It takes a while to get where we're going, but we do get there. We find a high rooftop in a small industrial village a few miles out from the Sanctuary, the factory's towering facade visible on the misty horizon.

Sasha hasn't asked me what I'm going to say. I think that's because she knows me better than I know myself sometimes. She doesn't know what I'll say, but I think she already somehow knows what will happen after I say it. I want to ask her. Ask why she's letting me. But I know that she won't spoil the ending, not this one.

Sasha hands me her walkie-talkie when I ask, and then sits with her back to an air conditioner on the muck-covered rooftop.

I keep my eyes on the factory in the distance, standing on the edge of the building.

"Negan?" I ask into the walkie. "Negan, it's Rhys."

There's just static.

"I know you're there," I sigh. "I know you can hear me, and I know you'll answer. So just pick up, asshole."

When there is an answer, it's Negan himself.

"Rhysie! I. Have. Missed. These chats. Rick or Carl there with you? Why don't you put one of them on?"

"This isn't about them," I tell him. "It's about me. I've got a message for you."

"Well, I can't promise not to kill the messenger."

Sasha chuckles to herself in that annoyed kind of way.

"What an asshole," she mutters.

"I've already sent the message," I tell him. "Your thirty-eight men are dead."

"What?"

Negan sounds furious in his deep grumble. It makes me feel sickeningly better about it all. It's the one bit I told Sasha I would say. I was worried it might be giving away too much information. But Sasha said it doesn't matter anymore, since Simon told us they were dead weight anyways.

"You killed most of them," I tell him. "With your arrows and the walkers. Some of them stayed and joined us. The rest... I killed them."

"You killed them?"

I can hear his teeth grinding down the receiver.

"I was there. Got two of them."

"That make you feel good about yourself, does it?"

"It's what you did," I hiss. "You killed Mikey! Burnt our home. People I care about are infected because of last night."

"You're wrong," Negan says, sounding strangely genuine. Almost sad. "Last night... I wasn't there. Simon took things too far, and I swear on my sack that he has been dealt with."

"I don't care..."

My words are arid and catch in the back of my throat like dust trapped between the pages of an old book. I've been rehearsing what I'm going to say the whole journey here, but I still feel myself welling up.

"I think they're right..." I tell him, clearing a sob from my throat.

"Who's that?"

"Carl and Mikey," I whisper, my voice shaking. "Carl still wants peace. Mikey wanted it."

"You want peace?" Negan asks me the same question he had before.

Sasha watches me very carefully as I pull the walkie-talkie away from my face. Watches me as I take a minute to stop crying before I respond.

"I really want to want it."

Negan hums low and in the back of his throat.

"But... I can't," I tell him. "I don't know how. I don't know how to forgive you for what you did to Glenn and Abraham."

I know Negan can hear me crying now, but I keep going.

"I want to let it go," I say.

I tell him like he's my therapist. Like he's Denise, back in that kitchen infirmary in Alexandria that burnt to the ground. Like I'm asking for his help.

"I can't do it."

Then Negan responds.

"Then don't."

His voice is gravel rubbed against the sand. Gritty scratches that growl and drag his words from their cave.

"That's why I like you, kid."

I can hear him grinning.

"You're a damn spitfire, Rhysie. That flame, I don't want it to burn out. It's too damn fun."

"I know what I have to do," I tell him.

"What's that."

"I'm going to trust them," I say. "Mikey and Glenn... they would have wanted to find peace. I'm going to honour that now, even if I don't believe it. I'm going to go back to Carl, and I am going to honour them and him."

"Ha... ha... ha... what about what you want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want," I tell him. "I know what I did was wrong today. I'm lucky that I have Carl. I guess I'm sorry you don't have that."

Negan chuckles.

"A boyfriend?"

"No, asshole. Someone that stops you from going too far."

"Don't you think killing my men was already too far?"

"No... I think it just happened. Killing you would be too far."

"So you're pulling out of this fight?"

"I'm not doing it my way anymore. I'm going to follow their lead."

Negan laughs at that like it meant nothing. Like my words sound as hollow as his have.

"Nah... I saw your eyes that day. When I had your people lined up in Alexandria, and you came at me... no guns, no knife, just your giant, swingin' balls. I saw it in your eyes, Rhys. That fire in your belly. That killer in your gut. You don't put that shit on a leash. And I'm gonna prove it to you... right now. Go ahead, kid."

I don't know what he means by that, and I feel a chill roll down my spine as I hear the walkie-talkie changing hands on the other end. I can feel the blood rushing in my head. I don't get what he means until the radio speaks to me again.

"Rhys?"

I pause for a long time, because that's not Negan's voice. It's Mikey's voice. It's his actual voice. Small and terrified.

"Mikey?"

But he doesn't speak again. I know it's real because Sasha's on her feet and staring at the radio with eyes that shine back the sting in my gut.

Negan speaks, and the timber in his growl makes the walkie-talkie shake in my hand.

"You better hope you don't change because after all this... there is no getting out of it now. I wouldn't accept your surrender if you came to me on your knees. See, winning isn't about beating you. Winning is about killing every last one of you. That is starting over. I never wanted this. Rick made this happen. You tell him that. No more talk."

There's a muffled bang on the other side, then a repetitive clicking sound.

"Mikey?" I finally ask again in the smallest of voices — just in case it's not real.

But all I get back is static.

A/N

DUN DUN DUNNNNNN