Chapter 1: Mnyama Ingwe YaseMelika

~Bucky~

Abraham was dead, killed by the Executioner.

Glenn was dead, killed by Negan.

Negan took Clary, and he took Daryl, too. Clary asked me to do one thing, to take care of the others, especially Daryl. I failed. I failed, and they were dead, and Daryl was taken as a prisoner of war.

Why did she have to make the deal?

I asked myself this as we raced for the Hilltop, trying to get Maggie there before we lost a third person today. Or fifth, depending on if the Dixons are killed.

Why did she have to make the deal?

Maybe if Negan got both of us, he would've let the others go. They wouldn't be gone. Sasha wouldn't have lost another lover. Maggie wouldn't be widowed at twenty-something. Carl wouldn't have lost Clary again. Daryl wouldn't be carrying the guilt of Glenn's death, because if I know him, he's blaming himself for it.

I should've fought for them. For her. You fool! Why didn't you fight harder for her?!

~Clary~

They separated Daryl and I the moment we pulled into the factory serving as the Saviors' base. "What is this place?" I inquired, looking out the window before back to Negan. "It have a name?"

"Yeah, your new home," Negan said, grinning. "Welcome to the Sanctuary."

"'The Sanctuary,'" I repeated.

"You're coming with me," Negan said, grabbing my arm as I exited the truck behind him. I watched as Dwight dragged Daryl off in the opposite direction, wanting to reach for him even though I knew I couldn't. I turned away, following Negan. He dragged me with him to the walkway that overlooked the warehouse floor, dozens of Saviors below. As soon as they saw Negan, they quieted, kneeling before him.

"Look at that!" Negan laughed, ridiculously happy. "Look at it, Clary!" He turned to me, grasping my chin in one hand and forcing me to look at him as he leaned down. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Did you see it, dear Executioner? Do you see the world I rule? And you get to rule it with me!"

He dropped his hand from my chin, wrapping an arm around my waist as he pulled me to the railing. "Everyone!" he called. "I'd like to introduce someone special! This is the Executioner! She reports directly to me, and you report to her! She is my eyes and ears! The Executioner is Negan!"

Oh, sweet Christmas, I'm fucked.

The Saviors erupted into cheers, Negan grinning. "Bucky," I whispered, my voice drowned out by the cheers. "Oh, Bucky, where are you? Where are you when I need you the most?"

~Bucky~

Jesus met us as we pulled into the Hilltop, understanding the gravity of the situation right away. He watched silently, hands clasped in front of him, as Steve carried Maggie to Harlan's, Sasha following closely beside him. Rick helped Rosita and Eugene carry Abraham's body out, while I took Glenn's on my own. Carl, Aaron, and Michonne tried to help, but I shook my head at them. I did everything I could to try to ignore the blood on my clothes from his head. I was the last person out, and when Jesus realized there was no one behind me, he paled. "Bucky," he said slowly. "Is… is her body in there?"

I didn't answer, unable to form any words. I walked away, following the three with Abraham's body to where we were burying them. "Bucky…" Jesus started, his voice trailing off as I walked away.

Rick, Rosita, and Eugene walked away after they put Abraham down, rejoining the others. I put Glenn down, sitting by his head. "I'm sorry, Glenn," I said softly. "I'm so sorry." My voice broke as the image of his death replayed in my head, the image of Clary's horrified and blood splattered face watching as her brother was murdered. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop him. And now, she might as well be dead."

"It was Negan," Jesus said from behind me, and I turned to find him standing there. "Negan did this. But what the hell happened?"

"He wanted us," I told him. "Clary did everything not to let him take me. He made her kill Abraham, tried to make her kill Glenn."

Jesus's eyes watered as he covered his mouth with his hands, and he quickly wiped them. "Negan has her? And Daryl?"

I nodded once, and Jesus offered me a hand. "C'mon. We should get to Barrington." I took it, letting him lead me into the mansion. "I just… I can't believe that she'd willingly go with him, even to save you."

"She made me activate her."

Jesus dropped my hand, turning to me. "You activated the Executioner?!"

"I never wanted to!" I sobbed, sinking back onto a couch. "I should've fought harder for her!"

Jesus took a seat beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "There was nothing you could do," he said sadly. "You know that, right?"

"I should've done something."

There were footsteps in the parlor, but I hardly paid them any attention as I assumed it was one of my people. However, I knew it wasn't when an accented voice said, "You lost someone."

I looked up to see a man standing there. I immediately recognized him as T'Challa, the son of the former king of Wakanda, T'Chaka. I guess he's king now, seeing as his father was killed. T'Challa continued, "Someone important to you. Now you know how I felt, Winter Soldier."

"I didn't kill your father," I said as I tried to wipe my eyes, to no avail. The tears just kept flowing. "I was in Romania, getting ready to return to the States. I take it you followed me here."

"I came," T'Challa said, stepping towards Jesus and me, "chasing the man that killed my baba."

"I don't do that anymore," I pleaded, desperate to make T'Challa understand that I didn't kill his father. "Please, I didn't kill your father. Vienna wasn't me."

"And why should I believe you?"

"Because you have no other choice!"

Jesus placed a hand on my back, looking up at the man before us. "T'Challa," he said. "Go easy on him. Please, believe him. He really didn't kill your father. T'Challa, Negan just took some of the people he cares about, maybe the most. He lost people. They all did."

"Clary might as well be dead," I sobbed, burying my face in my hands.

"No, Bucky, we'll get her back," Jesus tried to assure me. "We will. We've done it before."

~T'Challa~

I didn't feel much in the mood to talk to anyone as I returned to the Kingdom, barely even saying hello to Alvaro as he opened the gate. I knew I had to, so I went straight to Ezekiel.

In Wakanda, I would've become king after my father's death. I preferred to serve as more of a protector, though. When I met Ezekiel, and when he learned that I was Prince T'Challa of Wakanda, he stepped aside to allow me to rule over the Kingdom. I simply told him that I would instead serve as his right-hand man and protect our community as the Black Panther.

Unfortunately, I wasn't strong enough to defend our Kingdom against the Saviors. Sure, I had the strength, speed, and agility of the Black Panther, as well as a suit made of vibranium; but there were simply too many Saviors.

I walked into the auditorium, Shiva growling when she heard the door opening but relaxing when she saw that it was me. "Prince T'Challa," King Ezekiel said. "You have returned. What news have you of our comrades, the Hilltop?"

"It's," I started, then paused with a sigh. "It's a very long story, your Majesty."

"Well, we have all the time in the world."

I climbed up on the stage, brushing my hand over Shiva's ears as I approached. "Ezekiel, this is something that you and I need to talk about."

Ezekiel seemed to understand that it was about the Saviors, so he said, "So be it. We shall speak in one hour. We have a guest arriving soon, and I do not want to frighten the fair maiden."

"Make it quick," I said as I took my place at Ezekiel's side. Jerry stood to Ezekiel's right, Shiva right beside her master on his left, and I stood just past Shiva. The auditorium door opened, Morgan wheeling in the grey-haired woman I had seen him arriving with the day prior.

"Well, here we are," Morgan said as he stopped the wheelchair in front of the stage. Shiva stood, growling, and the woman in the wheelchair stared in shock. "Yeah. I, uh, I forgot to say that Ezekiel has a tiger."

Shiva roared, and Ezekiel ran his hand over her back, commanding, "Shiva, enough. The fair maiden has been through a myriad of trials. They are our guests."

"Chill it up, S," Jerry hissed. "Chill it up!"

Ezekiel looked over at his main guardian. "Jerry, you are a faithful steward, but your words leave me pitch-kettled. I understand your concern, Shiva. You haven't met Carol. Nor have I. But if she is a friend of Morgan, we shall consider her a friend of the realm until proven otherwise."

"Carol," I said. "How are you feeling?"

Carol was still in shock from Shiva, so Morgan answered for her. "She's doing better, thanks to you and your people."

"Indeed," Ezekiel said. "It pleases me to see you up and about, Carol. I am King Ezekiel, and this is the Black Panther, Prince T'Challa. Welcome to the Kingdom." Carol's eyes never left Shiva as she paced in a circle, settling down beside Ezekiel. "You have been addressed by the king, yet you remain silent. Do I detect skepticism? Perhaps you think me mad. Perhaps you see this place as nothing more than a mirage. So, tell me… what do you think of the Kingdom, Carol? What do you think of the king?"

A smile crossed Carol's face as she struggled to adjust to everything that was happening before her, finally saying, "I… I think you're amazing. It's amazing. And you, Prince T'Challa, well, I can't believe you're here. And your Sheba…"

"It's Shiva," Jerry corrected.

"Shiva," Carol repeated. "Amazing. I would be speechless if I wasn't already speaking. I don't know what the hell's going on in the most wonderful way."

Ezekiel chuckled as I said, "As Morgan is aware, we encourage those who find respite here to enjoy the fruits of our grandeur for as long as they like, so long as they contribute."

"Drink from the well, replenish the well," Ezekiel said. "Once you're healed, of course."

"Of course," Carol said. "All about the well."

"Well said," Jerry chimed in.

"Jerry," Ezekiel said.

I gave Jerry a side-eye before grinning and adding, "We care about the wellbeing of our people here in the Kingdom."

"Prince T'Challa," Ezekiel sighed.

"What? That was funny."

"It was a well-timed joke," Jerry chimed in.

I glanced over at Ezekiel as he shook his head. "We've known Jerry since the beginning. We should've learned to expect his puns by now."

"We should have, but we haven't," Ezekiel said with a grin. "Ah! Where are my manners?" Ezekiel snapped his fingers at Jerry, then gestured to the fruit as Jerry took off to retrieve it. "Please, partake. We have magnificent apples, nectarines, pomegranates. All of it is grown right here inside the Kingdom."

Jerry presented the basket of fruit to Carol, declaring, "It's fruit time."

"I… I couldn't," Carol protested.

"Oh, come, now," Ezekiel argued. "At least, take a pomegranate."

"You know, I always found them too much trouble."

"Sweet fruit surrounded by bitter. They're something of a contradiction, but heaven for the effort."

"You can park some chocolate in front of me and watch it go bye-bye, but pomegranates? Just not for me, thanks."

"Well, if there's anything you want or need, just let us know," I told her.

"If you enjoy music, we have a guitarist whose talent brings tears to the eye," Ezekiel added. "And we have a small choir." Ezekiel glanced between Jerry and I. "And a couple of jesters, apparently."

"Thank you," Carol said. "All I need is some more rest… and maybe a hairbrush." Carol chuckled softly. "No one told me I'd be meeting royalty. Anyway, Your Majesty—I should call you 'Your Majesty,' right?"

"You can," Ezekiel told her.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Carol bowed her head. "It's a pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine, Carol. Be well."

Morgan moved to wheel Carol out of the auditorium, and I said, "I hope you feel better, Carol."

"Thank you, Prince T'Challa," Carol said, with a nod of her head. Morgan wheeled Carol away, and I waited until they were gone to turn to Ezekiel. "We need to have that talk. Now. It's about more than just the Saviors."

Ezekiel seemed to realize what other group I was referring to, and he turned to Jerry. "Leave us," he commanded.

"I'll be within hollering distance," Jerry said and left with a nod.

Ezekiel looked up at me. "What happened?"

"The deal that Gregory made, it wasn't just that one group like we all thought," I informed him. "There's more. More Saviors, more outposts. Negan is still out there. He's taken over another group. He killed two of theirs and took two more."

"But Hydra is still with us, yes?"

"Ezekiel, there is no Hydra. They were wiped out. The Executioner isn't there to take out another outpost. We're on our own now."

"So we continue to play along," Ezekiel decided. "That was our one chance to be free, and it didn't work. We'll continue to offer tribute to the Saviors, and we will act as though we had no part in the slaughter of their comrades. We cannot risk the Saviors attacking the Kingdom."

~Negan~

"So… let me get this straight," I said, leaning forward against the table in the conference room. "Let me make sure I'm hearing this right, Gavin. Your men can't handle a little hiccup with the Kingdom? It's one guy, and he hasn't tried to kill any of you. He's just an annoyance. And you want me to send my Executioner with you to deal with him?"

"It's… more than just that, sir," Gavin replied, sitting back in his chair at the other end of the table. He glanced towards the Executioner, who stood silently beside me. "The Executioner is a Hydra assassin that has the skill set to take out an entire outpost of our men alone. She's scary as shit. I think that if I have her there a time or two, they will fall back into line. Please, sir, let me have her for a meeting, just to keep Richard in check, to ensure something doesn't happen."

I paused for a moment, considering it. Then, I said, "Executioner!"

She snapped to attention beside me, awaiting orders.

"It's your first big assignment," I said, eyes never leaving Gavin as I spoke. "Clary, you're gonna go with Gavin here. You'll accompany him to the next meeting with the Kingdom. You'll provide any backup they need, and you will ensure that the members of the Kingdom know exactly who they're dealing with if they act out."

"Yes, sir," Clary said with a nod. She looked to Gavin for orders. "When do we leave?"

"Now," Gavin replied. "Let's go." Clary gave a nod, walking out the door. Gavin paused. "Thank you, sir. I'll return her to you after the next meeting."

"Take care of my Executioner, Gavin," I told him. "I paid a price for her."

~T'Challa~

Morgan knew who the Saviors were as soon as they arrived at our weekly meeting. There was someone new with them this week; she looked tough and dangerous. The leader of this little outpost, Gavin, must've told Negan about the trouble that Richard has been causing. This girl was there to provide protection for the Saviors, as well as muscle if my people tried anything. She was like the Dora Milaje of Wakanda.

I hope Okoye's alive. I need her there for Mother and Shuri.

A reflection of light caught my eyes, and I realized that this girl had a metal arm. Her metal fingers glinted in the sunlight from where they stuck out from the fingerless gloves she wore. Her eyes were on Morgan, who stood between Benjamin and me. There was a hint of recognition in them, almost as if she knew him.

"Here I was worried we were early," Gavin said as he approached.

"Our arrangement is something I consider with the utmost seriousness," Ezekiel responded. "We will fulfill our obligations on time, every time."

"Yes, indeedy you do. And you will." Gavin turned to slaughtered pigs in the back of the truck, counting them under his breath. "I count eight. That's good. They look bigger than last time. That's good, too."

"They were well-fed," Richard informed him. "I made sure of it."

"We appreciate your hospitality. Lucky for us, we brought two trucks. How about you help us load 'em up? Executioner, give 'em a hand."

The girl—the Executioner, I realized— didn't respond. She was too distracted still staring at Morgan. Gavin repeated, "Executioner." He snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Clary!"

She jerked back, paying attention now. "Yes?"

"Help 'em with the pigs," Gavin ordered.

One of the Saviors pulled the truck around, and the Executioner gave our men a hand moving the eight pigs. Alvaro took the last one, putting it in the truck bed and closing the tailgate. Alvaro rejoined us, the Executioner returning to the Saviors. Jared turned to Richard, saying, "Hey, asshole, how about a smile? This?" Jared pointed to the pigs. "This is nothing. We've been letting you off easy."

Richard took a step forward, challenging, "You sure you don't have that backward, kid?"

Jared chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure."

He started to turn away, then spun back around, throwing a punch. Richard ducked under Jared's fist, coming up and elbowing Jared in the face. The Saviors immediately drew their guns, while my people did the same. I extended my claws, but I didn't put on my helmet. The Executioner sighed, "Poimet'."

"Cease this," Ezekiel commanded. "Lower your weapons."

"Executioner!" Gavin ordered.

The Executioner muttered something in Russian to herself, stepping forward. She pulled Richard off of Jared, putting herself between the two. She kept one hand on Jared's chest, keeping him behind her, as she grasped the front of Richard's armor in her metal fist. She pulled him towards her, growling, "Leave him alone, mudak."

Ezekiel turned to Gavin, telling him, "This is not what we do. Call off your Executioner."

The Executioner turned her head, looking to Gavin. He nodded once, saying, "You heard the man. Executioner, take a step back."

The Executioner stepped back, and Jared looked around. "Free shot?" he questioned. "Oh, I love this shit."

He turned back to Richard, throwing a punch that sent Richard stumbling. Ezekiel said, "Gavin, tell your man to stop."

Jared threw another punch, this time knocking Richard to the ground. He fell back against a jersey wall, and Ezekiel tried, "Gavin!"

"Alright! Jared!" Gavin shouted as Jared drew his fist back for another shot. "Hey! The man said stop! He's been good to us. We've taken up more than enough of his time."

Gavin whistled for his men, and they loaded into their trucks. The Executioner grabbed the back of Jared's shirt, hissing, "C'mon, dumbass. Time to go." As she dragged Jared away, he raised his fist, flipping Richard off. "Get in the fucking truck."

"Same time next week, Ezekiel," Gavin said. "It's a produce week, so… produce. You got the list. Not one bit less." Gavin climbed in the passenger seat of the truck as the Executioner and Jared climbed in the bed. Gavin leaned out the window, looking back at us as I pulled Richard to his feet. "Otherwise, you know… he's gonna have to go first."

As the Saviors were pulling away, that's when it hit me. Bucky said the name Clary and how she was with the Saviors. I realized that the Executioner, that was Clary. That was the girl Bucky was so upset over. I saw how young she was, horrified that someone that young was like Bucky and with the Saviors. I had to believe that was she was being forced to be with them.

To Morgan, Ezekiel inquired, "You've encountered them before? Their group?" Morgan dipped his head in acknowledgment. "The man you killed to save Carol, he was one of them as well?"

"He was, yeah," Morgan said.

"The Executioner, you know her as well?"

"I know her by a different name," Morgan said. "I-I don't understand. What the hell happened? She was one of my people."

~Clary~

Gavin sent me back to the Sanctuary with the pigs that went there, along with his request that I return for their next meeting with the Saviors. The guard at the gate opened it, allowing me in. I pulled up by the front door, climbing out and handing the keys to one of the Saviors. "You know the drill," I told him. "Where's Negan?"

"Upstairs, ma'am," the Savior replied.

I don't think I'd ever admit it out loud, but the respect that came with being Negan's Executioner was kinda nice. Even though Simon was Negan's right-hand man, I was the one that the Saviors listened to right after Negan. I had practically full control of the Saviors, all because Negan was fool enough to think that I was with him.

I headed inside, climbing the flights of stairs up to the floor with Negan's apartment. I entered, saying a quick hello to his wives as I walked past them and knocking on the door to his room. "It's the Executioner," I called. "I've got a message from Gavin."

"Come in," Negan called. I opened the door, entering. Negan sat on the couch facing the door, a notebook in his hand. "How'd the drop go?"

"Richard's worse than Gavin thought," I told him. "Got in a fight with Jared. Gavin has requested that I join him for the days they meet with the Kingdom. Just those days, of course. I'm yours every other day."

"I can do that," Negan said with a nod. "How about what they offered? Good?"

"Eight pigs," I confirmed. "Good sized. Gavin said they were bigger than the last time."

"Good, good," Negan said. "Now, would you be a doll and go clean your brother up?"

At those words, my blood ran cold. Oh, God, what did they do to him?

I took off without replying, rushing to Dwight's room. I pounded on the door, denting it. Dwight opened it, asking, "What?"

"Keys, now," I ordered. "Daryl's cell. Whatever the fuck you did to him, Negan's sending me to clean him up."

Dwight handed over the key ring, along with a hand towel and bottle of water. "You'll probably need that," he said. "And by the way, I didn't touch your brother. I was out dealing with a Code Orange."

I didn't acknowledge that I had heard him, instead darting down the hall to Daryl's cell. I fumbled with the keys in my haste, taking longer than it should have to unlock the door. It swung open, and I saw Daryl inside.

He sat in the sweats marking him as a prisoner, huddled in the corner farthest away from the door. He looked like a scared child, his arms wrapped around his legs with his hair covering his face. Daryl flinched as I took a step forward, my shadow falling over him. "Daryl?" I whispered.

Daryl lifted his head as I knelt in front of him, and I let out a sigh of relief when I saw his face. "Oh, God, I was so scared it was worse," I said.

They had just gotten a few punches in. It had split his lip and given him a bloody nose, as well as cuts along his cheekbones and brows. But it wasn't nearly as bad as I was expecting.

I raised my hand to brush his hair back, and my brother flinched. I whispered, "Hey, Daryl, I'm not gonna hurt you. It's me. It's Clary."

I grabbed the lantern from the hall, closing the door behind me so no one would overhear Daryl and I. I switched the lantern on, sitting it in the corner. I knelt back in front of Daryl, brushing his hair back and kissing his forehead. Daryl wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his face in my shoulder. I tucked his head under my chin, rubbing gentle circles on his back. I closed my eyes, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you," I whispered. "I love you and I'm sorry for everything."

Daryl didn't reply, just stayed latched onto me. "Darry, I'm sorry, I hate to do it," I whispered, "but I don't know how long we got. I gotta get you cleaned up."

Daryl was silent as I released him, wetting the hand towel Dwight had given me and gently dabbing away the blood from Daryl's face. Once I was done there, I went to his knuckles. Daryl had put up a hell of a fight, but there were simply too many Saviors for him to win. "I saw Morgan," I told him. "He's with some other people."

"What?" Daryl asked.

"They're called the Kingdom," I continued. "Prince T'Challa from Wakanda is with them."

"Why are you—"

"T'Challa's the Black Panther. He's a superhero. I think that we can get 'em on our side."

"You want to fight," Daryl said as it dawned on him.

"I'll get us out, Daryl. Don't worry. Just give me a couple of days." I looked down at my brother. "Okay? Can you do that? Can you hold on that long?"

Daryl paused for a moment, not meeting my eyes. Then, he looked up, whispering, "Make it quick, Cheyenne. Please."

~Rick~

"Little pig, little pig, let me in!"

I heard Negan's voice from the front gate, and as I approached, I saw Spencer opening the chain link part of the gate for him. "Well?" Negan said.

"Who are you?" Spencer inquired.

"Oh, you better be jokin'. Negan, Lucille. I know I had to make a pretty strong first impression." Negan looked to me as I arrived behind Spencer. "Well, hello, there. Do not make me have to ask."

"You said a week," I said as I opened the metal part of the gate. "You're early."

"I missed you," Negan said, grinning.

A walker appeared between two of the three trucks Negan brought, and he turned, taking Lucille off of his shoulder as he did so. "C'mon out here, Rick," he urged me. "Watch this. Calling it!"

I watched as Negan swung his bat once, killing the walker. "Ha ha ha!" Negan laughed, turning to face me. "Easy peasy lemon squeezy!" He turned to his men. "Alright, everybody! Let's get started. Big day. Hey, Rick, you see that? What I just did? That is some service! I mean, we almost get turned away at the gate. 'Who is that guy, anyway?' Do I get mad? Do I throw a fit? Do I bash some ginger's dome in? Nope. I just take care of one of these dead pricks that could've killed one of y'all. Service."

Negan whistled, and the door to one of his trucks opened. I watched Clary climb out, walking forward and stepping over the body of the walker. She looked down at it, then at Negan. "See that?" Negan asked. "I did that. I killed that dead fuck. I'm taking care of these fine people you once called your own!"

Clary took her place at Negan's side, the same spot where she had been standing that night he forced her to kill Abraham. Negan walked into Alexandria with Clary on his heels, pausing only a moment and not giving me time to argue as he pressed Lucille into my hand, ordering, "Hold this."

I stared after him and after Clary. Clary, right beside Negan. Right beside the man that killed one of her brothers and imprisoned the other. Seeing Clary right beside Negan, I knew that this was no longer the Clary I used to know, not by a long shot. The Clary I once knew was dead, and a prisoner of war turned soldier was in her place.