I'm standing on the catwalk overlooking everything. Well, maybe not everything. I have been watching Alice for quite some time now. She's examining the undead that we have chained outside the fences. It doesn't take a genius to know she's looking to see if she recognizes any of them. The thing that separates me from just about everyone is, I didn't lose anyone when everything went to shit. In fact, I live my life pretty much the same. Leading others, fucking as much as possible, and dealing harshly with those that get in my way.

"You've been doing this for hours," Tara tells Alice.

Alice doesn't respond and pulls another undead close to the fence.

"How come you don't fear them as the others do?"

Alice lets go of the undead and turns to face Tara. "The real threat isn't them."

"Honestly, the living scare me more, too. The things people do to each other now are terrible. Especially to the women."

"You look unwell."

Tara laughs. "Always direct and to the point with you."

"I will take your shift tomorrow so you may rest."

She gives Alice a hug.

I lick my lips and take this to another place in my head. To a point that when I snap back into reality, Alice and Tara are gone. I skim the courtyard and find Alice sitting on her bedroll. It looks like she's reading. What am I going to do when she earns enough points for a room? Do I really deny her that? This isn't me. I don't do shit like this. I let out a sigh and push myself away from the wall, going back inside.

"Here," I tell Dwight, handing him a bottle of eye drops.

"Thanks. I've just been using water." Dwight puts a few drops in his eye and tucks the bottle away in his vest pocket.

"What are you doing out here?" I pry.

"Cooler out here."

"You have got to be fucking fucking me," I murmur.

"Weird thing to lie about." Dwight looks at me, then turns his head over towards the fence. "Holy shit..."

I take off for the east side of the fence as it starts to bow. "Get the others," I yell back at Dwight. When I make it to the weak part of the fence, it's almost too late. Three undead have already made their way inside. I pull one by the arm, shoving it through the crack and back to the other side when I realize, this isn't the only weak spot, and the weight of the undead is bringing the fence down faster. I push back on the steel hoping I can hold it off long enough before the others get here because if this goes down, we're fucked and I will not die trapped like some fucking rat. "Motherfucker," I yell as one tries to bite me. I kick it away and when it falls, I stomp on its head. Another one lunges at me. I grab it by the shoulders and shove it against the fence. The fence cuts into the undead as its skin starts to shred apart in my hands. It's the vilest thing I have ever fucking smelled in my life. More undead come through the fence. I pull my knife out but it slips out of my hand and just out of my reach. "Oh for fuck's sake!" My arms shake as they strain to keep up the buckling steel and those fucks chained to the other side. One grabs my side but I'm helpless to defend myself. It snarls at me unhinging its jaw like a snake. I spit right in its face, then brace myself for what's about to come. The undead topples over as it's struck in the temple with a knife. I look over my shoulder and see Alice hurrying to me. She throws another knife and kills an undead I didn't even notice on the other side of me. I focus my attention on keeping the fence up while she kills what's left.

Her small hands grip the chain link and she helps me push back.

"Alice, you gotta go get the others!"

"If the fence collapses, the weight alone will kill you."

"I don't fucking care, that's an order, do you understand me?"

She looks up at me, and for a brief moment, there's a slight panic on her face.

The front doors of Sanctuary fling open and outrun my men.

Dwight goes across the courtyard and gets into one of the trucks.

Alice closes her eyes and pushes as hard as she can on the fence.

Tim is the first to reach us, followed by Marshall, then Donnie.

"Where's Gary?" Tim yells.

"He better be fucking dead," I grunt.

Gary is in charge of making sure the fence is secure.

Dwight pulls up and uses the truck to help support the weight of the fence.

I motion for him to bring the truck forward along the fence until it's back in place. "Go find Gary," I demand.

"I'm right here, what happened?"

I grab Gary by the shirt and pull him against me. "You sorry fuck, you almost got us all killed!" I toss him to the side. "Now clean this shit up!"

"Yes, S—s—s—"

"Shut the fuck up, Gary!" I pick up my knife and shove it back down into its sheath.

Dwight gets out of the truck and walks over to me. "Are you bit?"

"No, just on the other end of a fucking meat grinder," I snap, flinging the blood and rotting flesh from my hands.

"Oh, Christ," Tim chokes, covering his nose and hurrying back inside.

"Donnie, help Gary. I want this fence secure. Marshall, make sure this incompetent motherfucker does his fucking job."

"Yes, Sir," Marshall nods.

"That was too fucking close," Dwight says.

"You think?" I snap, moving my arms outward.

He looks me over, repulsed by the stench. "I'll help them get the fence up," he says, walking over to it.

I look around for Alice. "Alice?" I call. My eyes widen and I go over to the truck. Did Dwight run her over? I grab her boot and pull her from under the truck.

"Ow," she whines, hitting her head on the running board.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Retrieving my knives from the undead," she frowns, rubbing her head. She sits up and looks me over.

I wait for a comment about the way I smell, but it doesn't come.

She gets to her feet and puts her knives in her vest.

I don't usually thank people, but this is well deserved. She saved my fucking life. Still, I don't get a reaction from her even after I say it. I let out an irritated sigh and walk back to the parlor.

"Oh gross," Amber gags, covering her mouth.

I take her by the arm. "Now I know who's going to clean me off."

"You can't be serious, you smell disgusting," Sherry laughs, turning the page in her book.

I push Amber back down to the lounge. "On second thought," I point at the bathroom.

Sherry rolls her eyes, shutting her book.

I walk over to her and start to sit down on her bed.

"Alright, I'm going, just don't get this shit in my bed!" She springs up and follows me into the bathroom. "What the hell happened?"

I flip on the shower and take off my shirt. "The fence fucking gave in, there was undead fucking everywhere. Jesus Christ, I almost died."

Sherry loses her cold-hearted stare and takes my shirt from me, setting it on the counter.

I let out a sigh and have a seat on the edge of the bathtub.

She kneels down and helps me out of my boots.

"Stop, no sense in both of us covered in this shit."

She stands up and gets a rag, ignoring me, and wiping off my face.

I stand up, moving her away. "Every woman in my life is a pain in the dick. None of you listen worth a goddamn," I bark, giving her my knife to clean off, too.

"You're the crazy one that went and took five wives."

I know she's trying to be funny, but I ain't in the fucking mood. I press my hands to the countertop and lower my head. "Don't touch me," I tell her as she starts to rub my back.

"Negan, you're just a little rat—"

"Rattled?" I snap, standing up straight. "I ain't fucking rattled. If it's my time, so fucking be it, but dying because we have people too incompetent to secure a fucking fence is un-fucking-acceptable. Fuck, I can't be in every fucking place here to make sure people's jobs are done and still clear or scavenge!"

"No one expects you to."

"Everyone expects me to," I yell.

"You're a good leader—"

"Save that bullshit for someone else. I'm good at manipulating fear to make these people believe I'm a good leader."

"Fine, call it whatever you want. We're surviving and that's all that matters. Are you done feeling sorry for yourself?"

I fold my arms.

"Fuck you, Sherry. I ain't feeling fucking sorry for myself," she mocks me in this ridiculous tone.

"I don't sound like that," I murmur.

She laughs, playfully shoving my shoulder.

My eyes drop. "Hand. Off."

"You gonna tell me what's really bothering you?"

"You know I'm not."

"Are you ever going to let anyone in?"

"No."

She clears her throat, taking her hand from me. "For someone who cheated death, you sure are grouchy."

"You don't get it, do you, Sherry?"

"No, I don't. Please, fill me in!"

"You know how Julius Caesar died?"

"What?"

"Julius Caesar."

"I know what you said, what does that have any–"

"Answer the question."

"He was stabbed."

"By whom?"

"His own men."

"Exactly."

She gives me a breathed laugh. "You can't be serious. Look, you're just overwhelmed and you're not thinking clearly."

"Maybe I am, but I'm also not above thinking any one of them would off me in a second."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because I would."

"Negan, you have got to have a level of trust within your men. You can't think every mistake is intentional."

I drop my arms to my side.

"And no one is going to stab you. You don't lead by tyranny."

"But I do."

Sherry grabs a hold of my face by my cheeks. "You need to pull it together or I am not letting go, and you can piss and moan all you want."

I guess almost dying did fuck me up a bit. "Christ, you're right."

"I'm always right. You're just too stubborn to listen."

I narrow my eyes at her. "You can go back to reading."

Sherry gets my boots and puts them on the counter. "Nah, it wouldn't be a Saturday night if I wasn't scrubbing entrails off something of yours."

I give her a wide-toothed grin. "I can think of something for you to scrub."

"That's the other girls' department."

I snicker and finish undressing myself, getting in the shower.

"Sir," Carson whispers.

"Go the fuck away. I'm sleeping," I groan, putting my face into the crease of my elbow.

"I know you are, but I have an idea for supplies." He grabs my oil lamp and sets a map on my bed.

I sigh and open my eyes, peering up from my arm.

"We haven't touched this entire area. The bigger cities have probably been picked through, so I think our best chance is a hundred miles from here."

"You want me to travel a hundred fucking miles on a hunch? Lay off all those fucking pills because you've lost your goddamn mind."

"Sir, we've been lucky with the weather, but we're going into another hurricane season. We don't have any antibiotics. If a hurricane disables our ability to get supplies from Hilltop or even go outside, we're talking two, three and a half days tops before people start dying, especially with a sickness we can't control. Tara is already ill from what the others are saying."

I push myself up and take the map. "Wake up who you can. Meeting in twenty."

"Yes, Sir."

I climb on top of the hood of one of our main trucks. "Hurry it the fuck up people. It's going to be a long ass day." I skim the crowd to see who all is here. "Two groups. Group one. Mark, Marshall, Tim, and Vic. Go over to the Hilltop and start clearing since we've pushed the herd closer to that area." I don't need any other reasons as to why I'm not getting my supplies. "Group two. Dwight, Alice, and myself. Supply run," I instruct, then climb down. I know I'm getting desperate because we've never gone out this far for a supply run.

"Negan?" Alice asks after everyone scatters.

"You should show me some fucking respect and address me as Sir like the others do," I respond, setting Lucille down in the truck.

"Sir, I was wondering if I could be on the clearing team?" Alice stammers.

"The teams are decided, get in the truck."

"Marshall said that he would–"

I take a step closer to her, setting my hand on the truck and leaning down.

She presses her back to the truck and swallows hard.

I curl my index finger under her chin and tilt her head up. "You have two options and the second one I guaran-fucking-tee you will not like," I growl.

Her bottom lip quivers. "Yes, Sir."

"What? No knife to threaten me with this time?"

Her big eyes stare up at me as she shakes her head side to side.

My door slams shut as I turn my head.

It's Dwight.

I know what he's thinking, but he doesn't have the balls to stand up to me. I open the back door of the truck as Alice hurries inside and I shut it behind her. "You got something to say? Speak the fuck up then."

"The ultimatum you gave her, that's not how we do things. Especially you of all people."

"What are you going to do about it?" I ask, resting my hand on my knife at my side.

Dwight lowers his head.

"That's what I thought. Not a fucking thing."

He balls his hand into a fist.

"You're driving." I open up my door, purposely hitting him with it before climbing inside. I put on my gloves, looking over my shoulder.

Alice has her head down and her hands folded in her lap.

"Bunch of pussies around here," I say disgusted, shaking my head.

I quickly roll down the window and lean out of it, whacking the undead. "Goddamn, did you see that? I know that motherfucker didn't," I laugh, sitting back down.

Neither Dwight nor Alice speak.

"Lucille thought it was funny," I grumble. "Alice, come sit up here with us," I tell her.

"There's no room though."

I look over my shoulder. "You can sit on my lap," I smirk, raising my eyebrows up and down.

Dwight slams on the breaks as I go flying into the dashboard.

"Goddammit, Dwight," I grunt, grabbing my ribs, "what the fuck was that for?"

"We're here," he dryly tells me, opening the door and getting out.

"You should wear your seatbelt," Alice says.

"You think, Officer? Fucking shit," I snap, getting out of the truck.

"Are you alright?" she asks, getting Lucille for me.

"I'm fine," I respond, rolling my shoulder.

She grabs the strap of her backpack, putting it on. Alice starts to say something, but Dwight interrupts.

"We probably have six hours. Split up?"

I rub the back of my neck, trying to figure out where exactly to start. "We're going to have to. I don't want to risk not searching everywhere."

"I know this area well," Alice adds. "There's a hardware supply, an Inn, and an auto repair shop followed by the Library farther down Spotswood Trail. I'll cover that area. You all should take Monroe Drive. There are three schools and the fire station."

Dwight looks at Alice and touches her shoulder. "Be careful, okay?"

"You too, Dwight."

"Jesus Christ, it was your idea to split up," I remind him.

"I'm just saying, have some fucking compassion," he mumbles, walking down the street.

"Alone at last," I smirk.

Alice presses her lips into a thin line.

"Blow job for good luck?" I shrug, unzipping my pants.

She walks away from me.

"I was only fucking kidding," I shout. "Sorta."

She keeps walking and disappears around a building.

"Well, fuck," I sigh, following Dwight.

"Something's not right."

"No shit," I scoff, "and we're running out of daylight."

"What if she's hurt?"

My eyes shift in the direction she left. "You think?"

"Yeah, I do. We covered three times the area she did and we're still waiting for her to finish?"

"I bet she took off."

"Why would she do that?"

I constantly treat her like shit. "Never mind, look, stick together, but you take one side of the street and I'll get the other."

"Good idea."

"Here," I tell Dwight, throwing a flashlight over at him.

"Alice," Dwight calls.

"Alice," I yell. I'm becoming less optimistic the closer we come to the library. Were we looking for her, or a body? Did she really make a run for it? Had I pushed her to that point? I… I was just joking with her.

"Negan!" Dwight shouts from the library.

I run as fast as I can. "Is she–"

"She fell through the floor." Dwight points his flashlight up at the ceiling. "Water leaked through the ceiling rotting the floor."

"Thanks for the fucking common sense lesson, now help me get her out."

"Whoa, let me go!"

"Fuck you, I'm going."

"Negan, I'm serious. I can't hoist you back up, you're too heavy."

Goddammit, I hate when he's right. "Get fucking to it then!"

"Help me down and kind of swing me over some so I don't land on her."

Alice wasn't moving at all. Her lower body was covered by a fallen bookshelf.

He skims his flashlight over everything "Damn, there's a ton of blood down here."

"Is she alive?" The panic in my voice surprises both of us.

"She's breathing. I think—" he pauses, moving the bookshelf off her.

"What? What is it?"

"There's two undead underneath her. She must have fallen through the floor right after she killed them."

I squat down. "Give her to me," I demand.

"You're not going to leave me down here when I do, are you?"

"Dwight," I yell.

"Okay, okay!" He sets the bookshelf upright and leans it against the wall. "Alice?" Dwight calls, kneeling down.

I point my flashlight at the bookshelf so he can see where he's stepping. What if she had lost too much blood? Or what if she was bitten? I let my greed for these supplies injure one of my men. None of us should have gone alone and I should have been smart about it, spending a few days here. I also should have brought Marshall with us, that way he could have gone with Alice.

"Negan," Dwight shouts again.

I snap out of it and reach for Alice.

"I'm going to get her bags." Dwight jumps back down.

I lay her on the floor. "Alice?" I look over her arms and legs to make sure she isn't bit.

Dwight throws up her bag and a few more she has scavenged supplies in.

"Alice?" I wipe the blood from her nose and lip. I lean over her and put my ear to her mouth.

She's breathing.

"Negan, help," Dwight calls.

"Hold on!"

"No, there's undead down here, they're coming through the door!"

Oh, shit. I move to the edge and look down, clicking on the flashlight again. "Come on!"

Dwight kills two and runs for the bookcase, starting to climb up it. "Oh, fuck, it's giving."

"Give me your hand!"

"The thing has my leg," he cries.

The shelf breaks and he slips. "Oh, fuck!"

I grab his wrist, steadying him.

"Oh, god," he screams.

"Dwight, I can't pull you and the undead up."

"It won't fucking let go!"

"Try fucking harder!"

"Negan, I don't want to die," he whines.

"You're slipping! Get it off you," I yell.

The flashlight is pulled from my hands and the undead is hit in the head with a knife, falling to its knees.

I pull Dwight up. "Holy mother fuck me," I exhale.

"Fuck," He gasps for air.

I wipe the sweat from my brow.

"That was way too close," Dwight says, getting to his feet.

I look over at Alice. "Damn woman, you've got some fucking timing."

"I'm glad you're okay," Dwight smiles, cupping her cheek.

"Thank you for getting me out of there," she tells him, ignoring me.

I frown watching the two of them. Where was my fucking thank you?

"Come on," Dwight says, helping her up. "Can you walk?"

"I'm just a little dizzy, but, yes."

"Let me carry you."

"I'm fine, really," she assures him.

"Jesus Christ," I snap, grabbing all of her bags and leaving. We actually were able to get a lot of needed supplies. The schools still had several cots and mats when they were used as temporary housing when the outbreak started as well as other supplies, including our much-needed antibiotics. I hear the two of them behind me. "Dwight, go out by the school so we can get the cots," I tell him, loading up the last bag. I start to get in the truck when I feel Alice grab some of the sleeve on my jacket. I look down at her hand, then at her.

"I appreciate you searching for me."

"We both came back for you," I mutter bitterly.

"Ultimately, it was your decision and you should have left me behind," Alice says, stepping closer. "Thank you."

I let out a deep breath. "You're one of my men, figuratively speaking of course. I wasn't about to head back without you."

"We leaving?" Dwight asks.

Alice lets go of my sleeve.

I help her in the truck. "Speak with Carson, we'll try to replace your weird knife."

"I have six more."

"Get some real food when we get back then, not just snacks."

"Thank you, Sir."

I nod and shut the door, then climb in.

"Seatbelt," Alice tells me, touching it to my shoulder.

I let out a breathed laugh and put it on.

"Welcome home, Sir," Carson greets me with little emotion.

"What the fuck is your problem? Maybe this will put you in a better mood. Give me your hand." When he does, I give him a few pain pills.

"I don't have any points."

"Just keep it between us. Your hunch found us a lot of supplies."

Carson quickly swallows them all.

I shake my head, wondering how he is even able to function.

"Tara is extremely ill," he informs me, pushing up his glasses.

"We found several antibiotics. If she has the points, give her some."

"Are you still sending her to the outpost? Should I find so—"

"John can handle it. What's your fucking problem? You're bringing me down."

"Uh." His eyes tear up and he puts his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose.

I feel a tightness in my chest. "No," I frown, the word getting caught in my throat.

He shakes his head, confirming my suspicion. "We lost Tim."

I ball my hands into fists. "Where's Mark?" I shout.

"The cafeteria."

"Goddammit," I scream, walking off.

"I don't see how you can stomach anything," I grunt, pushing Mark back a step.

"Tim was careless," Mark callously replies.

"Bullshit he was careless! Those men were your responsibility," I yell, flinging his food from his hand. I take a step closer and stab my finger to his chest. "From now on, Marshall's in charge."

"But, Sir, it wasn't my—"

"You spineless piece of shit. Then you wonder why I'm the one fucking your girlfriend at night."

Mark says nothing and walks past me.

Alice looks up at me wide-eyed.

I lose my scowl instantly.

She looks uneasy at what she's just heard.

"I didn't know you were behind him."

"Like it would have made a difference," she mumbles.

"Alice, you have got to grow a pair, especially around here. This fairy-fucking-tale world you live in is gone."

"Yet you question me when I don't want to be a part of it!"

"I question it because you're like a goddamn time bomb just waiting for that chance to spray your fucking brains on the wall! Why take your life when there are no repercussions anymore for making someone sorry they ever crossed you?"

She pulls a knife from her boot. "Then maybe I should cut your tongue out now and save me the grief of listening to you speak."

"And you said you didn't like foreplay."

Alice lets out a disgusted sigh and starts for the front doors when she notices Marshall sitting on the floor.

He's covered in blood with a blank look on his face.

She sets her food to the side and kneels down beside him, cupping his face.

I frown watching him completely fucking lose it as he cries against her shoulder. His cries echo through the cafeteria and I can't watch this anymore. With each set of steps, I become overwhelmed with the reality that Tim is gone.

"Oh, god, are you okay?" Amber asks.

I must be really distraught for it to grab Amber's attention. "Everyone out but Sherry."

"We never get to join you and Sherry," Rachel pouts, heading for the door.

I drag my feet, putting my hand on my forehead as I move towards one of the lounges, then plop downward.

"Negan, what is it?" Sherry asks, sitting next to me.

I stare blankly at the floor.

She takes in a sharp breath. "Is it Dwight? Is he okay?" she panics.

"Tim is dead, Sherry."

"Tim?" she asks in disbelief.

I nod.

"What? How?"

"Does it fucking make a difference?"

She closes her eyes as she starts to sob into her hand.

I lean back and rub my brow. It was probably one of the few times I was fucking speechless. Things like this didn't happen to us. Not here. I press my hand to her leg, patting it a few times before I take it away. "I haven't had a chance to tell Dwight. Why don't you stay with him tonight? He's not going to take it well."

"What about you?"

"I want to be alone." The truth is, I don't want to be alone, but I'm not going to talk about my feelings like a fucking pussy.

Sherry gives me a kiss on the cheek.

"Don't fucking do that shit," I yell, standing up. I wipe my cheek with my sleeve similar to a boy ridding their mother's embarrassing display of affection.

"I'll stay with you if you just ask me."

I let out a grunt and go into my bedroom, slamming the door.

I crack my bedroom door, peering out it. Shit, I waited too long. The girls are asleep. I walk over to the bookshelf and squint my eyes. Fuck, I must have stood here for over a goddamn hour, reading all the titles. My eyebrow peaks as I pull one from the shelf and trot downstairs. When I get outside, I don't see Alice on her bedroll. "Fuck," I sigh and walk disappointed back to the doors. As I open the door, I notice she's sitting at one of the tables in the courtyard. It wasn't my intention, but I end up startling her.

She lets out a relieved sigh when she sees it's me.

I sit down across from her. "Can't sleep?"

Alice shakes her head no.

"How's Marshall?"

"Devastated. He blames himself."

"That makes two of us. Anyways, you should have the Doctor take a look at you after that fall you took."

"I do not have any signs of a concussion or anything to lead me to believe I need medical attention. However, can I suggest that more people accompany us next time?"

"Can I suggest you watch where you fucking step? Maybe next time you won't fall through the floor."

"Fair enough," she says, going back to writing.

"You think it's so easy being a leader? What else do you suggest?"

She looks up from her paper. "You want my suggestions?"

I fold my arms.

"Never mind then."

"I asked, didn't I?"

"Your arms are crossed. That means you're not open to suggestion."

"I'm not open to it, but since you're so fucking smart, let's hear what you have to say."

"I think you should put Marshall in Mark's place."

"I've already considered that. However, Marshall and Tim were extremely close, as you saw earlier. I want to give him a few more days to grieve and I think we all need a break. When's the last time you slept?"

"Last night."

"Whatever, lie to me, I don't care. Any more suggestions I've already thought of?"

"Eventually, gas isn't going to be a viable option. We should find an alternative such as draining grease fryers from restaurants and fast food places, then convert it to fuel."

"You're talking about biodiesel?"

"Yes, Sir."

I unfold my arms. "That ain't a bad fucking idea."

"You should speak with Dillon."

"Why?"

"If that's his shirt, he was employed at Virginia Biodiesel."

"I didn't notice that."

"I have one more suggestion."

"Let's fucking have it."

"Arlington has several solar facilities that are worth looking into. If the panels are already loaded onto the truck, it's just a matter of clearing a path to get the truck back here. It might be a gamble if they don't work but they can usually be repaired by using other panels for parts. Then, we can save the car batteries for powering lights to put outside Sanctuary in case of an emergency."

"Goddamn, having electricity again would be nice."

"You have the manpower to increase the quality of living."

"I want you to come to me when you have ideas like this, Alice."

"Yes, Sir."

I point at the paper. "What are you writing?"

"I was mapping out our location today."

"We have Carson for that."

"Yes, but Carson knows what is told to him. I make note of everything from the moment we leave here. Undead patterns to inaccessible roads. Even down to what items were left behind in a place we've scavenged."

I stretch my hand out, hovering my fingers over the paper.

She nods.

I pull the paper to me and turn it around. "Damn, Alice, this is amazing."

She digs into her bag and pulls out a composition notebook. "That town is worth scavenging at least two more times or an extended period to gather everything." She shows me the list she's compiled.

I look up from the notebook and at her. She keeps talking, but I'm not listening. I knew she was a good asset, but I truly had no idea just how good of an asset. I feel like this book I brought her is nothing more than an insult now. "Here, I want you to have this."

Her eyes widen. "Did you find this in the Library?"

I shake my head no. "The parlor is filled with books."

"Thank you so much, Sir! I have a copy—"

"I know, Tara told me." Maybe I was wrong. This seems to mean more to her than anything.

"Do you know how much this particular version is worth?"

"Nothing," I laugh.

Her cheeks turn a shade of pink. "Well, before everything it was impossible to find and worth thousands. There are only five of this version and the author and publisher both have a copy."

"Thousands? For a fucking book?"

"Yes."

"So... you want to thank me here or upstairs?"

Her eyes shoot upward.

"I'm just fucking with you. Well, actually, that's a poor choice of words since we're not technically fucking."

She lets out a breathed laugh which is more than I expected.

I press my finger to her map. "Will you show Carson this when you get a chance?"

"Yes, Sir." She carefully puts the book I gave her into her bag. "About Tim—"

"No, I don't want to fucking talk about Tim. Why are women always trying to talk about feelings and shit?"

"I was just asking if we were having a funeral for him," she frowns.

"Oh." Now I feel stupid for yelling at her.

"Marshall and Vic said they were going back for him in the morning."

"Yeah, we can do that." I pause for a brief awkward moment. "It's been 18 years since I've buried someone."

"It doesn't hurt any less, unfortunately."

"I guess some things haven't changed. Have a good night, Alice."

"You, too, Sir."

"You look nice," Sherry says, fixing the collar of my black buttoned down dress shirt.

I feel ridiculous, but my mind is on other things so I let her play dress up. Where in the fuck did she even find this shirt?

"I know that you're taking his death personal, but this is not your fault."

I sigh and take Sherry's hands from my chest. "Let's go, girls," I tell them as they follow me downstairs, out into the courtyard. There's a cool breeze outside about to bring in a storm. We walk around towards the back of Sanctuary where the others have already started to gather.

"I tried to save him," Marshall says with his head down.

"This is not your fault, Marshall," I tell him, touching his shoulder before I walk up in front of everyone. I look down at the freshly dug grave and wooden cross, trying to get a clear head. "Without Tim, there would be no Sanctuary. Every time you go to sleep at night, know that you're safe because of him. We've all been fortunate and haven't lost anyone until now." Something in me just snapped. "From this day forward, if your careless mistake gets one of my men killed, you will pay for it with your life." I look right at Mark as his cowardice eyes lock with mine. "Tim's death will not be in vain."

Mark covers his face and lowers his head.

I walk through the crowd until I find Sherry in the back.

"Tim was..." someone else starts.

My girls gather in close as we listen to people talk about him in the past tense. After half an hour, it comes to an end. Everyone leaves to go inside and eat, but I stayed behind. Tim's death is on my hands. I put Mark in charge like a fucking fool.

"Here," Alice says, handing me something.

My brow furrows. "Where did you find this?" I ask, taking Tim's watch from her.

"When they brought him in this morning off the truck, it fell to the ground."

I turn my attention from the watch to her.

Her hair is down as it softly moves with the wind.

Hearing her initiate conversation is as rare as her relaxed appearance. "I shouldn't have given you the ultimatum that I did yesterday before we left. We aren't like that here."

Alice looks away from me and at his grave.

I know she doesn't believe me so I don't speak any more about it. The rain starts to fall, but neither of us seems phased by it. "You talk to Tim any?"

She shakes her head no.

"I figured as much."

Alice lets out the smallest laugh but it's overpowered by the thunder.

"You should keep your hair down."

"It's not practical if an undead gets a hold of it."

"We should go upstairs and take advantage of it being down."

Alice glares at me.

"Shit, I thought I'd at least get a sympathy fuck."

She looks away from me repulsed. "Go ask one of the five women you had surrounding you."

"You wouldn't have to be in the rain."

"I prefer being struck by lightning over intercourse with you."

I look away from her and fold my arms. What a prude bitch. "Then fucking leave. I have no use for you."

There's a soft knock on the parlor door.

"I'll get it, take this towel for your hand," Rachel says, getting off the lounge and opening the door.

I look down at Lucille and smirk. She's dripping with my blood.

"It's for you."

"Who is it?"

"That police officer."

I roll my eyes, but then I wonder, has she changed her mind? "Clean Lucille off," I instruct Rachel, going out into the hall.

Alice looks down and blushes.

"Like what you see?" I smirk.

"Will you please put a shirt on?"

"No, and you're lucky I have on pants. What do you want? If you ain't here to fuck, you might as well turn right back around."

"I want to apologize for my crude comment," she frowns.

Well, this is unexpected. I'm used to people apologizing out of fear. Blood drips on the floor, distracting me.

"You should elevate your hand above your heart to help stop the bleeding," Alice instructs, moving my arm up and stepping closer. She closes her fingers around the palm of my hand and applies pressure to the towel.

I know she says she doesn't want to fuck me, but there is definitely some sexual tension here and I know sexual tension. It's even more apparent when she tries to divert my attention from the awkward silence by asking how I got this wound. I could have lied, but I wanted to see her reaction. "I like it when Lucille marks me before I fire one off into their mouths."

Alice blushes a deep shade of red.

"Why are you embarrassed? I ain't ashamed. Hell, that ain't the half of it. Sometimes, when I'm alone, I like to rub my dick on her. Away from the barbed wire though. Do you really think I'd let her cut my shit up?"

"Of course you wouldn't. I don't know what I was thinking."

She is such a smart ass. "I know what's going on in that head of yours. You think I've lost my fucking mind."

"No, I don't."

"So you'll accept something as fucked up as this, but not my wives?"

"I don't care for any conversation of a sexual nature. It's inappropriate. I'm just relieved you're not making sexual advances towards me."

I lower my arm back down and take the rag from my hand.

"Is that where the scars on both your hands came from?"

"Yeah."

"Aren't you afraid you'll become infected?"

"I take special care of Lucille. Clean her off and shit before I, well, you know. Anyways, I also change the barbed wire out every now and then when she gets rusty. I'll let you know the next time I do if you want to test her out before I put it back on." A sickly smirk sweeps across my face at the thought of that. Goddamn, I'd die a happy fucking man.

Alice's expression twists to complete disgust, unlike anything I have ever seen.

"Come to think of it, I might have crossed the fucking line on that one. Yeah. I think I certainly fucking did. Lucille is a jealous bitch. She'd fuck me up if she heard me talking to another woman like this." I close the parlor door just in case. I notice her hand creeping towards the spot on her vest where she keeps her knife. "Well, if you don't fuck me up first."

She eases her hand back some.

"I think you should know that I don't usually open up to people this fucking easily."

"Why would you open up to me? It's no secret you don't like me."

"Why the fuck do you think that?"

"The way you speak to me is very hostile, and when I offered a suggestion about 495, you were very belittling in front of the others."

"I don't tolerate disrespect, especially in front of my men. You got something to fucking say, you say it privately."

"It wasn't meant as disrespect. It was merely a suggestion."

I press my lips together in a thin line.

"Very well, I'll be on my way then."

"Wait a minute," I say, grabbing her vest by the shoulder strap, "I told you something twisted about me, your turn."

"Take your hand from me now," she demands.

I open up my fingers as she takes a step away from me and situates her vest. "Well?"

"Nothing comes to mind."

"Bullshit. I found you with a revolver in your mouth, I'm sure you've got some screws loose and I wanna fucking know."

"What constitutes twisted?"

"Just answer the fucking question."

"Is this a form of blackmail in case I tell someone about your hands?"

"The next thing out of your mouth better be what I want to hear," I threaten.

"I cut my stomach open intentionally with a steak knife when I was five."

I just stand there with my mouth open like a fucking fish.

"May I leave now?"

"Fuck, no, you can't leave. What the fuck did you cut yourself open for?"

"My mother died giving birth to my sister. After her death, I had nightmares that I would die the same way. I figured if I had no stomach, I wouldn't be able to have a baby when I was older. Foolish, I realize this now."

"Holy fucking fuck, Alice." I am honestly without fucking words. I figured she'd talk about her wrists or some shit but… fuck. I notice Sherry out of the corner of my eye.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you two were talking. I can go back downstairs until you're done."

"I will show Carson the map in the morning," Alice tells me.

I don't say a word as my eyes follow her down the steps.

"Are you okay? You look pale," Sherry asks, waving her hand in front of my face.

I clear my throat. "Did you fucking hear the fucked up shit that just came out of her mouth?"

"About the map?"

"No, about the... never mind." Mother fuck me.

I shut my bedroom door and as I lock it, someone touches my side. "You're up early."

"I wanted you to myself."

"Bullshit."

Amber drops to her knees and turns my hips to face her.

I grab her hand, pulling her up to her feet as I back her into a corner.

In a desperate attempt, she unhooks her bra and drops it to the floor.

My eyes trail downward taking in the rare sight of her naked flesh and my pants tighten. "Goddamn, Amber. Those— uh—" I can't even form sentences. I take a couple of steps back until I reach one of the lounges and have a seat.

She saunters over to me with this sudden confidence.

"Let me fuck those titties."

She shakes her head no and puts her knee to the lounge as she straddles me.

I hold her by her slim waist, licking my lips before they're against her warm skin.

She eagerly unzips my zipper and pulls me from the fly of my pants.

"Shit, would you calm the fuck down?"

"I want you to fuck me right now," she whines.

"Cut the shit," I yell, waking the others.

Amber gets off my lap and runs into the bathroom.

By now, I know her forwardness means it has to do with Mark. Each one of my wives I have a special agreement with. Amber's condition is that I protect Mark from the others. I get off the lounge and go after her. I've always had this thing about fucking Amber. She makes me feel like I'm forcing myself on her and I don't like that shit one bit. I keep her only because I know I will catch Amber and Mark one day. Then it will be a scored settled for what he did to Sherry and Dwight.

"Get out," she screams.

"If you ever raise your voice like this to me again, you're gone."

She turns around, covering her chest.

I open the cabinet and pull out a towel, draping it over her.

"Thank you," she murmurs, turning around.

"Mark is being punished. Be thankful you're a wife because it's the only reason I didn't kill him."

"Connor is coming back tomorrow and you know if he finds out Mark is unprotected, he's going to hurt him." The panic in her voice just confirms my suspicion they're still fucking.

"Perhaps he'll think twice about getting my men killed!"

"Negan, please. You know I would never cheat on you but Mark is still my friend and I care about his wellbeing."

"My decision stands."

Amber falls to the floor, letting out a loud sob.

I roll my eyes at the ridiculous fit she's having.

She takes the toilet paper from the holder and throws it at me.

"Amber, I'm losing my fucking patience with this charade."

"I don't want to be a wife anymore."

"Empty threats are also something I'm not going to tolerate from you." I move aside. "Don't let me stop you."

She picks herself up, shoving the towel into me before going to the door.

I grab her arm, pulling her back. "Al-fucking-right," I snap. The little shit. I didn't think she had it in her to actually leave.

Amber lets out a breath and turns around. "Seriously?"

"Only protection from Connor."

"Thank you so much," she whines, choked up.

I sigh disgusted, giving her the towel back to cover herself.

"You don't like me, do you?"

"You wouldn't be here if I didn't like you."

She lets out a breathed laughed, snorting. "The truth is, I don't much care for you either. You're arrogant and manipulative."

I shove my index finger into the fleshy part of her shoulder. "And you're a fucking spoiled brat! Throwing a tantrum on the floor like a six-year-old?"

"Let's get this over with. Do you want me bent over the counter?"

I open up the bathroom door and shove her out so I can get my shower over with. It actually catches me off guard when I pull the curtain back and see Amber standing there.

"Here," she says, handing me a towel.

"You here to fight more?" I snatch the towel from her hand, drying myself off.

"I'm sorry."

"Save it."

"No, I'm serious."

I wrap the towel around my waist and fold my arms. "Hate me all you want, Amber, but this is your choice. I didn't force you into this, just like I don't force myself on any of you. The look on your face like I do has to fucking stop."

"I know." She picks up my clothes off the floor and hands them to me. "I don't like the threesome stuff. It makes me uncomfortable. That's why I give you that look."

"Why don't you fucking speak up then?"

"My deal with you is protection for Mark. I thought I was only allowed one favor."

"From now on, if you have a fucking problem, you come to me. Don't give me the silent treatment for something I don't even know I'm doing wrong."

"Thank you, Negan," she smiles, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

"Go get me something to eat, and don't take all fucking day either."

She lets out a soft laugh. "Alright."

I put my foot on the bench of one of the tables in the courtyard.

"S— sorry I'm late," Carson says, sitting down.

I've called a meeting with my Lieutenants. Dwight of course, then Connor. Followed by Carson, Tara, and now Marshall. "Let's make this quick. Tara needs to rest. First fucking things first. Marshall is taking Mark's spot. Mark's constant negligence is un-fucking-acceptable and I will not tolerate mistakes like losing one of my men."

Before Marshall showed up five months ago, he was held up in a diner a few miles from Sanctuary with a small group. His group made my men look like fucking boy scouts. Most of them were convicts on death row for murder and other heinous crimes. Dwight and Tara were on a supply run when his group took them hostage. When Tara and Dwight wouldn't give up the location of Sanctuary, the group had plans for them. They were to be kept and tortured as a form of entertainment for the group. Marshall slaughtered the entire group when he found out. However, the group had already got their hands on Dwight. Marshall carried him back to Sanctuary and saved both their lives. Marshall is one of my most loyal men. He is like me in the sense, we didn't lose anyone to the undead. One thing I've noticed about him, he is very by the book, which makes sense seeing as he was raised in a military family, even joining the Army at 18. He also has an extremely short fuse and no tolerance for bullshit. If you go in his room, there isn't a thing out of place but his brunet hair is a mess and I'm pretty sure that's dried blood under his nails from three days ago.

I hand him over Tim's watch.

"Thank you, Sir."

I nod and take my foot from the bench.

Connor gets a malicious look on his face as he rubs his hands together. "So, uh, about Mark—"

"No one touches Mark or they can answer to me.

"Fuck," he mumbles.

"What did you find out while you were gone?"

"There's a school just a few miles from here. They call it, King– uh, some shit. Anyways, the name isn't important. From what I've seen, lots of women and children. They rely mostly on these six-foot reinforced steel walls that are backed by school buses along the walls as protection. They don't allow vehicles inside so the only way in is a small entry point that's a sliding metal panel. The leader's name is Ezekiel."

"Here," Carson says, laying down his map, "mark the location."

"You said mostly women and children? Negan, sounds like it ain't worth our time," Dwight grumbles.

"They're surviving, aren't they?" I point out. "I doubt a bunch of fucking librarians put up reinforced steel walls."

"That's right," Connor continues, filling us in on a few other things, then finishes marking the location on the map.

"Anything else?"

"There's also some girl named, Shiva. This broad is off her fucking rocker. Tears undead apart with her bare hands. She belongs to that Ezekiel guy, but get this. The dudes got some kind of fetish, makes her wear a collar and shit."

"How is that relevant?" Tara asks disgustedly.

"Sounds like wife material," I smirk, licking my lips.

"Bullshit, I called her," Connor snaps.

"Well, if you gentleman have decided who gets the gimp, I can start making the preparations," Carson interrupts.

I laugh, slapping him on the back of the head. "Look, boys, Carson made a joke."

Carson frowns, pushing up his glasses and fixing his hair. "You could have knocked my glasses off."

I lick my finger and wipe it on the lenses. "Take the rest of the day off, meet in the courtyard at the same time tomorrow," I instruct them, laughing, as I go back to my room. I step inside the parlor and look around. "Sherry, Amber, leave."

Rachel runs her hand down the front of my pants. "Strip poker?"

I circle my thumb around Lucille. "How about bases loaded?" I smirk.

I pace back and forth, impatient. "Where is Dwight? We should have left over a fucking hour ago."

"I– uh," Carson shrugs.

I pull Carson away from everyone. "Would you pull it the fuck together?" I don't normally take Carson with me except when it's a town we plan on exploiting. This way he can do a quick inventory of everything and map out the inside. "How are you even this fucked up already?"

"I gave my room to someone in exchange for their points. More pills for me," he laughs.

"And you chose this morning of all fucking days to get high?" I yell, shoving him back on his ass. "Goddammit, Carson!"

"I'll admit, the timing isn't the greatest."

"Fucking motherfucker," I yell, kicking over one of the tables outside.

Carson throws up on himself.

"Oh, gross! I hope you choke to death on your fucking vomit," I snap, leaving to find Dwight.

He's still asleep.

I give him a nudge to the back of his head with Lucille.

"Ow, fuck," he groans, sitting up.

"We've been waiting for you for over a fucking hour! Marshall is about to have a goddamn heart attack. You're lucky I didn't send him in here to get you."

He coughs, grabbing his boots. "Cut me some slack. Aside from him, I'm always the first one ready to go."

"So you think—"

"I'm saying it won't happen again."

"Get downstairs with the others."

"I need to do some maintenance on my crossbow first."

"Things that could have been done yesterday," I yell. "I'm taking your points away for this shit."

He grabs his bow, looking up at me. "Go ahead," he scoffs, "the point system is a joke. You exploit it for your own personal amusement. Lieutenants shouldn't even be on the point system."

"Keep running your fucking trap. Alice is going to have to start giving you food from now on."

"You expect me to believe that she has points? She should be a Lieutenant by now with all the shit she's done for us, yet she still sleeps outside? You're going to give her no choice but to become one of your toys. That ain't free will, Negan, that's rape."

Did he seriously just fucking imply that? "She can leave if she doesn't like it," I bark defensively.

"So you'd risk losing someone as valuable as her because she won't play with your dick?"

"What can I say, Sherry just doesn't do it for me anymore."

Dwight grits his teeth, lunging at me.

I shove him to the side like he's nothing and laugh. "Go ahead and make it worse for her because I promise you they can be," I threaten. I truly thought one of us wouldn't end up leaving this room but he picks himself up and goes out the door without one snide remark. I know that it's fucked up what I did to him, but I have no choice. As long as I can instill fear in my Lieutenants, then all of these people can be manipulated.

Marshall is beyond pissed by the time I get back. He paces frantically back and forth. "An hour and thirty-seven minutes!"

"I know and believe me, I ain't too fucking happy right now. Connor," I call, motioning for him to join Marshall and me. "Dwight is taking his sweet ass time and Carson is high as a fucking kite. I don't have a good feeling about this. I say we go to Hilltop, get our supplies, and call it a fucking day."

"I'll go back out there, scout someplace else," Connor offers.

"Do that then. Marshall and I will get the supplies." I rarely go and pick up supplies from the other communities because I think it's a waste of fucking time that could be better spent doing other things, but considering I haven't got a decent offering in months, it's time I show them how fucking serious I am.

"I will get the truck," Marshall says, putting his cigarette out.

"Seth."

"Yes, Sir?"

"Take Carson to the infirmary and have them sober him up."

"Thought you wanted him to choke to death?" he smirks.

"Not in the fucking mood right now," I yell.

"Alright," he mumbles, going to Carson.

"Sir?"

"What?" I snap at Alice.

She swallows hard. "May I be of any assistance?"

I tell her to clear undead with Seth and Dwight, then get in the truck. "Goddammit," I grumble, running my hand down my face.

"Is she coming?"

"I don't want her knowing where the supplies come from. Drive." I knew I was fucking pissed off because I didn't even make a joke about what Marshall just said.

"What makes you think she doesn't already know?" he asks, driving towards the gate.

"I just do."

"She's a cop, she'll figure it out."

"Get to the fucking point, Marshall."

"She's going to see all these supplies and ask questions because she charts all that shit. You really expect her to believe a town just handed over their suppli–"

"For protection, don't you ever forget that."

Marshall doesn't retort.

I let out a heavy breath. "I'll tell you something that doesn't leave this truck. We need Alice. She's not a strong fighter, but we haven't been this well off with supplies in a while."

"You think she'd leave if she knew what we are about to do?"

"I know for a fact. The moral fucking police," I scoff. I take a deep breath and shake my head. "Her eyes, they... you don't see it. I can't even have a conversation without her looking at me like I'm the fucking devil. "

"I see it. That blank stare she gives."

"Is it that apparent?"

"It is when you've seen it before."

"You know Alice?"

He shakes his head no. "When I was in the Army, I'd see it all the time. POW's especially. You can't deal with the trauma, so you either put yourself somewhere else or just choose not to feel anything. My guess, Alice does the same thing."

I never thought of that. "Weren't those people tortured?"

"A lot of times, yes. In the most brutal extreme ways to extract information. Sometimes, if they made it out, the stress would be too much."

"I found her with a gun in her mouth and it's not the first time I've seen her pull some crazy fucking stunt."

"There's something keeping her from actually doing it then and it's not because she's scared to pull the trigger."

I look out the window, curling my fingers around Lucille. Alice would never talk about it so I really don't know why I waste time thinking about it or any more time on this fucking conversation. "The group you were with before us, they torture a lot of people?"

"Never people, only the undead. I just figured it was their way of coping with it so I just looked the other way."

"How did you end up with a bunch of convicts?"

"People didn't exactly have name tags on."

"Fucking smart ass."

"You asked the jackass question."

I let out a laugh. I like that Marshall isn't afraid to tell me how he feels.

"Regardless, they were survivors. I find it strange to say, but sometimes I feel like I live my life the same way now as I did before everything went to shit."

"I know the feeling." I let out a long sigh. "Look, Marshall, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

He raises his eyebrow.

"Tim's death isn't how I wanted to promote you to Lieutenant. As far as I'm concerned, you've always been one. What you did for Tara and Dwight doesn't go unnoticed by any of us.

He relaxes his brow and clears his throat. "I appreciate that, Sir."

The truck comes to a stop and I get out, going over to the gate. Usually, it's open by now. "Let us in you rude fucks," I yell.

"You're early," Crystal says.

"Oh, is that so? Well then, pick us a fucking spot to sleep, maybe with you until you're ready for us."

"The supplies are ready," Ethan informs us.

"Good, now let us the fuck in or I'll burn this fucking town to the ground and shit in the ashes."

He nods nervously and motions for the guards to open the gate.

I climb back in the truck.

"I didn't expect to get resistance."

"They're going to try and kill us."

"I thought they didn't have weapons?"

"Well, they do now. However, they're not too smart about it. When you get out of the truck, kill the guard on your right. I'll take the left. Maybe they'll know I ain't fucking around," I tell him, handing him an MK 18. "Stay alert."

"Yes, Sir."

We open fire as soon as we get out of the truck and it goes exactly how I hope. "Call your people from their homes!" I shoot Andy in the kneecap after they all just stand there ignoring me.

"Do as he says," Ethan tells them.

This place is incredible. It makes me wonder how an idiot like Gregory could have his hands in something like this.

Andy rolls around on the ground, breaking my concentration.

"Damn, who would have thought a fucking knee cap would bleed that much?" I laugh, poking it with the tip of my gun.

"Stop," he begs.

Marshall clears his throat.

I look up at the majority of the residence now in the street. "Fan-fucking-tastic." I like a prompt response. "It didn't have to be this way," I shout as the last person gathers around me. "Get me some fucking supplies," I order.

"Crystal, get him the supplies," Ethan stammers.

"Wait," I narrow my eyes. "One fucking girl for a month's worth of supplies?"

"Negan, it's not that easy! You know this," he pleas.

"Deal's changing. I want your antibiotics," I demand. This visit isn't about fucking supplies. I want blood.

"Hurry," Ethan says.

"Go get the guns off the guards," I tell Marshall.

"Yes, Sir."

"For every minute we wait is a minute I kill someone."

"We have the things you need, don't kill any more people than you have."

"See, that's where you're fucking wrong. Because I still don't believe you have anything. Or you're hoarding, and as I recall, half of that is mine for the services I've provided you pricks." I rest the gun against my shoulder as I turn to the crowd of people. "How many people died last month from a bite? Come on, don't be shy now." I walk over and kneel down in front of one of the children.

The mother grips her tighter.

I curl my index finger under the girl's chin and move her face up. "You lose anyone close to you?"

She shakes her head no.

"Really? No friends?"

"No."

"Why do you think that is?"

"The Saviors protect us from the monsters."

I take my hand from her and stand up. "The Saviors protect you," I shout, stretching my arms out. I hit Ethan in the face with the backside of my gun.

Crystal runs up the path with a backpack.

"Put it in the truck," I say, following her. "Well, that was, what? Two and a half minutes?" I put a bullet in Andy and David.

People start to scream.

"For the half, we'll take the girl."

"No," Ethan begs.

"I could kill her, too?"

Ethan shakes his head no.

"You haven't met your end of the bargain and to show you how crystal fucking clear I am—" I laugh, pulling her closer. "Nice pun there right?" I smirk.

"Fuck you," she screams.

I put her in the truck as Marshall ties her hands together. "You want her back, you stab that son of a bitch Gregory for not getting me my supplies, and then we'll talk," I tell Ethan, slamming the door shut.

Marshall puts the truck in reverse and we leave Hilltop.

"Don't you fucking move," I threaten Crystal.

"That went well," Marshall scoffs.

"We made our fucking point."

Crystal leans over and bites Marshall on the neck.

"Fuck," he screams, elbowing her in the face. The truck almost flips, skidding across the grass. Blood spurts from his neck as he cups his hand around it.

I drag her from the truck by her hair. "You want to attack my men, you fucking fuck," I scream.

"Let me go," she yells.

"I'm just putting you where you belong," I growl, shoving her into a group of undead.

"No, please," she begs.

I step back and watch them rip her apart before I run back to the truck. "How bad is it?" I ask, pulling his hand from his neck. "Shit," I grunt, getting out of the truck. I get out my knife and cut a piece of canvas from the trucks cover, coming around the other side. "Move over, I'll drive. Try and stop the bleeding with this," I tell him.

"You know how fucking filthy the human mouth is? Christ, I'll end up dead from a fucking infection if the bleeding stops," he grumbles, pressing the cloth to his neck.

"You ain't fucking dying from an infection and I'm sure that cloth is filthier."

"Fucking hilarious."

"You're going to be fine." I reach into the back seat and grab a bottle of antibiotics from the backpack. "Here," I say, pressing them to his chest.

"Spent my points on a carton of reds."

"Take the fucking pills and calm down. No one has to know we got those."

He pops the top and takes two. "Thank you, Sir."

I know it isn't my fault but I feel responsible when my men are hurt. Marshall could have fucking died had she of bit his jugular. "I shoved her into some undead for you."

"Good. Right where she belongs. Fucking crazy bitch," he mumbles. He's quite pale but the blood has finally stopped pumping from his neck by the time we get back. Marshall lets out a breathed laugh.

"What?"

"First foreplay I've had in months and the bitch almost kills me."

I laugh with him as we enter Sanctuary.

.

"S— Sir?" Carson stammers. "I want to apologize for earlier.

I rear back like I'm about to hit him and bust out laughing when he cowers. "I'm just fucking with you. You're too fragile to hit. Probably crack your skull open or some shit."

"Thank you, Sir. For not hitting me, Sir."

"Alright, cut it out. Now it's just fucking pathetic. How did Dwight do? And don't give me any fucking bad news this time."

"Seth is in the infirmary. They brought him in as I was leaving."

"Do I gotta fucking do everything around this motherfucker?" I yell, going upstairs.

I rub my brow. "Explain to me again how this fucking happened?" I yell.

"It was my fault," Alice blushes, looking down.

"It's not broken. A couple of days off your feet and you'll be fine," the Doctor tells Seth.

I yank Alice by her ridiculous black tie, pulling her to me. "I asked you a fucking question!"

"Negan, stop! It was an accident," Dwight chimes in.

"Didn't we just have this fucking conversation? It's undead for Christ's sake!" I let go of Alice, shoving her back some. "No dinner for you. Get the fuck out of my sight!"

She hurries from the infirmary.

Dwight shakes his head and runs after her.

"How bad is it?" I ask Seth after I take a few deep breaths.

"I'll fucking live," he mumbles, slipping on his sock.

"What happened?"

"What do you think happened? Alice shouldn't be out there clearing in the first place. She's not right in the head and it makes me uneasy. She belongs at a fucking outpost. Hell, I thought she was a mute until you yelled at her. I don't like how she looks at us like we're going to run a train on her. She makes us weak, Negan. Women don't fucking belong out there and you know it. Christ, she almost killed Dwight throwing one of those knives."

I narrow my eyes. "What do you mean, almost?"

There was undead everywhere, one had a hold on Dwight. When she threw her knife, it hit Dwight instead."

That doesn't make any fucking sense. "Alice isn't sloppy."

"Think about it."

"You think she was trying to kill both of you?"

"I don't think. I know."

"Motherfucker!"

"If Dwight would quit staring at her ass long enough, he'd see it too."

I was too pissed to talk about it any longer, so I left.

"What's going on, Alice?" Dwight asks.

I stop and take a step back.

"I'm so sorry, does it hurt?" she whines, touching his shoulder.

"No, it doesn't and it was an accident."

She frowns.

"Alice, you can trust me. What happened out there today?"

"I'm exhausted, Dwight. I don't sleep at night and look what happened as a result."

"I shot Connor once in his calf. It happens with a moving target. I think you should tell Negan you're exhausted."

"Do you think he will give me a room?"

My lip curls upward.

"I don't know if you have enough points."

I leave and trot my happy ass upstairs. I knew it was only a matter of time. "What are you doing out here?" I ask Sherry.

She shuts her book. "Rachel and Nicole are, uh. Well, you know."

I let out a sinister laugh. "Sounds like I'm home just in time."

"May I go see Dwight?"

"No, now is definitely not a good time." All I need is Alice finding out about the two of them. Speaking of.

"Sir?" Alice murmurs, keeping her head down.

"What do you want?"

"I know it's not the best time to ask, but may I use my points for a room?"

I fold my arms. "You don't have near enough."

"How long should I anticipate before I get my own room?"

"A month or so I suppose."

Sherry frowns at me. Christ, even she knew Alice should have had a room by now.

Alice looks up and locks eyes with mine. It's extremely uneasy. "I won't eat for two weeks! Please, it doesn't even have to be a big room. A closet, anything," she begs me.

I point at the parlor.

She shakes her head no and hurries downstairs.

"I can't believe you right now," Sherry says appalled.

"Rules are rules."

"You can't make an exception? Who offers to go weeks without food?"

"Sherry where in the fuck do you get off questioning me?"

"Let me talk to her, and then, at least just reconsider."

"If you talk to her, neither of you will have a room. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Sir," she frowns.

"I swear, I'm a fucking babysitter, too," I mumble, opening the parlor door. Sometimes I don't even believe my own fucking eyes at the shit I see. "Where are Joanna and Amber?"

"We don't need them," Rachel says, grabbing my hand and leading me to one of the lounges.

"I'm in a shit mood right now," I grumble, setting Lucille to the side.

Nicole slides her hand along the back of the lounge, leaning against me. She's holding a shallow glass of whiskey.

I reach behind her and unhook her bra in one swift motion, then take the glass from her.

"We'll fix that," Rachel grins, running her finger under Nicole's chin before their lips meet.

Nicole slides her hand up Rachel's slender frame and unhooks her bra.

My eyes move downward, eagerly waiting. These two are by far my favorite to mess around with. There isn't a thing these girls won't let me do to them. They think I don't know, but they're actually lovers. Fine by me, just makes watching it that much more believable. I sit back as a Cheshire grin consumes me, taking a small sip from my glass.

The two girls giggle and turn their head towards me, leaning in close to my face.

"No!" I put my hand up. I've never liked the idea of someone's fucking tongue down my throat.

Rachel works my shirt off, then stands behind me. Her tits press against the back of my neck as she starts to massage my shoulders.

I hang one of my arms loosely over the back of the lounge watching Nicole's little strip tease.

Rachel presses her finger to the bottom of my glass, moving it upward.

I quickly down it, setting it to the side, though it falls to the floor when I miss the table entirely. I wasn't paying attention to the table anyways.

Rachel is loving this.

I grin at how turned on she is. "Go join her," I tempt Rachel.

"I want you to fuck me while she watches."

"Patience," I growl, turning her face towards Nicole. My eyebrow peaks as I'm given a lap dance. I run the tips of my gloved fingers over Nicole's skin, up the back of her leg until I touch her ass. "Fuck me, you two smell fucking amazing."

Rachel comes around in front of me, putting her tits close to my face.

Their size is quite the tease, but I won't complain. Nicole more than makes up for it.

Rachel grabs the zipper on my pants and slowly unzips it as Nicole drops to her knees. "Why don't you–"

There's a knock at the door.

"Go the fucking fuck away! Fuck!"

"Negan," Dwight calls.

I let out a deep sigh.

Rachel licks up my neck to my ear. "You're really leaving now?" she whispers, undoing my pants button.

I groan, pushing my hips forward when she grabs my length, pulling it from my pants. "I'm– uh… oh, yeah," I moan, grabbing a fist full of Rachel's curly brunette hair and moving her head up and down. "I'm fucking busy," I manage to yell.

The two girls greedily fight over me.

My fingers dig into the back of the lounge. "Yeah. Just like that girls."

"We've got a serious problem," Dwight says, interrupting my train of thought.

I pout like some brat, knocking over the end table next to me. "Fuck!" I push both girls away. "Just stop, I ain't even fucking hard anymore," I sigh, putting myself away.

"This is bullshit," Rachel snaps.

"You two better fucking wait for me," I demand, grabbing my shirt and pulling it over my head the most difficult way possible. I step out into the hallway and slam the door. "It better be a goddamn category five hurricane!"

Dwight coughs a few times, then looks up at me. "Alice is going to kill Donnie."

"What?" I snap.

"Oh, my gosh," Sherry says, putting down her book.

"Bring her to me," I snarl.

"Just listen to me," he starts before his cough interrupts him again, "I caught her sneaking into his room. When I went in there, she tried to attack me, thinking I was him. She was hysterical. I knew something was wrong when we were clearing. Apparently, Donnie has been making lewd comments to her while they've been fixing the fence, saying all kinds of fucked up shit, and that he's going to have his way with her when she's asleep."

I reach my hand back and punch the metal siding, startling Sherry. That's why she wanted a room. "Where is that motherfucking piece of shit!?"

Dwight swallows hard. "Outside."

"I'll kill that son of a bitch," I bellow, stomping downstairs like a fucking madman. When I get outside the gates, I look everything over.

"Fence is secure, Sir," Gary tells me.

"And the undead?" I question, trying to keep my cool.

"Several more were added to the east side," Gary informs me.

That's the side Alice sleeps on.

"The east side needs to be better reinforced before you add any more."

"We've been working on that all week," Donnie smirks.

"Gary, go inside and get something to eat."

He leaves and Donnie looks up at me confused. "Sir? Is something wrong?"

"Follow me." I lead him a little ways away from the gate and point to an undead.

He looks at it curiously. "Shit!"

I grab him by his shirt and force him against one of the concrete barriers.

The undead notice and start reaching for him, pulling on his arms.

"What the fuck?" he cries.

"Something wrong? I just thought I'd let them have their way with you!"

"Oh, fuck," he sobs as one almost bites him.

"If you ever so much as look at Alice again, I will personally fucking chain you to this wall myself, if there's anything left to chain. Am I under-fucking-stood, Donnie!?"

"Ye— yes, S— Sir."

"Tell me I have your fucking word," I bark, sliding him closer.

"You have my fucking word! I'm sorry!"

I pull him up and fling him onto the ground, spitting on him. "Motherfucker," I say, disgusted. I look over at the fence when the undead start getting riled up again.

Alice is on the other side, staring back at me. Her blue eyes fill with tears as she mouths the word, thank you.

I lower my eyes for a second then bring them back up to hers and nod.

She smiles at me and I can see the relief on her face as tears fall down her pink cheeks. Alice lets go of the fence and sits down on her bedroll.

I kick Donnie as hard as I can before I grab him by his neck and pull him inside the factory. "Lock him in the basement for tonight," I tell Carson once I'm inside. At least this way, I know she'll get some sleep. "In the morning, send him to the outpost with John or I'm going to kill this motherfucker!"

"What the heck happened?"

"This sorry sack of shit wants to rape my women!" I reach back and punch Donnie out cold, then grab him by the boot and drag him myself to the basement.

"Who did he, um, try and–"

"Alice."

"Is, is she okay?" he asks concerned.

"Would you be okay if someone threatened to fuck you while you were asleep?" I slam the door shut, locking it.

"We should kill him."

I narrow my eyes at him. "You won't even kill undead."

"Well, we should."

"Drop it!"

"I'll go check on her, see if she needs any—"

"Leave her the fuck alone, Carson," I snap, heading back to the parlor.

Sherry is waiting for me outside the door. "Did you kill him?"

"I wanted to," I murmur, stopping in front of her.

"I'm sorry."

I become confused. "For what?"

"I see now why you want Alice as a wife."

"I want to fuck her, Sherry. Make no mistake about my intentions."

She takes my hand and steps closer.

I roll my eyes.

"Remember my first night with you?"

"No."

She stares back at me.

"Fuck, what about it?"

"I cried all night wondering if I made the right choice."

"You can always leave, Sherry."

"I know. Just like I know you'll always do what's in my best interest."

"I don't understand what this has to do with Alice becoming a wife."

"Even if she agreed to be a wife, you wouldn't be able to go through with it because she's not just another Rachel or Nicole to you."

"Is that so?"

She smiles.

I lean over so that I'm inches from her face and pull my hand from hers.

She swallows hard.

"Make room, Sherry because I'm counting the fucking days," I snarl, leaving her alone.

"I was starting to think you were going to stand us up," Nicole smiles.

Am I really in the mood for this?

Rachel moves between Nicole's legs.

Yeah. I'm definitely in the mood for this. I snake down on the lounge to watch the show.

Hands slide down the front of my chest.

I look up to see Joanna standing behind me.

"Who's going to please you?" she asks in my ear.

I pull her over the lounge and put her in my lap.

"That's right. The better choice," she grins, unbuttoning my pants.

"Shut up, Joanna," Rachel snaps.

Joanna looks over her shoulder. "You're just jealous, bitch."

"Hey," I yell. "Both of you calm your fucking tits! You wanna play this catty back and forth bullshit? Do it on your own goddamn time or your fucking gone. I don't need any more fucking problems than I already have."

"I'm sorry," Joanna apologizes, then turns and faces me.

"The fuck is wrong with you disrespecting her like that?" I ask her, then it hits me.

Joanna's birthday is tomorrow. She's already ten years older than any of the other girls.

I slowly unzip her corset. "You know I'd never trade you in for a younger model."

"Yeah, but, I'm not exactly getting any younger."

"Fuck you, we're the same age."

She lets out a soft laugh and bites her lip as she moves her hands back down to my pants.

Oddly, I knew Joanna before the shit hit the fan. She was one of those girls you see that would dance behind the glass while you jerked off on the other side. The best thing about Joanna is she's unable to have children so I fuck her as often as I can. Too bad she's not as good at making me come now as she was then. However, I have a solution for that.

She swallows hard.

"The fuck did you stop for?"

"I don't like that thing close to me."

"Show some fucking respect for Lucille. Besides, she just likes to watch, lucky for you."

Joanna turns her head and starts to ride me again.

I grab her cheeks and turn her head so she's facing me. "If you don't like it, you can go back to earning points."

She shakes her head no.

"Well? Where were we?"

Joanna continues as I turn my attention to Lucille.

Fuck, I can't remember if I cleaned Lucille or not with everything that's gone on tonight. My toes curl in my boots at the thought of rubbing my dick on her. Slowly, up and down her curves.

"Negan, I'm going to come."

"You better wait for me, goddammit and don't slow down!"

"You're so hard," Joanna whines. She was right about that.

Lucille always got my dick hard when I touched her. Harder than any of them. There was a war going on in my head. I wanted her to mark me but I didn't want to be infected. Then again, I was never one to tell Lucille no. I let out a grunt and grit my teeth. Blood coats her and she's forgiven me for trying to deny her my blood. At least if I become infected, I would have pleased her one last time.

A/N I've posted links on my profile for Marshall and Alice if you're interested in seeing who I based their looks off of, and links for a more realistic take on Negan's other OC wives; Rachel, Nicole, and Joanna.