Chapter 24

I paced in front of my cot, unsure of what to do with myself. Negan had taken Carl away several hours ago and Daryl had left with Dwight not too long after. I was alone once more with nothing to occupy my time but my thoughts and they were never any help.

To keep myself busy, I decided to go through the box at the end of my cot, throwing out things that I didn't need or want and sorting what was left. I found the golden locket again, and after some hesitation, I put it on. The weight of it was a calm presence on my chest at first, but as I thought of its previous owner and how the necklace came to be around my neck instead of theirs, it got heavier and heavier. I clawed at my chest, wanting it off of me as it suddenly became harder to breathe, when a gentle hand fell on my arm.

"Everly? Are you okay?"

I looked up, the silver chain a tangle in my fingers, to see Suzanne standing beside me, a worried frown creasing her face.

"Uh," I swallowed hard and nodded, taking deep breaths.

"You need some help?" She started to reach for the locket.

"Y-" I cleared my throat, "yes."

She smiled briefly, the worried look still wrinkling her brow, and reached behind my neck to unclasp it. As the necklace fell from my shoulders, I looked down at the locket and wondered why I even bothered to put it on in the first place. It wasn't mine, it held no value to me, but I felt responsible for it. Like if I had thrown it away, I would be letting down the person it had belonged to before even though she no longer exists. Suzanne reached out a soft hand and took it from my grasp.

"Amanda, huh?" She looked it over and popped it open.

I then realized that I have never looked inside of it and I was suddenly curious to see what it held. I stepped closer to Suzanne to look over her shoulder and saw a little girl, perhaps seven or eight, smiling widely up at us. She was pretty and the gaps in her smile where her baby teeth had fallen out made it even more charming. It wasn't sure if this was Amanda or someone else, but it hurt my heart immensely and I turned away.

I heard the locket click shut.

"She reminds you of someone?" Suzanne asked. I turned back to her, trying my best to compose myself.

"Sort of," I tried to smile.

"She reminds me of someone, too," Suzanne sighed and looked at the locket in her hand again. She tossed it gently back in the box.

"Your granddaughter, Alyssa?" I surmised.

"Yeah," she nodded with a sad smile. "Of course, everything reminds me of her these days."

We stood there in a brooding silence for a moment, thinking about our lost loved ones. The presence of each other was comfortingly adequate that a lack of conversation wasn't awkward, but rather necessary. We didn't need to say how much we were hurting, how scared we felt. We both knew that pain was there and we expressed it silently, our mutual support enough to ease it a little.

"Did you know her?" I asked Suzanne.

"The person here before you? Not really," she answered simply. "I did see her around some. She was very quiet, basically anti-social if you will, and she wasn't here for very long. I never really got the chance to try to know her."

I nodded, looking down at my hands that were twisting the hem of my shirt. I took a seat on my cot and bobbed a leg, trying to get rid of all the nervous energy that had built up inside of me.

"Did she leave or…?" I didn't want to say the word 'die' for some reason. It felt like poison in my mouth just thinking about it.

"I'm not sure actually," she had a confused tone to her voice and she sat down beside me, a pensive look on her face. "She was here maybe all of three months and she hardly ever spoke to anyone. There was one person here, though, that she did speak to quite often, and anytime I ever saw her talk with him their conversations seemed very animated. Each time, I got the sense that she was very excited about something. It was the most expression I'd ever seen her have. It was odd."

Suzanne shook her head thoughtfully and I furrowed my brows in confusion.

"Who did she talk to?"

"Dr. Avery," she answered.

That made some sense to me. Dr. Avery was a very kind and caring person who took care of me when I needed it the most. If Daryl had never been brought here with me, Dr. Avery and Suzanne would be my only friends.

"I could see that," I smiled a little. "Sounds to me like she must've been sick or very depressed and he was cheering her up. I'm sure he was doing all he could to make her feel better."

"I'm sure of it, too. He's a good man," Suzanne smiled back and patted a kind hand on my shoulder.

Abruptly, the doors to the common area slammed open and a group of Saviors strode in, two of them dragging a struggling man between them.

"Come on, guys! You don't have to do this!" He yelled, trying vainly to dig his feet in the concrete floor.

Arat drew a simple metal chair to the middle of the room and waited for the man to be situated in it before tying his hands behind the back of the chair. The man continued to beg and plead for his comrades to let him loose; that this was all a misunderstanding, he just needed a minute to talk with Negan alone, he could fix this, and so on. No one paid him any mind.

I started to ask what was going on when Dwight walked into the room, Daryl not too far behind. He eyes instantly settled on me, and I could tell some shit had and was going to continue to go down.

"Dwight!" The man yelled. "Man, it's me! You know me! I wouldn't do anything to betray Negan! Please!"

Dwight kept his features a hard mask, not even bothering to look at the sweating mess of a man who yearned for his attention. Instead, he took an iron, the obsolete kind that needed to be heated up manually, and placed it into the raging furnace with a hook. The man's howls got louder.

"Don't do this!" Anger bubbled in the man's voice under the fear. "Don't you dare do this! You of all people, Dwight! Dwight!"

His name echoed in the cavernous room, a vibrating cry that seemed to circle around infinitely. Dwight kept his back to everyone and stared into the burning embers, his scarred face like glowing marble. All of the occupants in the Sanctuary began to filter in and gather around, silently speculating on what was happening; Sherry and who I assumed to be Negan's other wives among them. They all began to whisper softly, growing louder with time as the man hung his head and whimpered to himself, and then there was a sudden hush as almost everyone got down on one knee and bowed their heads.

I looked over my shoulder to see Negan standing on the walkway above, an eerie smile on his face, and Carl standing beside him, his face red, puffy and sullen. I stood up with my hands balled at my sides and got down on my knee, too, a stab of indignation piercing my chest. I wondered feverishly what had happened between them as Negan began to talk. Where had they been for so long? What had they discussed? Why did it look like Carl had been crying?

"My fellow Saviors, my…friends," Negan began, his voice overcoming the kneeling crowd, "we are most unfortunately gathered here this evening because of a person I thought I trusted; a person that I gave everything to and expected nothing else in return other than the loyalty that he owed me… This person, he took advantage of my kindness. He took advantage of my trust, my friendship…and he shit right on it!"

Negan laughed sarcastically and drummed on the metal handrail in front of him with his fingers. He turned his smiling face to Carl.

"This, my friends, is what happens when you shit on the things I've so generously given you."

He said something quietly to him then, leaning into his personal space as was his usual move to make those was wanted to intimidate uncomfortable. It seemed to be working on Carl and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. Negan turned back to the bowed crowed and lifted up his hands, signaling for us to stand again.

"You see, and this is very simple, when I give you the world and I save your life, I don't ask for a whole lot in return. Nothing but the mutual respect and fidelity that should come naturally," Negan started down the stairs as he spoke, stopping now and then to survey us in his silent moments. "We are not just survivors of the apocalypse. We save the world from the ugliness that rapes it bloody every damn day. We are here to make this shitstorm of a situation a little less…shitty, if you will. We are Saviors… Most of us…but not all."

He looked pointedly at the man in the chair whose head still hung. He was no longer whimpering now, but his eyes were shut tight, his bottom lip trembling as his listened to Negan's speech. Negan sighed and finished coming down the stairs; he parted through the crowd effortlessly and stopped next to the man.

"Dammit, Mark," Negan sighed again. He bent down, his hands on his knees, to look Mark in the face. "It's time to weed out the bad ones."

"N-Negan, I'm s-sorry. It was a mistake. Please!" Mark whimpered again.

"I know, buddy," Negan smiled gently and nodded. "But you fucked up… And when you fuck up!" Negan stood up and circled around to look at all of us. "You get the iron."

"Noooo!" Mark screamed and struggled against his bindings.

"Rules are rules. You know that," Negan shrugged his shoulders sympathetically. He turned to Dwight and walked over to him.

Dwight lifted the hook to pull out the glowing iron from the furnace. Negan slipped on a thick rubber glove and grabbed the iron by the handle. He turned around slowly, holding the iron in the air.

"No!" Mark yelled again, determination in his voice as he kicked at the ground. The chair moved backward and two Saviors came forward to hold him still.

Negan didn't say anymore. He simply walked up to Mark, the iron a small sun shining in his hand, and brought it down to kiss the left side of his face. I closed my eyes instantly. I didn't want to see, and Suzanne gripped my hand tightly as we listened to Mark's screeching rise in a crescendo and instantly die as he passed out.

I opened my eyes again as Negan pulled the iron away from Mark's face, his burnt and melted skin following it as it ripped from him. My stomach heaved and twisted into knots. Daryl, who still stood by Dwight, caught my eye and we exchanged a meaningful look.

"Damn, Mark," Negan expressed, "that's gonna leave a hell of a…mark."

He turned back to face Dwight, a knowing smirking gracing his lips, and placed the iron back on the hook before taking off the glove and shoving it against Dwight's chest. Dwight turned away, his forehead visibly sweaty, and replaced the items in their proper spots. Daryl stared at him, an expression of sympathy and anger converging all at once on his face.

"Now, you all know that I don't take pleasure in this," Negan addressed us again and held his hand out to Mark. "This is not who I am, but rather what I have to be. I cannot be a leader if I can't take control. I hate doing this shit. I really do…but what comes with your betrayal is a reminder. One that is permanent so that it won't be so easily forgotten… Rules are who we are, what we live by, what we believe in. We can't bring order back to the world without them; they are our very foundation... And you cannot be a Savior of this world if you want to take advantage of it, too. I hope y'all will continue to remember that."

Some people clapped or nodded their heads in agreement at Negan's speech, but most stayed silent. They probably felt as utterly helpless and dumbfounded at the sheer hypocrisy and narcissism of the whole thing as I did.

"Get him up and take him to see Dr. Carson," Negan commanded his Saviors. "And someone get a fucking mop. He went and pissed himself."

As his Saviors began their task, the crowd began to slowly disperse. My sights roved over the group, taking in their reactions as they moved back their daily duties. Some people seemed unfazed, others nervous and the rest satisfied.

Suzanne's hand still gripped mine, but I felt her let me go and her breath against my ear as she whispered something to me that I didn't register. As she left my side, I spotted Sherry on the opposite end of the room, hugging and comforting a young blonde woman who cried hysterically on her shoulder. She had to be connected to Mark somehow.

I lifted my head up to find Carl again and saw him standing in the same place, his hands holding the handrail in front of him. He looked pale and horrified. I wanted to comfort him, tell him it was all right and he'd be home soon, but I also didn't want to lie to him either. I wasn't sure what Negan planned to do with him and I was afraid of exacerbating the situation. I turned away instead and headed over to Daryl.

"Where have you been?" I asked him as soon as he was within earshot. Both he and Dwight looked at me.

"Helping me," Dwight answered before Daryl could. He looked at me briefly over his shoulder.

"I didn't ask you," I told him steadily while trying not to sound too bitchy. After what we had just witnessed, I understood his actions a bit better.

"I was gettin' situated with my new role as Savior here," Daryl said, stepping closer to me. "I was also keepin' an eye on Carl."

Good, I let out sigh. That bit of information made me feel much better.

"Is there a party going on over here or something?" I heard Negan say behind me. He came up to stand by Dwight. "You enjoy the show, Dwighty boy?"

Dwight smirked into the flames, shadows flickering over the scars that would forever mar his face. He shut the furnace door with a small scoff, turning to nod his head and look Negan in the eye.

"Yeah, man. It was a good one."

"Well, I thought so," Negan returned blithely. "I mean, you never do get quite used to the smell of searing half a man's face off, but boy, is it fun."

"You are horrifying," I said automatically.

"Really?" Negan diverted his attention to me. "You've lived thus far through the fucking apocalypse and I'm the most horrifying thing you've ever seen? I mean, I'll take the compliment, but really?"

"I said you were horrifying, not the end-all-be-all," I corrected.

"Oof, following a compliment with an insult. I think I'm rubbing off on you," Negan laughed, regarding me for a moment before addressing Dwight and Daryl. "Go get the boy settled in. Find him a room with a nice, comfy bed. He's spending the night."

"Sure thing," Dwight conceded and patted Daryl on the arm. "Come on."

Daryl stood for a moment, clearly torn between following Negan's orders and attending to Carl or staying with me. Considering how the past half hour went, I was glad he made the choice to follow Dwight, giving me a brief kiss on the head before he went. I smiled inwardly, but kept my eyes cast down as he left.

"That one is bold," Negan muttered to me as he watched Daryl go. "And dammit, do I like the son of a bitch anyway."

He smiled down at me and then held out a leather clad arm. He waited patiently me for me to take it, and I did so reluctantly, flicking my eyes over my shoulder to see Sherry and her sister wives around her. She gave me a warning look and shook her head. I knew what she was trying to say.

Don't do it.

We started out of the room.

We walked around the Sanctuary, Negan lead me to places I'd never seen before to inform me on things I needed to know now that I'd been promoted. I didn't say a lot in response but just took it all in silently. I felt very overwhelmed and exhausted. The day had been long, filled with much more surprises and adventures than I'd expected. It seemed to be lasting an eternity, like I had died and was stuck in Limbo.

As we made it to the top of the factory, he opened a door and led me outside on a walkway. We were very high up and I saw the ground swimming underneath my feet; I clutched Negan's arm tighter and he smirked.

"Look at all of that," he told me as he looked out into the distance. "It's beautiful, right?"

He smiled down at me again, rubbing my hand that clung to his forearm. I wanted to let him go, but I feared I might lose my balance and fall if I did. Or that he might push me to my death. I held onto him tightly.

"Everything you see from up here is mine," he spoke again. "Every last square inch you can see, even beyond what you can't see, it belongs to me. I own every speck of dust and shit from here to fucking China for all you know. And because of that, sometimes I have to do depraved things to keep my people in check. And I am in charge of a fuck ton of people."

"Tell me something I don't know," I replied.

"You see, Everly, I don't think you understand the gravity of what it is I have to do around here to keep shit in line," he let me go and settled his back against the handrail, leaning down so that he rested on his forearms. His eyes met mine. "I saw the way you looked at me when I melted that asshole Mark's face. I saw the way you and everyone else in that room looked at me. It's not easy being me despite how differently you might regard the fact. But let me ask you, how else can I hold my power if I don't instill a little fear in them?"

"Um, I don't know," I crossed my arms and shrugged my shoulders sardonically. I took a step closer to the wall behind me. "Perhaps leading honestly, fairly, compassionately? I feel like we've already discussed this."

"Yes, some," he agreed and smiled, "but you still give me that look like I'm the worst fucking thing to ever walk the Earth."

"Who says you aren't?"

"Fuck, I don't know. Maybe I am," he admitted and shrugged easily. "But what about Rick and your family?"

"What about them?" I asked.

"Carl and I had a nice long chat, got to know each other's histories a little. He told me quite a few things about himself, about Rick, about you and Daryl. You know what he told me? He told me that he shot his own mother. I don't know what you think," Negan held his hands up with a smile, "but that shit just screams mental health issues to me. I'm pretty fucked up, but I ain't that fucked up."

"You have no right to compare yourself to him. That situation was completely different from anything you've ever done," I snapped, my voice starting to shake.

"I don't? Because it seems to me like he's killed people, I've killed people, Rick and his goons have killed a whole mess of people. Why am I the only one who has to carry a stigma around?"

I kept my mouth closed. He had to know perfectly well the difference between himself and everyone else. We had killed to survive or make our chance of survival that much higher. When there was a threat, we took care of it. Negan did it for control and for fun; he was perfectly comfortable in his position. We had never been a threat to him. Not a major one at least…

"You know I'm right," he said, straightening up and coming to stand just in front of me. I felt cornered. "I might be the bad guy, Everly, but so are you, and Rick, and every other motherfucker still breathing. The end of the world doesn't exist to bring out the best in people. That's why it called the end of the world."

Edited by lolasskicker.

*cue TWD theme music* I don't know. I felt like that last line was kind of profound, but maybe it's just me, haha. I'm slowly getting back on track and I'm working to keep it that way so installments can be regularly updated. Sorry this one was a bit later than usual, but it happens.

I'm behind on the show. I watched two episodes last night, and I think there are only three left for me to see, but I realized (and I should've known this before) that my story is going to go farther than where the show is going to end for this season. I think you guys are aware that I'm sticking to the main premise of the show/comics, and I want you guys to doubly know that how my story ends will be similar to what happens in the comic books (possibly the show, too). So, with that in mind...I may spoil next season for you. Granted, I have no idea where AMC is going to take everything. Something completely different could happen! I have a feeling, though, it's going to stick to the main story line of the comics as it typically does. I need to give out this warning because I'd hate to ruin anything for those who have only watched the show.

On a different note, welcome to all of my new readers! I'm glad you're here. And high fives to all my original readers still kicking it.

Okay, new readers can have a high five, too.