Disclaimer: AMC owns the story and characters of The Walking Dead, I own this plot and the OCs in it.

Author's note: The MSF fucked me up guys. I try to stay away from anything spoilers, and I knew that Carl was on the list, but him not making the cut? Fucked me up all right. Any mention of strawberries is merely coincidental, as this chapter had been done for a while, but I'm proud of the strawberries. Now, let's have something lighthearted for a change.

After

Lexington, VA

In the blink of an eye, winter had become summer.

Tory was harvesting some of the vegetables from their backyard garden preparing to preserve the ripest tomatoes and cucumbers.

The weather was still unpredictable, unsurprising with the amount of crap that had filled the sky for months after the brief weeks that the world had gone to hell; this mean that some of their vegetables died before they bloomed and others survived long enough to sustain them.

Winter had been long and cold, which meant that, if Tory never saw a pumpkin again, she would die a happy woman.

Tom had finally recovered enough for him to go with Henry to gather supplies and install solar panels over the house. Having electricity was so amazing, Tory wished she had appreciated it more when she was young. She had taken so many things for granted. All of them had.

With her dad's recovery, the traps for little animals were back, and so was their source of meat.

Henry was in charge of checking the traps every day and bringing back whatever he had found. They got some little birds and bunnies, the eventual hare and once a cat that Henry decided to set free.

"You don't see much like those now, kitten." He had explained. "Better it be free."

Tom agreed with Henry.

Living in the three bedroom house in Lexington was maybe one of the happiest periods of Tory's life. Of course, they still had to deal with the roamers, but this little place was ideal in location and supplying, so they were sort of set for as long as they kept a safe routine to known and mapped places.

Henry seemed much more stable now, he still thought of Peyton more than once, and Tory had heard him utter prayers on his name, but wasn't driven to depression in the same way he had when they were still back in Savannah. Of course, things couldn't be perfect forever and among the many worries the little family carried, Henry noticed that their traps seemed to be sabotaged more often, and vegetables had started to disappear from their garden. Tory had been way too upset after the only successful batch of strawberries she and Tom had gotten to actually ripen were stolen overnight.

"I really wanted to taste those, Dad." Tory complained, looking up to the sky, to see if there were any rain clouds above.

"We can grow more, Tory, and you know it." Tom tried to console her.

"Yes, we sure can, but if they are going to be stolen, why take the chance?"

Well, there it was, the elephant in the patio. Tom looked uneasy as Tory picked another tomato.

"Tory…"

"Dad, animals don't steal only the strawberries, and certainly not every one of them."

"It could happen." He excused weakly.

"Dad…Only the strawberries, not the zucchini, not the cucumbers? Come on!"

"Well, say there were people and they're stealing our food. We have enough to share."

Tory rolled her eyes with disdain.

"Then they should come straight out! If we can share, we are not going to kill any of them." Tory put the last of her harvest in a basket and shook off the soft dirt from her hands ready to go clean the produce.

Any other argument was forgotten when Tory swayed dangerously on her feet just as she was trying to stand straight. She heard her dad call her name as her knees failed her.

Tom took his daughter in his arms carefully and moved her under the shade of the back porch, Tory was still conscious but she seemed to be disoriented and sweat was rolling off her forehead like water from a tap.

"How many fingers can you see, Victoria?" he asked, holding three fingers up.

"Fi-five?" she answered, narrowing her grey eyes to focus on his hand.

Tom felt her forehead with his, trying to gauge any temperature differences but she wasn't particularly hot.

"Sit and don't move." He ordered her, and she meekly nodded as Tom went into the house. He served Tory a big glass of cucumber water and dumped an extra spoonful of sugar in the glass, adding ice and mixing it vigorously.

"You okay?" he asked her, a few minutes after she had drunk the water.

"Yeah." Tory mumbled.

"Did you have breakfast?" Tom asked. Tory nodded.

"Also threw it up, I think the rabbit was off." She added. "Tasted weird this morning."

Tom thought it up for a few seconds, it was completely possible that the meat had gone bad. After all, the hot weather wasn't helpful when trying to keep something fresh.

"Well, no more harvesting today, young lady." Tom scolded lightly. "let's get you to bed, we can't have you coming down with something."

"Okay, Dad."

The Sanctuary

Third time's the charm, Tory, there you go.

Negan ignored the words as he watched the new arrivals. Three guys and a woman. They all looked like they might need to put on some weight and The Sanctuary was the perfect place to do just that.

"So, what d'you skinny fucks have to offer to our humble abode?" Negan asked theatrically, swinging Lucille lightly as Simon and Dwight kept watching over them all. "Who is the leader of you three?"

The woman looked up from her kneeling position, glaring at him in defiance. She was filthy, but was beautiful and had soulful brown eyes on her, she was a bit on the thin side, but Negan smiled. He loved brown eyes.

"Oh, don't look at me that way, angel-face." Negan ordered, fighting a smile from breaking on his face. "So, I guess it's you."

"No, she is just a burden we picked up on the ride." Nameless-fuck-number-one stated.

Negan's smile died and he ignored the man, directing his dark hazel eyes to the woman and helping her up, grabbing her arm gently.

"These fucks treat you right, angel-face?" he asked, his tone dead-serious as he concentrated in her answer.

The woman deflated and shook her head slightly.

Negan let go of her arm gently and nodded. "Any of them with you?" he asked, his fingers already clenching around Lucille's smooth surface. The woman shook her head and he saw the way in which she flinched when he tried to reach and touch one of her bruises. "Would you care if I…"

The implication was heavy as Negan trailed off.

The woman shook her head with even more vigor and Negan smiled wide. "Simon, take...what's your name angel-face?"

"Martha." the woman answered, her voice a bit raspy from...whatever, but she had a sweet tone to her. Negan liked her already.

"So, Simon! Take Martha here, to the commissary, see if they have anything that fits, then take her to the showers."

"Sure, boss." Simon nodded and took Martha away gently, already telling her about the good stuff the Sanctuary had.

The smile disappeared from Negan's face again as he watched his soon-to-be-victims, and a dangerous grimace was set on his lips.

"Now, you miserable-dickless-fucks, you are going to tell me what you did to sweet Martha, and depending on your answer, you might feed Lucille, or the fence."

The men before him cowered in fear and Negan smirked with derision.

"And we're just getting started."