Chapter 1: Sound the Bugle

~Clary~

"I simply cannot fucking decide."

At Negan's statement, all of us in the lineup look around at each other, thinking maybe we'll get out of this. Maybe we're off the hook. Maybe we all get to live another day because Negan cannot decide. Then, he laughs, and I know we're not all getting out of this alive.

"I've got an idea," he says. Lucille lands on me first, then points to the rest of us in turn as he says, "Eenie… meenie… miney… mo… Catch… a tiger… by his toe… if he hollers… let him go… My mother… told me… to pick… the very best one… and you… are…"

Negan becomes silent, making a show of pointing to each of us. He pauses on me, but I don't see it. I'm looking to the sky possibly one last time, waiting for the sun to rise. Please, I silently beg, let it be me.

"It."

I'm not it.

"Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy's other fucking eye out and feed it to his father," Negan threatens. "And then we'll start."

It's Abraham.

"You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you're all gonna be doing that."

Crack!

Negan swings, and the image of Abraham getting back up, blood dripping from his already red hair, will haunt me for the rest of my life. For however long that'll be, as Abe once said.

"Look at that," Negan laughs. "Taking it like a champ!"

Then, Abraham says the most Abraham-est thing imaginable. "Suck… my… nuts."

Negan swings a second time, and this time, Abraham doesn't get back up. Across the lineup, Eugene squeezes his eyes closed at seeing his friend beaten to death. Me? I watch. I watch the entire thing. Why? I have to. I don't look away, not once. I have to be here for this. Negan's serious, and he's scary as shit. I have to watch to learn. Learn what he's capable of, learn his style, learn what makes him kill. So I can make sure he doesn't kill any more of my family.

"Oh, my goodness!" Negan laughs as he steps away from Abraham's body. He swings Lucille around, causing Abraham's blood to splatter onto Rick's cheek, running down it into his beard. "Look at this! You guys, look at my dirty girl!" Negan's eyes land on Rosita, the only one not staring at him in horror. He makes his way over to her, holding Lucille inches from Rosita's face, forcing her to look at the weapon he used to kill the man she loved. "Sweetheart, lay your eyes on this." Negan looks from Abraham's body to Rosita, putting two and two together when he sees how Rosita's shaking. "Oh, damn. Were you together? That sucks. But if you were, you should know there was a reason for all this. Red, and hell he was, is, and will ever be red. He just took one or six or seven for the team! So take a damn look." Rosita still won't look at the bat. "Take a fucking look!"

Daryl's had enough by then, scrambling to his feet and throwing a punch that knocks Negan back. The Saviors rush to subdue Daryl before he can attack their leader again. If it were me, I wouldn't have gone for a punch. I would've gone for the fucking bat and used it to bash Negan's skull in. Rick barks, "Daryl!"

"No!" Negan barks, as if he's disciplining a dog. "Oh, no. That? Oh, my!" Negan crouches next to Daryl, where the Saviors have gotten him on the ground. "That is a no-no. The whole thing! Not one bit of that shit flies here!"

Maybe I could grab Lucille right now and―OH FUCK!

My heart skips a beat when I see Dwight aiming Daryl's own crossbow at him, and I know I have to act fast because Dwight's merciless. He looks to Negan, asking, "You want me to do it? Right here?"

"Dwight, please!" I beg. "Please! Dwight! I aimed at the sky! I shot in the air, you son of a bitch!"

Negan looks at Daryl, to me, and then to Dwight. "No," he says. "No, you don't kill them. Not until you try a little." Dwight stands down, giving the two Saviors a hand dragging Daryl back in line as Negan gets to his feet. "And anyway… that's not how it works. Now, I already told you people. First one's free. Then, what'd I say? Tiger, what'd I say?"

Negan points to me with Lucille, and I realize that I'm the tiger. I answer, "You'd shut that shit down."

He puts a hand to ear. "One more time."

"You'd shut that shit down," I repeat. "No exceptions."

"That's right. No exceptions. Now, I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with… but I'm a man of my word." Negan makes his way closer to Glenn and I, and my heart starts beating faster and faster as I fear for both of our lives. "First impressions are important." Yeah, well my first impression is that you're a fucking psycho. "I need you to know me. So… back to it!"

He spins, and for a second, I think that I'm going to be the one to die because Daryl didn't follow the rules. But Negan said he wouldn't kill me, and he's a man of his word, right? Still, I rise on my knees to meet him, unafraid of death, just like Abraham. But I'm not the second victim. Instead, Lucille rains down on Glenn, Maggie letting out a scream. Glenn gets back up, too, but he was hit harder than Abraham. There's more blood, and his left eye is bulging out of his head. Oh god, the blood. There's so much blood. He moans, trying to form any words. No, no, no no no no, please, no.

Negan leans down, trying to get Glenn's attention; but all of Glenn's attention is on his wife. "Buddy, you still there?" Negan questions. "I just don't know. It seems like you're trying to speak, but you just took a hell of a hit! I just popped your skull so hard, your eyeball just popped out! And it is gross as shit!"

"Maggie," Glenn finally manages, "I'll find you."

Suddenly, it's just the three of us in Woodbury again, Glenn taking my hand and whispering to just look at him, that it'll be okay. I find myself reaching for his hand, whispering, "I'll avenge you. A thousand times over."

Negan turns away, drawing out Glenn's suffering. This is it. This is my brother's end, my sidekick's last moments. And he's in so much pain. Our hands meet, and his tightens around mine. I almost wish Negan would do it already, just so Glenn's not in any more pain. Negan straightens, looking to Maggie. "Oh," he says softly. "Oh, hell. I can see this is hard on you guys. I am sorry. I truly am. But I did say it. No exceptions!"

Negan spins, swinging Lucille. Glenn's blood sprays across my face, his hand leaving mine. I forget about the consequences as I move, catching Glenn before he hits the ground. His head lands against my stomach, painting me with his blood. "Oh, fuck no," Negan growls.

He puts his hand on my injured shoulder, squeezing, and I let out a cry of pain as he throws me off to the side. I'm back on my knees within seconds, and Negan doesn't hesitate to continue beating in his head. With each raise of his bat, more of Glenn's blood is splashed on me. I can't do anything but stare at Glenn's body as he's murdered, his body twitching even after he's dead. Then, I look to Daryl, who watches in equal horror. Our eyes meet. "This was you," I say slowly, and heads turn to me. "This was you!" My voice rises to a scream, and Daryl shrinks back. "This is on you! His blood's on your hands! THIS IS YOU!"

Negan laughs. "Damn, ya bunch of pussies. I'm just getting started." He swings again and again, bashing Glenn's head in until there's nothing left. Glenn's blood splatters on me with every swing, and I'm soon covered in my brother's blood. "Lucille is thirsty. She's a vampire bat!" Everyone's eyes are on Negan as he makes his way towards Rick, terrified of a third victim tonight. "What? Was the joke really that bad?"

Rick lifts his head, promising, "I'm gonna kill you."

Negan kneels in front of Rick, holding the bloodied Lucille between them. "What? I didn't quite catch that. You're gonna have to speak up."

"Rick, shut up," I rush, hoping that he'll listen and I can protect him. "Don't—"

"I'm gonna kill you," Rick repeats. "Not today, not tomorrow, but I'm gonna kill you."

"Jesus," Negan sighs. "Simon. What'd he have, a knife?"

"He had a hatchet," the Savior that did all the speaking earlier tonight says.

Negan looks up at his man. "A hatchet?"

"He had an ax."

Negan chuckles, looking back to Rick. "Simon's my right hand man." Good, I know the second person I need to kill. "Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without 'em? A whole lot of work. Do you have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing?" Negan glances over his shoulder at me. "Maybe Hilary Swank over there?" Negan looks back at Rick. "Oh, or did I…" He clicks his tongue, imitating the sound of the bat as it hit Glenn and Abraham. "Sure. Yeah. Give me his ax." Simon hands the hatchet over, and Negan tucks it into his belt as he gets to his feet. "I'll be right back." He takes the collar of Rick's coat, pulling Rick with him as he turns. "Maybe Rick will be with me." He drags Rick with him towards the RV. "And if not, well, we can just turn these people inside out, won't we? I mean, the ones that are left."

~Rick~

"Well, look at that," Negan says as he gets in the driver's seat of the RV. "Dawn is breaking. It's a brand new day, Rick. What was that Clary was saying? I want you to think about what could've happened, think about what happened, and think about what can still happen."

The engine starts the second time Negan tries it, and I stay on the RV floor as he drives. I do what he says; I think about what could've happened, what happened, and what can still happen. What's happened and what's going on. I think of each person in the lineup, about how we first met and the time we spent together. And now, all of their lives are in more danger than ever. Eventually, the RV stops, and Negan steps back. He takes a seat on the couch beside me, looking down. "You are mine," he says. "Those people back there, they are mine." He holds up my hatchet. "This is mine."

As Negan opens the door, I can hear the growling of walkers. Negan kills one by the door, then throws the ax onto the roof. "Hey, Rick, go get my ax," he says. "Let's be friends." A second walker approaches the RV, and Negan uses his bat to kill it. "I said, get my ax."

I get up, turning to face him; and Negan shoves me out of the RV and closes the door. As I hit the ground, walkers stumble towards me. I get to my feet, shoving them out of my way as I try to figure out where I am. I make my way towards the back of the RV, where the ladder to the roof is, shoving walkers down as I move. When I hear chains clinking, I instantly know where we are. The bridge that they threw the man off of, the one that I wouldn't let Aaron waste a bullet on. I reach the ladder, scrambling up it. A walker grabs my foot as I'm about halfway up, and I kick it to free myself. I stand on top of the RV, looking around at the burning logs and walkers. I turn, facing the walker that was once the man that was thrown off the bridge. I get down on my knees, just like all the others still are back in that clearing.

"Bet you thought you were all gonna grow old together," Negan says from inside the RV, "sitting around the table at Sunday dinner and the happily ever after. No. Doesn't work like that, Rick. Not anymore. Think about what happened." I lay back on the RV, staring up at the sky with the hatchet beside me. "People died, Rick. It's what happened. Doesn't mean the rest of them have to. Give me my ax. Give me… my… ax!" I look over at it beside me. "Thought you were the guy, Rick. Maybe it's not her. Maybe you didn't give up the crown to a teenager." I start to get to my feet as I think of Clary back there, about how she stepped up and maybe saved my life. If I die, then she's going to be left in charge, and I can't add that kind of pressure to what she's already feeling. "We'll give it one more go. Now, I really want you to try this time. Last chance! Bring me my ax!"

I jolt to my feet, grabbing the ax, when I hear the gunshots. I take off running, jumping off the back of the RV and grabbing the walker hanging from the bridge. I drop the hatchet as I scramble to hold on, and the walker's hands close around my shoulders, trying to pull me up to bite me. I slide down just a bit, and the walkers below are grabbing at my legs, trying to pull me down. The walker I'm hanging onto is starting to fall, its head beginning to detach from its body. Gunfire rings out, and the walkers below me fall to the ground, dead. Negan. He fires at ones around me as the walker's body detaches from its head, and I fall. "Clock is ticking, Rick," he calls before the closing the RV window. "Think about what can still happen."

I struggle to get out of the pile of walkers, some of them still alive, as I think about what can still happen. I imagine what's left of my family being killed like Glenn and Abraham. I become more and more frantic as I think of Carl, of Michonne, of Clary. I crawl around on my hands and knees, desperately searching for the ax. I scramble to my feet, swinging the ax and killed a walker in my way. Negan blows the horn, causing the walkers to turn away from me towards the RV. I take them out from behind, keeping my back to the RV. When I reach the door, I find that it's locked. A walker appears from my right, and I don't have enough time to get my hatchet up. I slam its head against the RV, and it's enough to kill it. I drop my hatchet as I have to shove others back, and I drop to one knee to pick it up. I start to get up to kill the walkers, but the door opens, Negan firing on the walkers. I scramble in after him, pausing to catch my breath. Negan holds out a hand, and I place my hatchet in it before taking a seat.

"Attaboy!" Negan says with a grin. He drives the bloodied ax into the table, then starts the RV. I sit at the table, tense and exhausted, as he drives back. I close my eyes, then open them as Negan claps his hands. "We're here, prick." I glare up at him as he stands above me, searching each of the cabinets. "This must be hard for you, right? I mean, you've been King Shit for so long. I don't care, Rick, if you're in charge of your group or Clary is. Not as long as you people answer to me. Losing two of your own like that. Gettin' 'em clipped like that, one nut, then the other, and in front of your boy? That is some fucked up shit!" He pauses as he pulls a bottle of rubbing alcohol out of a cabinet. "Oh, goody." He steps back over with a rag in hand, unscrewing the bottle. "That girl might be now, but you were in charge before." He picks up the ax, wiping the blood off of it on my jacket. "Hell, you were probably addicted to it. And now, well, clip, clip, it's over." Negan pours the alcohol over the blade of the ax, wiping it off with the rag. "But you can still lead a nice, productive life producing for me." He holds the ax out for me to take. "I think you're gonna need it. I just got a feeling. So take it."

I take the ax.

~Clary~

Rick falls to the ground as soon as the RV door opens, hatchet in hand. Negan steps out behind him, dragging him back across the clearing and dropping him in front of the lineup. From what I can see, it doesn't look like Negan hurt Rick. "Well, here we are," Negan says. "Let me ask you something, Rick, do you even know what that little trip was about?" He says nothing. "Speak when you're spoken to."

"Okay, okay," Rick says.

"That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the same damn way, like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work. So, question is, do I give you another chance?"

"Yeah," Rick says. His breathing is shaky, and he won't look up at Negan. "Yes."

Negan pats Rick's shoulder. "Okay. Alright. And here it is, grand prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads." I'm pushed forward a bit as I feel the barrel of a rifle pressing into the back of my skull. "Good. Now level with their noses so if you have to fire, it'll be a real mess." Negan turns to the Savior behind me. "Not her. Get her up here."

The Saviors try to manhandle me to the middle of the lineup, but I push them off, snapping, "Get off me! I can do it myself!"

Negan laughs. "You got spunk, Million Dollar Baby. That's why I like you."

The Saviors push me to the ground beside Rick, and I follow Negan's gaze to Carl. "Kid. Right here. Kid… now."

Carl looks to me, and I nod, silently telling him to comply. He gets to his feet, stepping forward. I watch, terrified for the three of us standing here, as Negan unbuckles his belt, pulling it off. "You a Southpaw?" Negan questions.

"Am I a what?" Carl asks.

"He's askin' if you're a lefty," I say.

Carl glances down at me before glaring back up at Negan. "No."

"Good," Negan says, tightening his belt on a spot just above Carl's left elbow. "That hurt?"

"No."

"It should. It's supposed to." Negan steps back, and I see that he's wrapped his belt around Carl's arm. Oh, god, no, please. "Alright, kid, get on the ground next to Daddy." He takes Carl's hat, tossing it over is shoulder. "Spread them wings."

Carl gets down on his hands and knees, and Negan pushes him down until he's lying flat on the ground. "Simon," Negan says, looking to his right hand man. "You got a pen?"

"Yeah," Simon says, searching his pockets. He pulls out a marker, tossing it to Negan.

Negan uncaps the pen, holding it between his teeth as he kneels next to Carl, pushing his sleeve up. "Sorry, kid," Negan says, drawing a line on Carl's forearm. "This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across the forearm." Negan pulls the marker back, and I see the line is the middle of his forearm. "There you go. Gives you a little leverage."

"Please, please," Rick begs. "Please don't."

"No, no, please don't do this," I add.

"Me?" Negan questions, looking between Rick and I before finally landing on me. "I ain't doin' shit." He gets to his feet. "Alright, Rick, I want you to give Clary your ax. Clary, I want you to take the ax and cut your boyfriend's left arm off, right on that line. Now, I know, I know, you're gonna have to process that a second. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then all the people back home die, and then you. Eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."

I'm faced with two choices. Maim Carl, and our count will be two dead and three injured. Or, I refuse, and we'll all be dead. I almost consider the first option, until I remember Lee in that jewelry shop in Savannah. Clem said they got the arm that was bitten off in time, that it was the blood loss. I look down at Carl, not wanting him to end up dead in a jewelry shop like Lee.

"You―you don't have to do this!" Michonne stutters. "We understand. We understand."

"You understand," Negan says. "Yeah. Good. I'm not sure Rick or Clary do. I'm gonna need a clean cut, right there on that line. Now, I know this is a fucked up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice. Nothing messy, clean, forty-five degrees. Give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine. Probably. Clary… this needs to happen now, chop, chop, or I will crush the little fella's skull myself."

"It can be me," Rick pleads, his eyes starting to water at the thought of anything happening to his son. "It can be me. You can do it to me. I can go with you."

"No. But, you can hold down junior's arm. This is the only way. Clary, pick up the ax." Negan turns to me as I hesitate to reach for the ax between Rick and I. "Not making a decision is a big decision. You really want to see all these people die? 'Cause you will. You will see every ugly thing. Oh, my god. Are you gonna make me count?"

"Just give me a minute," I plead. "We got all the time in the world, right?"

"Ten seconds, and then I start counting." The last person I'd expect to think of is the man I think of. Shane Walsh. "Five, four—You really want all this blood on your hands?! I will kill every last one of your people!"

"'When you look at it in the cold light of day," I say, looking up at Negan, "you're pretty much dead already.'"

"Okay, Clary, you win! I am counting! Three!"

"Please!" Rick begs. "Please! It can be me! Please!"

"Just fuckin' kill me!" I cry. "Not them! Please! Let it be me!"

"Two!" Negan barks. "This is it! One!"

I grab the ax, openly sobbing as I do so. Carl and I share a look, and I'm suddenly reminded of that day two years ago. The day Sophia went missing, the day I truly began to feel the effects of the apocalypse. I'm reminded of the way Carl looked when we were hiding under the cars, how he smiled at Sophia and I after we thought they were gone. I saw him during it, though, while the walker herd was making their way through. He always thought that I didn't see him, just because Sophia didn't.

But I'm not Sophia.

I picked up on it. I saw the fear in his eyes that day, one of the times he was truly scared during all of this. There's fear when you're in a tight spot, and then there's the real fear, the true terror. That's what I saw that day, the true fear. And I see it again now, in his remaining eye. Oh, how far we've come since that day. How much we've changed. If our past selves saw us today, the way we are now, they'd turn tail and run the other way. I wouldn't blame them. We're scary as shit now. Andy, from the Hilltop, said it best, but I don't think he ever met Negan. He said that we were scary, and that the Saviors had nothing on us. He never saw what Negan could do. What Negan's making me do.

"Please, don't!" I sob, looking up at Negan. "Don't make me do this!"

"It's okay," Carl says. My eyes flick down to him, our gazes meeting. "It's okay, baby. Just do it."

I raise the ax, and I only stop when I see Negan kneel beside Rick, grinning. Rick looks up, glancing at me before turning to Negan. My hand tightens around Carl's as I drop the ax, reaching across to Rick to keep myself up as I struggle to get enough air. When Rick notices that I'm starting to hyperventilate, he rests his hand on my back and slows his breathing, silently trying to get me to match his. Negan's not phased whatsoever, saying, "You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?" Rick and I nod, unable to speak. We hope that gets our message across, but it does nothing but piss Negan off. He grabs Rick's chin in one hand, mine in the other, and forces us to look at him. "Speak when you're spoken to! You answer to me! You provide for me!"

"Provide for you," Rick and I echo.

"You belong to me, right?!"

"Right," Rick says, and Negan looks to me. I add, "We belong to you."

"Right," Negan says, releasing us. "That is the look I wanted to see!" He gets to his feet, taking the hatchet with him. "We did it. All of us, together, even the dead guys on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award for sure! Today was a productive damn day!" Negan sighs. "Now, I hope, for all your sake that you get it now. That you understand how things works. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you, that is over now. Ah, Dwight, load him up."

I turn to find him pointing to my brother. Dwight pulls Daryl, who puts up a fight the entire time, to his feet, shoving him back into the van. Dwight aims his crossbow at him again, and Daryl moves from one side of the van to the other, on his hands and knees, like a trapped animal. Daryl's eyes meet mine, and I look away, knowing I'm powerless to help him. Negan kneels beside Rick and I, his eyes on me. "What?" he asks. "Nothing? Not even a peep?"

I look up at Negan through the hair in my eyes, whispering, "There's rules."

Negan chuckles. "You catch on quick, tiger."

"Please, don't hurt my brother," I blurt, then instantly regret speaking, even if it is begging Negan. We're not supposed to argue, right? We speak only when spoken to. But still, I can't help myself. Even though I hate this, being reduced to begging a man that killed my family, I still do it. And I don't beg, but here I am, willing to do whatever for Daryl. "Negan, please. I'll do whatever you want. We'll behave."

"Oh, we won't," Negan assures me. "Unless he gives us a reason to. I'm a man of my word, remember? He's got guts. Is it a family thing? You two aren't little bitches like someone I know. I like him. He's mine now. But you still want to try something, Rick? 'Not today, not tomorrow. Not today, not tomorrow.' I will cut pieces off of…" Negan pauses, looking up at one of his Saviors. "Hell's his name?"

"Daryl," Simon answers.

"Wow. That actually sounds right." Negan turns back to Rick and I. "I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep. Or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me." Negan chuckles, getting to his feet. "Welcome to a brand new beginning, you sorry shits! I'm gonna leave you a truck. Keep it. Use it to cart all the crap you're gonna find me. We'll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then, ta-ta."

The Saviors all break apart, each heading to their vehicle. It doesn't take long before they're all gone. They leave us in the clearing, Negan's words ringing in my ears. You belong to me.

"I don't belong to nobody."

~Aaron~

You gotta promise me something. You gotta take care of Clary.

Daryl's words from three months ago are the only thing I can think of as I stare at Clary. She and Carl mirror each other, each sitting with their arms wrapped around their legs. Clary sits with her back to almost everyone, staring at Glenn's body, while Carl sits with his back against hers. She's doesn't pay attention to anything, not even Carl as he ties Jesus's bandana around Clary's wrist.

I need you to take care of her for me.

She's in my care now, and I'm not letting this girl out of my sight after last night. I start to get up, to walk over to her, when Maggie pushes herself to her feet. "Maggie," Rick says. "Maggie, you need to sit down." He gets to his feet. "Maggie."

"No," she replies, making her way towards Glenn.

"We need to get you to the Hilltop," Rick says. "Clary, too."

"Y'all need to go get ready," Maggie returns.

"For what?" Rick inquires as I get to my feet, starting towards Clary.

"To fight them."

Carl looks up at her words, and I know immediately that he's in. "They have Daryl," Rick points out. "They have an army."

"We have Clary," I say. "We fix her up, and we all know she'll be ready to fight."

Rick looks down at her, then back up at me. "Do you really think that? Look at her and tell me she's in any condition to fight." I go silent, unable to. "We would die. All of us."

"Go home," Maggie orders, her voice breaking as she continues. "Take everybody with you. I can get there by myself."

"You can barely stand up."

"I need to go. You need to get to Alexandria. You were out here for me."

"We still are."

At that, Maggie starts sobbing. "I can make it now. I need you to go back. I can't have you out here. I can't have you all out here anymore. I need you to go back."

Michonne and Sasha have gotten up by now, Michonne takin a few steps forward. "Maggie," she says. "We're not letting you go. Okay?"

"You have to," Maggie replies.

"It's not gonna happen," Rick says, shaking his head.

Sasha steps forward, up to Maggie. "I'm taking her," Sasha announces. "I'm gonna get her there. I'm gonna keep her safe. I'm not giving you a choice."

That goes for you, Clary. I'm gonna keep you safe, and you don't have a choice about it.

"I'm taking him with me," Maggie says, turning to Sasha. She groans as she gets to her knees beside Glenn's body, and Sasha turns to Rosita.

Rosita's silent, watching every move Sasha makes as she kneels beside Abraham's body. "I'm gonna take him," Sasha whispers. "That's what I'm gonna do."

Rosita nods, giving Sasha her permission. The two take each other's hands, resting them on Abraham's back. I step around them, making my way towards Maggie as Rick and Carl do the same. The only person that doesn't move is Clary, even as Eugene starts towards Abraham, Rosita, and Sasha. "I need to do this," Maggie sobs. "Please."

I rest a hand on her back, whispering, "We need to help you."

Carl reaches over my arm, resting his hand on her arm. "I got it," Carl says.

"No," Maggie murmurs.

"Please," Rick begs. "Please let us. He's our family, t—He's our family, too."

Carl helps Maggie up, and she turns to him, wrapping her arms around him as she sobs. She stands back as Carl, Rick, Michonne, and I carefully pick up Glenn's body, while Eugene, Rosita, and Sasha do the same with Abraham. Even as we move Glenn and Abraham, Clary remains in her spot. She's just sitting there, silent, baptized in the blood of her brother, a murder victim. Eugene, Sasha, and Rosita take Abraham away first, heading towards the RV. They're followed by Carl, Michonne, Rick, and I with Glenn. Carl, Michonne, and Rick take Glenn once we reach the RV, carrying him in. I pause outside the door, helping Maggie in. I look back at Clary, more worried about her than ever before. She suddenly doubles over, letting out a heartbroken, bloodcurdling scream. From the expressions of everyone else, I can tell they've never heard her make a sound like that, either. It rattles all of us almost as much as when we realized we weren't getting out of this one. Carl looks back towards his girlfriend, then down at the body of his brother in arms. "Aaron," he says.

"I got her," I promise him. They take the bodies into the RV while I return for Clary. I kneel beside her, glancing down at the bandana around her wrist. It was what allowed Carl to realize before any of us that we were being led into a trap, because he knew it was hers. It once belonged to Jesus, and it was now memorabilia of how we tried, and failed, to protect ourselves. "Hey, Clary? You with me?"

I reach forward to take her hand, and she immediately jerks back, hissing, "Don't touch me."

I hold up a hand. "Okay, okay. I won't. C'mon. It's time to go. We have to get Maggie to the Hilltop."

"Just leave me," Clary says, staring at the pools of blood.

"What?"

"Leave me lyin' here. Just go on. I want to die with them."

"Would Daryl want you to give up?"

"He's gone. He might as well be dead."

"Would Glenn want you to give up?"

She turns on me now, throwing a punch that knocks me back. "Don't you ever fuckin' say his name!"

Clary's on her feet now, and I get up, looking down at her. I don't back down, hardly intimidated. "I'm not like the others, Cheyenne," I says softly. "You can't scare me. I told Daryl that if anything happened, I'd take care of you. So get your ass in the RV."

Clary looks down, turning towards the vehicle. She pauses at the steps, looking back at me a few feet behind her. "Aaron?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry." She looks at Maggie first, around at the others in the RV, and then back to Maggie. "I'm so sorry. He wanted to go back and I said no." She just gives up, starting to collapse, but I catch her before she can hit the ground. I pass her off to Rick in the RV, who makes her sit on the couch as I join her. She curls up beside me, whispering, "I tried, tried like hell. And it wasn't enough."