Warm and Fuzzy Chapter Two – White Winged Dove

The response to the last post has been overwhelmingly positive, so I'd like to thank everyone that favourited, followed and those that reviewed. I ended up finishing it at about 5:30am, and I got so many reviews just within those couple hours afterwards, even within the first hour while I was still struggling to sleep at 6, so it really means a lot. You all are wonderful, so I'm going to start extending this. I think I'm going to try structuring the chapters with the first half as a flashback, as some of you were curious as to the background of the things they talked about in the last chapter. Second half will be a continuation of the plot, so it's a little bit of teasing if it was a cliffhanger - sorry. I'll try and follow the TV show, but I'll be doing it as each episode comes out, so forgive me if I miss any foreshadowing or anything. I haven't read the comics, but I've researched quite a bit. I'll always let you know if I go back and make edits. I made some tiny changes to the last chapter. You don't really need to read over it, but you can if you want - I just added a line here and there. Let me know what you think of the format, and thanks again for your support. I'll try and do this well.

THEN

Rick woke to the apocalypse gently.

"That vase, that's something special. Fess up. You steal it from your Grandma Jean's house? I hope you left her that spoon collection."

He giggled, but he wheezed and the giggle turned into a cough.

"Shane?" He called hoarsely, raising his head to find him.

"What vase?"

He looked over to a person in the doorway, confused. They were wearing motorcycle gear. He looked over to the vase and saw the flowers inside were now dried and shrivelled and he fingered them, bits breaking off, as he tried to establish what was going on. How much time had passed? He looked to the clock. It had stopped ticking at 2:17.

He blinked, trying to comprehend.

"Are…are you the…the nurse?" He asked haltingly.

Why did he ask that? She was wearing leathers and a helmet. He didn't miss her glance behind herself warily before stepping further into the room and closing the door. She re-checked the door. She then removed the helmet and he saw that she was just a seventeen-maybe eighteen year old girl. She was quite pretty, besides the fact she didn't look like she'd washed in…a while. She had dirt on her face and lines of white where the sweat had dripped down her face through it. Dyed blonde hair that had since faded fell from the helmet and settled just past her chin in unruly greasy waves. Her darker roots were starting to become visible too. Placing the helmet on the dresser, she looked at him. Big blue eyes caught his.

"No, I just walked in here and you woke up." She said simply. She had an accent. British?

He frowned at her. He was feeling very wary of this situation.

"Then why are you- Can you get me a nurse from-" He nodded behind her. "-Out there."

"Theres…there's no nurses." She replied. Australia. Her accent was Australian. Her tone was confused, though. Why confused?

"What?" He eloquently asked again.
"There's no nurses." She repeated. "How long have you been here?

"I-I don't understand. Why are there no nurses?"

"There'll all gone. You know? They've gone home or they went with everyone else. Or they might even be in the cafeteria or outside." She tried to explain, but it still didn't add up. There was something missing.

"Then…can't you get me one from either of those places?"

"I-I can't…get a nurse from there – have you been…have you been in here all this time? Since before?"

"Before what?" Rick groaned, straining to raise himself from the bed.

"Before everything? It's been months."

"Months? I-" Rick pushes himself to his feet and his legs promptly gave out, knocking the IV stand over with him.

"Oh my god, are you alright?!" The girl squeaked, running over to him. He felt so dazed – couldn't she just tell him what was going on and why there were no nurses?

"You shouldn't be making loud noises here!" She hissed as she helped him struggle to his feet.

"What?" He asked for what felt like the hundredth time. She allowed him to grip her arm and he self consciously tried to pull the sides of the gown together a bit, his midsection was wrapped in bandages – old bandages by the look of them and how they hadn't been changed with the amount of fluid from the wound that had seeped through and oxidised.

"Are you telling me the last time you were awake, everything was normal?" She prodded.

"It-It was hardy normal – I got shot!" He exclaimed.

"But-but the walkers. They weren't around yet?"

"What day is it?" He asked.

"I don't know." She shrugged.

"Day of the week?"

"Wouldn't have a clue. I haven't been paying attention." She said simply. How could she not know what day of the week it was?

"Month?

Her mouth screwed up as she deliberated.

"I think its July." She answered hesitantly.

2 months.

"You think? He said slowly. Was she a junkie or some kid on the street or something?

"I told you, I haven't been keeping track. And its not like you can just check your phone and see. It's hot though." She said. "Should be fuckin' winter." He heard her mumble to herself. Why was she wearing motorcycle gear during summer? Inside? 2 months he'd been out. He needed to find Lori and Carl.

"I-I need to tell my family I'm awake." He stuttered.

"Your family? Mate, they could be anywhere." She shook her head.

"I need to go home." He said, staggering towards the door.

"Hey, hey, hey, stop!" She said, blocking his path. When he stopped she reached to the side, pulling open several of the drawers in the dresser the room had.

Throwing something at his feet, he looked down and saw some hospital issue slippers.

"Are you a mental patient or what?" She asked incredulously.

"I told you, I got shot. I'm a police officer." He repeated, annoyed, but he put on the slippers.

"Did you shoot yourself? Because you're going to die in two seconds if you leave here and don't know what's going on." She said cryptically.

"Can you just tell me what is going on?" He asked sternly and she frowned at the tone he was using.

"The walkers." She said matter-of-factly.

"What walkers?" He pressed.

"Couple months back…uh, people started getting sick. They got sick really fast. And then they'd change and…attack other people and make them sick. I was here with a student exchange program and I was with my host family and those sick people, they were everywhere like a fuckin' swarm and the people I was with, they just left and I was by myself and everything went to shit. The government was bombing the city; people were getting eaten by the sick people in the street; they were shooting randomly in the street, and this was everywhere. Across the world. You could see it on TV until the power went down."

Rick was listening in rapt horror. This had to be a story – a game that she was playing with him.

"I just stayed inside, barricaded the doors and chilled upstairs with some food until it started to quiet down. You could hear it all happening outside. Screaming. And I could hear the sick people – the walkers – come near the house because they make weird noises. After a while I ran out of food, so I came more into town. Almost got bitten for my efforts, but I ran and the one after me left because someone else was screaming in the distance. I went to a shop, and obviously people had raided it like hell, but I holed up in the back room and just took what I liked. Didn't want to hole up the whole shop because people kept barging on in and some people have gone a bit funny – the ones that aren't sick. End of the world and all that. All bets are off. And I came here because I was running out of something. Wouldn't try it earlier, but it's pretty quiet here now."

Rick was staring at her gobsmacked.

"The end of the world?" He repeated.

"Pretty much." She nodded. "Honestly, it's like a movie."

"The end of the world." He whispered. His family. If she wasn't lying, his family had been out in that. What if they'd gotten sick too?

He pushed her to the side and stumbled out the door.

"Hey!" She hissed, obviously not wanting to be loud, grabbing her helmet on the way and sliding it back on her head.

What greeted him in the hallway shook him.

Paper was littered everywhere, a bed was haphazardly thrown next to his door with a baseball bat on top of it, and half the lights were off and the ones that were on blinked randomly as if the generator was failing. He started walking haltingly down towards the nurses' desk. He could see a phone.

"Hey!" She was still calling to him as she tried to catch up. "Hey, be careful!"

Reaching the phone, he put it to his ear and…no dial tone. There was a matchbox on the desk and he lit one, trying to get any clue as to why no one was there. Nothing. He stuffed the matchbox in a pocket in his boxers. She caught up to him as he turned a corner, walking up beside him and huffing a little.

"Dude, do you know how hot this thing is?" She complained.

"Then…why do you wear it?" He asked distractedly as he peered through the door's window.

"That's why." She said, following his line of vision to where a fluorescent light was sporadically blinking. Blinking and revealing a body lying in the hallway with each blink. A body who was essentially missing half its body. The face was there, but the rest of it…all the skin was just…gone and it looked like it had been picked clean.

"They can't bite through the leather. I'm sorry, sweetheart." The girl said, looking at his distraught face. "But I tried to tell you."

"What-what's going on?" He asked shakily. He must have asked that a thousand times now.

"End of the world." She repeated soberly, her voice muffled by the helmet. He turned and noticed she had collected the baseball bat and had it secured to her belt with a bungee cord around the handle. He shuffled down the hallway in the opposite direction, grateful that she'd made him wear slippers. He needed to get out. He needed to go home. She just followed quietly behind him. His mouth opened as he took in the line of bullet holes in the wall he passed, and there was blood here. A lot. And it was old – turned a dark brown. It was sprayed across the walls and pooling on the floor. Wiring was hanging from the ceiling like cobwebs in a haunted house.

A door appeared in front of him. It was bolted shut and had a plank of wood through the handles: the cafeteria.

Don't open. Dead inside.

She'd told him there might be nurses here but she couldn't get him one. Dead.

Approaching the door he heard clattering behind it and quiet moaning.

"Come on." The girl said. He kept staring and the moaning was getting louder. Whoever was on the other side of the door pushed on it and it opened a little. It almost sounded like growling.

She'd said the sick people make weird noises.

He was shaking, he couldn't stop himself. And then the door banged violently and he stumbled back a step into her. She gently touched his upper arms.

"Come on." She said again, gently turning him slightly, but still giving him her support. He kept staring at the door. Fingers started to push through and he felt her shudder behind him. He felt panic coming over him and he stumbled away from her to a fire escape.

It was dark inside and he still had his matches, so he lit one. It smelt bad in here. Like someone had died. He didn't want to think about that.

The door behind him opened and the girl walked in as well.

"You can get out through there." She said. "That's how I got in. Prepare yourself, though. It's worse out there, so don't freak out." She warned, voice still muffled. "I can't deal with anymore freaking out – I do enough for myself."

The way she talked so casually about all this, it was still insane, but it made it all feel a little more normal – or not normal, so much as easier to deal with. She was understanding but still pushing him through, not letting him drown in whatever had happened.

Opening the fire escape, he was blinded by the natural light and blasted by the heat. The girl grunted behind him, obviously finding the warmth uncomfortable in her gear.

He moved outside onto a little balcony, shielding his eyes as he made his way down the stairs. She kept following, assessing his reaction and as his eyes got used to the light, he looked up.

Death. So much death.

Bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies, row after row. Most were covered in a sheet, some had their heads poking out and he could see their faces, their feet, lying out in the sun for two months. And no one had taken them away. And these were all people. These were people from his town. These could be his family for all he knew.

Flies buzzed everywhere and he teetered on his feet, his mouth gaping. She came up behind him and put a hand on his upper arm, and the other in his own hand.

"I know." She said quietly. "I know. Come on." And she led him through the maze. He was stumbling and she gripped him harder and he was grateful for it, again, leaning into her. He didn't know if he could stand up now by himself.

They passed through the gates, a lot of debris littering the road, and they made their way up the hill.

"Take it slow." She whispered. "Just take it nice and easy and I'll help you."

Making it to the top of the hill, he saw a military helicopter and the area in front of him…It was a warzone.

"What…what happened here?" He asked.
"They tried to control it." She answered simply.

"Tried." He repeated.

"They failed." She confirmed. "Tell me where to go."
"I want to go home." He said. His voice was shaking like a leaf.

"Then home, we'll go." She said kindly, squeezing his hand. "I'll get you there."

"Why are you helping me?" He asked after a few seconds.

She thought about that.

"I was all alone when this started." She explained slowly. "I don't want you to feel like that. Especially since you've woken up right in the thick of it. At least what I had was gradual. If this is a nightmare for me, I can't imagine what this is for you."

"You said you went to the hospital for something-" He started, but she stopped him.

"Don't worry about it. I found you instead. Gotta' look after each other." She said genuinely.

"So, you'll…you'll stay with me?" He asked and she looked at him through the helmet.

"If you'll have me." She said finally.

"That…I think that would be for the best." He said, nodding to himself. He already felt like he was going round the bend. He couldn't imagine doing it by himself. Not like this teenager. In a foreign country. For months. How had she done it?

"Alright then," She said, grinning under her helmet. "Apocalypse buddy. I'm Tamara, by the way."

"Rick." He replied, feeling her rub his arm with her leather glove comfortingly. "Rick Grimes."

"Let's get you home, Rick."

NOW

"Fuck this." She heard him mutter and then there was a slight whoosh as he swung the wire covered bat. She flinched in preparation, waiting for her lights to turn off but nothing happened. The hand she was gripping jerked violently. The people from her group gasped chokingly.

Abe? ABE!

Her eyes sprung open and she wished they hadn't because she could see now, Negan had purposefully missed her. Abe's body bowed down to the ground with the impact. He slowly leaned back and blood just began…pouring from his head. Tamara gaped at him. It was supposed to be her. Goddamn, it was supposed to be her! She'd accepted that! She would do it for the others.

Abe.

Negan was saying something but Abe was looking at her. His hand was still in hers and she was still lying on the ground.

"Good." He said meaningfully to her, squeezing her hand before letting it go. "Good."

"What was that, Red?" Negan asked cockily.

"Suck…my…nuts." Abe said, glaring back to him, and there wasn't even a second before the bat collided with him again. And again. And again. She kept staring. Staring as Abe just…disappeared. She flinched as blood sprayed her face.

"You hear that?" Negan asked the gathering when he finally, finally, pulled Lucille away. "He said suck my nuts!"

He laughed, a slow, drawn out chortle and then he began swinging the bat again. Every hit – she flinched. Every hit – she watched.

It was supposed to be me.

It continued for a while. It felt like a long while. The bat got flicked and she heard Abe's blood hit somewhere else. The wet little slaps as the drops were splashed. That laugh again.

"You guys! Look at my dirty girl!" Negan announced. She could hear him breathing, huffing with the exertion it had taken to just kill her friend. One of her family.

She heard his boots crunch on the gravel near her head.

"Hell, baby doll, you look a bit shocked. You don't think I'm that much of a fucking monster, do you?" His tone was still cocky, but it was quieter when he talked to her. Addressing the group, he talked louder again. "I ain't gonna' kill some crying chick. Can we get her back in line, for fuck's sake? I feel like I'm gonna' step on her by accident."

She was limp as she felt someone come up behind her and drag her by the armpits into the line. She slumped as they let go of her and she leaned towards Maggie, seeking out the comfort.

Negan was talking again, at the other side of the line, but she wasn't paying attention. She just stared at Abe's head. What was his head.

I was ready.

"…and forever will be Red. He just took one or six or seven for the team! So take a damn look. Take a damn look!"

Negan was shouting at Rosita and then everything managed to go even more wrong.

Her eyes swung as she heard the impact of fist against skin and she managed to catch Negan's head being thrown violently back as Daryl tried to grab onto his jacket before he was restrained by more Saviours. She watched Negan silently as he wiped his mouth and shook his head, smirking as Daryl was beaten.

"Daryl!" She heard Rick call and Negan immediately swung Lucille so it was pointing straight at his face.

"No!" He shouted. Calming down, he started chuckling again, but it was bitter. "Oh no. That? Oh my, that…is a no-no. The whole thing. Not one bit of that shit flies here."

He knelt down at Daryl's head.

"You wan' me to do it? Right here?" She felt anger rising back into her as she heard Dwight. Dwight, that fuckin' shit. With Daryl's crossbow? She'd kill him herself.

"Nah-" Negan said, pulling Daryl by the hair. "Nah, you don't kill that. Not until you try a little."

Try?

Dwight lowered the crossbow and helped two other men drag Daryl back.

"Anyway! That's not how it works." Negan started again, circling the bat at the group. "Now, I already told you people. First one's free! Then what'd I say – I said I'd shut that shit down! No exceptions. Now I don't know what kind of lying assholes you been dealin' with, but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important. I need you…to know me. So! Back to it."

And then Glenn was on the ground. She physically felt like she'd just been booted in the chest. Maggie gagged on a cry and Tamara's heart wrenched but she couldn't even move. Couldn't say a word. She was frozen in the complete shock of it.

Maggie let out a wretched scream and that's when they heard the gurgling.

Tamara felt a burst of cold go through her veins. She couldn't look away. And she could only guess at what they were about to see.

Glenn rose back up and…he was…his eye…he was making noises like he was spluttering on his own blood. That would stay with her. That…that was going to stay with her forever.

Her mind flashed to Glenn's voice on the radio in Atlanta. Scaring them as he jumped out of the alley and saved her and Rick's life. Every memory of him.

They were replaced with this.

"Buddy, are you still there?" Negan asked, bending to look at him with genuine surprise. "I just don't know. It seems as if 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!"

Stop it.

"Maggie I'll find you."

Tamara felt like someone had stuffed a dry sock in her throat and she was choking on it.

Kill him. For God's sake, kill him and put him out of his misery. End this.

Negan inspected the group slowly. Everyone was struggling.

Kill him!

"Oh…Oh hell, I can see this is hard on you guys. I am sorry. I truly am. But I did say – no exceptions!"

And he hit him and he hit him and he hit him and he hit him.

"You bunch of pussies! I'm just getting started."

Glenn's body was still moving. He had no head and his body was still moving.

"Lucille is thirsty. She is a vampire bat!" Negan was stamping around, swinging it. He looked down at Rick who stared stoically ahead. "Why? Was the joke that bad?"

Tamara was zoning out, or zoning in. She wasn't sure. She didn't realise that she had a hand on Abe's ankle and was rubbing it. Should she stop? She didn't want to stop. He needed to know she was there with him.

In the back of her mind she could hear Maggie groaning. Tamara stared at Glenn while she held onto Abe. Trying to do something with her eyes - anything. They needed to be looked after now. They needed respect. Their…their bodies needed respect.

She didn't realise that Rick was being dragged to the van until he was right in front of her.

"Rick." She gasped. She felt a boot kick her in the shoe.

"Shut up." The person spat.

What…what do we do? What do we do without Rick, now? Rick solved everything.

She looked up and down the line, looking at the other people, trying to get an idea of what was happening.

Are they coming back?

By the time the van drove back into the clearing, stones spitting out from under the wheels as it crunched back into its original spot, the people in her group were sagging. Dawn had come and gone and it was well and truly light out. It felt wrong. It was a new day and they were still here. It felt like hours. They were tired, their legs hurt, their hearts hurt.

Tamara was leaning in towards Abe's foot as she compulsively rubbed his leg.

Was Rick even still alive?

She flinched as the door to the van opened suddenly and Rick stumbled and fell out onto the ground. Negan confidently stepped out after him and simply dragged Rick back to the group as he scrabbled along the ground like a dog.

"Here we are." It was weird hearing Negan's voice again after so much silence while they waited. It was a distinctive voice. Low and husky and charming. And dangerous.

"Let me ask you Rick - do you even know what that little trip was even about?"

There was silence.

"Speak when you're spoken to." The command was there.

"Okay." Rick gasped out. "Okay."

"That trip was about the way 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. And that's not gonna' work. So. Do I give you another chance?"

Rick was on his hands and knees.

"Yeah." He said, bobbing his head. "Yes. Yes."

"Okay. Alright! The grand prize game. What you do next will decide if this becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads. Good. Now, level with their noses so when they fire-" He made an explosive noise. "-It will be a real fuckin' mess."

"Kid." Negan said suddenly, looking at Carl. Dread settled in Tamara's heart. "Right here. Kid. Now."

No, baby.

Carl got up and walked over to Negan. He was stoic and looked straight into the man's eyes.

"You a south paw?" Negan asked.

"Am I a what?" Carl bit back defiantly.

"You a leftie?" Negan revised. Carl shook his head, still glaring at him.

Negan's eyebrows raised, staring back. "Good." He finally said.

Tamara noticed him undo his belt and pull it out and she frowned.

He whipped the belt around Carl's arm, tightening it; and the relief she felt that something else wasn't going to happen started to dissipate as she thought about why he'd need a tourniquet.

"That hurt?" Negan asked.

"No."

" It should.. Supposed to." Negan replied, eyeing Carl off. "A'right. Get down on the ground kid, next to daddy. Spread them wings. Simon? Gotta pen?"

The guy she thought looked like the main character from Grand Theft Auto answered.

"Yeah." His voice was smug.

Negan caught the pen he was thrown and removed the lid with his teeth. Everything he did was a power game. Over and over he was showing his dominance over Rick, biting his heels when he didn't comply.

"Ah, sorry kid." Negan apologised, kneeling down beside him. "This is gonna' be as cold as a warlocks ball sack. Just like he's hanging his ball sack above ya' and draggin' it right across your forearm. There you go. Gives you a bit of leverage."

He'd marked off just before Carl's elbow. Tamara raised the hand she didn't have on Abe's leg to cover her mouth and she bit on her fingers.

"Please." Rick tried. "Please don't. Please don't."

"Me?" Negan asked haughtily. "I ain't doin' shit. Ah, Rick, why don't you take your axe – cut your sons left arm off. Right on that line. And I know, I know, you gotta' process that for a second. It makes sense. Still, though. Gonna' need you to do it. Or all these people are gonna' die. Then Carl dies. Then the people back home die. And then you. Eventually. Gonna' keep you breathing for a few years so you can stew on it."

Michonne spoke suddenly.

"You don't have to do this. We understand. We understand."

Negan looked over to her.

"You understand. Yeah, I'm not sure that Rick does. I'm gonna' need a clean cut. Now I know this is gonna be a screwed up thing to ask, but its gonna' have to be like a salami slice. Nothing messy, clean, 45 degrees. Give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. Kid'll be fine…Probably."

Rick was hesitating. Of course he was. He was waiting for the punch line.

"Rick. This needs to happen now. Chop chop. Or, I'll crush the lil' fellas skull myself."

"It could – it could be me. It could be me... You could do it to me. I could go with you." Rick pleaded.

"No, this is the only way. Rick, pick up the axe. Not making a decision is a big decision. You really wanna' see all these people die? You will see every ugly thing."

"Hell, are you gonna' make me count? A'right. Three!"

Tamara jolted.

"Please! Please, it could be me. Please!" Rick was screaming.

"Two!"

"Please don't!"

Negan knelt down and got right in his face

"This is it."

Rick was just wailing now.

"One!"

Rick picked up the axe. Tamara bit her fingers tighter, she was struggling to breathe. Carl was saying something to Rick.

Rick raised his arm and-

Negan touched Rick's arm and squatted down again.

"You answer to me." Tamara felt faint with the relief. "You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?

Rick was hyperventilating.

"SPEAK WHEN YOU'RE SPOKEN TO!"

Tamara practically fell over, let alone Rick.

"You answer to me. You provide for me."

"Provide for you." Rick repeated robotically.

"You belong to me. Right?"

"Right." Rick affirmed. And it was done.

"Right! That…Is the look I wanted to see."

Negan picked up the axe.

"We did it." He said to the group, standing up. "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. Now, I hope for your sake, that you get it now. That you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you? That is over now."

He scanned the group.

"Dwight!" He barked. "Load him up!

Daryl was being dragged away.

Not another one. No more.

Maggie groaned after him brokenly. Negan was speaking to Rick again.

"He's got guts. Not a little bitch like someone I know. I like 'im. He's mine now." He addressed the group again. "Now you still wanna try something? Not today, not tomorrow? Not today, not tomorrow…I will cut pieces of…hell's his name?"

"Daryl." Grand Theft Auto – Simon – answered.

"Wow! That actually sounds right!" Negan exclaimed happily.

"I will cut pieces off of Daryl and leave them on your doorstep. Or better yet, I will bring him to you, and have you do it for me." He said to Rick.

He chuckled. "Ah, welcome to a brand new beginning, you sorry shits! Gonna' leave you a truck. Keep it, use it to cart all the crap you gonna' find me. We'll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then, ta-ta."

One week.

The group began to feel a little safer, and then Negan spun around.

"Oh, and I almost forgot!" He called. "Simon! Load her up too." And he pointed Lucille at Tamara.

Maggie instantly grabbed onto Tamara and shook her head, whimpering.

"Now-now, you guys practically gave me her resume!" He tutted playfully before his voice dropped. "Take her."

No. No!

Tamara felt herself being ripped from Maggie and dragged after Negan.

"Ra." Rick choked after her.

She couldn't move and the person dragging her – Simon – was getting frustrated.

"Walk." He ordered, but she was frozen. Simon shook her aggressively and Negan turned around, frowning at him.

"Come on, man." He chastised and Simon grumbled before throwing her over his shoulder. The saviours dispersed to their various cars and Tamara watched her family from over Simon's shoulder, getting smaller.

She was shivering violently. Everyone looked so lost. Everyone except Carl, who watched her go before giving her a nod.

Sorry for the wait, guys. I've already started the next one, so hopefully I'll have it up soon. I'm pumped for that 85 minute episode, but scared at the same time. More Negan, though, even if he is a being an asshat. Next up is Tamara's introduction to the Sanctuary, so I hope you're looking forward to that.

Chuck me a review if you liked this chapter. The part two of last chapter followed the script of the TV show a lot more, but I'll only be doing that when the story and TV show converge. What did you think of Rick and Tamara's meeting?

Thanks, as always. xx