So obviously I decided to keep up my normal pace of writing and updating. I was too excited to write this part and get it out to wait. The story is really rolling in my head right now and I don't want to stop. I really want to thank you all for the encouraging words. You are such amazing readers and I can't tell you how much I appreciate your support.

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Daryl

When I came to I was back in the cell. I groaned and rolled over onto my back. They had done a good job. They beat the shit out of me but nothing felt broken. It took practice to have that much restrain and know when to back off. Bastards. I pulled myself slowly up the wall, leaning against it for support. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, it felt like I had some bruised ribs.

A shadow suddenly blocked the light from under the door.

"Daryl?" Sherry's voice came softly. "Are you there?"

I didn't respond. I had nothing to say to her.

"There's so many things I wish I never found out. I wish I didn't try. Back in the woods...after I lost Tina...when we took your stuff and we decided to go back. I told you I was sorry and you said. 'You're gonna be'," there was a hesitation and I heard her sniffle. "I am," she said in a low voice. And then she hurried away.

I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. I hated myself for feeling bad for her. She had been dealt a shitty hand, but that didn't excuse her screwing me over when all I did was try to help her.

When the music started back up a short time later it was louder than before. It was so loud it barely resembled music any more and I could feel the beat through the concrete floor. They were trying to break me. Made me wonder if using Sherry was somehow part of their strategy. If so, they were sicker bastards than I had given them credit for. I couldn't trust anything in this place. But that was nothing new. There had never been much in my life I could trust.

Jo

If they thought they could break me like this they had another thing coming. I deserved to be here for what I did to Glenn, but I wouldn't break. I had been through worse than this.

The music stopped so abruptly it startled me. The lock slid and Dwight stepped in. He held out a sandwich but I ignored it. He threw it at me. I watched him struggle with his temper then he whirled to leave.

He hesitated with his hand on the knob. "Eat," he commanded. When I didn't respond he sighed and shook his head. "Look, you got your friend killed. I got Tina killed. And don't pretend like you didn't know the score. We both did."

I lost my temper at that. I was nothing like him. I snatched up the sandwich and threw it in his face as hard as I could. He flinched and turned his head to the side, but let it bounce off of himself. He turned back to me and knelt down in front of me, his temper snapping in his eyes. "You should be dead. But Negan's taken a shine to you. You're lucky. Don't forget that," and he reached into his pocket and taped something to the wall next to my face. "Bon appetit," he growled and he slammed the door and the lock clicked home.

I didn't want to look at the picture. I didn't want to know what it was. But in the end I couldn't stop myself. I had to know. I had to know if it was someone else I loved. If someone else was dead now too. My hand shook as I pulled it off the wall and turned it over.

It was a picture of what had been left of Glenn after I did what I did. It slipped from my hand and I turned towards the wall.

Another song started and I shook my head, trying to drown it all out. Finally, I couldn't hold it back anymore and knowing there was no one here to see I started crying. Glenn had been my friend and his death was fault. Maggie was alone because of me. Glenn's kid was going to grow up without knowing it's dad because of me. I should have been the one to die, not him. I deserved everything they had done to me and much, much worse. My body shook with the force of my sobs. They had depended on me, trusted me and I had gotten him killed. Glenn never would have been out in those woods if it wasn't for me. If I had just-

I cried until I threw up and collapsed against the floor, wishing someone would come back and knocked me out again. Anything so I didn't have to think.

Jo

I tried to think about the good times. The quiet moments between the two of us, but the guilt over what had happened robbed me of that too. All I could think was I had left Maggie with nothing but those memories of Glenn. I didn't deserve the comfort of my own.

I don't know how long it was before Dwight came back. He opened the door and waited for me to get up. When I didn't he stomped into the room and hauled me up by my collar. I didn't fight him. He shoved me out into the hall ahead of him. I didn't feel like fighting at all anymore. I was just empty.

The only thing that kept me going was the knowledge that Jo was out there and if I gave up...Negan might go after her. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't give in and break down.

Dwight shoved me down the hall to the dorm I had seen earlier.

"Step in," he commanded, shoving me ahead of him. I stumbled a step, but didn't fall.

Negan laughed from where he was sitting in the arm chair, a book lay open across one of the arms. Jo would have been able to reach something from his body language or what he was reading, but then she would be here and I didn't want that. I couldn't let that happen, no matter what it took. I kept my chin down and let my hair hide my eyes.

"Jesus," Negan growled climbing to his feet. "You look awful. Don't you worry. We'll have Carson fix you all up. You thirsty?" he asked, and he went to the small kitchen area and brought back a glass, holding it out to me. "Here."

I was thirsty, I was incredibly thirsty but I wasn't about to take anything from this asshole. I took the glass and held it to make my point.

"Oh, I forgot. Your mouth is all puffed up like a baboon's ass. Need a straw? D, get him a straw. What's wrong with you?"

Dwight snapped into motion and went to the kitchen opening one of the drawers. Negan stepped closer to me and motioned over his shoulder towards Dwight. "You see that guy? He hustles. I like that. I like hustle."

Dwight returned and stuck the straw in the glass then took his place behind me once more.

Negan smiled. "And believe it or not, things weren't always cool between us. See, D here, he worked for points, him and his super hot wide and her super hot sister. But see sis, she needed meds and that shit was hard to scavenge so it was expensive. Sis fell behind on points, so I asked her to marry me. I told her I would take care of her in sickness and in health, because I am a stand up guy. She tells me she is going to think about it. The next thing I know I am dealing with an orange situation."

Dwight shifted his weight behind me, but he didn't say anything. He just stood there while Negan talked about him like he wasn't there. He was whipped. Negan's little bitch through and through. I would never be like him.

Negan continued not noticing or not caring I wasn't paying attention. "So Dwighty boy here stole all medication and took off with his super hot wife and my super hot maybe soon to be fiancee." He tapped the bat on the ground and I turned my attention back to him. "So I had to send my guys after him. Because I can't let something like that stand. There...are...rules," he said shoving the bat in my face, but I didn't let him see any fear.

"It cost me an arm and a leg going after him. And you know what? Dwighty boy," Negan chuckled. "He still got away. And here's the thing Dwighty boy saw the light. He manned up, he came back and he asked for my forgiveness. I like that. Made me take notice. But Lucille, well you know how she is. She is a stickler for the rules. So Dwight, he begged me not to kill Sherry. And I thought it was kind of cute so I was just going to kill him. But then Sherry says she will marry me if I let Dwight live. Which if you think about it that's a pretty screwed up deal, cause I was gonna marry her sister until she wound up dead, but...Sherry is super hot. Say...you got yourself a hot wife too don't ya?"

Negan leaned down so he could catch my eye. I wouldn't let him see me thinking about Jo. Jo was hotter than either of them and I knew she would do anything to get me out of here. I tightened my jaw, I couldn't let that happen. Jo gave absolutely everything of herself to save the people she loved. She had done it over and over again and I couldn't let her do it again. I didn't know how much of her was left.

Negan smiled and I thought he knew I was thinking about her anyway. "Anyways, it was a start. But it wasn't enough. So Dwight, he got the iron. And then I married his super hot wife. Ex wife," he added looking over at Dwight with a smirk. He still tortured his guys even after they were loyal to them. "And then after all that he still got on board. And now look at him, BAM! One of my top guys, and we are totally cool." Negan turned back to me. "The point being...You have a lot of potential. I think you can be that guy. I think you are ready to be that guy. You look around here," he said stepping back and holding his arms open to encompass the room. "This...well....this can all be yours. All you gotta do is answer one simple question. Who are you?"

I didn't respond. There was nothing to say. I wouldn't break. I wouldn't betray my family for a cushy chair and stocked kitchen.

Negan chuckled and leaned close. "What? Cat got your tongue. You're just overwhelmed by the awesomeness of this? I'm gonna ask you one more time. Who are you?"

I slowly lifted my eyes to meet his, shaking my hair out of them so he could see my conviction. "Daryl," I growled back.

"You sonova-" Dwight snapped moving towards me. I tightened the muscles, preparing for the blow but I didn't flinch.

"Hey!" Negan yelled, holding his hand up to stop Dwight. Dwight stilled and calmed almost instantly.

"It's cool D. He made his choice. It ain't my problem if he made a dumbass choice," Negan said shaking his head in disappointment. Then he jerked his chin towards the door.

Dwight grabbed me by my collar and dragged me back down the hallway. He kept me off balance so I stumbled the whole way. He shoved me into the cell. I hit the back wall, catching myself on my palms and righted myself.

"You're gonna wind up in that room or hanging on the fence!" he screamed at me.

I slid down the wall and sat, not bothering to look at him. I wasn't going to break.

"I get why you did it," I said in a low voice.

Dwight froze and turned back to look at me.

"Why you took it," I clarified and I looked up at him, glaring at him through the curtain of my snarled hair. "You were thinking about someone else," I said, my voice coming out in a harsh rasp. "...and that's why I can't. I got someone else to think of."

Dwight shook his head, his eyes hard and angry. "How is it gonna help her if you end up dead?" he snapped and he whirled around and slammed the door.

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Jo

I didn't sleep, not really, not anymore. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized it had been a long time since I had really slept. So it didn't matter that it was late when I returned to Alexandria. I snuck back in, climbing over the back fence, so I wouldn't have to answer any questions. No one was awake when I crept up the porch and slid through the door. There was a plate of food sitting on the counter with a note scrawled in Carl's handwriting.

Jo you have to eat

I ignored it. I drank two glasses of water standing in the dark kitchen. I was going for a third when I heard movement upstairs. I flinched, dumped the glass in the sink and slipped downstairs before anyone saw me. I didn't want to have to explain to them where I had been and what I was doing. And there would be questions. Questions I didn't have satisfactory answers to. They couldn't know the truth and I didn't have decent enough lies. I was too tired to be able to lie convincingly and so I hid from my family.

I didn't sleep, not really. I dozed, startling awake only minutes later according to the angry red numbers of the clock. I scrubbed at my eyes, trying desperately to get the images out of my mind. Trying desperately to get the imaginings of all the horror Daryl was being subjected to out of my mind. All because of me. Because I had failed him.

It should have been me.

I couldn't get that thought out of my brain. I ran circles, chasing itself up and down any time I let myself relax. I rolled onto my back. I had to focus. I had to come up with a plan. I had to do something. Jesus hadn't known, but someone had to. There seemed to be hundreds of Saviors out there. I just needed to find one and make them tell me.

I didn't sleep, I couldn't. I just lay in the cold, empty bed and waited for dawn. As soon as the sky started to lighten I got up. I slipped into some leggings, and a tank top. I pulled on my shoulder rig with my handgun and half a dozen knives, but left the rest of my gear behind. I tossed my kukri onto the bed and slid the steak knife into a sheath on my waist instead. If I was going to use it I needed to practice with it again. It used to feel like a part of my arm, but now it had been almost a year since I had fought with it.

I still couldn't believe I had found it, I couldn't believe Daryl had kept it. He wasn't one to do something like that, not without reason and I didn't believe in coincidences. It was here for a reason. I would be the one to plant that knife in Negan and watch him die. I hadn't killed The Governor with it, but that was fine. I hated Negan more than I ever hated The Governor and he deserved to die a thousand times over.

I slid one of Daryl's long sleeved flannel's on and pulled my hair back into a stubby ponytail. I needed to get moving. I needed to do something.

It was cool when I stepped off the empty porch leaving the silent house behind me. I shivered once and I was glad to have the flannel, but I knew I wouldn't need it for long. By design no one else was up yet. I wanted to be done before anyone else from the community showed for our usual group training session. I wasn't in enough control right now to be able to handle something like that. Or rather, I didn't think I would be able to pretend I was okay in front of them and I didn't need any more people hovering over me. I was fine. I just needed to do something.

Keep moving. That had been part of my mantra that had kept me alive through all the hard times that had come before. I couldn't think of a darker time than now...maybe when Kate and I had almost starved together out on the road, after I left Daryl the first time...

Stop, keep moving. I ordered myself. I couldn't do this. I couldn't let myself think. I had to move.

I threw the flannel over one of the targets and did some preliminary stretches. Then I started. I ran through the sequences so many times I lost track. I let my mind slip back into that place and settled into the rhythm my body made as it moved. My skin was sticky with sweat and my hair kept sliding out of the band that was holding it back. I ignored it as it became slick with sweat and clung to my face.

Keep moving.

I kept going. My breath was coming in short, sharp pants as my muscles strained and fatigued. My legs and arms shook as I ran through the attack sequences over and over, but I didn't pay attention. I pushed beyond even that, angry that my body was so weak when I needed it to be strong. If ever it needed to be strong, the time was now.

Keep moving.

I moved to do a forward kick, followed by a block and an uppercut when I stumbled. I tried to right myself but my body couldn't do it. It had reached it's limit. I fell to my hands and knees. As soon as I was down I started retching but there was nothing in my stomach but bile. I hadn't eaten and there was nothing to throw up. The bile burned the back of my throat and my eyes watered as I fought to take control of my body once more. I allowed myself only a few seconds of recovery before I pushed myself up on shaking legs and drew my first knife.

Keep moving.

I was dizzy and my hands shook but I didn't stop until every knife I had landed within two inches of center. I paced towards it, pulled the knives out, paced back and started again. I threw every knife I had, paced to the target, pulled them out, paced back and started again. I don't know how many times I did that. I just kept moving.

"Jo! Jo!" I could hear someone talking but it sounded so far away I knew I had time to throw another couple of sets before they reached me so I kept going.

"Jo! Jo!"

They were closer now, but I only had four more knives to throw to complete this set. And I needed to complete this set. I needed to keep moving.

One.

The blade sank a few inches right of center. I drew the next one, lined up the throw, drew my hand back and released.

Two.

It was better, only half an inch off the center. I was tired and shaking but that wasn't an excuse to mess up a throw.

"Jo?" the voice was closer now and it sounded uncertain.

I was almost done. I would be able to think if I could just throw these last two knives. If I could just finish the set I would be able to turn my attention and focus on something else. I drew the next knife and let it fly.

Three.

It landed in the center. My fingers shook as I pulled the last blade. It was the steak knife, and just the feel of it in my hand brought memories and echoes of pain rushing through me. There was so much muscle memory associated with just the feel of that handle in my hand.

I just needed to throw this one. If I could just do that I would be okay. I pulled it back and someone's hand closed around my wrist, stopping me from throwing it, trapping the knife in my hand.

There was a millisecond where my brain froze. Where I was so overcome with the influx of information and the speed at which everything was happening around me I couldn't focus.

Then I moved.

I twisted my wrist, arcing my body to follow with it. I tightened the muscles in my arm and shoulder so I would be able to pull away as soon as their arm reached the point where it would start to torque on their shoulder. I came around with my left hand and dropped the knife out of my right into it. As my left hand closed around the handle I grabbed the attackers wrist in my hand and reversed the grip, jerking their arm back and up.

My attacker stopped and went still in my hand. They grunted in pain as I pushed the arm just to the edge of doing damage.

"Jo!" a girl's voice screeched my name.

Kate.

I shook my head. No, Kate was dead. Kate had been dead for a long time. But it was someone else who was like her. Someone young and innocent who needed to be protected from the people who had made me the way I was. Someone...

"Jo," the person in my hands was speaking to me and I slowed blinked a few times until the fogginess cleared.

My attacker was staring into my eyes, his face was patient and calm. He was trying not to show the pain, but I could see the discomfort I was causing him in his eye.

"Carl," I said quietly.

He lifted the eyebrow I could see and I released him like his skin burned me. He watched me patiently, far more patiently than I would have with someone who had attacked me. I stumbled backwards a step and my shaky legs struggled to hold me.

"Carl," I said looking at the knife I held in my left hand. I could have...

I looked back towards the girl and saw Enid standing only a couple of feet away, her eyes were wide with fear.

Stop, reset.

I flipped the knife off towards the target lefty, so I wouldn't have a naked blade in my hand. I needed to not have that knife in my hand anymore. I couldn't think with it in my hand. I closed my eyes. As soon as I heard it sink into the target I felt like something clicked in my head, something a little more sane settled into place and I could think at a normal speed again. I could take in everything around me once more, not just what was beneath my hands.

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. Enid's eyes were looking uncertainly at Carl, but Carl looked calm as he watched me. He rolled his shoulder testing it.

I took another breath. "I'm sorry," I said in a low voice. "I'm not...great."

Carl nodded. "It's fine, just a little sore. I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Daryl always-" Something in the look on my face made him stop speaking.

I ran a hand over my mouth and my eyes traveled to the fence. "I should go," I said and I started moving towards the target. I needed to get my knives if I was going to go back out. I couldn't go out there with just the handgun that was wedged under my arm.

"No Jo," Carl stepped in front of me. "You need-"

We both stopped as we heard the loud rumbled of engines. I frowned and my eyes traveled towards the gate. It sounded like motorcycles. Several motorcycles. Then there were more. It sounded like trucks and there was the hiss of air brakes.

"Carl go get your dad," my voice was harsh as I spoke. I swallowed thickly and my mouth felt like someone had shoved it full of cotton.

When neither moved I turned. "Run! Now!" I snarled.

Carl and Enid tore off for the house together. The engines slowly started to quiet as the vehicles turned off. Rosita and Spencer were at the gate. I turned to the target and walked calmly towards it.

I needed to be in control of myself if I was going to do this. There was no getting out of this, no avoiding it. I might be able to make it to the fence before they saw me and run, but I wasn't a coward. I was a lot of things, but a coward wasn't one of them. I wouldn't leave my family to deal with these people without me.

I took a deep breath with every step that brought me closer to the target.

"Stop, reset," I whispered to myself as I reached it. It was a good thing. Every chance I had to observe them was a chance to learn something more about them. And I needed to know everything I could if I was going to kill them.

The last engine stopped and there was a terrible silence. I snagged the flannel off the top of the target and pulled it on. It was too big and I knotted it so it wouldn't impede my movement and it covered my shoulder rig and the gun under my arm. I glanced at my knives. I wanted them, but I wasn't sure it was such a good idea to have them just now. I wasn't sure I had enough control of myself. I had the gun if I needed it, but I wasn't as likely to go off the deep end and make a grab for it. A gun wasn't natural for me.

"Stop, reset," I chanted again and I turned back towards the gate.

The tarp was back lit by the rising sun and I watched as the shadow of a man appeared. It grew larger and larger as he approached and I could see the outline of a baseball bat over one shoulder.

"Stop, reset," I whispered. I needed to be in control. They needed me to be in control. If I lost it, I could get someone killed. I would be in control. It was all just a show.

He rapped loudly against the metal gate with the bat and called out loudly. "Little pig, little pig, let me in!"

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Hope you liked it!!!!