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"𝐇𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐦."

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.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .

Daryl had decided that Sunny was better off in Alexandria until the bridge was completed, he saw how broken she was, how little herself she was, how scared she was. He couldn't keep her at the bridge, especially since his and Maggie's plan was soon to take place.

Sunny didn't fight it, as much as she wanted to be by the mans side every second, she didn't feel like bothering to argue with him. Maybe being back at home would be good, it'd be a chance for her to try and get better. But, deep down she knew that what had happened couldn't so easily be undone. 

Every night since she'd woke up screaming or crying, thinking that those women had killed her, the blade managing to slice her throat, as the girl choked on her own blood. It was an endless nightmare, one that had forced her to stop trying to sleep all together.

Part of her was angry, angry that people would do that to her simply because she was Negan's daughter. Angry that Daryl let them kill Arat, his understanding for revenge more important than his care for Sunny. It didn't make sense to her.

Sunny kept those thoughts to herself, though. She'd gone through enough, and arguing with Daryl about something that couldn't be changed seemed pointless. Besides, she barely had the energy to keep herself together, let alone fight with him. 

So she'd come back to Alexandria, where Michonne had greeted her with a gentle hug and led her inside to patch up her wounds. She tried to smile when Judith toddled over to hand her a toy, but it felt hollow. Everything felt hollow.

Michonne was careful as she wrapped the bandages around her throat and checked her stitches. Sunny noticed how worried she looked, her gaze soft but sad, as if she could see straight through her. Michonne didn't say much, just squeezed Sunny's hand now and then, reminding her she was safe. But even with her warmth, it was like there was a wall around Sunny, keeping her from feeling it. She was here, but it was like she'd left a part of herself back on that bridge.

Though Michonne was worried and wanted Sunny to stay on bed rest, the girl didn't want to stay in bed all day, trapped in her own mind. So, reluctantly, Michonne agreed to let her get some fresh air. 

And for a reason that Sunny couldn't explain, she knew who she wanted to see, who she needed to speak to.

Sunny stood outside Negan's cell, hesitating for a moment. She didn't know why she was here, why she needed to see him. But something had drawn her down to the basement, and now she found herself face to face with the man who had always been there, despite everything. Slowly, she stepped forward, her body tense and tired.

When Negan looked up and saw her, he froze. His eyes went wide, and he seemed to stop breathing for a second. It was like the air had been sucked out of the room. His gaze moved over her—taking in the bandages wrapped around her neck, the bruises that marred her cheek, and the cuts still healing on her skin. He looked horrified.

"Sunny..." he whispered, his voice full of shock and regret. There was so much guilt in his eyes that it made Sunny's stomach twist. She didn't say anything, just stood there, feeling small and fragile under his gaze.

There was a long, heavy silence, the kind that made the space between them feel like a chasm. Finally, Negan spoke again, his voice soft and broken. "What happened to you?"

Sunny shrugged, her eyes avoiding his. "Just... stuff," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn't want to get into everything, didn't want to relive the pain. She'd already done that enough in her own head.

Negan's hands tightened around the cold metal bars, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned forward, his face full of pain. "C'mon, Sun," he said softly, his tone almost desperate. "Talk to me, kid. Tell me what happened. I need to know."

Sunny let out a shaky sigh, her eyes still refusing to meet his. She could feel the weight of his stare, the desperation in his voice tugging at her heart. But the words felt heavy, caught in her throat.

"People," she said finally, her voice small and hesitant. "People tried to kill me." She swallowed hard, fighting back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. "They... they wanted to hurt me 'cause of you. Because of who you are."

Negan's face paled, his eyes widening in shock. He took a step back, his grip on the bars loosening as the full weight of her words hit him. His mouth opened, but no sound came out, his breath hitching as he tried to process what she was saying.

"I guess," Sunny said, her voice cracking, "they thought it'd be the best way to make you pay." Her eyes flicked up to his, and for a second, she saw the raw pain and guilt that flashed across his face.

Negan looked like he'd been punched in the gut, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had suddenly crashed down on him. He shook his head slowly, his voice barely a whisper. "I never wanted... I never meant for this to happen to you," he said, his words filled with sorrow and regret. "I never wanted you to get hurt because of me."

Sunny shrugged weakly, feeling a bitter emptiness settle in her chest. "But I did." 

The girl didn't even know why she'd came, why she told him. Did she want him to feel guilty? She wasn't sure, but maybe she just wanted him to know, know that everything he had done affected her as well.

Negan looked as if he was about to say something, anything. But then Sunny heard the door open behind her, Maggie walking in.

"Maggie?" Sunny whispered, confused. Maggie never visited Alexandria because she knew that Negan was there, but here she was, visiting him? But, Sunny could see the underlying rage on the woman's face. She was here to kill him.

The woman gave Sunny a look of disappointment, mixed with a hint of anger. Just as she was about to scold her, the girl heard Negan chuckle. Just moments ago, he was hurt, speechless. But that facade had clicked back into place, just like it had done when she was in the Sanctuary.

"Aw, she just gave up the keys, huh?" Negan chuckled. Michonne must have gave Maggie the keys, and Sunny knew why, Maggie had always wanted him dead, and now she was here to do it. "It's a shame, she got the blade, but you... you got the fire. My money was on you."

Maggie moved Sunny back as she stepped towards the bars, glaring Negan down. "So you remember me?"

"Course I do. It's why I thought you were gonna win." Negan replied. 

"Good," Maggie spoke through clenched teeth. "Get on your knees." 

Sunny's eyes instantly widened, she stepped forward, gripping onto Maggie's sleeves. "Mags.. you.. you don't gotta," she spoke, but her voice sounded broken.

Maggie's eyes flickered to Sunny's face, the fury still burning, but there was something else—regret, pain, a sadness that made her look older, more worn down. She pulled her arm out of Sunny's grip, her expression hardening. "I have to, Sunny," Maggie said, her voice firm and unyielding. "I need to do this."

"No... no, you don't," Sunny whispered, her voice barely audible, as if saying it too loudly would make everything shatter. Her fingers twitched, wanting to reach out, to pull Maggie away from the cell, away from Negan. But she didn't move, her feet feeling like they were glued to the cold floor.

Maggie stepped closer to the bars, leaving Sunny behind. "I do," she repeated, not looking back at the girl. Her focus was entirely on Negan now. "You don't understand what he's taken from me. You need to leave."

Sunny swallowed hard, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes. She wanted to say something—anything—that would make Maggie stop, make her see what this would do to her, what it would mean for everyone. But the words wouldn't come. They were trapped inside, lodged in her throat like a stone.

Negan's voice cut through the silence, each word heavy with taunting venom. "I remember you screaming in that clearing. I remember how much I broke you, smashing your husband's skull like that."

Sunny's breath hitched, her eyes widening. What was he doing? She watched him with a growing sense of dread, feeling a knot tighten in her chest. Why was he saying that? Why now? It felt like he was pushing Maggie, egging her on, making her anger boil over. But... why?

"Stop it, Negan," Sunny's voice trembled, barely more than a whisper. She wanted him to stop, not just for Maggie's sake, but for hers. She didn't want to hear about that night, the night that Glenn's blood splattered on her face, each hit echoing in her memory like a nightmare that never faded.

"Glenn," Maggie's voice was brittle, eyes blazing. "His name was Glenn."

Negan's smirk didn't waver. "So, now what? You finally come for... revenge?"

"Justice," Maggie corrected him sharply, her grip tightening around the knife.

"Damn," Negan's breath hitched, the fake bravado cracking slightly. "Thought you'd do this a hell of a lot sooner. It take you this long to work up the nerve?"

"I was always going to settle this. What you did to my husband..." Maggie's jaw was set, voice low and steady. "Get on your knees."

Negan's grin twisted into something almost wild. "What I did to him? You mean how I cracked open his skull and popped out his damn eyeball? How I bashed his big, beautiful brains into the ground over and over while you watched? Is that what you mean?"

"Stop!" Sunny's voice broke, hands tugging at the ends of her hair. It was too much. His words, his tone—she couldn't handle it. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her stomach churned. What was he trying to prove? Why was he forcing Maggie's hand like this?

Negan glanced at Sunny, his expression softening for a fraction of a second, almost as if he saw the pain he was causing her. But just as quickly, his face hardened again, the twisted smile snapping back into place. "Ah, I used to say I didn't like killing. That was a lie. Christ, your old man... that was different. Killing him the way I did, ooh, now that was fun."

Sunny's knees felt weak, her head swimming as Maggie's hands shook, sliding the key into the lock. The click of metal echoed around them, and Negan sank to his knees without hesitation. It was like he wanted this, like he was giving Maggie the justice she craved on a silver platter. Sunny felt sick, her stomach lurching at the sight.

"Get to it," Negan rasped, his voice hoarse. "Have your justice. Kill me. It was worth it."

Sunny's voice cracked as she pleaded, "Maggie, ignore him... He... he doesn't know what he's sayin'." But even as she said it, doubt twisted in her chest. Was he wrong? He was only telling the truth—the ugly truth she tried so hard to bury, the truth about who he had been, what he had done. The memories she'd tried to push away—Abraham, Glenn, Daryl's suffering—they were all tied to him. Why was she still standing here, defending him?

Maggie's gaze was cold and unyielding. "Let me see you in the light."

Negan didn't move, his eyes dark and hollow. "Come on. Kill me. You not have it in you? Don't punk out like Rick."

"Come into the light," Maggie's voice was low, each word a command.

"Kill me," Negan shouted, his voice desperate, almost wild. "That's what you came here for! To kill me!"

"Move into the light," Maggie repeated, her words sharper, colder.

Suddenly, Sunny heard a sound that made her freeze—Negan's choked, broken sob. "Kill me," he pleaded, and his voice shattered on the words. The sound was raw, desperate, a plea that cut deeper than any knife. For a second, Sunny's world blurred, her breath catching as she saw him not as the man with the bat, but as her father—begging, broken.

Before she could move, Maggie threw the cell door open, grabbing Negan and shoving him hard against the wall. His back slammed against the bricks, and for the first time, the sunlight fell across his face. His eyes were red, tears streaming freely down his cheeks.

He was crying, real, gut-wrenching sobs. "Please..." His voice cracked, raw with emotion. "Please, kill me."

Sunny's heart twisted painfully as she watched him fall apart, torn between the love she couldn't let go of and the horror of what he'd done. She wanted to turn away, but she couldn't—couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't stop the tears that blurred her own vision.

"Why?" Maggie's voice shook, barely holding back her fury.

Negan's shoulders sagged, and he looked at her through teary eyes. "You have to. Just do it," he choked out, his voice thick with anguish.

"You tell me why!" Maggie's shout was loud, almost desperate. Sunny flinched, instinctively stepping back. The force of Maggie's anger felt like a slap. "Tell me! Why should I?!"

"So I can be with my wife," Negan's confession came out in a broken sob. "So I can be with Lucille!"

Sunny's breath caught in her throat, and suddenly, her vision blurred as tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn't even realize she was crying until she tasted the salt on her lips. His words hit her like a punch to the gut, each one tearing at the pieces of her fragile hope. He wanted to die. He wanted to leave her. He wanted to be with her mom.

The betrayal felt like a knife twisting inside her. She had been begging, pleading with everyone to let him live, to see the man she thought he could become. But he didn't want that. He wanted to be gone, to be with someone who wasn't here anymore. The realization made her legs feel weak, and she stumbled back, her heart breaking with every ragged breath he took.

Her chest tightened painfully as she watched him crumble in front of them, tears streaming down his face. It was like he wasn't even seeing her anymore, like she was invisible. The ache in her chest grew unbearable, and she pressed a shaking hand to her mouth to hold back the sob that threatened to escape.

Negan's desperate confession echoed in her ears, and she wanted to scream, to ask him why she wasn't enough—why living for her wasn't enough. The sight of him, the raw grief and despair, was almost too much to bear. It was like she was losing him all over again, only this time, he was choosing to leave.

"I should be dead. I have to be dead. And it has to be you," Negan sobbed. "It has to be you because I can't do it. I've tried. I can't. I can't be like this. Please, please don't make me stay like this. Kill me. Please, my little girl deserves better."

Sunny's stomach twisted painfully at his words, and she felt like the air had been knocked out of her. Negan—her dad—was asking to die. He was begging for it. A choked sob escaped her lips before she could stop it, her whole body trembling as she listened to him break apart in front of her.

Didn't he understand how much it hurt to hear him say that? After everything, after every time she'd fought to protect him, to keep him alive, he was here, saying he didn't want to be.

Tears blurred her vision, and she struggled to breathe, each word he spoke cutting deeper. Her hands went up to her hair, fingers twisting in the ends as she tried to make sense of it all, to find something, anything, to hold on to. But there was nothing. Just him, broken and desperate, pleading for an end she couldn't stop.

"No," she whispered, barely able to get the word out. "No, you can't... you can't do this." But he wasn't even looking at her, wasn't hearing her. He was lost in his pain, and Sunny could feel her heart shattering piece by piece.

"Get back in your cell," Maggie finally spoke. Sunny looked over to the woman, frowning.

"No. No. No. Why?" Negan cried out.

"I came to kill Negan, and you're already worse than dead." Maggie told him. "That settles it."

Shakily, Negan got up from the ground, slowly walking towards the cell. "It wasn't supposed to be like this." He then walked into the cell, closing the door behind him as Maggie locked it behind him.

Maggie turned to Sunny, her face tense and angry, but there was something else there too—disappointment. "You need to leave," Maggie said sharply. "Now. Come on."

Sunny didn't move. She couldn't. Her legs felt like they were glued to the ground, her whole body frozen in place. Maggie's words echoed around her, but they didn't seem to make sense. All she could see was Negan, slumped against the bars of the cell, his face hollow and broken. 

The person she'd fought so hard to protect looked like a stranger now, a man who was giving up. It was like the world had gone silent except for the sound of her own heartbeat thudding painfully in her chest.

"Sunny," Maggie snapped, her voice rising. "I said, leave!" There was anger there, like Maggie couldn't understand why she was still standing there, why she wasn't storming out of the room like she was supposed to. But Sunny just couldn't move. She was too scared, too heartbroken to take a single step.

Maggie's eyes narrowed, frustration boiling over. "You think he deserves your loyalty? After everything he's done? Look at him!" She shouted, pointing at Negan behind the bars. But Sunny couldn't. She dropped her gaze to the ground, hot tears slipping down her cheeks.

With a huff, Maggie spun around and stormed out of the cell, the sound of the heavy door slamming shut echoing in the silence. Now, it was just Sunny and Negan. The weight of it was suffocating, the room suddenly feeling too small, too dark.

Sunny didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. All she knew was that she couldn't stop crying, and that the person she could never give up on, had already given up on himself.

The silence was heavy. It stretched on until Sunny couldn't take it anymore, the words bubbling out of her in a broken sob. "Why...?" She whispered, her voice barely holding together. 

She couldn't stop the tears streaming down her face, and her small hands clutched at the hem of her shirt, twisting the fabric in her fingers. All the pain, all the confusion—it was too much. She'd almost died just a few days ago, but somehow, seeing her father like this hurt even more.

Negan didn't answer at first. He just stood there, staring at the floor like he couldn't bear to look at her. His shoulders hunched, his face hidden in shadows. It felt like he was shutting her out, shutting out everything he didn't want to face. 

She took a shaky step closer, refusing to let him hide. "Why are you doin' this?" She asked, her voice trembling. "Why are you sayin' those things? You... you can't mean it."

"Go," he said harshly, his voice rough and raw. "Just... go, Sunny. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't—" He cut himself off, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He was shaking, she realized. He wouldn't look at her.

"No!" Sunny cried out, a desperate edge to her voice. "I'm not leavin' you! I can't... I won't just leave you here!" She stepped even closer, her eyes pleading, her tears unstoppable. She reached for him, but he backed away, almost stumbling. "Just tell me why!"

Negan's face twisted with a mix of anger and pain, and he let out a bitter laugh. "Why?" he echoed, shaking his head. "Why? Look at you, Sunny! You're standing here with a throat that was almost slit, bruises covering you, because of me! Because of who I am. Who I've always been."

Sunny shook her head, refusing to believe it. "No... no, it's not 'cause of you," she insisted, but the words sounded weak even to her own ears. 

Negan stepped closer to the bars, his eyes dark and full of something she couldn't quite name. "Yes, it is because of me," he said harshly, his voice cracking. "Raise your arm, Sunny," he ordered, his tone almost cruel. "Go on, try it."

Sunny hesitated, her bottom lip trembling, but she lifted her arm. The motion was slow, painful, and she couldn't get it past her shoulder before it dropped limply to her side. Her tears fell faster.

"That's because of me!" Negan shouted, his voice echoing in the empty cellblock. "Every single bruise, every cut, every damn scar—you got them because you're my kid!" His voice broke, and he slammed a fist against the bars. "I did that to you. I made you a target. I ruined you."

Sunny stumbled back a step, her face crumpling. "No!" She cried. "You're not... you're not like that. I know you, Dad. You... you protected me! You loved me!" Her voice cracked with desperation, like she was trying to hold onto something that was already slipping away. She didn't want to lose him, not again, not like this.

But Negan just shook his head, his face a mask of anguish. "No, you don't know me, Sunny. I'm not who you think I am," he said bitterly. "I killed people. I enjoyed it. I hurt people because I could, because it made me feel in control. Everything you love about me... it's all a lie. I chose damn power over you."

"Stop sayin' that!" Sunny sobbed, covering her ears, but Negan's words tore right through her defenses. "You're my dad! I still love you!" she cried, her voice breaking with every word.

Negan's face twisted, and he turned away from her, unable to look at the pain in her eyes. "You shouldn't," he muttered, his voice hollow. "I'm that monster, Sunny. The same one who laughed while I bashed in Glenn's skull, who grinned when I crushed the ginger's head in. That's who I am, and you keep actin' like I'm still... I'm still someone worth a damn! But I'm not, and you need to see that!"

Sunny flinched, her breath catching, but she didn't move back. She stood her ground, even as his words cut through her like a knife. "Stop," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please, just stop."

"No, you need to hear this!" Negan shouted, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You need to know what I did, what I am! I killed those people, Sunny! I hurt you, I locked you up! I ruined everything! I ruined you!" He was almost gasping, his chest heaving with the weight of his own words.

Sunny's legs felt weak, and she collapsed to her knees, her body trembling. She wanted to scream, to make him stop, to force him to see that she still needed him, but all that came out was a desperate, heart-wrenching sob. "Please," she begged, "don't leave me. Don't make me give up on you."

Negan glanced back at her, his face wet with his own tears. "I'm already gone, kid," he said quietly, his voice softer, almost gentle. "The man you're looking for... he's dead. I killed him a long time ago." His eyes, which had once been so full of fire and life, were empty now, hollow. He was defeated, a shadow of the person he used to be.

Sunny's heart shattered. This was it—the truth she had been running from, the truth she didn't want to face. She had believed, even hoped, that the man she loved was still in there somewhere, buried under the layers of cruelty and regret. But now, staring into his broken, tear-streaked face, she understood. He wasn't coming back.

Slowly, painfully, Sunny stood up. Her legs felt like they were made of lead, but she forced herself to move. She looked at him one last time, her eyes red and swollen with tears, and the weight of everything she'd lost pressed down on her chest. She didn't have the strength to say goodbye. There were no words left.

Negan watched her, silent and broken, as she turned away. His hand reached out, as if he wanted to stop her, but he let it drop, the bars of his cell the only thing holding him up. It wasn't that he truly wanted her to hate him, but because he believed that's what she should feel.

Sunny took a shaky breath and walked to the door, every step feeling like it might break her. She reached for the handle, pausing for a second, waiting for him to call out, to say something that would make her turn around. But all she heard was the sound of his quiet, broken sobs.

With a final breath, Sunny pushed open the heavy door, stepping out into the daylight. She didn't look back. There was no point. The man she had loved—the father she had fought so hard to save—was already gone.

And as the door closed behind her, sealing him inside, she knew she couldn't save him. She couldn't outrun the ugly truth anymore.

She had to let him go, because he had already let go of her.

Sunny stepped out of the cellblock, her face streaked with tears, eyes red and swollen. She blinked against the harsh light, feeling the weight of everything settle deep in her chest. As she moved forward, Maggie and Michonne turned to look at her, their faces a mix of questions and sorrow.

But before any words could be spoken, a shout cut through the air.

"Maggie! Michonne! Something's up at the camp!"

.・. .・゜✭・.・✫・゜・. .