To my dear guest reviewer: Don't worry, Carl ain't dying. Got too much planned out involving him to let him die.

KEZZ 1: Thank you for the review!

I know! Posting two days in a row?! What?! Well, the fact of the matter is that I've been writing this one at the same time as I did 104, specifically when my kids were watching their stuff downstairs. Since I have to watch the show for the canon, I figured I'd start writing the non-canon when I can't watch the show.

He'd watched Rick until he couldn't see him anymore, holding his poncho and pillow close and hoping they were going to Ania. Daryl didn't know how she was doing after their failed attempt at escape yesterday, and he'd been given the silent treatment by Dwight when he attempted to ask. When Rick asked if Daryl could stay, the man didn't know how to feel. A part of him was thankful for Rick thinking about him, but another part was angry, because Rick had to know there was no way Daryl was leaving the Sanctuary without Ania. The fact that so many people had gone missing from Alexandria along with the kittens and Maggie was dead because of his actions had him ready to break down all over again, but he refused. Steeling his heart, he simply looked out the back of the truck he'd been hauled into the entire ride back to Sanctuary.

The truck slowed as they got closer to the factory the Saviors called home. Daryl braced himself for whatever was going to happen next as he watched men unload from their vehicles. Dwight came around and yanked him down out of the truck which caused him to stumble and almost fall. Negan walked up as he straightened himself out, all but yanking his poncho and pillow out of Daryl's hands. All Daryl could do was stand there scowling at the man, knowing that if he tried to do anything, it was only going to make things worse for both him and Ania.

"You know, I think I'm gonna go have a little fun with little Ani. I just love our little chats," he said with a smirk, Daryl's eyes snapping up to him. "I can tell you, she is just adorable. And the way she moves. Hell, I can see why you're hung up on her."

"Stay the hell away from 'er!" Daryl growled out as he started to pull against Dwight.

"Careful," Negan told him with a smile. "Don't want her to pay for your mistakes, now do you?"

While Daryl kept a slight pull against Dwight's hold, Negan chuckled and walked away. Dwight began forcing Daryl back to his cell, although Daryl put up some resistance the entire way. He didn't know how long he was in it before the music started playing and Dwight opened the door to give him food. It was starting to upset him stomach, eating moldy bread and dog food, but at least it was food. He knew he needed his strength to get out and get Ania out and that was the only reason he kept eating the shit. Otherwise, he wouldn't blink an eye at starving to death. It would be better than being forced to give up who he was, both to himself and to Ania.

"You know he's spendin' an awful lot of time with your girl, right?" Dwight told Daryl. "Whatever you're fightin' for, whatever you think you still have left, it's gone, man. He's taken a liking to her. She already belongs to Negan."

"Ania would never."

"She's crackin' under the pressure. You never know what people will do when they crack."

"She ain't like that," Daryl told him, though there was a voice growing in the back of his head that had already been there; what if she was?

"You keep telling yourself that. Have a good night thinkin' about that. Start your new job tomorrow."

Daryl couldn't help but stare at the door after Dwight left. Ania was close to breaking, if what Dwight had said was the truth, and if she broke, what would that mean for them? Would she expect him to kneel? Would she leave him if he refused? Would she actually bend her knee to Negan when she'd sworn she'd only ever belong to him? He didn't think she would. He wanted to believe that she was strong enough to handle whatever was happening until they could get to each other. She'd been able to go through everything they had in Atlanta, so shouldn't this be easier? But she had him and Carol and the group then. Here, she was alone and didn't even know how he was holding up. He didn't know when he'd passed out from exhaustion, unable to actually fall asleep as thoughts tormented his mind.

When the music began again in the morning, he practically growled in frustration while clapping his hands over his ears, just wanting to stop hearing this damn song. The door opened only for Dwight to pull him out of the cell again, leading him down and out to the courtyard and handed him off to a rather rough looking woman with a military grade automatic in her hands. She had him and another person working the fence, replacing decayed and fallen apart walkers with fresh ones while also buffering the courtyard with more walkers. It was a daunting task that had him on constant alert until a white box truck pulled through. Gunfire rang out, prompting him to pause as he watched Carl of all people coming out of the back of the truck with a gun in his hand demanding Negan. When Dwight tackled the boy, it was all Daryl could do to stay where he was as he watched on in concern. He didn't move from his spot even as Negan spoke to him, watching the boy on the ground, until the walker he was supposed to be helping place damn near grabbed a hold of him.

Daryl had to duck out of the way and push another walker back before he was relatively safe from harm again. He moved back to the fence, Negan asking him if he liked his job, but making no move to move away from Carl. It wasn't until the boy finally grabbed his hand and the man gave out any orders that Daryl finally had to take his eyes off Carl. Dwight pulled him from behind the fence and down to through the market. He was being treated like a damn slave now, forced to carry a tray of various fruits, vegetables, meats, and cheeses up to where Negan kept his wives.

Staring at Carl as he entered the room, he made sure the boy was as fine as he could be behind enemy lines. His mind was racing with why Carl was here to begin with and if the boy had even thought to bring any back up. He hoped and prayed the boy hadn't been stupid enough to come half-cocked, guns blazing, in a suicide mission to kill Negan. Even if he did kill the man, one of the other soldiers would just take his place and things could go from ugly to down right horrific quick. Daryl was already on edge with Ania being in that damn red room; now he had to worry about Carl being there too. He only hoped that the fact that Carl was at the Sanctuary would be kept from Ania. If she knew, she might really bend the knee just to keep the boy safe.

Negan sauntered over and grabbed a toothpick off the tray and stuck an olive and ate it while staring at Daryl, who hadn't had anything decent to eat in the four days he'd been here, before saying, "Carl, will you grab this tray for me?"

Daryl turned to Carl, watching as he set a bottle of beer on the ground and becoming irate after the boy took the tray from him. "Why you got him here?"

"Whoa!" Negan said with a scowl. "What we talk about when you're not here...is none of your business," he told him before looking back at Sherry with a smile. "Do not make me put this toothpick through the only eye he has. You go with Dwight. He'll get you a mop. Dwighty-boy, why don't you fire up that furnace? Time for a little deja vu. Come on, kid."

Daryl bit his cheek as he watched the man tap Dwight's arm, removing his hold on Daryl's shirt and walked out of the room between them. Carl followed behind, still carrying the tray, moving between Daryl and Dwight himself as Daryl followed him with his eyes. He turned back to Sherry, who just stood resolute, staring at the door Negan and Carl had exited the room from. When Dwight went to grab his shirt again, Daryl tried to cut him off, trying to get some sort of cue from Sherry that Negan wasn't going to harm Carl. The only thing she did, though, was look away as he was dragged down a corridor, running into Tom and Ellie who were wearing twin expressions of joy.

Daryl's grimace was firmly set in place as they walked up to the pair. Unlike the sharply dressed man he'd been in Alexandria, Tom was now wearing blue jeans, a loose shirt, and a denim jacket while Ellie had traded her leggings and dress for skinny jeans and a tight-fitted t-shirt underneath a plaid button up. They looked completely different from how they had back then, almost as if they'd simply dropped the act of being up-town folks to being what they really were- trailer park trash with a sick and twisted mentality. Daryl was trying to fight against Dwight's hold as the pair gave him a once over before Ellie smiled victoriously.

"We heard we get to finally get our daughter back today," Tom told him with a smile. "I finally get to correct that little mistake of yours." He leaned in close to Daryl's ear and whispered, "And I'm not just talking about the baby. That abomination will be the first to go. After that, well, it'll be slow. If she thought we were hard on her then, she has no clue as to what we really can do. I'll start by taking off her skin, inch by slow, agonizing, painful inch. She should've never been born. Now she's going to suffer."

Daryl managed to get out of Dwight's hold long enough to try to grab Tom and punch him again, but the feel of his own crossbow right against his head stopped him in his tracks as the couple laughed and walked away. "I won't hesitate. I told you, she belongs to Negan. He's taken a shine to her. And he'll do what he wants with her."

"They can't have her!"

"Well, that's not up to you, now is it?" Dwight said, grabbing hold of his shirt again. "Move."

They ended up on the factory floor where the market was, except that the market area had been relatively cleaned out. Instead, everyone stood around as a man was brought in and tied to a chair. Tom and Ellie sauntered in as Dwight lit the furnace and told one of the other men to bring a mop to Daryl. Warning the man that if he moved, what was about to happen would happen to Ani, Dwight went back over to the furnace and carefully put something in it. Daryl couldn't quite tell what because his attention was drawn to the crowd and the fact that Sherry was coming in with the doctor. About ten minutes later, banging grabbed the attention of everyone on the floor, Daryl freezing in any movement as his eyes caught sight of the color of amber. Negan was leading both Carl and Ani behind him down a flight of stairs and into the fray of people. He was tensed as Tom and Ellie both walked up to Negan, only for Negan to motion them to stop.

"I said you could see her. Wait your turn," Negan told them, turning back to a stony-faced Ania before looking right at Daryl and smiling. "See, safe and sound, Ani."

"Yeah," was all she said, though her eyes turned to Daryl.

She was wearing his poncho and her skinny jeans and boots, a pair of finger-less, leather riding gloves gracing her hands. The breath of relief that escaped him at seeing her was quickly cut short as he noticed several small scratches to her face as well as a couple butterfly stitches above her eyebrow and another by her lip. Someone had harmed her, and as his eyes tried to question hers, all she could was look down with a slight shake of her head before looking over to Carl. Whatever was about to happen, it was happening because Carl had decided to show up. And from the look on her face, it wasn't going to be good for her.

~x~

Ani sat in her room thinking about the dream she'd had last night. It'd been horrific; a vision of the past brought into the present. Her parents had been standing over Daryl's bloody body, all the lines and scars on hers now placed on his as he bled out. Negan had been overshadowing it all with a grim but smiling expression while Laura and Regina had her on her knees with her arms held back and out, cutting off her attempt to help. She'd watched as Tom and Ellie carved and carved at him until he was practically indistinguishable from who he once had been, taking off his ears and scalping him before placing his scalp on her head and tying his ears around her neck. She'd bolted out of bed, scaring Regina who had been sleeping in a chair, and over to the sink, throwing up until all she could do was dry heave.

"Damn," Regina said as she walked over with a glass of cold water she poured from the fridge. "Haven't seen someone move that fast since TV went down."

"Nightmare."

"Yeah, they can happen when you're pregnant."

"Ya got kids?"

"Hell no! I don't want 'em either. Too much work, too much noise, and I'm too damn old."

"Ya don' look that old," Ani said taking the water with a small thanks and heading back to sit on her bed.

"Well, you're just a sweet talker, aren't you?"

"Nah, I'm serious. Ya look like ya might only be in ya thirties like Daryl. Maybe a little olda."

Regina straight up laughed at that, "Hunny, I'm forty-five. I'm too fucking old to bother having kids."

"Damn, neva would a guessed that. Ya don' look it," Ani said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Got the time?"

"Early."

"Gee, can ya be more specific?"

Sighing heavily, Regina looked at the clock on the wall and said, "You really can't tell for yourself?"

"Uh...Pregnancy brain?" Ani offered, both shoulders going up in a prolonged hug as she read that it was half past six. "Ya call this early?"

"You don't?"

"Hell nah! Ta hunt, ya gotta be up 'fore the light scares the crittas inta hidin'. Dusk and dawn are the prime huntin' times. Generally, the best game ya can get is active at night. So ya go huntin' at night, in the early morn 'fore the sun comes up and the late night afta the sun goes down. If ya really wantin' ta get somethin', stayin' out ova night is the best. So no, I call this late."

"A simple no would have sufficed."

"And?"

"You like to talk, don't you?"

"When ya keep askin' me questions like that, ya gotta know I'm gonna talk. I don' normally do a ton a talkin' without bein' talked ta. But ya ask me questions, I'm gonna explain meself and say what's on me mind. Same happens if I'm tryin' ta defend meself or me family or see injustice against those who can' stand up for 'emselves."

"That poncho looks ridiculous."

"Yeah," Ani laughed, "it is pretty ugly, ain' it? But it's Daryl's. Ya think Negan will let me see him? Or talk ta him?"

"Sure, if you get on board already and stop beating around the bush."

"I can', Regina. I won'."

"You keep telling yourself that, but you wanna know what I think?" the woman said, leaning against the trunk at the foot of the bed and attempting to stare Ani down. "I think you're weak. I think you're scared. I think you're just putting up a front. Otherwise why am I sleeping in a damn chair instead of my bed? It's because there's not a damn thing that you can do except talk big and make assumptions. Sure, you might have the brains, might have the fancy degrees, but you ain't shit."

Ani couldn't help but laugh at her, wiping a tear from her eye as she calmed down, "Last person who told me I was weak ended up dead at me hands. First person who thought I was weak is dead at me hands too."

"Do I even want to know?"

"Chrystal Abigail Parker. Me sista. Well, maybe the third. Numba one and two prolly would be me parents."

"Yeah, I've seen your scars. You don't gotta keep going on about them."

Ani didn't answer, just nodded and laid back down. A knock on the door woke her from her dozing state before Laura entered the room with a tray of food. The smell of oatmeal had Ani tearing up, remembering every time Denny would come over first thing in the morning with a few cups of the stuff for her house. When it was placed in front of her, her stomach soured before she handed just the oatmeal back to Laura.

"I can' eat that."

"You need it. It's good for the baby."

"I can', Laura. Mornin' Denny died, she brought me oatmeal. I see that shite, I see her with a bolt through the eye."

"Yeah, that would sour any food," Laura said, handing the bowl to Regina who happily ate it up. "Still, got you some fruit, some more squirrel, that glass of milk you've been talking about."

"Don't you ever get sick of squirrel? You've had it damn near every meal," Regina pointed out.

"Sure I will at some point. Right now, I think it's Little D that wants it more'n me. Like, honestly, I'm sick a eatin' it how ya make it 'ere. It's always made the same way. Like, ya could make it inta frittas, fry it, stew it, yet somehow it's always this," she said, holding up the charred squirrel. "Damn, I miss Daryl's cookin'."

"Daryl cooks?" Laura asked, perplexion staining her face.

"Ya'd be surprised," Ani told her with a wistful look on her face. "He'd cook dinna a couple times a week, I'd cook a few, then Merle or Phia would cook once a week. The otha meal we ate with the rest a our group and a few othas that became close. He'd clean, too, though neitha a us are the most clean a people. We end up cluttarin' up one place, clean it only ta clutta up anotha," she laughed, both the other women unable to help the small smiles on their faces as she recalled her home life with her husband. "He was always lettin' me fall asleep on 'im and then carryin' me ta bed. Lettin' me be clingy when I need ta. Always carin' for me and takin' care a me. He'd wash me hair, too. Damn near every time we showa'd, he wanted ta be the one ta wash me hair. Started when I got me scar 'cause I couldn' really see where I was washin' at first and didn' wanna get soap on it or nothin' like that. So he helped me and it jus' stuck. I think yestaday was the first time I've washed me own hair since I got me scar, ta be honest."

"Damn. Didn't think love like that existed," Laura told her.

Regina simply shrugged a shoulder and said, "Sounds too good to be true. Definitely won't last."

"Why ya think that?" Ani asked, thoroughly confused.

"'Casue it won't. Things like that, they don't make it. When shit hits the fan, your man will go running for the hills."

"He didn'. When it hit the fan, he didn'. He chased me down when I ran. And then 'e waited for me ta get outta me head, hurt 'imself doin' it. Is that what happened ta ya? Did ya have a guy that ran away?"

Regina gave her a hard look before turning to Laura, "Watch Shrimpy for a few while I go take a leak and have a smoke."

"Oi! I ain' a shrimp! I'm only one inch shorta than average!" Ani cried out as the woman headed to the door.

"Whatever."

Ani looked over to Laura who just shrugged her shoulders as the woman slammed the door as she left, "She doesn't talk much about herself. You wanna wash up after you eat?"

"Didn' I take a showa yestaday? Why I need washin' up taday?"

"You talk about bugs running in close quarters, but you don't want to clean up?"

"Cleanin' too often can be jus' as bad as not cleanin'. And it's the damn apocalypse! Why showa all the time?"

"Even with Daryl?"

"A couple times a week," Ani admitted. "And that's 'cause there are otha, funna things ta do than jus' showa," she said with a smirk.

"Jeez, and here I thought Negan was active with all his wives."

"Ick. I could neva be with more'n one person."

A knock on the door had Laura open it to reveal one of Tom and Ellie's friends, "What do you want?"

"Came to deliver this," he said, handing over an envelope. "For the kid, from her mom."

"What is it?"

"I don't know, I was just asked to give it over. Didn't want Tom to know about it, though, if that helps."

"Alright."

Laura closed the door on the man and turned to Ani, who was looking at the envelope with a raised eyebrow, "You want it?"

Ani scowled as she looked at the thing before sighing deeply and holding out her hand. When Laura handed over the envelope, Ani was shocked at the weight of it. Opening it, several pictures of people she'd never seen before resided in it, each one looking more similar to Ani than she'd ever seen anyone. The folded letter was written in her mother's super elegant handwriting. Ani could recognize it anywhere because she'd always been envious of it as her own handwriting had been compared to chicken-scratch and doctor script. She carefully flipped through the pictures, green fields expanding as far as could be seen in several while people wearing wool sweaters and plastered on smiles stood in front of an old stone wall. There were several generations, Ani recognizing her mother as one of the younger generation and one of only a few with the dark chocolate hair she'd passed to Chrystal. With a gasp, Ani realized her mother had given her the missing piece of her family, pictures from her home in Ireland. Ripping open the letter, Ani read it three times before she put it down.

"TMP,

There are some things you should probably know before what happens next happens. Why write all this in a letter? Because you're more like us than you'll ever admit. The same darkness within your father and I resides in you, and now you're pregnant. Ha! Good luck with parenthood. You certainly have no experience with how to love a child, let alone what it truly means to love. And if what I've finally learned after all this time is true, you won't have a choice but to do to your child what I did to you.

If there is one thing I regret in this life, it is ever giving birth to you. You ruined my life. You ruined my body. You were a mistake from the start, an accident we did not want, but knew we would be looked down on if we ever got rid of. We even considered giving you up for adoption, but your grandfather forbade it. Even so, the day you were born I can recall as if it was yesterday when I can't recall much of your sister's.

You put me through three days of pain before you finally came into this world, pulled out of me by the doctors after they cut me open. You were blue from your umbilical cord being wrapped around your neck and having such low iron levels that they immediately took you from me and put you in an incubator. You stayed in there for an entire week with an IV of iron stuck to your tiny foot. You barely weighed in at five pounds and while your dad was hopeful that you would die, I remember praying to anything that would listen not to take my child from me. I don't even know why I was praying; maybe it's because you reminded me of Sibil being so small at birth.

The day we brought you home, the entire family was waiting at our house, well, your father's. As you can see, our family in Ireland is much different. Where your father's family was expecting either a blonde or chocolate haired child as Chrystal had been, you came out with a full head of black hair. Your grandfather, having black hair himself, held you first after your father and I. He was the happiest about your birth because black hair was a Parker trait long before blonde hair took over as the norm. The black hair skipped generations typically, but your father, uncle, and aunt had yet to have a child with black hair. And yet, after less than a month, it all started falling out and in came that horrid red. That red hair of yours, that's the whole reason you were treated as you were by their family, perhaps even by me.

Perhaps if I had stayed in Ireland and birthed you there, you would not have suffered. But because of that damned red hair, I suffered. You see, your red hair was a reminder of your father's family's biggest shame which in turn led them to treating me, already considered the Irish heathen, to being just scum they could scrape from their shoes. The entire family shunned us and blamed me being Irish as the reason that they had to suffer the humiliation of remembering, and so I took it out on you. It was only natural, and it only continued as you grew older and became even more of a reminder to me of what I had lost.

You see, way back in the mid-sixteen hundreds, your father's family used indentured servants, many of which were Irish. While that has nothing to do with me or my family, it has everything to do with the shame of your father's. You see, the wife of the estate slept with an indentured servant, the help of all things, and became pregnant. Her husband, who had married into the family to keep the estate in the Parker name, did not even know of the infidelity until his grandchild was born with a full head of read hair and the woman admitted to her crimes. While she was killed on the spot, and rightfully, for her crimes against him, that child was the only child she had been able to conceive, and so he simply told him to have another child with his wife and only if the next child's hair was also red would he consider the grandchild his. Much like what happened with you, the second child, and then the third, and then the fourth, all had dark hair with no trace of red and the first child was 'sent away to receive education.' In truth, the child was killed to hide the shame of the fact that they were actually related to a servant rather than the patriarch.

Every time a child with red hair was born, it was a reminder of that infidelity, of the fact that the Parker Estate did not actually belong to the patriarch, but some bastard child that managed to get lucky in his status. You see, those with red hair have to have parents who both carry the gene. Your father never would have carried it if it hadn't been for that unfaithful woman. Every red headed child was sent away in a similar fashion to the first. Every single one, except you. Your father was already trying to run for a position with the local government and sending a child away would have made him look bad. It would have looked even worse if you suddenly were found dead as you grew out of the chance of SIDS. So we kept you and raised you.

You were an oddly quiet child. You didn't cry, even when you fell down. That first mark on your back, where your sister cut you, she was just trying to make you cry. And yet you didn't. The unnatural way you would just stare, even as a baby, was unnerving and made your father hate you even more. I knew the truth, though. You were the same as your older brother as a babe. And I knew you'd be just as different, just as strange, and probably just as difficult to get a read on. I never expected you to be a genius who was capable of achieving so much so young. I never expected you to be just like my baby boy.

Look through the pictures. In each one, you will see a child standing next to me or in my arms that is neither smiling nor looking directly at the camera. That is Sibil, my baby boy and the light of my life. He was never diagnosed autistic, unlike you, but he was. I could see that in you. And his quirks made me hate yours. The same incessant need to be right as he got older. The same incessant need to point out what could make something better. Constantly having to be moving. Constantly staring at those around you as if you were knew what they were going to do. Being able to learn everything just by watching or reading about it. Learning faster than everyone else and making even adults question themselves. Everything about you reminded me of him, right down to your hair color and the exact same eyes, shape and color. Perhaps if you didn't. Perhaps if you had been more like Chrystal or even more like myself. Anyone but my boy. Perhaps then I would have shielded you, or simply turned my back on what was happening instead of joining in. But you had to be just like him.

As you can see, my family was quite large, with fifteen children in one generation from four children who came from your grandparents. We all lived on the same sheep farm close to a town and as such, it was rather easy to conceal the fact that I had fallen pregnant at the tender age of fourteen. We claimed he was the youngest child of my parents' rather than mine, but I was the one who raised him, the one who cared for him. The one who loved him with everything I had. His father was supposed to be my husband, but after I fell pregnant, my brothers beat him and his parents made him leave town in shame. They took the man I loved away, but I was left with the gift of your brother. And yet tragedy still struck.

He was killed by others in our town when he was only seven. Beat to death in front of our home after making the wrong comments to the wrong people on a simple errand into the town. It was the whole reason I left Ireland and came to America. You see, I loved that child with all my heart. Every single one of his quarks was brilliant in my mind right up until I found him dead. He was the light and joy of my world from the moment he was born right up until his death. And his death killed me inside. I wanted nothing to do with my family after what they'd said of him. I wanted nothing to do with Ireland because of what the others thought of him. I wanted to forget my roots and my family so that I could forget the pain losing him cost me. I left Ireland the day I buried him because my parents themselves said that it was probably for the best that he passed young, as he was ill suited to life outside our farm.

And then you. You reminded me so much of him, of them, of Ireland, that I hated you. I hated everything you represented. Every memory you sparked that rekindled that longing for my baby boy. Every instance that you reminded me of him. Every last little thing you did I absolutely loathed for forcing me to once again take care of someone who would inevitably die. And yet you didn't. You have survived everything thrown at you where he was killed. How did you survive?

I have been asking myself that since we left Alexandria. I've been thinking about how you survived where your brother, the one I loved more than life itself, failed. I've thought of so many answers to that question that I'm settling on the fact that your father and I treated you as we did as the answer. Had you been properly loved by family as Sibil had, as Chrystal was, assuming she is dead as well. Had you been properly cared for, you wouldn't have learned your lessons. You would never have been able to see so far ahead. Never have been able to learn how to survive. To defend yourself so well. You should be thankful for what you've been through, what we've done, because now you'll even survive me, I'm sure.

After all this time, I am finally content with what happened to my baby boy. And I owe that to you. You have shown me why my baby boy had to die and where I went wrong as a parent. It was wrong to be lenient on him for being different. Had I been harder on him, he would have lived as you did. Had I treated him as my parents had treated the rest of us, hard and heavy handed, he would have survived that night and your father and I would have never met. Now you are about to have a child. I hope that you do not have to learn the same lesson that I had to the hard way as I have.

You might not have been born, or you might have been born differently. I definitely would have loved you as a mother should, rather than when it was too late. Because I realize now that I do love you. I am happy you survived and so proud of the strong woman you have become. Continue making me proud. Continue to survive.

Sincerely,

Your mother,

Eilleen Ciara Parker

P.S. You don't have to worry about any of the Parkers coming after you. Congratulations, you've won the game. After today, you'll be the last. The rest wander the Estate in Michigan eating anything that moves.

Ani let the letter fall as anger fell onto her face. It all made sense now. She had been abused not because of anything she had done, not even because of a cycle of abuse that happened within the Parkers themselves. It was simply because everyone used her as an escape goat for what had happened in the past. Flipping through the pictures and looking specifically for her mother and the little boy in her arms, she could see the love that her mother held for the boy shining even through the old still frames. This could have been directed at her if her mother had simply looked at her as a blessing, maybe even her brother reincarnated. Hell, the boy in the picture looked exactly like she had when she was younger and wore her hair short. Her father could have loved her if his family would have realized that everything they had had, they had built upon themselves and that they had honestly been the owners of the Parker estate. If they had simply accepted that the Parker line came from a woman rather than a man, they could have seen her family too. Instead, she was the punching bag to make the past go away.

All the pain, all the anger. It roared to life inside her. All the times she had been hurt, it had because of the past, things she had no control over. And they had roped Chrystal into behaving the same way simply by not correcting her behavior. Everything, all of it, it had never been her fault. It wasn't that they couldn't love her, it was that they refused. It wasn't that they couldn't be nice or treat her fairly, it was simply that they had never wanted to. She'd had to outlive the entire family line according to her mother, only for her mother to finally tell her she was proud of her and loved her. And now that she had, Ani didn't know how to take it.

"You okay?" Laura asked.

"M'fine."

"Ani?"

Another knock on the door brought Ani's eyes up to the door, her face completely void as understanding hit her like a sack of bricks. Her mother loved her now that she was going to outlive her as it wasn't something her brother had done. She was proud of her simply because she had managed to survive everything. It would have made her scoff if, after everything her mother had done, everything she'd put Ani through in her younger years, she had heard it before even if it had been in jest. But she'd never once even come close to any of that. Not even to the neighbors had her mother said that she loved or was proud of Ani. It was always a vague response to questions that came up regarding being proud and a smile before moving on to the next topic. Ani's mind shut down as she put the pictures down and Laura opened the door.

"Well, look what we've got here," Negan said as he entered the room, turning around to look at someone behind him. "Come on, kid, get in here."

"Ani!" Carl said as he entered, going to give her a hug only for her to blankly look over at him.

"What's gotten into her?" Negan asked Laura, noticing right away how quiet she had become and the blank look in her eye.

"I don't know. Someone brought those in, though, one of Ellie's friends," Laura told him.

"You let one of those asshole's friends in here?!" he demanded.

"No, it was Tony. He's not exactly a bad guy just for hanging with them, and all it was was an envelope. I don't know why she's like that."

"Hey, kid. You seen her like this before?" Negan asked Carl, Ani turning her eyes straight towards the wall.

"Once, but it didn't last long."

"M'fine."

"Even I can tell that is one big load of shit that came out of your mouth," Negan said as he walked over, picking up the discarded letter and reading it. "Wow! So, she knows what's comin'. Good. For. Her. Shit, that is one long-winded way of sayin' she didn't deal with her shit."

"Why's 'e here?" Ani asked, a small gesture of the head towards Carl indicating who she was talking about.

"Would you believe this kid? He actually snuck onto one of my trucks and gunned down two of my men!"

"Stupid," was all Ani said.

"Yeah, I'll agree. Yet it brings me to why I'm here. And this," he said, holding the letter up, "this just cements it. Put these on," he told her as he tossed a pair of biking gloves to her. "Between the two of you, I've been pretty damn nice. Fifteen men from you, two from him. I mean, Daryl's payin' the price for his, but you? You've been sittin' pretty at the end of the world in my domain. Might've been able to until it was all over, but then Carl has to come by."

"What do I have-" Carl began, only for Negan to cut him off.

"Two men! Two men would still be alive. I've made you give me a little somethin' for that, but it ain't enough," Negan said menacingly. "Not nearly enough. So, our soon-to-be little orphan Ani! You're gonna pay for all of it. Everything he's done, everything you've done. You're gonna give me and my men a little entertainment. Oh, don't look at me like that," Negan said as he chuckled and Ani scowled. "You're an MMA fighter! Tom's just a thug and Ellie, well, she's a coward. I'll even go easy and have you fight just one. Shouldn't be a problem for you to take out Tom. Just do me a solid," he told her. "Make it slow. Or else I can't guarantee Carl will make it home in one piece. Might just make Daryl turn into a part of the landscape. I'm not sure what I'll do! I want to be entertained! I want to see what you can do! So put those gloves on and follow me."

Ani took one last look at her family from Ireland before standing up, removing the poncho and her shirt before putting the poncho back on and pulling on the gloves. She followed along automatically as Negan lead them through the factory. They walked through the building down to the upper levels of the factory floor. Ani could see Daryl standing with a mop next to a man who was tied to a chair. Her parents were in the room, too, her mother looking at her with a small, genuine smile and pride shining from her eyes while her father had the same predatory look she had gotten used to seeing growing up. The difference in her mother's reaction to her presence was frightening, and it only made the pit in Ani's stomach grow. Looking back over to Daryl, she saw his eyes on her in question. All she could do was shake her head and look to Carl, knowing that somehow they had to keep the boy safe and if fighting her father, killing him, helped do that, she would.

Negan banged Lucille on the metal piping as they walked along the upper bank, Ani watching as Daryl did what everyone else did. The only reason she knew he wasn't actually kneeling was because everyone else was facing Negan. Daryl was astutely facing the opposite direction, not bothering to look up at them anymore now that he was on his knees, although Ani didn't know if it was in shame or simply an extension of the figurative 'fuck you' Daryl was giving Negan. A small swell of pride for her husband expanded in her heart before the disgust and discomfort she was feeling returned. She was honestly fine killing her parents, but the fact that Negan wanted her to kill her father slowly in a fight had her stomach rolling.

"Hold that for me," Negan told Carl, handing over his bat. "You know the deal. What's about to happen is gonna be hard to watch. I don't wanna do it. I wish I could just ignore the rules and let it slide, but I can't! Why?"

"The rules keep us alive," the entire assembly, minus Daryl, said in unison as Negan led Ani and Carl down the flight of stairs that lead to the factory floor.

"That. Is. Right!" he said as he stopped on a platform halfway down. "We survive. We provide security to others. We bring civilization back to this world. We are the Saviors." When he said that, he could hear Ani's scoff behind him, looking back at her momentarily before turning back to his audience. "But we can't do that without rules. Rules are what make it all work! I know it's not easy. But there's always work. There is always a cost. Here, if you try to skirt it, if you try to cut that corner," Negan bellowed before pausing and chuckling. "... then it is the iron for you." After another short pause, he told them, "On your feet."

As he walked through the crowded floor, Tom and Ellie moved towards him, prompting him to scoff and tell them, ""I said you could see her. Wait your turn," Negan turned around to a stony-faced Ani before looking right at Daryl and smiling. "See, safe and sound, Ani."

"Yeah," Ani said as she stared at him and assessed how he was doing; if only he weren't as good at hiding emotions on his face as she was she might have known he was fairing almost as well mentally as she was, just above cracking.

"D..." Negan said as he walked behind the man in the chair, Ani and Carl standing roughly five feet from Daryl as he did so. Ani and Daryl's eyes locked on each other while Negan put on a glove and took a red hot iron from Dwight. "Mark...I'm sorry. But it is what it is," he drawled silently.

Ani stood stiff as Carl grabbed her hand as they watched what happened. She wasn't even sure what the man had done to deserve such a harsh punishment, but the smell of burning flesh had her swallowing repeatedly as she tried not to vomit. Negan had pressed that same red-hot iron onto the man's face that he'd taken from Dwight, holding it there even as the man screamed. She and Daryl shared a look before he looked at Carl and then away, his face just as grim as the boy's was when Ani and him glanced at each other. Ani had to turn her face away, retching in the process, when Negan finally pulled the iron away from the now unconscious man's face and skin pulled away with it. And Negan, for how much he'd said he didn't want to do it, for all that show about the rules, he just chuckled when it was all said and done.

"Ah, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" he asked no one in particular. "Jesus. He pissed himself." Turning to Daryl, he walked over and whispered in his ear, "Clean that up." As Daryl got to work after sharing one last look with Ani, Negan turned to an older gentleman in a white lab coat. "Doc, I'm all done here. Do your thing. Well, the pussy passed out," he told the assembly. "But it's settled—we're squared. It's cool. Let Mark's face be a daily reminder to him and to everyone else that the rules matter. I hope that we all learned something today because I don't ever...want to have to do that again. Now, me and Mark? We're square. But! There are another couple of shit stains that we need to get cleaned up! Ani!" he commanded. "Front and center."

Ani walked to the center of the cleared area near the furnace as Daryl stood still and watched her carefully. Her hands were in a fist in an attempt to keep how badly they were shaking concealed. Even though she knew what was coming next, she didn't know how she was supposed to feel about it until she looked up and saw the look in her father's eyes become almost manic. He was so sure he was being given his daughter back, rather than being offered up to Ani as an outlet. All the anger she felt from that letter. All the anger that she'd pushed down, the darkness her mother had written about that she knew was there, the fear and anguish from being locked in that damn basement room. She let it all fester and boil as her face turned darker and darker until she was primed and ready for the task at hand.

"Tom, Ellie, come over here," he said, motioning to two of the other soldiers by where they were standing who grabbed them by the arm, Tom protesting while Ellie simply was resigned to her fate, which made Negan's eyebrows raise just a little. "Well, aren't you pathetic pieces of human excrement?! The things you put this girl through and yet you have the audacity to lie to me," Negan chuckled as he put his hand on his chest. "Did you know? She knows martial arts! And I've just been dying to see this little thing in action."

With a motion of his hand, Tom was let go while Ani took off Daryl's poncho and tossed it to Carl, revealing that she was in nothing but her black comfort bra underneath it. Daryl didn't know why she was willing to take it off when she was just wearing that until she rolled her shoulders and got into a fighting stance. If he was right, it was her basic stance for when she was planning on only using Maui Thai, the deadliest martial arts she had in her arsenal. Her feet were shoulder width apart and firmly planted while her elbows were tucked in. Her chin was also tucked with her fists up at eye level. Her left side was facing front allowing for her more powerful right side to remain dominant and she was standing squared off with Tom.

Tom must have realized what the situation was as he began to plead with Negan, "What is this? I thought you said we would be getting her back, not having to fight her! I'm not fighting my daughter!"

"Really now?" Negan told him. "See, I saw your little video tape back in Alexandria. I saw the look on both your faces when you saw her the first time. I saw it when I told you she'd be getting what she deserves today. Hell, the letter your own wife wrote her laid it all out," Negan told him quietly as he walked up and stared the man down, Tom quickly looking back at Ellie who simply stood resolut. "Do not take me for a fool."

Tom barely had any time to try to protest when Negan had moved out of the way due to Ani's fist connected with his cheek. No one had expected her to move so fast if the expressions of shock on the faces behind Tom were to go on. She hadn't even bothered throwing her full weight into the punch. Negan had told her to make it slow or Carl and Daryl would suffer, so she made sure to keep a lock on her strength and how much force she put behind her blows. The man didn't go down, only stumble a couple steps away before looking up at her in shock and disbelief.

"You little bitch! You turn everything on its head! Everything good we had was taken because you were even born!" he roared, finally losing his composure as he realized he wasn't going to get out of this situation easily while Negan moved to stand next to Carl. "It's not enough that you're here and your sister's probably dead!"

"No prolly 'bout it, asshole," Ani said with a grin, her mind focusing solely on the rage and turmoil inside as her face became just as malicious as Tom's was. "I killed that bitch."

With a roar, Tom charged at her, only for Ani to catch him off guard by not moving. Instead, she shifted just a bit to perform a left jab to the side of his face, followed by a right elbow to the chest and a knee to the gut, using his own momentum against him before she stepped back. He went down to his knees, Ani knowing she could easily end it now, but Negan had said slow. Tom was bleeding from both his nose and his lip when he worked his way back to standing. Spitting blood out on the floor, he turned towards Ani who had immediately returned to her fighting stance. As soon as he was standing, though, Ani was ready with her next attack. He couldn't defend or block as she quickly connected her foot with his chest in a front kick before stepping up and performing two jabs to his face, still controlling her strength so that he would take damage without passing out. When he swung at her, she easily blocked it and brought him into a clinch hold, bringing her right knew hard up into his chest and causing him to gasp from breath. He managed to push her off of him, his height giving him the advantage to do so, but was unable to land any blows as she continued to dodge or block them only to return a jab or a knee.

Tom's face was a bloody mess as Negan stood watching, surprise etched on his face before he leaned over and asked Carl, "I thought she was stronger than this."

"She is," he defended as Ani attacked again. "She's controlling it."

"Controlling what?"

"How hard she's hitting him."

Ani didn't even know how long she had been beating her father, but Tom was completely unrecognizable. Several areas of his face were swollen, black and blue, and bleeding. One arm was hanging limp from a connected chop kick that had broken his clavicle. There were obvious bloody patches on his shirt from where her control had started waning and the anger and rage festered through. The knife he'd managed to get a hold of and take a swipe at her with at one point had long been forgotten on the floor from when she'd hit it out of his hand. All she had was a small scratch on her bicep from where the blade had made minor contact when she went to block the blow and what were probably bloody knuckles under the leather. With a final roundhouse kick that connected to his right shoulder, the man fell to the floor, though he was obviously still breathing.

She roared as she straddled him and started landing blow after blow to his face. Even as blood started splattering across hers from when she pulled back she didn't stop. Daryl stood watching, blank-faced, as his wife wailed on her father long after she'd started to bash it in. Carl was horrified at what he was seeing as he watched the man start twitching on the floor even as Ani continued to beat on him. Negan was absolutely shocked and had to close his eyes when she roared a second time even louder than the first as Tom's skull deteriorated. It had been damn near deafening, filling the entire factory as she landed blow after blow, one fist after the other. Ani herself didn't stop throwing blows until her fists began connecting to the concrete below having completely pulverized her father and she felt the gloves tear.

Tears formed in her eyes as she breathed heavily sitting on him, noticing the knife not even four inches away. In a movement that caught everyone by surprise with the speed, she had it in her hand and charged at Ellie. She'd given Negan the show the man had wanted and was now firmly locked in a pit of loathing for him for making her do that. A quick, painless death. That's what humans deserved. She knew Tom had died after the second blow she'd landed to his face. There had been no way he could have survived as she'd lost control by then, of both her strength and her actions. But this? Her mother? The weakness that had formed after reading the letter had her charge at the woman and stab her up through the pericardium into the heart.

She sobbed as she held her mother close as the woman began falling. All she'd ever wanted was to be accepted by this woman. To be loved and cared for. To have a family that gave a damn about her, that protected her. And even though she'd found it with Daryl, Merle, and Sophia, as well as the rest of the Atlanta group, there had always been a part of her that felt something was missing. It'd shown when she'd talked to Denny. It'd shown when Carol had betrayed her. It showed in how she was determined to keep the kids she'd taken under her wing safe, both physically and mentally. All she ever wanted was her mother to love her. And now that Ani finally had that love, finally had that acknowledgment, there was no way to even bask in it. Gently laying her mother down as Negan walked up behind her, Ani's stomach began to roll. Turning quickly so as to not puke on her mother's corpse, everything she'd eaten came up and splashed onto a pair of boots instead.

"Not the reaction I expected," Negan said, taking a step to the side and looking disgusted before looking over to Daryl. "Well, don't stand there. Get your ass over here and clean this up." He helped Ani to her feet before looking between the two bodies, "Damn! That was fun to watch. Who else thinks that?" Turning to Ani, he leaned over and whispered in her ear as she watched Daryl come closer with a guarded look, "You did good, real good Ani. They deserved what they got, you deserved to dish it out. So stop the cryin'."

"Ya gonna die for makin' me torture 'im like that, Negan," she said just as quietly so that the others couldn't quite hear her, still staring at Daryl as he cleaned up her sick. "Mark me words," she told him, taking her eyes away from Daryl and staring straight into Negan's, "Ya gonna die."

"Maybe," Negan agreed, seeing that she really could kill him if she wanted to. "Regina, take Ani to the showers. Get her cleaned up in some new clothes, then take her to Carson for her hands." As Ani was pulled numbly from the room, her eyes going back to Daryl's as Negan walked over to Carl. "Some crazy shit, huh? You probably think I'm some kind of lunatic," Negan told him before putting a hand on his shoulder and steering him out of the room. "Come on, kid. Let's go figure out what to do with you."