Chapter 12

They had absolutely everything she needed to cook whatever Negan's appetite might fancy. She had prepared his breakfast, just as he liked it, and sent it to him only to get a summons from the man himself.

Chef clothing had been waiting for her in the kitchen, and she had changed into those knowing she needed to appeal to the sociopath who ran the place. Dressed in the little chef's outfit, she had stood in front of him as he congratulated her for an amazing meal, grinning at her as if she should be proud of herself. As though she hadn't spit into his food as much as she'd been able.

She had been sent back to the kitchen with a menu for the day, and free range of any fresh produce there in the Sanctuary. They had given her two helpers, two young boys probably the same age as Carl.

Boys who happened to be the younger siblings of one of Negan's wives. Two boys who just as their sister, just as her and Daryl, were prisoners within those walls.

There was a clear separation of the Saviors and the people who worked for them. The main floor of what had appeared a flea market, making it obvious. People worked, and the Saviors took. Just as they did with the communities, they did with their own people.

By lunch, she had counted around thirty people she knew they'd have to get rid of. People were loose-lipped when they didn't notice you, when you were nothing to them. She was just the help, just Negan's personal cook.

She had gotten glimpses of Daryl throughout the day. He had been made to work on the yard with the walkers when she happened to be out looking for the freshest batch of carrots. She'd seen him again, mopping the main floor as Negan punished people. But he was there.

As long as he was alive, there was a chance for them. As long as they were alive there was hope for them.

"Sweetheart!" Negan exclaimed as he opened his arms and watched her walk behind the two boys who carried his food. "What delicious delicacy did you prepare for me this afternoon? I hope you made enough for the boys too?"

He motioned to the group of men behind him, and Carol glanced at them coyly, almost shyly as she assessed them. One of them she knew from that night at the clearing, the man who had taken Daryl away, Simon. There were other two men, and there was Dwight.

Fucking Dwight.

"I did," she said softly, her smile directed only at Negan. "I made BBQ pork chops, using what was provided for us from the Kingdom."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Negan yelled, laughing as he moved to sit on the table, patting his belly in an almost cartoonish way as he waited for the boys to put the plate in front of him. "This is exactly why I wanted you here, sweetheart," he mumbled with his mouth full. "This is what people like us deserve, don't we boys?"

Carol's heart beat faster as she spied Daryl standing at the back of the room, almost hidden like part of the furniture, between the curtains. Their eyes met, and the world faded away for a thousandth of a second.

It was just the two of them in the room. How are you? I love you. I'm sorry. I love you. All those messages seemed to travel between them in that moment, before Carol's attention returned to the men in front of her.

"The boys will bring the rest in a second. Will I be serving your wives too?" Carol asked innocently, eyeing the women where they lounged on the other side of the room.

"Oh, darling, no." Negan hadn't stopped eating, even as his men looked at his plate with a little envy. "The girls will have a salad. Can't have fat wives you know? What would that say about me?"

Carol nodded, taking her leave as soon as her two helpers came back with the rest of the food. She could hear Negan clearing his throat, the sound of forks over plates fading away as she walked back to the kitchen. She smiled.

-.-.-.

The first recruit was Carl.

She had found him sleeping in Carol's room at her house, where her and Gabriel were going to meet up to start on their plan. The young man was on board. It was no secret how mad he was at his father for his lack of action. Carl was more than willing to sacrifice even his life if it meant his family would be safe.

And two very important members of their family weren't safe.

They would have to start recruiting without Rick's knowledge, at least until Michonne took time and talked to him. They also needed to let the people at the Hilltop know what they were planning to do.

Sasha would never forgive them if they didn't let her in on their plans.

They had two days to finalize their planning, because on the third day? On the third day the time of reckoning would fall upon the Sanctuary.

There was also the small detail of them not actually knowing where the Sanctuary was. Carl in turn recruited Enid, and the two of them had been left in charge of going to get the rest of their family from the Hilltop. The kids' ability to get in and out of Alexandria without being noticed by the people at the front gate, being an asset instead of a cause of headaches for once.

Michonne had the worst task of all. While Gabriel recruited and rallied those who they trusted 4, Michonne would talk to Rick. She would have to talk him down from the ledge upon which he teetered. The ledge where one misstep would mean losing everything he had worked so hard for.

He would lose his family.

Because Michonne was more than sure, if Rick wasn't on board with their plan; if Rick ended up chickening out and not putting all his strength behind them, he would lose everyone he cared for. They would lose Daryl and Carol, he would lose Carl's respect, he would lose the community.

He would lose himself.

With a heavy heart Michonne watched as Enid and Carl climbed the wall, before disappearing behind it.

It was time to work.

-.-.-.

The music didn't return.

The whole day, Daryl had to keep himself from letting his eyes wander whenever a flash of silver appeared on his periphery. The temptation was too much, the knowledge that she was right there, just a few yards away from him threatening to break his resolve.

He couldn't help but be in awe of her, even more than he usually was, as he saw her put on her act in front of Negan and the rest of his higher ups with such an ease. If he didn't know her as well as he did, he would have believed her.

He couldn't blame Negan for falling for her ruse so easily. She was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Dwight had taken him to the cell as soon as they had finished their dinner, his stomach rumbling as the smell from the dinner his mate had prepared still permeated his nose. He had given into the half eaten dog food sandwich he had been delivered earlier that day, the need for substinance too strong.

He had to keep himself calm, with enough strength to fight if needed. That's why he had stopped rejecting the water, as foul smelling as it was, whenever he was offered it. He was almost sure those assholes were pissing on it before they gave it to him; but it didn't matter. If he was dehydrated, he would be no good to his woman when she busted him out.

And she was going to bust him out.

For the first time since he had been brought there, he was ready to be taken out the next morning. He didn't fight it, he went away with it. He felt more alive than the day before, more alert.

He could feel her blue eyes following him whenever they were in the same area, and like a plant which had started to wilt because of lack of sun; the moment he was in her presence, he felt as if he would bloom once more.

They were barely paying attention to him anymore. After his failure to do anything but follow orders on their little trip to Alexandria, they seemed to have thought him broken. He hadn't spoken a word with any of them, answering with grunts and growls, adding to their belief that he was nothing more than a dog they had managed to tame.

But they had no idea. Dixons were untamable.

He had taken a page out of his woman's book. He put on a front, a persona, just for them. It was what they needed him to be, so he camouflaged himself into being just that. He followed Negan's orders to a point, yet he looked lost and empty when he needed to do so. He even kept his temper in check whenever he was present when that asshole, Negan, dared to look at Carol.

He was really tested when Dwight spoke to her. He wanted to rip that spineless little shit a new one, and feed it to him instead of the food his Carol had prepared.

He didn't even reacted when Negan made a spectacle out of him when his stomach growled at the smells of the incredible meal Carol had prepared for them. He was forced to his knees beside Negan's place at the dinner table, his face at the same height as the food. His mouth watering as he watched, while his stomach cramped, as Negan and his people savored the food his woman had made.

There were more people this time around.

Apparently Carol had been informed ahead of time, and the two boys sent to help her seemed to have multiplied overnight. The food kept on coming, his mouth kept on watering, and Negan kept on shoveling food into his mouth like there was no tomorrow.

His eyes met Carol's briefly when she was brought to Negan at the end of the meal, her eyes as beautiful as he had dreamed them the night before. All his aches lay forgotten at the mere sight of her, her hand brushing his side as if by accident as Negan motioned her to come closer to him.

His mind wandered.

He saw himself leaping to the table, grabbing a knife and stabbing Negan in the carotid. He saw himself grabbing Carol by the hand and running away with her. He saw them driving away on his bike, leaving everyone and everything behind.

A sharp slap to his face brought him back to himself. He wasn't driving off into the sunset with Carol. He hadn't killed the jackass sitting at the head of the table. He had not gotten them out of there, back to the relative safety of their community.

He had been effectively daydreaming about them riding off into the sunset.

Daryl could feel the blood running down from his mouth, barely remembering he was playing a role and he couldn't react. The need to swipe his tongue out and lick the blood on the side of his mouth was strong, a reflex from the thousands of times he had done so in his life. But he didn't move, he wouldn't allow them to see he wasn't their neutered dog.

He, just like his mate, was a wolf in sheep's clothing. And his mate was calling to him, and he would always answer her calls.

-.-.-

Her feet were killing her. Carol sighed as she entered her room, making sure the door was locked behind her before she sat on her bed.

She had spent all day walking around the Sanctuary, preparing Negan's meals. She prepared what was essentially a small banquet for him and his henchmen. She at least had gotten out of being around him most of the day, not having to be there for the gruesome punishment he had doled out under the pretense of preparing his dinner. She had gotten to walk around the Sanctuary, making mental blueprints of the place. Carol met people, using her disguise to get to know the entrails of Negan's Sanctuary.

Negan's 'Sanctuary.'

If she was talking to somebody else she would be using air quotes at that. A sanctuary in name only she had quickly realized. Three fourths of the people living inside the walls were prisoners as well. They were being kept as cheap labor, with the 'real' Saviors exercising their power over them at all times.

Some people had children for which they were sacrificing. Some didn't have anyone else and it was either live like that or die out there alone. And yet there were some who enjoyed what they did, who took pleasure in hurting others, in keeping other communities under their metaphorical boot.

Her head throbbed, and she wanted to cry. She was tired, and needed her family. She needed her Daryl.

To see him, and not be able to touch him, was it's own form of torture. To be in the same room, and not being at liberty to even meet his eyes… that felt worse than if she had been punched in the chest.

Her fingers brushed against the small note she had written that morning, the note she had kept all day in the pocket of her chef's jacket. Two words were written on it.

'Tomorrow night'.

With a grunt Carol stood up and left her room. She needed to wash away the smell of that day's meal.

If anyone asked, she had just made a right instead of a left in the wrong place and she was just longing for a shower. And if that had led her to pass in front of Daryl's cell, well that was just a mere coincidence.

-.-.-.

The sun had barely started to touch the horizon when the doors to the Hilltop closed behind them.

"So you're actually doing this," Sasha asked, a small smile on her face as she looked at Jesus beside her. "You're leaving behind your family for a bunch of assholes you've only met a handful of times?"

Jesus chuckled, hurrying to catch up to Glenn, Maggie, Enid and Carl as they walked in front of them. "They ain't family," he answered over his shoulder, grinning as he saw Sasha chuckle when his hair got in his way.

"I don't know, Gregory seemed like one of those dick uncles you just try to avoid during Thanksgiving," Glenn added, grinning as he put an arm around Maggie's shoulders.

They should have probably stayed at the Hilltop, where there was a doctor and walls to protect them from the harshness of the road, but their family was calling, and when one called, the others answered.

Jesus made a face at Glenn's words. "I know the type, the ones who will make all the asshole comments about 'they gays' and yet expect you to just sit there and take it because you're not like 'those gays'"

Sasha snorted. "And then get mad at you when you have to correct them once more because, Uncle Greg, Maria isn't my friend she's my girlfriend. There's a difference."

Jesus grinned, pointing a finger at Sasha. "Jude and I aren't roommate's uncle Greg, we live together, as a couple."

"Jude? Really?" Maggie asked, her smile big as she looked at Jesus.

"What's wrong with Jude?" Jesus asked, frowning.

"Jesus? Jude… Judas?" At their lost look she continued, "Jesus Christ superstar?"

"Your dad let you watch that?" Glenn asked flabbergasted at the thought.

"Oh, Glenn, baby…" Maggie shot Jesus and Sasha a wicked smile. "You're so sweet sometimes."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Jesus smiled softly at his new family as Maggie and Glenn continued to bicker between themselves. It had been as easy as that. His biggest fear, the reason he hadn't made any real connections at the Hilltop, out in the open like it was nothing. And it was in fact nothing.

He had a new family, and as Carl had said the night before, Their family needed them. And if he was being honest he was pretty sure the houses at Alexandria were way better than the trailers at the Hilltop.

Gregory would have to deal without him. And soon enough, without the saviors as well.