Chapter 31
Sing Me a Song
I walked the distance back to town, running Vanessa's words over in my head.

Arrogant; Dad had called me it as well before I left home.

"You're not invincible. You're arrogant and it's going to get you killed someday."

Was he right? Would I just end up getting myself and others killed, if I kept this up? My mind was so preoccupied that walking through the forest I didn't catch the sight of the snare before it was too late.

My ankle caught on something thick and binding, like a rope, and before I had time to consider how odd that was, my legs were yanked out from under me and I was being dragged harshly across the ground before it was snapped suddenly up and lifted high into the air. It all happened so fast I only had time to let out a shaky yelp of surprise before I suddenly found myself dangling upside down about six feet above the earth.

Whatever was in my pockets dropped out of them and my cloak hung down around my face, blinding me and making it more awkward with the material obstructing my vision.

I kicked and cried out instinctively. "What the hell!" Then I heard a branch snap below me and reached down to grab my cloak, lifting it up just in time to watch as something shot from out of nowhere and hit me hard against the head.

My vision swam with darkness and nothing more.

I could remember having the strangest dream. Through it, a blinding pain throbbed in my skull the whole time. It was so awful that I couldn't make sense of anything the entire time. All I honestly remember were people standing over me as they talked between each other. Most of what they said was indistinguishable, but I recognized words like "witch" "dead" and "wolves" being thrown around.

And then there were bangs like gunshots being fired and loud screams. In the back of my mind I processed the reality of an attack but could not make my body react one bit. I didn't panic or struggle or even look around to gage the gravity of this situation. In my fogged vision, I saw people getting up to fight with knives and various bladed weapons but the attackers, whomever they were, had guns and seemed to be far better strategized than these people. I glanced towards one that moved closer to me, kneeling down to where I lay to study me carefully.

I saw his mouth move and detected words coming from it. Towards the far back of my memory, he looked familiar, but I still couldn't connect the dots for where I might have seen him.

"Hey, I know this girl."

"Isn't she one of those Alexandrian assholes?"

"Yeah. This's Rick's other brat."

He grabbed a handful of my hair and lifted my head up. There was no pain I registered as I was held up. My body was completely unresponsive.

"Hey, you alive in there?"

"Ah she's bleeding pretty bad on her head there. They must've caught and brained her good. Doesn't look very responsive. Get her up and we'll see what Negan wants to do with her."

And then the darkness swallowed me up again.

I roused only a few times through it. Once I glanced to see myself lying off to the side as a dark figured strode up and down a line of blurry offset people. With a gesture of his hand shots were fired and the kneeling people fell to the ground. I think they were killed.

Next time I opened my eyes I was leaning on someone and I was in a vehicle or car. I could see a windshield in front of me while the headlights flashed across the darkness.

When I opened them again, a light was shining in my eyes and an unfamiliar voice was speaking again.

"She definitely has a concussion. She's not too responsive at the moment. I can at least bandage her up and see where we go from there. Give her maybe a day to recover with plenty of rest."

The final time I opened them I was much more lucid and my motor skills were back.

My eyes peeled apart the crust and redness to stare up at a ceiling I didn't recognize. Everything hurt and it was hard as hell to move. My back felt enflamed and my head throbbed. Once again, I was dehydrated and dizzy and so unbearably nauseous.

My mouth flooded with water and I felt something rush from my stomach. Oh no… I needed a bin!

I tipped on my side and heaved, but only a meager trail of saliva and bile came up. Everything… my whole body felt attacked!

My head especially hurt so freaking much. If I even tried to touch it, a wave of pain tore from it and my vision filled with white. I felt like I was spinning on a top and all I could do was try and brace myself till it slowed.

"You're up," came a voice from above.

"No, I'm not." I moaned feeling sick again.

There was an insistent ringing in my ears that made everything hard to understand. I could hear the words but the tone and sound of whoever was speaking was indistinguishable. Still… I felt that the voice was somewhat familiar.

"I see you made a mess on the floor. Is there something else wrong with you?"

I was feeling sick again and everything was still spinning. "Stop the room, already. I want to get off."

"That bad huh?" I felt the bed dip as someone took a seat beside me, "Well I'll get someone in here to take a look at you. In the meantime, I bet you're thirsty. Try not to chug it. You're smart enough to know it'll only make you worse."

A glass was put in my hands and I forced myself to take small tentative sips. The water soaked my papery mouth, filling me with instant relief to let me blink a few times. Little by little, the spinning stopped and with it, my vision cleared to let me notice my visitor for the first time.

"What are you doing here?" I snapped, my heart leaping in my throat at the sight of Negan. Dad would never have let him anywhere near me! He must've forced his way through or intimidated Tobin enough to gain entrance. Something like that at least! "Dad never would have let you into the infirmary! Where is he?"

Negan looked a little stunned, then that freaking swaggering smirk was back on him. "Where do you think you are right now?"

By those words something in me clicked and my vision steadily improved while I began to notice my surroundings for the first time.

"This… this isn't Alexandria." It was daunting how much this room was nothing like the rooms back home. It was cold and windowless and I was lied out on a plain bed with scratchy sheets and thin felt blankets. There was a side table with some gauze and saline then two glasses and a pitcher of water. The only furniture within the room was the bed a cushioned chair and the side table, other than that there were no wall hangings or anything else inside it. I was so afraid of what it all meant for me that I didn't want to find out the truth for it. Negan unfortunately had no problem with verifying my worst fears.

"Nope. You're not in Alexandria, kiddo."

"Why? What am I doing here?" Faint flashes of the night before flitted through my head just then, but they were blurry and offset; more like scenes from a very hazy dream than anything concrete. The last thing I remembered clearly was walking off into the forest and then...

I was dragged by my ankle and pulled suddenly off my feet. I was hovering… no I was hung upside down. Slowly, it began to dawn on me that I had stepped into a trap and the last thing I saw was something ramming into the side of my head.

"It was you! You… set the trap and dragged me here!"

My heart hammered in my chest and I scrambled away from him, my back hitting the wall as I tried to put as much distance as I could between me and him. Pure terror filled every sense I had and it must have shown on my features very well as Negan's face changed with my alarm.

"Don't go jumping to conclusions."

Even as he said it, my mind was already leaping to the worst. What did they know? It wasn't possible they could have found out so suddenly! We had been so careful. Only the bare minimum of people knew. My own brother didn't even know!

"Why am I here? What are you planning?!"

He looked genuinely startled at that moment and held his hands away from me, careful to show that he was not about to do anything I didn't approve of.

"Whoa, Judy, I'm not going to hurt you? I don't work like that!"

I wasn't convinced though, and leapt out of the bed, stumbling as far from him as I could manage.

"I-I want to go back home—right now!"

His whole face looked deeply perplexed, like this was not what he'd been expecting at all. Maybe he had predicted anger or disgust at the least from me, but certainly not terror.

"God, you really think I'm going to hurt you."

"Why else would you have set that trap?" I demanded holding my arms to keep from quivering.

"I didn't set that up!" He fired back, throwing his hands in the air.

"Don't lie!" I yelled back at him, quite nearly hysterical at the thought. "What are you planning to do to me?"

"What makes you think I plan to do anything with you? What makes you think I even want you here?"

Those words threw me completely off. Why wouldn't he want me here? I was the cure of course. Did this mean he didn't know? I took in his response and the obvious confusion he had with my reaction in all this. It slowly began to dawn on me that if Negan knew anything about the cure he would have been gloating about it by now, not standing and facing me like he looked completely clueless about why I was freaking out so much.

"Then… you didn't…"

"No! God no! I didn't set that up!" The idea looked like it disgusted him and the mere accusation seemed to have deeply offended him. "So, you can stop having an aneurism now! If I was planning to take you away I would have made sure your Dad knew you were with me, not stake out in the woods and snatch you up like some kind of shady child predator. If you haven't noticed already, I much prefer to do my business out in the open."

I wobbled there in the middle of the floor, confused and petrified. "Then why…"

"I'll get to that, but sit down. You look like you're about to fall over."

Shakily, I backed into the only chair, staying far from where he was still seated on the bed. If he was smart, he'd stay there and not approach me just yet.

"Alright so where to begin…" He crossed his arms while he started; the move seemed uncharacteristically guarded for him and from what I knew about him, he never needed to be guarded.

"We had heard some reports about some wild men running amuck out in the woods. They killed a few of my people. I sent a party to go after them, but they've picked up this unusual expertise for herding the dead. They were making a big fucking problem for me, so I went and found out where they were all staked out; got a few boys together, not as many as it took to bring your people to heal but enough to make a point. We weren't able to be lenient with these guys, though. One look at them and I could tell they were real sickos. You're so fucking lucky you were unconscious before you found out what kind of accommodations they lived in. You would have needed some serious therapy for that.

"Anyways we busted into their secret lair and once we brushed off their pawns we combed through the castle and a few of my men found you, of all hostages, tied up and brained pretty bad. It was a good thing we made such a fucking commotion while we did it. You were stuck in a room full of helmet-spiked flesh-eaters and if they weren't so fucking attracted by the music our guns made they would have gnawed you down to the bone."

He let the words sink in before continuing and I felt a shiver run through me, but not in the way he probably thought. Those people knew I wouldn't have died. The walkers were just going to stay as far from me as they could. Rather… they had been used more like guards to keep others out than anything else, and the realization of that chilled me to the bones.

Negan went on though, and for once there was no humor or gloating at all in his expression; only a dark vengeful scowl that seemed hidden partially by shadow. "And as crazy as it sounds, you'll never understand the fury that swept through me when I found out they had you in there, tied up like some prisoner of war. That concussion wasn't the only mark they left on you, but it's quite clear you don't remember a whole hell of a lot that went down, so I'm not going to go into any more details than that. I'll spare your poor innocent mind from that torture a second time. After that, their fates were sealed."

He looked at me and the cold that rippled through his eyes made me want to shiver a second time. "You should be thanking me. Those people were about to do worse than kill you. And if they were about to do that to some kid like you, just imagine what they could have done to your people if left alive."

My whole body was petrified by the knowledge. I didn't know words to say that could respond adequately to that slew of information. I felt tainted just then. What had Negan meant by torture? I didn't feel any different than normal. I mean, sure I had some bumps and bruises, there were a few areas like my back and head that hurt worse because of the injuries, but nothing unexpected. What could he have meant? What did they do to me? What did he know that I didn't? As much as the thought bothered me I only stayed quiet. I was too afraid to ask.

Out of loss for anything else I merely kept my gaze down and my mouth closed. I didn't think I could open it again without being sick a second time.

After a long moment, Negan spoke again. "I can see this is a whole lot to take in. You're still pretty shaken up and you're having trouble digesting this shit-ton shock to your system. But before you go, you are going to use the measly bit of courtesy you can muster and thank me for saving your life. I don't think I need to remind you of what will happen if you don't."

The memory of our last conversation echoed in my brain and I swallowed, beginning reluctantly.

"…Thank you." I said, without expression.

"Thank you what?"

My teeth clenched behind my lips as I elaborated. "Thank you for saving my life."

He sat back on his hands, a smug smile gracing his face in a way that looked triumphant. With that expression, there was no way I was able to stop the slew of words that came next to correct his good mood.

"However, you've been perfectly clear with me today, so let me return the favor." I began with an identical expression and tone he had carried while he explained the events that led towards my unexpected attendance.

"I am not in your debt." I stated firmly, looking him square in the eye. His smile dropped instantly with that statement and remained off the more I continued. "You did not kill those people to save me. You were not attacking their base to rescue me from anything. And you didn't execute them to avenge any crime that was committed towards my honor. They were a pest you were already exterminating. You preserved my life because it was convenient to save me and because letting me die would cause you a lot of problems with my family. I also find you good stuff. I didn't twist your arm or ask for your help in any way. Your actions are your own to live with for the rest of your life. If this truth hurts you, well tough! The truth was never kind to anyone and it makes no exceptions."

The room was left in a heavy silence while my statement hung in the air. We both stared at one another dead in the eye, neither intending to look away or break contact. It seemed like he was studying me after that announcement. Finally, he spoke and that same smirk that made me so damn angry was suddenly back.

"Fuck kid, even when I think I'm about to wring that scrawny little neck of yours I'm still somehow blown away by the enormous fucking balls you've got." He nearly laughed. "You've been through some fucked up shit just now. The typical psychological response is subservience and timidity, but you bounced back like a fucking rubber ball and remembered exactly who you are. Didn't scathe you one bit now, did it?" His gaze transformed to resemble something like longing. "Fuck, I wish I had a son like you."

My insides turned to knots and I couldn't conceal the unwanted blush that swept over me with those words. More than anything I hated it when he complimented me. It made me feel uncomfortable.

His expression seemed to change thoughtfully just then. "You were terrified before when you thought I was the one who set that trap. Why was that, sweetheart?"

He was getting smart and suspicious; time to bluff then.

"I was worried. If you intentionally set it then that meant you had plans for me or whoever fell in it, and I don't think I'd like to find out what those plans could be."

"I thought you knew me better than that. You really think I'd be interested in you that way?" Once again, he looked incredibly insulted. "Really, Judith, do you honestly think so little of me?"

"Were you expecting me to think highly of you?"

His smile wilted away. "You've only been here for ten minutes and I'm already tired of your attitude, but I still want something for saving your life."

"I am not…"

"Bullshit you're not in my debt!" He snapped. "I just saved your life and brought you back here to a practiced doctor to examine and be sure you weren't brain dead! All while your own daddy probably had no idea where you even were. So, I'm going to get something out of you one way or another!"

My teeth clenched behind my pursed lips in fury. "I'm already paying you with something increda-fucking-ble (as you put) when you come back in a few days. I don't care what you say, I don't owe you anything for this!"

"Don't get your fucking panties in a twist, girlie!" He shouted at me. "I'm not asking for the moon here—nothing you can't give me right now! So, stop having a fucking tantrum!"

I went silent.

I wasn't going to play this game with him and I wouldn't start by asking what he wanted. Asking would be admitting I needed to thank him, and I would never do that. He seemed to be waiting for just that though, but was waiting in vain. Finally, he looked to the side thoughtfully, as a new thought entered his mind.

"I didn't see you in the last school program your town held. Why might that be?"

"I'm not allowed in school programs anymore."

"And why again is that?"

My face burned with the memory he had been present for and I fiercely wanted to cuss him out for bringing such a humiliating fiasco up.

"My singing voice shatters windows and the teacher dislikes my face." I improvised sarcastically.

He laughed, "No that's not it. I know better. Why was it again? Oh, I remember; didn't you get into a fight with the main character right on stage?"

"Hey, now she started that!" I snapped immediately. As relieved as I was not to take part in those demeaning performances, it irritated me to no end how people associated that incident as my fault when Lizzie was the one to open her mouth and throw out insults in the first place.

He chuckled at the thought and the sound of it made me want to throw something at him. "Of course, she did. I'm not arguing that. I was there after all. But I gotta say, I was a little disappointed you didn't finish that adorable little song you were singing."

"I forgot the words." I huffed, crossing my arms indignantly. "I do that with dumb songs."

"Of course, but even so… I think I'd like to hear something from you. So… sing me a song."

I looked back at him, embarrassment flaring across my face once again.

"I don't like singing… around other people." I complained. "It feels weird and stupid. I'm not a canary here!"

"For the moment, you're my fucking canary. It doesn't have to be that stupid song, if that's what you're concerned about. Just a song. So, get to it."

I looked at him in challenge. "So, what? You're going to throw a hissy-fit 'cause I decide not to give you Beethoven's fifth?"

"Maybe you'd like to see what I could do to your town when we get back there if you continue to test the boundaries of my patience. I've been tolerant enough with you and all you've done in return is act like an ungrateful little shit. I think a song is the least I'm owed. Like I said before, it's not the moon and it's not coming out of your hide." Then his eyes narrowed and he suddenly looked three times as dangerous. "Sing me a fucking song, brat."

My mouth snapped shut as my heart hammered. So, that's how it was going to be then? I couldn't think of any songs to sing, or at least nothing that would be appropriate and most I couldn't remember all the lyrics to. It was all mostly Disney songs, American Patriot songs and Spice Girls. If I was going to be forced to be his songbird I was going to make him regret it.

But what song did I know that would do that? My mind worked for a good one.

Just then John popped up in my head; my friend from so long ago. When he lived at the cottage he'd often sing out absently. He was a good singer and his voice was rich and poetic. He often hummed ballads or old folk songs from out of nowhere, some of which he got from books and novels, adding whatever tune sounded best to them. One in particular had always entranced me. He had pulled it from a series of novels about knights and thrones and the sound of it still echoed in my head when my thoughts turned towards my old friend.

It was a song that seemed to me to speak of defiance and that was the song I wanted. My mouth opened and the echo of the somber tune filled the room.

"And who are you"
the proud lord said,
"That I must bow so low?"

"Only a cat of a different coat,
That's all the truth I know

In a coat of gold
Or a coat of red
A lion still has claws

And mine are long and sharp, my lord
As long and sharp as yours!"

And so he spoke,
and so he spoke
That lord of Castemere

And now the rains weep o'er his halls
With no one there to hear

Yes, now the rains weep o'er his halls
With not a soul to hear!"

Negan looked at me as the last of the tune faded with the last word. It didn't look like he was very pleased with my song selection, that or my musical talent was worse than I had predicted. Well I don't take requests and he just said "a song". If he didn't like it, he should be more specific with his word choice.

"Pretty…" he muttered, with suppressed annoyance. "Let's get you the fuck back to Alexandria before I really do something I'll regret, like wring your insubordinate neck. I don't think I can stand you here a fucking moment longer."

"Well that makes two of us then." I said following behind him.

Once outside, I looked around to find myself observing the remains of what looked to be an old radio tower. Something seemed to tell me that this was not in fact the fabled "Sanctuary" these people gathered at. There were fewer people than should have been expected and there was no seen fence or storage unit to keep all the shit they'd been gathering from us for years.

"This isn't your real base." It wasn't a question but a statement.

"I'm not taking you there just yet." Negan said flatly. "I don't think I could count on you to keep it secret."

He was smart to believe that. If my dad didn't already know where it was you could bet I'd tell him. Maybe he didn't want to fight these monsters now, but someday that might change and then he'd need all the information he could get.

Still, least I knew where this outpost was. I had been sure to remember as much as I could, including where the armory looked to be. Even with a healing concussion and as dizzy as I was, I still remembered to take as many mental notes as I could. When I got home I would need to draw a good map of what I remembered.

I staggered over my feet as a sudden wave of mental pain nearly blinded me completely, causing me to bump into a stack of crates. I'd come to the conclusion that concussions were awful and my semblance of stability tilted more and more even while I tried to steady myself.

"You gunna be able to walk on your own?" Negan said in concern.

"Yes." I stated immediately. Walk it off. I just had to walk it off. "I can find my way back if you point me in the right direction."

The words seemed to jar him just then, as if the idea was completely barbaric. "Fuck, you think I'm just going to give you a knife and a book of matches and just let you find your way back home on your own?"

I looked up at him. "No. I don't expect a knife or matches."

"I don't doubt your skills for survival, sweetheart. You're a fucking badass, there's no denying that by now, but you don't have your typical layer of armor today and you'll have to walk through at least twenty miles of biter-infested woods before you make it back to your home town, sugar."

"I'll walk fast."

That was easier said than done, though, especially when I didn't realize I was barefooted until something stabbed me in the foot.

I gasped sharply when the glass cut into me, holding my bleeding foot up and leaning against the wall of the building to try and bite back several strings of curses.

"Ah shit!" Negan said, realized what had just happened when he saw the blood dripping from the sole of my foot. "Who the fuck left glass everywhere?!" He yelled to his men. He wasn't really looking for an answer as he turned back to me. "You alright, Judy? Fuck, sorry about that."

I ignored him, silently pulling out the glass on my own, cringing with the combination of pain and the sight of the drippy red mess. It hurt so freaking much, but I refused to cry in Negan's presence. I could do that on my own time, but not in front of him—no freaking way!

"Guess I forgot you didn't have shoes on."

I resisted an enormous urge to snap at him for that. I only wore shorts and a small t-shirt so how could he possibly not notice I didn't have my usual cowgirl boots? From what I knew about him, the jackass most likely planted that glass there so I'd have to walk all over it. I wasn't going to believe for one second that it'd been an accident.

"Where are my boots?" I asked trying to distract myself from the pain.

"You didn't have any when we got you outta that place."

My teeth clenched in frustration. "Of course not." Boots my size were hard to come by and I had really liked those ones. I couldn't do my work in flip-flops! Just one more thing I now had to replace again.

Way before I could protest, Negan had picked me up and carried me, to my immediate horror.

Instinctively I kicked out, feeling worse in his arms than I did when the glass speared me. "ACK! NO! Keep your grubby hands to yourself!"

"Stop that, or I'll kick you back!" He commanded, for which I reluctantly went still. "Now before you start complaining again and making a big fucking fuss, let me ask you if you want to cut up your last good foot, because there's plenty of glass around to do just that?"

I was so angry about the treatment, mostly because he read my mind at once. The moment I realized what he was doing, I freaked and tried to shove out of his arms but with his threat and the promise that I would cut up my remaining foot otherwise, I went still. It sucked and I was once again put on the spot for another instant of total humiliation dealt by him.

If my hate were fire, Negan would have been cold ashes by now.

He carried me up to one of his many trucks and pulled the door opened to set me inside. I wanted to scoot as far from him as I could but he circled around and got in on the other side while a different man took up the driver's seat and started up the engine.

I had to sit there in the middle, wedged between both of these hated men as we drove down the road towards my home. The ride was unbearably long but thankfully Negan nor the other man felt it necessary to fill the silence with conversation. I didn't want to talk or listen to either if I could stand it. So, we sat there in silence, merely watching as the landscape changed before gradually becoming familiar.

"You can stop right here." I told the driver, once we'd reached the interception a half mile away from the gates. "I can walk the rest of the way."

"Are you telling my man what to do, Judy?" Negan said threateningly. "Because it sounded as if you were trying to give orders right there."

"I was suggesting that I can walk the rest of the way so you don't have to waste precious gas on a trip just to drag my sorry little ass back home."

"Someone sounds embarrassed to be getting dropped off at school with the teacher." He said smugly.

When we got to the gates they honked once and were immediately admitted inside. I saw Dad a ways off, looking frantic while deep in conversation with Michonne and Aaron. His attention turned at the sight of the trucks and he must not have seen me through the glare cast on the windshield glass because I could visibly see him pinch the bridge of his nose in a gesture that obviously stated he did not was to deal with whatever Savior crap was directed to him right now.

Negan's smirk was back as he got out, greeting my dad with his typical cocky assholery.

"Nice to see you, Rick. Now you'll never guess what I've got for you today."

I saw his jaw clench. It was just as humiliating for us to receive anything from these people as it was to provide them with resources because it implied we could possibly need them. I moved out on my own, refusing any held offered to me, because I wasn't going to let my dad see me being supported by these people. It was bad enough they were bringing me back that I wouldn't accept help getting out of a truck.

"Judith!" He said in shock, staring in horror at the state I was in. Dad looked ready to run up and embrace me but I took a shaky hop back on my only good foot, indicating I did not want to be held at that moment by him.

Defiant and strong; that's what I needed to be around these people.

"I'm fine," I answered before he could ask what had happened.

Something seemed to flash in his eye just then and he turned on Negan, grabbing him from around his collar and slamming him against his truck. The move took everyone by surprise and every Savior surrounding had their guns instantly pointed at Dad.

"What the fuck did you do to her?!" He hissed, looking bloody prepared to tear Negan's head off. It had been so long since I'd seen him ready for a good fight that I couldn't move for a moment, transfixed by the fire stoked in his eyes. At that moment, I almost wanted him to do it—to kill the bastard once and for all, consequences be damned. "Why the fuck do you have my little girl bandaged and bloody in your truck, you motherfucker? Did you fucking lay a hand on her?"

As much as it detested me, I knew I needed to step in. Letting my dad kill their leader when his men were perfectly ready to fill him with lead would not have been the smartest strategy.

"It wasn't him." I growled reluctantly. His eyes turned to me but his grip on the other man did not loosen, even when I continued. "Someone set up a snare outside the walls and I sprung it. They knocked me out and brought me back to their base. The Saviors were attacking it when they found me there."

I was very careful not to use any terms indicating that the trap had been meant specifically for me nor had the Saviors intentionally rescued me.

Right out of nowhere Negan seemed to find his opportunity to escape from Dad's hold and rammed his fist hard into his gut, taking him entirely off guard and winding him. I'd say this for Negan, he was bigger than my dad by quite a significant amount and he knew how to use the muscle he had. Right now, he was using it in all its capacity to bring my father to kneel.

I screamed when Negan rammed his fist repeatedly into his stomach, winding him the first time, making him vomit the second time, and completely incapacitating him the third time. To add salt to the wound his fist slammed hard into his face and threw him to the ground, dazed and bleeding badly from his mouth.

I limped on my only good foot over to him, trying to help him up. As I tried to pull him into a sitting position at the very least, Negan spoke again, looking down at both of us with distain. The look he gave me while he looked down on us sent a shiver down my back. I would never forget that look.

"We only came here to drop little miss Judy off so she wouldn't have to walk through miles of biter-infested woods even if she was super into it. I had better hear a fucking thank you, Rick! I only saved your precious daughter's ungrateful hide and you have the gall to say we don't do anything deserving of your shit! How 'bout just protect you assholes from the savages out there. The next time I think I'll just let them invade and kill all of you fuckers one by one!"

I had a few choice things to say about that but wisely chose to keep my mouth shut, as had the crowd that had formed with the Saviors' arrival.

Negan adjusted his gloves and turned to go. "We'll be back in five days just like I promised and like I promised you had better get me something really fucking incredible, Judy Bloom, or you'll be saying goodbye to a few citizens."

At his command, the Saviors loaded back into the single truck and drove away, leaving just to return in five days. My heart hammered and I could feel the weight of the deadline. If I didn't hurry the fuck up and find something soon, Negan was going to take the Waifs. The possibility nearly crushed me with terror right then and there.

For the moment though, I needed to concentrate on more dire, immediate things.

So instead, I concentrated on my dad. He was the one that needed me most at that moment. I poured all my focus into him and helped get him on his feet. Michonne was there in a flash though, and took his weight from me while someone else tried to attend to my own infirmity instead.

Mari was at my side from out of nowhere looking me over in horror as she gauged the state I was in. Normally she and her sister and brother tried to be nowhere in sight during visits from the Saviors, and Eric, Aaron, and I all encouraged them to keep it up. However, it looked as though she had emerged from their regular hiding spot to see how the few days absent from home had left me.

Her terrified gold-amber eyes made a deep guilty feeling creep into my gut as she took in my swollen face, bandaged head, bruised limbs, and bleeding foot. She looked just as pretty as she did every day and knowing that she was worried like that over me sent strange spikes of energy into my chest.

"What happen?" She asked, in that beautiful accent of hers. "You are hurt."

"I had a bit of a run-in with some wild men." I answered quickly, "It just looks worse than it really is. I'm alright… mostly. Really I am."

Without another word, she dodged under my arm and helped me hobble to the infirmary just a few paces behind Dad and Michonne.

Author's notes: Yep! I used Rains of Castamere from a Game of Thrones as the song Judith sings for Negan. I'm a die-hard GOT fan, though I haven't read the books (shocker) I know the lyrics are in a Storm of Swords, which was published August 8, 2000, many years before the television series for both Game of Thrones and the Walking Dead came out. I imagine the tune of the song would probably be a little different in that instance but still.

And I want to make it perfectly clear that Judith has NOT read any of those books! Even if she profoundly denies it, she is still a little girl and reads novels that little girls would read. George R. R. Martin is not an author whose writing she pours over!

The scene and this chapter was definitely influenced by Carl's visit to the Sanctuary and I know I kind of stole that scene from him, but since Judith stopped him from trying to kill Negan those many years ago the instance sort of never took place with him. Plus, I always intended to try and work in a rescue scene with Negan and Judith to demonstrate just how an experience would affect both of them and the two scenes just sort of merged with one another.

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