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"𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨."

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.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

To Negan,

I don't really know why I'm writing to you, if anything, it feels kinda weird 'cause I'm used to speaking to Mom. But, Carl said something, and I guess I just got a whole lot to get off my chest, things that I can't say to your face 'cause you scare me, you scare me with how much you can affect me.

Carl said sometimes kids gotta show their parents the way. So...maybe that's what I'm doing. I guess I wish I could show you that you don't have to be like this. You don't have to be the Negan everyone else sees, not with me.

There was a time you were just...my dad. You and me, and Mom, we had some good times. Remember that? Sitting on the couch watching some dumb action movie, you and Mom laughing at how much I hated all the mushy parts? I miss that. I miss you.

Thing is, that you doesn't seem to be around anymore. You've changed, and not in a good way. And I don't know how to feel about it, about you. It's all twisted up inside, like half of me misses the dad who'd throw me on his shoulders, and the other half feels like I'm just a piece in this game you're playing with everyone else. I know now that you used me, said things to make me think you were the only one who'd stick by me. And I believed you, stupidly. 

But then...you took a bullet for me. Which makes it all confusing. Do you even care 'bout me? I don't know. You made me think I'm all you care about, then you go off and do stuff that makes me feel like I don't know you at all.

I don't know how to feel about you anymore. It's like...sometimes you act like a dad, and other times you act like someone I'd cross the street to get away from. You say you'd do anything to protect me, but then you hurt people I love and expect me to just accept it.

I get it, the world changes people. I know we can't be the same as we were before. None of us can. But you don't have to be the guy everyone hates. You don't have to be someone people fear. You don't have to be the worst version of yourself just because the world's gone dark.

You can be someone who protects without hurting, someone who leads without crushing people under your boots. That's who I want as my dad. Not the Negan who smashes heads just to make a point, or the guy who uses people's love to control them. I want the dad who used to carry me on his shoulders until he couldn't feel his arms anymore. The one who'd look at Mom and smile like she was the only good thing in the world.

I don't want to lose that dad, not for good. And maybe that dad doesn't exist anymore—I don't even know if he ever did, not really. But you still have a choice. You always have a choice. You don't have to keep being the man who scares me, or the man who everyone else wants dead. If you want to make things right, then stop all of this. Stop being the monster everyone sees.

If you ever read this, I hope you know I mean it. And I hope you'll change, or at least try. But if you can't...I guess I don't know what that makes us anymore. Just please, think about it. 'Cause I don't want to hate you, but I can't keep loving a man who makes me feel like this.

That's all, I guess. Maybe you'll read this, or maybe you'll toss it. Either way, I had to say it.

Sunny.

.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

Sunny ripped out the piece of paper from her journal, folding it up and tucking it into her pocket. She wasn't quite sure if she would even ever give it to the man, but it felt necessary to write, to get all of the mixed up emotions off of her chest. Plus, it wasn't like she had anyone to speak to or anything else to do with her day.

Carl's strange behavior had lingered like a shadow, even after they returned to Alexandria. After leaving Siddiq in the sewers, Sunny tried to shake off her worries, hoping things would settle back into normal. She'd asked Carl what his plans were, thinking they could go back to their usual routines, maybe even just talk. But he'd brushed her off, saying he had things to take care of.

And after that, he was nowhere to be found. Hours passed, and Sunny hadn't spoken to him. She'd catch glimpses of him from a distance—sometimes in his room, other times playing quietly with Judith. He seemed distracted, withdrawn. She couldn't ignore the heavy feeling creeping into her chest, as if something big had shifted without her knowing. Whatever had happened, whatever he wasn't telling her, it wasn't good.

A night and half a day had passed, Sunny had asked Carl if he needed more help with Siddiq, but he had told her he would sort it all out, leaving her with nothing to do. She just hoped he was okay, maybe he just wanted to prove something to himself, maybe that he could be good. She wasn't sure.

In addition to Carl going MIA, news came that the group would be leaving Alexandria—and surprisingly, that included Sunny. Daryl was not happy about it, especially since they were headed to the Hilltop, where Maggie had a holding cell full of Savior hostages.

Daryl didn't want Sunny anywhere near the Saviors, afraid that if any of them recognized her, they might try to take her to Negan. And he wasn't too thrilled about Sunny running into Lincoln, unsure of how he'd react to her arrival or what tensions might flare up between them.

But there wasn't much choice; they all needed to regroup at Hilltop. They were hoping that Daryl and Tara's plan to take out the Sanctuary had worked, leaving the Saviors vulnerable. All they had to do now was finish the fight while they still had the upper hand.

Night fell quickly, and Sunny stepped out of the house, spotting Daryl by one of the trucks, loading it up with supplies. She joined him, settling by his side as he hefted a crate into the back.

"Didn't expect to see ya out here," he muttered, giving her a quick glance. "Shouldn't ya be restin'?"

Sunny shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd come help," she said, nudging a small bag of canned goods closer for him to grab.

Daryl smirked slightly, though his eyes stayed focused on the supplies. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised. You always find a way to sneak into things, don't ya?"

"Guess I take after you." She shot him a small grin. "Besides, it's not like I'll be able to sleep in that truck anyway, bouncin' around the whole night."

Daryl chuckled quietly, then grew serious as he paused to look at her. "Listen, 'bout tomorrow... I need ya to stick close to me. No wanderin', and no goin' off on your own. Those Saviors see you and start gettin' ideas, it could go bad quick."

"I get it, Daryl," Sunny assured him. "You really think one of 'em would try somethin'?"

"Wouldn't put it past 'em," he muttered, his face darkening. "With you bein'... someone t' Negan... some of 'em might see it as a way to get in his good graces, thinkin' they're doin' him a favor." Daryl hesitated before speaking, almost calling Sunny Negan's kid, but that's not what she was, not anymore

Sunny nodded, her gaze dropping. "I know. But... it's not like that with me and him, not anymore. Besides, they're all locked up, right?"

"For now," Daryl replied, a grim look in his eyes. "But people like that, they're dangerous whether they're in a cage or not. I don't trust 'em, and I don't want 'em anywhere near you."

She gave him a reassuring nudge. "I'll be fine, Daryl. I'm not lettin' anyone mess with me."

Daryl let out a low sigh, nodding. "I know. Just... be careful, alright?"

Sunny gave a playful salute. "Careful's my middle name."

He cracked a small smile, shaking his head. "Not sure I'd go that far."

A loud clang boomed just outside the walls, freezing both Sunny and Daryl in place. Then came a voice, amplified by a microphone—the one voice they dreaded most. Negan.

"You may be wonderin' why the hell your lookouts didn't sound the alarm," he drawled, his tone taunting. "See, we're polite. I mean, I dunno when they're gonna wake up from that kinda shock, but they should wake up. So let's cut through the cow shit... you lose. It's over! You're gonna line up in front of your little houses and work up some apologies, and then the person with the lamest one is gonna get killed. Then I kill Rick in front of everybody, and we move on. You have three... count 'em, three... minutes to open the gate, or we start bombing the shit outta you!"

Sunny was frozen, her eyes wide, looking up at Daryl with her body practically shaking. "I... I thought ya said they were trapped. What... why are they here?" she stammered.

Daryl slammed his fist against the truck, his frustration boiling over. "I don't fuckin' know," he growled, the rage clear in his voice.

Negan's signature whistle echoed ominously through the air, pushing everyone into action. Carl quickly took charge, stuffing food into a backpack. "We need to make it look like we're escaping out back," he said urgently. "Get to the woods, halfway to the quarry, and cut the lights. Get enough of a lead on them, hit them, and get away on foot. You all know where to meet up."

Negan's voice boomed again, making them pause. "Two minutes, people! Dig deep. I want these apologies to be memorable! Bonus points for creativity—work up a poem, sing a song. I love that shit!"

Sunny scoffed under her breath, shaking her head. "He's such an asshole."

"Get going. There's gonna be people in the infirmary who need help," Carl directed, and a small group quickly ran off.

"We've got guns. We can fight them," Tara argued, tension in her voice.

"We will—but not now. Carl's right," Rosita said, backing him up.

Michonne's voice was fierce but conflicted. "Carl, we can't just let them take this place."

"We can. All we need to do is survive tonight," Carl replied, looking around at everyone with unyielding determination. "This is my show—you said it. This is my plan, and you're all gonna do it."

As Carl's words settled over the group, Daryl pulled Sunny aside, his expression serious. He knelt down slightly, bringing himself to her eye level. "Alright, Sun," he began, his voice low but firm. "I want you to stick with Carl, help people get out safe. Don't go runnin' off, y'hear?"

Sunny's brows knit together in confusion. "But... you'll need help. I can fight—"

Daryl's hand landed gently but firmly on her shoulder. "I know you can fight, but this ain't about that. We need people to make it out, and I need to know you're one of 'em," he said, glancing back at the chaotic preparations. "Carl's plan's good, and you're good with people. You can help 'em stay calm, get 'em through without panicking. And that's what we're gonna need more than anythin'."

She hesitated, gripping her bat tightly. "But what if somethin' bad goes down? I wanna be there to help you," she insisted, the worry clear in her eyes.

Daryl softened, his thumb brushing her shoulder. "That's why I need you with Carl. Gonna be enough chaos when we head out... last thing I want is for somethin' bad to happen and you're stuck in the middle of it. You just help him get folks safe. Can ya do that for me?"

Sunny swallowed, her resolve wavering but knowing Daryl was only trying to protect her. "Yeah... yeah, alright," she said quietly, looking down for a second before meeting his eyes again. "But you better not get yourself hurt out there. Promise?"

Daryl gave a small nod. "You just keep yourself safe, and I'll do the same."

She looked up at him one last time, her jaw set with determination. "Deal."

Daryl ruffled her hair briefly, a rare show of affection before he turned back toward the truck, his focus hardening as he prepared for what lay ahead.

"Let's go!" Carl yelled, and everyone quickly began to scramble into action.

Sunny ran alongside Carl, yelling orders for people to make their way to the sewers, they needed to hide. Sunny hated the idea that her father was going to destroy Alexandria, but what could they do? Fighting back at this moment wasn't an option.

Carl was darting towards the gates, Sunny was confused, why was he going to where the saviors were? She quickly gripped his sleeve, stopping him. "What are you doin'?" She quickly asked.

"I've got to do this," Carl spoke, continuing to walk towards the lookout tower, preparing to climb. Sunny didn't understand why, but she trusted his plan. 

As he started to climb, Sunny began to do so too. But, he quickly turned to her, looking down. "No, no. If Negan see's you right now, he's gonna be even more desperate to get in. I can do this alone. Run to the house, get the important stuff."

"But-" Sunny began.

Carl shook his head, firm but gentle. "No 'buts.' Go grab your journal. And listen—there are letters in a drawer in my room. Get them and bring them to the sewers with you."

"Letters?" Sunny asked, her confusion evident. "What for?"

But Carl didn't give her a chance to press further. "Just go, Sunny. Trust me."

She paused, taking in the look in his eyes—a look she couldn't quite place, but one that made her heart sink a little. With a final nod, she turned and ran back towards the house, her mind racing with questions.

As she hurried through the chaotic streets, she kept yelling out to anyone nearby, "Get to the sewers! Stay low, don't stop!" 

She could hear Negan's voice in the background, yelling out. "Okey dokey! Brought this on yourself, Rick. See, I was willing to work with you. But now? Well, now I see that you gotta go. Scorched earth, you dick!"

She was pretty sure Carl then said something, but his voice was too quiet for her to make out as she continued to run. "Oh-ho-holy shit! Everybody hold your fire, it's Carl. Look at you! Answering the door like a big boy. I am so proud. Daddy's not home, huh? Well, I guess he's gonna get back to a big ol' smokey surprise!"

Sunny finally reached the house, she dashed up the stairs, her mind still spinning. Why was Carl risking himself like this? She pushed the thought away for now, focusing instead on finding the letters. In his room, she opened the drawer and found a small stack of envelopes. The handwriting on each was unmistakable—Carl's careful print. The names written on them were familiar, and her heart skipped a beat as she held them.

"What is this all for, Carl?" she whispered to herself, clutching them tightly. She didn't understand, and she didn't have time to make out what any of it meant either.

She stuffed the letters into her bag, then grabbed her journal from her room, her fingers lingering on its worn cover for a second before shoving it in next to Carl's letters. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she took one last look around, feeling a pang of fear and sorrow as she absorbed the possibility that this might be the last time she'd see any of it.

Just as Sunny turned to leave, the ground began to shook. She quickly sprinted towards the window, seeing explosions happen from every direction. Alexandria was being destroyed. 

Sunny's heart pounded as she threw more things into her pack— Judith's toys, a handful of clothes, whatever food she could find. Part of her knew it was pointless. Her bag would probably end up trampled, burned, or worse. But she couldn't help herself; it was like she was gathering the last pieces of a life that was slipping through her fingers.

She took one final glance around Carl's room, catching sight of Carl's knife on his bedside table. She grabbed it, squeezing it tight for a moment before shoving it into her bag.

Another rumble shook the house, louder this time, making her jump. She couldn't stay any longer. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, Sunny took a breath and headed toward the stairs.

Just then, the door creaked open, the faintest sound amid the chaos outside. She froze.

"Carl?" she called, her voice barely steady. But the answer wasn't what she expected.

"Not quite," a familiar voice replied, smooth yet edged with something dark.

She whipped around. There, standing in the doorway, was Negan, silhouetted by the dim, flickering light filtering through the broken windows. His figure was imposing, and his face was etched with something unreadable, somewhere between a smirk and... something softer, something almost regretful.

"Fancy meeting you here, Sunbun," he said, his voice quieter than usual, as if he wasn't quite sure how to speak to her right now.

Sunny took a step back, her fingers tightening on the strap of her bag. "What...what are you doin' here?"

Negan took a step inside the house, closing the door behind him. "Looking for you," he said simply, his gaze finally landing back on her. His expression softened just a bit, but there was still that glint in his eye, that darkness that wasn't there in her memories of him.

Sunny swallowed, a million words stuck in her throat. She was angry, hurt, and terrified. The father she remembered wouldn't be here, wouldn't be the reason their whole community was burning down outside.

Negan raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. "C'mon, kid. Let's have a chat."

Reluctantly, Sunny felt herself nod, knowing she had no choice but to follow him. She cast a last glance up the stairs, hoping Carl was still safe, and then slowly descended, watching Negan as he led her into the kitchen. It felt surreal to see him standing there, like some twisted version of the dad she once adored.

He gestured for her to sit at the table, and she did, though she kept her distance, her grip still tight on her bag. Negan leaned against the counter, looking her over, his expression softer than she'd expected but no less unsettling.

"I know what you're thinking," he started, his voice low, almost gentle. "You probably hate me right now. I get that." He paused, a flicker of something—guilt?—crossing his face before it hardened again. "But I'm still your old man, Sunbun. And I'm here to take you home."

Sunny's jaw clenched. She could feel anger bubbling up beneath the fear, resentment filling the spaces where trust had once been. "Home?" she echoed, her voice shaking with disbelief. "This is my home. I've got people here. Friends. Family. People who'd never... never burn it down just to make a point."

Negan's gaze darkened, but he held back, nodding slowly as if to acknowledge her anger. "Huh, your people tried to damn destroy the sanctuary, what would you call that?" He asked, Sunny frowned, looking away. "This world we live in now? Sometimes you've gotta be the one to make the hard calls, and sometimes those calls hurt. But I'm doin' it for us—for you."

"Funny, 'cause it doesn't feel like it's for me," she shot back, bitterness thick in her voice. "Carl... everyone here—they're like family too. And you're destroyin' that."

Negan sighed, leaning forward, his voice softening even more. "I know you don't understand it now, but you're safer with me. Out there, with the Saviors, you'd have a place. A real one, with me watching your back. No one touches you, no one questions you. And someday... maybe someday you'll understand why I did this."

Sunny shook her head, feeling the tears prick at her eyes despite her efforts to hold them back. "I don't want that, Negan. I don't want this world you've built... or whatever it is you're tryin' to prove. I wanted my dad." Her voice cracked. "But he's gone, isn't he?"

For a brief, vulnerable second, Negan's expression faltered. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but he was speechless, the words hurting more than he wanted them to. He straightened, his face hardening once more.

Sunny took a shaky breath, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper. She held it out to him, her hand trembling slightly.

"Here," she said, her voice low but resolute. "You can read it when you're gone."

Negan looked at the letter, then back at her, suspicion flickering in his eyes before something softer took its place. He took it from her hand, his fingers brushing hers for the briefest second, and she pulled her hand back sharply.

"Sun..." he started, his tone uncharacteristically hesitant. He studied her face, searching for something. "I get you're mad. When all of this is over, you'll understand. You will."

She took a step back, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "I'm not goin' back with you, Negan. You can tear everythin' down out there, make a show of it, but it doesn't change anythin'."

Negan's jaw tightened, his expression shifting to something harder, almost desperate. "No," he said firmly, tucking the letter into his jacket. "You're coming back with me, Sun. I don't care what it takes."

Sunny shook her head, the anger and hurt twisting inside her. "I'm not yours to take. This is my home, and whatever you're doin' out there... you're killin' any chance we had."

Negan's eyes flickered with frustration, but beneath it was a flash of something else—fear, maybe, of losing her completely. He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "I came here tonight to bring you home. Not to ask, not to argue, but to bring you back. You think I can just leave you here, after everything? I won't let this place, these people, turn you against me."

She held her ground, her voice barely a whisper. "You already did that yourself."

That hit him, a crack in his facade, just for a second. He let out a slow breath, staring at her with a pained intensity. "We're not done here, kid," he said, his tone shifting back to cold determination. "Not by a long shot."

Suddenly, the faint creak of the front door echoed up the stairs, and both Sunny and Negan froze. A familiar voice called out in a hushed, urgent tone, weaving through the silence.

"Carl. Judith. Michonne. Sunny..."

It was Rick.

Sunny's heart leapt, and she took a step toward the door, desperation and relief flooding her all at once. But before she could shout out to warn him, Negan's hand shot out, grabbing her arm and yanking her back. His grip was firm, silencing her with a quick, commanding look.

"Not a word," he whispered harshly, his eyes sharp with warning.

Sunny struggled, her body twisting as she tried to pull away, but Negan's grip only tightened. Her eyes darted to the doorway, her mind racing, torn between breaking free and risking Negan's wrath, or obeying in the hope that Rick would somehow figure it out on his own.

"Rick!" She wanted to scream, but Negan covered her mouth, his expression a mixture of frustration and something like regret.

He leaned in close, his voice a low murmur. "Keep quiet, please, Sun."

She glared back, heart pounding, her muffled voice slipping out in a desperate plea.

Rick's footsteps grew closer, each one slower, more cautious as he moved through the house. Just as he stepped into view, Negan lunged forward, slamming the bat hard into Rick's stomach, knocking the breath from him. Rick stumbled backward, crashing to the floor, gasping for air.

"Rick!" Sunny cried out, darting forward. She barely managed a step before Negan shoved her aside, a firm but restrained push meant to keep her out of the way.

Negan's voice dropped to a cold, mocking tone as he swung the bat again, making contact with Rick's side. "This shit isn't funny anymore," he growled, leaning down as he yanked Rick's weapons free, tossing them across the room with a clang. "Don't make me do this now, Rick. I got plans for you. Gonna cut you up into little bitty pieces, feed you to the dead, and make you watch."

Sunny's heart raced as she scrambled to her feet. She couldn't just stand there, watching Negan tear Rick apart. She ran up behind Negan, tugging on his arm, trying to pull him back, to stop him somehow. "Negan, stop!" she begged, her voice desperate. "This isn't what—"

"Sunny, stay back," Negan warned, shaking her off with a frustrated snarl before turning his focus back to Rick. He raised the bat, swinging down hard, but Rick twisted just in time, the bat slamming into the floor with a loud thud instead.

Negan's face contorted with irritation. "Then, when you're some kind of messed-up, creepy stump with a head," he continued, his voice laced with chilling amusement as he swung again, "that's when I'll kill you... in front of everyone."

Rick, panting and seething, glared up at Negan. "Do you ever shut the hell up?"

Negan laughed, unbothered, lifting his bat once more. "Nope!" he shot back, swinging it down with renewed force.

Sunny's heart pounded as she watched Negan raise the bat yet again, his eyes flashing with cruel satisfaction. She couldn't just stand there any longer. With a surge of determination, she rushed forward, grabbing Negan's arm, trying to pull it back. "Negan, please, stop!" she yelled, her voice cracking. "This isn't the way!"

Negan barely flinched, but he shot her a warning glare. "Sunny, I told you to stay back!" he snapped, shaking her off. "This is grown-up business."

"Sunny!" Rick's voice cut through, fierce and unyielding. "Go!" His gaze locked on hers, desperation mingling with command. "Now!"

She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "No, I can't leave you."

Rick's expression darkened, his face tense with urgency. "Run, Sunny!" he growled, eyes pleading even as his voice grew firmer. "Now, go!"

Negan's attention wavered just enough as he tried to reach for her, but Sunny managed to slip past him, her heart pounding as she darted toward the doorway.

"Sunny, don't you dare!" Negan roared, lunging to grab her, but in that split second, Rick sprang up, throwing himself against Negan with all his weight, catching him off guard. They stumbled backward, grappling fiercely, Negan's bat clattering to the floor as they fought.

Sunny glanced back one last time, fear and worry churning inside her, before she took off down the hallway, Rick's words echoing in her mind. She quickly made her way out of the house, hearing the clattering of furniture get quieter and quieter.

Sunny dashed down the front steps, her heart racing as she threw herself into the chaos outside. The streets of Alexandria were a nightmare—fires raging, homes reduced to rubble, debris scattered everywhere. Explosions rang out, shaking the ground beneath her feet as she ran, ducking her head as a nearby building erupted in flames. She had to stay low, moving quickly to avoid being seen by any of the Saviors roaming the streets.

A shot fired just behind her, and she barely dodged, her breath catching as she forced herself onward, refusing to slow down. The smoke and dust stung her eyes, blurring her vision, but she knew exactly where she needed to go. She pushed herself forward, weaving around the scattered remains of Alexandria as she zeroed in on the sewer entrance just ahead.

Finally, she reached it, crouching low and slipping into the opening, her hands gripping the edges as she quickly climbed down. Her feet hit the ground below, and as she took a steadying breath, she felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around her.

"Sunny!" Daryl's voice was rough, filled with both relief and worry as he held her close. He pulled back just enough to look her over, his eyes searching her face. "You alright?"

She nodded quickly, catching her breath as she forced a small smile. "Yeah... I'm okay."

But when she finally met his gaze, she saw something there that stopped her short. His face was etched with pain, his eyes dark and hollow, like he was carrying the weight of the world. He looked... defeated. His hands continued to grip her, as if to shield her, as if to steady her. But why?

What was wrong?

.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞

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I'm sorry for following the show and killing Carl off, but I fear I'm not creative enough to keep him alive lmao.

But I will forever hate AMC for killing him off. Carl deserved sm better.