They thought their plan would work. They thought Eugene would distract the Saviors and they would get Maggie to the doctor at Hilltop on foot. It was working. It really was working. Until it wasn't. Whistles rang out from around them. They all looked around, frantically trying to find the source of the sound, but it was coming from all over. Rosie caught a glimpse of some shadows in the trees. They were surrounded.

"Go! Go!" Rick shouted.

The group picked up their pace, but they couldn't run as fast as they wanted with Maggie on that cot. They couldn't leave her either. As they ran through the forest, Rosie, Carl, and Ian leading the way with their weapons raised, the whistles only seemed to get louder. They reminded Rosie of the whistles she used to hear from birds on early spring mornings; the chickadees outside her window singing spring's here! Except these whistles were lower and gave her no comfort whatsoever. She was scared out of her mind.

When the group ran out into a small clearing in the woods, they were suddenly blinded by bright, yellow lights, stopping them in their tracks. Rosie squinted her eyes, looking over to Rick for any sort of command or direction, but he gave none. The few whistles from before erupted into even louder whistles from all around them. They were completely surrounded. People appeared from the trees, leaving the group with nowhere to run. Rosie spun around, taking in her surroundings. The RV was there with Eugene kneeling on the ground in front of it. The bright light from before came from car headlights. Each and every person around them had a weapon. There was no escaping this. There were too many of them.

The whistling came to an abrupt halt and a man with brown, graying hair started to speak. It was the same man who was at the front of the first roadblock. Rosie was pretty sure that he was in charge. "Good. You made it," he said. The sadistic smile on his face made Rosie want to run away and hide, but she couldn't. She had to be brave, and she had to be tough. "Welcome to where you're going. We'll take your weapons," the man said. Rosie looked to Rick again for guidance, and no one made any move to hand over their weapons. Then the man pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at Ian, seeing as he was the smallest- aside from Rosie, that is. But if Rosie really was Rosie, the man couldn't shoot her. He'd be killed for that. "Now," he said.

Rick tried to catch his breath, staring at the weapon and then at the kid in front of it. "We can talk about it," he tried.

"We're done talkin'. Time to listen," the man said. His eyes were wide with some sort of evil spark inside of them. Rosie froze in her spot when a man appeared behind her, gripping her arm harshly. Her heart beat fast as he slightly lifted up the bottom of her shirt and took each and every weapon from her belt. Her gun: gone. Her hunting knife: gone. Hell, even her puny pocket knife: gone.

The main man himself took Carl's weapon, and Carl only glared at him, his eyes squinted with rage. "That's yours, right?" the man asked. Carl gave no answer. The man leaned in closer with a smile. "Yeah, it's yours."

After flicking Carl's hat, the man stood up tall again. "Okay," he looked over to Maggie on the cot, "Let's get her down and get you all on your knees. Lots to cover." Abraham, Aaron, Sasha, and Rick lowered the cot to the ground and helped Maggie off of it while Rosie, Carl, and Ian stood to the side, unsure of what to do. As Rick and Abraham helped Maggie to her knees, one of the Saviors dragged Eugene over to them. "Gonna need ya on your knees," the man demanded, standing tall in front of Rick. Rick hesitated, taking in his surroundings. His eyes landed on the kids. Carl and Ian were looking right back at him, their eyes wide and afraid, while Rosie was staring at the dirt, looking like she wasn't even really there.

Rick looked back at the man and slowly lowered himself to his knees, followed by Sasha, Aaron, Ian, Abraham, and Carl. Rosie didn't want to. The last thing she wanted to do was to kneel down to these bastards. She looked over to Rick, her leader, and he was looking back at her with pleading eyes. Despite the fury erupting inside of her, Rosie put aside her dignity and dropped herself to the ground.

"Let's get the other ones," the man said once they were all on their knees. "Right now. Dwight!"

"Yeah?" the same blonde man with a scarred face spoke, appearing from behind the other Saviors. He was who Daryl was looking for. He should've been dead by now. He should've already had a bolt through his head. Why was he still here?

"Chop chop."

Rosie watched as Dwight walked over to a van. He swung the back doors open. She couldn't see who was in the van, as the Savior's bodies blocked her view. "Come on. You got people to meet!" she heard Dwight say. The first person he pulled out of the van was Daryl. Rosie's breath hitched in her throat when she took in the sight of him. He was pale and blood was splattered across his upper body. He was followed by Michonne, Rosita, and Glenn, all in similar conditions. The Saviors roughly pushed them down onto their knees.

Glenn froze when he saw Maggie's sickly form. She had cut her hair since the last time he saw her, not to mention that she looked like she was on the verge of death. "Maggie?"

Daryl looked around at the group, praying that none of the kids were there. But, of course, it didn't take long for his eyes to stop on Carl, Ian, and Rosie, who were to the far right of the lineup. Carl was looking at his dad while Ian looked to Glenn, and Rosie stared back at Daryl. She was scared and she wanted him to tell her what to do, but there was nothing they could do. This was where they were going. They'd made it. They would've made it no matter what they tried to do.

"All right! We got a full boat! Let's meet the man," the man who Rosie thought was in charge spoke. He walked up to the RV and knocked twice on the door before stepping off to the side.

Then, the real man in charge sauntered out of the RV, a baseball bat leaning lazily on his shoulder. Rosie couldn't quite see his face yet, as he stood in the shadow of the RV. "Pissing our pants yet?" the man asked.

Rosie's heart skipped a beat when she heard his voice. It was the same voice that would shout good eye! when she didn't swing at a bad pitch, and keep your eye on the ball! when she did swing at a bad pitch. But it couldn't be him. There was no way it was him. His people wouldn't do this. He was good. He was. He really was. The man stepped forward into the light, revealing his smiling face. At the sight of the him, Rosie wanted to jump up and run over to him to tell him all about what had happened to her in the few years it had been since she last saw him, but she didn't. She couldn't. Because now he wasn't Coach Smith; he was the man who was going to kill someone.

"Boy, do I have a feeling we're getting close," Coach Smith said, gazing at the line up. Rosie hung her head low, keeping her face covered by her hair and the brim of her hat. Just don't look at him, she told herself. She didn't want to see him this way. He was different, and it scared her. "Yep. It's gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon."

How could this be the same man? How could he have changed this much?

"Which one of you pricks is the leader?" he asked.

"It's this one," the Savior who Rosie used to think was the man in charge spoke, gesturing towards Rick. "He's the guy."

Coach Smith walked up and stood in front of Rick, gazing down at him with a look of both anger and joy that Rosie couldn't understand. He sighed. "Hi. You're Rick, right?" he asked. Rick didn't say anything. "I'm Negan."

Rosie wanted to scream. She felt it coming. She felt the control draining out of her body as she tried to grip onto it for dear life. Negan. She knew she recognized that name when she heard it back at the Hilltop. She should've known. She should've known that it was Coach Smith.

"And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I took your people hostage for killing my men, those hostages killed more of my people and burnt my outpost to the ground," Negan said. Rosie wondered if he knew that it was her who did that- along with Maggie and Carol. "Also, also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed even more of my people. Not cool. Not fuckin' cool. You have no fucking idea how not fucking cool that shit is. But I think you're gonna be up to speed here shortly. Yeah. You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes." A smile grew on his face. "Fuck yeah, you are."

This man wasn't Coach Smith. It was someone else in Coach Smith's body. This wasn't the same man. This was Negan.

"You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter fuckin' what, you do not mess with the new world order. And the new world order is this, and it's really very simple. So, even if you're fucking stupid, which you may very well be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes. Pay attention." Negan swung the bat off of his shoulder. He pointed it at Rick, making him flinch. "Give me your shit... or I will kill you."

Negan stood straight up again, his face switching from a serious look to his sadistic smile. It wasn't the smile that Rosie remembered. The one she remembered was different; more genuine. "Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That's your job. Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow, but swallow it you most certainly will."

Rosie refused to look up at Negan. She kept her gaze at the dirt in front of her. She felt like if she looked at him, she'd either want to run up and hug him or run up and kill him. She didn't know what she would do. She wanted to see him again all this time, but now she wanted to be anywhere but here; anywhere that Coach Smith wasn't.

Negan stayed in front of Rick. "You ruled the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe. I get it. But the word is out. You are not safe. Not even fuckin' close. In fact, you are fucked. More fucked if you don't do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. And if that's too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it'll even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone knocks on your door... you fuckin' let us in. We own that fucking door. You try to stop us and we will knock that fucker down. You understand?"

Rosie looked up for a moment to see if Rick was going to say anything. He looked terrified, and that terrified Rosie. He was the one she often looked to for guidance- the one everyone looked to for guidance- and he was on the verge of tears as he was faced with Negan and the Saviors. That was how Rosie knew that this was bad. Really fucking bad.

"What? No answer?" Negan asked, leaning forward and cupping his ear. "You don't really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished, did you?"

The word punished repeated in Rosie's head.

"I don't want to kill you people. Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me. You can't do that if you're fuckin' dead, now, can you? I'm not growin' a garden. But you killed my people- a whole fuckin' damn shit load of them," he stopped and placed a hand on his chest, raising his eyebrows, "More than I'm comfortable with. And for that? For that you're gonna fuckin' pay."

"So now... I'm gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you," Negan said, making direct eye contact with Rick. He spun his bat around in his hands. "This," he said, looking at the baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire, "this is Lucille." Rosie frowned, recognizing the name. It was the name of the nice woman who would cook her dinner if she ever came over needing the help that Coach Smith always offered. Whatever happened to her? "And she is awesome. All this," Negan said, gesturing around the lineup, "all this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor."

He walked around for a moment, stopping in front of Abraham. Abraham kneeled tall and stared him right in the eyes. Even in his weakest moments, he was brave. Rosie wanted to be as brave as he was. "Huh," Negan said. He reached up to his own very short beard that was growing in, "I gotta shave this shit."

He moved on to stand in front of Maggie. "'Jesus! You look shitty! I should just put you out of your misery right now," he said, taking in her pale and sweaty form.

Glenn jumped up at that. "No! No!" he screamed. It didn't take more than a second for Dwight to get him on the ground and start beating him, even as Maggie screamed at him to stop. Rosie's heartbeat was so loud that it almost drowned out Negan's voice by itself.

"Nope. Nope, get him back in line," Negan said with a sigh. Dwight dragged Glenn back to his spot in the lineup as he begged for them not to kill Maggie. "Alright, listen. Don't any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down, no exceptions. First one's free. It's an emotional moment. I get it."

Negan turned, noticing the kids at the far right of the lineup. Rosie held her head even lower, trying not to look at him, as Negan sauntered over to stand in front of Carl. Carl glared up at him. "You got one of our guns. Woah. Yeah. You got a lot of our guns." Carl just kept glaring at him, his eyebrows furrowed. "Shit, kid. Lighten up. At least cry a little."

A moment later, Rosie felt a flick on the brim of her hat. She knew it was Coach Smith. She could see his shoes as he crouched down in front of her. "No shit," Negan spoke quietly the moment he recognized the logo on the cap. Rosie resisted flinching when he reached forward and tapped her chin, making her look up at him and fully reveal her face. "Rosie Starling Banks," he said, a small smile on his face.

Everyone's eyes shot over to the pair, wondering how the hell Negan knew her full name.

Why does he know her middle name and I didn't?

Rosie glared at him with hard eyes, and Negan gestured towards her face. "Your dad give you that bruise?" he asked, remembering all the times Rosie would show up to baseball practice with a new black eye.

"No," Rosie replied firmly, trying to stay brave, like Abraham. "One of your people did. Before I killed him."

A strange smile grew on Negan's face and he stood back up, leaning his bat on his shoulder again. "Wow, Banks. You've upgraded from playground fights to murder." He took a few steps back, looking around at everyone. "Guys, can you believe this? This kid was my star player!"

Rosie's heart beat hard against her ribcage. She didn't like being called Banks anymore. She looked over at Daryl and he was already looking back at her with concern and confusion. Why did she know him? Was this why they wanted to know her name so badly? What was he going to do to her? These questions ran their way through his mind until he remembered the picture that Rosie kept in her backpack. That man's face was on that picture.

"Kid was a great catcher, but she couldn't throw a pitch to save her life," Negan reminisced, chuckling at the memory. He stepped back over to Rosie and crouched in front of her again, examining her face. She looked older, but still the same. "Who do you think it should be?" he asked her.

Rosie stared at him, eyes narrow and angry. "It don't gotta be anybody," she said.

"Oh, Rosie. Yes, it does," Negan said, that same frightening smile still on his face. He pulled the hat off of her head, looking at the logo for a moment before tossing it on the ground. That hat represented who he used to be, but he was different now. He was Negan. "Come on, Banks. You really gonna make me choose on my own?" Negan asked.

"Leave her alone. She's just a kid," Carl spoke up. Rick's eyes widened as he stared at his son.

Negan just chuckled, standing back up. He looked at Carl and then back at Rosie. "Found yourself a new big brother, huh, Banks?" he asked, the words stinging like ketchup on a canker sore. It was silent for few moments. "Sucks, don't it? The moment you realize you don't know shit." Negan looked between Rick and Carl, coming to a realization. He looked at Rick and pointed his bat at Carl. "This is your kid, right? This is definitely your kid!"

"Just stop this!" Rick shouted.

"Hey!" Negan yelled, spinning around to look at Rick. "Do not make me kill the little future serial killer. Don't make it easy on me. I gotta pick somebody. Everybody's at the table waiting for me to order." Negan began walking around them again, whistling. "I simply cannot decide," he said with a smile. Then he turned around and laughed, rubbing his brow. When he turned around again, he had a new, excited smirk on his face. "I got an idea," he said.

He sauntered over to Rick, holding his bat up in front of Rick's face. "Eenie..."

He moved to Maggie next. "Meenie..."

Abraham. "Miney..."

Then Michonne. "Mo."

He went on down the line, pointing the bat at each and every person kneeling down in front of him, even Rosie. He had no intentions of killing her- or any of the kids, for that matter- but the Alexandrians couldn't know that. They had to know that he was serious. They had to know that he had no mercy. They had to understand.

"My mother told me to pick the best one and you are..."

He stopped. "It."

"Hold the girl back. She's got a history of doing stupid shit," Negan said, gesturing towards Rosie.

Hands squeezed around Rosie's biceps, hurting her a little bit. She squirmed in their arms, but it was no use. "Coach Smith," Rosie shrieked, her heart slamming against her ribcage as she struggled in the Savior's grip. "Stop it! You don't have to! You don't!"

"Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy's other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we'll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you're all gonna be doing that."

Negan raised the bat and sent it flying down onto Abrahams skull, and Rosie screamed out in horror, along with everybody else. Everything sounded so much louder than it did before, and suddenly Rosie could feel every grain of dirt and every pebble beneath her knees. She did everything she could to try and get out of the person's grip, but they wouldn't let up. Daryl was right. She was tough, but she was just a kid.

"Taking it like a champ!" Negan shouted. Rosie screamed and cried for him to stop, but he didn't. He kept going, smiling like he enjoyed it. Rosie couldn't breathe.

"Suck... my... nuts," Abraham managed to say, blood seeping from his skull.

Another hit. And another. And another. And another.

"No!"

As she watched her old baseball coach smash in the skull of one of her best friends, Rosie stopped thrashing. She leaned over, trying to hide her face in her legs, but the person behind her kept sitting her back up, forcing her to look.

Negan looked around at everyone, taking in their reactions, and his eyes landed on Daryl. He followed Daryl's terrified gaze across to Rosie. An idea popped into his head, and he chuckled to himself. "Banks, on your feet!" he said, with a sick smile. His point wasn't to traumatize Rosie, it was to terrify everyone else. Sacrifices had to be made. They needed to understand. She was the youngest and smallest of all of them, and they needed to know that he had no mercy. They needed to know just how serious he was. Traumatizing Rosie was just an unfortunate byproduct. No exceptions.

The woman holding Rosie back pulled her up to her feet and pushed her towards Negan. She shakily made her way over to him, purposefully avoiding looking at him or the ground in front of him. When she reached Negan, he placed the bat in her hands. She held it loosely, not bothering to even lift it at all. She felt like her entire body was made of jelly and the bat was made of lead. She was scared. She never used to be scared of Coach Smith.

Rosie looked up at Negan with teary, terrified eyes. He gestured towards what used to be Abraham, on the ground in front of them. "Come on, Banks! Show off your swing!"

Unable to move, Rosie squeezed her eyes shut, her face twisted up as she tried not to cry. It was no use, though. Streams of tears fell anyway. "Coach Smith... please, please, please," she kept whispering, unsure of what she was even pleading for anymore.

Negan found himself almost wanting to apologize, but he didn't. He had to keep up appearances, of course. So he took the bat back from Rosie. "Come on, Banks. I know it's been awhile, but you got this. Muscle memory," he taunted. He brought the bat back up and swung it down onto Abraham's remains once again. Blood splashed onto Rosie's clothes, and she brought her hands up to her hair, pulling, pulling, pulling. Negan pulled her hand away from her hair and placed that bat back in her hands. "Bases are loaded with nobody out. Bottom of the ninth, Rosie," Negan said.

Daryl felt his insides burning as he watched Negan try to force eleven-year-old Rosie to swing a baseball bat down onto what used to be Abraham's skull. He felt his self-control slipping out of his body, through every pore. He wanted to kill Negan again and again and again, because Abraham was gone and this man had taken him away.

Rosie felt her body get weaker, just seconds away from collapsing into the blood and dirt. Negan forced her to raise the bat, but before he could make her bring it back down, he was pushed back with a hard punch to his jaw. Rosie dropped the bat and quickly scrambled backwards, falling onto the ground and covering her face with her hands.

With his hand up to his jaw, Negan took a few steps back and watched as a few of the Saviors restrained Daryl, stopping him from going any further. Rosie watched in horror, quickly jumping back up to her feet as Dwight pointed a crossbow at Daryl's head. "No! Don't hurt 'im!" she shrieked, running towards Dwight and shoving him back. Another one of the Saviors pulled a gun out and pointed at her head, but Negan grabbed onto her arm, pulling her back. He shoved her back into the hands of the woman who was restraining her before.

"No!" Negan shouted, swinging his bat up to point it right at Daryl. "Oh, no," he said darkly. He turned around and chuckled a bit, contemplating his next move. "That? Oh, my! That..." he crouched down in front of where Daryl was being held down onto the dirt, "is a no-no. The whole thing! Not one bit of that shit flies here!"

Daryl's hands were covered in blood, along with the baseball bat being held right in front of his eyes. Rosie watched in horror, hoping- hell, even praying- that Negan wouldn't kill Daryl. Abraham was already heartbreaking enough, but to see Daryl die that way? At the hands of Coach Smith? She was sure that she wouldn't be able to live with it.

Dwight was standing over Daryl. He wore Daryl's vest and held Daryl's crossbow. Rosie's insides burned with rage. "Do you want me to do it?" he asked, pointing the crossbow at Daryl. "Right here."

Negan pulled Daryl's hair, looking at his face. Daryl practically growled with anger, making Negan smile. "No. No, you don't kill them..." he said, "not until you try a little." Dwight lowered the crossbow and, with the help of a few other Saviors, dragged Daryl back to his spot in line. "And anyway..." Negan stood back up, "that's not how it works. Now, I already told you people- first one's free, then- what'd I say? I said I would shut that shit down! No exceptions."

The sadistic smile returned to his face. "Now, I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with... but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important."

Negan looked around at the group. They were all terrified, and angry. He'd gotten his first impression. But it wasn't enough for him.

"I need you to know me."

He stood and stared at everyone again. Rosie locked eyes with him, giving him a pleading look as she ever so slightly shook her head. But he only looked away.

"So..." he lifted the bat into his hands once again, "back to it."

The bat slammed down into Glenn's skull, forcing him to fall into the dirt. Rosie's eyes widened in horror. Glenn wouldn't get to be a daddy.

"No!" Maggie screamed.

Glenn would never meet his baby.

He sat up shakily, his face covered in blood and his right eye hanging out of its socket. "Maggie," he seemed to mutter out.

"Buddy, you still there?" Negan asked, leaning down in front of Glenn with his baseball bat held behind his back. "I just don't know. It seems like you're trying to speak, but you just took a hell of a hit! I just popped your skull so hard, your eyeball just popped out! And it is gross as shit!"

"Maggie, I'll find you," Glenn managed to say.

"Oh, hell," Negan said, his smile gone as he watched everyone's reactions. "I can see this is hard on you guys. I am sorry. I truly am. But I did say it. No exceptions!" He slammed the bat into Glenn's skull once more, and he just kept hitting him and hitting him and hitting him, no matter how loudly Rosie screamed for him to stop. "You bunch of pussies! I'm just getting started."

Blood splattered with every hit. Rosie no longer recognized the man holding the bat. He wasn't Coach Smith anymore. He couldn't be. He was different. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Lucille is thirsty," he chuckled, "She is a vampire bat!" Negan sauntered over to Rick, a wide smile on his face. Rick's eyes were wide and teary, blood splattered across his cheek. "What? Was the joke that bad?"

Rosie could hear her heartbeat, and she was pretty sure she could hear Carl's heartbeat, and Ian's. She could hear the heavy, horrified breaths that each person kneeling in the dirt took. She could hear the crying, and she could hear the tears slipping down her own face. She could hear the gravel crunching beneath her knees when she shifted her weight. She could hear the crickets chirping and the wind blowing in the trees. She could hear Abraham's blood dripping off of the end of Negan's bat. She could hear Glenn's fingers twitching and tapping on the ground.

She could hear Rick making a promise. "I'm gonna kill you," he said, his voice quiet, but honest.

Negan stepped closer and crouched down in front of Rick. "What?" he asked. Rick stared into his eyes with a burning hatred. "I didn't quite catch that. You're gonna have to speak up.

"Not today... not tomorrow... but I'm gonna kill you," Rick promised.

"Jesus," Negan whispered, his eyes moving back and forth between Rick's eyes. Rosie wished he was dead. She wished that when she passed his house on the road that she went inside and found him dead. She wished that she put his walker down. "Simon... what did he have, a knife?"

"Uh, he had a hatchet," the man that Rosie used to think was in charge- Simon- spoke.

"A hatchet?" Negan asked, amused.

"He had an axe."

Negan chuckled, his smile growing wider. "Simon's my right-hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without them? A whole lot of work," he said. His voice was quiet as he spoke to Rick, but Rosie could hear him. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what they would do once this was over with. She didn't know how they'd keep going. Negan didn't seem to care. "Do you have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh... or did I...?" he picked up his bat again, knocking it in the air and clicking his tongue. The longer Rick stared at him, the angrier he got. His jaw kept tick, tick, ticking, and his eyes burned with rage. Negan sighed. "Sure. Yeah. Give me his axe," Negan said, and Simon did so. Negan tucked the axe in his belt and stood back up. He suddenly grabbed onto the collar of Rick's shirt and started dragging him through the dirt, all the way to the RV. "Be right back. Maybe Rick'll be with me. And if not? Well, we can just turn these people inside out, won't we? I mean... the ones that are left."

With that, Rosie and the others were left to stare into the dirt with their wet, teary eyes. Abraham was dead. Glenn was dead. They were dead and the one good person Rosie could say she cared about before the end of the world was the one who had killed them. She could hear Ian crying from beside her, whispering things to himself. She could see Maggie staring over at what was left of Glenn, her mouth slightly open and her skin deathly pale. She could see Rosita and Sasha staring at Abraham's body, their faces contorted with grief. She could see Eugene with his hands over his eyes. She could see Daryl's face all scrunched up like it had been back at her old house. She couldn't hug him this time.

There they waited until sun began to rise.

For a bit, Rosie worried that Rick was dead. But when that RV came back, Negan swung open the door and shoved Rick out. By the collar once again, Negan dragged Rick over to where everyone else was still lined up on their knees. He shoved him down in front of them.

"Here we are. Let me ask you something, Rick," Negan said as Rick sat himself back up. Every second that Negan was there felt like an hour. Every second that he was there, another person could be dead. "Do you even know what that little trip was about?" Negan asked. He waited for an answer, but Rick didn't give one. "Speak when you're spoken to."

"Ok. Ok," Rick breathed out, looking around at what was left of his family. Their eyes were all red and they each had dried tears down their faces.

"That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the same damn way..." Negan explained. He had a smirk on his face, but his tone was irritated. "Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work. So... do I give you another chance?"

"Yeah. Yes. Yes," Rick managed to mutter out. Both his breath and his body was shaky and trembling.

"Ok. Alright," Negan said. He pat Rick on the back and stood back up. "And here it is- the grand-prize game. What you do next will decided whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads." Rosie watched as the Saviors pressed guns to the backs of her family's heads, but she didn't feel one on the back of her own head. She wished that she did. If Negan made the call to kill them, and she was left alive, she wouldn't want to be. "Good. Now... level with their noses so if you have to fire," he paused and made an explosion noise, "it'll be a real mess."

Negan turned and looked right at Carl. Rosie's stomach ached when another sadistic smile grew on his face. "Kid, right here," he said, pointing at Carl and then at the ground next to Rick. Rosie didn't want to lose another brother. "Kid... now," Negan said. Slowly, Carl made his way over to him as Negan took off his belt. "You a southpaw?"

"Am I a what?" Carl asked, hatred like venom in his voice.

"You a lefty?"

"No," Carl said, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side.

"Good," Negan said. He wrapped the belt around Carl's upper arm. "That hurt?"

"No."

"Should. It's supposed to," Negan said, pulling the belt tight. "Alright. Get down on the ground, kid. Next to Daddy. Spread them wings." Negan took off Carl's hat and tossed it behind him as Carl slowly made his way to the ground, laying in the dirt next to Rick. "Simon... you got a pen?" Negan asked. Simon nodded and tossed a marker over to Negan. He took off the cap, holding it between his teeth, before crouching down next to Carl. "Sorry, kid. This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across the forearm. Gives you a little leverage."

"Please. Please," Rick started whispering as he realized what Negan was going to do. "Please don't."

"Me?" Negan chuckled, putting the cap back on the marker. "I ain't doing shit. Rick, I want you to take your axe... cut your son's left arm off, right on that line. Now, I know- I know. You're gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then the people back home die... and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."

"Coach Smith, you don't- you don't have to-" Rosie began to stutter out, her voice all shaky.

"Rosie Banks, I don't think I told you to speak," Negan interrupted, mock disbelief showing on his face.

"But he- he understands," Rosie tried to reason with him.

"You understand. I'm not sure that Rick does," Negan said, pointing down at Rick. Rosie gave him a pleading look, but he just looked away again. "I'm gonna need a clean cut. Right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice. Nothing messy, clean, 45 degrees- give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine. Probably. Rick... this needs to happen now," Negan said, crouching down in front of Rick. Rick was looking around with wide eyes, as if the ground would tell him what to do. "Chop chop. Or I will crush the little fella's skull myself."

"It can- It can be me. It can be me," Rick sniffled, still staring at the ground. Their fearless leader, pleading on his knees. "Y-you can do it to me. I c- I can go with you."

"No. This is the only way. Rick, pick up the axe," Negan ordered. Rick didn't do anything. "Not making a decision is a big decision. You really wanna see all these people die? You will. You will see every ugly thing. Oh, my God. Are you gonna make me count?"

Rick began to sob, still looking around for answer.

"Ok, Rick. You win. I am counting. Three!"

"Please! Please," Rick cried. "It can be me! Please!"

"Two!"

"Please!"

Negan grabbed onto Rick's chin, looking him in the eyes. "This is it," he said. Rick had one hand on the axe and the other on top of Carl's hand. "One!" Rick was sobbing, sobbing, sobbing. Carl was shaking, shaking, shaking. And Negan was smiling, smiling, smiling. Rick raised the axe, still crying and pleading. "Rick," Negan said, making Rick freeze. "You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?" Rick was panting and shaking, unable to speak. "Speak when you're spoken to! You answer to me! You provide for me!"

"Provide for you," Rick barely managed to mumble out.

"You belong to me, right?!"

"Right," Rick whispered.

"Right," Negan confirmed again, finally letting go of Rick's face. "That... is the look I wanted to see." Everything was silent, and Negan took back Rick's axe as he stood up. "We did it. All of us, together... even the dead guys on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure. Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope, for all your sake, that you get it now... that you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you... that is over now."

Negan turned to Rosie again, and her heart started slamming against her ribcage again. Please, let it be over. Please. He nodded to the Savior that had been behind Rosie the whole time.

"Alright, Banks. You gonna make this difficult?" he asked, his bat dangling lazily from his fingers. Rosie's eyebrows furrowed and her stomach churned. What was he talking about? "Yeah. Difficult it is," he sighed and rubbed his face for a moment. "Get her in the van."

The woman behind Rosie suddenly grabbed onto her again, and pulled her to her feet. When the woman started pulling her towards the truck and Negan's words really registered, Rosie finally realized what was going on. She wasn't going to the Hilltop, and she wasn't going home either; she was going with Negan. "No! No! Coach Smith, I don't wanna! No!" she started shouting. She fought the woman's grip, but the woman was grown and strong. Rosie's thrashing and kicking meant nothing. Negan didn't care what she wanted.

"Hey," Daryl's gruff voice grabbed Negan's attention. His heart was hammering in his chest. "You can take me instead. She's- she's just a kid. Take me," Daryl practically pleaded.

"Oh, don't you worry, Daddy number two. You're coming with," Negan said, a smile playing at his lips. "Dwight! Load him up."

As soon as Rosie was shoved into the back of the van, Dwight started shoving Daryl into the van right next to her. Once Daryl was in, Dwight slammed the door the shut, and the two of them were left in the darkness. Rosie could feel the tears starting to flood up to her eyes again, so she hid her face in her hands and brought her knees up to her chest. She could hear Daryl's shaky breathing and he could hear hers, but they couldn't see each other in the dark of the van. Daryl followed the sound of Rosie's crying until he was right by her side. He put an arm around her, pulling her into his side. Together, they grieved.

Coach Smith was forgotten in the dirt, right next to Rosie's baseball cap.