"so do you fill yourself with pills to deaden your ills?" - the sundays

the council voted on exile instead of execution, and negan was released. i didn't know how i felt about it—how any of us thought about it, really. daryl had already left for hilltop to check on the people at my request, leaving me behind to heal. my arm was still fresh, barely functional, but i wasn't going to sit here and do nothing.

lydia had spent most of the day by my side. neither of us spoke much. she'd pick up her book now and then, flipping through the pages without really reading. sometimes she'd just gaze out the window, watching the people of alexandria go about their day. i sat beside her, lost in my own thoughts, watching them too. it was strange—life continued on like nothing had changed. like negan's release wasn't still hanging in the air, like alpha wasn't still out there, lurking.

negan, i still hated him for killing joel, but that hatred felt like it belonged to someone else, like it was from a different life. it didn't burn as bright anymore, not with everything else happening. he'd changed—i couldn't deny that. but alpha, she was still out there, thinking her damn walkers had gotten me. the thought made my blood boil. she thought she'd won.

as the hours passed, i sat there silently, my mind working through a hundred different ways i could take her down. every idea seemed impossible, but i couldn't stop thinking about it. i had to kill her. i had to. and then, like a spark, it hit me. it was reckless and insane even, but it just might work.

i stood up suddenly, startling lydia. she looked at me, confused. "i'll be back. don't do anything stupid, okay?" i told her. she nodded, picking up her book again, though i could tell she wasn't reading it.

i rushed upstairs and grabbed my bag, shoving in some food, water, whatever i'd need for the run. lacing up my converse, i threw the bag over my shoulder and hurried out the front door. my chest clenched when i passed by the fence, the one enid and i used to hop over every day. the thought of her, gone, powered the anger burning inside me. i hopped the fence, pain shooting through my arm when i hit the ground, but i ignored it. aaron had given me one of his old prosthetics, not as badass as his, but it worked. it hid my stump well enough.

i trekked through the woods for hours, following footprints and faint trails until i reached an old train car. i knew i'd find him here. negan. i followed the last set of footprints up to the train car and stepped inside. the air was thick with the smell of blood. there, at the back, negan sat, his face wet with sweat and blood. in the seats beside him were the bodies of a mother and her son. they looked so peaceful like they'd just fallen asleep. "i didn't kill them." negan said, standing up and brushing past me.

"i know." i answered, and he stopped, turning to look at me. "why are you here, kid?" he asked, his tone tired, defeated. "i'm here to offer you a deal." i replied, feeling my chest tighten with each word. "what can you offer me?" he scoffed, clearly not in the mood for games. "a house, food, water, a car. anything you want." i explained, keeping my voice steady. "i wanna see her." he said, talking about lydia. "no." i shook my head. that was a line i couldn't cross. "you said anything." negan challenged, stepping out of the train car. i hesitated. "wait, fine. i might be able to pull some strings."

negan raised an eyebrow, curious now. "keep talking." he said. "i can get you almost anything, under one condition. you join the whisperers... and bring me her head." i said, my voice colder than i'd intended. negan laughed, the sound hollow. "you've got a serious death wish, kid. but i don't." "yes or no?" i pressed. "the deal expires."

he stood there, thinking it over for a long moment. "why the hell not? i've got nothing left to lose now." he said, half-joking, but i could tell he was serious. "good. i don't care how you do it, or how long it takes, but i need it done." i said, holding out my hand. negan looked at me, then at my hand, before grabbing it and shaking. "you got it, partner." he smirked.

"meet me here tomorrow at noon." i told him, handing him a map with a circled spot. he chuckled, shaking his head. "you've gone cold, kid. i like it." i watched as he disappeared into the woods, and only when he was gone did i finally exhale. the tension in my body left with him.

as i stepped out of the train car, i saw the boy who'd been assigned to watch negan in the yard. he lay dead in the grass, a gun still in his hand. it didn't take long to put it together—the gun matched the bullet wounds in the mother and son. i sighed, the weight of everything pressing down on me, before turning and heading back toward alexandria. it's dusk when i finally make it back to the house, jogging down the road. my legs ache, my arm throbs, but i push through it. daryl's standing outside like he's been waiting, arms crossed, his face lit by the dying light.

"feeling better?" he asks, sounding like a father scolding his kid for missing curfew. "yeah, thanks." i smirk, brushing past him and unlocking the door. "where'd ya go?" he asks, following me inside, his footsteps heavy behind me. "mm, i just needed air." i say, setting my bag down with a thud. my hand reaches for the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. i twist the cap off and take a long swig, feeling the burn slide down my throat. "you think negan crossed the border?" daryl asks, watching me closely.

i shrug, wiping my mouth. "he'd know we wouldn't be able to get him over there." i say, handing him the bottle. he takes it, his eyes narrowing. "can't see him puttin' on a mask either." he mutters, taking a sip. "or staying quiet for long," i chuckle. "still, stranger things have happened." i grab two glasses from the sink, filling them both with whiskey, almost to the top. daryl hands the bottle back, staring at me. "you wanna tell me what you were doin' out there?"

"told ya, clearing my head." i answer, keeping my voice light, but i know he's not buying it. "right," he mumbles, his gaze dropping. "why aren't you being straight with me?" his tone softens like he's trying not to push, but i can hear the concern.

i stare at him, puzzled. "after what happened at the border with alpha... i don't want you to worry. sorry." he looks at me, his eyes searching mine. "i get it. just wanna keep us safe." "i know." i say, looking down at the rim of my glass, swirling the whiskey. "how was hilltop?" i ask, trying to shift the conversation. he nods. "it's fine. yumiko sends her best." he says, leaning back in his chair. "connie fine too?" i ask with a smirk. he sighs, shaking his head. "what? i lost my arm, not my eyes." i tease, watching his awkward reaction. "it's not like that." he mumbles, taking an uncomfortable sip from his glass.

"no?" i press, still smirking. "not at all." he insists, but his tone isn't convincing. "why not?" i ask, raising an eyebrow. he sighs again, clearly not wanting to get into it. "ain't that many people left to find out there these days." i say, my voice soft. "much less good ones like her."

"yeah, i know," he says. my fingers touch the ring hanging from the chain around my neck, and for a second, i think of carl. he doesn't notice, or maybe he does and just doesn't say anything. "well, then why not?" i ask again, pushing him a little. "what's it matter?" he shrugs, avoiding my eyes. "'cause it does," i say, leaning forward, looking him in the eye. "you don't have to be alone. years pass, daryl. you can't hide out with your dog forever." he shifts uncomfortably, and i let the silence hang for a second before he changes the subject. "i'm hungry. you got food?" he asks, standing up and walking toward the pantry.

panic hits me as i realize the cabinet's full of empty vodka bottles. "yeah, i'll get it." i say quickly, jumping up before he opens it. i crack it open just enough to grab a bag of chips, my heart pounding in my chest. "thanks." daryl says, sitting back down, oblivious to my panic. "mm-hmm." i mumble, sighing in relief as i sit back down. he opens the bag and we both grab a handful, chewing in silence. after a few minutes, i set my glass down. "i think i'm gonna hit it." i say, standing up. "right." daryl says, following suit. he grabs the bag of chips. "take the chips, we don't eat 'em." i tell him with a small smile. he nods, flashing me a rare, grateful smile. "thanks." he mutters before heading out the door.

once he's gone, i lock the door behind him. i grab the whiskey bottle and head upstairs to the bathroom. it's my ritual now, drinking in the tub till the sun rises. i sit there, the bottle in my hand, staring at the ceiling as i let the alcohol numb everything for just a little while longer.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.