Rick's already up and moving towards Daryl while the others watch the two of us in our stare down.

"No," I answer.

It cuts the tension of the room, but I don't care about the others right now. All my attention remains focused on the rugged man before me. My stomach clenches so tight it's painful. Our eyes are still locked, the hurt in his gaze making me sick.

You replaced him like he was nothing more than a body to keep you warm at night. How many times did you fuck Negan? Gave him the same love you gave Daryl?

Vomiting no longer seems improbable, but I don't run. I hold that stare, refusing to look away because this is the price I have to pay. The others have no clue, but I know that being back, all of this - it's going to cause them so much pain.

I have no idea how much Daryl heard, how spun around he must be. He has questions, the chewing of his lip and itch in his twitching fingers all tells. They aren't for here, though. His questions are much more personal than what the others want to know. Ones that I don't want to answer because it will only make the pain worse.

Rick goes to pull him out of the room, staying true to what I asked at the beginning of all of this. It's too late for that now.

"He can stay, Rick." I interrupt. "It doesn't matter. I just want to get this over with." My voice is worn, thick with tears and defeat. I hate it.

I avoid Daryl, the man continuing his vigil in the entryway. Rick hesitates, sparring a look my way before heading back to the table.

Again, I decide to stare at the floor. It's easier to pretend that Daryl isn't here this way. Everything inside is all twisted and wrong as the memories roll over me, yet I press on reluctantly.

"That was five months after I left." A small smirk tugs at my lips, thinking of the timeline. "We had an incident. Negan had propositioned a woman, asked her to be his wife. She needed insulin, a costly commodity of the Sanctuary. They didn't have enough points and wouldn't be able to maintain it. She didn't want to be Negan's wife. So, her sister and brother-in-law stole the insulin and escaped."

Sparring a glance at Daryl, I notice his feet shifting back and forth, another sign that he's on edge.

"They came back after we spent a lot of resources looking for them. Like I said before, I didn't care about these people or what happened to them. But when Dwight drove up to Sanctuary on a motorcycle and a crossbow over his shoulders, I decided that I cared what happened to that guy because if he had Daryl's prized possessions then he was the first I was going to kill."

I lock eyes with the hunter, pushing away the malicious thoughts. That night was the first time that I fought back against the Mark. How I made it through that evening without gutting Dwight on scene still amazes me. It didn't matter that I couldn't feel anything, the idea that Daryl might be dead was enough to pull me back to myself for a short time.

"I thought they had killed you," I murmur. Daryl's gaze softens in the slightest but it's gone in an instant.

The room is dead silent now, the others most likely trying to match up their timelines with mine. I still hold that gaze, adding with a gentle smirk, "Then I heard this story about a group of Negan's guys getting blown to shit. I don't know how I knew, but I knew it was you."

At the end of all of this, I hope he can forgive me. It's a tall order, one I'm not putting a lot of money on. Still, I let that little flame of hope burn. Even if he can't forgive me, maybe he can understand why I did what I did. Maybe all of them can?

It's faint, but under that light-colored beard, hides an upturn of Daryl's lips. Not much of a reaction, but I'll take anything.

Getting back on track, I let out a sigh. "That stunt caught Negan's attention too and I knew it would be only a matter of time until Negan found you guys. So, I started making alliances within Sanctuary. Seeing who would follow me over Negan."

"You started a rebellion?" Dean asks, surprised, and I shrug.

"I wasn't stupid. There was no way to take Negan out without help. There were plenty who hated him and just as many who respected him. Trying to kill him and all his lieutenants would have ended with me dead."

"But why follow you?"

"Because I was just like Negan. I had the power, the authority, the respect. Most of the men who sided with me had been outside Sanctuary with me. They knew what I could do, how vicious I was to people. I scared them more than Negan," I answer for Rick. The man's gaze darkens at my words and shame fills my gut.

The truth fucking sucks.

"All right, so you started a rebellion and what, overthrew Negan?" He pushes, now that we're at the meat of the story. Not to mention the part in which they were a pivotal part in all of this.

My gaze drops to the floor again. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that was the initial plan until I heard that a group of assholes slaughtered an entire outpost of Saviors while they were sleeping." The accusation spit with viciousness.

I try to calm the sudden anger but it's hard. Rick and the others made such a ridiculous move. It almost destroyed everything that I had been working towards. So, as much as I try to reel in the simmering fire in my veins, I can't.

Locking eyes with Rick, I scold the man. "Did you realize that a second outpost had been contacted? That somebody escaped that night and came to Sanctuary and told them about you? What were you thinking, Rick?"

His shoulders deflate at the news, realizing the situation he put not only his family in but all of Alexandria.

"Aria, we didn't know there were more. We went based off of what Jesus and the others had told us," Sam tries to explain, mediating but I shake my head, looking to Jesus.

"You knew what they were going to do and you didn't stop them? Hilltop was Negan's golden child! You can't tell me that you guys didn't know how much bigger the Saviors were."

Jesus releases a heavy breath, shaking his head. "I didn't know it was that big. Rick offered to take them out. Gregory-"

I scoff, snarling at the name. "That piece of shit."

"Look, we did what we did because we had to. We didn't know you were doing this, Aria. I had to stop the threat before it came for us," Rick snaps, defending his actions.

They didn't know and that's why I'm pissed. If I hadn't left, I would have been there right alongside them. Which means we would have been fucked if I didn't leave. The group almost was if it wasn't for me.

I pace the floor, trying to work through the crazy mess of emotions that are storming inside me. This was never that hard to manage before. I try breathing in and out slowly, counting backward to ten, but all I want is to smash my fist into something.

You're trying to justify your actions. Trying to align your ideals with theirs, but they won't match. You did what you did because you wanted to. You cover it up saying that you were trying to protect them, but it's a lie and you have to accept that.

"Aria, we can stop." My attention snaps to Dean, the older brother standing, ready to take me out of here if that's what I want.

It's not, though. I want to get it all out - to stop feeling like an emotional time bomb.

"No...I just-" I rake my fingers through my hair, trying to get a hold of this roller coaster of emotions.

Just get it over with.

Sighing, my mind still a storm, I pick up where I left off. "After your attack on the outpost, I had to move quickly. Negan wanted to attack you the next day. Send a small group out to follow you when you went on a run, capture you, and force you to take them to Alexandria. I convinced him to wait a couple of days, told him to give you guys some time to get comfortable, to let your guard down."

My words make me sick to my stomach. It's the truth, stone cold fact. I didn't care if Negan attacked, not really. All I wanted was bloodshed. Like I said, I was a heartless, mindless killing machine.

"It gave me time to pull my supporters together and execute my plan." Again, my gaze finds the floor, the memories pushing forward, letting me get lost in them.

"Dwight and his wife were helping me. They got others to help with the rebellion. We had a guy who knew how to make bombs. He smuggled us a dozen or so pipe bombs and that night after you attacked, we placed them on the east and west side of the Sanctuary. Anybody who was going to fight with me was supposed to storm Sanctuary and take out those loyal to Negan. That was the plan...or so they thought," I murmur.

The scent of smoke, the burning heat of the massive flames scorching my skin, it all comes back. Their screams echo in my ears, a wave of disgust rolling over me.

"'So they thought?'" Michonne questions, her coffee dark eyes unsettled, wary. She should be.

"I played them, made them think that I was going to help liberate them, but I was using them."

Maggie straightens in her seat, eyes wide. "You started an uprising so they would take each other out?"

I nod, grimacing. This is why I can't recognize my reflection. The reason why I struggle to stand in front of everyone now. This is how I became the Queen of Murder.

"After the bombs went off, I opened the main gates into Sanctuary and let walkers in. Then I hunted Negan down."

Gunfire cracks through the air, the roar of the flames deafening as they engulf the fortress. Bodies litter Sanctuary's lawn, blood pooling on the concrete sidewalks. The Mark hums in delight as I enter the factory, falling into my role effortlessly.

"NEGAN!"

I pretend to run the halls in a frantic haze, skidding around a corner to see one of my followers, a larger man with massive biceps, choking him. Negan's gaze lands on me, fear evident as he struggles to get free.

My gun is in my hands, sights aligned, and the bullet leaves the chamber, piercing my follower in the temple. The guy collapses, letting Negan free to gasp for air.

I race to him, checking him over. Glad to see little to no damage since it means more fun for me.

"You, all right?"

"Fine, Red," he mutters, standing up and grabbing Lucille from where she was abandoned a couple of feet from him. "What the fuck is going on?"

Shots echo in the halls, screams ringing out over them. "Negan, we need to get out of here. Sanctuary is a fucking lit torch and walkers are pouring in."

The vein in his neck bulges in rage. "No! I'm not letting my fucking people turn on me!"

Inside the monster smirks, grinning at his naivety. I grab his face, forcing him to look into my forest eyes. "I can't lose you, okay? Please, let this one go."

There's a sick pleasure that comes with seeing the stoic man give in. I want to laugh at how I wrapped him around my finger, leading him to his death like a moth to a flame.

As expected, the man caves. "Fine. You pack our shit and I'll round up what weapons I can. You got five before I come and get you."

My lips crash into his, bruising as I gasp, "Thank you."

I turn on my heel, sprinting to the room I share with him, grinning a Cheshire grin.

The nightstand light is on in the corner of the room, casting ghastly shadows on the wall. Slipping behind the open door, I wait, gun gripped firmly in my hands. My heartbeat stays steady, mind numb to the horrors I'm about to commit.

Three minutes pass, only two to go when I hear heavy footsteps sounding on the linoleum floor, Negan's voice booming in the halls.

"Red, move your sweet ass!"

His shadow creeps into the room, Lucille gripped tight in his hands as he enters slow. As soon as his leg passes the door, my finger squeezes the trigger. A sick grin pulls at my lips at the cry that erupts from the man.

He stumbles to the floor, clutching at his right knee. Blood paints his hands, curses spilling from him as I slam the door shut, emerging out of the shadows with my gun raised. Awe paints Negan's rugged features, rage seething underneath.

"You sly fucking cunt," he snarls between short gasps. I smile, firing a precise shot into the hand still clutching Lucille. "MOTHERFUCKER!"

Fingers go missing, blood oozing from the giant holes. I grab the barbed wire wrapped bat, getting a feel for the weight as Negan chuckles in my silence, gasping through the agony.

"So, what, Red? You wanted this place, is that it? Why wait so long?" His breaths are sharp, sweat beaded on his skin as strings of slicked back hair fall into his face.

I squat down to his level, resting Lucille on my knees. "I don't want Sanctuary, Negan. Others did and I just helped them accomplish that." A snarl tugs at his lips and I grin. "What I want is to break you, make you watch as your hard work goes up in flames. I wanted you to get close to me so that I could rip your heart out. I just wanted to have some fun."

Deep, aching betrayal pools in his honey eyes, but he doesn't let it show in his features. "So, did I piss in your Cheerios at some point? Who the fuck do you belong to, huh?"

Standing up, I tuck Lucille under his chin so that he looks up at me. Negan flinches as the barbs prick his skin, but keeps up the hateful stare. I admire that - staring the reaper in the face with defiance. It's a trait that the demons in hell will love - stripping him of that rebellion until he is a whimpering, cowering soul ready to pick up his own blade.

"That's the thing, I don't belong to anyone. I don't like sharing this world with other monsters."

My grip tightens around the ash wood bat and I slam it down, crushing his shot knee. The crunch of bone sounds over Negan's scream.

"Nope, nope," I tease, the enjoyment clear in my tone as I circle the writhing man. A grin pulls at my lips, repeating words I've heard time and again from him. "You can blink and you can cry, Negan, but you know better than to scream."

Those eyes seethe with hate, but I see past that, see he's just as petrified as the people who knelt before him.

Again, I squat down, resting the now bloodied bat across my knees. Sweat dots his face, specks of blood mixing with it. I hum to myself looking him over, thinking of all the different ways I can make his last moments on this planet hell.

The Mark flares up, making my grip around the bat tighten. I cup his face, Negan's lips curling up in a dark snarl. "It's a shame this is how it has to be. You were a pretty good fuck."

Standing, I take a step back, dropping the demon knife in front of him. Negan's gaze flickers from the knife to me. A fire burns within the man and I know I've made a good choice. It's no fun killing someone who can't fight back. Where's the challenge?

"Get your pathetic ass up and fight me, Negan."

For a moment, he hesitates. Probably wondering if I'm serious or not. Seeing that I'm not making any move, he draws in a ragged breath, jaw clenched so tight the vein in his neck bulges.

I watch him struggle to his feet, stumbling into the dresser as he straightens his broken leg. The demon knife is clutched in his good hand, the other curled against his chest as it continues to ooze a steady stream of crimson.

I twirl Lucille around, stepping closer, and watching his shaking frame. A sharp groan slips from Negan, the dresser slamming into the wall as he collapses against it from trying to put weight on the injured leg.

The edges of my lips curl upwards, Lucille still swirling menacingly in my grip while I taunt, "You having some issues?"

"Fuck off!" His snarl ferocious as he stands unsteadily on his good leg. He wavers, clutching at the dresser to keep him upright.

Lucille rests on my shoulder, my stance lazy while I watch the man draw in shaky breaths. It takes a few more seconds before he stands without the support of the dresser. Determination and hate burn in those dark eyes.

I grin, feeling like a starving dog who's pinned down a meal for the first time in weeks. "Here's how this is going to go, Negan. This is your last chance to save your sorry ass. Kill me and escape to live another day. I can't say you'll have Sanctuary anymore because I currently have set the whole building on fire, but you get a chance to live. Fail to kill me, well…"

The bat weighs in my hands as I get a good swinging grip. I hold that hateful gaze, taunting,

"I won't make you suffer for too long."

Nobody breathes. The horror of my words tangible, setting my hair on end. They want to speak, to verbalize the fear that I've now instilled in them - but they can't. I'm not done yet.

The voice that leaves me falls flat, an echoing noise in the suffocating quiet. "He didn't even touch me. I didn't let him. I toyed with him, pushed him to his breaking point and then even farther. He laid on the ground covered in his own blood and sweat, defenseless and broken…"

I clear my throat. The words are stuck, my tongue useless in my mouth.

"You don't have to say it. We get it." Daryl's voice shatters the silence with a softness that I don't deserve. It doesn't belong at this moment.

So, I shake my head, fingers curled into my palms with my blunt nails digging into the flesh. "You deserve to know exactly what happened - the thing that I became. You have to know, you have to because, because-" I suck in air, fighting through the tightness and the burning of my eyes. "I can't stay here unless you know for sure what monster you're living with."

Daryl's watching me, eyebrows furrowed. He's trying to keep that facade of indifference, to wait and pass judgment when I'm done. I see that. Which is why I hold his gaze, my words a haunting preamble of what is still to come.

"This is only the beginning."

A/N:

Hey! So, I suck. Sorry for being late, again! Things have been rough the past couple of weeks. I'm not giving up on this story. Unfortunately, life isn't going the way I want it and motivation can be a bitch sometimes. So, please be patient with me! I will update!

Now, about the chapter! Pretty brutal, huh? Well, it's only going to get worse in the next chapter. Aria wasn't lying when she said it was only the beginning.

Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing, follow/favorite! It means so much!