Hiding one's true motivations from those who wish to do you harm is the theme as we see Carol and Daryl fighting to get to one another in their own separate ways.

A Different Heart Raving

See me now, this is not me
Not like the one, I used to be.
See me now, you would not guess
a different heart raving in my chest.
-"Year of the Wolf," Motorhead

Savior City, aka "Sanctuary":

The room looked like a living room at a high end hotel, nice furniture, curtains on the high ceilinged windows, Persian rugs on the floor and games and books stacked on the floors and tables. A large flat screen television was mounted on one wall and book shelves of DVDs and Blu-Rays lined them.

Three women, ranging in age from possibly late teens or early twenties to mid-thirties, wearing nightgowns that looked like they had been picked out at men's night at Victoria's Secret, stared owl eyed at the two new comers who had just arrived with Negan, followed by two eager looking guards, one of them having been accorded the honor of carrying Lucille. The guards stayed outside the room, closing the door behind the others, standing sentinel at the harem.

"This is Sherry—she'll show you the ropes and get you settled in." Negan said in introduction, indicating the older blonde and then ordered, "Put Carol in the blue room, Sherry, she needs to get off her feet."

"The... the blue room? But that's..." the woman blanched, looking Carol up and down, noting the solicitous arm the leader of the community had around the heavily pregnant woman.

For her part Carol stood quietly with her hands resting on her abdomen, the perfect Renaissance Madonna, a small smile below her tired eyes, leaning slightly into the support Negan was providing.

"You heard me, Sherry." Negan's solicitous tone grew hard at the hint of hesitation on the part of the other woman.

"It'll take me a few minutes to move my things." Sherry said stiffly, keeping her eyes downcast and hurrying away before she gave voice to any further protest.

"There you go." Negan said, watching her leave with a narrow eyed grin of satisfaction.

Carol already knew he was a 'when I say jump you ask how high' kind of tin plated dictator. She was counting on it.

"Thank you for your kindness." Carol said, her meek cookie baking housewife personae firmly in place. "I wasn't sure what to expect, but this...well, it does seem like a safe place to have my baby."

"Your place is here, my dear. It's in the safest part of the compound, away from outside attack and biters alike." Negan assured her, leading her over to a comfortable looking chair, but before she could take the seat, Erin spoke up.

"And the other women from our group?" Erin asked tightly, knowing she was risking his wrath, the bruise he'd inflicted on her cheek bone in the limo starting to go from red to purple already. "Are they warming your men's beds?" They hadn't seen Rosita, Tara or Enid since they'd arrived. He'd insisted on taking Carol on a tour of the medical facilities first, introducing her and Erin to their doctor and gaining his assurances that they had all the equipment and medicines needed to guarantee Carol a safe delivery.

"They haven't been assaulted if that is your concern." Negan said, looking insulted. "Sexual violence is abhorrent to me. Women are the future of this planet and I will not abide them being used by whore mongering deviants."

"So where are they?" Erin pressed.

"There is a customary cooling off period for new wives." Negan said, practically gritting his teeth at her challenge. "I waved it for you and Carol being as she is in a more fragile condition. Your other companions need to learn the rules around here before they will be fit to join you here."

"New wives?" Erin asked with distaste, and then seemed about to launch into a diatribe, but Carol jumped in.

"I really am just exhausted. Would it be possible for me to go lie down now or is there something else you need from us?" Carol asked Negan, putting her hand on his forearm and giving it a little squeeze, looking up at him with tired soft eyes.

"Of course—what am I thinking?" the big man said, putting his hand over hers and leaning in to brush a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Amber, make some hot tea while I get Carol settled in her room." Then he turned to Erin, "I'd like you to meet with Dr. Carson to discuss the birthing plan—I've been through Lamaze and will be present as coach—but I want to be clear on any concerns you have about the delivery."

Both Carol and Erin were surprised at this new wrinkle and exchanged a quick uneasy look before Carol smiled and nodded, starting forward towards the hallway that the woman Sherry had gone down earlier.

Negan went along with her, protective, almost hovering as he gave her his arm in support as they moved towards her room.

"What in the hell..." Erin muttered, shaking her head after them.

"He loves babies." The young blonde, Amber said quietly as she turned on an electric teapot to heat water and begin setting up a tea tray.

"What, as snacks?" Erin scoffed softly, coming closer to Amber.

"He wants us all to have them—but so far none of the wives has been able to carry to term." Amber said sadly.

"You?" Erin asked, noting the woman's downcast eyes.

Amber nodded.

"How many wives are there?" Erin asked. Looking at the other woman in the room who, like Sherry seemed a bit hostile to the idea of the new ones' arrival. "How many other woman has he captured?"

"We aren't prisoners." The other woman asserted, flopping down into the chair Carol had just vacated and twirling a lock her long dark loose hair around her finger. She looked to be in her twenties, pretty in a hard sort of way, like she'd been a biker chick before the turn, a tattoo of a snake curling around her arm from wrist to bicep, her eyes darkened with black eyeliner and mascara.

"Not?" Erin asked skeptically.

"We're here because we chose to be— as a wife it's better for me and mine to be protected and safe than out there with the rotters." She said giving a little shudder, "Even if I had to fuck the ugliest guy in the world it's worth it."

"Kayla!" Amber tried to hush her friend, looking down the hallway to make sure Negan hadn't heard her.

"Well, he ain't ugly is all I'm saying!" Kayla sighed in exasperation, "He's a looker and he's got a big dick and he only comes around to me once or twice a week, so I got no complaints." She gave Amber a narrow eyed look and added ominously in a low voice, "You just better keep the rules in mind, Ambie—I seen you talkin' to that ex of yours—hubby finds out you been screwin' around on him, you know what's next."

"What's next?" Erin asked as she saw how distraught the threat made Amber, who started chewing on her thumbnail, tears forming in her big brown eyes.

Kayla sat forward and motioned Erin closer.

"You seen the bowman, Dwight?" Kayla whispered.

"The burned man." Erin nodded. The extensive scarring on the left half of his face had to have been from a fire, his eyelashes and brow were gone as well.

"Sherry was his wife." Kayla said. "When they came here they got read the rules—if you want to stay? If you want to move up the ranks? You got to give something to the community. They didn't have nothin' to give..."

"So he gave Negan his wife?" Erin sighed with distaste.

"It was her idea. Worked too, for a while. Dwight moved all the way up 'til he was Negan's second in command. Then he got cocky—decided he could sneak around behind the boss's back and have Sherry too." Kayla said.

At this reminder, Amber started to softly cry in earnest.

"But Negan doesn't share." Kayla continued. "They got caught and Negan dragged 'em into the courtyard, trussed Dwight up and slapped a hot iron to his face—you know, just a regular clothes iron—but holy shit the screams!"

"Oh my god..." Erin said, holding her hand to her mouth, appalled. The agony would have been unspeakable.

"Happened before she got here," Kayla gestured at Amber, "so she didn't see it like me, hear it...smell it... If she did she'd stay away from her pretty little boyfriend Mark when hubby is gone." Kayla sneered at Amber, "Fuck up his pretty face like Dwight's—that worth it? You like ridin' his dick that much you'd risk that?"

"We didn't–we haven't..." Amber denied, but her guilt was evident from the fear she was showing.

"Amber! Where's the damn tea?" Sherry said, hurrying down the hall and into the room, looking worried and impatient.

Kayla gave her a 'cat that ate the cream' smile and lounged back on the chair while Amber quickly wiped her eyes and set to finishing the preparation of the tea pot.

"Looks like you're not the supreme any more, Sher." Kayla gloated.

"I do what my husband tells me to do." Sherry said evenly, holding her temper in check. "As sister-wives it's our duty to help another in need. Pregnancy means she needs the blue room."

"What a crock of shit." Kayla grunted. "You were the only one with a private room n' now you gotta move back in with the rest of us. Carol's the new supreme."

"She's a walker waiting to happen." Sherry said dismissively, a certain smug arrogance in her tone. Her gaze swept the room, "You see any other new mothers and babies around here?"

Kayla and Sherry shared a loaded look while Amber looked distressed.

"Amber—take the tea in to Carol, okay?" Kayla said, nodding her head at the girl.

Amber frowned but did as she was told.

"You're not pulling that shit this time, Sherry." Kayla warned in a quiet but fierce voice, standing and coming to confront the blonde.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sherry said, a bland look of put upon innocence on her round face.

"Diane? Ellie? The accidents?"Kayla accused. "Amber's miscarriage?"

Sherry just stared back, not denying it.

"Stay away from Carol." Erin said, finally getting it. Sherry wasn't about to give up her standing as first wife—the supreme—to any woman, especially not one who could give Negan a child.

"Why? You two a couple?" Sherry snarked, "Couple a Lesbo bitches decided to have a kid in the middle of the Apocalypse? What'd you do? Get some poor asshole drunk enough to screw her gray haired tired old ass?"

"She was raped." the deep voice from behind her made Sherry's eyes go wide in fear. "And she has more grace and dignity than you could ever hope to have."

Negan continued walking until he was in front of all three women and then he turned to face them, putting his hands on his hips.

"Carol is under my protection. Anything happens to her or the baby, Sherry?" Negan leaned close to the blonde, who was trembling in fear, "Your pretty face will be having a close personal relationship with my bitch Lucille. Understand?"

Sherry paled, her lips went tight and she quickly shook her head yes.

"Show me how deeply you understand, wife." Negan ordered and his hands moved to unfasten his belt buckle.

Sherry obediently dropped to her knees.

Kayla smirked in satisfaction.

Erin looked away, sickened...

Alexandria

"I'm not going to try and stop you." Aaron said forcefully, "But I need you to listen to me."

Daryl paused in his stuffing of ammo into his back pack and stared at him, his stubborn almost irrational determination beaming out from every pore.

"How are you going to do this? What's your plan?" Aaron asked, leaning on the Armory door jam. He'd followed Daryl down here from the Clinic after silently signaling Rick to back off. He knew there was too much history between Rick, Carol and Daryl for any further arguments the ASZ leader tried to make to sway the Archer.

Daryl's shoulders slumped slightly and he closed his eyes to his friend's entreaty and winced. He felt like one big wound, bruised and broken by the blast that had tossed him against the car like so much flotsam. Adrenaline and whatever painkillers they'd pumped him full of in the infirmary were about all that was keeping him standing at this point. That and his need to get to Carol...

"Daryl?" Aaron said more gently, coming close enough to touch Daryl's shoulder.

The other man opened his eyes and Aaron saw the threat of tears, saw the misery and helplessness there before the Daryl let his anger and determination fill them again and he shrugged off the hand attempting to comfort him.

"Back the fuck off." Daryl bit out and turned away to go back to his packing.

"It seems to me that infiltration is your only chance." Aaron said, canting his hand to the side, trying to get Daryl to meet his eyes again, "Make them think you want to join up, get inside, find the women and Carl and get back out, right?"

That was exactly the play Daryl had in mind. The rest of the Alexandrians were cut from the same mold as Aaron and Eric, despite what they'd been through they remained fairly clean cut in dress and manner. Daryl was still the kind who fit in with the Claimers, the Wolves—his wild side never far from the surface. He appeared to be just the sort of hard man that Negan and the Saviors recruited. He had to hope that when he'd been blown up none of them had gotten a good look at him or if they had he could play that off as why he wanted in—that he didn't think that Rick could protect them anymore. That would be a harder sell, it would take longer to prove himself, but he could handle it. If Merle had taught him anything it was how to bullshit his way out into or out of any situation.

"You'll still need back-up. Someone on the outside waiting with vehicles to make sure you all make it back here...especially if anyone's...less mobile..." Aaron's voice trailed off. They both knew how fragile Carol's physical state already was and who knew what it might be by the time he was able to get her free.

"It's a suicide mission." Michonne said, coming into the room, followed by Morgan.

"Negan will suss out how you feel about Carol the second you lay eyes on her."Morgan agreed.

They'd all heard that Negan had threatened to outright kill the father of Carol's child to prevent just this sort of scenario from happening.

"Do I look like a family man? Like a lady like her would lower herself to fuck an animal like me?" Daryl growled, his eyes narrowed to wolfish slits, menacing and feral in his dirty bloody face. "Negan will see what I want him to see."

"So what happens if you actually get in there?" Michonne asked, allowing that he could be right.

"I become one of them." Daryl said, moving to finish his packing. "Do whatever it takes to make the head asshole trust me so's I can get her outa there."

"And what about the rest of them?" Morgan asked, raising an eyebrow, wondering how far Daryl was willing to go to save his woman; if he was as ruthless as he'd seen Carol be when she had to.

"She'll save the rest of 'em!" Daryl bellowed, throwing down the pack and glaring at Morgan. He pointed towards the open door emphatically, the cords of his throat standing out as he yelled. "She puts everybody ahead a' her, don't you get that by now? She's probably already got that prick wound around her little finger workin' on him to let them go while she stays behind."

Michonne took a step forward and raised her hand in supplication, trying to calm him, her expression one of understanding, but Daryl just lowered his arm and shook his head at her.

"I ain't gonna let her do that this time." Daryl grabbed the pack back up and zipped it up. Putting it over his shoulder he started limping towards the door. He picked up his crossbow and quiver and threw it on his other shoulder, inadvertently whacking it against his bruised back.

His three friends watched as the pain made him stumble and catch himself on the door jamb with his right hand.

"You can't ride your bike like that." Aaron said, trying another way to make him think about what he was doing.

"Then I'll walk." Daryl said without looking back, pushing off from the door and starting up the stairs.

Michonne looked at Aaron and Morgan.

"You going with him?" Michonne asked Aaron.

Aaron nodded, "Anyone else, gather weapons; meet you at the gate," and then he followed after Daryl, leaving Michonne and Morgan alone.

"We do what we need to do to get them back. That means we're probably going to kill people." Michonne said, coming to stand in front of Morgan. "You can't handle that then we don't need you."

Michonne moved past him and pulled out a gun bag. She lifted down and stowed a sniper rifle, and AK-47 and an Uzi inside it. Next she went to the bin where the pistols were stored and grabbed four, covering all their bases.

Morgan stood still and watched her, thinking of another woman, another child he hadn't been able to save. Another time his inaction had doomed the ones he cared about most in this world.

Without looking at Michonne he moved to another storage bin and silently started filling a duffle with ammo fit to the guns she had chosen and then picked out other small weapons like flash bangs and grenades, adding them to the bag.

Sanctuary

It had been cold in the undercarriage of the big truck Carl had crawled up and into, hiding himself from the Saviors. Using his belt he'd lashed himself to the big cables running from the front to the back, far away enough from the tires so he wouldn't get dragged under. His arms and legs ached, pins and needles racing up and down from holding the same position for so long, his hands and feet were numb, tears running down his face.

The truck slowed and he could hear the creak and rattle of metal—a gate—opening and closing before the vehicles all passed through it. The ground beneath him changed to gravel stained in various places with blood and oil, but then became pavement again when they passed through another opening into the inside of a warehouse space. The truck pulled into a parking place, powered down and then Carl could hear the sounds of men disembarking and others yelling greetings, chatting, and the smell of cigarette smoke and sweat.

Waiting until he couldn't hear or see any more signs of life he finally unbuckled his belt and tried to quietly drop to the ground, but his numb legs and arms wouldn't support him and he just barely missed slamming face first in to the pavement, turning his head to the side at the last second, still getting the breath knocked out of him.

"Shit." Carl muttered, grunting out a little groan. He allowed himself a few seconds more to recover and then pulled his pistol from the leg holster and raised his head so he could look all around him before he crawled out from under the truck. He came up onto his knees and then into a crouch, hiding behind the wheels, his gun held up and ready.

He hoped this was the same place they'd brought Enid, Carol and the others. That had been his only thought when he'd slipped away from the rest during the chaos and hidden himself under the truck. They'd been taken and someone had to get them back.

Carl looked left and then stood more upright, knowing he needed to move, to find better cover.

"Unless you want a bolt through the back of your skull, put the gun down and put your hands up." a rusty drawl from behind ordered him.

Carl whipped his gun around, but a sharp blow to the side of his head from the butt end of a crossbow had him sprawling back to the floor, his gun skittering out of his hands.

"Get your hands where I can see them." Dwight ordered.

Dizzy and disoriented, he raised his hands above his head and grimaced as he looked up into the half-melted face of one of the men he'd seen at Negan's side when the Saviors had attacked Alexandria.

"Ugly ain't it?" the burned man said, keeping the bow aimed at Carl while he bent to retrieve the teen's gun and shove it in the back of his pants.

"Seen worse." Carl shrugged, squinting and making a sour face.

"Livin' in the lap of luxury in that place?" Dwight scoffed. "Safe behind those walls?"

"That isn't who I am." Carl told him, "Only been there a few months. Before that we were out there... awhile... we lost people... I've seen worse."

Dwight stared at the boy who'd been brave enough or foolhardy enough to come after the women from his group.

"She your mom? Carol?" the bowman asked, narrowing his eyes.

"One of them." Carl said, nodding. She was. Just like Michonne. "Is she okay?"

"She's safe enough for now. Negan likes her." Dwight told him and then motioned at him with the end of the bow. "Get up."

"That where you're taking me now?" Carl asked, sullen. "So he can kill me?"

"Despite appearances, kid?" Dwight said, shouldering his bow and holding out a hand to help Carl stand, "That isn't who I am."

NR often talks about how he listens to Motorhead to prepare for portraying Daryl & the quote from that group's song at the beginning fits this chapter perfectly.

It seems Dwight has no love lost for Negan (for good reason!); is he perhaps an ally for Carl and the rest of the group?

Thanks for reading!