Claire's cheek stung. The Savior who'd slapped her scurried away the moment his boss appeared. Negan. It had to be him. He wasn't what she'd expected. He looked human enough, she thought, but she knew monsters came in all shapes and forms.

Negan walked with a pep in his step, almost like he was happy to be there, a one-man show in front of a (literally) captive audience. He did have a baseball bat, a nasty-looking thing covered in barbed wire. Scott had said he'd named it. Lucy, or Lily, or something stupid like that.

Claire glared, committing each one of the Saviors' features to memory. They took her weapons; her angel blade, because she'd been stupid enough to hold it in her hands, and the angel killing gun. They'd forced her down to her knees. It was humiliating.

Clenching her fists, Claire shook with the effort it took to keep her anger in check. Anger was easy. Certainly easier than being afraid. It was dumb, but what did she care? She was already dying. Maybe she'd come back as a vengeful ghost.

The air already stank with fear. Even Carl's badass stepmom, Michonne, had handed over her sword without resistance. And the twins, they were absolutely terrified. Jake was shaking like a leaf in the wind. Claire had never ever seen him so scared.

"Holy shit, if it isn't Tweedledee and Tweedlefuck," Negan said loudly, standing over Jake and Scott's bowed heads. "Shit, I thought you boys were dead."

To the twins' obvious relief, Negan continued his slow pacing, his sharp gaze roaming over the group. He gave each one of them a long, hard look, twirling the bat in his hand. He raised his eyebrows at Castiel's unconscious form and smirked lecherously at Michonne. Then he reached Carl and Judith, and a slow, liquidy smile spread across his face.

"Well, I'll be fucked," Negan said, sucking a sharp breath through his grinning teeth. "I didn't know it was my birthday! Am I dreaming? Am I? Is this a dream? Someone better pinch my asscheeks because I MUST be dreaming."

Grinning broadly, Negan leaned forward and flicked his fingers, sending Carl's hat tumbling off his head. "Carl, right? Rick Junior? Must be, 'cause your daddy, why, he used to eyeball me the exact same way ."

He paused, then started to chuckle. "Right, maybe NOT the exact same way, on account of his having two eyeballs, you know, but man, are you putting that one to work." He reached out, as if to poke Carl in his good eye, then snapped his hand back, as if he was only joking. "In all seriousness, kid, you look disgusting, and I mean that with the utmost respect. That eye is rad as hell. I do not want to mess with this face, no sir."

"What do you want from us?" Carl asked in a calm, even voice.

Negan raised his eyebrows. "Why, I'm going to take you home, young man. Like a big, damn hero. Your daddy's been worried sick, you little twerp. Where the fuck have you been?"

Carl's face was like marble. Only his arms, tightening around Judith, betrayed his nerves as he stared back at Negan coolly.

It seemed to tickle something in Negan. Whatever he saw in Carl's face, he liked it. "Look at this little badass," Negan intoned gleefully, scrunching his nose.

Then he turned his attention to Judith. "Hi sweetheart," Negan cooed, cloyingly sweet. "What in the world happened to you? Oh, you poor, sweet thing. Come here," he said, tucking the baseball bat under his armpit and holding out his hands for Judith.

Judith stared at the man with huge, round eyes. Time seemed to stand still. Carl didn't move, and neither did Negan.

Claire's mind raced with possibilities, but no matter what, she couldn't think of a way to get out of this fucked up situation. Please Cas, she prayed silently, giving it everything she had, please wake up.

One of the Saviors, a woman with a tattoo on her neck, stepped forward. She prodded the back of Carl's head with her rifle.

Negan only smiled, gesturing with open arms. "Gimmie."

Shaking with anger, Carl passed Judith over to Negan. She whimpered softly in protest but melted easily enough into Negan's arms. She was such a sweet thing, Claire thought in despair, so trusting.

"Oh, look at this little angel," Negan cooed, rocking Judith in his arms. He patted her back, tucking her little head under his chin.

Stricken with terror, Michonne watched the grotesque display unfold. "Don't hurt her," she pleaded, her voice cracking.

Chuckling, Negan turned to Michonne. "You're one of Rick's people, aren't you?" Balancing Judith against his hip, Negan lifted his baseball bat, pointing it directly at Michonne's face. She flinched, hard. Negan smirked. "There's some serious Deja-Vu in the air tonight, right? It's not just me?"

"Please," Michonne said quietly.

"Jesus Christ," Negan said, shaking his head. He dropped the bat to his side. "Honestly, lady, don't get me started. I've been having the worst week."

Sighing, he began to rant. "First, and I don't know if y'all noticed or not, but maple syrup is gone. Poof. Not that fake orange corn shit. I'm talking about real tree-bleedin' Canadian oozy goodness. Hand to God, I will give away my left testicle for a bottle of the good shit right now."

God, Claire thought. This asshole really loves the sound of his own voice. She glanced over at Carl, and their eyes met. He was thinking the same thing.

"Second thing," he continued, with the same aggravation he awarded the maple syrup situation, "some freaking banshee breaks all of my goddamn windows. I'm pretty sure my left ear's fucked now." He shook his head, grimacing.

"Finally, my best man, Simon? Goes AWOL. Do you know how important it is to have a second-in-command? How much work, time, and effort goes into this shit?" He looked at Judith, which seemed to soften him up. "Do you want to be my second in command, sweetie-pie? I bet you do."

He gave Judith a smacking kiss on the forehead. She stared back at him, baffled.

Negan chuckled lightly before turning his attention back to the group. "Tonight was supposed to be Negan-time. God knows I've earned it. There I was, minding my own business, sowing my wild oats, if you catch my drift," he paused to wink exaggeratedly at Michonne, "when some jerkhole brains two of my men. Not cool."

He strode purposefully toward Jake and Scott. "Dwight was one of my best men," Negan said somberly, quieter than before. His expression was stone. "He knew his place."

Shaking, frightened tears streaming down his face, Jake nodded.

"Leave him alone," Michonne spoke up. She tried to stand, but one of the Saviors shoved her back down, hard. Undeterred, she pleaded with Negan, "Please, they're just kids."

Negan gave her a hard look. "Children need to learn."

Frightened, Michonne hurriedly nodded. "We understand."

He approached Michonne slowly. His gaze then shifted to Oliver, nestled beside her. "Who's this tough little man?" Negan asked, eyes crinkling.

Oliver stared back at him. Negan leaned forward as if divulging a secret. "Tell you what, kiddo. How would you and this cutie here-" he bounced Judith lightly- "like to go on a ride to try some real, honest-to-God, good old-fashioned ice cream? Mmm?"

The little boy blinked. Quietly, he asked, "What's ice cream?"

Negan gasped theatrically. He leaned back, hand on his chest as if someone had stabbed him through the heart. "What's ice cream?" he repeated, scandalized. "That is just… tragic."

"Where are you taking them?" Michonne demanded, trying to stand up again. The same Savior shoved her back down.

"Really, it's just ice cream." Negan scanned the group, then seemed to settle on Enid. "You, kid, get up. Come on, get up. We haven't got all day. Trust me, I'm doing you a huge solid here."

Confused and frightened, Enid climbed to her feet. Judith practically leaped into Enid's arms. Negan motioned for Oliver to go with her as well. Then he snapped his fingers at a weasley-looking Savior, motioning him forward. "Take these three out for some of Nonna Dia's Special." He grinned.

The Savior nodded. He clamped a heavy hand on Enid's neck, causing her to gasp in fright.

"Hey - " Negan stuck the bat under the man's chin. "Does she look eighteen to you? Keep your fucking hands to yourself."

The weasley man dropped his hand like it was on fire. "Yes, sir."

They drove off without much fanfare. Enid met Claire's eye as she left; she was terrified. Claire fought hard to keep herself from screaming. Negan was speaking, but Claire wasn't paying him any attention. She was praying, a single mantra, over and over again. Cas, please wake up.

The bat snapped by Claire's face. "Excuse the fuck out of me."

Claire steadied her gaze and glared, mustering all of her teenage nerve. "You're excused."

Instead of hitting her with his bat, Negan chuckled. "Is this your daddy, mean girl?"

Belatedly, Claire realized she'd been clutching Castiel's limp hand in hers. She shivered, unable to respond. Smirking, Negan lowered the baseball bat to Castiel's face, the barbs scratching his pallid skin. Angel or not, right now, he was just as vulnerable as they were.

"Don't," Claire whispered, gripping Castiel's hand tightly, watching in horror as Negan turned Castiel's face, revealing the hideous bite on his face. Mortifyingly, she began to cry, tears streaming down her face in streaks.

"Oh, kid," Negan said quietly, not without sympathy. "It's how it goes, isn't it?"

Eyes brimming with tears, Claire whispered softly, "Please, don't hurt him."

Negan stared down at her, long and hard. Slowly, the bat lifted away from Castiel's motionless face. "Shit," he sighed, taking a step back. "I'm turning into a right softie, aren't I?" He brought the baseball bat to his own face, closing his eyes, seemingly gathering strength.

"We lost a few good men tonight," Negan continued, dropping the bat at his side. His moods seemed to change as fast as quicksilver. "I know you dingdongs set me up after those assholes. That trail of bodies? Chef's kiss." He kissed his fingers with a smack. "It breaks my heart to have to kill one of you. Really, it does."

A frost that had nothing to do with her impending sickness washed over Claire. She squeezed Castiel's hand. Please, Cas. Wake up!

Negan scrubbed his face with his hand. "A life for the lives lost. Those are the rules. No exceptions." He dropped his hand with a sigh. "For Dwight, for Terrence, for…" he paused, then clicked his fingers at the Saviors standing guard. "What was his name? The guy with the ear?"

"Tony, sir," replied a bearded Savior.

"Right, Tony. Loved that guy." Negan nodded.

"And Fat Joey."

"Yep," Negan said, rubbing his beard with a grimace. "I loved that fat fucker too. Yes, he had bigger tittes than most of my wives, and yes, he was really fucking useless, but you know what? He was loyal, and somebody shot him down like a dog. Things will not be the same now he's dead, because you know what - without Fat Joey? Skinny Joey is just…pfff… Joey. And that, my friends, is a goddamn tragedy."

There was a murmur of agreement from the Saviors. Slowly, Negan approached Scott. He knelt down, keeping his voice low and honeyed when he asked, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you, son?"

Trembling, Scott shook his head.

Negan pulled back, a smile on his face. "Or maybe it was one of these assholes -" he gestured, rather dramatically, in the direction of the semi-truck.

A moment passed. Nothing happened. Negan dropped his hand with a long-suffering sigh. "That was your cue," he said dryly.

The two Saviors standing by the truck's back doors flinched, then scrambled to get the doors opened. They pulled out several roughed-up, bound and gagged men. Claire was startled to recognize Victor among the captives. He noticed her, eyes widening, and tried to yell something through his gag. He fell silent when a Savior punched him in the gut.

Like Claire and her friends, the Hunters were forced down to their knees. Some of them were bleeding quite badly.

Negan watched them calmly. "You know what, I don't mind doing other people's dirty work every now and then," he said, striding toward the prisoners, bat slung over his shoulder. "There I was, chasing after these douchebags, when - holy shit!"

Negan stopped dead, staring at one of the Hunters. "Bob?"

The hunter blinked up at Negan. "Uhn?" he said through the gag, eyes bulging.

Laughing heartily, Negan tucked the bat under his armpit. He leaned down, pulling the big man by his shoulders, lifting him up effortlessly. "How the hell are you?" Negan asked the gagged man, grinning from ear to ear. "What's it been? Twenty years? Jesus fuck, you look like shit."

He threw his arm around Bob's shoulder, not bothering to remove his gag or bindings. "Look everybody - it's Bob. Did I ever tell you about my old buddy, Bob? Remind me to tell y'all about the time with the clowns. Remember, Bob? One of those cases that just hit you straight in the what-the-fuck. I thought my boy was going to shit his pants. Fucking Corky the magic clown." He laughed.

Bob kept staring at Negan, nose bleeding freely down into his gag. Negan patted him on the shoulder, all friendly-like. He turned back to the group, still chuckling.

"Fuck, where was I? I keep getting distracted." He ran a hand through his hair. "Ah, yes, I think I was just about to break someone's balls -" he pointed the bat at Claire, making her jump. "Figuratively speaking..." Smirking, he turned back to Bob and stuck the baseball bat between the hunter's legs. "...literally speaking."

The large man stood on his tiptoes. He squealed behind his gag.

Negan burst into laughter. He lowered the bat. "I'm just fucking with you, B. I don't want to break your balls!"

He waited until Bob gave a nervous laugh.

Then, without any warning, Negan swung the bat at the hunter's face.

No one moved, too shocked to react. The hunter, knocked off his feet, stared up at Negan in abject terror. His jaw was hanging loosely off his face.

Negan, grinning, brought the bat down hard, striking the hunter again and again. Blood, bone, and brain matter splattered freely throughout Negan's brutal attack. He didn't stop until the hunter's face was reduced to a bloody paste.

Claire fought to control her breathing, watching the display with sickening fascination. Please, Cas. Please wake up.

Finally, breathing hard, Negan whipped back. His face was splattered with blood. "Shit … I just remembered," he said, staring down at his handiwork. "Son of a BITCH still owes me eighty bucks!"

He turned to the bound and gagged Hunters. They were staring back at him with fear and dismay. Negan gave them a little wave. "Take these assholes back to Sanctuary. Give 'em a nice timeout on Easy Street."

The tattooed female Savior brought over a towel. Negan handed her the bat for safekeeping, then wiped the blood and sweat off his face. "Don't worry," he called after the Hunters as they were loaded back into the truck, "I'll come and visit."

With a sigh, Negan turned his attention back to Claire and her friends. "It's nothing personal," he explained, wiping his hands on the towel. "I'm assuming there's a reason these assholes came after you. It's all right, you're safe now." He smiled, almost fatherly, flinging the towel over his shoulder. The smile slowly dropped from his face. He stared at the twins, expression hard. "As long as you follow the rules."

He strode slowly toward Jake and Scott. "I expected more from you two," he said sternly, stepping between them.

Shaking like a prey animal, Jake whispered. "We didn't run."

Negan gripped Jake's shoulder. "I know, son."

Then he pulled out a knife and slit Jake's throat.

There was a scream. Hers, everyone's. Claire didn't know. She didn't know what sounds were coming out of her own mouth. She couldn't hear anything beyond the ringing in her ears.

Please, Cas. She begged. Please, please.

She watched Jake collapse, gasping, clawing at the gaping wound in his neck.

Sobbing, Scott's hands flew to his brother's throat, helplessly trying to hold back the rivers of blood. "No, no, no…"

The bleeding slowed down to a trickle. There was a gurgle, one last dying breath. The body went still.

Sobbing, Scott cradled Jake's lifeless body in his arms.

Castiel never woke up.

Negan sighed. He stepped toward Scott. "I know you think I'm a monster. It's okay," Negan said, squeezing Scott's quivering shoulder. "No one is above the rules, not even me. The rules keep us alive, keep us in order."

In Scott's arms, Jake's body began to twitch.

Negan dropped his hand. "Shit," he exclaimed, stepping back. "That must be some kind of record!"

The walker wearing Jake's face snapped its teeth, its eyes clouded and wild. It struggled against Scott's hold. Sobbing harder than ever before, Scott pushed down with all his strength, keeping the walker's gnashing teeth at bay.

"That was fast as shit," Negan said, sounding impressed. "Teenagers," he chortled, shaking his head.

A Savior approached Scott. It dropped something in front of him. Scott flinched hard, struggling to hold down Jake's undead body. It was a pole of some kind, Claire realized with a shudder of disbelief. It had some kind of holding mechanism at its end. Suddenly, she remembered what Jake had told them, back at the camp. About Negan stringing up traitors for all to see.

No one was coming to save them, she realized.

Not Castiel, not Carl's mythical dad.

No one.

"We're done here," said Negan, rolling his neck with a sigh. "Let's get you kids home."

A/N: Trust me? 💔

P.S. Check my profile in a few minutes for "Really Bad Eggs" if you want to find out what Sam and Dean have been up to :)