Newly Revised
"Well, I, uh..." the man named Gregory stuttered from across the table as Negan looked on bored as all hell.
He'd spent the last few days rallying his forces, making sure guns and bullets were in the right hands, waiting to see what Rick's next play was. He had been trying to make plans as to how he was going to deal with everything and how he was going to get the communities to fall back in line. One thing he knew for sure was that when all was said and done, Rick, the Widow, and the King would be a part of his landscape and Ani and Daryl and their little spy girl were going to be coming back to the Sanctuary whether they liked it or not and working for him. He wasn't giving them the choice; Negan or not, they were going to do what they were told, or Alexandria would suffer for their choices. They wouldn't break when threatened with each other, well, they certainly would at least bend for their precious community. And even though he didn't relish in threatening a child, once that baby was born, they'd have no choice but to bend the knee for real, to become 'Negan.' It was just his luck that he had this sniveling little coward here in front of him to help him make it all go away and get him back his prize.
"I'd just like to start by saying thank you for having me today," Gregory said, drawing Negan's attention back to him. When none of his lieutenants nor he deigned to answer him, the man nervously chuckled and continued, "Negan, let me lay this down straight for you. I know how it is, negotiating the slippery, steep terrain of managing resources and the population and the big, scary u. Which you might know. It's called the Unknown." Playing with Lucille was honestly more interesting than listening to the geezer drone on playing kiss ass as Gregory tried once again to gain his attention, "Listen, I-I mean it when I say it—Negan, I don't like killing people any more than you do."
"I like killin' people," Negan contradicted with a grin.
"Oh. Well, I-"
"I say it's about killin' the right people," he continued. "See, you kill the right people, at the right time...everything falls into place. Everybody's happy. Well, some people more than others. But you kill one, and you could be saving hundreds more. And that is what we are all about. We save people."
"That's...That's why you're called the—the Saviors. Oh," Gregory said as if he'd just had an epiphany, causing Negan to tap his nose with a charming smile.
"I'm gonna grab a smoke," Dwight said, standing up.
"Now?" Negan asked. "You don't wanna hear this?"
"Don't need to," he told him. "Tell me where to go and what to do, I'll make it happen."
Negan chuckled and waved him off, liking the sound of that answer very much before he turned his attention back to Gregory and asked, "Where were we, Gregory?Oh, that's right. You were tellin' me that you don't like to kill people, and I was saying that I do—under the right circumstances."
"We-Well, this si-situation that we-we find ourselves in," the man stammered. "This—this conflict...I can stop it before it even gets started. I mean, here it is. I go to my people, I tell them i-if you join in with this...this mislead crusade, you're no longer citizens of the Hilltop. You're out on your asses."
"You're still their guy?" Negan asked doubtfully. "They still listen to you, Gregory? Can you exile people?"
"The Hilltop is my house," he said defiantly. "I'm still the guy. I've always been the guy."
"Huh, if you are the guy...if, indeed, you have always been the guy, then why the hell didn't you know about the Widow leading an army of your people straight up my ass in Alexandria?" The look on his face, the guilt, the terror, the obvious lack of eye contact those who were confident in their response gave all told Negan what he needed to know about the man, "You know what I think, Gregory? I think you're playin' both sides. I think you're a thin dicked politician threading the needle with your thin, thin dick. Now, is listening to you the right way to go? Or is it the right place and time for something else?"
"No, no. Not trying to do that. No," Gregory started stammering again. "I-I wasn't a-aware o-of things until they were already in-in motion. N-No hesitation. Allegiance. Right there. The whole thing. It's just...I-I didn't know u-until I-I knew..."
"Gregory," Simon said in assurance, putting his hand on the older gentleman's arm in support. "Hey, I believe you. Now make Negan believe you, yeah? Hmm?"
Gregory cleared his voice and reiterated, "The Hilltop is mine. I let a fox into my hen house. She and her people took advantage of my generous nature. One even attacked me in my own office for no good reason! You can see my nose! I see that I made a mistake, and I will fix it."
"We go in with the right stage picture," Simon offered. "A thick and veiny show of force surrounding Gregory when he lays down the law, I think things go back to being copacetic. If they don't, I say we take a flyer around the place and kill all the men eighteen and older. Supply them with a fresh stock of our forces in the morning to keep them safe and get back the working order. It's unfortunate, but it'll send a message to the other communities and we will achieve equilibrium. Plan A. Plan B-"
Negan pounded Lucille against the table they were all sat at to get attention, grounding out, "People are a resource." Banging the bat again he stated, "Money on the table," while standing. Hitting the table to emphasize his words, he shouted, "People are the foundation of what! We! Are! Building here! You already lost a colony with that plan and allowing orders to be miscarried. Who the hell do you think you're talking to? Are you confused about who we are? Are you confused about who is in charge? Are we back slidin', Simon? Please, tell me we're not back slidin'."
"We're not back sliding," Simon told him. "This is a pronounced event and a fragile moment."
"Hell, yes it is," Negan said with a sinister smile after a tense moment before standing tall again. "We need to win it all. Plan A is takin' Rick, the Widow, and King Ass Face alive and makin' them dead in a very, very public and instructive way. We kill the right people in the wrongest way possible," he bellowed, "and we make 'em all watch!"
No sooner had he closed his mouth and went to sit back down did gunfire go off, three rounds by an awful lot of guns from the sounds of it. He cautiously walked over to a window and looked at the onslaught of people in the courtyard just outside his fence. It was only four days after Rick's little coupe de gras in Alexandria and yet here they were with cars decked out to stop bullets. He had to say, they were as quick and efficient as Eugene had been with melting the walkers to the fence with their little ingenious armor plates and damn if it didn't sour his day all to hell. If things hadn't already been absolute shit with how things had gone down with the colonies during the first fight, he might find it amusing. Those jackasses had brought a damn tiger into the affair and Ani's fucking bobcats had managed to maul almost as many as the damn big cat. He had to figure out how the hell those assholes had managed to train up a trio of wild animals to the point that they hadn't once gone after those fighting their owners, for lack of better term. It pissed him off how those people kept getting lucky and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why the hell they were so dead set on fighting. Negan wanted to keep people going and if it took bashing a couple brains in, yet here these people were, getting their panties in a twist all over Red and eyeball guy. If they need me to show 'em again, I guess I'll show 'em again, he thought to himself when Simon stepped up behind him.
"Should we get our people out there?" Simon asked. "Line 'em up, light 'em up?"
"No," Negan told him. "They've got some sort of hillbilly armor. We'd just be wasting metal on metal. And the RPG is stashed at the cache, so...let's have ourselves a chat. Simon, bring your new little friend. We may need him to say some words," he told the man before heading to the door that lead outside.
"Gregory, you're on deck," Simon told the man.
"Gary, put three on three at the windows. Tell them to stay the hell down 'til we need them," Negan commanded before opening the door. "Well shit! I'm sorry. I was in a meeting. I see you got your little mudflaps with ya. So I'm not exactly feelin' a reason for us to try throwin' lead at each other. I care about my people. I don't wanna just march them into the line of fire because I want to play 'my dick is bigger than yours.' It is. We both know it. But I'm also comfortable enough to accept the fact if it wasn't. I mean, Daryl's schlong damn near puts mine to shame and I'm completely okay with that. Puts into perspective why some people are so damn stubborn, you know? But I'm certainly not gonna let my people die over that shit...like you're about to," he warned, pointing his bat out at them. "So, Rick, what the hell can I do for you?"
"You're Dwight," Rick called out, making Negan chuckle to himself as the man tried to turn his outpost leaders against him. "Your name's Simon. You're Gavin. And you...?"
"Regina," the woman standing with Negan responded.
"Rick, I'd feel remiss if-"
"No," Rick said, cutting Eugene off with a glare. "I know who you are. Listen, you five. The Saviors inside. All of you have a chance to survive here. To survive this. Y'all can live if you surrender. I can't guarantee it anytime but now. Right now," he said, watching as Eugene slapped a hand to his forehead and Negan smiled.
"So they surrender," he surmised, "and you and your little piss patrol doesn't kill them. That sounds like a good deal! What about me, Rick?"
"I told you," Rick said. "Twice. Ani's told you. You know what's gonna happen."
"I do, if it's you," Negan replied cockily. "If it's Ani? Well, I doubt she'd go through with it! I mean, she's not even here, is she? There's a reason for that, you know. But I do know what's gonna happen. You don't. You have no idea the shit that's about to go down. Let me ask you something, Rick? You think you have the numbers for this fight? Ya don't," he stated plainly. "Simon." Simon walked back into the doorway and did some elaborate gestures with his hand, bringing out their trump card, Gregory, who stood next to Negan as he put his arm around him. "What do you have to say to Rick and the piss patrol, Gregory?"
"The Hilltop stands with Negan and the Saviors," Gregory called out. "Any resident of the Hilltop who takes up arms with or who supports this ultimatum against the Sanctuary or any of the Saviors, for that matter, they will no longer be welcome in the colony."
Negan looked smug as he said it, even though he knew that, inevitably, these people had chosen to come here and they knew what they were risking. They had to know they would never get out of this with something like a slap on the wrist like Rick's boy. Rick and his little rag-tag team of pissants
weren't going to hold up when it came to his forces. Hell, it didn't matter at this point whether or not the Hilltop stood down; they simply didn't have the forces to go against the Saviors. On top of that, if Simon thought for a second that he believed Gregory's little story, well, he wasn't as smart as he thought he was. Gregory was a slimy little rat that only looked out for himself and obviously knew what was going to happen before it happened. There was no way that he made it to Gregory's outpost after the attack at Alexandria took place if he hadn't known and simply let it happen. Negan wasn't stupid; he might not be able to tell someone's life story with a few words, but he sure as hell knew when he was being lied to. It was especially easy for people like Gregory who had absolutely no poker face and a rather meek and timid nature.
"And?" he asked.
"Their families will be thrown our and will be left to fend for themselves," Gregory yelled, though his confidence was clearly nonexistent by this point.
"And?" Negan said again, clapping the man on the shoulder, making him square up and call out more decisively.
"Go home now. Or you won't have a home to go back to!" Gregory looked at Negan and winked with a smile, waiting for everyone to leave.
"You heard the man," Negan said with disdain in his voice. "Go back to separating wheat and shit or whatever the hell it is that you people do."
"Doesn't look like anyone's goin', does it?" the Widow's voice called out.
"The Hilltop stands wi-" Gregory started, only to be cut off.
"The Hilltop stands with Maggie!" the male's voice sounded out, clear as day, making both Negan and Simon look over to the aging man with matching grimaces.
"I feel like I invested a lot in you," Simon said, walking up to Gregory and poking him in the chest, making the man back up. "And I am very, very disappointed," he said before he pushed Gregory down the stairs. "Sorry, Negan. I can't believe he fooled me."
"Well, even the best get done over by someone else sometimes. I mean, hell, look at this shit we're in," Negan told him, gesturing back out to the hobo armor plated goonies before an explosion sounded in the distance. "Sounds like shit is goin' down, Rick."
"You 'lieutenants'...you're gonna have to make up your minds," Rick told them.
"You think that maybe we could take a time out here?" Gavin asked, making Negan look back at the spineless worm.
"No," Rick denied. "This has to happen now. This is the only way. You're gonna make me count?" Rick called out as Negan's grimace turned even more sour, the words he'd once used on Rick being spat out that mouth now. "Okay. Okay. I'm counting. Ten. Nine! Eight! Seven!"
Where the hell six, five, four, three, two, and one went, Negan didn't know because every single one of the piss patrol was shooting their weapons up at the Sanctuary. The lieutenants ducked back into the Sanctuary while Negan himself had to throw himself off the damn stairway in order to keep from being shot. Glass fell all around him as he tried to cover himself from the shards and all he could do with all the gunfire was cower in his own courtyard. The gunfire started dying down slowly only to be replaced by horns blaring and echoing all around the buildings in the factory's vicinity. Negan had to quickly grab for Lucille and duck behind one of the larger concrete blocks in the courtyard as one of the people began firing directly at him, his guesses pointed towards Rick or the Widow. It all went to hell when pieces of gate, walker, and RV flew by him. His ears were ringing from the RV hitting the concrete in a large explosion and Negan fully realized how deep of shit he'd found them in. His leg had been hurt by the fall, he was trapped behind a damn dumpster as someone relentlessly fired on his location, and the only weapon he had was Lucille. The gunfire outside ended as the Sanctuary kept firing when Negan watched vehicle after vehicle drive away, the sounds of it quickly replaced by the sound of walkers. It wasn't long after that he managed to get to the administrative trailer the factory had on premise, but there was no getting out of it any time soon. The walkers had completely boxed him in without anyone to keep him company while he waited for his people to figure shit out until the door opened again.
Negan couldn't help but smile as he said, "I hope you've got your shittin' pants on."
"What?" the Father asked.
"Your shittin' pants," he said as he started walking forward. "I hope you've got them on...'cause you...are about to shit your pants," he chuckled.
Gabriel if he remembered right, swallowed in fear, his face doing nothing to hide his terror from Negan, which only made him smile. They stood there staring at each other for a moment before Negan charged at the man, tackling him to the ground; he wasn't taking any chances with Rick's people anymore. Wasting no time in taking the man's rifle from him, he commented on how handy it would be before continuing his search of the man. Negan found a knife and a pistol that didn't have a single bullet missing while Gabriel offered no resistance. He was even holding his hands up in surrender, which was actually rather disappointing in all honesty. He'd expected at least a little bit of a tussle, maybe both of them getting a punch or two in. The man had simply given up before the fight had ever even started and that was just no fun for Negan. Even Carl the Killer had made a move against him in a way that took two of his men out and this Father was pussying out. It made him sigh in exasperation as he put the pistol in the waistband of his pants.
"This one still has a full clip," he commented quietly.
"There wasn't any point in firing it," the Father replied. "I didn't have enough."
"Yeah, but you could've gone down fightin', you big baby," Negan said, trying to relieve his nerves of the craptastic situation he had found himself in by reverting to his joking nature and chuckling. "I'm just pullin' your dick, breakin' your balls a little bit. You done good. Smart play," he told him while standing up. "Let's get you properly on your ass."
Reaching down, he offered the Father a hand and helped him sit up before sitting down against the wall himself and putting a finger to his lips. They waited in the heat and silence and the stench as the walkers outside pounded against the trailer and groaned out their unalive status with every second that passed. It seemed like they had been waiting for ages when Negan decided that he couldn't handle the silence anymore. This was all Rick's fault because he simply wouldn't come to terms with the fact that the world was what it was and he had his part to play. It wasn't Negan's fault that he had to eat shit, it was just Negan's fault that the man would survive, that the little serial killer Carl and his little Spy Kid girlfriend survived. Kids like them, they were rare in a world like this where the split second decision of a person was the way to live or the cause of death. He'd seen so many kids wither over the months that it was a delectable surprise to find not one but two prime candidates for soldiers in such young people. And yet Rick the Prick couldn't stop himself from messing everything all to hell simply because he didn't want to take the easy route and accept his fate. The communities retaliation in general was really quite pathetic any way Negan looked at it.
"Your friend Rick's an asshole," he said suddenly.
"You're an asshole," was his reply, making him chuckle.
"Yeah, I am," he admitted. "But he's gonna get people killed."
"By you," Gabriel countered.
"See, I killed the Widow's husband. I had Ani kill her parents. But I didn't get them killed," Negan retorted. "That was your boy, Rick. Big difference. You know, I saw you stop for that Gregory idiot. You were there. You saw the whole thing. You heard his little speech and saw his busted face. Why would you stop for that bearded prick when even Ani wants him dead?"
"What I fear is a fruitless death," Gabriel admitted, looking down as Negan once again chuckled at him.
"Jesus Christ. You gotta be kiddin' me. He split on your creepy little ass. The point of your life would be saving that dickhead?" Negan asked him.
"That wouldn't be it," Gabriel retorted. "There had to be some reason I did what I did," he said before looking up and over at Negan with that spooky ass grin of his. "Maybe this is the reason."
"What?" Negan asked in confusion.
"I think...I'm here to take your confession," he said confidently.
That smile had Negan all kinds of weirded out as he looked at the Father in contemplation, the creepiness of his facial expressions with that damn collar sending shivers up his spine. He didn't know what the hell the man was thinking, saying he was going to take his confession as if he had something he had some sin he needed to let go of. The only person he'd ever confessed to was his wife, maybe Ani, but hey, she was a shrink and had gotten pretty damn close to the truth on her own. It was less of a confession and more an admission of what she'd already guessed and there was nothing wrong with that. Hell, the girl might even be able to get him over that whole moment and get him back to being that guy he was back then, not that he wanted to go back to being that weak, little, pussy-ass bitch that had to rely on his sick wife to take out walkers. But talking to a priest? Confessing sins? It was almost enough to make him full-on laugh if it weren't for the precarious situation they were currently in.
Rather than laughing, Negan simply stated, "We can wait it out for a bit. See if my people can figure something out. One thing that is sure as ass...if my people think I'm dead, a lot of folks are gonna die in there."
"Why?"
"Listen to me," he told him. "I don't have shit to confess. Except that I rubbed one out right where you're sittin' just to calm down a bit," he said with a smile and a chuckle. "Let me ask you somethin', why'd you become a priest?"
"I love God, and I love people," Gabriel answered him honestly. "I wanted to bring them together. To help people through their difficult times. To help them through their weaknesses."
"Well, look at that," Negan responded. "That's my thing. I like to help people through their weaknesses too. Been doin' it one way or another my whole life."
"Was making Ani kill her parents helping her overcome her weaknesses, or simply making her take revenge she didn't ask to take?" Gabriel asked contemplatively. "How do you help
people, Negan?"
"They got what they deserved, and she deserved to do it. I tried helpin' her overcome the fear of bein' around her parents by proving they weren't shit. Guess all it did was piss her off," Negan told him with a shrug. "You wanna know why people are gonna start dyin' in that factory? Because I'm not there to stop it."
The growling of the walkers got worse as they quieted down, the thudding against the trailer sounding like the walkers were about to break through. Negan couldn't help but fuck with the Father, who's face was honestly the most amusing thing Negan had to watch right now. Whistling his two-toned signature, he watched as Gabriel's head became a swivel and the man look like he was truly about to take a deuce in his pants. He quit whistling and chuckled at the fact that the priest looked like he was about ready to cry.
They sat in silence for a few minutes before Gabriel turned to him and asked, "You helped the weak before this?"
"Kids," Negan responded. "You don't show 'em the way, well, they turn out like garbage. Little assholes turn into big ones, so you show 'em the way. Adults, they need it, too—the government, laws, religion, guilt. People are weak."
"Everyone?"
"Everyone."
"You're weak," Gabriel pointed out. "Killing the innocent. Ani and I may have our disagreements, but she is right when she states that the innocent should go unpunished."
"Right and goddamn wrong," Negan told him, ignoring the comment. "I'm weak, but me killing the innocent? That ain't why, Gabey." He got up and moved just as a walker broke through the trailer and started reaching for them from another area. "We'll wait a little bit longer," he said, leaning against a wall and turning to Gabriel. "See if my people can pull it together. And Ani is as delusional as Rick if she thinks everyone can become one big, happy family after all this. The innocent, well, they're the only ones who are punished when people like Rick and Ani step onto their high horses."
"They have both done more to bring people together, to work together, than you have. And their way will be the way that allows that allegiance to last," Gabriel countered. "Why are you weak?"
"That's the wrong question. It is how I am weak. See the thing is, I am also strong. Everyone is a mix. You can use your weaknesses to drive your strength, and obviously, I am strong as shit. Only met one other person who was as strong as me and she was still too weak in the end to see it," Negan told him. "I took this place, and it was a damn free-for-all...a loose confederation of assholes, and army made up of gangs of animals, and I brought it all together. The last guy that was in charge, he wasn't in charge of shit. He allowed people to be weak. I don't. I make them strong, which makes this world strong."
"Some would argue that you only make some strong, while others you keep weak just to suit your purposes," Gabriel pointed out. "'A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.' Ani told us how the workers are kept weak, untrained, underfed in some cases, completely unarmed. They have no way of fighting for themselves and are kept under armed guard by your soldiers in a constant state of terror. They get beat and can be killed by your men through little fault of their own. How is that making them strong?"
"You'll see, Gabey," Negan said with a smile, though in his mind he was scowling at the fact that Ani had spoken down about his paradise. "See, I'm gonna make you my new special project. Gonna make you nice and strong, too. We're gonna find your special purpose. Hell yes, we are."
"I'm strong. I've killed," Gabriel told him. "I was at the Satellite station. I was a part of that."
"Oh," Negan said sarcastically. "You killed my people while they were sleepin'. Well, look at you, swingin' your dick. Sure, Gabe. That's strong. But that's not what I'm talkin' about."
"Tell me how you're weak," came his response, that creepy little grin back on the pastor's face once again sending a shudder down Negan's spine. "We might be dead soon. You might be dead. Don't you want to confess before all that happens? Wouldn't you want absolution before that? Forgiveness?" he asked, standing to look at Negan in the eyes as best he could. "Costs you nothing more than saying the truth aloud. You don't think you have anything to confess? People you've killed?"
"I haven't killed anyone who didn't need it," Negan countered.
"A sixteen year old boy from Hilltop? An expecting father? Why would these people need to be killed, if not for you deciding they needed to be? Who made you judge, jury, and executioner? You truly feel you have done nothing that you need to be absolved of? Nothing at all?"
"One person dies so many more live," Negan explained.
"The workers you treat as slaves?"
"It's an economy. Some people win, some people lose, but no one's a slave, no one's goin' hungry, and you couldn't say that before all this."
"I'm sure many do feel as if they were slaves. That was why Alexandria decided to fight, so that we would not be slaves under your tyranny. And that was the term Ani, Daryl, and Carl all used to describe the way the workers were treated. Carl even told us about your wives, the women you've pressured into marrying you. How if they want to leave, you threaten their families and burn their rightful husbands, if not kill them. They can't leave you even if they want to. How is that not a slave?"
"Every one of those ladies made a choice."
"That you pressured them into by using their weaknesses against them," Gabriel countered gently. "Surely, there must have been a first. One before all of this. A wife promised to have and to hold, forsaking all others. One you told that lie to."
Negan was too busy praying to Lucille to give him strength to notice the preacher coming up behind him, everything the man had said being true to a point, but oh so wrong. Sure, he pressured those women into staying with him once they made the choice, but that was because he was their best option. They each needed something that only he could provide, and they each got every single need and most of their wants met by being married to him. If they left him, well, they wouldn't be as well off; he might as well just send them right to the bottom if that's going to happen anyway, their family too. Because without him, they would fall behind, and then nothing could be done to save them and as far as the workers being slaves, well that simply wasn't true. Everyone had their role to fill, everyone had their job it wasn't his fault if they didn't do it well enough to keep up with their needs and that fact alone was Economics 101. Some people had to fail so the rest could thrive, which was just the way of the world, both before and presently. Gabriel took his distraction as a chance to seize his handgun back while Negan whipped around to grab at him and he ran to the only room in the trailer, slamming the door shut. The safety had been stupidly left off on the gun, the priest accidentally firing a shot in his quickness, really riling up the walkers outside. Walkers pounded against the trailer, one making it through the bottom of the vent as others tried breaking through the door.
Taking his anger out on the walker making it's way into the trailer, he whipped around and shouted, "Alright, Gabe! No one's coming for us. You took your shot—shots. It's time to go. We have Lucille to help us get to the Sanctuary," Negan told the man on the other side of the door as he started to pace. "We have that gun. We should use it. Most importantly, Gabriel, we have each other. People are a resource. We make it inside, we live." Walking over to the walker he'd killed, he pulled it into the trailer while informing the priest, "We can take a chance, we can 'gut up,' play dead ones across the courtyard. Or...Or I can just kill you. But that is not what I want. What I want is for you to work with me. That is all I ever want."
"I've killed before, but that is not my greatest sin," he heard in reply, causing him to sigh and roll his eyes, before his eyebrows rose at Gabriel's confession. "No. I locked my congregation outside of my church when all this had just started. I listened to them die. I failed them. I failed God. And every day, I work to lessen that failure, to be of service and purpose. Now I offer you the assurance of a pardon, penance, and absolution. I will go with you. I will show you that working together as equals is the only true way to grace, to a future. I will do this...if you confess."
"Jesus, Gabe," Negan responded. "What you did? That is some horrible, cowardly, spineless shit. But I guess that's what a confession's supposed to be, right?" he asked, leaning his head against the wall before confessing. "My first wife was my real wife. My only real wife. 'Til death did us part," he said, trying to keep in control of his emotions as he thought of his Lucille. "It was before this. I lied to her, I screwed around on her. And she was sick. And when she went...When she went, it was during this. I couldn't put her down. That is how I was weak. That is what I will confess. Because, yeah, maybe we do bite the big one here."
The door opened, Gabriel holding the gun out to him while saying, "You're forgiven."
"Thanks. You can keep your gun," Negan told the man after punching him in the face and grabbing up his knife, heading back towards the walker he had already killed. "Sucks, Gabe, but it looks like we got to risk eatin' it...by eatin' it."
"I don't understand."
"You ever done this trick with the guts before?"
"Mm-hmm."
"These are putrid, decaying organs, dead blood, piss, and shit that have been cookin' all day in the hot Virginian sun. You're people have never gotten sick from this?" he asked Gabriel, looking up at the man who simply zipped his coat up.
"We're from Georgia," he deadpanned.
"Look at you lucky shits," Negan chuckled, the look of disgust on his face as his leather coat was defiled by walker guts. "Let's make some noise," he told Gabriel wehn they were both sufficiently coverd.
Shouting and pounding against the walls and doors, the pair made sure to work the walkers outside into a giant frenzy, falling silent as Negan opened the trailer door. Both stood stock still as the walkers flooded in until they were surrounded and could slowly and carefully make their way out of the trailer and towards the Sanctuary. It wasn't until Gabriel tripped on a walker that the jig was up when another went after the priest when he stood up. Not even thinking for a second before he swung his bat and took the walker out, he started the fight of a lifetime as Gabriel shot walkers left and right and he let Lucille fly non-stop. He grabbed Gabriel to save him from a walker as the made it to the stairs only to be literally covered by walkers falling the same platform they were trying to get to. It was hell, but thanks to those falling walkers, they managed to lose the walkers that were trying to eat them, giving them just enough time to scramble up the stairs themselves. Negan found it odd that there wasn't a single worker down on the factory floor where they were supposed to be, holding onto Gabriel and cocking an eyebrow with pursed lips. It didn't take too long to figure out where the workers had gone, though, as he climbed the stairs leading up to the nicer rooms, more specifically, his own. Shouting and gunfire could be heard, Regina's proclamation of being Negan resounding through the hall before she asked if anyone else wanted a bullet. Negan couldn't have that as he started whistling before he even managed to get to the hallway, a smile forming on his face as he rounded a corner with Gabriel under his arm only to see everyone kneeling. Just the way it's supposed to be, he thought to himself, pushing Gabriel to kneel beside him as well with a chuckle.
"Ah, Regina," he said. "Now, why'd you have to go and do that? I am guessing that a lot of you fine folks thought I was dead, chewed up, never to be crapped out again. Well, here's a little refresher on who the hell I am. I wear a leather jacket, I have Lucille, and my nutsack is made of steel. I am not dyin' until I am damn good and ready. Now, if y'all would excuse me. I am in deep need of a sandwich, a shower, and some of that, uh, wilting lion orchid deep tissue shit that Frankie learned in San Francisco. Hell, I might even do it all at once! But after that, we've got some serious business to attend to," he told his people, pointing Lucille at Simon. "Like talkin' to my right hand man. You see, we gotta figure out how all this could've happened like it happened. And then...Well, and then we're gonna get back to doin' what we have always done. We will save people."
"Thank you, Negan," a woman shouted out. "Thank God for you!"
"And that is why I am here," he told Gabriel with a cocky smile, Gabriel's look of bewilderment at the woman's sentiment obvious. "Gentlemen," Negan said, addressing his men. "Gently take him to number two. Gently," he restated before walking away.
A show, a shit, and sandwich later, he sat in a fresh, white t-shirt as Laura slammed a bag of guns down on the table in front of him and the lieutenants, informing them, "The good news is we found out where that asshole's gun came from."
"And the bad news?" Negan asked her.
"They're ours," Gary, another Savior, replied. "Stolen from the armory. A worker couldn't have gotten this many guns without us knowin' about it."
"They couldn't have gotten one," Laura countered.
"No," Simon agreed, though he wasn't entirely too sure if he cared about someone feeding information to Rick's crew. "One out our own did this—is doing this, right now."
"Tell me how we find him, Simon," Negan told him.
"We...find when the munitions went missing," he suggested. "Through that, we get an idea of how, which hopefully leads us right to the who. We start with when," he reiterated, seeing Eugene look over at Dwight intently, only for Dwight to squirm in his seat. Looks like I found the rat, he thought to himself with a gleeful smile.
