Maggie Green's faith had been tested again and again, with each new instance worse than the last. First at the Prison, after the home they had built up and worked so hard to secure was torn down from around them, and her father slaughtered in front of her, and now it was happening again, here in Alexandria; their security had been taken from them, their view of the world ripped out from beneath them - but that paled into significance at the loss of her sister.

Maggie had watched as Negan's men had grabbed her sister and forced her into the back of a van; she had screamed and screamed and screamed as the van drove away, but it had done nothing.

Those screams had turned to sobs once they were released from Negan's hold and returned home – the entirety of Alexandria was sombre, the loss of Abraham and their freedom heavy on all of their shoulders. Glenn had held her as they lay in their bed that night, neither of them speaking. Each of them knew what the other was thinking, how close they had both come to being the one beneath that bat. They held each other in the quiet of their room, no longer feeling safe or secure. Glenn had fallen asleep in time, but Maggie had struggled; she was too acutely aware of the room just across the hallway, the one in which her sister and Daryl should have been sleeping – and yet neither were.

She had gotten up and out of bed as the sun was beginning to rise, and quietly made her way into the room opposite; she found the small wooden frame in which Daryl had put the photo of Beth's first scan, and she had sat on the large white bed, holding the frame in her hands, as the tears spilled over; those tears had progressed to sobs, and that was how Glenn had found her, holding the frame to her face, her body wracked with sobs.

He held her as she cried, and she cried not just for her sister, but for Daryl, who had been taken away in another van once Negan decided he had tortured them enough, and for herself and Glen and everyone else in Alexandria who would now have a harder future to face every morning, and she cried for Rick.

Negan had focussed his attention on Rick once his initial performance was over; he had worn him down until Maggie had seen the defeat in his eyes.

She watched him now, his face pale, his eyes downturned as he opened the gates of their home to the man that had done it to him. He was a different man, a broken man, and he bowed down as the smiling devil in leather sauntered into their once sheltered home.

Negan walked down the main road of Alexandria slowly, taking in the sights, Lucille in his hand, and Maggie shuddered as she looked at it.

'You're early.' Rick said, and Maggie admired him for still attempting to stand up for them. 'You said a week.'

'Well, I guess I just missed you, Rick.' Negan grinned.

Maggie stood on the front porch of the house and watched as Negan wandered up the road, flanked by a good fifteen of his Saviours, all of whom were armed. The Alexandrians were not armed – Negan had seen to that. He had forcefully disarmed those he had cornered in the clearing, and the men he had sent to escort them back to Alexandria had raided their armoury too. They were completely vulnerable.

Or so Negan believed; a handgun burned in the back of Maggie's pants, itching to be touched, to be engaged, to be shot.

Michonne and Rosita had managed to hide it outside of the grounds – it and a few others. Maggie had gotten a hold of it – along with bullets. Bullets had been the biggest issue – they had been running dangerously low on those before Negan had come into the fray.

Maggie and Rosita had cornered Eugene and forced him to make them more. He had fought them, terrified of Negan and the repercussions, but the women were strong and intimidating – he had relented.

And now the gun in the back of Maggie's pants burned with the home-made bullet it held, calling softly out to her until her hands twitched at her sides.

'This where you live, Rick?' Negan grinned, pointing his bat at the house Maggie stood at.

'We live in these two, yeah.' Rick said grimly.

'Two houses? Woo-whee,' he grinned. 'What a life you lead, Rick! Which one you sleep in?'

Rick ground his teeth; Negan stepped closer, his face inches from Rick's.

'I asked you a question, asshole.'

Maggie watched Rick's jaw work.

'That one.' He said, gesturing to the house beside Maggie with his chin.

'So what's all this shit about?' Negan asked, kicking at one of the hubcaps that surrounded the house Maggie considered home. 'I would have thought this level of protection would only befit The King.'

Rick shuddered, clearly adverse to such a title.

'You just got some weird, paranoid fucks in this town?' Negan laughed. 'Unless there is something in this house worth protecting.'

'There was.' Maggie said, unable to help herself. She ignored the warning glare of her husband, the hushed 'Maggie' under his breath.

Negan looked at her, a smile frozen on his face. He kept his eyes on her as he stepped deliberately over the hung protection.

'Now. I recognise that face.' He drawled. 'I never forget a pretty face.'

Maggie clenched her jaw.

'Now what was in this house that was so important?' He asked.

Maggie could feel Glenn's eyes on her, could feel the plea he was silently wishing her way – be quiet. Don't rise to him.

'My sister.' She said.

Negan nodded slowly as he looked at her.

'You sister.' He said, the side of his mouth hitching up into another sickening smile. 'You mean Beth, right?'

Maggie stayed silent.

'I wouldn't have put the two of you together. Different Pa's?' He said. 'But don't you worry about her. She's doing fine. She's fitting in nicely, making friends. She's a fighter. She'll make a great saviour.'

Maggie took a breath in through her nose, not trusting herself to speak.

'Well, she's not here any more, is she?' Negan said, turning to face his men who still all stood around the road. He tapped the hubcaps with his bat. 'Take this shit down. Damn eyesore.'

Negan's men moved to the makeshift perimeter and began to pull up the stakes, leaving the hubcaps and cans to fall to the ground, tumbling around Negan's boots as they stood planted on the front lawn. Maggie's blood boiled as she watched, remembering the way Daryl had put them up for Beth – it had been his way of apologising to her, of showing her he was on board with the baby, and Negan was tearing that down. He had taken Beth and Daryl, torn them apart, and now he was removing any remnants of them.

Maggie felt her eyes sting.

Negan turned back to face Maggie as she stood on the porch, looking down at him, and her body moved of its own accord, to automatically block the door.

Negan raised his eyebrows.

'Are you saying you wont let me in?' He asked. 'Now that is just rude. But I suppose it is the sort of thing I would expect from the sister of a spitfire.' He laughed harshly, then he paused to rub his hand over the stubble of his chin. 'You know,' he said slowly, 'perhaps your sister would feel more at home if she had a familiar face.'

Maggie opened her mouth to retaliate, but instead Glenn spoke.

'No.' He said. 'Don't.'

Negan tore his eyes from Maggie to look to Glenn, who moved closer to his wife.

'No?' Negan asked.

Glenn swallowed.

'You've got Beth.' He said. 'You've got Daryl, man. Don't take Maggie.'

Negan looked at Glenn for a moment longer, then turned to take in Maggie's cold face, her set jaw, her steely eyes.

'Wow,' he whistled. 'You would pick a man over your own sister? You'd stay here instead of coming with me and making sure your sister is okay?'

Maggie knew he was being inflammatory, but his words still incensed her.

'You would make a great addition,' Negan said, leaning back to take her all in, his eyebrows raised as if he were innocently chatting to a friend. 'A great wife.'

'She is already a wife.' Glenn said.

'Now.' Negan said, not looking away from Maggie. 'But if there was nothing keeping her here – no husband – no legal ties – '

He swung his bat around in a circle, the wood whoosing through the air as it twirled, and gruesome images of said wood connecting fatally with Glenn's head burst into life before Maggie's eyes, and once again she moved before her brain caught up with her.

The shot echoed through the air, cracking across the hot Alexandrian morning like a whip.

Negan jumped, raising Lucille in front of his face.

Whether Maggie's aim was off or Negan was quicker than she thought, she wasn't sure, but Eugene's bullet missed its mark and lodged itself into Lucille.

The smoke cleared, both physical and proverbial, and Negan lowered the bat.

The space around them came to life as everyone registered what had happened; Maggie was grabbed, pulled down the stairs and thrown to the floor by one of Negan's men, whilst Glenn was similarly accosted.

'Shit!' Negan cried. 'What the shit! You – you tried to kill me! You shot Lucille!'

'She got in the way.' Maggie grunted from the ground, trying to twist her head to the side against the cool grass.

Negan turned Lucille around in front of him, and pulled out the bullet. He held it up in front of his eyes, moving it slightly in the sunlight.

'What is this?' He said, looking down again at Maggie. 'What is this?' He turned then to look at Rick, who's face had paled, his eyes wide and frightened as he looked from Maggie, to the bullet, to Negan. 'This little bad boy made from scratch?' Negan asked. 'This shit was homemade. You may be stupid, darlin', but you showed some real ingenuity.' He looked across at Maggie again, as she lay held down against the grass. 'Arat. Move that knife up over her face.' He said, and the woman holding Maggie down did as she was told; Maggie felt the cool surface of the knife close to her cheek. 'Lucile's beautiful, smooth surface is never going to look the same. So why should yours?' He shouted. 'Unless – ' He looked back around at the people watching, a mixture of frightened Alexandrians and furious Saviours. 'Unless you tell me who made this.'

Maggie swallowed; she couldn't see Eugene from the floor, but she could envision him – shaking, terrified, likely close to tears.

'It was me.' She said. 'I made it.'

Negan sighed.

'You see, now I just know you're lying.' He said. 'Such a shame. Now Arat's going to have to cut up that pretty face.'

Maggie took a deep breath as Arat pressed the knife closer so that the blade pressed minutely against her skin.

'One more try.' Negan said.

Maggie took a deep breath, and lifted her head, pressing her cheek into the blade. She drew in another breath as the blade cut into her skin and the warm blood drew to the surface.

Negan laughed.

'Ohhhh,' he chuckled. 'You are such a badass. Fine. Have it your way. Arat – kill someone.'

The woman holding Maggie down got to her feet, turned around, and aimed her gun – she let off a single shot, and fired straight into the head of Olivia. Olivia fell down almost instantly.

Maggie screwed her eyes shut, her heart pounding in her throat as people out there screamed.

'Enough!' Rick shouted, stepping forward. 'Enough! Negan. Your shit is at the gate. Everything we could find. Take it and leave.'

Negan nodded slowly.

'Alright.' He said. 'As soon as I find out who made this bullet.'

'It was me.' Maggie sobbed.

'No,' Eugene said, his voice shaking. He sniffed. 'It was me. It was only me.'

Negan stepped off of the lawn and over to Eugene, who was looking down at his own boots, visibly shaking.

He took a shaky breath as Negan stopped in front of him, inches from him.

'You?' He asked.

'It required one spent casing, one four holed turret reloader, powder, one funnel for the powder – ' Eugene stammered.

'Shut up.' Negan cut him off. 'I believe you.' He sighed, raising his bat to his face. 'Lucille, give me strength. Rick – I am going to be relieving you of your bullet-maker. That and whatever shit you've left me at your front gate. But I'm telling you, whatever it is, it wont be enough. You are in a serious hole after today.' He looked to his men and nodded. 'Alright.' He said. 'Let's roll out.'

He grabbed Eugene and pulled him along with him, ignoring the cries and shouts of those he left behind.

Maggie shakily got to her feet, tears in her eyes as she watched Eugene shuffled along, his hands limp at his sides.

Maggie Green no longer prayed.

The door that separated Beth from everyone else opened as someone knocked on it, and Beth turned to scowl at it; so they were just letting their-selves in now?

Her scowl faded as she saw Marie peering around the door.

'Hey, Beth.' She offered a tentative smile. 'How are you feeling?'

Beth shrugged.

Trapped? Angry? Fat?

'Fine.' She said.

'Did you want to take a walk?' Marie asked.

Beth's eyebrows rose.

She looked about her.

'What, of this room?' She asked.

Marie smiled at that.

'No.' She said. 'Around the grounds. Negan cleared it.'

Beth pursed her lips. No doubt this was part of Negan's attempt to indoctrinate her – allow her a little freedom, let her walk and talk among the working masses. It would humanise The Sanctuary, if she were to walk freely amongst it and the normal people who lived there, maybe make some attachments to the workers. No doubt Negan thought some attachment to his wives would help, too.

Come and see, it's not so bad!

Negan wasn't stupid. He knew what he was doing, he knew leaving her alone only left her to stew and harbour resentment towards those she felt apart from.

But her legs ached, as did her mind, and she longed for a chance to stretch them both.

So she agreed.

Marie took her from her room and out into the front courtyard, where the sun was beating down heavily.

Beth paused, tilting her head back so that her face felt the sun; it warmed her skin, calming her. With her eyes shut, she could feel the subtle caress of the early afternoon wind ghost across her features, barely lifting her hair. She took a deep breath, breathing down the cool air through her sore throat and in to her tired lungs. It was a welcome change to the same, recycled stale air of the small room.

It was strange, she thought, after so many years, how normal the smell of decay had become in the air. Beth tried not to focus on it, but it was there, lingering always beneath everything. With her eyes shut, she could hear them too, the origin of the stench, the walking dead.

She opened her eyes and looked across to the bodies pinned to the fence, some more intact than others. Some appeared to have been coated in metal, she noted, squinting at the way the sun bounced off of their bumpy, uneven armour.

Beyond them, those at the bottom of The Santuary's ladder worked to keep those free of the fence within bounds, and those out of the bounds away.

Beth watched as these workers either led the bodies around or warded them off with long sticks.

They moved beneath the beating sun, their skin darkened from exposure, their only protection their baggy beige uniforms, some spray painted with large red letters.

'Those workers…' Beth said slowly. 'They're not normal workers, are they?'

Marie looked out over the boundary border, only a light trace of a frown on her dark features.

'No.' She said. 'They're prisoners.'

Beth nodded slowly, watching as a man grappled with a particularly handsy walker.

Prison labour. It wasn't unheard of. Even before the fall institutions had used those incarcerated for labour – the prison she had once called home had had work shops with various machinery, and she was under no illusions that those had not been used by the prisoners to produce cheap labour.

She hadn't known enough about the prison systems when the world had still been standing to have a strong moral opinion about it, but she knew it was a way for those prisoners to earn money for their-selves. Money that would buy them extra food, or phone calls home. 'Are they part of the points system, too?' She asked Marie.

'Yeah.' Marie said. 'They're prisoners, but they still need to eat.'

Beth nodded.

'You don't have a points system at – where you come from, do you?' Marie asked Beth as they began to walk towards the ground doors.

'No,' Beth said.

'So it's a free for all?' Marie asked. 'Everyone just takes what they want?'

'We have pantry workers.' Beth said. 'They make a note of what we have and who takes what. It's a fair system. It works.'

Marie was nodding as they walked into the market hall. 'What about prisoners?' She asked. 'What's your system?' Beth glanced side ways at Marie, slightly perturbed by the amount of questions she was asking. She didn't strike her as sneaky, or as having an alternate agender, but Beth wasn't about to let her guard all the way down, either. And they didn't really have a system for prisoners, either. Not that that meant there were no bad eggs – she thought of Pete. Negan's use of prisoners for the grislier, dangerous jobs could be seen as morally inept, but Rick's way was no better. Rick hadn't been the one to put Pete down, but that didn't mean he wouldn't have. Anyone who threatened his family wasn't usually given much time to atone for it. Beth shrugged.

'You get on with us or you don't.' She said. Marie looked at her, but she didn't push it.

They exited the market hall and headed back outside; Beth recognised the path as one Negan had led her down before.

'The allotment is this way, isn't it?' She asked.

'Yeah.' Marie said. 'Negan showed you?'

Beth nodded.

'It's not much to write home about.' Marie said as they approached it.

'I remember.' Beth said. 'It's pretty small.'

'Well, this was a factory.' Marie said. 'Still is, I suppose. In terms of industrial machinery, The Sanctuary thrives. We've got work benches for all sorts – metal making, soldering – and our armoury is well stocked. Enough guns for each person, maybe more.' She looked at Beth as they came to a stop at the border of the garden. 'Or so I hear.' She said. 'Wives aren't allowed in the armoury – I've never seen it. The door is key-coded, the only room that is, I think, but none of us know the code. We might be higher than the workers, but in most aspects, we're on the same level.' She shrugged, and shot Beth a humourless smile. 'It's almost like Negan doesn't really trust us.'

Beth smiled at that. They were fed, watered, and given nicer quarters than the workers' downstairs, but it was a façade really. They weren't trusted, and they likely weren't respected.

Neither of those qualities were necessary for sex, Beth supposed.

'Anyway,' Marie said, kicking at the soil with the tip of her boot, 'we have a reservation of tins and cans, but fresh produce we are lacking. Soil isn't so good.'

'Mix the soil with compost.' Beth said. 'It will help retain water.'

Marie looked at her, and Beth thought she looked a little surprised. Although whether it was at Beth's gardening knowledge, or her offer or help to a place that was holding her captive, she wasn't sure.

'My daddy had a farm before all this,' she said, waving her arm out in general. 'And he was an avid gardener.'

'Yeah?' Marie smiled. 'Is your daddy one of the people back at your community?'

Beth shook her head.

'He died.' She said.

'Before this?' Marie asked gently.

Beth sighed.

'No.' She said. 'It was recent.'

'Oh, I'm sorry.' Marie said, pulling a face. 'I never thought I'd be glad for my parents' deaths, but I'm glad they went before all of this.'

Beth nodded; she was grateful for the time she had gotten with her father, and that he had known Daryl, but she understood what Marie meant.

'Did you have animals on your farm?' Marie asked, pulling Beth from her thoughts.

'Yeah.' Beth smiled. 'Sheep, cows, horses.'

'I had a horse when I was a girl.' Marie smiled a far away smile. 'We gave her up when I went to college. I was an only child and my mom couldn't ride.' She shrugged. 'It was a hard choice.'

'Did you never get another?' Beth asked as they began to walk away from the small allotment.

'No.' Marie said. 'But I rode sometimes, on holidays and stuff.'

Beth nodded; she too had loved to ride.

'I wish we had horses here.' Marie said. 'But Negan doesn't seem to think them necessary. As you've seen, we're a lot more industrial here.'

'Yeah.' Beth said. 'They would be good transport though. No petrol.'

'Mm.' Marie nodded. 'The Kingdom use them for that.'

Beth blinked.

'Who?' She frowned.

'The Kingdom.' Marie said slowly, her eyes searching Beth's face. Beth tried to remain passive. 'It's another community.'

Beth felt a strange flutter in her stomach, a sensation akin to vertigo as the world she thought she knew suddenly expanded.

'The Kingdom.' Beth said, testing it out on her tongue.

'It's run by a man who calls himself King Ezekiel.' Marie said.

'Is it big?' Beth asked, and she found she was almost whispering.

'I don't know.' Marie said, almost matching Beth's tone. 'But the goods we get from them are vast. Livestock, too.'

'So Ezekiel is under Negan, too.' Beth said, feeling the spark of hope she wasn't even aware had started to ignite falter.

'He is.' Marie glanced about quickly. 'But begrudgingly.'

Beth swallowed.

'He doesn't trust us wives, but he keeps us around. We're allowed most places. I think he underestimates what we're privy to, sometimes.'

Beth was nodding slowly. They continued their walk, back through the market place, both of them quiet.

'The workers,' Beth said quietly, looking around at the people in the room. 'They live down here?'

'Yeah.' Marie said. 'The sleeping quarters are just past here.'

'How many doors?' Beth asked.

Marie looked at her, but Beth kept her eyes on the room around her.

'Two.' Marie said.

Beth said no more on the subject as they walked, engaging instead in small talk. She had a lot to think about once she got back to her room.