The room I'm in is freezing. The walls and floor are cold, hard concrete. The heavy metal door is locked from the other side. There's a faint smell of vomit and dog food.

When I got here, it was daytime. Now, it's anyone's guess.

"Holy shit, Simon! You swing by Alexandria without telling me? What's that pussy doing here?"

"Caught him at Hilltop, boss man. Says he ran away from the burg. But I figured you'd wanna chat."

"Oh boy... haha. This day just got a hell of a lot more interesting. Euge, know if this kid would turncoat?"

"...Giving it to you straight from the shoulder? I do believe that given the opportunity and the correct mix of circumstances, he might pick number one over a whole bunch of number twos."

I don't know what time it is now. Negan grilled me for what felt like hours. Asked me every question. Over and over. I just did what my mother would have. I put on my best poker face and played my part.

"How'd you get here, pussy?"

"It's Mikey..."

"Woah! Did you just talk back to me? Shit, kid, maybe cutting your brother open like a damn fish did you some actual good in the ol' backbone department. Tell me... Rick know about Hilltop?"

"No."

"Ha haaa. I don't believe you, pussy."

I think he did. Otherwise, he wouldn't have questioned me into the night.

Some creepy guy that kept squeezing my bicep threw me in here after Negan said I should get some sleep. I wasn't given a blanket or pillow, just the cold floor and quiet. I sit, back pressed to the wall, drinking in the pitch-black four-by-four. I think I'm on the first floor, but it's a maze in this factory they call home.

I suddenly hear the crackle of gunfire through the halls outside my door. Someone screams. I hear a woman yell. Then there's a whole lot more yelling. A whole lot more people. A rumble of cheering. Then it all stops.

My shallow breaths echo in the room as I wait quietly.

A few minutes pass before footsteps start approaching my door. I wipe my face, needing them not to see me cry. I stand up, holding myself straight against the wall.

The door is swung open. The light outside blinds me enough that I have to shield my eyes and look away. I hear something heavy land at my feet with a thud and a grunt. The door slams and drains the room of light before I can look.

I suddenly feel terrified. Like I've been thrown into shark-infested waters. Or, I guess, like a shark was just thrown into my water. A predator in here with me. Only I can't see its fin.

I hear as they try to sit up but slip, landing in a pile of themself again. I try taking a step back, but the wall doesn't grant me more room.

I build up the courage to speak — even if it's only a squeak.

"Who's there?"

It's quiet. I hear the person manage to stand and shuffle closer in the dark.

"Mikey?" A familiar voice asks.

"Sasha?" I breathe.

She steps closer until I can feel her breath on my forehead. "My hands are tied... can you—"

"Yeah— yeah," I gasp and nod, even if she can't see it. She turns around, and I struggle with the knot for a long time.

"I can't..." I grunt. "I'm sorry, it's too tight."

I hear Sasha shuffle. Her shoulder finds mine in the dark, brushing up against me and keeping close. We stay like this so we don't lose each other. Even in this tiny room, it feels like that would be easy.

"You okay?" she asks.

"Thirsty," I admit.

"We saw you when you got here," she whispers, her voice echoey in the small space.

"We?"

"Rosita and me... we were scoping the place out."

"Rosita's here?"

"No... I made sure she made it out. We tried to get Eugene out, but..."

"He's one of them now," I finish her thoughts before she can get them out. I've had longer to think about it. Part of me believes it... but the rest doesn't want to.

"You know where Carson is?" Sasha asks over my train of thought.

"No. Probably the infirmary if they have one. Simon mentioned something about Carson's brother being the doctor here on the drive over... said Negan burnt him alive for letting some woman called Sherry go."

Sasha tells me then why she and Rosita were even here. That they wanted to kill Negan, and they failed. My breath hitches, and she must hear it. She takes a few steps back. I hear her as she slowly sits down, sliding her back down the wall. She says we should get some sleep.

I guess it must still be night.

I don't manage sleep. I don't know if Sasha does either. I can only hear her breathing, and I don't want to speak. The dark seems to smother that from me.

Dad always used to say be clever. He would tell me that you can be clever in a hundred different ways before the situation can win one over on you. Mom would talk. Aiden would fight. But I can't do that in here. The dark doesn't allow for being clever. The dark doesn't let you win.

The door opens.

Sasha bolts up in the light — as fast as she can with her arms behind her back.

The man in the doorway is shrouded in the shadows of our cell. The light behind him shows us plain as day.

"Hey, there," the man says softly. He turns his head slightly into the light. It's the same guy that brought me here. The creep. "You okay?"

He's not asking me. It's like I'm not here. His eyes are pinned to Sasha like some wild animal to cornered prey.

"Can we get some water?" Sasha asks dryly.

He glances over his shoulder into a hallway that looks empty from where I'm sitting. He walks into our cell. I scooch back until my back hits the wall. His hair is short and curly, brown like his scruffy beard. His eyes are sunken and look starved of light. Like he was the one that spent the night in here.

He squats in front of Sasha, who doesn't shrink away.

"I should introduce myself," he sighs. "I'm David." He chuckles, looking down at his hands. "I wonder if you remember me from last night. Do you?"

"No," Sasha says.

He looks like he takes offence to that. His eye twitches a little. "Well, I can forgive that. Last night was kind of a shitstorm. I was the guy that gave the rope to the guys that tied you up. I always keep some close." He glances at me then, the first time he's even acknowledged my existence in this cold, suffocating room. "There's just all kinds of fun and interesting things you can do with rope."

I somehow press my back further into the wall. My stomach turns like the waves under the waves atop the ocean. It's deep, and the pressure hurts. When his gaze finally lets me go to look back at Sasha, I sink and drown.

David touches her arm with his open palm, stroking his way up it until it's resting on her collarbone, his fingers under the neck of her t-shirt.

"God, you're pretty," he whispers.

Sasha doesn't blink. Her eyes glance over his shoulder to the hallway behind. He startles a little, looking over his shoulder and taking his hand away from her.

When he realises we're alone, he asks her a question.

"If I give you some water, which is not something I'm supposed to do, will you do something for me?"

His hand goes back to where it was, resting on the skin under the neck of her t-shirt.

"Something you're not supposed to do?"

He leans closer until Sasha's breath starts to shake, and her stony face cracks a little.

"Will you?"

He suddenly rips her shirt open, letting it hang off her shoulder.

"Stop," I plead.

David looks at me again after I find my voice. It's quiet and shaking, but I find it in the light he let slip in.

His eyes are mad.

"You need to be quiet, kid," he growls. "You'll get your turn."

Sasha's face cringes then. Her eyes narrow and focus on David.

He puts his mouth to her ear, his nose brushing her skin. "Tell me how thirsty you are," he whispers.

"Go to hell," Sasha hisses. Then she quickly cracks her forehead into his. There's blood. David falls back, slamming against the far wall by the door.

I see an opening.

He's down.

Rhys would take it.

Aiden would have.

I just sit still and listen as he starts to laugh and sit up.

"Oh, shit," David chuckles, clutching the small bruised cut on his forehead.

He sits up onto his knees.

"Fighting's just gonna make it last longer..."

He unbuckles his belt.

"Which, for the record... is fine by me."

CLUNK!

An ear-splitting clang of metal and wood. A boom so loud that all three of us flinch.

Negan's standing in the doorway, a dent in the door where he struck his bat.

"David!" he barks.

David scrambles to his feet as Negan saunters into the now well-lit room. Negan looks around before glaring at him.

"What in the fuck are you doing in here?" Negan asks, his voice scratching against his throat as he glances at Sasha's shirt.

David's face is awake now. "N— Negan, sir—"

"Do you really think I need you to answer that?" Negan holds up a finger and waves it around in front of him. "I can see that you're trying to rape this woman. You were trying to fuckin' rape this woman, weren't you? And with the kid in the room? Fuck... I saw how you acted around that girl in Alexandria. Guess what the boys have been saying about you is true."

David's whole body shakes as Negan steps closer with his chest puffed out and Lucille in his hand.

"This is some unacceptable fucking behaviour," Negan whispers. "Rape is against the rules here. I wouldn't want to be somewhere where it wasn't. Someone in charge who let something like that fly... fuck."

Negan pulls out his knife — the same one he killed Spencer with. The blade is as long as my forearm. The light from the hallway bounces off it and scatters through the room. Negan knows how to use the light and the dark. He's wielding them together now. He holds the knife between their faces.

David whimpers and starts to cry.

"David..." Negan coos. "You really crossed the fucking line here."

David dips his head, trails of sweat glinting in the light from Negan's blade. "I— I'm sorry, sir..."

Negan watches him for a few seconds, his eyes flickering between the other man's. Then he glides the giant knife through the side of David's neck. Under one ear and out bellow the other.

It happens so fast.

David gags, shock in his sunken eyes as he manages to realise what just happened too late to do anything about it.

"You know what?" Negan asks the man that's still on his feet and still stunned. The knife... still in his neck. "I do not accept your apology."

Negan tears the knife out. When it went in it was as smooth as butter. But on the way out, I hear every muscle and vein tear. Blood flicks across the wall above my head. David's body falls between Sasha and me, spanning the middle of the room and bleeding into the rest.

Negan glances at us and smirks.

Then he whistles, loud and sharp.

A man appears behind him.

"Get— uhh..." he points his soaked knife at Sasha.

"Sasha," she says.

Negan smiles eloquently. "That is a beautiful name."

He turns back to his man.

"Get Sasha here a new t-shirt."

The guy disappears. Negan cuts Sasha's bindings. David's dead eyes are watching me.

"I'm sorry you two had to see that," Negan shakes his head and talks like a dad that just yelled too loud in front of his kids. "Sorry 'bout the rope, too. Probably overkill, but you did cause one hell of a fracas last night."

Sasha moves her back against a wall and stares at the one opposite. The one decorated in David's blood by my head.

"Oh, shit," Negan chuckles, pointing Lucille her way. "I remember you. Yeah. You were there, too." He wraps the bat against the air twice, stomping his foot and clicking his tongue each time.

I see them both die again, clamping my eyes shut tight.

"Oh, hell... I get it now," Negan tells Sasha. "I got to hand it to you. You've got some beach-ball-sized lady nuts on you! Comin' in all kamikaze like that."

Sasha looks up at him.

"Big question here, and I need the truth on this one..." Negan grins. "Did Rick put you up to this?"

"Rick?" Sasha says his name like she hardly knows it. "Your bitch? No."

Negan snorts. "Hmm, the kid says the same. Ricky must be losing his grip. Either way, you must've thought it was gonna be the end, coming in on your lonesome like that. But that's not the way it's gotta go. Nuh-uh. Just the opposite. See this... well, this could be the beginning."

He squats down to set the blood soaked knife at her feet.

Sasha stares at it. I hold my breath and wait for her to put it through his chest.

"This knife is yours now," Negan whispers, standing up. "You can try to use it. Take me out. But considering I am standing above you, holding a baseball bat, that doesn't seem real smart."

Sasha stays still.

I stare at the knife.

"Now, you can use it to slit your wrists," Negan points at her. "Which would be a damn shame, but I get it. You're obviously not on the shiny side of the street... given recent events. You can sit there and do nothin'... wait for ol' David to come back to life and eat your face off... also a damn shame, and kinda nuts— but, hell, to each their own. Or you can use that blade and stop ol' Rapey Davey from becoming Dead-Alive Rapey Davey... save yourself, join the cause. I know what I'd do."

Negan glances at me.

"I'd offer you the same option... hell, it's there on the table. But I'm thinking you're gonna be at pee-pee pants city before you use that knife and get yourself down to stabby town... or even just do anything that impresses me."

My chest aches as I stare at my feet.

"Why?" Sasha finally speaks. "Why offer us this?"

Negan clicks his tongue and holds his arms out. "I am a man short. Shit, you can't really call the piece of shit lying dead on the ground there a man... but still... I'm short, and you got those beach-ball-sized lady nuts, and I wanna harness the heat comin' off of 'em." He turns on his heels to look at me. "And, kid, I would love for you to be the one to make the move and kill Davey for the second time today— using the very same blade I opened your kin up with. I want you to impress me. Because honestly, I think I could make you a little badass like Carl... but I need you to take some damn initiative for that to happen."

Negan laughs through a croak, stroking his shaven face.

"Sash, you can help me run this place one day. And Puss— sorry... Mikey, right? Your brother mentioned your mom helmed the ship back at Alexandria before Rick and his piss patrol showed up. Maybe you have some of that spark in you. God knows your gutless brother didn't. Sorry... too soon."

Negan gives that car salesman grin to us both.

"All of us together, following the rules, workin' on the same side of things. That's all this was ever about...

And it still can be for you two.

And I know it's hard to picture, considering what I did. But, guys, we all got shit to get over.

Take some time.

Think about it.

Whatever you decide for yourselves, so it shall be.

No pressure.

And again... I am sorry you two had to see that, even though I know you have seen some things.

I just want you to understand... we are not monsters."

He walks to the door, stopping and laughing to himself. He turns around.

"You know, in a way... you two have gotta go in opposite directions now. Sash, I need you to surrender to me... show me you are on board here. Kid, I need for you to step the fuck up. Grow a pair for you and the memory of your gutless ghost of a brother."

He grabs the door handle and laughs again.

Negan shuts the door and lets darkness flood the room again. Only David's blood flooded it first. I shuffle away to avoid the pool.

I hear the scrape of a blade against stone as Sasha picks up the knife in the dark, but I don't hear her use it.

Nothing happens until the door opens again— Eugene being the bringer of light this time. He brings us some creature comforts. A dim electric lantern and some blankets. Two pillows that he assures us are not hypoallergenic. He tells us that we should do what Negan wants. That he himself is a coward and he wants us to give in. He says that Abraham was a survivor and he would have wanted us to fight. He points out that he's alive and Abraham is not. He says we need to be like him to survive.

When Eugene goes, the lantern keeps us visible to each other and to David's walker, who is slowly starting to stir back to life. Sasha looks at me, and then she stands up. She crouches over David and holds the blade over his head.

"Do it," I say.

"I don't want him to win," she whispers.

"He's not. We're living."

"I don't know if I want that either, Mikey."

"You need to."

She scrunches up her face, twisting her expression and feelings into something comprehensive. "I'll do this to save you... the same way I did for Rosita."

I feel the pit that has been in my stomach since I got here begin to rise. Rise until it's not a pit. It's a volcano. Fire and brimstone raging inside of me.

I get up and snatch the knife from her hand. I look down at David as his jaw starts to flex and his eyes flicker. He looks like a man, not a walker. His cheeks have colour, and his eyes look so real. I stab the knife through one of his very real eyes.

Sasha watches me with an empty look as I leave the knife stuck in his head and step back. I hold up a finger when she opens her mouth to speak.

I puke on the floor.

I lower my finger.

I'm panting.

"Mikey—"

"Don't," I snap at her like I've never done to anyone in my life.

"I would have—"

"Yeah, I know," I say, wiping the vomit from my bottom lip, grimacing at her and the taste. "You would have done it for me. Maybe you should think about living for yourself for once. Not just saving people for other people. You say you saved Rosita like you would have saved me... you did it for Rhys, right? He needs you too, Sasha."

She stares at me, her face still. "I don't wanna die yet," she says. "Negan has to die first."

"My brother's dead," I hiss at her. "My whole family is dead. Stop wishing you were, too, because... because... it really doesn't help anyone!"

"As long as Negan dies first, it helps everyone."

"Why do you want to kill him so badly?"

Her stillness finally shatters. Her face goes red under the lantern's white glare. Her eyes turn furious. "You're asking why? Why!?"

"What does it solve?" I ask.

"He dies!"

"But what does it solve?" I ask again, finding a calmness that combats her wrath.

"You should want to kill him!" Sasha yells at me, climbing to her feet.

"I don't..."

"Why!?"

"Because!" I yell back at her, my shoulder rising and falling as her rage wins the struggle. "Because I'm tired of it, Sasha! I'm tired of everyone wanting to kill everyone else! I'm sick of that being the answer to everything! I don't want to kill him, and I'm FUCKING sorry that you do!"

Then my calm wins, too. Like we swapped. Sasha gave me her fury, and I gave her my calm. Only, in my hands, the anger frays and withers and fizzles until it leaves both of us with nothing.

"You know..." she starts, "I had a dream just before we took Maggie to Hilltop. That night. I dreamt I was at the beach with Abraham... before all this."

She smiles, her chin quivering as her eyes brim with feeling.

"But he got pulled under... and he didn't come back up. I was trying to find him, but he was gone. He was dead."

She sniffs, sitting down and pulling her knees to her chest. Wiping her eyes against her shoulder. Then she's staring at that wall over my head again, and I can see that she's there... at that beach with him right now.

"And then I started to drown," she gasps.

She smiles again for a second.

"When I woke up, he was there... he was just there. And I told him we could stay... that we could sit one out and not help. Maggie's gotta take care of Maggie. That's what I told him when he argued."

Her cheeks are rolling with tears, and she whines her words like a wounded animal lost in the grove.

"My dream felt real. Like we lost what we had. Like we did. I was so scared because it just started. I just started to feel again. To feel like I wanted to live. I needed him to live so that I could live."

Sasha laughs an empty laugh, one stolen from a happier time.

"He called my bullshit. He knew I hated what I said. He knew those words would choke in my ears for a long time and that I'd have to make up even for thinking that. Abraham told me that if we die it has to have a point... so that there was a point to everything that came before it... on the battlefield or the beach."

Her whole face is back in time then. She's seeing it all. Abraham and that happier time.

"Oh, my..." Sasha whispers like it's not for me to hear — not her words or voice for her to use, "that is living."

The lock clicks.

Negan opens the door, a Savior behind him.

His face tells us he somehow didn't hear any of that. He's frowning until he sees the knife half-buried in David's face. He grimaces at the puddle of puke by his feet.

"You win," Sasha says quietly.

"No," Negan points at us. "One of you just won..."

He turns to the guy behind him, pointing at David.

"Get some people in here. Clean this up. Don't miss the barf."

He steps into the cell and pulls the blade from David's skull with a wet slippery sound.

"So tell me," Negan waves the knife around. "Who did this?"

"She did," I whisper, nodding to Sasha.

"Can't say I'm shocked," Negan chuckles. He notices Sasha looking at the knife with wet eyes. "What? You didn't actually think I'd let you keep this, did you? You've still got a ways to go before I'll believe you're fully on board here. Baby steps. It is absolutely not personal. If the situation was reversed... I'm sure you wouldn't believe me either. Still..." he licks his lips, "the way you saved yourself. The way you surrendered to me just now. That is a damn good start. But we got to work on some things, Sasha. But I promise you, I will try to make it fun." He wipes his knife against his pant leg and sheaths it.

"What about Mikey?" Sasha asks.

He looks at me and lets a small breath come through his nose as a laugh.

"Cards on the table," he says to us. "A little birdy told me that Rick and the rest of your people are up to no good."

Sasha's shoulders tense the smallest bit, and she glances at me. I want to tell her that it wasn't me, but I can't give the game away now.

Negan shakes his head. "And, well, that needs to change, and you two are gonna help me change it. We're gonna find ourselves a win-win."

"How?" Sasha grimaces at the possibilities in Negan's head. "What are you—"

We both saw how he brought us to heel last time.

Negan cuts her off, holding a leather-clad hand up. "Hey, I'm gonna get some stuff to make the pair of you more comfortable... let you both have a taste of what it is we have to offer. Spend the night enjoying it, 'cause tomorrow... is gonna be a big day!" He stomps his boot and shines his teeth.

He chuckles at our horrified expressions.

He leaves.

He knows.

A/N

Loved writing Sasha and Mikey stuff.

Also Mikey's first time cussing ever! *Surprised Pikachu Face* What has the world done to this sweet boi.