A/N: I know shit is going down but can we appreciate how scrumptious this man is pls

Also, fun fact, all three of the 'reunion' chapters are around 25 chapters apart, isn't that interesting? It was genuinely not intentional lol

So um... any guesses what's gonna happen in this chapter? hehe, enjoy my lovelies <3

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- Rick's POV -

After Sasha skillfully snipes the guards on the nearby roofs, our meticulously designed plan kicks into high gear. Our convoy of armored cars and trucks rumble forward, aligning to create an intricate barricade of shrapnel slabs, shielding us from potential gunfire. The air crackles with tension as we traverse the familiar grounds of the sanctuary, my heart racing with anticipation.

We're doing this. We're getting them back.

The convoy comes to a stop in the same main area of the factory where I saw Cass yesterday, just behind the cage of walkers this time. Knowing that she's being held somewhere behind those walls with Daryl and Louise tugs at my heart, intensifying my fierce determination to get them back.

Exiting our vehicles, our group- consisting of me, Glenn, Rosita, Eric, Aaron, and Sasha, joined by volunteers from the hilltop- assumes our designated positions, forming the strategic formation.

I swing my assault rifle over my shoulder, taking my place behind one of the cars positioned in the front and middle, adrenaline coursing through my veins. From this vantage point, between the gap of metal slabs, I have a clear line of sight to Negan's little pedestal- the landing of the stairs where he stood yesterday, taunting me.

The anger surging through me at the memory fuels my determination to end it all- to get my family back and make him pay for what he's done to them.

Meanwhile, the RV holding my father-in-law and a few others from Alexandria waits at the back of the dilapidated building to help with the plan Carol made with the Kingdom- to lure a nearby horde towards the Sanctuary, using the RV, reinforced with metal, as a boundary and battering ram to breach the outside fences.

I share a glance with Rosita, standing determined beside me, offering her a nod of assurance. Her expression mirrors the determined resolve etched on mine, her dark eyes burning with the lingering fury of witnessing the man she loved brutally beaten before her eyes.

And I'm more than happy to help her get revenge on the man who did it.

In response to Rosita's nod, I watch as she raises her gun, the signal that triggers a synchronized movement among our group. Guns are raised, each member aiming at the windows of the dilapidated factory.

With a deliberate drop of Rosita's hand, a cacophony of gunfire erupts from our ranks. Each gunshot, fired three times, serves as an announcement to Negan that we've arrived.

I lower my pistol, slotting it on my belt with a practiced motion. Securing my assault rifle over my chest, my glare fixates on the imposing double doors that Negan swaggered out of just yesterday.

Come out, motherfucker.

Exhaling steadily through my nose, I remain fixated on the metal doors, my heartbeat echoing in my ears. The restless shifting of my family surrounds me, and I can sense their shared impatience as we await Negan's response.

Where is he?

My heart pounds relentlessly as I stand there, silently daring the little weasel to come out and face us.

Finally, a distinct click pierces the tense atmosphere. Through the cold, diffused light cast by the blanket of grey clouds above us, Negan strides out, his silhouette emerging from the shadows.

Involuntarily, my eyebrows flicker upward in surprise at his appearance. Normally, he's menacingly calm, leering at and taunting me with malicious delight. But now, as he steps into view, his bat hanging lazily by his side, a subtle wave of fear washes over me.

This man, standing on the platform and staring at me, is not the Negan I know.

His expression is wrought by what appears to be exhaustion as if life's relentless trials have only suddenly worn him down. His cold, unfeeling eyes settle on me as he walks out, not lounging against the yellow banister like the last time, but standing upright in a manner that chills me to my bone.

An unsettling feeling grips me as I take in the sight of this altered version of him. Even when he found out about 'Cass and Daryl', at least he was angry. This is just... unnerving.

"Why am I not surprised you're here?" Negan calls out, his booming yet flat voice cutting through the air. He rests on the banister, peering at me through the gaps in the metal slats, his expression devoid of the usual arrogance.

He looks like a man who's lost everything as he glares back at me, his mouth pulled down at the corners, not even a glint of his usual delight in his eyes.

I meet his cold gaze, unable to shake the troubling reality that something has shifted within him, leaving behind a chillingly different man.

Remembering exactly why I'm here, I clench my jaw and narrow my eyes, deciding I really don't give a fuck if he's not his usual self.

"Because you know damn well you have my people. And I intend on getting them back, right now!" I retort roughly, adjusting my grip on the rifle, determination burning through me. My knuckles turn white with rage as I continue to grip the gun fiercely, trying to contain the urge to shoot him immediately.

He's touched them. My sister. My wife.

The muscle in my jaw rightens. I'm going to fucking kill him. The mantra repeats in my head as I glare at the fucker.

Negan sighs audibly, his gaze briefly lifting to the sky. Behind him, a couple of his henchmen come into view. Simon, watching Negan warily beside a blonde woman, and to the right, I spot Spencer.

Harsh distaste flutters through me at the sight of that coward. I should've killed him. The second he stood foot in Alexandria.

Our eyes lock, and for a fleeting moment, I swear I see a genuine smile quirk at his mouth before he resumes his serious demeanor. I have half a mind to shoot the coward- and this time, not miss anything vital.

"Rick, I really don't have time for your bullshit today," Negan calls out tiredly, interrupting my thoughts and drawing my infuriated gaze away from Spencer and back to his faded leader. "So why don't you get your little guns and cars and fuck off-"

Before Negan can finish his undoubtedly infuriating words, a thunderous explosion reverberates through the air, its force so strong that the ground shakes beneath us, and dust erupts from somewhere nearby. Cursing, I instinctively duck down behind the shrapnel of the cars, finding the makeshift barricade to be a decent shield against the chaos and debris unleashed by the unexpected blast.

My ears are ringing as I blink through the disorientation of the near-explosion. Through my blurred vision and the persistent ringing in my ears, I manage to stumble to my feet, turning to witness the aftermath, just as my family members do beside me. I hear gasps around me as I realize the right half of the uppermost part of the sanctuary is blown up, dark black smoke billowing out from the destruction.

That wasn't us... was it?

Judging by the shocked expressions of my family members and the team around me, I'm gonna say that's a no.

In an instant, my hearing and vision snap back to normal, and I'm nearly deafened by the sounds of the chaos unfolding around us. The group reacts immediately, shooting freely at the sanctuary, shattering the seemingly endless windows.

Amid the chaos, I catch sight of Spencer, the coward, slipping through the door. Meanwhile, Negan jumps to the ground, scrambling to his feet and rushing away from the stairs.

Gritting my teeth through my blistering anger, I unleash a relentless barrage of gunfire at the figure of Negan, running away before he takes refuge behind a chunk of concrete. The overwhelming desire for revenge fuels each bullet I fire, a manifestation of pent-up frustration and resentment toward the fucking asshole.

Undeterred by the explosion, our group advances, continuing their shots, and I notice the woman who was beside Simon getting shot and falling to the ground. Surprisingly, no reinforcements from the Saviors emerge. So much for having 200+ soldiers.

Taking momentary cover, I navigate past the chain-link courtyard teeming with walkers before quickly closing the distance to the concrete slab Negan's hiding behind. But when I get there, swinging my rifle around quickly, my finger on the trigger, there's no sight of him.

Fuck.

"Rick!" a familiar voice shouts from behind, back at from our frontlines, prompting me to look up. A sinking feeling grips my stomach as over two dozen walkers stumble out of the front doors and down the stairs. Some even topple over the railing, clearly drawn by our echoing gunfire.

Cursing under my breath, I take out the closest walkers with quick, well-aimed shots before rejoining the group.

For fuck's sake, the horde shouldn't be here yet!

As the group of undead breach the double doors, I catch a glimpse of flashes of gunfire emanating from inside the sanctuary.

Are the walkers... coming from them?

My stomach twists at the thought, a strange mix of worry and pride flitting through me as I consider that maybe, just maybe, Louise and Cass have a part in this.

That they're the reason Negan looked so drained.

That they're the reason that the hundreds of soldiers that should be here, seem to be replaced with fresh walkers.

Just then, another explosion ripples through the air, this time originating from further inside the factory. The debris billowing out of the broken windows and doors poses less of a threat to us as we stagger back, but the anguished screams echoing from within the factory make it clear that this explosion is meant to kill them. Not us.

A smile of amazement pulls at my mouth.

It's them.

___

- Cass's POV -

My world grinds to a sudden halt, the mere utterance of Spencer's words causing my breath to catch in my throat. "He's here?" I demand, the weight of anticipation pulling at my chest, almost causing my knees to buckle for the second time today. I turn my gaze towards Louise, who stands behind him, a proud grin playing on her lips.

"Who d'you think is shooting the damn place up?" Louise responds, her eyes glimmering with excitement.

A surprised laugh escapes me, a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy coursing through my veins. Hearing that Rick's here, actively involved in our fight, sends waves of warmth and love surging through my entire being.

I knew he'd come.

"And the timing couldn't have been better. Your 'sick' soldiers decided to die and turn at a very convenient time," Spencer remarks, a playful grin dancing on his lips as he steps back, allowing me to stagger out of my cell for what I hope is the very last time.

As I walk out, gripping the pistol Spencer gave me tightly, my gaze darts to Daryl's cell. I'm about to tell them we need to get him but am brutally cut off as an explosive shockwave thunders through the building. The concrete structure shudders, sending clouds of debris cascading down from the ceiling, causing us to duck and shield ourselves. The distant echoes of agonized screams punctuate the aftermath.

Coughing through the settling dust, I blink at Louise and Spencer, their exchanged grins betraying a shared satisfaction. "Was that Rick?" I demand, my chest heaving with a mixture of anxiety and relief, causing Spencer to turn towards me with a knowing look.

"That's all Lou," he grins, a hint of admiration in his eyes, making me turn to Louise with wide eyes.

"Louise!" I exclaim, but she simply grins, readjusting her grip on her axe, its blade glistening with blood.

My mind races, swinging from overwhelming appreciation and pride for my sister-in-law being drowned out by a sudden wall of worry. "The wives – Georgia. We have to get them out, right? They're still upstairs?" I ask wildly, my chest constricting with worry.

Louise's smile quickly fades. "Shit, yeah, I know. I wanted to grab you first, come on," she urges me, grabbing my forearm and dragging me away.

Panic lodges in my throat as I swing my head over my shoulder at Spencer. "Daryl! We need to get him out!" I shout, but Louise shakes her head.

"It takes too long! Spencer'll do it; we need to go!" she calls back, making me let out a grunt of helpless agreement as I see Spencer turning to Daryl's cell, using the back of his rifle to slam down repeatedly on the lock.

I steal one last fleeting glance, my eyes desperately seeking any sign that he'll free Daryl before it's too late. Then I'm pulled around the corner, my heart aching as I realize I might not get to know whether or not the man I consider my brother will get out.

I also realize that shit is going down, and I just can't afford to think about it. Facing forward, I quicken my pace to relieve Louise of the burden of dragging me along.

This allows Louise to secure her axe with both hands, clearly readying herself for the impending confrontation. Meanwhile, as we take momentary shelter behind a wall, I focus on my hangun, the metallic click as I turn off the safety echoing in the crumbling halls. A rapid check confirms a full magazine, and I steel myself, forcing myself to be strong.

This is it. You got this.

Once the coast is clear, we set off into a desperate run through the halls. As we go, I try to suppress the rising nausea and ignore the relentless racing of my heart lodged in my throat. The electric buzz of anticipation coursing through my veins serves as a reminder that this is finally it- we're escaping.

Louise takes the lead, navigating through the once-familiar halls that have now transformed into a gruesome blend of death and destruction. The bodies of slain walkers litter the floor, and I realize that they're most likely the source of blood on Louise's axe.

I feel surprised for a fleeting moment before I remember that she was originally one of Negan's soldiers before, as she put it sarcastically, she was 'upgraded'. I really shouldn't be surprised, as I know full well her brother can be just as brutal, but actually seeing her like this is a shock, to say the least.

As we tear through the halls, the thick layer of dirt and debris adds to the desolation, making it difficult to breathe through the already suffocating halls. I never felt like I could breathe here, and this is only making it worse.

Breaking onto the main floor, the true extent of the chaos unfolds before my eyes, causing me to stumble momentarily, a surge of disbelief threatening to paralyze me. One of the fifteen foot tall walls of the main room has been obliterated, replaced by a gaping hole through which an endless horde of walkers stumbles, their grotesque figures silhouetted against the chaos beyond.

Fuck.

The air is saturated with the nauseating stench of death, and a haze of powdery ash and smoke infiltrates the space, obscuring my vision. The deafening cacophony of gunfire surrounds us as Saviors relentlessly shoot at the encroaching walkers stumbling through the fog.

Louise and I instinctively duck behind a jagged chunk of wall debris as a burst of gunfire erupts from outside, shattering the upper windows and sending a cascade of glass raining down upon us.

I curse loudly before Lousie and I scramble to our feet, my senses heightened by the urgency of getting to the others. Navigating through the sea of walkers and Saviors, we weave our way through the chaos, tearing up the stairs with desperation, my lungs burning from a combination of smoke inhalation and sheer exhaustion.

Three flights of stairs later, adrenaline-fueled determination propels us through the abandoned halls. Our footsteps echo in the desolate silence, the air thick with anticipation. Stumbling to a panting stop before the door, I reach out to open it, only to be met with unexpected resistance. Confusion momentarily clouds my thoughts as I try opening it, harder this time. What the-

I hear a muffled cry inside, and others shushing that person, making me and Louise look at each other with wide eyes, a shared understanding passing between us. They barricaded themselves in.

I don't need to say a word, stepping back as Lousie swings her axe, slamming it against the shiny hardwood door. The metallic clinks and wood splinters fill the air as Louise relentlessly attacks the door. Her movements are a blur, a dance of controlled chaos as she strikes over and over, determination etched into every swing, striking me with amazement.

Damn, my sister-in-law is a badass.

Finally, with a triumphant smash, she tears a hole into the door, allowing her to reach inside and clear the barricade. Pushing past the debris, Louise and I shove the doors fully open, and the sight within brings a surge of relief crashing over me.

The five other wives are huddled in the corner, their eyes wide. Sherry is standing at the front, holding what looks to be a metal fire poker, her expression tight with determination. As she sees us she sighs with relief, dropping her weapon. My heart skips a beat at the sight of Georgia's blonde head among them, unharmed.

"Cass, Louise!" Georgia's voice rings out, tearing away from the group to rush towards us. The air crackles with a surge of emotions as she engulfs us in a crushing hug, one arm slung around each of our necks. The brief moment of reassurance is shared before we pull away, the urgency to get them out of this damn place taking priority.

"We need to get you all out!" I shout, my words barely audible over the deafening cracks of gunfire and the guttural groans of hundreds of walkers in the distance. I watch as fear flickers across Georgia's face at the prospect.

"She's right!" Louise shouts in agreement, her brows knitted together desperately. "I know where the bombs are gonna go off, I can lead you guys!" she adds, her voice straining over the distant chaos, her eyes boring into Georgia, who nods, letting out a shuddering breath, her skin paled.

We gather the wives, some of whom look relieved that we're here and others are flat-out terrified. I don't blame them, honestly, I am too. The uncertainty of everyone's well-being weighs down on me, creating a nagging worry in the back of my mind about whether the walkers are getting to my family who came to our rescue.

Luckily the other wives, who have endured surviving Negan longer than me, are smart and resilient, following after us with determination. Louise and I lead the way, our weapons at the ready. I cringe at the loud clicking of my and other wives' heels, hoping it doesn't draw too much attention. Luckily, the Saviors are too busy dealing with the wave of walkers to care, and gunshots are much louder than heels. However, those facts don't stop me from being incredibly envious of the boots Louise has on.

Crashing down a side staircase, I repeatedly check over my shoulder, ensuring the other wives are following me and Louise. Their initial fear seems to morph into determination, a shared readiness to escape this fucking place.

Halfway down the cramped stairwell, a trio of walkers stumbles in, their groans echoing against the concrete walls, blocking our path. Louise, the closest, swears under her breath before swiftly launching forward. Her axe crashes into the nearest walker's skull, the impact reverberating through the narrow space.

With a shouted warning over my shoulder, I order the wives to cover their ears as I take aim and fire, taking out the other two with quick shots through their foreheads while Louise retrieves the axe from the first walker with a grunt of effort. My ears ring momentarily from the gunshots but I just shake my head, forcing myself to keep moving.

Three walkers down and the stairwell cleared, Louise leads the way down the first-floor, me and the wives following closely behind. The urgency of our escape is palpable, every step bringing us closer to safety beyond the crumbling walls of our former prison.

As we run after Louise through the delipidated walls of the Sanctuary, my forward momentum grinds to an abrupt halt as we pass the infirmary, a wave of horror crashing over me as I remember-

Derek.

"What is it? We don't have time to grab anything!" Louise shouts at me, her urgency slicing through the chaos surrounding us. The wives gather around us, some stumbling at the abrupt stop. I turn to Louise, shaking my head, the chilling reality settling in. I can't believe I forgot about him.

"Derek!" I shout, my voice barely audible over the noise in the echoing halls, making realization dawn on Louise, her mouth parting.

The same horror I feel is reflected in her wide eyes as she quickly shakes her head, thinking for a second. "Okay, he should be on the second floor, all the way to the east!" Louise shouts, her worried eyes searching mine. I nod quickly, acknowledging the plan forming in my mind. If Louise can guide the wives to safety first, I can find and grab Derek.

With an unspoken nod of understanding, Louise takes charge, leading the wives through the maze of corridors, the sound of their hurried footsteps echoing the urgency of our escape. I peel away from the group, retracing our steps back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The crumbling walls seem to close in around me as I navigate the dimly lit stairwell, dodging the walker's we just killed.

I burst into the second-floor corridor, the realization of the dire situation intensifying with every step, my chest heaving with every searing breath. The moans of walkers and the distant sounds of gunfire create an eerie soundtrack as I race to find Derek, panic gnawing at me.

After ripping open the doors of numerous rooms, to no avail, I finally find him. The young boy is crouched in the corner of what seems to be a child's bedroom, crying over his nanny Susan, who's on the floor, dead. There must have been an explosion above them, and the ceiling shattered, a huge chunk of concrete and pipes landing on her.

Tearing my eyes away from her bloodied corpse, my heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach, I quickly close the distance to Derek's side, not wanting to waste any time. I scoop up the five-year-old, dressed in his matching set of blue pajamas which I notice he's wet out of fear. My heart splinters in my chest at the realization. Poor thing.

With a heavy heart, I hook him around my side in a protective hold, reminiscent of how I used to carry Judith. His small frame presses against me as he grabs onto me tightly, seemingly seeking comfort in me despite the chaos around us, crying into my neck.

Swallowing back the lump in my throat, the gravity of the trauma Derek is experiencing weighing heavily on me, I make a break for it. The urgency to save the boy from the mess I inadvertently put him in taking over.

The weight of the small boy clinging to my neck grounds me as I rush through the unfamiliar halls of the second floor, desperate to navigate back to the stairway. Despite just coming up this way, panic is beginning to cloud my thoughts, disorienting me.

Just as I'm about to head to the familiar door to the stairs I came up moments ago around the corner, a deafening explosion erupts, shuddering the building so aggressively that I fall against the wall beside me. Instinctively using my body as a shield for Derek, I absorb the brunt of the impact, the reverberations rattling through my spine, sending pain searing through my side.

Cringing through it, I press Derek's head into my collarbone, shielding his head from the rubble, my eyes clenched shut. "It's okay, I got you, honey," I murmur close to the crying boy's ear, attempting to offer comfort. He just clings to me tighter, his large glasses pressing uncomfortably into my skin, but I don't give a shit.

As the debris settles, I pull away from the wall, my left shoulder screaming in pain and my ears ringing again. Gritting my teeth through the pain, I assess the damage, peering around the corner to the once-intact hallway, only to find it obliterated, replaced by a gaping hole. A gust of fresh air brushes over me, revealing the distant factories and sparse trees beyond.

Holy shit.

With a gulp, I steel myself for the challenge that lies ahead, my determination unwavering.

I'm getting him out. Safe.

Gripping Derek securely, I continue down the hall, leading him down the stairs, which thankfully, were spared. The crumbling sanctuary trembles around us, its dilapidated structure threatening to fall at any moment. My feet fly over the decaying steps as I rush down, desperate to get the hell out of here before the entire thing collapses.

We manage to get to the bottom floor and to avoid shattering his small eardrums, I chose to outrun the walkers instead of shooting them. Tearing through the halls, which now have red emergency lights flashing on and off, I keep a protective hand on Derek, which isn't necessary given how tightly he's clinging to me. Searching for Louise and the wives, I hope they haven't already left, as I'm starting to lose track of where I am in this damn maze.

The air is thick with the stench of death and the ominous sounds of the raging battle, but fierce determination propels me forward, forcing me to ignore it.

Turning a corner, I catch sight of Louise up ahead, her silhouette unmistakable amidst the chaos, especially with that axe. Relief washes over me that she waited, even for a moment longer. Louise spots us, her eyes widening with a mix of concern and urgency.

"Cass!" she shouts, gesturing frantically as I close the distance between us.

As Derek and I reunite with Louise and the other wives, the urgency to escape this hellish place intensifies. The once-familiar halls have transformed into even more of an unpredictable nightmare, each step bringing us closer to the unknown beyond the crumbling walls.

Louise takes the lead, navigating through the grim corridors with a determined pace. As we pass the hall of cells, a disconcerting sight makes me stop abruptly, instinctively grabbing Louise's arm.

Pulled back by my grip, she turns to me first, then follows my horrified eyeline. "Spencer!" Louise cries out, recognizing the body lying lifelessly in the hallway before I do, making my stomach plummet. The wives wait behind as we rush forward to our friend, sprawled in front of Daryl's now empty cell, out cold.

Panic surging through me, I call Georgia over, attempting to hand Derek over so I can help Spencer. However, Derek clings tighter to me, protesting with cries that tug at my heart. "It's okay, kiddo, you know Georgia! I'm gonna be right here," I assure him quickly, fighting against my own tears at how pitiful and terrified he is. Eventually, he reluctantly lets go, and Georgia hoists him into her arms.

Dropping to my knees faster than I mean to, which definitely scrapes my skin, I cup either side of Spencer's face, noticing the sizable bruise on his forehead. Leaning against his chest, I hear his respirations steady, and his heartbeat remains strong.

Thank god.

"He's okay?" Louise asks desperately, helping me hoist the man to his feet. I nod in confirmation making her sag with relief, as I sling his arm around my shoulder, bearing his dead weight against my body.

Damn, he's heavier than he looks.

The reality of the situation snaps me back into action, turning to Louise deliberately. "You need to find him!" I urgently tell her, making her blink back at me in confusion, clearly ready to leave with the wives. "Daryl!" I shout, making realization break out across her face as she looks at the empty cell behind her, the flashing red lights casting unsettling shadows across us. "He doesn't know where the bombs are!" I remind her desperately, my heart racing with blinding panic.

Daryl is the most capable person I know, but he has no idea where the bombs are going off, and Louise very much does.

Louise, turning back to me, quickly nods, determination flashing over her features.

"He has longish dark hair and unless they made him change, a leather vest with angel wings on the back! Please, Louise, find him!" I cry, desperate emotion constricting my throat and stinging my eyes as my sister-in-law nods quickly in affirmation.

"I'll get him! Meet you outside!" she shouts back, sending me a reassuring look before readjusting her grip on her axe and tearing down the hall, following the trail of freshly killed walker corpses that weren't there before.

As Louise disappears around a corner, I focus on getting Spencer back on his feet. His eyes flutter open, and a groan escapes his lips. "Easy! We're tryna get you out of here!" I shout, a relieved laugh bubbling up my chest that he's awake. It's ironic that he was the one helping me earlier today, and now here we are.

Spencer groans in response, but to my relief, he's conscious enough to take on a lot more of his weight, making it possible for us to maneuver down the dimly lit hall to meet up with the other wives. I nod at Georgia, holding the still-crying Derek, silently urging her to lead the way.

"I'm sorry Cass," Spencer pants beside me, his words slurred. The hit to his head looks bad, and I wouldn't be surprised if he has a concussion.

"I know, Spence," I reassure him, cringing as I help carry his heavy frame down the hall to the door with the exit sign above it. A ripple of relief audibly goes through the group as they see it, knowing we're almost out.

The door ahead is pushed open before swiftly being pulled shut by Georgia, who turns to me, her wide-eyed expression catching my attention in the flashing red light. "What?" I call, my wounded shoulder screaming in protest as I continue to bear almost half of the weight of a fully grown man.

"There are people out there, shooting!" Georgia exclaims, her worry evident in the heaving of her chest, but her words only make me smile.

It's them.

"They're my people! Go out, arms up, they won't shoot you!" I shout over the distant groans of walkers behind us and the gunshots in front of us, but Georgia hesitates. "George! I promise!" I repeat desperately, making Georgia gulp, before nodding, gingerly opening the door once again.

I can't see past the other wives as the door gets pushed open, the soft light of the cloud-covered sky seeming blinding after so long in this dark hellhole. The distant sounds of gunfire echo from the exit into the hall as the wives ahead cautiously step into the light, arms raised. I follow, limping as I help Spencer, my heart pounding.

As we emerge from the oppressive darkness, the cacophony of gunfire, the crackling of a nearby fire, and the ever-present groans of walkers surround us. My heart lodges itself in my throat as I stumble out fully, still helping Spencer with me.

Swinging my head in an attempt to ground myself, I realize we're by the west side exit, away from the main entrance and stairs.

And when I look to the left, toward that same main entrance, my world comes to a grinding halt. My knees threaten to give out under me when I see them.

The line of my family members, all equally determined as they shoot out at the horde of walkers, retreating away from the main area, their backs to us. I don't blame them for retreating, the front of the sanctuary is crumbling to pieces, half of it consumed by a raging fire that's spreading down in the front, lighting up the walkers on the fences.

I swallow the thick lump of suffocating relief in my throat as I spot them. Glenn, Rosita, Eric, Aaron, and Sasha- firing into the walker horde with ruthless precision, killing the threat one walker at a time. I can't fight the grin that takes over my face, my chest heaving with disbelief.

They're here, right in front of me.

Then, amidst the sounds of gunfire and growls, I hear it- "Back it up! Plan B, I'm going in through the back to get 'em!"

It's Rick, barking orders, his voice rough, laced with determination.

My Rick.

His figure emerges from around the corner of the main area as he directs the others, clad in his faded blue button-up, usual jeans and boots, armed with an assault rifle, his signature pistol on his belt. My grin widens as I take in the sight of him- his handsome face, his familiar figure as he runs, and his curls. Our moment yesterday was too brief, a torturous taste that was snatched away too soon.

And witnessing him in action like this, the entirety of him, is breathtaking.

God, I love him so much.

As a few more shots eliminate the last of the walkers on this side of the fire, our family acknowledges Rick's order, turning on their heels and heading straight in our direction- towards me and the other wives. My heartbeat is thudding so fast against my ribcage that I think it might burst through, and then abruptly it feels like it does as Spencer collapses, swiftly bringing me down with him.

Shit.

With no choice in the matter, I drop down, wincing at my ankle twisting uncomfortably as the full-grown man drags me down like an anchor. We've collapsed in a heap on the concrete slab above the short stairs that take us to freedom, the other wives standing in front of us blocking any view of my family.

"Spence, come on!" I groan, jostling his shoulder, trying to wake him up, but he's fully unresponsive. Getting up so soon after being knocked clearly didn't help him.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

My attention is abruptly shifted from the living boulder keeping me down as I hear, "We're trying to get out! Please!" it's one of the other wives, Whitney, calling out. My head snaps up from the ground to see them all facing ahead, their arms up, clearly terrified.

Derek whimpers, seeming to burrow into Georgia's side tighter, making my heart ache. Poor baby.

"You with Negan?" A distant, rough female voice calls out with distrust- Sasha.

Wincing, I try to wiggle out from under Spencer, but his weight pins me down stubbornly. For fuck's sake. Every part of my body is screaming, painfully reminding me that what I've ached for over the past four months is just within reach.

"Not anymore!" Georgia cries, her voice shaking, earning a murmur through my family that I can hear from here. They all know they don't pose a threat.

"Come on down, you're safe!" Glenn shouts, his words carrying his usual kindness, making a smile grow across my face. I knew it.

As I struggle again, desperate to reunite with them, Georgia turns to me. "Hey, d'you need help?" the younger woman asks, her eyes wide, clearly only just noticing my predicament. To be fair, I'm behind her and they're surrounded by people they don't know- all of whom can look pretty terrifying if need be.

I shake my head stubbornly at her question, especially with her holding Derek, and then with one last, aggressive pull, I finally dislodge myself from Spencer's body. Whitney lurches forward to help me get on my trembling feet, my chest heaving with overwhelming anticipation. I flash her a smile of thanks, quickly testing out my ankle, which seems to be okay under my weight, despite the unsettling tingle that shoots up my leg.

"You deal with them, I've got to-" Rick's rough order cuts through the air, interrupting my thoughts, hearing his voice once again nearly making me fall right back over. But his abrupt cut-off makes my head snap up, my chest heaving. One of the wives steps to the side, unblocking my view, revealing a sight that nearly makes me faint with dizzying happiness.

Maybe fifty feet away, scattered out in the gravel in front of us is my family, their eyes fixed on me with disbelief. My gaze searches through them, warmth seeping through me at the familiar faces and slight confusion at those I've never seen before. And then my sweeping gaze comes to an abrupt stop as I spot him on the far right side, as if about to take off in a run but now frozen in place. Rick.

His expression is a blend of surprise and a profound sense of relief as he gapes back at me. It feels as if after four long months of only shallow breaths, a rush of fresh air suddenly floods my lungs.

Our eyes lock, and in that moment, the world around me seems to fade away into a haze of nothingness. The overwhelming love and relief that overwhelms me is all that matters as I stare back at those wonderful blue eyes.

"Cass?" Eric's voice of all people cuts through my trance, his unexpected interruption causing me to break out in a grin, and suddenly time resumes- everything snapping back. Suddenly feeling like I can move again, I'm moving- flying down the stairs, my heart hammering and my hands trembling as I use the railing to make sure I don't fall flat on my face.

Adrenaline courses through me, a surge of energy that makes my vision shake and my mind reel. Despite my internal chaos, I look up from halfway down the stairs and catch sight of Rick. He's dropped his rifle on the gravel and is tearing across the distance towards me, his face contorted with raw emotion that strikes me to my core.

I almost lose it right there at the sight I've been dreaming of for months. But then as my feet hit the gravel, I'm propelled forward with a burst of energy, sprinting toward him with every ounce of strength I can muster, ignoring any protest from my ankle. Each step feels like an eternity, the crushing weight of every second of my run amplifying my desperation to get to him.

Rick reaches me first, moving much faster than me, and before I can fully comprehend what's happening, our bodies collide.

I throw myself onto him, the intensity of my craving driving me to desperate measures. My fingers claw at his warm frame, seeking confirmation that he's real, that this moment is not just another fleeting dream. A shuddering sob escapes me before I can stop it, all the overwhelming emotions that have been building for months coming rushing out as I finally feel him. His solid, strong warmth envelops me, grounding me in a reality that seems almost surreal.

Gone is the unfulfilling half-catch-half-hug from yesterday. My torso slams into his with fervor, arms thrown around his neck and legs hooking around his middle in a desperate attempt to be as close to him as humanly possible. His physical presence is a lifeline, and I cling to it with a desperate urgency that transcends anything going on outside of this moment.

"Oh god," Rick chokes out, his strong arms quickly wrapping around my back tightly as he catches me. One of his hands finds my the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair, pulling me even closer to him. The world melts away as we become entangled, lost in the pure heaven of our physical connection.

Tears burst from my eyes, a cathartic release of pent-up emotion as we clumsily tumble to the ground in a heaping mess. But I couldn't care less. All that matters is holding him, touching him, savoring the feeling that we've finally reunited.

Rick and I end up on the ground, my body firmly latched onto his as if letting go would mean losing the moment forever. "I missed you. God, I missed you so much," I sob into his shoulder, feeling his secure grip on my back tighten slightly at my words.

I don't care that there's a fight going on- that there is a horde of walkers probably not too far from us- I don't even care that the wives, who barely know me, are witnessing my passionate reunion with the man who consumes my very being.

I don't care.

Rick pulls away slightly, his hands moving to my cheeks, his watery eyes searching my expression desperately. It's as if he's seeing me for the first time, memorizing every detail. My heart aches with the tenderness of the moment as Rick brushes the tears from my cheeks before capturing me in a kiss that speaks volumes, expressing a depth of emotion words could never say.

Tears melt from my eyes, mingling with the connection of our skin as our lips meet in a tender, yet restrained kiss. God, I haven't felt his lips on mine in far too long. It's not overly heated or passionate, not with all these people around. It's simply an assurance that we're both here, finally together again.

Leaning back from the kiss and pressing his forehead to mine, Rick takes a deep breath, and I can feel the rise and fall of his chest as though it's my own. "Tell me this is real. That I'm not dreaming," he breathes, his voice quiet and hoarse, echoing the same words he said to me after our first night together.

A teary smile cracks across my face, the warmth in my heart threatening to overwhelm me. "This is real, I promise," I whisper my same words back, my voice trembling and my breath catching in my throat. Rick's expression crumples again before pulling me into another crushing hug, the desperation to confirm the reality of our reunion still lingering.

"Hey guys- we're just as happy as you but- the fire's getting closer, we really gotta go," Glenn's careful voice breaks out from our right, prompting me to pull from Rick's embrace to look at our good friend watching us gingerly.

The sheer joy of seeing him alive washes over me, and a broad smile of relief stretches across my face. I nod understandingly, feeling no trace of embarrassment- I'm too happy for that. "Right, yeah," I laugh lightly, sharing a brief glance with Rick that sends my stomach fluttering like it used to.

Rick assists me in climbing off him and onto my feet, my right ankle protesting as I put weight on it. "You okay?" Rick asks, furrowing his brows while inspecting my feet and my impractical heels.

Pushing past the pain, I nod. "Yeah, I think Spencer twisted it, but I should be fine," I admit, wincing as I speak. Rick's head snaps up, his expression full of indignation.

"Spencer did what?" Rick demands roughly, his blue eyes fiery as they search mine, sending fluttering amusement through me that he hasn't changed one bit.

I bite back a smile. "Well, I was helping him through the door, and he fell, bringing me down with him, he-" My words cut off when I turn around to gesture to him still on the stairs, only for them to be empty.

What the...

"Georgia!" I call out to my good friend as she adjusts Derek in her arms, making her turn back to face me. "Where's Spencer?" I ask, watching as her gaze darts to the last place I saw him, before shrugging, following the rest of the group retreating from the encroaching fire.

Confusion swirls in my mind. Where did he go?

"Guys, really, we need to get going," Glenn urges, warmly patting my shoulder before following the rest of the group as they carefully make their way toward the back of the Sanctuary, where I assume another vehicle is waiting.

Nodding, I find it hard to tear my gaze away from the landing, still processing Spencer's strange disappearance.

Just as I'm wondering, yet another explosion rocks the area, this time near the back of the building- right where everyone is headed. Reacting swiftly, I pivot out of harm's way, feeling Rick's warm body wrapping around mine, shielding me from the impact.

Despite the warmth in my chest at having the man I love beside me, using his body to protect me, a slight exasperation creeps in as I wonder just how many bombs his sister planted.

The explosion generates a swirling cloud of dust and debris, emanating from all angles of the Sanctuary, particularly the back end where it seems to have detonated. A tug of worry nags at my mind for the vehicle the group was heading toward.

As the dust settles, Rick and I stand up, his body retracting from mine. He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at the damage. Forcing my eyes from the attractive action, I check the group and fortunately, they hadn't gone far enough to be harmed, but they cough and brush off dust from their clothes.

"Was that you?" Rick inquires, turning to me with raised eyebrows and a hint of amazement playing on his lips. I can't help but feel a lingering sense of amazement myself because he's really here, right in front of me, talking to me.

A wide grin of pride stretches across my face as we start walking, not just to check on the others but also to put some distance between us and the encroaching fire, its heat licking at our backs. "I can't take any credit for that, that's all your sister," I inform him knowingly, watching his expression morph into complete surprise as he walks beside me.

"Of course it is." Rick breathes, shaking his head with a sigh of exasperation. "Where is she?" he asks, turning his head, his eyes searching mine, making my stomach drop.

Fuck, she was supposed to be finding Daryl, and when she ran after him, it looked like she was headed for the back again- right where the bomb just went off.

"I don't know- she's looking for Daryl," I hastily reply, worry tightening my chest as I glance at that section of the Sanctuary, still enveloped in the lingering haze of debris.

"You don't know where they are?" Rick questions, panic seeping into his voice, his eyes wide with concern. I cringe, feeling another wave of panic wash over me.

"It was a shitshow in there, Rick. Spencer said he'd free Daryl from his cell while Lousie and I got the wives out but when we came back, Daryl's cell was empty and Spencer outside of it knocked out cold!" I briefly explain, alarm gripping me as I gulp, stealing a quick glance at the crumbling factory in front of us.

"Knocked out?" Rick questions, his voice a half laugh, half scoff, making me nod, a small smile playing at my lips.

"Daryl must've done it. I not sure why, I-"

"-I said it was for you, Rick." an all-too-familiar voice grunts from behind us, making us whip around to see Daryl headed for us, covered in ash, walker blood, and dust. He's walking away from the back where the explosion just went off, heaving with what looks like exertion.

My stomach bottoms out, panic intensifying at the absence of the familiar brown-haired woman with pretty curls alongside Daryl.

"You said what?" Rick demands, fully laughing now as he pulls his brother into a quick hug.

Daryl grins, patting Rick's back. "Was long overdue," he grunts simply, and I find it extremely hard not to smile.

"Daryl, did you see Louise? She's a bit shorter than me with-" I start anxiously, searching his eyes desperately as Rick pulls away, studying him just as intently. He has to have seen her, she's fast and I bet-

"Oh trust me, I met her. She's comin'" Daryl explains gruffly, before looking back over his shoulder, where the cloud of debris is only just fully settling from the last explosion.

Then, as I see the two figures emerge, my stomach bottoms out.

And it isn't because Louise is coming back, reuniting with us, but because of the tall figure she's roughly dragging with her.

My eyebrows shoot to my forehead, my jaw dropping.

It's Negan.

And Louise is dragging him by his collar like he's a damn dog.

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How Ai captured our babies' reunion :')

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A/N: As always please let me know what you think! I hope the reunion met any expectations!!