What the fuck have I done?

Before I could stop myself, my trembling hands made their way toward my old friend. His now ashen-coloured skin made all the more apparent with the absence of his baby blues. They were cold and lifeless, milky irises locking on, causing him to gnash his bloodied chompers.

Negan's gloved hand tugged at my shoulder. "Get in the car, honey."

"No." My hands made their way closer to Daryl. It can't be real! It can't be real!

"Your babies need you, Rackel." I feel him push me away, as the sound of metal on leather jolted up my spine.

With hands like Freddy Krueger claws, I swiped at Negan. "Don't you touch him!"

"Sweet Jesus, you must be shittin' me!" my husband snarled, eyes aflame with an anger that only he could muster. With steel-capped boot, he stomped on the spike holding up Daryl's reanimated head.

THUNK!

The sound reverberated in my ears, that awful squelch. "Daryl!" I ran to him, like there was something I could possibly do to make this all better.

Negan's arms surrounded me, pulling me into his web. No matter how much I kicked, clawed, bit and wailed, he didn't budge.

"Close your eyes," he commanded.

"I can't."

"I said close your fucking eyes, Rackel!"

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tried one last time to break free. After my last attempted failure, I whispered, "This is my fault."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" His tone was cold. So cold, that it sent shivers down my spine. "How do you fucking figure that, Mrs. Crucify. This martyr bullshit is growing old really fucking fast." He wrenched my chin, forcing me to look up at him. "Does it get you going? Acting like the weight of the fucking World is on your shoulders? I mean, let's fucking face facts darlin'. Everyone's been dealt a shit stack of cards, just fucking deal with it."

With my open palm, I slapped him as hard as I could. "Fuck you, Negan! Let go of me right now, I need to fix this!"

"There ain't no fixing this shit, sweetheart." He let me go, a cruel and twisted smile disfiguring his face. "Game fucking over! No try again! Do not pass fucking go! And absolutely DO NOT collect two hundred fucking dollars!" He spat out the bitter cud, showing his true colours.

All I could think about was the forest of walker heads, bedraggled locks whipping in the wind. The chorus of moans breaking my soul.

So many good people lost. And for what reason? What am I going to tell Maggie?

"Maggie!" I screamed, crumpling on the ground. My legs moved, sprinting towards the gates. Muscles tore and fire scorched my lungs, but I kept running. "I'm sorry, Maggie!"

Alexandria only looked like a little dot when I started running, but all I could manage in that moment was my flight reflex. The air brushed my ears, as I closed in on my old home. "Open up!"

Aaron was on the gate, holding his hand up, shading himself from the rays. With each breath it became increasingly difficult to re-inflate.

"Open up!" No sound came out. I tripped over my own feet, propelling myself into the ground.

Metallic clicks, revs and screeches filled my ears.

"Jesus, Rackel!" Someone scooped me up, holding me tight. As I took in their scent, my heart soared at the familiarity.

"Daryl?" He smelled of cheap cologne and hard work. I buried my head into his chest, squeezing my eyes shut. "I can't. I can't. It hurts too much."

"I'm sorry you had to see that." His voice was wrong. The inflection, the tone was all wrong. Everything was wrong. "I don't know how I'm going to tell everyone!"

I finally opened my eyes and was greeted with the wrong set of blue irises. Rick looked as shitty as I felt, and for the first time in memory, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"I knew I should've sent Lydia packing!" he exclaimed.

Who's Lydia?

"He's gone, Rick." I let the dull pain crush my heart, knowing that no amount of suffering would ever atone me. "They're all gone."