before shooting up and silently choosing the sacrifices. "This here is Rick, and he's a thirsty boy."


I had this sudden thought of a recessing Negan. I know some people might hope that Rick's death makes Negan want to do better, but I see him as the type to go two steps back if that's the case. Also, had the idea of Negan claiming a new weapon and naming it after his lost loved one from the new world.