The helplessness she felt in her cold dark cage was getting the worst of her. The confined space she was held in projected into her head, and her mind was clouded by all the darkness that enclosed her.

She needed to get out. Negan had to hear. He was misguided by the evidence. The story he put together was wrong. And she needed to tell him.

Dwight, sitting in the nearby cell, got to hear all of it. The restless rattling of the door, the banshee screams. Her ritual of summoning Negan seemed almost sacred. But all the ear-piercing desperation was nothing against what came next.

The frightening silence.

___

Unlike his counterpart, Negan did not suffer from isolation. After he walked out on Sally, he retracted himself to the only place he believed could make him feel better. He buried himself among his beautiful wives. They encircled him and intoxicated him not only by pouring him his favorite drink. They confined the space around him, nothing could get through, all he could taste were the touches and kisses of his healers. Just like before Sally.

He had no idea how long he let his wives fool him with their false affection, but after the first glass, he needed more booze to keep believing.

"Sherry, pour me one more," he raised his empty glass. He could not feel her near him, so he figured she was once more standing by the bar, not willing to participate in group activities.

Sherry always rolled her eyes and acted like everything he wanted her to do was a chore but she never said no. This time was no different, she took her time. More than usual.

"Sherry," he urged her, shaking the glass above his head. His eyes were still closed, playing make believe.

His wives were blocking his view anyway, constantly moving, touching him, caressing him, kissing him, but the moment he demanded Sherry, they all froze, looking at each other, contemplating their next move.

Negan opened his eyes.

"Sherry?" He stood up looking all around. "Where is she?"

Nobody answered. If Sherry was there, she would, she always had more guts than any of them.

"Don't make me repeat it. It's an easy question." His voice went low but still remained serene with a breath of irritation.

"We... She..." One of them tried to get the words out but the horror of his reaction was too much to handle. Negan had just enough of that, he never laid a hand on any of them, yet not even one was able to stand up to him. Except for Sherry. And Sally.

"Last chance, my dear wives." He took a deep breath. "Where is Sherry?"

"We haven't seen her since you left earlier."

"You haven't seen... and you didn't say anything to anybody."

"We thought..."

"Save it," he raised his hand. "You're all tight here, I get it. You know what is the prize for breaking rules, but none of you left so... Excuse me, I need to go find my wife."

Negan left the saloon calmly, but all blood rushed back to his head. If Sherry was really gone, he was wrong. He was so wrong!

___

Faint wailing and occasional brush against the cell door were the only vital signs unveiling Sally's thriving welfare. The weeping woman kept circling her cage, trying to fool herself into believing her cabin fever was nothing but an illusion.

She didn't mind the cold.

She didn't mind the dark.

Her only worry was Negan not seeing her side.

She kept pacing the confined space and just as her head started to spin, the cell door opened and the violent light blinded her sight.

"Let's go, ladybug, you've got somewhere to be." She could hardly blink twice to get used to the artificial light before two pairs of hands were escorting her down the corridor.

"Where are you taking me?" ...was the only thing on her mind but it never left her mouth. If they kicked her out she would sneak back to see Negan. If they were to kill her, Negan wouldn't let anybody else do that but himself, so she would get to see him, anyway.

Sally was certain she had Negan figured out. She was going to see him one way or another. The believe that Negan's desire to watch her wiggle her way out of this was getting the best of him, was forceful, but as Sally got to see soon, false.

Two Saviors were taking her down the corridors and right to the core of the monstrosity the Negan's compound was. Right to the center of the fire.

Just like the first time, when Sally was a witness of this event, the space surrounding the combustion chamber was full of Saviors. They were there to watch. The rules were broken, trust damaged, the aftermath inevitable.

Sally suddenly went heavier in two pairs of hands that were still pulling her forward. Negan was punishing her. But she was finally going to see him. Her feet began to work again, carrying her closer to her sovereign.

They set her down on the throne of shame and the torture began.

"So let's get to it," Dwight said holding the iron in the fire just like the last time.

"Negan's not here, yet," Sally sat back.

"He's not coming," Dwight said focused on taking the iron out of the fire.

"Come again?" Sally slid to the edge of her seat. That was the moment she recognized Negan was pulling her strings just as much as she pulled his. He saw right through her and measured the punishment worst of them all. He left her alone.

"You heard me. Negan's not coming," Dwight repeated, "we're taking care of this without him."

"No," Sally stood up so fiercely, the chair flew away from her and crushed somewhere near the crowd.

"Hold her down," Dwight said calmly to the men who brought her there and they restrained her in an instant.

Sally fought their iron fists holding down her arms. There was nowhere to hide. She was becoming Dwight's mirroring reflection in just about few seconds.

"You know what you did, Sally," Dwight said, coming to her. "You sided with the enemy and tried to flee from the consequences of your actions. You broke the rules. The iron is your punishment."

"No, no, I didn't ... Dwight, what, no... "

Dwight was getting so close to her, she could feel the heat of the metal on her skin.

"Not the iron! Not the iron!" Sally kept repeating, nearly going out of her mind. "NOT THE IRON! LUCILLE ME INSTEAD!" She shouted, her voice breaking. "NEGAN!" She screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Did you let Daryl go? Are you one of them?" Dwight was relentless.

"I'M NEGAN!" She cried out short on air. Her vision started to blur. "I'm Negan," her voice rasped.

And just like that, the heat was gone. Dwight made two steps back.

"Get her out of here," he ordered to the men holding her like a rag doll. They took her out of the sight of the crowd, unaware of the king standing up, at the top of the stairs, watching the whole thing go down. Hell, she almost got him before he got his answers.