Thanks everyone for reading this story. I hope you are enjoying! Happy Labor Day weekend!

Alexandra peppered the Savior soldiers for questions but no one seemed to be able to give a concrete answer. Many of them had seen Negan fall at the hands of Rick, though the versions of the story varied so greatly that there was no way to tell what was real and what the men had created in their minds.

Negan fell to the ground, got up and fought Rick and the two of them were carted away. Both of them might have died... these were the claims of one man.

I never saw Negan's throat slashed. I thought he was stabbed in the chest but I didn't see anything else... the claims of another.

After a collection of truths and thought-to-be truths, the story evolved so greatly that Alexandra felt like her head was spinning. All she could tell for sure was that Negan was missing. In her mind, at least for now, missing was better than dead.

The rest of the day passed by slowly. When Alexandra returned to the home she shared with Negan she drowned in her sorrows, crying into the pillow that still lingered with his scent. She put on one of his t-shirts as the day came to a close and cuddled herself around a pillow on his side of the bed. She let her hand drifted to the empty space beside her and prayed by some miracle she would get to see his face again.

Rick slit his throat... The voice from the radio earlier echoed in Alexandra's mind and she knew the chances for survival with a wound like that were bleak at best.

Alexandra suddenly sat up, wiping her eyes and reached for the radio set to channel nine. "Negan?" she whimpered desperately. "Negan are you there?" The chances were slim, she knew, but she had to try to contact him. "Negan!" Her heart thudded in her chest as she listened to the silence, waiting for something; anything. The sound of the button clicking on the other end would be enough to give her just a fraction of hope, but it never came.

The clock on the wall made its time-changing ticks, clicking from midnight to one o'clock, to two, three and four. Alexandra finally passed out from exhaustion in the wee hours of the morning, only to awake halfway through the following day with a headache, itchy eyes and a dry mouth. She felt worse than being hungover, and the heavy feeling in her chest returned when she realized the feel of Negan's arm around her waist had been nothing but a dream.

She drew a hand over her stomach, the only thing that could provide her comfort at that moment and thought about what the child might be like. If nothing else then Negan would do as he intended, leaving his legacy with her in the form of a child.

Alexandra knew she had to get herself to The Hilltop at some point, but there wasn't an ounce of her that wanted to move from the spot in the bed the two of them shared together. It was all she had to hold on to.

Time passed, and the day soon faded as darkness crept in and Alexandra had barely moved. She knew she needed to come back to life, but also acknowledged her need to mourn. She sighed and finally stood up from the bed and opened a closet filled with Negan's clothes. She threw on a black hooded sweatshirt that he didn't wear all that often and then grabbed the keys to the truck he had shown her.

Alexandra slunk out of the building toward the garage, popping open the locks and heading inside the way she had with Negan a few days before. She decided to prepare for her exit if need be and decided she would stock up on items that could get her by if she was somehow flung into the open space littered with walkers and potential assailants. The truck was a perfect place to begin stocking up and storing things, and so that's what she began to do.

She walked up to the truck first and opened the driver's side door before sitting down and starting the engine. The CCR CD was still in the player and began to rattle off the song Down on the Corner. Rather than attempt to enjoy the upbeat song, Alexandra skipped back to the first track and listened to the one that she had danced to with Negan in that same spot several days ago. She slumped down in the seat, pulled down her hood and sat there alone, sobbing as loud as she could. There was no one there to hear her.

Negan had no energy and barely moved from where he was chained on the wall. Every so often someone would come down to check on him. Of all the people Carl was the one who actually scared him a bit. He sent chilling glares his way and claimed there would be no consequence from his father or otherwise if he chose to kill him.

"You want to kill me?" Negan asked him, smirking as he did despite the circumstances.

"Yup." That was Carl's simple response, and he left happily with a quiet smile on his face.

Negan didn't mind when the boy came down to taunt him, even the times when he thought he might actually care out the assassination. It provided some sense of entertainment, to say the least, and it beat having to sit in the darkness wondering what was to come for him... and for Alexandra. He assumed word had spread that he was dead, and imagined what she might be doing that exact moment. Was she crying? Was she scared? Mad? Would she try to avenge him? Did she take the pregnancy test like he asked? What were the results? Would she suck up her pride and allow the people of The Hilltop to aid in keeping her and the baby safe?

All of the what-ifs were enough to drive him crazy. He hated himself for putting her in the position she was in now. Rick's words had actually made sense just before he pulled back and slit his throat. He would have agreed. He would have attempted this new life of bartering and sharing and all of it.

Too little, too late, he thought. Negan leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He knew if he hadn't been so prideful that things could have been different. Alexandra had changed his way of thinking and rather than ride out that way of life he had been stuck between his former self and the man Alexandra had turned him into. Holding onto his prior convictions had led him to where he was now - alone in a basement chained to the wall getting fed scraps while the woman he loved was probably attempting to make sense of everything and pick up the pieces.

"Here you go Negan." Carl re-entered the basement with a shit-eating-grin. "Dog food sandwich for you." He tossed the ceramic plate in his direction, sending the sandwich tumbling to the floor.

Negan eyed it and replied with a simple, "Thanks a fucking lot kid." He smirked and nodded before reaching down with his unchained hand to gather it off the ground.

Carl stared at him for a moment and then turned, victorious in his strut from the fresh hell that Negan had been placed in.

He tossed the sandwich down when the kid left and decided he would wait until he couldn't take it anymore to eat it. Negan's only positive thoughts were that he had all the time in the world to think of a route of escape. On the same note, he prayed that Alexandra would arrive at The Hilltop and figure out what had happened - that he wasn't dead. While the near future looked rough, Negan knew there was a chance for a turnaround at some point. The stars had to align perfectly, but he had a small ounce of hope inside of him.

Hang in there baby, he thought. Be tough and get yourself to The Hilltop.