|WARNING—ALL manner of adult content, which may or may not include, but is not limited to gore, violence, language, assault, suicide, self-mutilation, and rape. Please be aware of your own sensitivities before proceeding. I will include a warning at the beginning of each chapter that contains the most sensitive of material.|

|AUTHOR'S NOTE: Part III of what was supposed to be only one part. No name for the trilogy, but now with an added character perspective. As always, thanks for reading, and thanks to those two followers who have reviewed and commented since Day One. You guys are amazing. To the new peeps, I hate to say it like this, but for real, if you guys like what you read, please review. If you want to talk to me personally about anything story-related, my inbox is open. I love reading feedback about your thoughts concerning the chapters/characters/story/etc., constructive and the like, but please, no hate. I seriously do love those reviews where you speculate on what's going to happen and tell me your reactions. The longer the review, the better, because it helps me to see what you like and what you're hoping to eventually read. Enjoy, and to those who have been with me since the first installment, let's have fun on this last rodeo. Love, PaintedViolin|

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MILTON

He could not claim to be anything if he was not a man of his word and everyone who knew him also knew he would make good on any promise he proposed. It was this unwavering dedication to justice, equality, honesty, and relentless truth that had made him the spokesman for the council that governed the neighboring territories of survivors. From advisor to ambassador to just short of a leader, he had come far and done well for himself despite having a fear of public speaking and most other things.

He had gained the trust of his people and lost it several times over, but most recently he had gained it back after choosing to be a merciful and forgiving leader instead of a tyrant who made threats to anyone planning to double-cross him. If not him, who would speak out for humanity's sense of justice? If they were only living to survive and didn't at least try to maintain a grip on the civilization that had come before them, then what was the point? There had to be some sort of system for dealing with wrong-doers, but that system also had to work in a way that society wouldn't have tolerated, had it still existed. In what world would a murderer walk free when directly faced with his crimes? Not in the old world, but that system hadn't exactly benefited mankind, either.

The system Milton and the other eight council members had agreed upon was to take into consideration a system Merle Dixon had first introduced Milton to: an eye for an eye. No debt went unpaid and as long as a debt was owed, death was not an option. It seemed to work well enough, especially in the months following the fall of the Savior compound, now known as Station B where Celie and her Camos resided for the majority of the time, occasionally making the trek out to the prison or Woodbury to exchange goods.

After the Saviors' reign had ended, Milton and his people offered help in reconstructing the damaged compound in exchange for having all of Celie's body slaves set free, for Milton refused to barter with anyone who used humans as means of currency. Milton himself offered to help rebuild the compound in order to relieve those slaves of their bondage and though Celie seemed intent on starting another war to keep her human possessions, she eventually gave in. She and her people were dangerous neighbors to have, but the prison and Woodbury were more than enough to overthrow them if they should ever have a change of alliegance.

As for those Saviors that had survived the initial battle, they had continued to form guerilla groups and attack the three locations as if to remind the residents that there was still a threat outside their walls. Nearly all of those people had been captured, put on trial, and executed, though some managed to commit suicide before being apprehended and others were put on probation to earn back their freedom. Out of the eighteen or so individuals who had evaded the original mass-capture, only two remained with Milton's people: Reece and Liddel, both of whom were put on a one-year trial period, sleeping in a locked cell, kept under guard, and made to do hard labor to prove that they had given up the ways of the Saviors. Liddel had even gone so far as to construct a gallows as an alternative to firing squad after seeing four of his former allies be put to death from gunshots. Reece, on the other hand, seemed to have taken her time serving as a Savior as a personal insult now and any mention of what she did before she came to the prison was strictly off-limits.

Those two earned back their rights thanks to Milton and if Milton had not had a say, they too would have met their deaths, though without trial. Though he was no expert in law, Milton had done his best to study the court system and find out what had worked well before and what would need to be amended. What worked was giving the individual a second chance if the severity of their crimes did not amount to more than their own life's worth. This was the promise Milton gave every soul to walk into his domain.

He had seen the consequences of his actions and was forced to live with many day-to-day as he saw Asher adjust to his life with only one hand and as he walked past what was slowly becoming a mass grave on the far side of the prison yard. He refused to let anyone else be buried on that turf as a product of his mistakes because he wasn't just someone who took the general population's well-being into consideration anymore. Along with Merle and Andrea, he was more or less the person his people looked to as he had looked to Rick Grimes three years prior. And with Rick's daughter now under her adopted name as Milton's own child, Milton felt that he owed it to his deceased friend to be fair, but ruthless to anyone who threatened these people under his protection.

Hesitation was a luxury Milton could no longer afford as he once had. Lives depended on his quick decisions, not his mercy. Only in victory could he then choose whether or not to spare human life, but when faced immediately with a threat, he had to act as thoughtlessly as Merle could and place a bullet in his opponent. A simple pull of the trigger and he guaranteed his people another day of safety.

Which was why he was now being given looks of confusion, betrayal, and fury as he called for everyone to hold fire at the sight of a man standing in the middle of the road in front of the front gate. One arm was raised high to show surrender and the other was wrapped around his chest as if he had suffered a mortal wound, but as Milton stepped closer, pistol trained unwavering on the man with the concentration needed to shoot, he saw that a child was actually pressed to the man's chest, asleep and camouflaged into the black leather coat the man wore. Hanging from a customized sheath at his belt was a barbed-wire bat and the sight of it sent Milton hurtling back through time and space to slam face-first into a series of traumatic experiences. He forced himself to remain in the present as his PTSD threatened to undo him.

"Not a step closer," he warned, making sure the man could see his weapon. "You idiot, you know the consequences of coming back."

"I know, but I came back anyway. He's sick," said Negan, gesturing at the child hanging from the harness on his chest. "I needed a doctor. "

Milton had a clear shot at him; he could fire and not hit the child. He had taken a vow, swore to his people that this man before him would die on sight with no warning if he ever crossed into their borders again. He knew, he knew, goddammit.

"I know I've got no right asking for favors, but this is worth dyin' for. He's just a baby—"

"Show me both of your hands," called Milton.

Thrusting his other hand into the air, Negan looked pleadingly to Milton and another wave of painful memories crept up on Milton. Shouting from within a cell, dead bodies, a man screaming for his child…

Negan looked almost indistinguishable from the man Milton had exiled nearly two years ago except his facial hair was shorter and with a few grey whiskers added in. He was still limber, healthy, and alive, but this child with him completed a picture Milton didn't think would ever exist.

"He's my boy, Milton. Look at him; he's mine. He looks just like me; you can see that he's mine. His momma didn't make it and I've had him for a while, but he got a fever and I couldn't bring it down. He needs help fast or he's not gonna make it either."

"What's his name?"

"Finley."

"Hold fire," said Milton again as he sensed the guards around him getting antsy, but Asher gave him a look of pure rage. "Hold, dammit, he has a kid with him."

"Milton, come on, man…" Negan begged. "I know what the cost of comin' back is; I knew as soon as I started walkin', but he wasn't gonna make it out there with just me watchin' over him. If I've gotta die so that you'll take my boy, then that's what's gonna happen, but I need your word that you'll take him."

"Hold him up high, directly above your head," commanded Milton. "Reece, go check him."

Reece went out, pistol drawn, and gave Negan a thorough and extensive pat-down for any weapons, even going as far as to check the child's diaper, but from the look on her face, all she found in the diaper was diarrhea. In addition to a rather large knife, all that surfaced was Lucille.

"Keep your hands on the boy and step inside," said Milton.

Clutching the boy to him, Negan stepped forward, eyes darting around to every person with a weapon on him. "How do I know your people aren't gonna gun me down as soon as I turn my back on 'em?" he asked.

"They won't. But if you do anything, make the slightest move that isn't approved by me, I will gun you down. This is your only warning."

They cleared a path for Negan to walk between them, never lowering their weapons as Negan strode up the dirt road and headed for the courtyard. As he walked, Milton heard the boy coughing and his heart ached for the child as he heard the pain in that cough. Speaking into his radio, he alerted Hershel and Doctor Kimura that he was bringing in a sick infant, then ordered Negan to quicken his pace to get the boy inside.

He felt his people watching him, waiting and even hoping for Negan to go for one of their weapons so that Milton would be forced to put him down, but his boy must have been enough of an incentive to completely respect and respond to Milton's wishes. He didn't step a millimeter out of place as he headed for his destination, patting his son's back to clear his passages.

They had passed into the courtyard and were moving toward the door into Cellblock A's common area when Milton spotted two children on the overpass above their heads, both peering down curiously at the newcomer. Negan stopped at the sound of their small footsteps on the concrete overhead and shielded his eyes against the afternoon sun to get a better look at them.

What he saw was a nearly five-year-old girl with wavy brown hair holding the hand of a toddler still in training underwear (and privately, Milton had to sigh that the boy had taken his pants off again to wander half-naked through the prison). The boy had mousy brown hair not at all the same color as the girl's, and his eyes were close-set in a watery bluish-grey. He had thin lips and a dimple in his left cheek, identical to his father's.

"Is he yours?" asked Negan, watching intently as the girl swung her arm back and forth, still holding her little brother's hand.

Milton paused, and then lowered his weapon, instructing everyone else to tighten security around Negan. He didn't want Judith seeing him kill a man, if it came to it. On the pretense of telling her to take her brother back inside, he muttered to Negan, "Yes, he's mine. His name is Oliver."

"I knew you could do it, man. I hoped you would," said Negan, and he sounded genuine.

"Uncle Negan!"

Milton's stomach sprang into his throat as Judith recognized the man standing below her. It had been too much to hope that she would forget Negan in the weeks, the months following his exile. She never asked about him, never said a word relating to him, but the drawing she had made that showed a stick figure labeled "Negan" remained tacked up in her room and he caught her staring at it more often than not. She had never forgotten him, only waited with silent hope that he would come back, as he promised he would the day he thought he was to be executed.

Judith released her brother's hand, ran to the emergency staircase, threw open the door, and nearly fell down the entire flight in her haste to reach the courtyard and launch herself at Negan. At the risk of becoming a ruddy mess of tears, Negan clung to Judith and rocked her in his arms for everyone to see, careful to avoid squishing his son. This was indeed a very different man from the one who had been exiled. Negan never let anyone but Milton and Andrea see him do such humane things as cry.

"Hey, darlin'," he choked, kissing Judith's forehead. "How's my girl?"

"You went away," said Judith, planting a sloppy kiss in return on Negan's cheek.

"But I'm back. I told you I would be."

Judith pulled back to look at the inflamed face of the sick child strapped to Negan.

"Who's that?" she asked, peering intently at the boy.

"This is my boy. He's sick, so I had to come to Hershel to make him better."

"Can I help?"

Shaking away the remaining tear trails on his face, Negan smiled at her. "Bless your heart, of course you can, sweetheart." He glanced at Milton, and whatever look Milton had on his face must have warned him off, for he cleared his throat and directed Judith back to the overpass. "But first you've gotta go get your brother and help him find his pants. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, but I'm coming right back," Judith promised. She went to retrieve Oliver and took him back inside, all the while glancing back over her shoulder to make sure Negan was still there as if afraid that he would disappear the second she looked away. Only when the door shut behind her did Negan let his head drop as he took a great, shuddering breath.

"Get up," said Asher, nudging Negan with his rifle.

Negan came to his feet and went to the common room door. Opposed to what Milton thought would be the two doctors waiting for him with their supplies set up, he instead saw Andrea sent as an envoy and he saw her eyes gloss over in vacancy as she too was hit with a fierce recollection of those terrible events that occurred the last time she had seen Negan. Mechanically, her hand went to her side where her pistol sat and Negan pulled up short as he saw her motions.

"Andrea…" Milton called, and her eyes refocused on him, then once again to Negan. They communicated with one look of understanding. All she had to do was see the child in Negan's arms to know why Milton had let him through the gate, but she also knew that if Negan had not had the child, Milton would not have hesitated to shoot him.

"Hey," said Negan timidly, as uncertain as Milton as to how Andrea would react once he began speaking.

"Is he yours?" asked Andrea.

"He is."

"Hershel and Doctor Kimura will look at him on Death Row," said Andrea. "I'll let them know you're coming." She hurried out of the room.

"I'll take him from here," Milton told his people. "Return to your posts."

"I don't think so," said Asher.

Milton did a double take, for Asher had never so blatantly refused orders before and not only that, but he challenged Milton in front of a host of others, which meant Milton had to either back down and show that he was incapable of leadership (and give rise to the doubts they were starting to have about him yet again), or shut Asher's insubordination down.

"I'll take him from here, I said," Milton repeated.

"No, you won't. You didn't shoot him the second you laid eyes on him, so how are we supposed to trust that you'll shoot him if he gets the upper hand on you and steals your gun?"

"The only reason I didn't shoot him is because he has a sick boy strapped to his chest. He found the one loophole in that order I gave him to stay away. I'm not going to shoot him down in cold blood for coming to us for help for his son. He knows what coming back means; he's not stupid. And he knows that he'd better not try anything or I will shoot him."

"Bullshit. Remember when Merle came back after all that time away? It's the same damn thing. He's going to bring something worse down on us unless we deal with him right now."

"Then shoot him," Milton invited. "You've never killed a man before, so it should be more than enough to compensate in killing Negan after what he did to you. Giving you everything you needed and training you to fight, how awful of him."

"He did worse to you—"

"Exactly. He did worse to me. So, do you think I have less cause than you to kill him for daring to come back? I do, but I won't, not yet. And if I have the self control to hold fire, you should too because he never laid a finger on you. He treated you like a guest and gave you valuable skills and if he hadn't, you wouldn't have survived that battle."

Struggling to come up with a counter-argument, Asher watched Negan eyeing him uncertainly.

"If you think I'm not fit to handle this situation, give me a better reason than the one you just gave me. You think I'd put Negan's needs above my people's safety when I had Merle stab me in the stomach to give him and Andrea a better chance at survival? I don't think you realize the sacrifices I've made for my people, which includes you, Asher. I stayed at the Savior compound when Merle escaped because you were still there and you couldn't run for it. I put others before myself and it's cost me multiple times, but I still do it, and that extends to Negan's son because that boy doesn't know what his father did and I'll be damned if I turn them both away and let the boy die for his father's crimes. So you can shoot him now, but if you do, you might as well kill the kid too because if you take that responsibility in murdering his father, you also take that responsibility in caring for the boy after and I know you aren't equipped to do that. Or, you can return to your post like I told you and let me handle this because in case you don't remember, Negan gave up the war on my behalf. He's not going to hurt me, and not when his son's life is on the line."

Asher backed down, giving Milton a look that promised to find a new way to demand Negan's death. The others seemed satisfied with Milton's argument and went quietly back to their assignments, leaving Milton to escort Negan to Death Row, which now seemed ironic and foreboding.

"Did you know he was gonna back off?" asked Negan when Asher had gone.

"Did you think he was actually going to shoot?" Milton countered. "He doesn't have it in him yet. He knows I was right in that you made sure he was treated better than I ever was, so he has no argument with you other than that you killed some of his friends. I'm not saying he wasn't close to those people, but he's only severely attached to two people here and since both are still breathing, he doesn't have cause to kill you. Let's go."

Milton made Negan keep fifteen steps ahead of him as he led him to Death Row and once inside, he directed Negan to a cell on the ground floor that had once been a Savior's before they were executed. Keeping him at gunpoint, Milton pulled the cell door closed and locked it and only then did he lower his weapon.

"I'll go get you some water, but when I come back—"

"Would you tell Andrea that I'd like to talk to her, if she'd let me? That look she gave me—I wasn't expectin' a red carpet welcome, hugs, kisses, and rainbows, but I wasn't expectin' that either."

"How do you think she should have reacted?"

"I don't know, and that's what's frustrating. What d'you say to the guy you banished under threat of death because he fucked up your life and killed some've your friends? I thought we parted on good terms, or as good as could be expected, given the situation. Hell, the last time I saw her, she let me hug her…"

"She's had time to think about the severity of what you did to her and what your actions led to. We lost our firstborn under your watch, and more. We found out from Merle that it was Lexi who took the shot that should have killed Andrea; Lexi was furious with you for turning her away once Andrea arrived. You disposed of her because you were interested in Andrea and my son died for it. That's not an easy thing to live with, especially not for Andrea. She lost the baby because you scorned another woman for her."

Negan sat down on the cot inside the cell and ran his hand through his hair. "Shit." He unbuckled Finley from his chest and laid the boy down on the cot beside him. "Shit, Milton, I'm sorry."

"I know you are, but it won't bring back my son, and it won't change your situation or the way Andrea feels about you. She's had time to learn to hate you, so don't be surprised if she stays clear of this cellblock. I'll talk to her, but she was as ready as those other people to kill you when she saw you. That should tell you that I'm your only defender right now, so be very aware of your actions while you're here."

He left Negan to grab a canteen and a squeezable fruit pouch for him and when he returned, Hershel and Kimura were waiting outside the cell. They said nothing about the fact that it was Negan who had brought the sick child, but Milton could read both of them easily: Hershel was disapproving and Kimura was terrified. Milton opened the cell door and ordered Negan to go to the bars where Milton handcuffed one wrist on a long chain to them so that Negan could roam freely about the cell, but was still ultimately chained to the barred wall.

Acting as guard, Milton stood by while Hershel and Kimura assessed Finley and after several long minutes in which Negan could have overtaken both of the doctors or done something else, had he had a mind to, they reached a conclusion while Negan sat on the toilet awaiting their verdict.

"He has diphtheria," said Hershel at long last. "Swollen glands in his neck, coughin', thick, grayish mucus-like stuff in his throat, fever."

"Okay, so how do you treat it?"

"Typically with penicillin or antitoxin, but we don't have either here. The next best bet is to raid that medical school thirty miles up the road, halfway to Boggs' Lake. And even then, it'll be expired medicine, so there's no guarantee. And on top've that, the school's been overrun for months—"

"Let me go," said Negan. "I don't need a gun. Just gimme my bat, a knife, and a car and I'll do it myself. I'll go now—"

"By the time you get there, it'll be dark and it's not worth the risk at night. Wait 'til mornin'."

"He may not have that much time."

"He does. How long ago did the fever start?"

"Maybe two and a half, three days ago?"

"Then he's gonna hold out. I have somethin' I can give 'im in the meantime an' Doc Kimura an' I'll keep watch on 'im while you're gone. You can leave around four in the mornin'. But even if you get the medicine, there's still a chance he won't pull through, so long's you understand that."

"But not gettin' him that medicine would lower his chances," Negan reasoned. "I'm going."

"I'll go with you," Milton offered. "I'm just waiting for Merle to get back from hunting."

"You mean he doesn't know I'm here yet?" asked Negan. "Shit, he's gonna be out for blood when he finds out. As soon as that son've a bitch takes a look at me, he's gonna go off the walls, you know he is."

"He won't touch you, I'll see to it," Milton promised. "In the meantime, rest. I'll be back for you at ten to four."

"You don't have to go," said Negan. "It's not your responsibility and I'm not askin' you to put yourself out there for my boy. But I'm going, no matter what. I can't lose another kid."

"That's why I'm going with you. Ten 'til, be up and ready."

Milton found Judith waiting in the hallway outside the cellblock, asking once again if she could help care for Finley. She had such an innocent, earnest look on her face that Milton found it difficult to say no, but she had already been exposed to the boy and if she had somehow caught the virus, she was in as much danger as Negan's son. In fact, the entire prison was at risk now that Milton had allowed Negan inside the gate. He had thought that the boy's fever was just a common illness in children that could be easily treated, but without the proper vaccinations, it could be deadly. In trying to assist Negan, he had just put his people in danger.

He couldn't have turned back now if he'd wanted to. He had to go with Negan to get that medicine for everyone, including his family. Illness was a risk he couldn't counter with force or wit.

Picking up Judith, he carried her away, feeling chilled as Asher's dire warning that Negan would bring something worse on them suddenly dawned on him.