Backyard Bash

"What the absolute fuck was that about? Are you fucking shitting me, Tessa? I about sent my entire fucking army after you - I swear to God you'd better not pull some shit like that again!"

"I had seven hours to spare," Turtle smiled, pushing past Dwight, ignoring Negan's agitated yells. She removed her bloodstained jacket, pushing open the door to the parlor. Negan followed behind her, stopping as she sat on the couch.

"You came in with blood all over you," Negan huffed. "Mind telling me what the fuck is going on? Why you ran out like that?"

"It's not like I wasn't going to tell you. I wanted to get it done with," Turtle sighed, folding her jacket and setting it on the table. "Plus, I had to go alone."
"Still, you could'a fucking told me," Negan grumbled.

"Would you have let me go alone, though?"

"No."

"Exactly. I get the danger, and I'm sorry for pissing you off. It all came up so fast and I reacted," Turtle began removing her boots and her gun and her knife, lying them on the wooden coffee table. "Not my best idea."

"So, what happened? Dwight said you'd gone off to solve a mystery or some shit like that," Negan took a seat next to her, crossing his fingers together. "You think someone else set those explosives? Someone other than Rick?"

"Had to be. Someone is up to no good, Negan."

"When are they ever?"

"I saw Ben's dad. Ben. You know the boy you killed when we first got to Hilltop? I had a feeling it was him," Turtle squeezed her eyes shut. For some reason, she couldn't get the feel of blood off her face. The flecks were gone, but a tingling aftertaste was still there. "I got there, questioned him. He pulled a knife on me, so I shot him."

Negan hisssed, sucking in his lower lip to keep from cursing. The muscles on around his jaw twitched as he said slowly, "Did he hurt you?"

"No. Didn't get the chance. I'd already let go of Daryl - sent him away. I had to use him, Negan. I need Rick to trust me."

"I'd planned on killing him."

"I'm sorry for messing up your plans, but for all intents and purposes, I saved his life. Rick will remember that, and so will I."

Negan turned to her. Turtle reached out to touch his arm and pull him closer. She stared into his hazel eyes, mouth tugging downward into a frown.

"I'm trying to do what's best. For us. I don't want a fight, and I don't want any more death. I can't shake it off like you can."

"It's not easy for me, either," Negan scoffed. After a brief moment of silence he tilted his head. "Shit…is this what's been fucking bothering you? Ever since Miranda-"

"I think…I've gotten used to it. I've accepted it. I kill when I have to. I can't let it drag me down," Turtle ran fingers through her growing hair. It was past her ears, now. She'd have to shape it up sometime. "Miranda, those Wolves, Hound, now Howard. And the skin-people. I can't let it bother me."

"It's clearly bothering you."

"I'm not doing a good job," Turtle said sadly. "I barely know…me anymore."

Negan touched her face, his thumb ghosting across her lower lip. The movement was the most gentle thing Turtle had ever seen him do - she was, most likely, one of the only people on earth who'd get to see him like this.

"Listen, we all fucking change, okay? You think I know myself, either? Every day, every fucking day I ask myself what I did to deserve you and how the fuck have I lasted this long without fucking up. I used to do that a lot in the past."
"Ha," Turtle shook her head, leaning forward and pressing her lips gently against his. "You and me both. I don't want to bury the past, though. I want to remember it, but I don't want to live in it. Doing that kinda shit gets you killed."

"Yeah. Yeah, I suppose it does," Negan murmured, gripping her face in one strong hand, kissing her, harder than before. Turtle found herself moving, her fingers curling around the back of his neck. When she pulled away she found herself laughing.

"We haven't played cards in a while," Turtle whispered in his ear. "Let's change it up a bit. You saw me naked the other night - c'mon."

"I could see you naked every goddamn day for the rest of my fucking life and I'd be fine," Negan pressed light kisses against her neck and shoulder, practically yanking her into his lap.

"I said, let's change it up," Turtle purred. "Either we play cards or you strip for me."

"Really?" Negan raised his eyebrows.

"Really. Strip or cards. Your choice."


"I'm going alone. We've had three slow days, and I've thought it over," Turtle sat on the edge of the bed, toying with the hem of her shirt. Negan stared down at her, arms crossed over his bare chest. He raised an eyebrow, clicking his tongue.

"The fuck you aren't. I'm going with you. I'll leave Dwight in charge," Negan reached for his clothes, but Turtle stopped him. He tugged his hand away, scowling. "Not this time. And you'd better not sneak out."

Turtle rolled her eyes, sighing and handing him his shirt. He tugged it over his head while Turtle watched, smoothing it out and looking Turtle up and down once more.

"You, me, and Davis. How about that," Turtle tilted her head. "I have to get to the bottom of this. Howard was innocent - and even if he wasn't, the threat is still out there. Howard was just a part of something bigger-" Turtle trailed of, feeling a sharp pang in her lower gut. Her wound was fully healed, so she brushed it off - stuff like that had become normal to her. She took a breath and continued, "Jesus is in on it all."
"Jesus? Bearded guy?"
"With the cap," Turtle nodded. "Yeah. He's keeping an eye out at Hilltop for me. I'm not worried about the Kingdom. They can't hold a grudge."

"Uh-huh."

"You aren't into this Sherlock Holmes shit, are you?"

"Hey, I can't really fucking stop you. You do whatever the fuck you want, when you want," Negan shrugged.

"Damn straight."

Turtle gathered her gear and, later in the day, found herself climbing into the truck alongside Negan and Davis. She curled up against Negan's side while Davis gripped the wheel and steered the vehicle towards Alexandria. The drive was silent, with Turtle, head leaning against Negan's shoulder, staring out the window. Through the trees she could see the undead, hobbling around with their slouched posture and bent heads.

Alexandria's guards spotted them first, pointing and raising their hands. Davis slowed the vehicle and Turtle hopped out before it even stopped moving, walking briskly towards the gates as one of Rick's people - Sasha - tugged them open. She shot Turtle a glare before her eyes fell across Negan, and an even more intense look of ire overcame her sharp features. Nonetheless, she did not speak, and allowed Turtle, Negan and Davis to enter Alexandria.

"Where's Rick? We don't want any trouble - not after what happened last time."

"You here to bomb us again?" Sasha snapped.

"No. I'm here to talk. Where's Rick-"

"Right here."

Turtle spun and found herself staring into the deep blue eyes of Rick Grimes. He nodded in Negan's direction, upper lip twitching as he tried to keep tabs on all of them. Turtle noticed the machete strapped to his hip and the handgun holstered at his side.

"We need to talk," Turtle said.


As night fell, Rick's home became a flurry of activity. Turtle felt as if she were sitting before a council, the eyes of Rick, Michonne, Daryl and Glenn stared at her, all of them seemingly condemning. Turtle did her best to sit up straight and meet each gaze with confidence. Glenn stare was the least patronizing, as was Daryl's. Michonne held most of the animosity.

Sighing, Turtle met her eye. "I'm sorry. I fought back, during the battle. I didn't know what else to do."

Michonne's gaze softened, though it was still suspicious. It was enough.

"What do you want?" Rick said, addressing Negan, who sat reclined next to Turtle. Davis stood behind the couch, head ducked.

"We didn't set those bombs, and neither did you. I went to Hilltop, three nights ago," Turtle said, feeling Negan shift beside her. "I talked with Jesus. He and I made some leads. It was a third party, Rick. Someone with it out for us both."
"And you expect me to believe that? After all you've done?"

"What about what you've done, Rick? I know what you people did and what you can do," Turtle leaned forward. "I was there. The first time I ever saw you, you'd just murdered twenty-four of our men in their sleep. Your friend Carol didn't seem to have a problem murdering one of my friends. Paula."

Daryl stiffened, but said nothing.

"We're not here to talk about Paula, though," Turtle continued. "Or Abraham or Denise. We're here to talk about the future and all the other people that might die if we don't do something."

"Since when did you become the negotiator?" Rick glanced at Negan. "You said it yourself, Negan. No compromises."

"That was before all of this, before the skin-people,-" Turtle began.

"You're not in charge," Rick said coldly. He pointed at Negan. "He is."

Turtle fell silent, pressing her lips together. She felt Negan's arm brush against hers as he finally sat up, resting his elbows against his knee.

"First, Prick, you'd be smart to treat my lady with some fucking respect. Second, she's not fucking around, here. She's being serious, and she's way more into this than I am."

Turtle closed her and, absently leaning against Negan. "I want this to work - I want our communities to work. We're willing to change our terms, set up equal trade. But we can't do that if someone is out gunning for us specifically."

"If they're after you, that's your problem," Daryl said gruffly. "And what the hell are 'skin-people.'"

"The people that attacked me - Carol and Carl rescued me," Turtle shot Rick a quick look. He had his head ducked, fingers laced together. At the sound of his son's name he raised his head, acknowledging Turtle's words with a small smile. "I didn't kill them all, and I'm sure there are more. They were organized and armed. Well fed, too. The leader was a big guy, taller than Negan. He made it out."

"If they know us, they know you," Negan said. "We're all fucking cozy with each other now."

"You said something about revisiting our terms? Maybe letting us off your leash a little bit?" Rick rubbed his chin. "We aren't doing your dirty work for you. We've already lost people."

"That explosion killed Erik. Was that his name? Almost killed Michonne, too. Trust me, this will benefit all of us."

"Yeah? That's what Jesus said when he asked us to kill you," Daryl pointed at Negan. "We were in too deep. We ain't doing shit like that again."

"You won't have too. This time, it'll be all of us. Sanctuary, Kingdom, Alexandria. Probably not Hilltop," Turtle frowned. "But we're enough, and we can get to the bottom of this. I'm asking you to trust me, Rick. Not Negan, not the rest of the Saviors, but me. And I have no ill will against you or any of your people - none of them have died by my hand."

"Look at you, fuckin' compromising," Negan licked his lips, rubbing a hand across Turtle's shoulder. "You see why I chose her, Rick? She tells it like it is."

"Your men," Rick said seriously. "You command them. They listen to you, respect you. Do they respect her?"
"They can learn," Negan said darkly. He rolled his shoulders, glancing to where Lucille lay against the edge of the couch.

One of Rick's people - Tara - pushed open the door. She was red faced and panting.

Her hands were covered in blood.

Turtle stared. It was all over her palms and it streaked up past her forearms. It was on her face as well, little splatters.

"Spencer is dead. Someone gutted him," Tara heaved. "With a machete or something."

A high-pitched, agonizing scream pierced the air. Then another - lower, more masculine.

"They've gotten in," Turtle stood, spinning. Immediately, Negan grasped Lucille while Michonne's fingers curled around her sword. "It has to be them. Has to be-"

Something stabbed her.

Well, it felt like something stabbed her. A sharp, intense pain in her lower abdomen caused her to stagger, one hand shooting out to grab Negan's arm.

"Start searching," Rick barked, brushing past Turtle. "If they're here, they're using the darkness as cover-"

"Rick!" Glenn said, his voice shaking. He stood, reaching out to help steady Turtle as she sucked in gulps of air. The shock was wearing off but the pain was sharp and pulsing. "Something's wrong!"

Rick ignored him. "Everyone in pairs! Get everyone to lock their doors and stay inside-"

"Rick!" Glenn shouted. Turtle groaned and found herself clutching Glenn's arm while Negan held her, one arm supporting her while the other held Lucille in a vice grip, prepared to swing.

"What's wrong with her?"
"I don't know," Turtle gasped. She squeezed her eyes shut, seeing spots, before allowing Negan to set her back on the couch. He crouched before her, abandoning Lucille by his side and cradling her face in his hands.

"Tessa, baby? What's the matter? What hurts?"

"Glenn and Michonne, start rounding up the others! Daryl and Tara, with me," Rick looked over his shoulder, sighing.

Another scream, another life taken.

"Negan," Rick growled. "Stay here with her."

"No," Turtle gasped. She tried to stand, but Negan forced her back now. She batted his hand away and stood, taking deep breaths, controlling her breathing as the pain began to ebb into something less agonizing. She could work with this pain. She glanced up at Negan, her hand curling around the hilt of her machete.

"You good?" Negan asked.

"Yeah," Turtle lied. "I'm good, I'm good. Let's go."