A/N: Hey guys! I know it's been a while. I really appreciate most of you bearing with me. I assure you I have no intention to abandon this story, but my personal life does get in the way oftentimes. With school starting up, and my job getting extremely hectic. I've been working 17 hour days for the past month and a half.

However, I do need to quickly address something that is fairly uncomfortable for me. While for the most part my wonderful readers have been very kind and encouraging even during the longer waits between updates, this past time I received a fair share of messages and a sprinkle of reviews that were rather hurtful in regards to the wait. I really do appreciate you guy's love for this story. You have no idea how much that means to me. But hearing what a disappointment I am, and how "bullshit," it is to have to wait so long for an update is extremely discouraging. I promise you I am not going anywhere. I will finish this story because it's my baby. But please keep in mind that I am a human being, and I do have feelings. I'm not just a writing robot. I don't make anything other than the pleasure of reading your comments off of the hundreds of hours of work I put into this story. I do have a family and school and work that have to take priority, as well as a whole host of other personal issues that I don't share about too openly. Getting those kinds of messages really hurts me, and if anything it just kills my motivation to write in the few spare moments that I do get in the midst of all the crazy that is my life right now. For the majority of you who are so kind and appreciative, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And to everyone, as always, I hope you read, review, and most of all enjoy.

Adrenaline is turning me into a shaky mess and it's a struggle to keep it together as I speed walk down the hallway as fast as I'm able. I don't know if it's the nerves or the kid that's filling my stomach with a colony of bats, but either way I'm glad I didn't eat dinner.

I never realized how stifled and claustrophobic I've felt the past week until this point, staring down the path to impending freedom. I have looked at the walls surrounding Sanctuary all wrong since I first arrived. I thought they were a symbol of safety and salvation, progress and protection from the outside world that would eat me up and spit me out like the animated corpses populating it. I was wrong. A life away from this hell, away from prisoners, cruelty, and torture, a life away from Negan himself, that's what awaits me on the other side of the walls.

I reach Molly's and my room and almost drop the key, my hands are shaking so badly. It takes me three tries to get the key straight into the lock, but finally it turns and I enter the room that has never felt so small until this moment. My boot catches on the edge of Molly's mattress, but I'm able to catch myself before I fall over her.

"Damn, girl. Be careful!" Molly sits up, setting her book to the side as she watches this bull smash her way through the china shop.

I disregard her warning and supporting myself with a hand against the smooth cinderblock wall, I step up onto my bed with total disregard for the dirt my boots track onto the mattress I'll never use again. I grab my old leather backpack with sweaty hands, fumbling with the drawstrings. Maybe I should have some sort of prioritization or plan by which I pack supplies, but that's just not gonna happen in the timeframe I have to work with.

Infirmary at midnight. Get to the infirmary by midnight.

"What are you doing?" Molly asks in confusion, watching me crumple clothes and shove them to the bottom of my bag.

I let her question go unanswered.

"What's going on?"

I still say nothing.

"Rori, what happened? What's going on!?" Molly's voice raises in pitch by the word.

Sensing that she's not about to let me continue without getting an answer, I turn to look down at her from atop the bed. "I'm leaving," I say plainly, emotionless.

Her eyes widen. "What?" She shakes her head as if she didn't hear me correctly. "What happened? We were doing fine together, we were gonna get a bigger room" -

- "Not here." I clarify. "I meant Sanctuary. I'm leaving the Sanctuary."

Molly reels back, eyebrows raised high. "What?"

I grab another crumple of clothing from the shelf. "I said I'm leaving. Tonight."

"Why would you do that?" Molly gapes.

"I can't stay here anymore." Another tunic gets smushed into my bag.

Molly rounds the mattress, trying to catch my attention head on. "Why?" She presses, but I don't reply. "Where would you even go?"

"I don't know. Anywhere that isn't here."

She drags a palm along the side of her face. "You can't just leave, Rori. You have a baby to think about."

I have to fight to keep my voice down. "I'm doing this for my baby," I shoot back, growing agitated. "I won't let my child live in this place. I refuse to let them know what kind of man their father is."

Molly raises her palms in a pacifying gesture. "It's not perfect here, but it's better than" -

- "No. It's not better. We pretend it is because we're fed and have a place to sleep, but it's the same here as it is out there. Only here we sell our souls to the fucking devil in exchange. Bowing down to some psychotic bastard, people getting their faces burned off as punishment? Is that really better? I saw a prisoner beat to shit, a girl, no different than you or me, they carved her face up, tortured her to death for Negan's sick game. Is that better?"

She doesn't respond as I continue grabbing things and shoving them into my bag. It's a damn good thing I have so little to my name because space is rapidly diminishing.

"You can't go," Molly quietly breaks the silence.

I look down in confusion at the anguish on her face.

"I'm going," I deadpan.

"Rori, you can't."

"Why the fuck not?" I finally raise my voice, dropping my bag on the bed as I step down to her level.

"Please…" her big, brown, eyes, glisten.

"Why do you care so much?"

"He'll kill me if you go," she whispers, looking away as she nervously tucks her hair behind her ears.

I roll my eyes. "Don't be dramatic," I say, shaking my head, dismissing her worry, "why on earth would he do that?"

"Please, Rori. We can work it out, please just stay."

"No." I turn away to focus on grabbing the baby things off the shelf.

"I can't let you do this." She says it so quietly I almost don't even hear it, but it infuriates me nonetheless. I'm tired of everyone and their brother thinking they can tell me how to run my life, or that they know what's best for me.

"You're not letting me do anything," I snap.

She backs up to the door, leaning against it like she's ready to physically prevent me from leaving. "If I let you go and don't tell him, he'll" -

"Tell him?" I cut her off, turning sharply to look at her. She pales, opening and closing her mouth as if she's trying to backtrack on the fly. "Why would you tell him anything?"

"Please don't go," she stammers.

I leave the baby basket on the shelve and step closer to her. "Why would you tell him anything?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Why would you tell Negan anything?"

Molly looks tiny against the door, refusing to look me in the eyes.

"He gave me more points and got me out of the bunks," she dribbles, "you never saw how bad it was in there. He just wanted me to be your friend, and I already liked you."

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to piece together what she's saying. My face heats up. "So you spied on me?"

"No!" She finally looks up at me, imploring my understanding. "I never went through your things or anything like that."

"You just tell him everything I do and say." Now it makes perfect sense how he knew what happened in the showers.

"Not everything. Only the things he asked for."

"Christ," I look away from her, disgusted. "You're just as fucked up as the rest." My back protests viciously as I stretch up to grab the basket of baby things off the shelf. I can't trust anyone. Everyone is all for themselves in this life and it's high time I follow suit.

Molly steps forward from the door and I try to ignore her voice as I struggle to get the basket down without having to get up on the bed again. She catches me off guard when she places a hand on my arm, pulling my attention back to her. "Please, he could hurt me if I don't try to stop you."

I shrug my arm out of her grasp violently, and look her straight in the eyes. "I will hurt you if you try to stop me."

I am dead serious too. I liked Molly, but I will not hesitate to do whatever it takes to get myself and the baby inside me away from this hell. It's a dog eat dog world now, and without Bailey around, I need to grow my own set of jaws to survive.

Molly doesn't try to touch me again. Instead, she stands in the corner of the room, ripping her thumbnail to bits with her teeth, watching me continue to transfer the baby supplies into my backpack.

I discard the empty basket to the side and set the Gremblygunk that Eugene gave me back up on the shelf. There just isn't room for it in my bag.

Molly, cautiously moves around me, taking care to avoid bumping me as she grabs the basket off the bed. She steps up on my mattress and starts grabbing some of her things off the shelf.

"What are you doing?" It's my turn to ask.

She looks down at me briefly, "I'm going with you," she mutters.

"I don't want you," I scoff.

"We could still make it together," she insists as she packs another set of clothes into the basket.

"No." I step over her mattress, maneuvering carefully towards the door.

"How do you even plan on getting out?" She stops me in my tracks. "Have you thought that through?"

"I have someone."

"Someone whose job is to guard the gate?"

I sink my teeth into my lip because I know what she's getting at. Her eyes burn brightly as they bore into mine in a stalemate, both of us waiting for me to make the next move. I hate myself as I open my stupid mouth. "I swear to god if you do anything to jeopardize this…"

"I won't."

Molly's word, much like everyone else's, doesn't count for much, but if the alternative is for her to make a big stink and ruin any chance I have at escaping this place, I don't have much of a choice.

I can't stop knotting my fingers together as I sit in the darkness of the infirmary, waiting for the signal from Molly. Dwight doesn't say a word, but the tap of his fingers against the counter top stretches time out as if each second lasts an hour.

When I arrived at the infirmary, Molly in tow, at a quarter to midnight, Dwight was already here. Though initially he argued that our deal didn't include a plus one, I informed him that Molly had been brought up to speed on not only the role he has in my escape, but his involvement in Sherry's death and Daryl's release to begin with. Let's just say he saw the light rather quickly.

The wait passes so slowly that I'm starting to think that maybe Molly double crossed me. Nevertheless, after a few more agonizing minutes, the small red dot of the laser pointer Dwight provided peeks unmistakably through the blinds on the window. Three short bursts of the laser signal the all clear, she'd been able to convince the gate guard to trade shifts.

With my heart in my throat and my stomach somewhere around my ankles, Dwight and I exit the infirmary, taking care to lock the door behind us. My sense of hearing feels heightened as I become aware of every tiny noise, startling when Dwight steps on a leaf. The crunch would be imperceptible to most anyone, but to me it might as well have been an explosion.

Molly opens the gate just wide enough to get a small vehicle through before climbing down from the guard platform and meeting us at the makeshift car park just inside the gate. Dwight leads us over to a black, rickety looking beater of a sedan at the end of the short row of cars and trucks.

He forgoes the key fob and unlocks the car by hand. "We can't start it inside the gate. We'll need to push it," he whispers, looking back at us.

I take that as my cue to hop in the front to steer. I'm not pushing anything unless we want this baby to make its debut in the backseat.

Molly and Dwight round the front and I pop the car in neutral. It takes a bit of effort on their part to get the momentum building, but once we finally get rolling I'm able to steer the car out of the line and angle it so it's a straight shot to the gate. Silently huffing and puffing they move to the back and strain to get the car moving up the slight incline on uneven terrain. It's a tense few minutes, but finally the rear bumper crosses the threshold of the gate.

I move to the passenger seat as Molly closes the gate behind us, leaving it unlocked so Dwight will be able to get in by himself when he returns.

It's probably a false sense of security, but relief washes over me nonetheless when Molly slides into the backseat, stowing our belongings beside her, and Dwight finally starts the car. My eyes stay peeled for any sign of the plan going wrong, but we start driving down the stretch of road without a hitch.

I can't believe I'm doing this, I think, looking back through the warped tint of the rear windshield to take in one last look at Sanctuary. I can barely make out the silhouette of the Big House against the darkness of the night. Without warning, tears start to trickle down my face as painful memories, not of a life gone wrong, but of happiness, love, laughter, and healing saturate my thoughts. At the sensation of a volley of kicks inside my womb I rest my hand against my belly and swallow back the good memories. They weren't real. The suffering scrawled on that unnamed girl's body, that was real. Her blood showed the shade of Negan's true colors.

With one final glance, I turn my back to the past and look out to the unfurling, dimly lit path ahead.

We drive in silence, and after the fourth or fifth turn, I stop making mental notes of the way back. I need to let this journey have the finality it should if I want to move on in peace. I keep an eye on the incorrect dashboard clock. Two hours have passed since we began the drive, though I'm not sure what kind of distance that represents with all the changes in direction. Finally Dwight pulls into the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse facility

"Here?" I turn to Dwight, confused by his location of choice.

"It's safe," he nods, "some of the units closest are cleared, but the ones that aren't should be stocked."

Molly watches us, hesitant in the backseat. "This wasn't what we agreed on." My voice is clipped even in hushed tones.

"You said you wanted out from Sanctuary," he counters, gesturing to the warehouses, "this is out."

I don't know what to say because while I was not expecting to be delivered to some palace, I also wasn't expecting to be dumped in some random location.

Molly leans forward, wariness showing on her face. She looks at Dwight with narrow eyes, "how do we know you're not sending us into a place full of dead heads, or that you're not gonna just kill us as soon as we get out?".

"You don't."

My stomach tightens and I stare at Dwight, trying to read him the best I can. "How am I supposed to trust you?"

His unburned eyebrow ticks up. "Do you have much choice?"

He's got a point and it's infuriating. I unbuckle my seatbelt and climb out of the car. It is somewhat of a relief that there are no dead in the immediate area. I choose to take that as a sign of good intent on Dwight's part, though as he said, I don't have much choice but to trust him.

Molly gets out from the back seat, pulling the bag of my things and the basket of hers with her. Dwight pops the trunk and retrieves another large black backpack. He looks like he's about to hand it to me, but in the dark he glances at my protruding belly and turns, giving the bag to Molly whose shoulder sinks under its weight.

"There's some food in there, canned shit that won't go bad, water, a little ammo, and an extra knife. You should be good for a while," Dwight says, scratching at his jaw.

I look back at the warehouses, uneasy suddenly as the reality of forfeiting the Sanctuary's protection and comfort settles on me. It's been so long since I've been responsible for my own survival that I'm not even sure I remember how to begin. "You're sure this is the best place?"

Dwight meets my gaze intensely and nods.

Air stretches my lungs as I force myself to take a deep breath and resign myself to this new paradigm.

"Thank you."

Dwight casts his eyes down with a curt nod.

Molly hands me my bag and slips the heavier one over both shoulders, holding the basket against her hip as we stand back and watch Dwight re-enter the car, start it up, and drive away. The silence is crushing between us as we watch the fading tail lights grow smaller and smaller until they eventually disappear.

"If the world hadn't gone to hell, where would you be right now?"

Molly's voice interrupting the silence for the first time in hours breaks my concentration and hot wax drips painfully on my hand for the millionth time. I ignore her stupid question, just like I've ignored pretty much everything that's come out of her pie hole for the past two days, and keep trying to warm this damn can of green beans with a stupid birthday candle. Under normal circumstances I'd have quit attempting this fool's errand about a half hour ago, but there's nothing to do besides exist in this warehouse, so whether it kills me or not, I'm gonna have some warm green beans dammit.

"I'd be at school right about now. Go Hoos…" Molly evidently doesn't get the hint as she answers herself where she lays, body bent at a right angle with her legs sticking straight up against the wall, kicking her toes together. "I never actually went to any games," she laughs, "too busy getting smashed with my friends, procrastinating on life, with a bitch RA banging on our door to quiet down... What about you?"

I keep on keepin on with the silent treatment.

She swivels her legs down and pushes herself up to a normal human seated position. "You were a vet tech right?"

I hiss through gritted teeth, annoyed that she won't shut up, and that another dollop of hot wax just sizzled my fingers. Fuck it, I'm eating it cold. Dumbass Dwight didn't pack cutlery of any kind in the bag, so I try to avoid slicing my lips open on the jagged metal edge and throw back a gulp of cold green beans.

"I guess it makes sense how you were the only person I knew after the apocalypse that still had a dog," she muses.

A slimey green bean catches in my throat, sending me into a coughing fit. "Will you shut the hell up?" I choke out, seething at her mention of Bailey.

She shrugs. "There's no one here but me. You can't hate me forever. Might as well talk about something."

I glare at Molly, which doesn't seem to perturb her in the slightest. "Can we strike my dead dog off the fucking list?"

"Sure," she says brightly, cheering at the second response she's gotten out of me in two days. "You never answered the original question."

"That's because it's a stupid question."

"Nonetheless it still stands," she smirks.

I eat a couple more gulps of green beans, trying not to gag at the disgusting texture as I actually think about her question. Where would I be right now if the world had never fallen? "I wouldn't be pregnant for one thing," I start begrudgingly.

"You never know."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "When all this started, I was a 22 year old virgin, who lived with her older brother and had a fifty fifty chance at any moment of being covered in animal piss. I wouldn't be pregnant with any man's baby."

I rest my hands atop my stomach, which has grown into quite the nice perch.

Molly stares at her lap intensely for a moment, and when she raises her gaze, her expression has sobered. "Rori, about Negan" -

- "I don't want to hear shit about him," I cut her off instantly.

Her eyebrows pinch as she bites her lip. "I just want you to know I'm" -

"Don't you dare say you're sorry." I pin her with a vicious glare.

"But I really" -

- "No. You're not. Not for what you did. You're sorry you got caught and now I'm pissed at you. There's a difference."

Molly's shoulders sag as she stares at me, eyes pleading as her mouth hangs. Maybe I should feel bad for being so harsh on her, but really I don't give a shit. She betrayed me. She played me just as much as Negan did. The dissolution of this friendship falls squarely on her shoulders.

The can tings against the concrete floor as I chuck it away. Molly evidently finally gives up trying to look for some forgiveness or something that she won't be finding in me and rolls over on her side, and my hip protests with sharp aching as I do the same, facing away from her. Painful concrete floor and all, I'd still take this damn warehouse over Sanctuary any day.

"Goddammit," I curse as I jerk myself away from the third nightmare this fucking night. My clothes are glued to my body with sweat, and warm tears trickle down my cheeks as I stay curled up on the concrete. My heart throbs painfully within my chest, and I hate myself for the weak bitch I've become. Even after everything, all I want to do is curl up in the safety of Negan's arms, tuck myself against his warm, solid, chest, and try to believe him as his voice whispers softly that everything will be alright. I hate myself even more for thinking that that Negan ever truly existed.

There's a snake's chance in a bloody three legged race, that I'm going back to sleep after all this shit, so I pry myself up from the floor and quietly do a lap around the warehouse for the umpteenth time in the past three days. I stop at the door to the building and press my ear to the smooth metal door.

"Are they still there?"

Molly's voice makes me jump, my hand reaching down instantly to my gun. I take a deep breath to clear my head from the startle. Rattling groans and the sound of limping feet dragging on concrete bleed through the door, though it's not as loud as it's been the past couple days.

"I think they're thinning out, we could probably take 'em down by hand," I mutter lazily. The group of dead gathered outside our unit in the warehouse after the first night, probably attracted by the sounds and smells of us, but considering we haven't seen daylight in four days now, I have no idea what kind of numbers we're looking at.

"When do you" -

- "Shh," I hush her immediately as a new sound starts to join the mix outside the door. An engine sputters, not too far in the distance.

"What is it?"

"Shut it," I growl at Molly, pressing my ear harder against the door. Closing my eyes, I focus in on the sounds. Doors slamming. Human voices speaking unintelligibly. The dead seem to be attracted to the noises as their guttural sounds and shuffling feet start to drift further away from the door. "Get your shit ready," I whisper as I head back over to my stuff and start chucking things back in the bag.

"Rori, what's going on?" Molly stares at me wide eyed and confused as she starts packing at a snail's pace.

"No idea. But whatever it is, it's distracting the dead. If we go now, we can get out of here without a fight." I stand up, my back and hips already protesting the movement. "Get your ass in gear, we need to go now," I add.

Molly rolls her eyes at my less than polite tone with her, but she listens and is ready to go just minutes later. I take a place at the door, hand on the knob, ear to the metal, listening to the commotion in the distance. I hear another vehicle pull up, more people's voices adding to the sound. It seems to be coming from parking lot behind the units where Dwight dropped us off the other night, which spells good things for us. As long as we go out through the front, we should hopefully be able to avoid both the living and the dead.

"Let's go," I mouth to Molly. We both draw our weapons and with my heart in my throat I turn the knob. We must have had our sleeping patterns messed with during the days inside, because the sun is far higher in the sky than I was anticipating, and the bright light is agonizing against my eyes. I blink against the intrusion of the brightness, but sure enough, the dead have moved on from the outside of our unit.

Molly stays close behind me as we silently creep our way through the rows of warehouses. Our boots thud quietly against the concrete and our tense heavy breathing sounds like a bullhorn in my ears, but whatever is going on behind us must be a decent enough distraction to keep the dead occupied.

For the most part, I can't make out much of what is said by the men behind us, but I stop abruptly, so much so that Molly runs into me from behind at the single word that makes my blood freeze.

"Where are you going?" Molly hisses at me, in frustration. "Rori, what the hell?"

It's stupid as shit and I know it, like running towards the sound of gunfire, but I know what I heard. Keeping out of sight behind the last row of warehouses I listen to their conversation.

"Negan himself, might just have to make a visit to one of these meetings if you guys can't get your shit together," a man I can't see threatens.

"I assure you, Gavin, that will be most unnecessary. You have my solemn honor." The responding voice is deep and full, but I can hear the tension in his words.

"Your honor means jack shit to me. It's simple as this, Negan doesn't want excuses, he wants results. Do better next week, or whatever happens is on your head."

I turn to Molly, who doesn't appear at all as confused as I do. "Must be a pickup," she whispers.

"A what?"

She looks at me like I'm missing something extremely obvious.

Whatever, we've wasted enough time and if there are Saviors running around, I don't want to risk being seen. "Let's go. We need to be quick about it," I breathe as we hear one of the vehicles start up and drive away.

My stomach feels like it's braiding itself, and sweat drips down my neck as we make our way back down the aisle between the warehouses. Just a little bit further.

Everything falls to shit instantly. I spin around at the sickening snap followed by a loud thud. Molly shrieks in pain, clinging to her ankle. A fucking crack in the pavement, that's all it took to send us both to hell.

"Molly, please. You need to shut up," I plead with her, trying to pull her to her feet to no avail.

Her face screws up in agony as she pushes me away. "Go on," she chokes, groaning around the words.

As if things couldn't get worse, a group of the dead start to pour down the aisle, scuffling towards the disturbance Molly created.

"I'm not leaving you," I spit, grabbing her hand. "Come on!"

"I can't. Just go!"

"Goddammit!" I drop her hand and step past her, hurrying towards the monsters as the dead get closer and closer. I take out the first two quickly with my knife, but this far into pregnancy I'm nowhere near as agile as I once was, and they are closing in too fast. Retreating back closer to Molly, I pull out my gun and start shooting.

The dead drop from my headshots, but not as many as should. Adrenaline making my hands shake screws up almost every other shot. There are still a couple left when the trigger stops firing.

"Molly, we have to go," I plead with her, "You have to get up."

"What are you gonna do? Carry me? Go!"

Molly and I both scream as gunfire rings out, making me drop to my knees for cover. If it's not the dead who get you, it'll be the living. God, please let them make it quick.

My very soul is shaking inside me when silence falls, but I'm still alive and Molly is as well. I'm not stupid enough to think we're out of the woods yet. If it was Saviors who finished the walkers off, they might as well save Negan the trouble and execute us both now. Crippling fear keeps my head bowed.

"Have either of you been bitten?" The deep, booming voice calls out.

I still can't bring myself to look up for the terror of being recognized.

"N-No," Molly stammers, tears still streaming down her face as she holds her ankle.

"Then if you will please permit my people to approach, that we may be able to provide you with assistance."

I take a deep breath, still trembling as I raise my head to look up towards the voice. I've never seen this man or any of his people before, and no look of familiarity crosses their expressions at my visage. Glancing down at Molly, she nods tearfully to me.

Despite my wariness of strangers, I set my knife and empty gun to the side to show I won't attack and nod to give them permission.

I watch the people closely as they make their way down the concrete aisle. All of them look clean, have weapons, and are decked out in some kind of armor. Clearly they have a stable place to live.

Even with my jello legs, I push myself to my feet. None of the people attempt to draw a weapon, nor do they put my instincts on edge. I know better than to trust anyone, but for the time being they don't appear to mean us harm. Two men, one with long, messy hair, who looks even younger than Molly, and an older man with dark skin and kind features speak instructions softly as they help Molly stand, supporting all her weight between their shoulders.

I wrap my arm protectively around my belly as I approach the man who appears to be the leader. He smiles at me with warm brown eyes beneath a crown of greying dreadlocks.

"It appears to have been a stroke of good fortune that our paths would cross on such a day as this. While I am sympathetic to a natural distrust of the unfamiliar in our current age, it is my hope that you should accompany your friend back to our home, where she shall be provided medical assistance if she should allow it."

I stare at him dumbfounded, my lips parting, but unable to speak.

The man shakes his head with good humor. "Pardon my poor etiquette. Allow me to introduce myself," he apologizes as he extends his hand in a true greeting. I am numb as I accept the handshake. "I am King Ezekiel, and I am ruler of The Kingdom."