A/N: By popular demand, Negan will NOT be brought back in time. He may, however, make an appearance later on in the story. Now onto the farm!

Chapter Ten

"When can we head to the farm?" Michonne asked.

"Tomorrow, sound alright?"

They all nodded and Rick smiled warmly at them.

"Good. Go rest. Daryl, you and I have first watch."

His brother nodded, refolding the map and placing it back in his vest with the others.

The rest of them said good night, each of them happy with the warmth flooding them at the sight of their family safe and nearly whole again. They just had to find a way to get their missing members and their family would be whole.

And this time they planned to keep it that way, whether it was facing the walkers or facing down sociopaths like Negan.

"Judy is mine isn't she."

Rick stiffened at Shane's question, his cerulean eyes flashing before they met the dark gaze of the older man.

"Yes."

He nodded, then looked down. "So, I'm guessing you know about me and Lori?"

His brother stared at him, then his lips twisted into a wry grin. "Yes. Found out two weeks after I woke from my coma the first time. You tried to kill me to keep her and Carl." The smile darkened into something predatory and dangerous.

"I killed you instead."

Shane flinched, staring at him wide-eyed.

When he'd woken that morning the question of Judith Grimes parentage had been at the top of his mind. He'd thought that maybe he'd died saving Lori and Carl or something equally noble, but to learn that he'd tried to kill his best friend, his brother. That he'd tried to take Rick's family, knowing how possessive the other man was over those he considered his.

Future him was fucking insane.

No wonder Rick's group had been side-eyeing him the way they had.

The younger man had always been the possessive sort and had never made any effort to hide it. Most people were fooled by his genial smile and all-around friendly demeanor, but Shane had known him since they were children and if Rick considered you his, then you were. No debate.

Hell, it had been a risk, sleeping with Lori, even more so when he started to do "father-son" activities with Carl.

Knowing now, that his affair with Lori had ultimately led to his death, it hurt.

"I wouldn't-"

"No," a rough voice cut in, and he turned to see the scar faced hick standing behind them in the doorway, cyan eyes harsh as they met his. Thick arms were crossed across his chest, his hair hiding most of his face.

"Ya won't."

Shane scowled. "This is a private conversation."

Those eyes never left his. "Not if we c'n all hear it. I repeat, you. Won't. Do what ya want wit' Queenie in there, but that lil girl is off limits. Judith ain't yours. She's mine."

"Daryl," Rick interrupted and the man rolled his eyes with a sigh.

"And Rick's on 'ccasion."

Expecting his brother's possessiveness to rear its head, Shane glanced at him only for the curly haired man to snort and nod.

"What ya doing out here?"

"Michonne made breakfast. Tol' me to come get y'all and for you to stop tryna assert yer dominance."

Rick blinked. "What?"

Daryl shrugged.

"We needa eat. Trip to the farm and settin' up is gonna take most of the day."

Shane frowned. "What trip?"

The man glanced at him, as if he were something particularly unpleasant, then turned and walked back into the house.

Rick shook his head fondly, and made to follow him, but Shane scowled and grabbed his arm.

"Rick," His brother turned. "What trip?"

"Tell you and the others inside."

He wanted to protest but Rick was already walking back into the house. With little choice, he followed the younger man inside, freezing when he saw nearly everyone was scattered around the living room. The only ones missing were the dread-haired woman, and Lori, who he could hear in the kitchen. His eyes sought out Judith, finding her in Carl's lap, dozing as the teen talked to the hick's boyfriend. The asian kid and his wife sat with them, obviously very wrapped up in the conversation, even though they all glanced over at Daryl every few minutes or so.

Said hunter moved to sit beside his brother and father, who were watching him with concern hidden in their otherwise harsh gazes.

"Everyone, can I have your attention please?"

The group fell silent, giving the slim man their attention and he smiled.

"So last night, me and the others went over the resources we currently have as well as possible settling plans. We've decided that right now our best chances would be to get out of the city, especially since some of us won't be able to hide our more obvious changes." The time travelers snorted as one.

"Maggie's father, Hershel, owns a farm outside of Atlanta, where we can settle until the outbreak begins and the worst of it blows over. Once we're there, we'll talk about possible long term solutions, but keep in mind that we already have a place in mind."

Dixon Sr. rolled his eyes, glaring at Rick. "So what? We're s'pposed to jus' let y'all make all the decisions for us?"

"Ricktatorship." Carl coughed and several of the other snickered, the youngest Dixon included.

Shane nodded. "Hate to agree with him, but he's right, Rick. Y'all can't just decide everything and expect us to just follow along."

Cerulean eyes stared back at him, harder than he'd ever seen them, with a feral edge that made him want to cringe.

"Don't expect you to. But right now? You have no idea what's coming. What's starting as we speak. The terror that will grip you when you wake up every morning wondering what friend, what brother, sister, son you'll lose that day." The older man swallowed, the hairs on the back of his neck rising even as though Rick's voice never rose.

"Until you've seen it. Until you've learned how to fight it and survive it, shut up. And do what you're told." He turned back to the others. "We leave in two hours. Pack everything we might need."

Both of the elder Dixons looked ready to protest, then they took one look at the scars marring the face of their youngest and their gazes hardened, protests dying on their lips.

Shane just stared.

He'd known this Rick wasn't the same, but somehow he'd only just figured out that he was only seeing a glimpse of how much.

Seeing the farm again was bittersweet.

With his good memories of the place long outweighed by the bad, he was finding it hard keep the hairs at the back of his neck from standing up when it came into view.

He'd had so many failures here, too many.

Sophia had died, had been in that damn barn for weeks even as he'd scoured the forest for her and he had never seen any different.

Carl, he'd first taught the kid to shoot here only for the brat to almost die trying to bait walkers and prove to them that he wasn't a kid.

Beth.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in the tiny form of the girl standing beside her father, blue eyes wide as they watched their group approach.

He'd failed to save her.

It had haunted him for weeks, seeing the grief and pain in Maggie's face from losing her last family member, a pain he hadn't wanted to inflict upon anyone after losing Merle.

A pain he'd suffered when he'd watched the little spitfire of a girl take a bullet through the skull.

She was his little sister, someone he'd vowed to protect and reunite with her elder sister, and he'd failed to do so.

He'd never forgive himself...but he would do better this time.

Determination flared in him, and he pursed his lips.

This time, he'd be ready.

World weary.

If there was any other way to describe the people standing before him, Hershel Greene would eat his own hand.

Most of them seemed worn, rough edges peeking out from behind faint smiles, wary gazes scanning their surroundings as if they expected an attack.

Even his eldest was doing it, lending credence to the story she and her husband had told him a few weeks early.

Their stories had been heart wrenching, but detailed enough for him to pick out which of the group before him had traveled back and those like himself who'd woke and found themselves with family members they recognized but didn't.

He felt for them all.

The leader, Rick, he remembered stepped forward shadowed by a man that could only be Daryl, for his scarred face was near hidden by too long hair, gaze piercing him from behind the veil of mahogany bangs.

"Thank you for letting us stay here, Mr. Greene. It means alot to us."

Hershel smiled. "It's no problem, Rick. Now why don't we all come inside and introduce ourselves."

TBC...