Naomi

I hadn't given much thought to what it would be like to see the Sanctuary again. Truthfully, I had tried to avoid thinking about the place at all, so I guess it shouldn't have been a shock that my heart dropped when we came in sight of it. Cracked, shot-out windows. Only some of them had been boarded up. Most materials had been diverted to plugging the hole where a garbage truck had been lodged.

It had always been tall and cold, but it looked different now. Beaten, but not yet dead. Waiting like an injured animal to strike out at those who'd wounded it. I scanned the shattered windows and almost expected to see Negan there.

Wounded, but not yet dead.

Waiting.

"You good?" Daryl asked, quiet enough that the others wouldn't hear.

"Yeah," I said, glad for an excuse to tear my gaze away from the building. "You?"

"Better when that place is nothing but rubble," he said with a shrug.

"You bring the gasoline; I'll bring the matches," I said with a half-hearted laugh. I was pretty sure that wasn't in the plan. Rick was looking to build something, not destroy it, and as much as I hated that place with every fiber of my being, I knew he was right. Daryl, on the other hand, might take some convincing.

Sanctuary was probably a cold and soulless place before the Saviors called it home, but I don't know if the people who came to work here back when it was a factory had quite the same sense of dread walking up to the doors as I did. So long spent planning and fighting and dreaming of getting out. And now I was walking back voluntarily. Letting Daryl walk back in, too, after fighting to get him out. It had occurred to me, more than once, that the Savior's surrender might have been a lie. Maybe the real ambush was letting us think we'd won, leading us here where Negan could launch the final attack.

The people left behind were ready for us. But not to fight. The workers, farmers, and kids who'd lived at Sanctuary without once picking up a weapon were waiting for us. Arat had let them all know over one of the walkies that the battle was over, and they had lost. So they all gathered on the main factory floor to watch us come in. They must have seen us coming, marching over the hill toward them. Their eyes followed us as we came in, but they said nothing. Stony silence. I knew from my time here that some of them had wanted this, had almost been willing to pick up arms against Negan. But it certainly hadn't been all of them, and that was before Daryl had flooded their home with Walkers. The hole in the wall might have been boarded up, but the damage was still visible.

Some of the group split off from the rest of us, searching the Saviors for concealed weapons. Daryl hesitated beside me, clearly worried that something was about to go down, but my feet carried me forward. The thought of stopping made me feel sick.

The corridors that snaked away from the main factory floor were empty. Silent. That was somehow worse. I wished the workers had been moving around them instead of gathering on the old factory floor to stare at us as we walked in.

Without any noise, without people bustling around, Negan's absence filled the silence. Every shadow took his shape for a moment before sinking back into itself. In my mind, he stood behind every closed door. I wanted to open them, to reassure myself that the prickle on the back of my neck wasn't because I was being watched; it was all in my head. But I didn't stop. I think I sped up.

My feet hitting the ground, even as I was followed by a group of our own people, didn't seem to make even half the impact that Negan's boots had. The way they'd echoed in these corridors. How many times had that been the noise that had woken me up, the one I fell asleep in fear of hearing? Now I was the one marching to find him, but I didn't feel like much of a hunter. I still felt like prey.

Occasionally, the wind would blow through one of the bullet holes in the windows we'd shot out, and it would sound like the start of that whistle.

That Negan-whistle.

That fucking whistle had pierced these halls so deeply the building itself knew it.

I didn't know who was still following me and who'd peeled off from the group to do other things around Sanctuary. I had one mission, and every part of me was focused on it.

My stomach lurched as I reached the door. I think Daryl offered - or more likely demanded - that he go first, but I wouldn't let him. I had to face whatever was behind that door. Whatever state Negan was in, if he was lying in wait or barely alive, it was my mess to clean up. And I'd make sure I finished the job this time.

The infirmary was empty.

The bed was in the middle of the room. Neatly made, sheets pulled taught like it was waiting for its next patient. I swung around on my heels, desperately searching every dark corner of the room and every space large enough to hide a human. I expected Negan to leap out of one of them, lunging at me with something.

Daryl, Rick, and Michone stared back at me. There were others in the corridor behind them, but there was no one else in the room.

"This is where Dwight said he'd be?" Daryl asked. I could barely hear him over my blood rushing in my ears and my pulse pounding in my head.

"This is the infirmary, right?" Rick asked me. I could only nod. My mouth was completely dry. Rick shrugged, "Then, yeah, this is where he said he'd be."

I couldn't understand why Rick was so calm. Felt like the ground was tipping and moving under my feet, turning to quicksand.

Daryl's eyes met mine, and I knew he felt the same as I did. He'd spent enough time in this hell-hole, been drawn into enough of Negan's mind games, to learn not to let his guard down just because things looked safe. That was often when they were at their most dangerous.

"Where is he?" I hated that my voice shook when I asked, but it stirred something in Daryl. He sprang forward. Warm hands on either side of me stopped me from sinking down into the earth.

"We'll find him," he said, like a promise. "He ain't gonna getaway. We'll tear this place apart, and we'll find him. And then I'll kill him."

He's always been so good at that - calming me down. Didn't matter what the issue was; whenever I felt that overwhelming riptide tugging at my toes and the waves rising up too high, he could pull me out of it. He does it so well that I didn't even argue with him about which of us would kill Negan when we found him. I just nodded, and it was enough to give me the strength to push forward.

I left the infirmary and made a beeline for Negan's room a few floors above us. If he'd recovered enough to be moved from the infirmary since the last time Dwight had seen him, this was where he'd be. The others followed, running to catch up. The clatter of so many feet in the corridor would've warned Negan we were coming, but I didn't care. Let him cower in fear of my footsteps this time.

I burst in there. It was dark. The heavy curtains had been drawn across the windows, and the room was as messy as I remembered. Filled with hiding spaces, too, a closet, boxes of stolen luxury goods, cupboards.

I crouched down, lifted up one of the sheets, and peered into the dark under the bed. The ghost of my past self lying in wait for Negan was all the shadows held. By the time I straightened up, the others had joined me in the room, and we're looking in every other place that might conceivably hide a human being. I marched to the curtains and threw them open. He wasn't behind them, but it flooded the room with a light that might chase him out.

Nothing moved. Negan still wasn't in here. But, in the newfound light, I saw small dark stains on the bedsheets. It took me a moment to realize it was blood, dried so long ago it was almost black against the white.

He'd been here.

But how long ago?

The bedsheets were crumpled and in complete disarray. Like someone had left in a hurry.

The Saviors had seen us coming with enough warning to gather in one place. All it would take was one person who was still loyal enough to Negan to run in here and tell him. He'd have had enough time to flee. Or be moved to safety.

Or find a better place to lie in wait.

On the floor near the bed was a stain the color of rust. More dried blood, badly mopped up. I felt a little sick when I saw there was a little space in the bloodstain where my body had lain for a moment, pinned underneath Negan as he drenched us both.

Naomi: 1, Negan: 0.

"The hell is this place?" Rick asked, holding up a bottle of whiskey to the light so he could see how much was left.

"Negan's bedroom," I said, already heading toward the door.

"What? How'd you know that?" Daryl asked, but I was already back in the corridor.

"Hold up!" Rick called after me. I stopped, turned. "If we're going to search this place, we need a plan. A system. Different groups sweeping different floors."

I agreed, if only because I knew arguing would waste even more time, and I had no real plan in mind. Negan could be anywhere.

I'd only seen a small part of Sanctuary when I'd been here. So searching the place for him became a short tour of everything I'd already witnessed and the areas that had been kept hidden from me. The living quarters of Sanctuary workers I'd never been privy to, the meeting room that Negan had gathered his Outpost heads in to decide if I should live or if they should cut off my head and send it to Rick. A kitchen, Eugene's ammunition factory. The Savior's dining area, a room I'd never forget.

My breath caught in my throat.

A bed with a metal bed frame pushed up against the far corner. Two buckets - one for washing, one for shitting. A nail on the wall where a mirror had once hung before it smashed across my back. Another rust-colored bloodstain on the floor.

Negan 1, Naomi: 1.

Now what, asshole?

This room felt colder than the others. I folded my arms and did my best to suppress a shiver. Couldn't look away from that stain.

"You found something?" Daryl asked, never far behind me.

"No," I said, but there was a moment where I couldn't take my eyes off that stain. Felt like it was growing, seeping deeper into the concrete. Daryl stood beside me, stared down too.

"What's that?"

"Blood."

"Reckon it's Negan's?"

"No. It's mine."

Before either of us could say anything else, our group had to move on to check the next room. But something in me knew Negan wouldn't be there. We scoured every inch of Sanctuary and couldn't find any sign of Negan. Not his leather jacket. Not his boots. Not his shit-eating grin.

"Maybe he's dead," Rick said when we all met up again. I could tell people around us had started thinking it the more rooms we'd searched that turned up empty. Now Rick had finally said what they'd been thinking out loud, they nodded.

"Dwight said he was alive," I reminded him.

"Maybe he died after Dwight last saw him," Rick said. "Or maybe Dwight lied, and you really did take him out."

Usually, I had a lot of respect for Rick, but I found it hard to bite back the urge to call him an idiot. I hoped it didn't show on my face, but I didn't have much hope for that either.

"Every piece of intel Dwight passed to us was correct," I said. "Right up until Simon tricked him. Why would he lie about this?"

"I don't know," Rick admitted, and it became clear in "But we've searched every inch of this place. The Saviors have surrendered, the war is over, and Negan's lost. Probably fled the place."

It made more sense than Dwight lying, but Negan had a lot of pride. He'd walked around this place with so much arrogant swagger, a real cock of the walk. But he'd been winning then. Maybe when the chips were down, he really was a coward.

"Maybe Simon killed him," Rick offered his best explanation yet. "To stop him coming back and trying to regain his power, might not even have told Dwight that he'd done it. Especially if he was already onto the fact that Dwight was working for us."

There wasn't much in that theory that I could argue with off the bat. Simon was power-hungry and violent. He'd been getting tired of the way Negan was dealing with Rick… but, when you thought about the loyalty that Negan's cult of personality had bred amongst so many, the holes in Rick's theory started to show. Simon would have to make Negan's death look natural. If anyone knew he'd killed Negan in a weakened state, he'd never have won the respect of Negan's most loyal followers. The Saviors would've fractured, warred with themselves.

By the time I'd thought of all of this, Rick had already moved on. I tried to settle myself with the idea that Negan was the kind who'd run. Always thought he'd die before he let Rick take this place. Thought Rick would die before he gave up the hunt for him, too. But here he was, gathering everyone on the factory floor and declaring victory for us. Telling the Saviors how things were going be from now on, how we'd rebuild the communities that had until yesterday been at war with each other. Sounded impossible. Looking around at the way some of them were glaring at Rick, it really felt impossible too. His speech might have been good, might have convinced a few of them, but I barely listened. I stood on the walkway above them and looked down, feeling like I was floating out of myself.

Right when I needed it, Daryl's hand on the small of my back and a quiet, "Hey," grounded me again. I wasn't alone. It's easy to forget that sometimes, ain't something I'm used to.

"I just don't see Dwight lying about this," I whispered to him, even though Daryl hadn't asked.

"He might have wanted to make you feel better," Daryl said, and I looked at him. His eyes were still fixed on Rick and the group below us, so I couldn't tell if he believed that bullshit. "Y'know, in case you regretted it."

I felt like I'd fallen into an episode of the Twilight Zone. Dwight wanted Negan dead; we'd plotted how we'd do it so many times. He knew I wanted it too, and he didn't strike me as the kind of guy who'd feel the need to shield me from anything. "Why the hell would he want to do that?"

"Probably sweet on you," Daryl muttered, which was as typical as it was ridiculous. I'm sure he thought he said it was under his breath, but I still caught it. I didn't dignify it with an answer, I shot him a look, and he got all defensive, "What? Never liked the way he looked at you."

"You don't like the way anyone looks at me," I said. And he couldn't argue much. Rick, Glenn, Bryce, Lucas - half the men in this room he'd freaked out about for no reason at one time or another.

"I'm the only one who should be looking at you in any kind of way," Daryl grumbled.

"You are," I said. "Everyone else is just making occasional polite eye contact. Can't stop them from having eyes."

Daryl muttered something which could've been, "Wanna bet?" But it was genuinely under his breath this time, so I can't be sure. Michonne glanced up at us with the same look teachers used to give us when we talked too much at the back of a classroom, and we fell silent, not wanting to undermine whatever Rick was saying. I was sure it was all the right things, but I was too jittery to listen. Instead, I spent the time scanning the Saviors for anyone who might have been loyal enough to Negan to help him escape. To hide him.

Every now and then, a few of them would look up and stare at me. Fold their arms. Shift from foot to foot. At first, I thought it was because they recognized me from all the times I'd been working the fence or from my long stints in their windowless cell. But then it dawned on me that was only part of it. Some, if not all of them, must know it was me who'd slit Negan's throat.

Was this why Daryl was so paranoid about who was and wasn't looking my way?

They stared at me, and I stared right back. Didn't feel a lick of fear about it. Did that make me brave or an idiot?

Then I caught a glimpse of Daryl beside me. Feet planted firmly on the ground, shoulders broad, and chest puffed out. He didn't move a muscle, but he glared around at every one of those Saviors like he was daring them to see what happened if they tried something. If they said something. Looked at me wrong.

You can't feel unsafe when you have backup that good.

You are the absolute best, I wanted to say to him, but I didn't want to risk another cutting glare from Michonne, so instead, I leaned into him a little. Moved my hand real close to his until our little fingers touched and entwined like we were making a pinky swear.

I swear, no matter what comes next, we'll get through this together.

Rick set up patrols and lookouts all around the parameter of Sanctuary, but I wasn't convinced it would be enough. Negan had lived and breathed this place for so long. If there were secret ways in and out, if there were places you could lie in wait, he'd know about them. He'd be there. If he wanted to launch something while we were all asleep, he could. At least Mia and Perla were safe back at the Hilltop and due to meet us at Alexandria with another group the next day.

I knew I wouldn't sleep here, just like I knew that even if Negan never showed his face again, I'd search for it in every Walker I came across until I was old and grey.

Sleep didn't seem like it was on the agenda for anyone. The Saviors were led away to somewhere we could easily keep an eye on them, make sure nobody came or went without us knowing about it. Once they were gone, everyone else relaxed. Rick even brought out a few whiskey bottles from Negan's room and started passing them around like this was some kind of celebration. There was chatter and laughter and talk of what came next. Negan's name wasn't mentioned again.

After a while, I had to take a step away from it all. Found myself wandering the corridors until I ended up in the room we were keeping the Saviors in before the trip back to Alexandria tomorrow. The effort to rebuild the community would take as many people as we could get, and the Saviors were going to help repair the damage they'd made whether they liked it or not. Most of them were very clearly on the 'not' side of things. You could still hear the sound of laughter from the main hall, but this was the only room that felt as gloomy and apprehensive as I did. I knew they'd resent me being in there, but it was better than pretending I was at ease out there.

"What you doing in here?" one of them asked me. "Shouldn't you be living it up with the rest of them?"

"Don't think we got much to celebrate," I said, and I could tell that surprised him a little. "We still lost a lot of people, and all of our shit got destroyed."

"What about us?" the Savior asked, glaring at me with steely blue eyes. "We lost a lot of people, all our shit got destroyed, and now you're taking our home too?"

"We ain't taking your home," I said. "We just need some help rebuilding Alexandria. You can come back to this shithole when we're done."

"What, so we can work ourselves to the bone for Rick the prick?" he said. "I'd rather you fucking shot me now."

"It ain't gonna be like that," I said. "Rick's trying to build something that works for all of the communities. He ain't a selfish asshole like Negan. Ya'll will be fine."

He stood up tall then like he was the one I'd called an asshole and not Negan. "The fuck do you know about Negan?"

A damn sight more than you.

"Justin," Amber said, a slight warning note in her voice. "Leave it. She's the one who took him out."

"That was you?" his eyebrows shot up so far they nearly joined with his long, greasy, brown hair. "Surprised you had the balls to come back here."

I couldn't tell if that was a threat or if he was impressed. Amber was clearly glad to be rid of Negan. She and Mark had been wrapped around each other since we'd arrived. Even now, as she'd stepped forward to stick up for me, her hand was still clasped in his. Mark's face was still hearing from the iron. His scars were red raw but no longer bleeding or blistering. When I looked at him, he offered me a twisted smile that reminded me of Dwight.

I caught myself wishing Daryl hadn't sent Dwight away. He hadn't said it, but I was pretty sure that was what he'd done. They had a lot of bad blood between them; I doubted Daryl would be able to deal with seeing his face every day. But, after all that he'd done, killing him didn't feel like the right choice either, and I knew Daryl. I knew he'd do the right thing.

Plus, there was a whole-ass truck missing, which was a pretty big clue.

"I can stay with my daughter? We will… get our things back?" an older woman standing next to Amber asked timidly in broken English. She had an accent I couldn't quite place, other than it was maybe eastern-European. It took me a second to realize that it must be Amber's mother.

"Yes," I said. "Of course you will. This move is just temporary. Did Rick not tell you that?"

"He did," Amber said. "But we don't know Rick, or if he can be believed."

"Rick's a good man," I said. "A fair leader."

"We all thought the same about Negan once," Amber said. There was a ripple of something around the room, an intake of breath that seemed to say 'some of us still do'. I looked back at Amber's mom, whose biggest concern was not being separated from her family again and getting back the few personal possessions she owned in this world. Most people in Sanctuary were probably just like her.

Even if Negan was out there plotting his return, all we had to do was prove that our way was better than his, and he'd have no support left in these walls.

"Negan had some things right," I said. That seems to shock them into paying attention to the rest of what I had to say, even if they weren't before. "People are a resource. But he exploited that resource - exploited all of you. And we're not going to do that. None of you will be split up from your loved ones. Food will be shared equally. Punishments will be fair and painless. Rick is a leader, but he ain't a tyrant like Negan."

I'm not sure how much of it Amber's mom understood, but she looked less apprehensive than she had a few minutes ago.

"You expect us to believe, after everything, that you're going to give us all an equal share of things?" Justin sneered at me.

"Why should I give a rat's ass what you believe?" I said. "It's gonna happen whether you believe in it or not, and you'll feel like a damn fool for having this conversation."

Justin looked at me like I'd slapped him, but somewhere in the room, I heard a few Saviors chuckle. It was the first time I'd felt positive about anything since we'd got here. The best way to stamp out Negan, and his legacy, was to show the Saviors that there was a better way. That we weren't going to treat them the way they would've treated us if the war had gone the other way.

"Are y'all hungry?" I asked. They stared at me like it was a trick question. "Thirsty?"

Nobody answered. I looked directly at Amber, the only one here I'd had much to do with when I was a prisoner myself. She hesitated and then said, "Nobody's given us anything, but we could do with a bit…."

She trailed off. Others around her were clearing their throats like they wanted her to shut up. Like admitting they were hungry was a weakness, or they expect me to bring them the same dog food sandwiches they'd made Daryl eat. It was tempting but would undermine any progress I was looking to make here. I nodded, "Give me a sec."

I ducked back out of the room, past Jerry and Morgan, who'd been guarding the doors, letting them know I'd be back. I followed the sound of laughter and chatter back to the main room and tapped Rick on the shoulder.

"Hey," Rick said, sounding surprised to see me. His eyes were a little bright, like he might have had one swig too many of Negan's whiskey.

"We gonna feed those assholes or what?" I said.

"Who? The Saviors?" Rick asked.

"Yeah. They gotta eat," I said. "Gotta give them some water too. It's a long way to Alexandria tomorrow. If we don't want them starting a fight or making a break for it mid-journey, we need to make sure their basic needs are met."

"The hell do you care if they make a break for it?" Daryl asked.

"We need them," I said, and then seeing him bristle, I rephrased it. "We need people to rebuild everything we've lost."

"Everything they destroyed," Rosita snapped.

"Most of the people in that room are farmers," I said. "Workers here. Non-violent. They didn't have anything to do with the destruction of Alexandria. God knows we need people who can build and know how to produce food. Hilltop can't sustain us all forever."

"She's right," Maggie said. I could tell she hated saying it, but she was speaking on behalf of the Hilltop now. Their food resources could sustain those who lived there with a little bit leftover, but there'd come the point where she'd have to prioritize her people and cut others off. "We need every farmer and every piece of farmland we can get."

"Alright," Rick said. "Good point. I'm sure there's some stuff we can spare."

We were in the process of going through the Savior's supplies and packing up anything that we could take with us to Alexandria. We'd moved a lot of it when we fled, and judging by the flames we'd seen, there wouldn't be much left of anything we'd left behind.

We took a pile of food that would be hard to transport through to the Saviors. Things that were fresh now would spoil in a few days, and anything half-opened might spill. We filled some of the water barrels they had set up in the dining hall and took them through too. The Saviors looked at the food with suspicion as we laid it out, but soon even guys like Justin had started picking up pieces and nibbling on it.

As for our side, not everybody helped. Rosita and Eugene hung back, and I got why. If I'd lost Daryl the same way Rosita lost Abraham, I doubt I'd have been able to stand this place without burning it down. Eugene was the reason many Saviors were dead; I could see why he'd want to limit contact.

Rick, Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Carol, and the King helped me sort food and take it through. Daryl carried the water, his arm muscles bulging under its weight in an extremely distracting way.

I was so distracted by it, in fact, that I didn't notice the King approach me. I jumped when he started speaking and felt my cheeks turn red at being caught drooling over my own boyfriend.

"This is both a charitable and an intelligent endeavor," the King said, and I could tell by how uncomfortable it made me that it was a compliment. "Kindness will erode remaining loyalty to Negan far faster than cruelty."

"That's what I'm hoping," I said quietly, watching the Saviors pass food amongst themselves and start to eat. It was easy to tell this way, who was a family (biological or found) and who wasn't. People shared with those they cared most about, and watching them made it easy to pick out smaller groups among the mass of them all.

"You know the Kingdom was once a school?"

"Yes..." I said, unsure of the relevance.

"I have great ambitions to return it to a place of learning when Alexandria has been restored, and all of this has found quiet."

"Oh. Yeah?" I glanced at King Ezekiel. I didn't know him all that well and couldn't for the life of me work out why he was telling me his plans. But he was beaming just thinking about the educational paradise he planned to build.

"Bryce has told me all about your own academic prowess," the King said. Another compliment. This was my worst nightmare, and I'd need to have a word with Bryce about what he was and wasn't allowed to tell people about me.

"Yeah, I did okay in school," I tried to shrug it off and prayed for the end of this conversation.

"Better than okay is the impression Bryce has given," the King said. "And clearly, you have patience for difficult people and an ability to see the wider view of things. These are all qualities I think should be taught to the next generation. They are our future, after all. This is all to say that there would be a place in the Kingdom for a mind such as yours."

"Are you offering me a job?" I asked. With all the compliments and the King's archaic way of speaking, my head was starting to spin. He smiled slightly at the word 'job', which of course, wasn't quite right. It's not like we were about to sit down and negotiate a salary and benefits. Holiday days and insurance.

"I merely think our outlook and goals are aligned," he said. "And wish to extend an invitation for you to join us. Take your time, mull it over."

"Thank you," I said. I didn't know what else to say. I'd always pictured us in Alexandria when this was over, and it was rebuilt, but there was no real reason we had to settle there. Getting Mia back into some kind of education felt like an impossible dream. She'd like to be close to Bryce, too. But… My gaze slid over to Daryl, who'd just put down the last of the water barrels and was already looking for me.

"Yes," the King said with a deep and throaty laugh, answering my unasked question. "You can bring him, too. I dare say our children would benefit from his wild wisdom."

"Yeah," I said, filling with so much pride and affection for Daryl that I couldn't keep it off my face. Hunting, fighting, tracking… these were all things kids would need to know now, and there wasn't anyone better at those things than him. Plus, Daryl was great with kids.

Daryl made his way over to us, frowning because both of us were smiling at him.

Daryl

Naomi had been quiet for a while, but she kept taking these big deep breaths like she was about to talk, holding them for a moment and then letting them out in a long sigh. I know her well enough to know that meant she was building up to saying something and didn't know how. So, I waited. Rushing her could make it worse.

"So, I was talking to the King…." Naomi said. She didn't look up from where she was kneeling on the ground, concentrating on lining up the bricks up just right. But the way her voice rose at the end, I could tell this was something she'd been building up to saying. Probably rehearsed it a lot in her head.

"Oh, yeah?" I said. I've found it's best to say as little as possible until she's got out whatever it is she needs to say. Otherwise, I can accidentally get my lines wrong from the script she's rehearsed in her head, and she can get real cross.

"Yeah, a while ago, actually," she said. "Back when we were in Sanctuary. Anyway, he kind of suggested that maybe he'd like us to go and live in the Kingdom when all this is done."

"That's...nice of him," I said, but I'd be lying if I said I was fully following this conversation. As far as I knew, Naomi and the King liked each other but weren't exactly joined at the hip. I'd thought she might want to stay here when all this was done.

"Yes. Well. He weren't just being nice," Naomi said. She was getting kinda flustered, which meant that even that small response had deviated from the way she'd had this playing out in her head. I looked down at the bucket of cement and pretended I was concentrating real hard on spreading it evenly across the top it the line of bricks so I wouldn't laugh at her as she continued. "He wants to turn the Kingdom back into a kind of school, and he's looking for people to help teach the kids. Things they'd have to have known before this, but also things they'll have to know now. How to protect themselves, how to build things…."

"How to dig limestone outta that quarry and turn it to cement?" I offered another example, one we'd only recently learned ourselves.

"Yeah," she said. "Thank God for Eugene. I'd have had no idea how to get this done otherwise."

"You wanna do it?"

"Make cement?"

"No, dummy, teach at the Kingdom," I said. Although I was only asking to be polite. It was a great job for her, those kids would be damn lucky to know what she knew, and she'd finally have an excuse to get her nose back in a book.

"I dunno," she said, and I thought she was kidding. But she stopped what she was doing and stood up, wiped her dusty hands on her pants. I stopped what I was doing too and straightened up, waited for her to go on. My back ached from a day hunched over, and the break was welcome. Naomi didn't say anything, eyebrows knitted together. She looked genuinely worried.

"I'm sure if you don't want to do it, the King will understand," I said, unable to figure out what she was getting so worked up about.

"Well, on one hand, it could be great, y'know," she said. "The kids can get back to school, back to learning things. And we've got a real chance here to teach them things that'll help them survive in this world but also build a better one. It's fucked up now, but it's not like the old world was any less shitty. Kids like Mia, Perla, Carl, and Enid. Judith. Little Gracie. They're the future, and they can make something way better than the way things are now. Better than how we had it."

Her eyes had started shining at just the thought of it. I'd seen that look before, back when we were younger, when she talked about us getting out of our crappy situations. When she spoke of all the changes that needed to be made to stop other kids growing up like us.

"You about to announce you're running for President or taking a teaching job?" I teased her.

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes, but she was still kind of smiling.

"So what's on the other hand?"

"What?"

"What's the problem?"

"Oh," she said, and that smile faded to be replaced by that same worried look. "Well, I dunno what your plans are… and I know we shouldn't… I mean, we don't have to be in the same place, but…."

"Only plan I got is to be wherever you and Mia are," I said, baffled that this was something she even had to ask.

"Really? You'll come with us?"

"Course I will, dummy."

"You sure?" she said. "I don't want you to have to be somewhere you ain't gonna be happy. But, the King and I were also talking about how someone's going to have to teach the kids how to track and hunt and stay safe, and I think you'd be great at that. It ain't that far from Rick and Michonne here or Glenn and Maggie at Hilltop. And, given the eyes Carol and the King have been making at each other, I would be surprised if she'll be there too. So, it's not just-"

"You ain't gotta sell it to me," I said. Naomi was talking faster and faster, and although it was nice she'd put so much thought into it, she didn't need to. "Deal's done. I'll go anywhere you want."

"Anywhere?" she took a little step toward me, a smile playing on her lips like she was about to lean in and kiss me.

"Yeah."

"Alright then, Caribbean cruise?" she grinned. Her arms slipped around my shoulders and linked behind my neck.

"I'll build the boat, and you get the compass," I said, and she laughed like I was joking, but if she asked me to build her a boat, I would. I moved to take her waist, waited until she nodded, and then wrapped my arms around her, hands resting on the small of her back.

"I ain't told her yet, but I think Mia will like it. It ain't too far from Lucas and Perla, and she'll get to be near Bryce again too," Naomi was on the verge of looking worried again. "I know he ain't your favorite, but -"

"I like Bryce," I said, wondering how many times I'd have to say it and then remembering how close I'd come to punching his lights out the first time I met him and thought there was even the tiniest chance he was sleeping with Naomi. I could see why she might take some convincing.

"Really?"

"I mean, we ain't braiding each other's hair or anything, but I'd like to get to know him better," I said.

"Your hair is getting about long enough to braid," she said and ran her hands through it. I loved how comfortable she was with shit like this now. She still smiled when she did it like she couldn't quite believe it was me she was touching or kissing, but that was fine because neither could I.

When we'd been starting things, she'd been real hesitant, but now she took my hand or put an arm around me or ran her fingers through my hair without pausing first. At night, when I'd crawl into bed next to her, muscles aching with exhaustion and sure I couldn't stay awake another second longer, she'd roll over and kiss me. Pull my arms tight around her. And I suddenly had all the energy in the world.

I loved it. I loved everything about it, this life with her.

"Think I should cut it?" I asked her.

"Nah," she said, and I almost couldn't handle the way she was looking at me. Sometimes her smiles are too pretty, and I feel like I can't look directly at her, or she'll blind me like the sun. "I like it wild."

She said it right before she kissed me. Even in the heat, we wanted to be closer to each other. She pressed herself against me at the same time I tried to pull her closer, and my hands slipped from the small of her back. I grabbed her ass. Accidentally, I swear, but she kissed me deeper like she liked it, and I didn't move my hands.

"Oi, lovebirds!" someone yelled. "Hope you two aren't slacking off!"

Fuck's sake.

Embarrassment ripped us apart, and we turned to find Rick and Michonne grinning at us like a pair of damn hyenas.

"What, we can't take a damn break?" I said.

"A break, huh," Rick repeated, still grinning from ear to ear. "Is that what you call that?"

"Well, what are ya'll slacking off for?" I asked. "Ain't you got a wall to repair?"

"We've finished ours," Michonne said. "What's taking you so long?"

"I bet I can take a guess," Rick said.

"That's a shoddy-looking wall, Rick," Naomi said. "You brick it up with your eyes closed?"

Rick laughed, enjoying the fighting talk, "We'll just have to see which one stays standing the longest."

"Fine," Noami shrugged. "First gust of wind, and that wall's coming down. This one'll outlive you."

"Will it even be up before I'm in the ground?"

"We're taking our time with it, so it don't end up as weak as yours."

"Well, if there's anything you two are experts in, it's taking your time," Rick said. "If that's what makes a good wall, that'll be the finest in Alexandria."

"Damn straight."

"Alright," Michonne held her hands up to stop both of them. "We actually came over to let you know that Noah's fixed the power and the water."

"No way!" Naomi gasped. We'd gone so long without power and water, we'd kind of forgotten Alexandria had any to begin with.

"Yup, should be back on by tonight," Rick said. He and Michonne moved on to keep spreading the word, and Naomi and got back to repairing the wall. A little more red-faced and giggly than she had been before.

Rick was right; we were taking longer doing this than they had. Most of that was down to Naomi. Everything she does is perfect, and that perfectionism makes her take her damn time. Sometimes it bugged me when it was schoolwork, and I wanted to do something more fun. But most of the time, it was something I really loved about her. A lot of folks rush things, ignore the little things.

By the time we were done, Alexandria was getting dark. I don't know if someone had arranged it or if it was impromptu, but people started gathering in the center of town. All of the chatter was about the lights and water.

When the lights all around Alexandria flickered on, a cheer rang up through the crowd like we'd all just seen the most incredible firework display of our lives. This was a big step in getting Alexandria back up and running. Most of the houses that could be repaired and salvaged had been fixed up by now. Some would take more time, others that needed to be rebuilt entirely, but we'd reached a point that a large enough community could live here.

Once the Kingdom and the Hilltop communities left, there would be a lot more space. I still wasn't clear what Rick's plans for the Saviors was, maybe he'd keep them here to finish the rebuild, but it really felt like things were winding down. After weeks of backbreaking work clearing the rubble of Alexandria, mining the nearby quarry for materials, and repairing houses with the sun beating down on us all day, people were relieved.

I got why some folks would be glad it was ending, but I didn't mind the work. It was physically exhausting all day, but seeing something you'd built at the end of it felt good. Especially given how long we'd just spent destroying things. And I got to do it all with Naomi at my side. Talking and laughing with her made the time go real fast.

My only problem with the last few weeks had been how damn busy it had all been. Alexandria, the Kingdom, the Hilltop, and the Saviours all in one place. It was cramped. There was no damn privacy. It wasn't just shit like Rick and Michonne catching us kissing; Naomi and I never had a moment alone. At night, everyone was crammed into the few houses left standing. So even when Naomi rolled over to kiss me in the dark and shot that lightning bolt of energy back through me, I couldn't do anything about it.

Kisses stolen in pauses in work or quietly in the dark before sleep. Her hand taking mine sometimes under a table when we ate together. That was all we had. Or moments like this, when the lights came one and everything came to a stop so we could marvel at it, and I could put an arm around her, and she could lean her head on my shoulder and murmur, "Nice to see it all it up again, huh?"

"Yeah."

"And the water… I am going to have so many showers," Naomi said. "Gonna be in there for a week, coming out all wrinkled like a raisin."

"A whole week?" I laughed. "Don't know what I'd do with you gone that long."

"You could always join me," she said. She said it quietly so people around us wouldn't hear, but it was so quiet I thought for a second I'd imagined it. I glanced at her, caught a little glimmer in her eye, and knew I hadn't.

Naomi and me. Alone together. In a room with a lock on the door. Heaven.

Before I could respond to her to tell her that she'd always been a smartypants, but this was her best idea ever, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Rick. He wasn't grinning this time. He looked pretty serious. "Hey, Daryl, you got a sec?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, but I was immediately a little uneasy. I kissed Naomi on the forehead and said, "Be right back."

I followed Rick away from the people gathered in the center of town. On the way, we passed Mia, Perla, and Carl, who were goofing around at the back of the crowd like teenagers should. When she saw me, Mia jumped up and down and waved. I waved back and found that I might have caught a little bit of Naomi's optimism. This could be the start of us building a world that did right by these kids.

Rick and I walked for a bit in silence, stopping by his old porch on the first house we'd stayed in here. I wondered if this would become his house again. We sat down on the step, and I waited for him to talk.

"We're almost done here," Rick said. "Well… we've done enough to start getting a lot of these folks out of here."

"Can't believe how fast everything's gone up," I said. Felt like time had flown by here.

"I know," Rick said but barely took a moment to celebrate what an achievement that was. Whatever this conversation was, it was serious. "So, the King will be taking people back to the Kingdom in a week or so. Maggie and Glenn will lead the Hilltop back around the same time."

"Okay," I said when he paused. All of this seemed pretty obvious so far.

"I think, moving forward, it's really important that all of these communities work together. Share what we have so people aren't desperate enough to go back to fighting," Rick looked at his feet. "And to do that, I need some of my people in each place."

"Okay," I said again. It sounded like he was sorted. Should I tell him Naomi and I were heading to the Kingdom too, so he wouldn't have to worry about only having one person there?

"Kingdom and the Hilltop are covered. So, that just leaves Sanctuary..." Rick trailed off. Looked in my direction.

"Let it rot," I said. I wasn't sure why this was a problem. Certainly not one that required a private conversation.

"The Saviors need a place to live," Rick said.

"Do they?"

"Yes."

"Maggie's cages ain't big enough?"

"No. And we want these people to work with us now," he said. "They've helped rebuild Alexandria; there's been little sign of trouble. We can't lock them up now. This is peacetime."

"So, you're sending them back to the Sanctuary?"

"Yes," he said. "And for it to work, I'm gonna need someone there to run things. Someone I can really trust."

It took me a second of Rick staring directly at me to get what he meant.

"Me?" I looked for a sign that this was the worst-told joke in the world.

"I can't think of anyone I trust more," Rick said.

"Nah," I said. I almost stood up and left right there and then.

"I'll be there for the first few weeks, make sure things are set up, and we've got ways to keep them in line," he said like we were negotiating something. "But after that, I'd like to pass it off to-"

"Are you deaf? I said no."

I couldn't believe that he was asking me to go back there. To live and work in a place where my girl's blood was soaked into the concrete.

"Daryl, think about it," he said. "Please. Carol's going to the Kingdom, Maggie and Glenn are already set up at the Hilltop -"

"So ask Michonne."

"I need Michonne here with me," Rick said.

Fucking hypocrite.

I'd known that would be his answer before he said it. But I wanted him to say it.

"So you get to stay with your girl, but you don't mind sending me away from mine?"

"I thought you could take her with you, Daryl," Rick said like I was a damn idiot for not thinking of it. "You make a great team."

I know he meant it as a compliment, and it wasn't untrue, but Rick didn't get our team. Not really. Our team was, before anything else, formed to protect each other. And that meant keeping Naomi out of Sanctuary.

"I know it's a big ask, but I can't think of anyone better for the job."

"Can't ask her to go back there, Rick," I said. "I won't."

"Daryl, I'm sure she'd-"

"I won't," I said again. "She was in that place way longer than I was."

"That could be a good thing," he said. I almost smacked him. "Naomi knows them better than the rest of us; she saw how that palace was run. You saw how good she was with the Saviors when we got there. Calmed them down, helped get them to cooperate. She'd be a real asset out there."

I think it was the word asset that made me snap.

"They beat her, Rick," I said. Could hear my voice shaking, but I didn't much care. All I could think about were those damn purple marks all over her when she got back, and I felt like I was bruised. "And not just once. Not twice. A lot. Starved her. Kept her locked in a damn supply closet. I ain't taking her back to a place like that just because you think she'll be useful to the people who did it to her."

"It'll be different this time," Rick said. "You'll be the ones in charge."

I shook my head. He didn't get it - the ghosts that can follow you when you've been through something like that in a place like Sanctuary.

"You saw her face when we didn't find Negan," I said. "You think she's gonna be able to let that go if we're living in the damn place?"

"Negan is probably dead," Rick said. "When he doesn't show up again, she'll see that. She'll relax."

I almost laughed. Throw the word 'probably' into a sentence, and Naomi would never relax. She'd always been a worrier, to put it mildly. And I hadn't seen that kind of fear in her eyes before. Life or death, like if Negan was out there, he was going to kill her for sure. And as much as Rick clearly thought that was crazy, she was right. If Negan was out there, he'd definitely try.

He would fail because he'd have to get through me.

But he'd try.

It had take days after leaving Sanctuary for Naomi to feel like herself again. I wasn't taking her back into that.

"Naomi's tough," Rick said, trying another tactic.

"You think I don't know she's tough?" I snapped.

"You might think you know it, but you don't act like it," he said.

"You don't get it."

"Yeah, I do," he said. "You think I don't worry about Michonne out there? God, when I heard her screaming that day Negan and his army came here… when I saw her all…."

"Yeah," I said quietly. "I remember."

It was hard to forget the way her eyes had almost swollen shut. The bruises on most of her body. Michonne had been lucky to survive.

"And then she took herself off bedrest to go back to Sanctuary with you and your damn plan to drive a truck through a wall…." Rick said, shaking his head a little. "I was worried sick when she told me she'd done it. I thought she'd made a terrible choice. But, at the end of the day, it was her choice to make. And I respected that because I respect her."

"I respect Naomi, too," I said, not much liking what he was implying. Even worse was the sharp twist in my gut that could have been guilt. Did Naomi think I didn't?

"I know you do," Rick said. "But sometimes your...worry about her... overtakes that a little."

"Maybe," I admitted. I could tell Rick was choosing his words really carefully.

"Also, I think you're underestimating how much say you're going to have in all this once you tell her," Rick said like I'd already agreed to go. It was then I realized that he wasn't giving me much choice. Saying no to this would let down more than just Rick. It would fuck up his whole plan of rebuilding our communities and bringing them together. And wasn't that what Naomi wanted most of all? Building something better than we both had? I got it. I supported it. I'd just never seen myself as an important part of making it happen. But Rick did.

"You ain't gonna drop this, are you?"

"No," Rick said. "Sorry. I need you there, Daryl. I know it's a hard job, but you're the only one I can think of who's tough enough for it. Who won't be afraid to punish the Saviors if they step out of line. Sanctuary will be hard work, I know that. That's why I need my right-hand guy there."

I appreciated what he was saying, but I could feel my heart sinking because I knew I couldn't say no.

"You really can't think of anyone else who can do this?" I asked.

"No," Rock said. "But look, we can try it for a few months, and if there's no trouble from the Saviors and you're really not happy there, we can talk about moving someone else in."

"A few months," I repeated.

"A few months, that's all I'm asking," Rick said.

I tried to tell myself it wasn't that long, in the grand scheme of things, but already I was picturing someone new coming along. Some amazing person at the Kingdom would swoop in and steal Naomi away from me. Could you fall out of love in a few months?

There was no way in Hell she was coming with me. I'd seen the excitement in her eyes when she talked about what she could do at the Kingdom, the raw hope. I wasn't going to let her throw that away and watch her lose her mind searching for Negan's ghost at Sanctuary.

No way.

I'd thought this was the end of us being apart. Thought now the damn war was won, we'd have time to be a proper family. Me, her, and Mia. Without any other bullshit getting in the way.

Looked like I'd have to wait a bit longer.

I'm taking her on that damn date before I go if it's the last thing I do.

"If I'm doing this, you gotta help me with something," I said.

"Sure, Daryl," Rick said, a little apprehensive. Maybe because I was still glaring at him. "What is it?"

I looked away from him, didn't want to see his face when I asked. "I wanna bake something."

"You wanna what?" Rick asked like there was no way in Hell he'd heard me right. I rolled my eyes and repeated myself. Rick threw his head back and laughed.