Virginia, Dawn

In the long, dark shadows, an hour before sunrise, death roamed free. Its very breath was a noxious green vapor. Its eyes gleamed with feral glee. Soon, the longest night for a group of survivors from Alexandria would become the day they wished never happened. Danger lurked around every bend. Like death, its threat was silent. A small rabbit quickly made its way alongside a small stream where thick reeds broke the surface. In the gloom, they looked like bony fingers stretching for salvation. A terrible menace dwelled just below the surface of the water and danced with the thousands of secrets that swam in one sinuous line. Many knew of the cruelness of that stream.

Knew, even in the dog days of summer, those waters were cold, cold, cold.

Even with dawn slowly taking command of the sky, the woods were not still. Death was busy. Mosquitoes buzzed as they greedily searched for their breakfast. Players of a far different tune, they blended in with the rest of the predators. Raya Kean knelt by a pair of broken tree limbs, watching and listening for signs of anything stirring in the small clearing ahead. Nothing greeted her but for the cool, damning silence. Where are you holding this damn demonstration of yours? Frustration rolled through her as she rolled to her feet in one fluid move. I know you're nearby…

She just had no idea where. With that jackass, anywhere was possible. Last report she received from Harper was the Alexandrians had been heading for Hilltop when they got grabbed. There were two roads between here and Hilltop she could check. Which one do I check first is the question? A glance to her left revealed nothing but row upon row of thickly knotted trees. Swinging her gaze to the right revealed much the same. Well, she mused as she brushed back a few loose strands of hair. Guess I can flip a coin like Two-Face. Heads I go one way, tails I go the other.

Either way would lead her to wherever it was Negan held court. I'm gonna find him eventually, she thought, jaw clenching. And when I do, I am so gonna blister his hide for going ahead with this demonstration.

A soft droning, much like that of a hive of killer bees, drifted on the back of the mist creeping across the ground. A horde of infected was nearby. She released a world-weary sigh. It didn't come as much of a surprise. A horde of the undead was always nearby. The infected were the one constant people had inside this cartoon circus world. The undead was something people could rally against. Something they could fight. Something they could actually do something about.

Life wasn't like a Nintendo game, though. There was no reset button here or extra lives. One wrong move and it was lights out, party over, see ya next time.

If one doesn't end up as a member of the undead…

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind when a figure stumbled out of the trees. The tall, grayish man wore a pair of filthy and torn overalls. Half his right shoulder and the lower part of his left arm were missing. He trundled towards her with the undead's trademark spasmodic gait, jaw snapping, bloodless lips dripping black ooze, yellowish eyes fixed and glazed. He reached for her with blackened fingers, groaning with his want, his need for sustenance. She had no time to run, no time to think, no time to do anything more than yank the hunting knife in the sheath fixed to her belt.

Regret cruised along the arm she raised. She did not hesitate, though. She plunged the knife into his forehead, yanked it out in a spray of grayish brain matter and was on her way before his body hit the ground. Such was the way of this world. Strike first, strike fast, and move on.

More groaning sounded ahead. She peeked around a large tree to see a trio of undead struggling and straining to break free of the chains securing them to a tree.

Anger and pity stirred in her breast. That anyone could have tied them up and left them to suffer a long and horrible fate sickened her. Monsters, they might now be, and the deadliest of predators, but they deserved better than to slowly rot. They're people underneath it all. She didn't have time to end their suffering now. She would have to come back later and do it. She made a mental note of the general area and resumed her mad trek through the forest.

If only I didn't let Negan talk me into checking out the situation… She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. It wouldn't have mattered. He knew she would intercede in his plans and strove to keep her busy so she couldn't. He wants nothing to stop him from getting the pound of flesh he feels he's owed.

Worry she'd be unable to stop him from punishing whoever pissed him off lent wings to her feet. When the canopy of trees became a thick curtain that impeded her progress, she slowed from a quick jog to a fast walk.

Stopping, even for one second was not an option.

Voices came from the road ahead. Exactly how many bodies accompanied those voices, she couldn't tell. Knowing the man in question, it was more than was necessary. He always brings more of his monkeys than he needs to these demonstrations of his.

It was how he played the game of hunter versus hunted. Intimidate by surrounding his chosen victims with an overwhelming number of well-armed men. Torment with witty taunts, terrorize with cold facts and intimidate by swinging the bat he cherished. Break apart psychologically, wear down their resolve by threatening to physically harm their loved ones, and then walk away, laughing at a joke only he got while telling those he let live how he would see them in a week for their drop-off completed his domination.

It was a mind game of the finest order.

Only a few were better at it than him: The Scarecrow, Mad Hatter, Dr. Strange, Poison Ivy.

The Joker.

The Clown Prince's intent was far different, though. Negan cracked people mentally before putting them to work providing for him and his Saviors.

The Joker simply broke people.

And laughs about it.

"I know this is hard for you, Rick."

Her head snapped up at hearing that name. Rick? It couldn't be. Rick Grimes was safe in Georgia with his wife and son. A small voice warned that she shouldn't be so sure of herself. She ignored it and crept closer, mindful of the fact that Negan could have any number of Saviors on the lookout for her.

The man was many things: bold, brash, barbaric.

Stupid? No way. Negan was far more cunning than people tended to credit him with being. There's a reason why Alpha doesn't try and mess with him.

"You've been the King shit mother fucker for too damn long." Voices murmured agreement. "Bossing people around… been in charge so long you've become addicted to it." There was a sigh punctuated by a dark, humorless chuckle. "Hell, you probably thought you had this world all figured out. Managing the dead, gathering supplies, working together. Might have even been a real long time since the last person died. That was before you fucking fucks fucked with me."

She circled around the clearing and crouched on the passenger side of a battered and dirty RV. She peeked around the front bumper and stifled a small gasp. Negan was pacing back and forth, Lucille dripping with fresh blood and gore, and his minions forming a semi-circle around the group situated on their knees in front of him. I'm too late, she realized as soft sobs came from a few of the women. He's already delivered his punishment.

"That shit's all over. Done. Gone. Dead. It's time for something new."

Negan waved Lucille through the air. Bits of blood and brain matter splattered the ground and the driver's side of the RV. She swallowed back the bile that foamed into her mouth. How many lives did you take in return for the twenty-eight they took? From this vantage point, she couldn't see more than one body on the ground. That meant nothing with Negan, though. There could be one, two, even three bodies.

Not that it mattered to her.

Even one life ended by Lucille was one too many.

"Let this be a lesson in what happens to those fucking fucks who decide to fuck with me. The more you fight back, the harder it is gonna be for you. So, if I come knocking on your door? You better let us the fuck in. Because I now own that door. You try to stop us in any way and we will knock that door down. You understand?"

She scanned the Alexandrians. Four women, four men, and one boy with a bandage over one eye. Her dismay and disgust gave way to mind-numbing fear when one of the men lifted his head and stared at Negan. His face was shadowed by a thick beard more gray than brown and framed by dark curls that weren't the glossy shade of chestnut she remembered, but there was no mistaking it was him.

Rick.

"No," she moaned. "Oh, God, no…"

Movement on Rick's right tore her gaze from him. She stifled a gasp when she saw the man kneeling between two women. His hair was no longer a golden halo, his clothing torn and bloody but there was no mistaking that lean body rippling with an animal-like grace.

It can't be, she thought wildly. It's not possible…

Dwight pressed the point of a crossbow – Daryl's crossbow - against the back of his head, stopping him. Icy tendrils of pain radiated across her chest before spreading outwards to where her other pressure points were already coiled tighter than a clock spring.

"I want you to think about what the fuck could have happened here. Think about what did happen. And then I want y'all to think about what can still happen."

Negan smiled and pointed Lucille at Rick. She positively itched to leap out of hiding and protect him from the foul-mouthed lech. She resisted the urge. If she confronted Negan now, if she revealed that she knew Rick, it would make things even worse for him and his people. I got to wait until I'm alone with Negan to talk with him about Rick.

"Everything has changed, Rick. Shit is gonna be different from now on. You're entering a brand-new world. It didn't have to be such a painful process." All humor fled Negan's face and voice then. Anger and something more, something she couldn't quite define, and which caused a shudder to snake through her, flickered across his face. "You made it that way."

"I'm gonna leave you a truck," he said as he turned to leisurely stroll away. "Keep it. Use it to cart all the shit you fucks are gonna find for me." He let that comment hang for a moment. "We'll be there for our first offering in a week. Until then, ta-ta."

Only after Negan climbed into a vehicle and drove off did she let her gaze drift back to the man kneeling in the dirt. She ached to go to Rick, to rub those bowed shoulders, and tell him everything would be okay, she would help him make it okay. However, she knew something far more sinister than Negan waited in the shadows. A man who wanted

Oh, Rick… she thought as anger tangoed with fear in her belly. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into.

...

"Yanno," the man, Simon he remembered the asshole calling him said. "I really expected that bitch he's been screwing to show up and plead mercy for you dumb assholes."

What? Rick frowned as he stared at the body lying in a pool of blood, bone and brain matter. What woman? There was no woman he could think of that was going to come and plead their case. Not to a cold-blooded son of a bitch like Negan. So, who the hell's he talking about? Rick went to ask him but found he didn't have the energy to open his mouth, much less actually form the words.

What sound he did manage was a sputter. At best, it was a sigh. His body trembled from a combination of shock, fatigue, and grief. As he tried to process everything that happened, he realized there wasn't a part of him that didn't hurt. This is all my fault, he thought as bile gushed, hot and foamy into his mouth. If he hadn't gotten so cocky, if he hadn't blindly rushed into that depot, if he had taken the time to learn about Negan... none of this would have happened. My fault, he thought over and over as Negan's men moved around him, taking pictures of Glenn and Abraham's battered and bloody bodies. It's all my fault.

Abraham losing out on a chance to make amends with Rosita before starting a new life with Sasha.

Glenn never getting the opportunity to meet his son or daughter.

Carl almost having his arm chopped off with his own ax. And by my own damn hand.

Rosita terrorized by having that bloody bat waved in her face.

Maggie forced to watch her husband beaten to death right before her eyes.

Them now forced to serve Negan, to provide for him and his Saviors or face similar consequences.

It was all his doing.

Negan's right, he thought as a jolt of white-hot pain shot from his brain all the way down his spine. We are a sorry buncha shits. He squeezed his eyes shut. The swirling blackness behind his eyes caused a wave of nausea that rolled thick and greasy through his stomach.

He bore down, shoved it back.

Sweat popped out on his already clammy skin, chilling him despite the heavy jacket he wore. He must have made some sound because a rough hand bumped his forehead, lifting his face up. Rick found himself staring into Simon's leering face. Hate clashed with the grief and anger fighting for dominance. He'd love nothing more than to wipe that grin off the asshole's face. He refrained, however. Punching Negan resulted in Glenn's death. Something inside Rick warned him that the consequences for socking Simon in the mouth would be far, far deadlier.

"Yep, I really expected the bitch would come and make a case for you assholes." He made a low humming sound deep in his throat. "She's always preaching mercy. But the bitch didn't come, did she?" His grin stretched wider. "Guess saving the living don't mean all that much when it's her ass that nearly got killed by you fine folks."

"What are you talking about?" Rick managed around the sawdust filling his mouth. "What woman? There wasn't a woman there at that satellite depot."

Not that escaped alive, anyway. He didn't say that, though. Something told him it'd be bad if he did.

"Oh, she was there," Simon assured him with a nod. "She left about ten minutes before you dumb shits showed up."

Rick racked his brain, trying to remember if he saw a car leaving before they attacked, but nothing jumped out at him.

"No," he denied softly. "No, that's not possible."

"Oh, believe me, dickhead, it is." Simon chuckled, long and low. "Negan was fit to be tied when he heard 'bout you killing Bud and the others. That was nothing to the rage he flew into when he thought you assholes killed Fin."

"Fin?" Rick frowned. "Who is she?"

"You'll meet her soon enough, Prick." Simon's grin was feral. Predatory. Like a hungry jackal who had caught a mouse and was patiently waiting to rip it to shreds. "Pretty sure Negan'll bring her ass to your first drop-off to show her what a good boy you're being."

"Why?" Rick shook his head. "I don't understand. Why would he bring her to the first drop-off? What's so important about her?"

Simon crouched so they were eye level.

"Well, now, see, I keep asking myself that very question. Women are alike in my mind. Turn 'em upside down, they all look the same. However, Negan? He's taken a real shine to Fin. And that," he stated as he stood, "is bad for you." He chuckled softly. "Yeah, man, he's gonna make you pay for almost causing harm to the bitch. I almost feel sorry for you assholes. Almost." He turned to signal to the men waiting nearby. "Let's go."

The men followed Simon without a word. Rick felt invisible bars close around him. Trapped, he realized as his head dropped. We're trapped.

And there was no way out.

What am I gonna do? he asked himself as car doors slammed and engines sputtered. One wrong move and he'll take us out.

Not for the first time, and Rick knew it wouldn't be the last, he found himself wishing he could turn back time. He'd go back to when things started to fall apart. To when they stopped making sense. To that farmhouse outside Atlanta. And the woman who left him there for reasons he still didn't understand all these years later.

I wish you were here, he said silently as tires spewed dirt and rocks. You'd know what to do. You'd find a way to fix things.

You'd bring Batman here if you had too.

That thought rolled over and over in his mind as he was finally left with the bodies of his fallen friends, his family, and memories that wouldn't go away in ten lifetimes.

A/N: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

So, this story begins right after season 7, episode 1 of Walking Dead but pretty much nothing after this episode is gonna be utilized. I'm tossing out the script and making this story its own. This story is third in a series but should stand on its own (to see the timelime, check my profile). Feel free to call me out if I'm wrong :)

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