- Rick's POV - 
present

I slowly exhale through my nose, as if I could breathe out the rage that's threatening to consume me. I close my eyes for a moment, attempting to calm the erratic pounding of my heart and the searing rage simmering beneath my skin. It's a fire burning through my veins with every passing second, rushing through me, distorting my hearing and overwhelming my senses.

With painstaking effort, I lift my gaze, my vision tainted red. Through my haze of fury, I lock eyes with Daryl, who stands on the other side of the living room, clutching a full glass of lemonade that Carol had given him earlier. A glass he hasn't touched.

The room feels as though it's closing in on me and the rest of our family gathered. Daryl's just finished explaining to all of us who Negan's wives are.

What Cass has to endure there.

What Negan does to her.

Daryl's expression is a grimace of pain, mirroring the distress on the faces of the rest of our family, who've just absorbed the shock of his words. The weight of his words hangs in the air like smoke, burning my lungs, suffocating me.

Every fiber of my being is aflame, screaming with a fury that intensifies with every word that escaped Daryl's mouth. It's as if a storm of anger rages within me, thundering louder and growing more tumultuous with each syllable he utters.

Swallowing back the bile in my throat, I nod, my nostrils flaring with anger at the unbearable truth.

She's being forced, against her will, to be in that fucking place. And Negan... Negan forces her to-

Exhaling sharply with a resolute nod, I swiftly unbuckle and snatch my axe from my belt. The familiar weight of the weapon in my hand grounds me, providing a semblance of control in a world spinning out of it.

He's dead.

I turn without a word, storming towards the nearest exit. My vision pulses, so strong that I can barely see the front door. I don't even know where to go, all I know is that I need to find that asshole and kill him.

"Rick!" Daryl calls roughly, the urgency in his voice making me pause, my hand on the doorknob, my chest heaving.

"Yeah, come on, Rick. It's the middle of the night," Glenn adds, his rational words piercing the charged air and hitting my chest.

[ A/N: I'M WEAK!! COME ON, OFC I DIDN'T KILL GLENN! ]

I clench my eyes shut for a fleeting moment, attempting to regain some semblance of control, to try to reel back the wall of blinding anger threatening to take over. When I turn to face my family, I see them gathered, watching me with a sympathy that makes me nauseous.

Reluctantly giving in, I take a few slow, deliberate steps forward, my body shaking with pent-up anger, my grip on the axe handle so tight that I'm surprised the wood hasn't splintered at this point.

Maggie watches me beside her husband, their expressions soft with compassion. Carol is behind them, her brows furrowed deeply in thought. Luckily Carl and Judith are in bed.

"Don't go, Rick. Cass told me not to let you," Daryl breathes, his eyes searching mine desperately.

I let out a short exhale, my anger momentarily suspended as I shift to face Daryl, blinking in confusion. "What do you mean?" I ask roughly, my heart pounding.

Daryl sighs, looking down. "When she helped me leave, the first thing she said was to tell you not to go after her," Daryl tells me, his brows pulled together tightly, panic written across his exhausted expression.

I stare at him incredulously, my heart jolting in my chest. "She helped? Why didn't she come with you?" I demand wildly, my chest heaving.

Why would she help him leave, but not come herself?

Daryl closes his eyes, shaking his head and releasing a frustrated huff. "I tried," he sighs, his voice tinged with helplessness. "She... she said she had things to finish." He mutters, his words filling me with a baffling sense of confusion.

"What things?" I demand, my grip on my axe loosening as I look back at my brother in bewilderment, searching his expression for answers.

"I don't know." Daryl sighs, clenching his jaw. "She just said 'Don't let Rick come after me.'" Daryl tells me, searching my gaze urgently.

Clenching my jaw, I close my eyes. Damn my beautiful, brilliant, and stubborn wife.

"You haven't been there. Even with all our guns, we wouldn't stand a chance against all 'em," Daryl adds, his voice of reason breaking through my thoughts.

My stomach wrenches, pain coursing through me once again. God, imagining what Cass must be feeling, what she's been going through-

Maggie's voice breaks through the turbulent thoughts, coming from somewhere to my right as I attempt to regain control, focusing on my breathing to keep my emotions in check. "How did she help you out?" Maggie asks, a question I'm wondering myself, as my heart continues its unrelenting drumbeat.

But I don't hear the answer through my faded hearing, my mind becoming consumed with Cass.

How the hell does Cass expect me to just let her stay there? Does she seriously think that I can breathe knowing what she has to go through? Knowing that all this time, while she's been alive, she's been through hell?

"....What else did she say?" I ask quietly, my voice trembling with a raw vulnerability that I should be embarrassed by, but I can't find myself to care.

I slowly meet Daryl's gaze as I watch a flicker of confusion dart across his expression. He glances briefly at Maggie, who he's clearly in the middle of a conversation with.

Daryl exhales, tilting his head down for a moment before squinting up at me past the strands of hair that hang in his face. "She said somethin'..." he trails off with uncertainty, his brows furrowed deeply before he starts again.

"She said to tell you that she... 'likes Louise'," Daryl mutters, his voice tinged with hesitancy as he meets my gaze, clearly not having a clue what it means.

... but I do.

Shock crashes over me, sending chills rippling down my arms and spine as I let out a shuddering breath, my world temporarily tilting on its axis.

"She said what?" I demand wildly, blinking at Daryl in disbelief, my chest heaving, unable to fathom what he just said.

There's no fucking way.

___

- Cass's POV -

- month two -

I glance down at the young boy still cuddled against my side, now fast asleep. I still can't comprehend that this sweet boy is Negan's son.

Gingerly, I run my hand through his soft, blonde hair, my heart heavy with a mix of emotions. As I look down at the sweet boy, tears threaten to fall from my eyes. His hair is so much like Judith's little curls, a bittersweet reminder of my baby girl.

Again, despite the aching in my heart, having this child cuddled against me, just as I wish Judith was, is helping me. Somewhat.

The door quietly clicks open, and in walks Georgia and Louise, looking around curiously. When they spot me, they simultaneously freeze, their eyes widened before they rush over.

The last time they saw me, I was scream-crying so hard that I blacked out. Their excitement to see me awake is understandable.

"Oh honey, are you okay?" Georgia whispers, her voice laced with worry as she searches my face. I manage a tired smile and nod in response, grateful for her concern.

"Jesus, what's Derek doin' here?" Louise questions, her tone hushed as she glances at the sleeping boy, her green eyes filled with apprehension.

Glancing down at the passed-out child briefly, I meet Louise's expression with a helpless look. "He's sick, and his 'Nanny' said he had to wait here," I offer quietly, a sense of exasperation in my voice as I mention the enigmatic 'Nanny,' making Louise frown.

"Fuckin' Susan," Louise mutters under her breath with a frustrated tone, shaking her head in disbelief before gently sitting down on the bed next to me and the small boy.

Georgia perches on the end of the bed as well, her watchful eyes never leaving us.

"Why did no one mention him before?" I ask the pair, looking between their expressions. I thought if Negan had a son, everyone would know about it.

Louise sighs heavily. "Negan's extremely protective of him. Derek is his and Lucille's kid," Louise explains, making my eyebrows shoot to my forehead.

"Lucille is a person?" I ask, gaping at my friend in shock. Georgia nods solemnly from the back, confirming the truth of Louise's words.

"She was Negan's wife before all this. She died not too long after because of her cancer when Derek was just a baby. Negan never talks about her, but I managed to get the truth outta him one night thanks to a very large bottle of whiskey,"  Louise explains, making me sigh, glancing down at the asleep boy beside me.

I find myself wondering about what parts of him might come from which parent. His hazel eyes are undeniably Negan's, with the same shape and color. Yet, it's the subtle differences, like the curve of his nose, that might be inherited from his mother.

As I watch the child sleep, a sense of tenderness washes over me, and I can't help but think that maybe Lucille was kind. And maybe that's what made this little boy sweet too.

"Not a lot of people know about Derek, I can't believe Susan just dropped him off here," Georgia murmurs, shaking her head with disapproval.

Gently, I move my hand from Derek's hair down to his forehead, cringing at the heat that seeps onto my palm from his searing skin. "He said he has the flu that's been goin' around and was supposed to see the doctor," I mutter, glancing down at him in growing concern.

A kid with the flu is not a simple thing. Especially now. I have no idea what extent the strains are and after what happened at the prison... The flu could make him develop side effects like pneumonia, bronchitis, or if it gets really bad, encephalitis- a brain infection. We do not want that.

"Louise, I know you got that stash of food, d'you have any beans or nuts?" I ask curiously, making Louise turn to me with confusion.

"Um, let me see," Louise mumbles, carefully rising from the bed and heading to her own, where she retrieves the container of stashed food she's managed to accumulate over time from under her bed. She quickly sifts through its contents, revealing a collection that is predominantly made up of expired candy, alcohol, and canned goods, leaving me to hope that somewhere within it, there might be something that can be of help to Derek.

"G, can you boil some water?" I request, nodding in the direction of the small kitchenette against the far wall. Georgia glances at me, and then her eyes briefly flit to Derek, a hint of concern in her expression, before she nods and starts doing as I've asked.

"Okay, I've got baked beans and... walnuts," Louise reports, reading off the bag of nuts, making a tired smile grow across my face at the sight.

"Good. He'll need some zinc, and they'll help," I murmur, my gaze shifting to the flushed boy lying beside me. The Zinc will boost his immune system so it can better fight this thing off.

I'm reluctant to wake him now because his rest is important, but I also know that this will help his symptoms. The steam from the boiling water will soothe his nose, lungs, and throat, especially given his earlier sniffles and coughing.

"How do you know all this?" Georgia asks, her curiosity getting the better of her as she turns around after putting the pot on the stove.

"She knows medicine," Louise answers, before turning her gaze on me. "Don't you?" she asks pointedly, reminding me that I hadn't provided an answer to that question from over a week ago.

I nod once, making Louise's smile widen. "I knew it," she whispers, seeming pleased with herself.

"That's how you knew about my nose!" Georgia exclaims from the kitchenette, her enthusiasm filling the room and sending a flutter of amusement through me. I'm unable to hide my smile, shaking my head in response.

"Thank God for your bloody nose, George, otherwise we'd still be stuck with that mute b-"

I cut Louise off abruptly with a swift but gentle kick to her side, causing her to erupt into laughter, her grin reflecting her good-natured spirit. I join in her laughter, appreciating the light-hearted moment amidst the usual tension.

But I freeze as I feel the young boy stirring beside me, making me look over with wide eyes as he blinks, slowly waking up. His hazel eyes, from behind his large glasses, first blink at me, before turning to the other woman on the bed.

In a second, his tired and flushed expression is replaced with pure joy as he spots Louise. "Lou Lou!" He exclaims, quickly untucking himself from me and clumsily climbing across the bed to throw himself onto her.

Louise's expression crinkles with fondness, and she lets out a sound of surprise as he slams into her. "Oh! Jeez Der, you're getting strong!" Louise laughs, her crinkled green eyes finding mine for a moment, genuine warmth and affection shining in her gaze.

I've seen her delighted before, like when she got me to speak, but it's nothing compared to the pure happiness on her face now.

"Nanny dropped me off and-and said I had to stay until she took me to the doctor," Derek informs Louise as he climbs onto her lap, looking up at her expectantly.

"Oh, is that right?" Louise asks, her eyes briefly flicking to me with amusement as a matching smile grows on my face.

Before long, the three of us have convinced Derek to have a spoonful or three of baked beans while engaging him in conversation, sneaking in a couple of walnuts as well. We carefully position the pot so that the steam billows across his face, which fogs up his glasses adorably.

I can tell that the small boy is feeling slightly better, his smile a bit wider, and his cheeks less flushed. We continue to joke and chat with him for a while, telling him the stories he's requested.

I even decide to share a bit about Judith, wanting to brighten his spirits. "I think you'd really like her," I say warmly, before describing the similarities between them. Derek's eyes light up as he listens intently.

"She may be young, but she has the brightest personality," I inform him proudly, my voice soft and tender, laced with love and adoration for my baby girl.

"Where is she?" Derek asks curiously, tilting his head to the side as his innocent question causes my smile to falter.

I clear my throat, exchanging quick looks with Louise and Georgia, both of whom are watching me with sympathy.

I hadn't told them about Judith yet.

"She's, um, back at my other house," I explain briefly, my voice tinged with a hint of regret. Derek's brow furrows slightly in response.

Then his little expression shifts into a pout. "I never get to see other kids," he mumbles sadly, striking my heart with a swell of empathy.

I reach out to pat his shoulder comfortingly. "One day you'll get to, honey, I'm sure," I assure him softly, blinking back tears as I speak.

Derek just blinks up at me, nodding slowly, and I can't help but feel a profound sense of sadness for the childhood he's missing out on. At least our kids have each other.

He's alone.

As if on cue, his nanny, an older woman with straggly grey and black hair, enters the room to take him away. Seeing the four of us, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a can of beans and a pot of water, makes her send us a strange look before escorting the waving boy out.

"He's a cute kid," I murmur as the door shuts behind them, turning back to the pair on the floor with me. It was the only way we could convince Derek to eat the beans and inhale the steam, with all four of us together on the ugly rug.

Louise grins proudly, taking a swig of her beer. "Yeah, he's adorable. You wouldn't think that he spawned from that dickhead," Louise mutters, shaking her head.

I hum in agreement, glancing down at my glass of water, my mind drifting to what has changed in my own life now that the distraction of a sick child is gone.

Suddenly, I feel a reassuring hand on my knee. I turn to my left to see Georgia's concerned blue eyes looking at me. "What happened?" she asks carefully, her words deepening the dread that's twisted around my spine.

"It was my people. Everything that happened... was to them," I confirm breathlessly, my chest tight with pain. Georgia's expression crumples with compassion, her head tilting to the side, making her blonde hair shift over her shoulder.

Unable to hold her sympathetic gaze, I look down with a slow exhale, fighting to keep my composure. Keep it together, Cass, come on.

"That's not it though. Is it?" Louise's careful voice asks from my right. My stomach flips as I slowly raise my gaze to meet hers.

Her determined green eyes meet mine, unflinching as they search for my expression, inexplicably able to read me. Blinking past tears, I shake my head.

"No. It's not. I'm..." I take in a shaky inhale, my nerves buzzing. "Pregnant," I breathe, my voice quivering with the emotion tightening my throat, unable to believe my own words.

Shock floods Lousie's expression, her eyebrows raising and mouth parting as she blinks at me. "You're..." she trails off, her wide eyes flitting down to my stomach before finding my face once again.

I nod in confirmation, releasing an even shakier exhale, desperately trying to overcome the overwhelming waves of disbelief and dread that threaten to consume me.

"Does Negan-" Georgia starts, her voice filled with concern, but she doesn't need to finish the sentence, as I nod once again.

"He made me test," I tell them, my voice barely above a whisper, unable to meet their gazes. Instead, I fix my eyes on the beige woven rug we're sitting on, my thoughts consumed by the painful memories.

With Derek here, I had managed to push aside the painful reality for a while. But now, being reminded of it, it's like my lower abdomen is suddenly thirty pounds heavier. The truth of what's growing inside me feels like an oppressive weight, a constant, painful reminder.

"Hey, it's going to be okay," Louise's gentle voice breaks through my panicked thoughts, making me blink through my vision, now blurred with tears, to see her empathetic and kind expression.

"You're not alone. I know it feels like you are in this hellhole, but you have us. I promise," Louise swears, her voice filled with sincerity as she searches my expression. Her words provide a flicker of hope in the darkness, and I quickly wipe away my escaped tears, nodding, my bottom lip quivering.

Surprise washes over me as Louise crosses the rug and hugs me tightly. "You're not alone," Louise repeats quietly by my ears, making a sob escape me this time as I gingerly hug her back. Gratitude swells in my chest as I embrace this woman who, three weeks ago, I hated.

A chuckle escapes me next as I feel an additional pair of arms hugging me, knowing it's Georgia. "We're here for you, honey," Georgia adds, her words filled with reassurance, making me nod, sniffling and crying like a mess. The genuine care from these women provides a glimmer of consolation in the hopelessness I've been drowning in.

Eventually, we break from our mushy hug, returning to our spots on the floor.

Leaning against my bed, I wipe my tears, trying to collect myself. At least I have an explanation of my rollercoaster emotions. Damn thing is fucking with my hormones already.

"So... you mentioned before when tellin' us about your family that you had a guy? Is the baby his?" Georgia asks gently, making me turn to her.

My heart aches, wishing I knew how to answer her. "I... don't know. I have no idea how far along I am or when my symptoms actually started," I explain, shrugging helplessly.

Without an ultrasound, it will be nearly impossible to even pinpoint how old this thing is.

"So, it might not be Negan's," Louise offers hopefully from my right, her words carrying a flicker of optimism, making me turn to her.

Technically, It could be Rick's. I guess I didn't let myself think that hopefully. But we did have plenty of unprotected sex. Given that I was an IVF baby, I didn't think kids were even a possibility for me, let alone something I wanted.

"I guess," I breathe, finding myself tearing up at the thought of this baby growing inside me being Rick's. Like a little part of him is with me, comforting me through this hell.

But we already have our baby. I don't need this one too.

Louise grabs my hand, her reassuring, making me meet her earnest gaze. "It doesn't matter. This kid is yours. And therefore ours too," Louise says, a grin pulling at her mouth, so contagious that I feel a genuine smile creeping across my expression.

"Thank you," I breathe, squeezing Louise's hand, making her grin widen. A grin that used to irk me that now fills me with comfort.

"Hey, why don't you tell us about this guy- your boyfriend, husband...?" Georgia suggests, clearly wanting to change the subject to something happier.

A slight chuckle escapes me as I turn back to my other friend, amused by her eagerness to learn about Rick, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

I sniff. "Well, he's technically my fiancé. But I uh, had a different fiancé that kinda ruined that title for me, so um, I prefer to refer to him as my husband," I mumble, glancing down at my slightly torn pajama pants as the duo watch me patiently.

"We met a month or so after the turn, as I told you. And we've been close friends since. But I always had a huge crush on him," I admit, my cheeks heating slightly at the memory. The thought of those early days of our friendship brings a nostalgic warmth to my heart. Everything seemed so simple back then.

"I never thought we would happen, but about three months ago, we finally realized just how much we cared about each other," I explain, a smile tugging at my mouth at the memory. I still remember the feeling of disbelief and happiness that flooded through me when Rick told me how much he cared.

"Wait- so you guys are engaged after a month?" Georgia asks with surprise, making my cheeks flush again as I meet her surprised eyes.

"Technically," I clarify gingerly, "But we've known each other for a while. It just took us that long to realize that we both wanted to be more than friends. It was a long time of us just being clueless, but it was worth it in the end." I explain breathlessly, a bittersweet feeling washing over me.

"He proposed one morning out of nowhere, telling me that he just knew. There was no reason to wait," I recall, blinking slowly as memories of that morning flash behind my eyes. The warm sunlight streaming through the window, our white sheets crumpled around us, and Rick's perfect, rumbling voice as he asked me to marry him.

"That's so sweet," Louise beams, and as I look over, I see her expression crinkled with emotion. I simply smile in response, cherishing that memory.

"That was the last day I saw him. Before I was taken here." I say softly, watching the emotion on Louise's expression turn to empathy, her mouth parting and eyes widening.

"No," Georgia breathes from beside me, making me nod and close my eyes, trying to reel back my emotions. The pain of that separation still lingers, and recounting it only brings back that stubborn longing for him.

"I'm so sorry, Cass," Georgia breathes, and with my eyes still closed, I simply nod, knowing I won't be able to say anything without breaking down.

"Did he get the ring right?" Lousie asks, her seemingly random question making me pause, slowly open my eyes, and meet her curious gaze.

"What?" I reply, blinking in surprise, the abrupt shift in topic catching me off guard.

Louise cracks a smile, her eyes soft. "Did he get the ring right- like if you wanted silver or gold?" She questions, tilting her head to the side with curiosity.

I let out a breath. "Y-Yeah, he did actually. He somehow remembered one gold necklace and watch I wore," I explain, making Louise's grin broaden.

"Good. I've always said that a man shouldn't marry a woman unless he knows which metal to choose," Louise grins, seeming proud of Rick, despite not even knowing him.

But her specific string of words tug at the back of my mind, bringing a memory to the surface.

Rick's faded voice floats through my memory "... Someone told me once that you should only marry a woman if you know what color metal to pick"

A strange feeling washes over me as I focus on Louise, watching me curiously. I focus on her blue-green eyes, her tanned skin, and her brown curls.

"... What? Do I have somethin' on my face?" Louise asks, a slightly nervous smile twitching at her mouth, making me blink harshly, shaking my head as I realize I've been staring at her for a minute or two.

"N-No," I stutter, trying to compose myself because there's no way. But a question begins to gnaw at me and I can't shake it.

"So when you said you were going to see your brother, you said you drove down the coast... were you headed to the South?" I ask, my stomach fluttering with nerves at the idea growing in my mind.

Louise blinks at the seemingly random change of the conversation, her expression a mix of curiosity and confusion. "Yeah. Just outside Atlanta," she confirms, though she looks perplexed by the direction of the conversation.

My chest shudders, my heartbeat steadily increasing at the possibility of the situation in front of me. "And his name?" I ask breathlessly, my chest rising and falling quickly as I stare at her in disbelief.

Louise furrows her brows for a moment, a confused expression on her face. "Rick. Why?" she asks, causing my eyebrows to shoot up in astonishment as the realization crashes over me.

"Rick... Grimes?" I ask with raised eyebrows, my voice breathy and wavering, making Louise's expression wrinkle with confusion as she leans back slightly.

She glances at Georgia before her eyes dart back to mine. "Yeah. Is this some sort of joke?" Louise questions, but I'm already looking away from her, trying to control my ragged breathing.

Rick never mentioned having a sister. Then again he never talked about his family.

Oh my God.

Closing my eyes, I try to control my breathing and my racing heart, unable to believe what is happening. That Rick's goddamn sister is sitting in front of me. That she's been here since the beginning.

"Lou, I have no idea..." Georgia begins, but I interrupt her, locking eyes with Louise, my voice shaking.

"Rick is my fiancé. The guy I was talking about," I tell Louise, causing her blue-green eyes to widen in astonishment, her expression a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

She begins to shake her head, still in denial. "No, you're wrong. Rick is married-"

"- to Lori?" I interject, causing Louise to stop in her tracks. She goes rigid, her chest heaving as she blinks at me in bewilderment.

"How..." Louise breathes, her voice filled with disbelief and the beginnings of comprehension.

I let out a shuddering breath "Lori died in childbirth." I explain gingerly, part of my heart aching for the memory of Lori. At what she sacrificed to ensure Judith could live.

Louise's hand hovers over her mouth, tears brimming in her eyes as the weight of reality sinks in.

"The baby's okay- Judith. Carl suggested her name-"

"Oh my god! Carl!- is he okay?" Louise interrupts breathlessly, wildly searching my gaze for answers.

A smile breaks across my face as I quickly nod, watching the relief flood her expression. "Yes! Louise, he's fine. He's a teenager now with a girlfriend," I inform her knowingly, emotion constricting my throat as Louise laughs wetly.

"Oh my god," Louise breathes, her hands covering her face in disbelief as she tries to process the news. "Wait... So Rick Grimes, Mr. Perfect, my brother, who stressed over proposing to Lori for over a year, proposed to you after just a month?" Louise demands, her eyes wide, making my mouth part with surprise, before confirming it with a nod.

Louise's brows raise as she looks back at me, stunned. "He must really love you," she breathes softly, her brows crinkling in the middle as she looks at me, tilting her head to the side as if trying to read me.

My cheeks flush. "So he says," I murmur sheepishly, making her let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head.

"Wait so, your people- some of them are Louise's family?" Georgia asks, making my smile slowly fade at the reminder.

Realization dawns on Louise, her expression quickly shifting to one of concern.

Dread twists my stomach at being reminded of everything they've been through and that I have no idea who is okay and who isn't.

Louise and I make eye contact, my heart aching at the expression of sincere worry on her face. I offer her a reassuring look.

At least we're in it together.

- the next morning -

"Hey," Louise breathes, making me turn to her, offering a weak smile as I get my dress ready for the day.

"Hey," I respond softly, sniffling, pushing past the lingering discomfort of my swollen eyes and sore throat from all my sobbing.

"You doing alright?" Louise checks, searching my expression curiously, her green eyes filled with empathy.

Inhaling slowly, I nod. "I mean, learning that you're Rick's sister was amazing," I breathe, and Louise's smile widens as she nods in agreement, understanding the mix of emotions I must be feeling.

"But, I'm still here. Pregnant with what I'm pretty sure is Negan's baby, I'm consumed with guilt and disgust, and now I get to go and lounge around in this ridiculous dress." I spit, the rising anger making me ball up the dress and toss it across the room before pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes.

My heart is pounding heavily, sending anger and defeat coursing through me as I remind myself of the horrific prison I'm stuck in. The dress is a symbol of my powerlessness, and I can't help but resent it.

"And there's no way out," I finish weakly, swallowing back my sobs of defeat.

Before I know what's happening, I'm being hugged by Louise, her curls tickling my face.

Exhaling sharply, I hug her back, finding comfort in knowing that the woman I'm hugging is Rick's sister. She should be my sister-in-law. And she's here with me.

"It's not hopeless," Louise breathes, making me pause, gently untucking myself and pulling away from her. Searching her sincere expression, I blink at her in confusion, my heart rate increasing slightly.

"What d'you mean?" I ask, not ready to hear her tell me that the parasite growing inside me is some beacon of hope.

"Louise, don't," Georgia snaps from behind me, her voice laced with protective harshness. I glance at her resolute expression as she shakes her head. "She doesn't need to be a part of that," Georgia adds with a tinge of disgust, her gaze unwavering as she focuses on Louise.

"She's my sister-in-law. She's strong enough," Louise argues, a defiant spark in her eyes, creating a bewildering rift in the room.

Georgia huffs, making frustration and confusion knot in my chest. "It's not about her being strong, she has a baby-"

"-What the hell are you talking about?" I demand, looking between the two women, desperate for an explanation.

Turning to face Louise, I see her expression set with determination as she looks at me.

"I know. After hearing what you've survived with my family, how you've protected them, I know you're right for this. I can trust you," Louise breathes excitedly, making me squint my eyes slightly with confusion.

Louise licks her lips nervously, her eyes darting behind my shoulder at Georgia before focusing back on me. "I'm part of a group, one that's rebelling against Negan," she explains, sending shock fluttering through me, my stomach twisting with a strange sensation of hope.

"We have a good amount of people—cooks, soldiers, guards, and even one higher-ranking officer. We all hate the way Negan runs things and want him gone," Louise explains, her eyes alight with excitement.

I blink at her in astonishment for a second. "So this whole time you've been pretending to be Negan's perfect wife... you've been plotting to what... dethrone him?" I ask, the corner of my mouth twitching up with amusement, a sense of amazement growing in my chest.

Louise cracks a grin, shaking her head in response. "No. We want to take down the entire Sanctuary," she clarifies, her voice laced with a determination that takes me aback. In this light, seeing the confidence and iron will in her eyes, reminds me so much of Rick.

"It's been a slow and dangerous process because there is nothing Negan hates more than traitors," Louise explains briefly, sighing with the weight of their challenge before she meets my gaze. "But that was before we had you."

"Me?" I ask, blinking in surprise, not yet understanding what role I could possibly play in their rebellion.

"Cass you don't have-"

"George. Let her choose." Louise interrupts, crossing her arms and sending Georgia a firm look before shifting her gaze back to me. "We never had someone with your experience. Your knowledge."

"My knowledge?" I ask, furrowing my brows.

"You know medicine, I don't know how much, but you do. Anything could help," Louise implores, her eyes searching my expression with desperation.

I look at her for a moment, catching the familiarity in her features. Her curls, her smile, and those eyes- eerily similar to her brother's. But apart from the looks- its the determination. The strength.

She's undeniably a Grimes.

"I was a surgeon," I reveal, watching the amazement light up Louise's expression, the corner of her mouth pulling into a smile of awe.

"Holy shit. We have a doctor in the family," Louise breathes, her eyes twinkling with joy, making my heart warm. "Damn," she curses, and I can't fight the chuckle bubbling up my throat in response.

"So that means you have an extensive knowledge of the human body. Of science-chemistry. You know all of it," Louise states, blinking at me in amazement.

"Louise, you can't," Georgia breathes from behind me, her voice filled with genuine concern. I look over my shoulder and meet her worried expression, offering a reassuring look.

"Thank you, G, for looking out for me," I tell her softly, appreciating her concern. Her sweet smile breaks through her concern as a response, her eyebrows still knitted together.

Returning my focus to Louise, I meet her determined gaze, feeling a surge of purpose within me. This is how I get out.

This is how I save them.

"I do. I know all of it," I confirm Louise's thoughts about my scientific knowledge, making her expression shift with excitement.

"Whatever you want, whatever you need, I'm in," I assert with determination, sealing my commitment with unwavering resolve.

Louise Grimes grins back at me in response, pride shining in her eyes.

- a few days later -

Louise sends me a look and nods once, signaling her readiness. I glance briefly at the clock on the wall, my nerves beginning to grow.

It's time. Negan should be returning soon.

Suddenly, a deafening crash of shattering glass rings out, and Louise cries out loudly, her scream sending my heart racing, even though it's all part of the scheme.

Whirling around, I find Louise cradling her hand, her palm covered in glass shards, blood, and water. Even though this is planned- Louise's idea- it still pains my heart to see her suffering like this.

Rushing to her side, I give her a quick but meaningful look before I begin barking orders to the startled wives around us. Georgia reluctantly joins in, her expression conflicted.

Sherry promptly hands me a towel just as the ominous sound of Negan's whistling reverberates down the hallway, sending a shiver down my spine.

He's here.

Louise meets my gaze, determination blazing in her eyes as she nods. Then her expression transforms into one of intense pain, and she cries out again, tears welling in her eyes.

Not being able to help it, my eyebrows raise slightly. Her acting is impressive, I'll give her that.

"Frankie- get the vodka, now. We need to disinfect it," I urge her, reminding myself of the ridiculous medical dramas I watched in high school.

I hear Negan coming in behind us, his sentence getting drowned out by the frantic voices, women shuffling in panic, and Louise's convincing cries of pain. My heart races in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I maintain my focus, back to the door, only paying attention to Louise.

Play it up.

"Her radial artery could be severed by that shard, we need to control the bleeding! Louise, can you move your fingers? I need to make sure your palmar aponeurosis is intact and operative," I spew out the over-the-top terminology as Louise hyperventilates in response, shaking her head helplessly.

"What the hell is goin' on?" Negan demands loudly from right behind me, making me flinch.

Quickly whipping my head over my shoulder, I meet Negan's wild hazel eyes as they scrutinize me and his favorite wife. "She cut her hand, I'm trying to help her," I explain breathlessly, my chest heaving.

Negan shifts his furrowed gaze to Louise, whose cries have calmed down slightly, tears still glistening on her cheeks. "How?" Negan demands, locking his intense gaze onto mine.

I gulp. "I'm a surgeon."

Despite my initial reluctance to this plan, not wanting Negan to know my strongest skill, Louise convinced me.

If I can prove myself useful enough, I'll get access to the infirmary and potentially- all their medications. And that is how we take them down.

"Alright Louise, get up, you're going to the infirmary." Negan orders, stepping forward and helping Louise to her feet. She wobbles on her heels, looking at me with wide eyes as Negan's distracted, examining the damage to her hand.

Before I can say a word, or find some way to manipulate Negan into letting me go, Negan shifts his attention to me. "Take her. You're coming too." he orders, passing Louise to me, making me grab her, supporting her side.

I send one last look to Georgia before helping Louise follow Negan, my heart pounding with apprehension.

Walking with Negan is a strange experience. In every hallway he walks down, the Saviors within will immediately drop to their knees in a show of submission. Negan, however, pays no attention to them, striding ahead and clearing the path for me and Louise.

As we navigate through the halls of the Sanctuary, I take in my surroundings, making a mental map of every turn we take. It's been a while since I've seen this much of the twisted building, and there's no way I'm wasting it.

Before long, we arrive at the infirmary on one of the ground floors. Louise whispers to me that the prisoner cells are located just down the other hall.

Negan ushers us inside the small infirmary, and I help Louise onto the patient bed. It's a modest room, cluttered with endless boxes haphazardly placed at the entrance.

"Perfect timin' to be hurt, darling, we just got a shipment of goodies," Negan remarks, nodding toward the boxes with a sly grin.

I step forward, my curiosity piqued, narrowing my gaze as I inspect the boxes. It doesn't take long for me to realize.

These boxes contain our medicine. From Alexandria. My stomach drops.

"W-Where did you get all this?" I ask quietly, putting on my usual timid act as I turn to face Negan, who leans casually against the far counter.

Resentment burns in my chest at his stupid fucking face as he lounges against the counter without a care in the world.

My aggravation worsens as a proud smile tugs at his mouth. "You know Rick's people I told you about? Well, it was about time we got their stuff. They had quite the stockpile," Negan grins, grabbing a surgical tool to the right of him and fiddling with it.

Rage surges through me. I know better than anyone else how well-stocked our medicine is, given I was the one fucking doing it.

"Oh," I respond quietly, struggling to keep my raging emotions in check. I rummage through my supplies to retrieve gauze, sutures, a needle, and antiseptic. As I return to Louise's side to see her looking down at her injured hand, inspecting it.

"So you're a surgeon then?" Negan asks as I begin to carefully remove the glass shards, my hands steady despite the searing anger coursing through me.

I clear my throat, glancing at his infuriating face for a moment before focusing on my work. "Y-Yeah. Pediatrics." I confirm, gently taking the largest shard of glass out. Jesus, Louise really committed.

"Still know how to treat adults?" Negan questions, his playful smirk evident from just his tone, making irritation flutter through me. I hide it carefully as I place down my tweezers and grab my cotton ball soaked with antiseptic.

"Yes. I still trained just as any other surgeon, Pediatrics was just my specialty," I explain shortly, trying desperately to keep myself from sounding irritated.

"Where's Dr. Carlson?" Louise questions as I focus on cleaning her wounds, suddenly being reminded of the many times I've tended to her brother.

Negan sighs. "Fucker just tried to leave and betray me. So I had to kill him. But why worry about him when I got a surgeon right here?" Negan says, making me spare him a glance, forcing a fake smile.

Suddenly, the long amount of time Derek was left in our room makes sense. Can't exactly take a kid to the doctor if the doctor's being tortured and killed for being a traitor.

"You know this could be great. Carlson was just a family doctor, not a surgeon," Negan mutters thoughtfully, making my stomach flip. Covertly, I glance at Louise, sharing a quick look.

Our plan is working.

"I-I wouldn't mind helping out. It would give me something to do," I offer weakly, nerves coursing through me as I gingerly grab my suturing kit.

"Do you not like being my wife?" Negan asks, his tone turning cold. I freeze, slowly looking over at his hardened expression. 

"No- I do. I mean, I just miss helping people like I used to," I explain quickly. "Even when I wasn't working, I used to volunteer in oncology," I say with a gulp, trying to hide my manipulative lie.

Negan's hardened expression twitches slightly, the shift almost too quick and subtle to tell. But I caught it, satisfaction flashing through me knowing that connection to Lucille did it.

Negan sighs, blinking back what seems to be actual emotion, not a common sight for him. "Alright, Cassie. I might just let you then." Negan confirms, turning and busying himself, muttering about finding a lollipop in Dr. Carlson's stash. I turn to Louise with wide, excited eyes, which she returns swiftly before putting her mask of pain back on.

My triumph is short-lived, however.

When I've finished with Louise's stitches, Negan decides we're going back to the wive's room. As he opens the door of the infirmary, my stomach throttles at the sight of Dwight, Sherry's guy, escorting a prisoner past us.

It only takes me a millisecond to realize. To recognize the figure shrouded in shadows and revolting sweats as he's escorted past.

As the pair rounds the corner, I recognize the unmistakable scruffy black hair that belongs to Daryl fucking Dixon.

___

It's a few days later when I finally get the chance to speak to Negan to get information.

They've been holding Daryl prisoner for about two weeks now, and Negan seems disturbingly proud of that fact. It's obvious that he takes great pleasure in holding someone this important to Rick in captivity.

If only he knew.

Daryl's been locked in that awful cell for the most part, except for a brief trip when they forced him to visit home just to rub it in their faces that they had him, all the while taking our supplies. Hearing the satisfaction in Negan's voice as he recounted the pain he could sense my family was going through was unbearable.

The Saviors going after my family was what I was trying to avoid for the longest time. And it happened anyway.

And it enrages me.

As Negan gleefully recounts the information in the safety of his bedroom, I repeatedly remind myself that Louise and I are going to destroy him.

That we're going to bring this asshole down from the inside out.

When Negan mentions something about Daryl being sick, I seize the opportunity to offer my medical expertise, emphasizing the importance of preventing any potential spreading within the Sanctuary, given that there's already flu going around. The mere suggestion of losing some of his men seems to unnerve Negan enough to grant me access.

That's how I ended up being escorted to the first floor of the Sanctuary the next day, walking down the dim, oppressive hallways of the prisoner block.

As I pass by one cell, an eerily cheerful but faded tune plays on repeat, sending shivers down my spine. Eventually, the guard and I come to a stop in front of what must be Daryl's cell, my stomach churning and heart racing with nerves.

I'm about to go in after the guard unlocks the door, glancing at him as he seems to want to come in with me.

"Do you really want to watch me give him a physical? The man who's been vomiting?" I question the guard who has accompanied me down here, making him pause to consider.

"Fine, close the door behind you. No funny business," the guard grunts, and I nod, relief fluttering through me.

"Not sure what I could possibly do," I mutter under my breath as I summon the strength to wrench open the heavy metal door. My trembling steps carry me into the cell, clutching my medical bag with a sense of determination.

With a resounding thud, the heavy door slams shut behind me, leaving only a slim beam of light filtering in through the crack at its base.

My heart aches as I fix my gaze upon Daryl, slouched in a corner in a sleeping heap. He's a pitiful sight, curled up with his knees pulled tightly against his chest. The gross sweats he's forced to wear are even worse up close, discolored and tattered. Daryl's head hangs low, his dirty hair forming a curtain, shielding his face from my view.

Seeing Daryl, my family, like this breaks my heart. I never thought I would see the day.

He's the strong one. He always has been.

The small, dank room reeks of vomit and sweat, singing the inside of my nostrils. Thanks to the many years before and after the turn of enduring horrible smells, I quickly push through it.

I drop my medical bag, the heavy thud startling Daryl awake. At the sound he flinches, his entire body jolting with a start. He whips his head in my direction, probably seeing only the outline of my figure given how dark it is.

Daryl looks at me, his once-familiar eyes immediately widening with fear, pure terror contorting my friend's expression. My heart clenches as I witness the sheer horror in his eyes.

"N-No-" Daryl mutters desperately, his voice quivering as he scrambles backward, pushing himself further into the corner.

My stomach drops, and I instinctively take a step backward, my own emotions threatening to spill over. Fighting back the tears behind my eyes, I crouch down slowly to get to his level, holding my hands out.

"It's okay! It's me," I breathe softly, my voice trembling with emotion and my heart pounding relentlessly as I try to reassure him. This is the man I've been with since the very beginning, the one who saved my life more times than I can count.

Daryl falters. His breathing slowly starts to calm down, and he leans forward, squinting through the darkness, his ragged appearance sending a pang of sadness through me.

"Daryl. It's me. Cass," I tell him gently, my eyes locked onto his, hoping it's not too late.

Daryl shakes his head at first, uncertainty clouding his features. He leans forward a bit more, peering closer through the dim light. My heart pounds loudly in my chest as the seconds tick by, waiting for some sign of recognition.

Then, in a moment that fills me with relief, I see it. Recognition flashes through his tired eyes, and they widen with a mix of astonishment and hope. His mouth falls open slightly, and in the next heartbeat, he lunges forward, wrapping me in a tight, desperate hug. His embrace is so forceful that I nearly stumble backward from the impact.

I let out an exhale of relief before wrapping my arms around him, gratitude washing over me. The simple act of embracing my friend, after being alone for so long, is incredible.

"You're alive," Daryl mumbles into my shoulder, his voice ragged and trembling. Tears well up in my eyes as I feel his warm breath against my neck. As his words register, I pull back to look at him with panic, my heart heavy.

"Don't tell me everyone thinks I'm..." I trail off, unable to bring myself to say the words. My chest tightens at the thought, and I search Daryl's dirt-stained face, the worry and fear in his eyes mirroring my own.

Daryl ducks his head, his face etched with pain. "It's been months. We couldn't find any tracks. Nothin'. No matter how hard we searched," he explains, and I bring a hand to my mouth in horror, tears threatening to spill.

Imagining what they must be feeling. God. What Rick must be feeling.

"How is he?" I ask, my bottom lip trembling, and my stomach twists with nerves.

Daryl raises his head, meeting my gaze with his emotion-filled eyes. "Rick's... bad. Worse than after Lori. He's obsessed with findin' you," Daryl tells me quietly, his voice unfamiliarly low and filled with sorrow.

Sharp pain pangs at my heart, making me look down and clench my eyes shut, trying to contain the overwhelming feeling of guilt that washes over me.

"Last time I saw 'im, he sent me away for lettin' you go, for not protectin' you like I should've-" Daryl stops himself, looking down with a grimace. "And now you're here," he breathes, his voice quivering with emotion as he shakes his head.

Sympathy aches my heart as I see the torment in Daryl's eyes. I grab his shoulders, forcing him to meet my gaze. "None of this is your fault," I tell him with conviction, my voice unwavering, but Daryl's blue eyes continue to reflect his guilt and pain, clearly not believing me.

"I ran from you. I risked my own life and ended up here. This isn't on you," I remind Daryl firmly, making him look down once again.

"I promised Rick an' I broke it," he says hoarsely. Then he slowly drags his gaze to meet mine, squinting through the dim light to examine my appearance. His gaze then darts down to my knee-length black dress, making his eyes widen, his mouth parting with panic.

"What—" he begins, but I quickly cut him off.

"Don't worry about that," I say, diverting his attention away from me. "How is everyone? Are they okay after the herd?" I question desperately, my heart racing with concern for our family. I've been wondering about them for months now.

Daryl sighs. "A group attacked Alexandria while we were out. Killed people but not ours. Then the herd broke down the wall and came in- it was bad. But we cleared 'em." Daryl explains, making me exhale slowly, relaxing some of the tension and worry that has been overwhelming me for the past two months.

"I heard about what Negan did, the lineup. H-How did it happen?" I question, my voice wavering with suffocating worry, my heart twisting painfully.

Daryl hangs his head.

"It was stupid. We were out tryna look for you, but the Saviors found us. After what we did at that outpost, they cornered us. And Negan he..." Daryl's voice cracks, and he shakes his head, struggling to find the words.

"Abraham and Glenn," I finish for him somberly, my voice thick with the weight of the loss and grief that has been haunting us all.

Daryl pauses, looking up at me with furrowed brows. "Glenn?" he questions, and I nod, my heart pounding.

"Yeah. Negan said-"

"Nah, it wasn't Glenn. It was Spencer, Deanna's kid." Daryl grunts, his words sending a shockwave through me.

"What?" I demand, my heart racing, a surge of relief washing over me.

"Yeah, the idiot wasn't even supposed to be there. Hopped on the back of the RV as we left." Daryl explains roughly, making me blink in shock, a mix of emotions swirling within me.

Spencer was a nice guy, albeit a bit irritating sometimes, but knowing it isn't Glenn- Oh my God.

"So Glenn, Maggie, their baby- they're all okay?" I ask breathlessly, my heart slamming against my ribcage. Daryl slowly meets my gaze, nodding.

Thank God.

"What about our kids? They alright?" I ask, my chest heaving, wringing my hands nervously.

Daryl nods. "Ass-Kicker's been cryin' for you," He mutters, making me let out a shaking breath. Nodding, I reel back an intense wave of hormones and deep emotion, blinking back tears. I've been crying for her too.

"The rest of the kids are okay. Carl got shot but Denise patched 'im up," Daryl explains, creating a knot of worry that tightens in my stomach.

"What?" I demand, concern for Carl flooding my thoughts. But Daryl's answer is cut off by the loud banging on the door, as the new guard shouts that I've got two more minutes.

"Fuck," I curse, turning back to Daryl, my heart racing with concern. "What's wrong? Negan said you were sick," I say quickly, my eyes scanning his body for signs of injury.

"Bullet scraped me. Think it's infected," Daryl grunts, pulling down his shoulder to reveal the inflamed wound, beads of sweat glistening on his brow. That's an infection all right.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath, my hands moving quickly as I rummage through my bag to grab the necessary medicine.

I give the antibiotics to Daryl before swiftly cleaning up and patching his shoulder, his grunts of pain making me wince. We don't have much time before I have tot go, I can't afford to waste a second to be more gentle.

As I quickly finish up, and am about to say goodbye, the door swings open behind me. Daryl cowers again, averting his face from the light, making my heart ache.

I don't look at the guard, focusing on Daryl, my voice quivering with emotion. "Try not to touch the bandage. I'll try to be back to check on you soon," I tell him softly, my watery eyes conveying just how much I don't want to leave the man I consider a brother.

Daryl nods briefly, his gaze fixed on the floor. The feeling of helplessness washes over me as I stand and turn to leave, my heart heavy with the knowledge that Daryl will remain in this awful place, enduring only more torture.

I exhale shakily, grab my bag, and quickly walk out of the cell, not even bothering to look at the guard as I rush past him. Every step away from Daryl feels is a struggle, fighting to keep my emotions in check, to stop myself from sobbing uncontrollably.

The sound of my heels clicking hollowly in the dimly lit hallway fills my ears as I quickly make my way back to the infirmary, my heart pounding with a mixture of sorrow and anger.

But my hurried journey is abruptly halted when a strong arm yanks me to the side, pulling me into a dark storage closet. Panic surges through me, and I let out a muffled yelp, which my captor quickly covers with his hand.

"Shh!" He urgently hushes me, his voice strangely familiar as he shuts the door behind us.

My panic subsides slightly, replaced by a growing sense of confusion as the man, the same guard from before, comes into view, his hand still firmly over my mouth.

Then, he clicks on the light, creating a harsh contrast between the dimly lit hallway and the sudden brightness inside the closet. I squint at the man, who turns to face me, his breaths labored.

My eyes widen as I recognize him, and I angrily rip his hand from my mouth, outrage sparking through, unable to believe this shit.

"Why am I surprised that you're here?" I seethe furiously, frustration and resentment bubbling within me. He sighs heavily, his hazel eyes locking onto mine.

"Cass, please, just hear me out," he implores, but I shake my head with defeat, unable to bear the weight of everything going on.

"Spencer, I don't have the fucking patience for this anymore." I snap, not believing that I'm stuck with the same man who betrayed me, again.

For fuck's sake.

___

A/N: He's back!! LMAO Also I omitted Louise's last name for the OC section last chapter for a reason teehee