More Than This

by Graveyard Whispers

Naomi Payton was Daryl Dixon's childhood best friend. In truth, they were each others only friend. But sometimes growing up means growing apart and when Naomi's ambitions and Daryl's loyalty to his brother drive a wedge between them, will the world falling apart be enough to bring them together again? Hell, will they even find each other again?

38. Politicians and Kings

Naomi

I'd heard Negan's boots in the corridor so many times that I knew it was him from sound alone. He'd walked past a few times without stopping, and each time he did, I braced myself for this to be the final one. For him to haul me out and string me up to the fence. I wondered if he'd kill me immediately or leave me to bleed out there. If he'd gather up a crowd like he had when he'd punished Mark. Whatever it was, I was sure it would be painful and humiliating, but at least it would be an end to all of this. I got frustrated that it was taking him so long, but the waiting was probably part of it. Maybe he was giving Daryl a few days to come back for me. Then he could get us both. Two for the price of one.

When Negan did eventually opened the door, his smile was back and as smug as ever. It made my heart sink down to my knees. He didn't say anything for a moment, just stood in the open doorway while my eyes got used to the sudden light. He'd left me in the dark for a day or two. I think. Without a window, it was impossible to know.

Dwight hadn't been thrown back in here with me. I'd started to think he was dead, but as my eyes adjusted, I saw him. Back by Negan's side. His injuries looked to be healing, and I couldn't see any fresh ones. Things were looking up for him, which could only mean they were looking down for me.

Sold me out then, did you?

"Alright," Negan said. "Out you come."

Something felt off. This wasn't anything like how I'd imagined this going down. Negan wasn't holding Lucille, and the only other person with him was Dwight. Disobeying him and not stepping out of my cell when he told me to didn't make him angry either; he laughed when I didn't move.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Forty-eight hours in solitary, and you've forgotten how to talk?"

"No," I said, but it had been so long since I'd said anything to another human being that my voice didn't sound right. Gruff, like I'd just woken up, although I'd hardly slept in there.

"Then what's the matter, huh?" Negan said like he was talking to a kid who didn't want to go to school and not a grown woman who wanted to rip his throat out. Then his eyes lit up like he'd had an epiphany, although I'm sure he knew why I was reluctant to step out into the corridor with him. "Oh, you think I'm here to kill you, huh? Nah. I'm not going to do that. Not today, anyway."

"You're not?"

"Nah," he said. "I know you didn't let them out. We're good."

You do?

Behind him, I could see Dwight. His eyes were fixed on me. What the hell had he done? And why? I took a few hesitant steps forward. Trusting anything in a place like this wasn't wise. I knew that. I knew better than to believe what was being said to me. I scanned Dwight's face. His eyes were wide, desperation tucked into the corners of them. His mouth formed one thin line like he was willing me to keep my mouth shut by sealing his own.

"Come on," Negan stomped his foot on the ground with gleeful impatience. "You've earned a stay of execution, Naomi. That's gotta be worth celebrating. Come on out and see me, sweetheart."

With no real choice, I stepped out into the light and stood in front of him. Almost toe-to-toe. He didn't move back to make room for me. Standing so close that I'd have felt more comfortable back in my cell. This was what he wanted. Negan liked it best when things were uncomfortable. I hated the way his fucking smile could twist up so much loathing in my gut, and how it always made it feel like he was winning.

"There she is," he said like I was a pet who'd come in from the cold. I didn't say anything, and my stony glare made his smile wider. Back to his usual, awful, self. "C'mon, I got something for ya."

Well, this can't be good.

He took hold of my arm and pulled me along the corridor. I followed, reluctantly, trying to yank my arm out of his grasp so that I could walk with some semblance of dignity, but he held on tight. Dwight walked behind us, still in Daryl's vest, and holding his crossbow. He trained it on me, but his finger was nowhere near the trigger. I looked over my shoulder at him as I stumbled along the corridor beside Negan. He shook his head slightly and pressed his fingers to his lips.

"Where are we going?" I asked, looking back at Negan. Dwight wasn't giving me anything, and even if he did, I wasn't sure I could trust it. Negan should be about to kill me; Dwight should have turned me in.

"I'm not telling ya," Negan said, his smile only growing. "That would ruin the surprise, darlin'."

Oh, fuck. What now?

"Oh, don't give me that look," he rolled his eyes, but I knew he enjoyed the suspense. Otherwise, he'd have just come out and told me what it was. "We went looking for your boyfriend in Alexandria and brought a little something back. Thought you might appreciate seeing a familiar face."

No.

My stomach dropped right down to my feet, leaving a cold and dread-filled space where it had been. Had Daryl gone back to Alexandria already? Would he really be so reckless?

I felt sick. I could imagine him flying off the handle when Jesus and Sherry turned up at the Hilltop without me. That lost, wild look he gets in his eye when he's hurting, and there's nothing he can do but get mad. I wasn't angry with him; I knew if our positions had been switched, and I'd gotten out of her without him, I would've felt exactly the same. I would've torn a world apart to get to him. I'd just hoped he'd be able to wait a few days before he started his crusade against Negan and the Saviors.

Negan took me to a room he'd taken me to before, back when he'd been trying to convince Daryl to join him by showing him the life we could have here together. One that looked free but wasn't. One that would leave Daryl as much of a broken shell as Dwight was.

Did this mean he'd caught him? That he'd put him back in this room? Was that why Negan wasn't killing me just yet?

No.

I couldn't do this again. I couldn't see Daryl cooped up in here, couldn't see him tortured and beaten. I looked at Dwight. His grip on the crossbow looked loose. I could get it off him, I could shoot our way out. Negan opened the door.

There was a man in there, but it wasn't Daryl. It was maybe the last person I'd expected to see.

"Eugene?" I gasped. He looked as shocked and frightened as I felt. Despite all of the creature comforts in the room, he looked like a lost puppy at the pound. He'd jumped at the sound of the door opening. He looked at Negan like he was here to put him down.

Negan let go of my arm. I knew he wanted to see what I would do, to see how much Eugene and I meant to one another and if that was useful to him. But I didn't much care. Truth was, we weren't close, but he was the first glimpse of home I'd had in a long time—a connection to Alexandria that I hadn't had since we left that awful clearing. I ran forward and threw my arms around him.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they-"

"No, he's just fine," Negan spoke for him while Eugine remained silent. I thought I could feel him shake a little. "In fact, he is the man of the hour."

I let go of Eugine and looked at him. Whatever Negan meant by that, it couldn't be good. Eugene still didn't say anything. There was fear in his eyes, and something else too, but I didn't know him well enough to name it.

"You okay?" I asked him again, doing my damnedest to shut Negan out. Eugene gave me a small, hurried nod, but I could see a tremor in his hands.

"I already told you, he's doing fine," Negan said, refusing to be ignored. "Doctor Smartypants has got a new job working for me. He's my new bullet maker."

Shit.

This was bad. Ammunition was getting harder and harder to come by. Hilltop barely had any; their primary weapons were spears and bows and arrows. Things that could kill Walkers quietly, but not easily fight off any kind of human threat. The Kingdom had looked like they were in the same boat, although I hadn't really stuck around long enough to ask. Part of what gave the Saviors their power was how well armed they were compared to other communities, and with Eugene on board, that power could be here to stay.

How had this happened?

Negan was so damn smug. Eugene looked down at his feet. He'd only recently become outwardly brave, and that had been when he was pushed to it or backed into some kind of corner. I wondered how this experience would shape his newly-found courage, or if it would extinguish it entirely.

"You might have noticed my girl Lucille is absent today," Negan said. Eugene flinched at the name. "She is on medical leave, on account of being shot by one Rosita Espinosa."

No.

I kept my eyes on Eugene, trying to work out if his short and sharp breaths were down to fear or grief. He and Rosita had been on the road together long before they'd met the rest of our group; if she was dead, he'd be hurting. His eyes were still fixed on his own shoes. I put a hand on his arm. I was aware of Negan laughing, but I was getting really good at tuning him out. If I was allowed to see Eugene on his own, I'd have to teach him how to do it.

"Is she dead?"

I thought Eugene shook his head, but his head was so far bowed as he looked at his feet, it was hard to tell the difference between that and when he'd nodded.

"Nah," Negan said. "I don't like killing pretty little badasses, not when they got guts."

My jaw clenched automatically as I held back my response. Negan laughed again.

"You can disapprove all you like, but it's what's kept you alive," he smirked. "I let Arat choose who should die for Rosita's sins, and she killed... what's her name? Nervous thing with a big appetite and access to all your food. What was her name?"

He clicked his fingers at Eugene, the same way asshole customers used to do to me in the diner. Eugene finally looked up again, his eyes were red.

"Olivia," he said, more to me than Negan. Eugene's hands shook, and his lip trembled. It was like a punch in the gut. Another person dead because of him. An innocent one, too. Olivia hadn't done anything to him.

Negan was harder to predict than most other folks, but I thought I was starting to catch on. Rosita had taken a shot at him. Many people would've killed her for that, but Negan got more out breaking people than killing them. He knew Rosita was ready to die for making a move against him; she wouldn't have tried it if she wasn't. So killing her wouldn't have been as much of a punishment as making her feel responsible for an innocent person's death.

Now, Rosita had to live with that. Negan could sit back and watch her either unravel or get stronger under pressure.

"Olivia," Negan repeated with her name with deep satisfaction. I closed my eyes for a second. "That's right. We killed Olivia, and now I'm sure your friends in Alexandria are about to find that their food rations go way up. No way is she dealing it out fair and square, huh? So, how about a thank you?"

"You're an ass," I snapped. I couldn't hold it in anymore. Olivia had always been honest, always kept meticulous records of the supplies coming in and out of Alexandria. She'd been soft, but she'd also been one of the good ones.

"Not a fan of that, huh?" he said. "Well, how about a thank you for saving your old pal Rick by taking out a spineless, gutless turd who wanted him dead?"

That doesn't make any goddamn sense.

"Olivia wouldn't-" I started, but Negan cut me off.

"Oh, I'm not talking about Olivia," he said. "I'm talking about that slimy son of a bitch who tried to butter me up behind Rick's back. A real clean-cut asshole who probably should've died when all this first started but was privileged enough to hide out someplace that was already safe, letting other people do the heavy lifting. Waiting until an opportunity came along for him to slither out of his hole. God, what was his name again?"

I was lost. The only other person Negan had killed that I knew of was Abraham, and he was none of those things. Eugene looked at me and said, "Spencer."

"Shit," I muttered.

"Spencer," Negan said, with the same amount of satisfaction he'd had over Olivia's death. "God, that guy was a slimy, self-serving ass, huh? Can't tell me you liked him?"

"Doesn't mean I think he deserves to die," I said, trying to avoid admitting that I had also found Spencer an annoying and self-serving asshole. But there were people in Alexandria who had seen Spencer as an extension of Deanna. Other, sheltered, people who didn't know how bad things could get and thought Rick was too ruthless and unpredictable. Would his death be seen as Rick's fault, in the same way that Negan hoped Rosita would be blamed for Olivia's?

"Well, I think that's enough chit chat for one day, huh?" Negan said, with that big, beaming smile that made me want to pull each of his teeth out one by one. As if Eugene and I had been chatting about the weather, and not which of our friends were dead. Negan told hold of my arm again and tugged me back toward the door. I caught the panic in Eugene's eyes as he did it and wondered if it was concern for himself or for me.

"Eugene," I called out to him. "You're gonna be fine."

I had nothing to back this up, no more escape plans. I was sure security around me was about to be tightened after my fellow prisoners had escaped, but I couldn't leave him with nothing. I couldn't let him stew in his own fear; Negan preyed on that kind of shit.

"C'mon," Negan said. "Time to go."

Eugene gave me one last, desperate look before the door closed between us. His dread seeped through the gap underneath it and hit me too. I'd worried about Daryl in here, I'd fretted over how he was being treated and how hurt he might be, but I'd never really thought that Negan could break him. Eugene was a whole other kind of worry. He wouldn't be able to withstand the physical pain that Daryl could. If Negan got the materials Eugene needed to start making bullets, would he really do it for him? Or, would he refuse and die?

We couldn't take another loss like that. Two more of our people had died, what state would that leave Alexandria in? Would it terrorize them all into further submission, or would it fuel resentment toward Negan and the Saviors?

But, we wouldn't survive a fight if Eugene got a damn bullet factory up and running, either. There was a limited amount of time that Rick could make a move against Negan and the Saviors and have a chance of most of us walking away from it still alive. That was assuming Rick was planning something, or that any plans he'd had wouldn't have been ruined by losing our only bullet-maker.

No matter what was going on with Rich, I knew it was only a matter of time before Daryl tried something. As much I'd have preferred it if he just forgot about me, I had to be realistic about what he'd do. Daryl wouldn't leave me here. He wouldn't move on from this unless he knew I was dead. I knew it because I would have been the same in his shoes. He'd be planning something by now, even if he was planning it alone. Something full of his reckless fire that could wind up getting him killed. Especially if he came back when Negan was well-stocked with bullets. There was a tiny window of time for anyone to act. And it was closing.

He has to die.

I have to kill him.

I looked back at Negan. He was watching me like always. He'd seen the dread take hold of me; he knew the calculations I'd be doing to work out whether my friends could still win. He was smiling. Always fucking smiling. He licked his lips, savoring my reaction to everything he threw at me like it was a goddamn ice cream sundae.

My hands were fists that I didn't remember making. I heard my foot scuff the ground before I even realized that I'd tried to take a step forward. Dwight caught my arm and tugged me back. Negan didn't even flinch.

"Woah, easy girl," Negan said like he was trying to tame some kinda wild horse. "Watch how you approach me, or Daryl's going to wake up to find your head nailed to Alexandria's gates."

All of his bullshit, all of the ways he messed with me, and the others would be his downfall. Even if he did slice off my head and give it to Daryl on a platter, his arrogant mind games would catch up with him. Whether it by my hand or someone else's.

"This worked out real well for you two, huh?" Negan said, waving a finger at Dwight and I. I glanced at Dwight and saw a flicker of nerves in his eyes. Neither of us was sure what he meant by that. "I got a prisoner without a guard and a guard without a prisoner. Dwight, you'll be keeping an eye on her from now on, you got that?"

"Yes, Sir," Dwight nodded. His face gave nothing away. He looked at Negan with the least amount of emotion I'd ever seen from him. A genuinely blank face. Negan liked that, maybe because he could read whatever he wanted into it, or because he knew Dwight better than I did and could tell that he'd broken him down.

"Good," Negan said, still grinning at us both. "Now, get her out of my sight."

He let go of my arm with a little shove that pushed me toward Dwight. Dwight's hand grabbed my arm in the same way, but his grip was a little looser. Negan grinned like a proud dad and then walked away from us both. I expected Dwight to lead me back to that dark and windowless cell where he'd been keeping Daryl, but he nodded his head toward the stairwell door and let me walk over there myself. He didn't say anything, kept glancing around at Negan's retreating back.

I waited until we were alone in the stairwell before asking, "What did you do?"

Dwight didn't answer right away; he pushed me toward the stairs and peered up at the higher floors between the banister, listening for anyone else who might be up there.

"I dealt with it," he said, once he knew the stairwell was clear. He glanced at the closed door to the corridor we'd just been in like he expected Negan to double back at any minute. Or be loitering around the corner listening to us.

"How?"

Even two days spent in dark isolation, where every moment that passed on the clock was painfully obvious, didn't make it seem like enough time had passed to explain Negan's sudden change in mood. It didn't explain why I was still breathing.

"He thinks it was Carson," Dwight said, which was possibly the last thing I'd expected him to say.

"Carson?" I struggled for a moment to place the name in context. "The Doctor?"

"Yeah," Dwight said, but he was being deliberately tight-lipped and still wouldn't say anything beyond that.

"And Negan bought that?" I asked. It didn't sound right. Why would he suddenly believe it was someone with almost no connection to the people who'd escaped? The change of direction was enough to give me whiplash.

"For now," Dwight said. I could tell he was hoping I would drop it, but how could I? I couldn't just trust that this was over. Especially not when it was coming from Dwight who, up until a few days ago, had looked like he was getting a real kick out of torturing us. Then, he sighed and added, "Negan found a note from Sherry in Carson's things. He put the pieces together from there."

"Yeah, pieces that don't exist," I said. I knew by the way Dwight wasn't looking me in the eye that he'd planted the 'note' from Sherry, but it still didn't sit right with me that Negan had just accepted Dwight's story. It was bull. "Carson and Sherry being in on this together doesn't make sense. Negan's not an idiot. This could all be some kind of test."

"It could," Dwight said. "But Carson confessed so, for now, we're off the hook."

"But…" I shook my head. It felt too flimsy to stake my freedom on. "He's innocent. Why would he confess? What if he takes it back?"

"Can't take it back, he's dead," Dwight said bluntly. My heart dropped. "Negan already executed him. So, don't worry about it. We're in the clear."

I stared at him in silence for a moment. Dwight had let an innocent man die. Negan had killed a man, a doctor, instead of me. Nothing about it felt as simple as Dwight wanted me to believe. But maybe it was a convenient lie for Negan too. He had someone to punish, which would put enough fear into his followers to stop any further disobedience, while still keeping me alive to use as leverage against my friends. It was a convenient lie for Negan to buy into, but it didn't mean that he believed it. Just that whatever he was planning to do with me was worse.

"Why do all of this?" I asked. "It would've been easier to turn me in."

Dwight and I weren't friends. A few hours locked in a room together hadn't changed that. Dwight's jaw clenched, and something in his eyes hardened as he fixed them on me.

"I wanna help you kill Negan," Dwight said. He said it quiet, but there was a gritty determination that punched every syllable. "You seemed pretty serious about that."

"I am."

"Okay," Dwight said like he was the one who needed reassuring. "Good."

I so badly wanted to believe him. Having someone close to Negan on my side could change everything, but you couldn't trust anything in here, especially if Negan was involved in any way. He and Dwight could've come up with this little plan together, as a way to get me to trust him, to get information out of me about Alexandria or my friends.

"I don't really care if Negan believes Carson did it," Dwight said. "As long as he at least pretends to believe it for long enough for you to kill him."

We reached a landing, and he opened the door to a familiar hallway. This was the way back to my first room here. The nicer one. It didn't make me feel any better. It just made all of this feel like even more of a trap.

"Why?"

"I want him dead," Dwight said simply. It felt too simple. But what did I have to lose? I was already living on borrowed time.

He opened the door to my old cell. I didn't step in, he didn't make me.

"If you're doing this because you want to join one of our communities, and be with Sherry again, I can't promise you that," I said. I didn't want to lie to him or give him any false hope. If he was serious about this, he should know what he was getting himself into. "I don't know how the others will react to you. Daryl, especially…"

"That's okay," Dwight said. "I'll take my chances. I want to make things right, I want to make sure he's dead. After that, I'll leave all of you alone. You won't hear from me again."

He looked serious enough that I voluntarily walked into that cell. I heard the keys jingle in his hand. I turned back to him just before he shut the door.

"Alright, then," I said. "Let's do it. Let's kill Negan."

Daryl

Gregory paced up and down in front of his big, dumb desk. I was glad he was at the other end of the room because if he'd been any closer to me, he'd have found himself walking into my damn fists. Every time Rick spoke, he shook his head, like the thought of taking on the Saviors again was too crazy for him to even let in his ear holes. I wanted to rip them off the sides of his head.

"Gregory, we already started this," Rick tried to remind him.

"You started it," Gregory replied.

Alright, well, fuck this guy.

"We did," Rick said, firmly, refusing to let Gregory weasel out of his part. "And we're gonna win."

"They're killers!"

Yeah, no shit.

"Is this how you wanna live?" Rick said. "Under their thumb, killing your people?"

"Sometimes, you don't get to choose what your life looks like," Gregory said. "Sometimes, Ricky, you have to count the blessings you have."

"How many people can we spare?" Maggie asked, "How many people here can fight?

"'We'? I don't even know how many people we have, Margret," Gregory said, making it clear he didn't think she had any right to call herself part of the Hilltop. Although, if you ask me, Maggie was a damn sight better suited to lead a group of people than he was. "And does it even matter? I mean... What are you going to do? Start a platoon of sorghum farmers? Cause that's what we got. They grow things. They're not going to want to fight."

"You're wrong," Tara said. "When people have the chance to do the right thing, they usually step up. I mean, people just-."

"Let me stop you before you break into song, okay?" Gregory said. "And by the way, who would train all this cannon fodder?"

Sasha and Rosita volunteered immediately. The way his face got all red with a mix of anger and embarrassment was the first moment that I felt like this meeting hadn't been a total waste of time. Watching assholes like Gregory squirm was always time well spent.

"Rhetorical!" he was annoyed that we had an answer. "Okay? I don't want to know. I never want to hear another word about any of it, ever."

Fuck this guy.

"Would we be better off without the Saviors, yes or no?" Rick asked, trying to word it in a way that he couldn't wriggle out of like a politician trying to dodge a question about an affair there was already proof of.

"Yeah. Okay. Yes," Gregory admitted.

"So, what will you do to fix the problem?" Michonne asked, taking a step toward him and fixing him with her calm but stern gaze. He shrank back a little, from her, and from the responsibility she was trying to show him already belonged to him.

"I didn't say we had a problem," Gregory said. "You did. And what happened outside of my purview is outside of my purview."

"What the hell, man?" I snapped. "You're either with us or you ain't. You're sitting over there talking out of both sides of your mouth!"

He gave me a look like I was scum. I used to believe that look, but people show you more of who they are these days. Before, if a guy like Gregory had given me that look, I'd have thought he was some do-gooder asshole who had the right to look at me like that because he was better than me. Now, I knew he was a goddamn coward. He was scum.

"Well, I think I've made my position very clear," Gregory said. "And I want to thank all of you for not being here today and not having this meeting with me, or being seen on your way out. In other words, go out the back."

I glared at him in the silence, willing everyone to tell him to go to hell. To take over this damn place and force them to stop, but nobody said anything. A heavy, resentful reluctance took hold of the room and infected everyone except me. Gregory had turned his back on us all, and people started to file out, but I couldn't move.

Last time I'd stood in this room, Naomi had been here too. I'd been so confident we could win this fight without losing too much. When we'd gone home that night, she'd kissed me for the first time. I'd felt like I was on the verge of having everything I'd ever wanted and everything we all needed to get shit settled in this new world.

Now, she was gone. Now, there was hardly anyone willing to fight for what was right.

I wanted to say something, do something, smash something maybe. Burn Gregory's office to the ground and justify the goddamn look he'd given me. He thought I was dangerous? He didn't know the half of it.

I was out of Sanctuary now, and I'd gotten past what I was sure would be the worst of it for me, but losing Naomi had lit a fire under my feet that refused to let me stay still. If I stopped moving, stopped working towards getting her back, I felt like I'd die.

This wasn't over. I had the same group of people with me I'd believed in when we started this. This was the same fight; we were just closer to the beginning of it than any of us had realized. It wasn't over, and that was a good thing. It meant I still had a chance to get her back. With or without the help of a goddamn weasel like Gregory.

Fuck. This. Guy.

I stepped out of the room, slammed the door real hard behind me. The others looked nervously at me like they thought I was about to destroy some shit. "We don't need him anyway."

"Yeah, that's right," Rick said, couldn't tell if he was just reassuring me or everyone else. "'Cause we have Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, and Jesus here."

"And… Enid," Maggie reminded us as Enid came through the door.

"Hey, um-" she hesitated, looking around at all of us with a kind of excitement that felt out of place after we failed to convince Gregory to do what was right.

"What's wrong?" Sasha asked.

"Nothing…" she said. "Just… come outside."

We followed her out of Gregory's dumb, big house to where a group of people had gathered at the bottom of the steps.

"What's going on?" Maggie asked. A woman at the front of the group stepped forward. She looked warily at the rest of us before her eyes fixed on Maggie.

"Hey… so if you don't remember me, I'm Bertie," she said, growing in confidence the more she spoke. "And I owe my life to you all, twice over. A bunch of us do. Enid says that you want Gregory to get us to fight the Saviors with you. Is that true?"

"Yes," Maggie said.

"Do you think we can win?" Bertie asked her.

"I do."

"Well, Enid says you could show us the way," she said. "I'm ready."

There was a chorus of agreement from the group behind her. I felt something heavy in my chest start to lift. We didn't need Gregory, and it looked like his own people didn't need him either. We'd be able to train them, and it would be pretty easy to do without Gregory getting suspicious. From what I'd seen since he got here, he didn't do much more than sit in that damn office and say no to shit.

"It's a start," Michonne said as we walked away, but it didn't much sound like she was confident it was a strong start.

"We'll get more," Sasha said.

"It still won't be enough," Michonne said, glancing around at the rest of the people who lived at the Hilltop. Even if all of them agreed, we'd still be outnumbered.

"No, it won't," Rosita agreed.

"I'm going to the Kingdom," I told them. They all stopped and looked at me. "I'm taking Mia there. Saviors don't know about it, so she'll be safe. I'll talk to the King. You ain't gotta come, but they got the kind of numbers we need."

"Do you think the King will listen?" Rick asked. "Involve his people in a fight they're not invested in?"

"Well…" Jesus hesitated for a moment. Everyone's attention turned to him. He looked at me, "Actually, the Saviors do know about the Kingdom. Ezekiel might be more invested than you think."

"These assholes are getting shit from the Kingdom, too?" I asked. No wonder the Sanctuary was filled with such goddamn luxury. They had enough to hoard damn cans of dog food to feed to prisoners and nice-ass food for themselves. I wondered if Dwight was feeding that shit to Naomi now while he chowed down on fresh produce from the Kingdom, washed it down with a glass of Hilltop milk. I looked at Rick, "They gotta be stopped, man."

"They will be," he said and put a hand on my shoulder. "We'll stop them."

"To the Kingdom?" Jesus asked. I nodded.

"Let me get Mia first," I said, "I'll meet y'all by the gates."

Rick nodded, and I made my way back to the trailer I'd left Mia sleeping in. She was awake again. Seemed like she'd got about as little sleep as I had.

"Hey," she said when she saw me. She looked pale, and her voice was quiet. Tired, sad eyes, but they didn't fill me with the same dread and guilt that I'd felt before. I had something to tell her, something we could actually do to get Naomi back. A weight in my chest was lifting a little, and I knew it would be the same for Mia. We could both stop feeling so useless and guilty all the time. And we had a team backing us that was filled with some of the only people I'd ever trusted other than her sister.

"C'mon, we're heading out," I said, unsure how to start explaining things to her. I just knew we had to go.

"We're leaving?" she stood up right away. Her wild and panicked eyes looked at the door behind me. Her voice dropped to a whisper, "Are they here? The Saviors?"

"Oh. No," I said quickly. "Nothing like that. My group are here, and we're heading to another community to see if they'll help us fight. It's, uh... actually one I wanted to take you to, anyway."

I wasn't sure how much Naomi had managed to tell her. It didn't feel like it was my place to break this news and take a reunion away from Naomi that I'm sure she was looking forward to being part of.

"One of your sister's friends is there," I said. That familiar bite of jealousy threatened to rise up and cut my words. But, it wasn't Bryce's fault that I'd been such a dumbass. It wasn't his fault that Mia might know him better. It would actually work in my favor if she liked him enough to stay with him while I got the more dangerous shit done. "Bryce… uh, I don't actually know his last name, but-"

"Bryce is alive?"

"Yeah," I said. Mia immediately looked lighter, happier. I hoped knowing Bryce was alive had given her the same strength that seeing Rick and the others had given me. She was already walking toward the door, a little frown on her face that made her look as determined as I felt. It was a breath of fresh air to talk to the only other person who refused to just write Naomi off as dead right away. The only other person who'd refuse to give up on her. The only one who didn't look at me like I was living in denial.

The rest of the group was waiting for us by the gate. Mia slowed down a little when she saw them all. I glanced at her to check she was alright and watched her size them all up as we approached them.

"This is your group?" she asked me.

"Yeah."

"Which one's Carol?" Mia asked, scanning their faces. I was shocked for a moment that she even knew that name. Then she looked at me and shrugged. "Naomi said she made good cookies."

"Nah," I said, only mildly surprised that Naomi had managed to weave in conversation about snacks in the middle of an escape attempt. "She ain't."

Mia couldn't have known it, but now that she'd drawn attention to it, it was weird that Carol wasn't here. Maybe Rick had left her at home to keep an eye on things and protect the place.

"This is Mia," I said to them all as we got closer, remembering how she'd almost hid behind me the first time she'd met Maggie and Glenn. But there was none of that shyness now. She was a girl on a mission to save her sister.

When Rick stepped forward to introduce himself, she looked him dead in the eye and said, "You're gonna help get my sister back?"

Rick looked at me in a moment of panic. He didn't want to give this kid any false hope, and he was looking for me to back him up, but I wouldn't. That hope wasn't false. Carl stepped up beside him and said, "Yeah, we'll get Naomi back."

Mia relaxed, and Jesus arrived with a people carrier for all of us. I let Mia climb in ahead of me, and then I turned to Rick, "Hey, where's Carol?"

He hesitated again, the same way he'd hesitated when Mia had spoken to him. The Rick I knew, the fighter I was following to take Negan down, was still here, but these pauses were the ghosts of the guy who'd almost submitted.

"We don't know," he said. My heart dropped down to my stomach, and I could tell Rick had been hoping that this wouldn't come up. "We think she might be in the Kingdom. She and Naomi left before… well, before all this. But Negan didn't bring them both into that clearing that night, so we assumed Carol got away… Morgan went looking for both of them, but we haven't seen him since, so… Naomi didn't tell you anything about it?"

"Nah," I said. A deeply buried flame of anger and resentment flared up. "We didn't exactly have time to catch up in there between all the beatings."

Rick flinched. I knew I'd been harsher than he deserved, but something about this struck a nerve. Carol disappearing without saying goodbye, Naomi helping her without telling me. Why wouldn't either of them have talked to me about it? Given me any kind of warning?

I got in the car beside Mia and slammed the door. She was silent. I felt a twist of guilt and wondered if she'd heard what I'd said out there. I wanted to say something to her, take it back, or leave her with a better thought than her sister getting beaten.

I should've kept my cool.

I should've kept my damn voice down.

Now, it was all I could think about. The bruises on Naomi's face. Them ones around her neck. I couldn't let myself think about what Negan might have done to her after we'd got out, but once the thought was in my head, it stuck there.

The car couldn't come to a stop fast enough. When it did, Rick and Glenn got out, shut the doors behind them. The rest of us sat in the silence of the car.

"What if the King doesn't want to help us?" Glenn muttered as we watched Rick and Jesus chat outside of the car.

"Well, we find the right stuff, then maybe we don't need the numbers," I said, remembering taking out a whole bunch of them with the RPG. "Blow 'em up, burn 'em to the ground."

I honestly did not care. All I really needed was an in. If I could make a hole in the Sanctuary wall, I could get in there, and I could get her out. I didn't need an army to do that.

"You said that there weren't just soldiers with the Saviors," Tara said. "That there were workers there. People who didn't have a choice?"

There's always a choice.

"We gotta win," I said, and then because I couldn't stand sitting around anymore, I leaned out of the car. Every second we spent talking to people we didn't need to be talking to was a second wasted. It was about damn time folks started realizing that. "Hey! What the hell we waiting on?"

Jesus turned back to look at one of the roads ahead of us. Not far off, I could hear the sounds of horse's hooves beating the tarmac. "Waiting for them."

Two guards on horseback approached us from the direction of the Kingdom. I didn't recognize either of them from the last time we'd been here.

"Who dares to trespass on the sovereign land of the -" one of them started in that bullshit old-timey speak that their King was so fond of Kingdom, and then kind of did a double-take. "Oh shit, Jesus, is that you?"

Jesus waved at them both. They relaxed a little but still looked unsure about the rest of us.

"Who are all these people, Paul?" the other one asked.

"Hi, Richard. Nice to see you," Jesus said.

"It's good to see you, too," Richard said, but his tone made it clear he didn't have time for any pleasantries. "Your friends, who are they?"

"This is Rick Grimes," Jesus said. Rick gave them a solemn nod. "He's the leader of a like-minded community. These are some of his people. We would like to request an audience with King Ezekiel."

"Get out of the car," Richard said, getting down from his horse and turning his scrutiny on the rest of us. "You say they're a like-minded community. Like-minded how?

"We live, we trade, we fight the dead," Jesus said. "Sometimes others."

"Line up," Richard said.

Nope.

We ain't got time for this.

"This is a waste of time," I said. "Go get the King or Bry-"

"The King is a busy man," Richard interrupted me. "And it's a dangerous world. We don't usually allow a pack of strangers to waltz right through our door."

"I ain't a stranger, I've been here before!"

"We want to make the world less dangerous," Michonne said, taking a step forward before Richard and I could come to blows. "And we are all here to show the King how serious we are about that."

Richard's gaze slid from me to Michonne, taking in her much more measured response. I knew she was handling it better. But she didn't feel like I did. Each passing second wasn't cutting her like a knife.

"The car stays outside," Richard said. "You gotta hand over your guns."

"We only have two," Rick said as he and Carl handed them over. The weight of that sank in. I hadn't given much thought to how few weapons we'd been left with. Even if we got the numbers, would we be able to take the Sanctuary?

It don't matter. I'll take it apart brick by brick with my bare hands if I have to.

"Follow me," Richard said, and he led us all toward the Kingdom. He took us a different route than the last time I'd been here, through big gates at the front of the school that opened up to reveal the old school buildings and vast grounds. We could see people growing crops, some were training with spears in their hands, and others in the same uniform as the other guards were jogging around the parameters.

"Morgan?" Tara's voice drew my attention to where Morgan was rushing toward her, a big smile on his face. I glanced around for Carol but couldn't see her in the crowds. He greeted the rest of us, and then Richard told us the King was ready to see us. The group started to slowly file in, Rick and I hung back to talk to Morgan.

"Did you find Carol?" Rick asked.

"I did," Morgan said and, annoyingly, didn't follow up with anything else.

"Where is she? Is she okay?"

"Naomi brought her here," Morgan confirmed, "and then she left. You know, Carol wasn't too happy I'd followed them here. She wanted to get away from us, from everyone. So, Carol was here, but now she's gone, too."

Gone?

How could she just be gone? This was Carol, for fuck's sake. She'd been with us from the start; she was our family. She had a right to know what was going on. Before I could blow my lid, Rick put a hand on my shoulder, "We'll find her. We'll get her back. One thing at a time, yeah?"

He nodded toward the door everyone else had started filing through. Nothing about this sat right with me. But he wasn't wrong. We had to deal with one thing at a time. We'd get the King's help, and then we'd shake down Morgan for more information on where Carol had gone. Reluctantly, I moved off to join the others.

"Head's up," I said to them all as the doors to the theater opened. "Dude's got a tiger."

I'm not sure any of them believed me right off the bat, but that changed real fast. Shiva stood up beside the King as we entered and roared. The King sat on his throne in the middle of the stage. Guards stood to the side of him. More stood at the doors, Bryce was one of them.

I was about to point him out to Mia, but an old, residual anger bit the back of my throat, and I had to swallow it back. I couldn't say anything, and I hated myself for it. Mine was the first face he picked out from our group, and something in his eyes hardened when he saw me. Then he checked the space around me, the way everyone always did, expecting to see Naomi because she belongs beside me. Then, he saw Mia, and his eyes lit up. He left his post and immediately started running. "Mia!"

"Bryce!"

She ran down the aisle toward him. I watched the way he bent down to scoop her up and spin her around. Her feet flew out behind her. It was probably how he'd greeted her when she was little, and it didn't matter that she'd grown a lot in the two years that had passed since they'd last seen each other. I saw the way both their eyes got a little brighter. I heard the amazement in Bryce's voice when he said, "God, you've grown so much!"

I tried to memorize all of it. Naomi would've wanted to be here for this. She should've been here for this. The least I could do was remember everything, so I could tell her about it when I saw her again.

Bryce set Mia back down on her feet again, and she glanced at the rest of us, suddenly mildly embarrassed by what we'd just seen. He was still looking, searching for Naomi in all of the spaces she should be. Before I could say anything to him, the King spoke.

"Daryl!" his booming voice cut across the auditorium. "Is this the missing child, returned safe and well?"

I nodded. Mia shrank back a little.

"Your Majesty-" Jesus walked ahead of us.

"Jesus!" the King's beaming smile felt so out of place, given the reason for our visit. "It pleases me to see you, old friend!"

"It pleases him indeed!" an overly-cheerful aide by his side beamed down at all of us.

"Jerry…" the King gently reprimanded him for his enthusiasm. "Tell me, what news have you and Daryl brought good King Ezekiel? Are these new allies you've brought me?"

"Indeed they are, your Majesty," Jesus said. "This is Rick Grimes, the leader of Alexandria, and these are some of his people."

"I welcome you all to the Kingdom, good travelers," the King said, smiling down at Rick. "What brings you to our fair land? Why do you seek an audience with the King?"

"Ezekiel… King Ezekiel," Rick corrected himself. I remembered how batshit everything had felt when Naomi and I had knelt in front of the King for the first time. "Alexandria, the Hilltop and the Kingdom… all three of our communities have something in common. We all serve the Saviors. Alexandria already fought them once, and we won. We thought we took out the threat, but we didn't know then what we know now. We only beat one outpost. We've been told you have a deal with them, that you know them. Then you know they rule through violence and fear."

At the mention of the Saviors, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Got colder. Ezekiel shot a glare at Jesus.

"Your Majesty," he said hastily. "I only told them of the-"

"Our deal with the Saviors is not known among my people," the King was angry. "For good cause. We made you a party to that secret when you told us of the Hilltop's own travails, but we did not expect you to share-"

"We can help each other!" Jesus protested.

"Don't interrupt the King!" Jerry snapped, all of his previous cheerfulness was gone.

"We brought you into our confidence," the King said. "Why did you break it?"

"Because I want you to hear Rick's plans."

"And what plans have you, Rick Grimes of Alexandria?" the King turned that glare back toward Rick.

"We came to ask the Kingdom, to ask you to join us in fighting the Saviors, fighting for freedom for all of us."

Our request was falling on already hostile ears. My heart sank as the King said, "What you are asking is very serious."

"Several of our people, good people, were killed by the Saviors," Michonne said. "Brutally."

"Who?" Morgan asked.

"Abraham," Rosita told him. Her voice shook. "Spencer, Olivia. Eugene was taken. They took Daryl and Naomi. He escaped, but every second Daryl's out here, he's a target."

I wasn't ready for it. To hear her name in this room, hear someone else say out loud what had happened to her. It made things too real, and there was a moment where I couldn't take anything else in. Blood rushed in my ears and drowned it all out. Felt like the world titled under my feet.

"They took Naomi?" Bryce looked at me. I nodded.

Mia looked up at him, and I heard her whisper, "It's okay, Daryl's going to get her back."

Bryce didn't say anything, but I could tell he couldn't believe it as readily as Mia did.

"I want to be honest about what we're asking," Rick said. "My people are strong, but there's not enough of us. We don't have guns, not enough at least. Not a lot of weapons, period."

"We have people," Richard said. He turned his head toward the King and spoke for our side with way more conviction than I expected. "And weapons. If we strike first, together, we can beat them. No more waiting for things to get worse, beyond what we can handle. We set things right. The time is now."

The King didn't look so sure. He looked away from Richard, and his eyes fell on where Morgan stood just a little bit apart from the rest of us.

"Morgan, what say you?"

"Me?" Morgan was surprised to be asked.

"Speak."

"People will die. A lot of people, and not just the Saviors," he said. "It… If we can find another way we have to. Maybe it's just about Negan, just capturing him, holding him. Maybe… I-"

No.

We ain't got time for that.

"The hour grows late," the King said, getting to his feet as Morgan trailed off. "Rick Grimes of Alexandria, you have given the King much to ponder."

I could feel this meeting slipping to an uncertain close before I was ready.

"Nah," I'm not even sure I meant to say it out loud; it just kind of happened. I felt people turn to look at me. Rick usually dealt with this shit, but my fuse was getting short, and I couldn't listen to someone else tell us no. I couldn't have wasted all this time coming here if it wasn't going to get us anywhere when I could've spent that time getting back to the Sanctuary. "We ain't got time for pondering. Those assholes are hurting people now. The longer you sit your fancy-ass throne doing nothing, the more people are gonna get hurt. At some point, that's on you, man."

There was another heavy silence, where I thought the King might get mad. Might set his damn tiger on me. I didn't really care if this made him say no. At least that would be a decision, at least there wouldn't be any more wasted time. But he didn't say anything, just looked at me. There was a conflict in his eyes.

"I invite you all to sup with us," he said eventually, "and stay till the morrow."

"No," I said again.

"Yeah, we need to get back home," Rick said. He gave me a look like he was trying to calm me down, but I was well past the point where that was possible.

"I shall deliver my decree in the morn," the King said and banged his staff on the stage like that was the end of things.

Tomorrow? Are you fucking kidding me?

As the King left the stage, he gestured to Bryce. Bryce nodded back and then approached us.

"I'll show you all where you can stay," he said, "and then I'll take you all to get some food."

We followed him, reluctantly, out of the theater. He took us over to one of the buildings converted into accommodation. He sent the word around the inhabitants of the Kingdom that more pillows and blankets were needed. As the rest of them filed in, I hung back by the door. I caught Bryce's eye and beckoned him over.

"Everything okay?" he asked with a tight and forced friendliness in his voice.

"You'll look after Mia, right?" I said. His eyebrows shot up.

"What do you mean?" Bryce dropped his voice, glanced behind him to make sure that Mia wouldn't overhear. "Are you leaving her here?"

"I'll be back for her," I said. "I just can't have her with me right now."

Anger flashed in Bryce's eyes. "She just lost her sister, the last thing she needs is people up and leaving on her."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"It sure sounds like it-"

"Look, I know what you think of me," I interrupted him. "I know… I know how bad I hurt Naomi-"

"Do you?" he said. There was something cold in his tone. "Because I'm the one who had to take her hospital once you left so she could get stitches in her hand."

I looked away from him for a moment, from the hatred that was in his eyes. I had enough self-hatred without having to add anyone else's to it. It cut me deep enough that I felt like I needed stitches of my own. If we'd had this same conversation back when I'd first done it, I'd have turned all of the self-hatred I was holding into something I could throw at him. An insult. A punch. But that kinda shit was what had ruined everything the first time around. It was what had led to those damn stitches in her hand. I couldn't be like that anymore. I didn't want to be like that. I wanted to be the kind of guy who deserved a girl like Naomi, and who could take care of Mia, too.

I took a deep breath and looked back at Bryce.

"Thanks," I said, and he looked surprised. "For looking after her that night. For helping out with Mia in D.C., Naomi said you did a lot for them. That's the only reason I came here. I'm going to get Naomi back. Mia wants to come with me, but I can't let that happen. It's too dangerous. I need to leave her where I know she'll be safe."

"You really think you can get her back?"

"Negan won't have a choice. I ain't gonna ask him nice," I said. "The only reason I came here was to make sure Mia was safe with you. I don't give a shit what your King has to say, I'm going now."

"What?" Rick overheard and doubled back towards the door.

"I ain't staying," I shrugged. I saw the flare of annoyance in his eyes.

"Daryl," Rick sighed. "You gotta be smart about this. You can't just-"

"What I can't do is leave Naomi in there for another night. What I can't do is just sit here and wait!" I yelled. I didn't mean to. It drew a few stares from people in the Kingdom. Bryce's head whipped round in another frantic check that Mia wasn't listening.

"Cool it," Rick held up a hand, and it took everything in me not to smack it away from my face. I wanted to throw punches. Not at anything specific. I just needed to let it out. "You can't get in there on your own. We need these people."

That feeling was back. Like there was a fire under my feet, and I'd burn up if I stopped moving.

"Nah," I said. "With the right shit, I could get in there. Blow a hole in the place, drive a truck through their walls… Hell, I'll dig a damn tunnel if I have to. I don't care. I'm getting in."

"We have nothing," Rick said. "No explosives. No weapons. Even if you did get in there, how will you face-down all the guns they've got? You'd die before you could get her out."

"Fine," I snapped. Rick looked close to snapping too.

"This is going to take time, Daryl," he said. "We rushed it last time, at that outpost, and look what happened. We've gotta do it right this time. Co-ordinated. As many guns and people as we can get. You burst in there now, and you'll die or get taken prisoner again. Negan will know we're coming for him, and he'll kill you both. He'll start something before we're ready to fight back. It would be a massacre, do you get that?"

My jaw was clenched so tight I couldn't agree or disagree with him. I hated that I was the only one so fired up about all of this. I hated how calm and methodical Rick was being, and I hated most of all that it made everything so goddamn slow. He waited, didn't let the question go, just kept looking at me.

"I don't like it," I said after an angry silence. Rick softened a little.

"None of us like it, Daryl," he said. "The last thing I want to do is leave any of our people with Negan. But, if we do this right, if we do this when we're ready, we've got a better chance of our people, our family, getting out of it alive."

I nodded. I still found it too hard to speak. Rick backed away again, left me to cool off, and went to join the others. I was left standing outside, breathing hard, trying to exhale every piece of anger in me, so I didn't go in there and start a fight. Bryce stood beside me. I wondered if he was still judging me and if my outburst had just confirmed every bad thing he thought about me.

"You ain't gotta like me," I told him through gritted teeth. "But I love them girls."

"Yeah," Bryce said. There was no hostility in his eyes anymore. "I can see that."

He had the same look in his eye that Richard had. He was ready for a fight. That helped. Maybe it would be like it was back at the Hilltop. Even if the leaders of these places failed us, there would be people willing to fight with us. I could raise an army without the permission of politicians and Kings. Bryce put a hand on my shoulder and gestured to the door. "Come on in, Daryl."