bambys-library

Maybe if I hadn’t gone off then Vickie could have been more aware of her brother than looking for me. She was always trying to make sure he was keeping out of trouble, but with me disappearing I could only imagine how worried she’d been. If I’d stayed, then maybe I would’ve noticed him going off. Maybe he could’ve talked to us, let us know about Saddiq. Maybe we could’ve been there to help fight the walkers.

There were so many maybes running through my head, I could barely focus on what was happening around me.

“Hey. Daryl.” Rosita grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop.

I turned around, noticing that the others were nowhere to be seen. Except for Dwight and Tara. She was a few feet from Rosita, watching expectantly. While Dwight stood off to the side, watching and waiting, holding his injured arm.

Frowning, I looked back down at Rosita. “Where are they?”

She gestured over her shoulder. “They needed rest. They're exhausted. They haven't slept.”

I could understand that. I might be full of energy from my head spinning, but the others weren’t used to being out here like this. Not like me. Even if they were used to being out here, it had been a big night and an even bigger lose, they needed a moment to recover.

“All right, 10 minutes.” I nodded. “Then we keep goin'. I'm gonna go back, cover our tracks.” Walking past her, I started back down the way we’d come.

“I'll go with you,” she offered, right behind me.

Before we got far, Tara spoke up, stopping us in our tracks.

“I have a question.” We turned to her before she gestured to Dwight. “Is there a reason why he's still breathing?”

“Fight ain't over.”

“It is for him,” she argued with me. “I'm done waiting.”

Looking over at Dwight, I knew it would be easy to deal with him here and now. But I also knew that he’d been valuable so far, and with everything a mess right now he could still be useful.

“Not now.” I shook my head. “Not yet.”

Rosita nodded. “He's right. Dwight could have an angle we don't know about. He could help. He wants to. Can't give that up yet. We just lost the kid. Let's just stop. At least until we get to the Hilltop.”

The look on Tara’s face made it clear that she didn’t agree, and that she wanted to take action now. I understood it, but I also knew that it wasn’t time. There was too much at stake to give up any tool we could use right now.

RPOV

“I shot above her head,” I assured Michonne as I drove down the road, heading away from the junk yard. “I just wanted her gone.” I glanced over at her, fidgeting my fingers on the steering wheel before I went on, “Look, I saw her. She made it. She ran into an empty alley just before I left.”

She did run in the direction of the ally, however I didn’t know if she had made it safely. There was no way to really know if she was going to make it.

“I didn't want her dead,” I added. “I just wanted her gone.”

“Feels like what Carl was talking about,” Michonne started. “What we should do when we have a choice.”

Her words stung. I didn’t want to think about what Carl had said, because to be honest… what he wanted from me was going to be hard. Especially now, with everything that we had going on. It meant going against every instinct in me.

But maybe he was right… and even if he wasn’t… I should still remember to honour him.

Pulling the car over, I found it hard to look her in the eyes. “Uh… um I need a se- I need a second.”

She put a reassuring hand on my knee. “It's fine.”

Nodding, I grabbed the letters from the glovebox and exited the car.

I walked over into the field I’d parked next to and began to flick through the letters. Crouching on the ground, I found Negan’s and opened it. The breath I took as my thoughts whirled was deep and shook, but I knew what had to be done.

Pulling the walkie from my belt, I spoke into it, “Get me Negan.”

“Who the hell is asking?”

I stood as I tried to control the rage that was burning inside me. “It's Rick Grimes.”

NPOV

With Lucille resting on my shoulder, I watched as Simon and the others drove back. They parked a few feet away from the entrance and got out as I began walking down the steps to meet them down there.

“Got it done?” I asked Simon as I approached him.

He nodded. “That and then some.” There was a pause as he noticed something was up. “You good?”

“Nothing on Gavin.”

There’d been nothing from anyone we’d sent to the Kingdom. It was radio silent, and it did not sit right with me. Rick and his people had shown they were capable of some crazy crap before, I was beginning to wonder if they’d pull off some miracle and managed to outsmart or out fight the people I’d sent their way.

“Want me to turn back around? Roll out?” Simon offered. “End the mystery?”

“I already sent a team out there.”

“Ah. Well, I'm sure he's A-okay,” he reassured me. “And if not, we'll just send another message.”

Ignoring him, I got back to him and his job. “So, tell me how it went.”

“Standard message and delivery. Showed 'em and told 'em. There was remorse.”

“Negan.”

I turned and watched as one of my other men, DJ, headed over to us with a walkie in hand. “Yeah. What is it?”

He handed the walkie over. “It's Rick.”

Now this was a surprise.

Taking the walkie from his grasp, I grinned as I started to speak. “Ricky. Look at you, callin' me up. You wanna tell me where you are so we can do this face-to-face?”

“Carl's dead.”

Everything in me froze. I grew cold as a pain began to knot in my throat.

Carl… I meant every word when I said he was a good kid. Everything I’ve ever said about him. He was one of a kind… he was supposed to outlast even the best of us. The was the best of us.

“He wrote letters. He wrote one to you,” Rick added. I took a seat on one of our concrete blockades as I listened. “He asked you to stop. He asked me to stop. He asked us for peace.” The tone of his voice turned venomous. “But it's too late for that. Even if we wanted a deal now, it doesn't matter. I'm gonna kill you.”

His threat fell on deaf ears. I didn’t care about the war, our hatred, or any vendetta right now. I cared about Carl.

“How did it happen?”

“What?”

“How did he die?” I asked. “Was it us? Was it the grenades? The fire?”

I knew that this fight, this war, was going to end in death and pain for a lot of people, but there were some I didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire. To think Carl could’ve died because of me. Because of my men.

Then there was Victoria.

Fuck. I looked up at the sky and felt the knot in my throat tighten, threatening to choke me. She didn’t deserve this. She’d already been through so much, and I’d promised no one was going to hurt her again. If I was the reason her brother was dead, I’d never forgive myself.

“It wasn't you,” he spat. “Carl went out to help someone. And he got bit.”

“God damn it.” I shook my head. “Shit. I, um… I am sorry. You know, I wanted him to be part of things. I had plans. He… that kid… that kid was the future.”

“The only future is one where you're dead.”

What the fuck? I could not believe what I was hearing. “What the hell are you doing, Rick? Why are you fighting? Why are you making this so hard?” I pushed off the blockade as I began to pace. “Carl is dead because of you. Because you couldn't leave shit well enough alone. I mean, hell, maybe he woulda died some other way. Any one of us can get our ticket punched at any second. But in this case? In this case he is dead because of you.” I wanted to make sure I was making myself very clear. “Because you weren't there to stop him from doing something stupid. You set this course, Rick. Who's next? Victoria? You gonna get her killed, too?” It was my turn to spit my words.

To think he had no regard for his children’s lives. He’s already gotten one killed.

If he kept following this path and it led to her death, I’d burn Alexandria, the Hilltop, and the Kingdom to the ground. I’d smother the ashes with my boots, and I’d crush the skulls of everyone on Rick’s side with Lucille.

“You keep my daughter’s name out of your mouth,” he growled. “Nothing’s gonna happen to her. The next person to die, I’m gonna make sure that person is you.”

“No. It’s not gonna be me, and it sure as shit isn’t gonna be Victoria. But it’s gonna be someone.” It was taking everything in me to keep my cool as I continued, “You see, I stop people from dying. I am the answer. Now, it may have taken a hard lesson for you to hear it, but you should hear it now. It's time. Do not let any more of your shit decisions cost you to lose anyone else you love. That garbage that sticks with you. Forever. Just like Carl will. Hell, I'm feeling it. And I'm gonna be feeling it for a while.”

I meant it. I meant every word. That kid was something else, something special. The Grimes kids were the kinds of people that shouldn’t just survive this world, but thrive in it. Those kids had already been through hell and back, and it had made them warriors.

Carl was supposed to do amazing things with his life. He was young, brave, resilient. He was going to build the future, and I’d been looking forward to watching him do it.

Taking a breath, I went on, “You could have just let me save all of you. I mean, that's why I killed your friends in the first place. So, you can sit there and you can say that you're gonna kill me, but you won't. You failed. You failed as a leader, and most of all, Rick, you failed as a father. Just give up. Give up, because you have already lost.”

VPOV

I had never felt anything like this before. I’d never felt both in pain and numb at the same time. My body ached with every step I took, my muscles begging me to curl up. To retreat from the world, and curl into the fetal position. My mind was screaming, both in need of water and in need of rest. It was begging me to make sense of what had happened. My lungs were clenching, refusing to take in air without a burning pain. They were tired of the strain caused by me being on the move, and they were tired of the shaking from my restrained and dying tears.

The tears had left tracks on my cheeks. I could feel them. I could imagine that they were clear against the coat of dirt on my skin. My mind struggled to shape the image, but it managed to come up with a picture of my cheeks and the tracks from my tears… and our group walking along the path. We’d made our own track in these woods, trying to find the safest way to the Hilltop.

As we’d walked through the woods, I had realised I had no idea where we were, or what we were doing. I wasn’t even sure who was with us. Who had made it out of Alexandria in one piece.

I hadn’t.

Losing Carl was like losing a slice of myself. Carl had been a source of strength and hope for me since the day he’d been born. The downfall of the world had just strengthened that bond more than I thought imaginable.

When I’d lost my family in the beginning, finding them again had been a Godsend. Spending that night curled up next to Carl in the tent, knowing I was safe, and he was safe… it was a relief I’d never felt before. I’d never thought I would feel anything close to that again.

After we’d lost Sophia and we’d been shot in our efforts to try and find her, I’d thought I would lose him then. My own injury had meant nothing in comparison to his safety and health. He was what mattered, nothing else. When he survived, I was relieved beyond belief.

Being separated from my family after the farm had fallen, I’d lost not only my loved ones but part of myself on the way. Months I’d spent losing memories, but the names of those who’d shaped who I was had always remained. Carl had been the one to pull me back, to remind me of myself.

So many times, I’d lost my brother, or almost lost my life. The fall of the prison, Grady Memorial Hospital, the warehouse where we lost Noah, when the Wolves attacked our home, meeting Negan, taking Daryl’s place at the Sanctuary. So many times we’d been broken, and yet each time we found each other.

Carl understood me like no one else. He understood the little girl in me that Daryl never could. He understood the woman in me that Mum never could. He understood the sister in me that Judith never would. He understood the child in me that Dad never could. Every ounce of who I was, before and now, was easily read by Carl… I would never have that relationship with anyone else.

“You ready to keep going?”

I looked up at Tobin as he looked down at me, my sister in his arms, Aly by his side, and Houdini on the other.

Our group had stopped to rest for the first time since we’d escaped the fires and chaos of Alexandria. Looking around now, I realised the others were all gathering themselves and their things to get ready and continue our journey.

With no words to speak, I lifted myself off the ground, forcing my body to work through the numb and the pain. As I started to put one foot in front of the other I made all thought of my loss push to the back of my mind until it was an endless echo.

The time for mourning would come, for now, it was time to keep going. To push forward. At this point… that was like going on autopilot. Pain was second nature to me. Easier than breathing.

NPOV

Sitting in the dim light the meeting room, I had my back to Eugene as he stood at the other end of the table. The sun was setting outside, leaving the room with a lighting that I knew would set the man on edge.

“I'm disappointed, Eugene,” I started. “This crap was supposed to be behind us. Two flushes and out the pipe. Top it all off, my only doctor and that creepy-ass priest somehow managed to jump ship without anybody knowing about it.” I took a breath and turned to face him. “You have any idea how something like that could happen, Eugene?”

He was practically shitting his pants. “No, I would not venture to guess.”

I wanted to believe him. Even though he was shitting himself, I wanted to believe him. The guy was scared of everything, but especially me. That would explain why he was shaking like a damn vibrator. But it also made me believe that he wouldn’t be so stupid and do something like letting two people escape.

Sucking my teeth, I decided I would trust him.

“Carson was never one of us. He was a weasel, just like his weasel brother. That's my best stab at it.”

“Drawing together associations and behaviours… that's a solid stab,” he agreed.

Eugene had been there when I’d dealt with the other Carson. He knew enough of the backstory to understand my distate for the brothers.

“Well, once their asses are caught and dragged back here. And they will be I'm gonna get the whole story out of 'em. One way or another, yes, I will.”

I was going to trust him… but I wasn’t fool enough to not double check his admission. If he truly wasn’t to blame here, then I would find out eventually.

“And Alexandria?” he asked. “What went down there?”

“Do you care?” I leaned forward in my chair, resting my arms on the table as I clasped my hands together. “Do you care, Eugene, after they tried to blow you off the face of this Earth?”

He hesitated, thinking his words over carefully before giving a short nod. “Your message is stamped ‘received’ and very much appreciated.”

“Oh, well, good.” I grinned. “You see, I got some news for you, Eugene. You are gonna be in charge of your very own outpost. You see, I need my bullet maker making bullets. Cutting a path through the dead took a toll on our reserves. So now you get the honours of providing me with the necessary bang-bang I'm gonna need to settle this whole situation with Rick for good.”

“And all that about people being resources and whatnot?”

Was he questioning me?

“Bullets are the last resort. I mean, hell, Lucille here.” I lifted her off the table and took a good look at the length of her. “She gets first dibs. But if Rick and his merry band of pricks decide to pull some shit, then we're gonna have to pull some right back that we'd rather not. That'll be on them. Not you. Not me. I'm gonna set you up at that machine shop that you told me about. You're gonna have a full security detail at your disposal. Everything that you need to keep your head in the game.” I leaned back in my chair. “Got Frankie there giving you massages. Tanya cooking. You know that gal was a chef?”

“I pictured her in social sciences. Management. Maybe running a drapes factory,” he mumbled. There was no keeping track of his mind’s coming and goings. But it was entertaining to listen to him… sometimes. “Will there be wine?”

My grin grew. “There will, indeed.”

The publisher nodded, moving to stand by the books that sat on a shelf. "Yep. Yeah. Gosh. These books... you know, they never really got the attention they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore is that romance crap. You know, Doctor Sexy, M.D.?" She scoffed, "Please."

"Right." Sam offered a polite smile, getting back on track. "Well, we're hoping that our article can... shine a light on an underappreciated series."

"Yeah, yeah." The publisher took a few steps towards us, clearly excited about that idea. "Because, you know, if we got a little bit of good press then m-maybe we could start publishing again."

"No, no, no, no. God, no," I said a little too quickly. In an instant, the woman went from excited to offended. "I mean, why- why would you want to do that? You know, it's, uh, such a complete series, what with Dean going to hell and all."

Once again, the publisher's mood changed as she got a little emotional. "Oh, my god! That was one of my favourite ones, because Dean was so... strong... and sad and brave. And Sam... I mean, the best parts are when they'd cry. You know, like in- in Heart, when Sam had to kill Madison, the first woman since Jessica he really loved. And in Home, when Dean had to call John and ask him for help." She turned away, moving to her desk. "Gosh... if only real men were so open and in touch with their feelings."

Liz let out a soft chuckle as I looked to the woman, confused and a little offended- though I wasn't sure why... "Real men?"

The publisher turned to us again. "I mean, no offense. How often do you cry like that, hmm?"

"Well, right now, I'm crying on the inside," I muttered to myself.

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Lady, this whole thing is funny."

Looking us up and down, moving to sit behind her desk, I could tell I'd messed up as the publisher started to shut down. "How do I know you three are legit, hmm?"

"Oh, trust me. We, uh..." I nodded, stepping a little closer to the desk, "we're legit."

"Well, I don't want any smart-ass article making fun of my boys."

"No! No, no, no. Never," Sam stammered.

"No, that's..."

Liz rolled her eyes. "These two don't like to admit it, seeing as they're emotionless real men. But we're all big fans," she told the publisher.

"Hmm." The publisher looked unconvinced. "You've read the books?"

"Cover to cover." I nodded, going along with Liz's story.

"What's the year and model of Dean's car?"

"It's a 1967 Chevy Impala," I answered with a proud smirk.

"What's May 2nd?"

"That's my- uh... that's Sam's birthday," Sam answered, correcting himself.

"January 24th is Dean's," I added.

"October 18th is Lizzie's." Liz finished.

"Lizzie's sister's name?"

"Gabriella," Liz answered. "Or Gabby for short." She shrugged.

"Sam's score on the LSAT?" the publisher asked.

"One..." Sam sounded a little unsure as he looked down at me for a moment, trying to remember. "Seventy-four?"

"Dean's favourite song?"

My smile returned. "It's a tie. Between Zep's Ramble on and Traveling Riverside Blues."

Slowly but surely, the publisher smile. "Okay." She nodded. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

"What's Carver Edlund's real name?" Sam asked, keeping it casual.

But the publisher shook her head. "Oh, no. I- no. Sorry, I can't do that."

"We just want to talk to him," Sam assured her. "You know, get the Supernatural story in his own words."

"He's very private. It's like Salinger."

Liz and I shared a look as Sam pressed a little more. "Please. Like I said- we are, um..." he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his anti-demon-protection tattoo, "big... big fans."

When Sam gave Liz and I a pointed look, Liz turned around and lifted her ponytail to show her tattoo which sat on the back of her neck. I rolled my eyes and side, pulling my shirt over slightly to show the publisher the anti-demon-possession tattoo that sat on my chest.

The publisher licked her lips, looking at Sam's and my tattoos. "Awesome," she chuckled lightly. "You know what?" She stood and turned, hiking up her skirt to show us her own tattoo which was on one of her cheeks. "I got one, too."

"Whoa." I tilted my head slightly, grinning. "You are a fan."

Putting her skirt back in place, the publisher grabbed a pen and paper. "Okay." She scribbled something down. "His name's Chuck Shurley. And he's a genius, so don't piss him off."

...

Sam, Liz and I got out of Baby, before walking across the street to the rundown house. This is where the publisher had sent us, but it looked like the place might be empty. If it wasn't for the motorcycle at the front, I would have thought we were in the wrong place.

As we climbed the porch stairs, and came to a stop by the door, Sam and I shared a look as Liz lifted her hand to ring the doorbell.

There was a moment or two before the door opened, revealing a short guy dressed in a white tank, boxers and dressing gown. He hadn't shaven in a while, his stubble turning to bush. He looked tired as he slightly squinted at the sunlight.

"You Chuck Shurley?" I asked.

"The Chuck Shurley who wrote the Supernatural books?" Sam added.

The guy looked to each of us. "Maybe. Why?"

"I'm Dean. This is Sam. And that's Elizabeth. The Dean, Sam and Elizabeth you've been writing about."

Without a word, the guy closed the door in our faces. Sighing, Liz lifted her hand and rang the doorbell again. This time it opened almost instantly.

"Look, uh..." Chuck shook his head, seeming slightly agitated. "I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do. It's, uh, it's always nice to hear from the fans. But, uh, for your own good, I strongly suggest you get a life." He went to shut the door again.

I reached over Liz and grabbed the door, stopping it from closing. "See, here's the thing. We have a life. You've been using it to write your books." Shoving the door opened, I moved around Liz and made my way into the house, forcing Chuck to back up.

"Now, wait a minute. Now, this isn't funny."

With Sam and Liz behind me, I followed Chuck into the living room. "Damn straight, it's not funny."

"Look, we just want to know how you're doing it," Sam told him, not as pissed as I was.

"I'm not doing anything," Chuck insisted.

"Are you a hunter?" I asked.

"What? No. I'm a writer."

"Then how do you know so much about demons?" I advanced on him, ready to use violence to get answers. He backed away more, falling onto the couch as I went on, "And Tulpas, and changelings?"

"Is this some kind of Misery thing?" Looking to each of us then, Chuck groaned, "It is, isn't it? It's a Misery thing!"

I frowned at him, getting more a more agitated. "No, it's not a Misery thing. Believe me, we are not fans!"

"Well, then, what do you want?!"

"They're Sam and Dean. I'm Elizabeth," Liz tried to explain once more.

But Chuck just didn't seem to get it. "Sam, Dean and Elizabeth are fictional characters. I made them up! They're not real!"

EPOV

Dean opened the trunk to show Chuck all the weapons and things we used during hunts.

Chuck's jaw fell open before he looked to the brothers. "Are those real guns?"

"Yup." Dean gestured to some of the items. "This is real rock salt, these are real fake IDs."

"Well, I got to hand it to you guys. You really are my number one fans." Clearly nervous, Chuck started to back up towards the house. "That's, that's awesome. So, I- I think I've got some posters in the house."

"Chuck, stop," Dean called.

Raising his hands up in defence, Chuck looked like he was about to crap himself. "Please. Wait. Please, don't hurt me."

Ignoring him, Sam got back to the questioning. "How much do you know? Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?"

"Wait a minute." Every part of Chuck changed as he looked to each of us going from scared to confused. "How do you know about that?"

"The question is, how do you," Dean noted.

"Because I wrote it?"

I frowned. "You mean you're still writing?"

"Yeah, even after the publisher went bankrupt, but those books never came out. Okay, wait a minute. This is some kind of joke, right? Did that... did Phil put you up to this?"

"Well, nice to meet you. I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my brother, Sam. And this is Elizabeth Hart."

It was Chuck's turn to frown, even more confused now. "The last names were never in the books. I never told anybody about that. I never even wrote that down."

…

I sat on a chair by Chuck's dining table as Sam and Dean stood close by. The three of us were watching as Chuck poured himself a drink, before he turned and jumped at the sight of us and groaned.

"Oh! Oh, you're still there."

"Yup." Dean shoved his hands into his pocket.

"You're not a hallucination."

Dean shook his head. "Nope."

"Well," Chuck sighed, "there's only one explanation. Obviously, I'm a god."

"You're not a god," Sam assured him.

"How else do you explain it?" Chuck asked. "I write things and then they come to life. Yeah, no, I'm definitely a god. A cruel, cruel, capricious god. The things I put you through. The physical beatings alone."

"Yeah, we're still in one piece," Dean muttered.

Chuck looked to him. "I killed your father. I burned your mother alive." He turned to Sam. "And then you had to go through the whole horrific deal again with Jessica. And you?" He turned to me. "Oh, God. I didn't even leave you with your sister."

"Chuck," Sam warned.

Chuck just shook his head, moving to face the sink as he folded his arms over his chest. "All for what? All for the sake of literary symmetry. I toyed with your lives, your emotions, for... entertainment."

"You didn't toy with us, Chuck, okay?" Dean started, taking a step closer to the writer. "You didn't create us."

Chuck turned to Dean again. "Did you really have to live through the bugs?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"What about the ghost ship?"

Dean sighed. "Yes, that too."

"I am so sorry." I was pretty sure Chuck meant it, too. "I mean, horror is one thing, but to be forced to live bad writing... if I would have known it was real, I would have done another pass."

"Chuck, you're not a god!" Dean snapped.

"We think you're probably just psychic," Sam explained.

But Chuck didn't seem to agree as he frowned and shook his head. "No." He moved to sit at the table, across from me. "If I were psychic, you think I'd be writing? Writing is hard."

"It seems that somehow, you're just... focused on our lives," Sam noted.

"Yeah, like laser-focused," Dean added.

I took a deep breath, lifting a shaking hand to rub at my temple. "Are you working on anything right now, Chuck?"

There was a moment where Chuck thought about it before his eyes went wide. "Holy crap."

"What?" Dean asked.

Chuck picked up some papers from the table. "The, uh, latest book? It's, uh… it's kind of weird."

"'Weird' how?" Sam pressed.

"It's very Vonnegut."

Dean leaned forward, placing to hands on the table. "Slaughterhouse-Five Vonnegut or Cat's Cradle Vonnegut?"

Sam looked to his brother, surprised. "What?"

"What?" Dean shrugged defensively.

Getting back on track, Chuck answered, "It's, uh, Kilgore Trout Vonnegut. I wrote myself into it," he explained. "I wrote myself, at my house... confronted by my characters."

DPOV

I sat on the bench in the laundromat as I looked through the pages Chuck had given us. Sam was doing some laundry, while Liz sat next to me, doing nothing but watching and waiting.

"I'm sitting in a laundromat, reading about myself sitting in a laundromat reading about myself." I frowned, feeling a headache coming on. "My head hurts."

"There's got to be something this guy's not telling us." Sam turned to toss his dark clothes into one of the machines.

"'Sam tossed his gigantic darks into the machine. He was starting to have doubts about Chuck, about whether he was telling the whole truth'," I read.

Sam turned to me. "Stop it."

I just continued to read aloud. "'"Stop it," Sam said.".' Guess what you do next." He turned away again, right before I started to read once more. "Sam turned his back on Dean, his face brooding and pensive'." I shook my head. "I mean, I don't know how he's doing it, but this guy is doing it. I can't see your face, but those are definitely your brooding and pensive shoulders." As Sam sighed I looked down at the manuscript again. "You just thought I was a dick."

Liz chuckled lightly.

Turning around to face us again, Sam looked impressed. "The guy's good."

EPOV

I sat on the arm of the armchair in Chuck's living room, while Dean stood next to me and Sam sat on the armchair a few feet away. Chuck walked in, still in the same dressing gown, white shirt and boxers he'd had on before. Moving to stand on the other side of the coffee table, he paced as he looked down at the pages in his hands.

"So..." Sam broke the silence. "You wrote another chapter?"

Chuck finally looked to each of us. "This was all so much easier before you were real."

"We can take it," Dean assured him. "Just spit it out."

Chuck turned to him them. "You especially are not gonna like this."

"I didn't like Hell," Dean noted.

Taking a deep breath, Chuck built up enough courage to tell us why he'd ask us to come here… "It's Lilith. She's coming for Sam."

I tensed. But not for the reasons you probably think… see, hearing Lilith's name like that… I was instantly reminded of what Tristan had said…

"You know, when I was first put on your case, when Lilith said she wanted me to keep an eye on you, to prep you..." That's what he'd said. "I was told to befriend you. Keep you safe. Help you grow. Get you ready for what's to come."

For the last few weeks I'd done everything I could possibly do to suppress the memory of what had happened in the cabin, despite the fact that I should probably face the truth. A demon had been sent to watch over and poison me. Why? I had no idea. But I knew Lilith had something to do with it.

The fact she was coming here, to find Sam, it scared the crap out of me. What if she knew I knew about Tristan? What if she knows Tristan isn't watching me anymore? What if she knows I've stopped taking demon blood? I was pretty sure she wanted me on it. So, would she force me into drinking more? Into drinking hers…?

"Excuse me." I stood and hurried out of the room and out of the house, needing air.

SPOV

We watched as Lizzie hurried out of the room and out of the house, but before I could go after her to make sure she was okay, Dean spoke up, stopping me.

"Is she coming to kill him?"

Looking away from my brother and back to the writer, I sighed. "When?"

"Tonight."

"She's just gonna show up? Here?" Dean asked.

Chuck took a deep breath as he sat down on the couch, slipped his glasses on and looked down at the manuscript. "Uh... let's see, uh… 'Lilith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desire, Sam succumbed, and they sank into the throes of fiery demonic passion'," he finished, looking up at us again.

I let out a short laugh. "You're kidding me, right?"

Dean turned to me. "You think this is funny?"

"You don't? I mean, come on. 'Fiery demonic passion'?"

"It's just a first draft." Chuck looked offended.

Frowning, Dean shook his head, seeming confused about something. "Wait, wait, wait, wait. Lilith is a little girl."

"No, uh, this time she's a 'comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana'," Chuck explained.

"Great. Perfect," Dean sighed. "So, what happens after the... 'fiery demonic' whatever?"

"I don't know, it hasn't come to me yet," Chuck answered.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Dean actually thought this was all going to happen? Come on. "Dean, look, there's nothing to worry about. Lilith and me? In bed?"

Dean looked to me briefly before turning back to Chuck. "How does this whole psychic thing of yours work?"

"You mean my process?"

"Yes, your 'process'."

Chuck shrugged. "Well, it usually starts with a headache. A really bad headache. Aspirin is useless, so... I drink. Until I fall asleep. The first time it happened, I thought it was just a crazy dream."

"The first time you dreamt about us?" Dean asked.

"It flowed. It just, it kept flowing. It still does. I-I can't stop it, really," Chuck explained.

"You can't seriously believe-"

Dean cut me off, "Humour me." He took a step closer to the coffee table as he went to go on as Chuck held up the manuscript for him. "Look, why don't we, we just..." He took the manuscript and read from it… "'Take a look at these and see what's what.'" Still looking down at the pages, he spoke to Chuck. "You-"

"...knew you were gonna ask for that." Chuck nodded. "Yeah."

EPOV

The front door opened as Sam and Dean walked out and onto the porch. I stood at the bottom of the steps, leaning on the railing. Seeing the brothers, I quickly pushed off the railing and shoved my hands into my pockets, setting my gaze to the ground.

A hand rested on my arm as Dean came to stand in front of me. "You okay?"

I just nodded, not saying a word.

"Hey." He raised his hand to my chin, tilting it so I looked at him. "We're gonna be fine. We're gonna get out of here before Lilith comes, and we're gonna take you home. Okay?"

Once again, I nodded. I didn't want to say anything that might upset or worry either Dean or Sam. They might think I was worried about Lilith coming for Sam- which I was- but what they didn't know was that I was worried about myself as well.

"Come on." He moved to rest a hand on my back, leading me towards Baby.

I turned back to the house for a moment- don't ask me why, I just did. My eyes landed on Chuck as he stood in his doorway, hands tucked into the pockets of his dress gown, eyes full of pity and guilt. It was at that moment that I realised he knew everything…

DPOV

Driving down the road, I glanced at Liz through the rear-view mirror. She was sitting in the back, looking out the window, silent. Sam, on the other hand, was next to me, reading through the manuscript, talking out loud.

"Dean, come on." He shook his head. "'The minivan accident wasn't that bad, but Dean was still seeing stars. He scratched absently at the pink flower Band-Aids on his face'."

"So?" I shrugged.

"So, I've seen you gushing blood. You'd use duct tape and bar rags before you'd put on a pink flower Band-Aid."

"What's your point?"

"My point is this," he gestured to the pages in his hands, "all of this, is totally implausible. It's nuts."

"He's been right about everything so far," I noted. "You think he's just gonna ground out at first now?"

Scoffing, Sam read some more to try and prove his point. "Huh. 'Dean slid behind the wheel of his beloved Impala and drove off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow'."

"A tarp?" Okay, I had to admit, I found it hard to believe that.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. On the rear window. And you drive it like that."

But despite the fact that I couldn't get on board with that, I still wanted to play things safe. "Well, he might be wrong about the details, but doesn't mean he's wrong about the end result."

"So, we're just gonna run?" he asked.

"Dude, we are a long way from ready for a face-to-face death match with Lilith." I didn't understand why he wasn't getting that. We came to a roadblock then. I rolled to a stop as a deputy came to lean over and talk to us. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Bridge is out ahead," the deputy explained.

"We're just trying to get out of town."

He just shook his head. "Yeah, afraid not."

"Is there a detour?"

"Nope."

Oh, come on. "There's not a side road that takes us to the highway?"

"To get to the highway, you have to cross that river. To cross the river, you have to take that bridge."

"How deep's the river?"

Instead of answering, the deputy just got straight to the point. "Sorry. Afraid you're gonna have to spend the night in town."

Great.

SPOV

Sitting in a diner, I looked over the menu while Dean read the manuscript and Lizzie fiddled with the salt shaker. I glanced at her every once in a while, my concern growing. She hadn't spoken since we'd left Chuck's…

"Hey, this could be a good thing," Dean started. "I mean, if this is what puts us on the path to Lilith, then all we got to do is get off the path."

I looked up at him. "How do you mean?"

"It's a blueprint of what not to do. I mean, if the pages say that we go left-"

"Then we go right," I finished.

He nodded. "Exactly. We get off-book. We never make it to the end. It's opposite day. It says that we, uh, we get into a fight." He shrugged. "So, no fighting. No research for you..."

"No bacon cheeseburger for you," I added.

For a moment, he looked uncomfortable and disappointed, but he quickly played it off with another shrug. "Yeah, no problem. I'll just order something else," he told me right as the waitress came by. "Hi, uh, what's good?" he asked her.

The waitress smiled down at him. "Well, if you like burgers, Oprah's girlfriend said we have the best bacon cheeseburgers in the country," she noted, making me laugh lightly.

Dean ignored me, grabbing a menu for himself. "Really?"

Seeing that he was going to take a second, I ordered my own food. "I'll just have the cobb salad, please," I told the waitress.

Still looking at the menu, Dean ordered the first thing he saw. "I'll have the... veggie tofu burger. Thanks."

"And what about you sweetheart?" the waitress looked to Lizzie.

"I'm not hungry, thanks," Lizzie mumbled, handing her menu over.

Both Dean and I paused as we looked to Lizzie. She was basically a female version of Dean, which meant she liked food, a lot. Over the years of knowing her I'd never heard or seen her decline the opportunity to eat, unless she was really upset or not feeling well. Even then, it had to be very serious before she'd actually say no to food.

Shrugging, the waitress took the menus and left.

Once we were alone again, Dean leaned closer to Lizzie. "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine," she answered, her voice flat.

Dean and I shared a look, neither of us believing her. Sighing, I turned back to Lizzie. "You know you can talk to us, right?"

She didn't respond right away. She just sat there reaching over to play with the salt shaker again. I watched her hands, noticing the way they shook lightly. She looked a little pale as well… something was clearly wrong.

"I'm just not feeling too well," was all she mumbled before she looked up at Dean. "You think I could go lie down in the car?"

Nodding, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the keys. "Just… let us know if you need anything."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks." She lightly nodded as she reached for the keys.

We watched as she stood up and walked out, her hands shoved into her leather jacket's pockets. Her head down, hair falling around her, back hunched slightly… she looked nothing like the fun-loving Lizzie we were used to…

Shaking my head, I turned back to Dean, knowing there was nothing we could do to help Lizzie at that moment. We had more pressing things to deal with. "This whole thing's ridiculous."

Frowning, Dean turned his gaze to me. "What? Are you saying Liz is ridiculous? Or are you saying Lilith is ridiculous?"

"The idea of me hooking up with Lilith is," I answered.

He chuckled lightly, clearly not agreeing with me. "Right. 'Cause something like that can never happen."

I started to scowl but stopped myself, not wanting to fight with him. "Dean, for the first time, we have warning that Lilith is close."

"So?"

"So... we've got the jump on her. If we know when she's coming, we know where she is. This is an opportunity."

"Are you-" Before he could snap, Dean stopped himself and started again. "It frustrates me when you say such reckless things."

"Well, it frustrates me when you'd rather hide than fight."

The waitress came back then, with a smile and our food. "Cobb salad for you." She placed the plate in front of me before turning to Dean. "And the tofu veggie burger for you."

"Thank you." Dean nodded to her. Once she left he leaned forward, talking to me again. "It's not hiding. It's being smart. It's picking your battles. This is a battle that we are not ready to fight." he argued as he grabbed his burger. I watched him take a bite, waiting to see his response, only to be shocked as his eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, my god. This is delicious. Tofu is amazing!"

Hurrying back, the waitress looked down at Dean apologetically, clearly flustered. "I am so sorry. I gave you the bacon cheeseburger by mistake," she told him before she grabbed his plate and took it away.

So much for getting off the book…

She was dead. I hadn't wanted to believe it, but now that I'd seen her body with my own eyes there was no denying the truth.

Mourning her death would have to come later, though. Right now, we needed to find Boyd and Cora before they killed someone innocent.

We'd all split up in the hopes of finding the faster. But in the end Scott and I were both drawn to the growls and roars of Boyd.

It didn't take much longer before we both found him, right before he was about to attack two little kids. Fortunately, a swarm of fireflies began buzzing around his head, distracting him long enough for Scott and me to grab a kid each and run.

There was no way we stood a chance against him, especially not with two kids at risk as well.

…

"You lost them?" I heard Derek through Scott's phone as my brother spoke to him while I took care of the kids.

"Yeah, I kind of had to," Scott answered.

"Wasn't exactly the plan," Derek commented.

"I know, which is why I think that we should stick together. Trust me, he's too strong, too fast, and way too angry for one person to handle. We've got to do this together," Scott told him.

Derek sighed, "Look, I'm at the trails by the entrance to the preserve. Can you meet me here?"

"Yeah." Scott nodded. "We just got to drop something off first." He looked to me as I stood between the boy and girl, both of them clinging to me, shaking with fear.

…

Running through the reserve with Scott and Derek, we came to a stop as Derek found some tracks. Not just the one set we'd been following… now there were two sets.

"Is it them?" Scott asked.

"We're not the only ones that decided to stick together," Derek noted.

Scott sighed. "Is that gonna make it easier or harder to catch them?"

"I don't know," Derek said, telling the truth.

Glancing at me, Scott looked worried as he spoke again, "Derek, we saw Boyd try to rip two little kids apart… are they gonna do that to everyone they find?"

Looking to each of us, Derek answered honestly yet again. "Everyone and anyone."

…

The sound of scream had Scott, Derek and I running faster. By the time we reached the screaming young woman we found Cora already there. But, luckily, Isaac had beaten us there and had stopped her from attacking the woman.

Cora attacked Isaac instead, throwing him away from her with insane strength.

Scott didn't hesitate as he pounced towards her, kicking her down and away as I hurried over to make sure Isaac was alright. Once he was back on his feet we moved to stand with Scott, Derek doing the same, the four of us creating a border between Cora and the woman.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to get through us, Cora growled and roared before turning and running off. Derek and Isaac were right behind her. Scott and I stayed behind though, needing to make sure the woman was okay.

Turning to her, Scott moved gentle and carefully, so as not to spook her more than she already was. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"What?" Her voice shook with fear and confusion as she backed away.

"Are you all right?" Scott repeated.

When she nodded, letting us know she hadn't been hurt or anything, I relaxed a little. "You need to get out of here, okay?"

"Get out of the woods," Scott added. "Get out of here as fast as you can."

Not having the time to see if she would listen, the two of us turned and ran after the others, hoping we could catch them in time before they ran into any more trouble.

…

Derek and Isaac had lost Cora. They couldn't find any more tracks. Boyd was nowhere to be seen. Things were just getting worse with each passing second. Now, to top it off, Scott was on the phone to Stiles, who was with Lydia… who apparently found a dead body.

"Are you sure?" Scott asked. If Stiles was right Boyd or Cora had already killed someone, and we were too late.

"Yep," Stiles answered shortly. "Throat ripped out, blood everywhere. It's like the freakin' Shining over here. Two little twin girls come out of the woods, start asking me to play with them forever and ever, I'm not gonna be surprised."

"Can you get a little closer to make sure it was them?"

"Make sure it was them? Scott, who else is going around ripping throats out?"

"Please just do it," Scott told him.

Stiles sighed on the other end as he did as my brother asked.

I stood with Derek and Isaac, behind Scott, waiting and listening. I was really hoping he had it wrong and it was just a random dead body. I didn't want to think about what we might have to do if Boyd or Cora had killed someone.

"Scott… it was them."

"Okay," Scott nodded as he turned to us. "Thanks Stiles." He hung up then.

Derek shook his head. "This doesn't make any sense. The public pool is all the way on the other side of the woods. We haven't tracked them anywhere near there."

"Derek, they killed someone," Scott noted.

But Derek wasn't listening. "How are they moving so fast?"

"Derek."

"But they can't be that fast on foot!" Derek exclaimed.

"They killed someone!" Scott snapped. "Some totally innocent kid is dead. And it's our fault."

Arms folded over his chest, Derek shook his head again. "It's my fault."

"Hey, no." I turned to him. "It's no one's fault, okay? We can't start all that crap. What's done is done. Now, can we focus on the task, please?"

"We need help," Scott noted.

"We have Isaac now." Derek gestured to the Beta in question.

But that wasn't enough for Scott. "I mean real help." When Isaac looked to him, slightly offended, Scott went on, "They're too fast for us, for all of us. They're too strong, too rabid."

"We'll catch 'em," Derek insisted.

"What happens if we do?" Isaac asked, having a good point. "We just gonna hold them down until the sun comes up?"

Sighing, Derek looked down at the ground with a guilty shrug. "Maybe it would be easier just to kill 'em."

"That is out of the question," I told them all, voice stern. I needed to get the through each of their heads. We weren't killing anyone tonight.

"Killing them isn't the right thing to do," Scott agreed.

"What if it's the only thing to do? If we can't even catch them, what else do we do?" Another good point from Isaac.

"Find someone who knows what they're doing," Scott suggested.

"Who?" Derek asked.

"Someone who knows how to hunt werewolves."

…

I sat in the front seat of Derek's car, he was behind the wheel, while Isaac was in the back. We were currently parked in the local supermarket's parking lot, watching and waiting as Scott confronted Mr Argent in the hopes he might help us.

"Do you think this is gonna work?" Isaac asked, his head popping into the front from between Derek's and my seats.

"Nope," Derek and I answered at the same time.

"Me neither." Sighing, Isaac moved back into his seat. There was a moment's pause before he spoke up again. "So, your, uh… your sister…" he started, talking about Cora.

Derek had filled the two of us in on the way here. Apparently, Cora was his long-lost sister. He thought she'd died in the fire all those years ago, but here she was, in beacon Hills. It was just one more reason to make sure neither her nor Boyd died tonight.

At the mention of his sister, and the tone in Isaac's voice, Derek turned to give his Beta a warning glare.

"Sorry, yeah, it's- it's bad timing, I'm sorry." Isaac cleared his throat. "I'll ask later. It's fine." But Derek just glared again. "Or never. Yeah, yeah, I'm good with never."

Nodding, Derek turned back to watch Scott and Mr Argent again.

I reached over to rest my hand over his as it sat on the gear stick. His eyes fell to our hands before he turned his over, intertwining our fingers.

Despite all the issues with Boyd and Cora, I couldn't deny the fact that I was grateful. If Allison hadn't been in the bank Scott and Derek probably wouldn't have made it out of there alive. I owed her everything for that.

When we both turned back to Scott and Mr Argent we saw them heading into the latter car.

Isaac shifted in his seat as Derek turned on his car "What is your brother doing?" Isaac asked me.

"Plan B," I answered. "If Scott can't convince Mr Argent we needed his help… then he's going to show him."

…

We'd followed Chris Argent and Scott around town. The plan was for Scott to ask to be dropped off somewhere, which Mr Argent would of course agree to. Little did he know, my brother had led him straight to the crime scene of the boy Cora and Boyd had killed.

That had been enough to convince him to help.

Mr Argent dropped a bag of supplies on to the dirt ground of the reserve. "You're tracking them by print?"

"Trying to," Scott answered.

"Well, then, you've been wasting your time." Chris crouched down by two sets of tracks we'd found. "There's only one creature on earth that can visually track footprints, and that's man. And if you're not trained like me, you have no idea that this print is Boyd's," he gestured to one set of tracks before pointing to the other's next to them, "and these-"

"Are Cora's," Isaac finished for him.

"Nope," Chris sighed. "They're yours. You trampled Cora's as soon as you walked over here." He stood again, looking to each of us. "Listen, I know the four of you are focusing half your energy on resisting your own urges under the full moon, but that puts you at a severe disadvantage to Boyd and Cora, who have fully given in. They put the pedal to the floor where you three are barely hitting the speed limit."

"So, what do we do?" Derek asked, his arms folded over his chest. I could hear the annoyed tone in his voice. He hated the fact he was getting help from an Argent.

"Focus on your sense of smell," Mr Argent told him. "Actual wolves are known to track their prey by up to a hundred Miles a day by scent. A trained hunter can use scent to track them. If the wind is with them, wolves can track a scent by a distance of two Miles, which means we can draw them to us. Or into a trap."

Reaching into his bag, he started to pull some things out. Ropes, hooks, cables, things we could use to make traps. He handed them to the rest of us as he continued to talk.

"Full moon does give us one advantage. They'll have a higher heat signature, which makes them easier to spot with infrared." Pulling more stuff out of his bag, he handed each of us infrared goggles.

"Thanks," Derek handed his back, "but I've got my own." He flashed his ruby red Alpha eyes at the former hunter.

"Just remember, we're not hunting wild animals." Chris looked to each of us. "Underneath those impulses are two intelligent human beings. Don't think they can't rely on that human side. It's suppressed, but it's there, reminding them how to mask their scent, how to cover their tracks, how to survive."

…

The five of us walked up to edge of the reserve cliff, from here we had the best vantage point of the whole town. We could see it all.

"When's the last time you saw your sister?" Chris asked Derek.

"Nine years," Derek answered. "I thought she died in the fire."

"Do you feel like you have a lock on her scent?" Derek shook his head at Chris' question. "Scott, Angela," Chris looked over his shoulder to us, "how confident are you in your skills?"

Scott and I shared a look before he spoke, "Honestly, most of the time, I'm trying not to think about all the things I can smell."

"Same here," I added.

"All right." Chris turned back to town then. "The problem is when they breach the woods and hit the residential area. Once they're past the high school, they're right in the middle of beacon hills."

"They're not gonna kill everything they see, are they?" Isaac asked, genuinely worried and concerned.

"No." Chris shook his head. "But there is an important difference to recognise. Wolves hunt for food. At a certain point, they get full. But Boyd and Cora are hunting for the pleasure of the kill, for some primal apex predatory satisfaction that comes from the ripping of warm bodies to bloody shreds. And who knows when that need gets satiated?"

"We're not killing them." I needed to make that clear.

Derek looked to me, unsure. "What if we can't catch 'em?"

"Then maybe we just need to contain them," Chris suggested. "There's no one in the school at night, is there?"

Looking away from me, Derek turned to Chris. "You want to trap them inside?"

Chris gave a short shrug. "If there's somewhere with a strong enough door, no windows or access to the outside."

"What about the boiler room? It's just one big steel door," Isaac noted.

Pausing a moment, Chris thought about the options and risks of what we were about to do. There was a big chance one or some of us could get hurt doing this Hell, we could get killed.

But innocent people were in danger. People who couldn't take care of themselves were at risk of crossing Boyd and Cora's path. They needed us.

"You're sure the school's empty?" Chris asked, needing to be sure.

"It has to be." Scott looked to each of us for confirmation. "There can't be anyone there this late, right?" His eyes landed on me then.

Honestly, I had no idea. But I hoped it was empty…

…

Crouching, Mr Argent stabbed a stainless-steel stake into the ground. "These are ultrasonic emitters. It's one of the tools we use to corral werewolves, pushing them into a direction we want them to run." He pressed the button on the top of the stake, turning on a light and emitting a high-pitched noise. "Gives off a high-pitched frequency that only they can hear." He grinned.

Derek, Isaac, Scott and myself had our hands covering our ears as the noise surrounded us. It was a painfully high noise, one that was ringing my eardrums to the point I could feel them vibrating.

"God, no kidding!" Isaac exclaimed.

"Turn it off!" I snapped. "Turn it off!"

Doing as I said, Chris turned the emitter off before he stood and moved to the trunk of his car which was just a few feet away. Opening his trunk, he showed us the other dozen emitters he had with him, before he started to hand them out

"These are gonna drive them to the school?" Derek asked, sounding a little doubtful.

"And then it's up to you to get them into the basement," Chris told him, handing the last few emitters to me.

Isaac looked to the emitters he was holding, not too sure about the plan either. "Does anyone else want to rethink the plan where we just, uh, kill 'em?"

Turning to him, I gave a pointed look. "We're not killing them."

"It's going to work," Scott assured us. "It'll work."

…

After scattering the emitters around the reserve in a way that would lead Boyd and Cora to the school, we opened the place up before moving to get ready for their arrival. Derek was inside, the rest of us out, standing in areas where Boyd and Cora were luckily to come through.

It didn't take long.

We heard their howl first. Then we saw them. I was close to Isaac, keeping watch, waiting, when we both felt them near.

"Oh, great," Isaac sighed.

Turning, we saw both Boyd and Cora standing there, claws and fangs extended, the look in their yellow eyes telling us exactly what was coming next.

Despite the fact that they could very well kill us in an instant with very little effort, we stayed where we were. Getting into a stance that might help us fight back or run away, our own claws extending as our eyes began to growl, we waited.

A car came speeding around the corner, the horn honking, the bright lights shinning on the two rabid wolves. The turned to it and growled before making a break for it, heading towards the school building. Heading straight for the door we had open for them.

So far, it was all going according to plan.

Suddenly, as they reached the door and looked in, they stopped. They didn't enter the building, instead they spotted Derek and jumped. Before any of us could react, they started to climb the wall of the building…

Guess I spoke too soon.

"They're not going through the school," Scott noted. "They're going over it."

Derek came rushing out as the rest of us hurried towards him and the open door.

"The red doors, someone has to get them open," Chris started. Derek turned and ran off to go do exactly that.

Scott looked to the rest of us, panicked. "Someone has to drive them inside."

"I'll go," Chris offered, but Isaac quickly stopped him.

"No. I'm faster."

I nodded. "We'll go. You two just make sure you can actually get them into the boiler room," I told them before both Isaac and I hurried off in an effort to catch up with the other two werewolves.

…

When Isaac and I ran around the corner we found both Boyd and Cora there, stuck. They were being cornered as something continuously exploded with bright flashes… bright flashes I recognised.

Moving towards the wild werewolves, I didn't waste the moment. Using their distraction as an advantage, I managed to push them in the direction of the doors as Isaac opened them. With the bright flashes and new threats, they didn't bother putting up a fight. Instead, they took the bait, and ran inside.

Isaac and I threw the doors closed, pressing ourselves against them just in case they tried to get out again. After a moment of nothing we both turned and looked up to the roof of one of the busses. Standing there, bow in hand, was none other than Allison Argent.

To say I was surprised would be an understatement. But before any of us could say anything she was already turning and dashing off, disappearing without a sound. As much as I wanted to go after her, to make sure she was okay, to ask what the hell she was doing, I knew there were more pressing things to deal with in that moment.

Things like the two wild werewolves that were still on the loose.

…

I ran. I ran so hard and fast everything was a blur. I'd left Isaac behind. I felt an urgency deep in my gut. There was a foreign panic there, like something somewhere knew I would hate whatever was going on. I had no idea what was wrong, I just knew the circumstances had changed.

Running around the corner, I spotted the next doorway up ahead. I could see the decent of the stairs, the light, I could sense my brother, Derek, the other werewolves. I could sense the tension in the air. It was thick and suffocating… it was wrong.

When I reached the stairs and started down them, my heart sunk with each step. The lower I got the lower my heart sunk.

Scott was alone.

I came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, breathing heavily, my eyes wide, the panic in my stomach and chest rising to the surface. "Where is he? Where's Derek?"

All Scott did was look to the locked boiler room door.

No. No… no, no, no, no. No. No. No. No!

Acting out of pure instinct, I reached for the door. But Scott was right there, stopping me.

"Someone else is in there," he tried to explain. "He had to go in. He did it to save them."

None of that mattered to me though. "They're going to kill him!" I could feel the tears brimming, my throat clenching, my heart shrivelling up into nothing. "Scott, you have to let me through. Please. I can't- I can't lose him!"

He stayed strong though, not letting me pass. "If I let you go, they'll kill you."

"If you don't let me go and he dies… I'll die, too."

Nothing in that moment felt more true than that. Derek meant so much to me. He meant more than I could comprehend. There was something between us, something more than what anyone could see. There was a connection that ran deeper than the bond we had with our own wolf sides.

The words couldn't be said… but the feelings were there.

"Scott? Angela?" Isaac's voice rang through the school. "The sun's coming up. Guys! The sun's coming up!"

With one more look at Scott, an understanding being passed between us, we both then moved.

The door was thrown open before I hurried in first, Scott right behind me, Isaac following closely. We rushed through the boiler room, down a few stairs, around a couple of corners, before we found them.

Derek was kneeling on the ground, torn and cut up. Cora and Boyd lay by his sides, both passed out and back to normal.

Once again, I reacted out of instinct. It pushed me forward.

Running up to Derek, I fell to my knees and threw my arms around him, holding him close. He was out of breath, tired, sore, but he still managed to wrap his arm around me as he turned his face into my hair and neck before he breathed in.

Pulling back a little, Derek looked to Scott and Isaac. "There's a teacher. I'll take care of her. Get them out of here." He gestured to Cora and Boyd.

They got to work, doing as he said, leaving Derek and I to turn to each other once more. There were things to do, but in that moment, we needed the reassurance of this embrace.

We scented each other without really thinking about it. The panic melted away as relief washed over us.

He was okay. We were all okay.

Dean looked up, catching your eye in the mirror. He didn’t comment, but you knew he heard you, and by the way Sam shifted ever so slightly, you knew he heard as well. Both brothers had an idea of where you stood with John- Sam more than Dean- and neither was willing to comment on it. At least not yet, and not in front of the other.

“Don't worry I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing,” Dean insisted, getting back to the topic at hand.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, not sounding convinced. “What makes you so sure?”

“Cause I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right.”

“No it doesn't.”

“It totally does,” Dean insisted.

…

Leaning against Baby with Sam as Dean went to get some coffees, you watched the playground on the park you’d stopped next to. You were frowning, watching the scene in front of you, feeling uneasy.

There was only one child in sight, and she was barely playing.

Returning to you and Sam, Dean handed out the coffees he was carrying. “Well...the waitress thinks the local freemasons are up to something sneaky but other than that no one's heard about anything freaky going on.”

“Dean you got the time?” Sam asked, a curious frown furrowing his brows.

You looked up at him and noticed he was watching the park as well. It seemed you weren’t the only one who had noticed the peculiar scene.

“Ten after four,” Dean answered. “Why?”

“Look at the park,” you started. Dean came over to stand next to you and turned to the playground. “Where are all the kids?”

He grew just as curious as you and his brother. “School's out isn't it?”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “So where is everybody? This place should be crawling with kids right now.”

Sighing, Dean handed his coffee over to Sam without a word. You watched, confused for a moment, before he started towards the woman watching the little girl. You could only assume she was her mother.

“We’ll be right back,” you told Sam absentmindedly as you hurried after Dean to walk with him.

The woman was half watching her daughter, half reading the newspaper. Her daughter was playing, but with no one to join her, she didn’t seem as enthused as you guessed she normally would have been. It was as if the trip to the park was bittersweet.

“Sure is quiet out here,” Dean started, drawing the attention of the mother.

She looked up from her newspaper, a little startled at first. You watched her smell the air, catching Dean’s Alpha scent. Before she could react, however, she caught wind of your Omega which had her visibly relax.

“Yeah, it's a shame,” she noted, looking genuine.

“Why's that?” Dean asked.

She shrugged. “You know, kids getting sick, it's a terrible thing.”

Growing more concerned, you moved over to sit with her on the bench. “Kids? Are there a lot getting sick?”

“Just five or six but serious,” she started. “Hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching.”

As an Omega it was in your blood to be concerned about children. You’d always pictured having pups of your own, even if sometimes you knew it wasn’t a feasible thought with your lifestyle. Despite that, you always felt the need to care for and worry about kids. This news just didn’t sit right in your gut.

…

You offered the nurse a gentle smile as you set the basket of stuffed toys you’d brought to the hospital on the counter between the two of you. She paused, looking from you to the basket and then back.

“Can I help you?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “I heard about the children.”

One sniff and she knew you were an Omega, and that’s all it took.

Anyone who looked at you would see a concerned Omega, wanting nothing more than to help the families of the sick children. You weren’t pushing for information, or snooping around, you were simply concerned. It was in your nature to be so empathetic.

Smiling gently, she nodded. “The paediatric ward is down that hall, turn left and up the stairs.”

“Thank you.” Your smile had a hint of sadness to it as you gathered the basket and went to follow her directions.

As you rounded the corner, you looked back and spotted Sam and Dean walking into the hospital in their suits.

The plan was for you to talk to the families, while the brothers talked to the doctors. They were taking the roles as doctors from the CDC, which would get them access you wouldn’t normally have. It wasn’t common for a young Omega to have such a prestigious job.

Still, that didn’t mean you were without your own tools and skills.

…

Stepping towards one of the beds of the sick children, you placed a stuffed bear in the crook of the little girl’s arm. Looking down at her with sympathetic eyes, you felt your heart strings tug at the image of her laying there so still and pale.

“I’m so sorry about your daughters,” you started as you looked from one bed to the other before meeting the eyes of the girls’ father.

He was sitting by their beds, looking distraught and exhausted. He’d been here a few nights now, and with no sign of improvement or change, he was growing more and more fraught with each passing moment.

“That’s very kind of you.” He attempted a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Chewing on your lip, you moved over to the seat next to his and set the basket of toys- which was almost empty now- on the ground in front of you. With your hands now free, you reached out to take his gently.

He flinched at first, before your soothing Omega scent eased some of the tension in his body.

“I lost my family when I was young,” you started. “I may not have children, but I know what it feels like to feel helpless. I only wish you get a happier ending than I did.”

It was true. You did lose your family, your real family, when you were young. To be honest, you barely remembered them. With all the trauma and chaos that surrounded the events of your childhood, you couldn’t remember much of your life before monsters and Winchesters. But you still understood the pain of losing loved ones.

His hand squeezed yours. “Thank you.”

Offering a gentle smile once more, you began to pry ever so carefully, “Do you mind if I ask…?”

“How it happened?” he finished for you. “I don’t know. Mary, my oldest, she came down with it first. Then Bethany caught it the next night.”

“So suddenly?” you asked, trying not to show how shocked you were.

Diseases spread, you were aware, but they didn’t just put kids into comas so suddenly. He was suggesting there were no symptoms, no warnings, and now his daughters were 

When he nodded, you could see just how tired he was. You knew he’d been trying to wrap his head around the whole thing ever since his daughters had fallen ill. It was all he could do with himself as he waited for any sign of them waking up soon.

“The doctors are saying it's pneumonia. But it doesn’t make sense. They were fine. They were perfectly fine. They were healthy. They were happy.” Shaking his head, you looked from each bed, trying to wrap his head around it.

All you could think to do was to give his hand a squeeze, to try and ease his pain and offer any support you could.

The sound of someone clearing their throat had you both look up. Sam and Dean were standing in the doorway, watching the two of you before their eyes fell onto the girls’ father.

“Sir, we’re from the CDC,” Sam started. “We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions?”

When the father hesitated, you gave him a reassuring nod. “I’ll stay with your girls until you come back.”

Thankful that they wouldn’t be alone, he squeezed your hand gratefully before following the brothers out of the room, leaving you to watch his motionless girls as they lay soundlessly in their hospital beds.

…

The brothers had left you in the car while they went to Bethany and Mary’s house. The idea was that their father would be at the hospital for the foreseeable future, so they would snoop around. Normally you would go with them, but it had been your idea to stay behind this time.

If they got caught it meant you were no longer a player in the game either. At least if the father went home and found the brothers in his house, you could still go to the hospital and get some information.

Sam had been surprised at your thought process, and impressed. Dean was actually relieved, as if there was something particularly stressing him out with this case.

The passenger side door opened as Sam slid into the car, their excursion over with. “Have you heard of a shtriga?”

Your brows crinkled in confusion. “A what?”

Dean got into the car then, with a sigh. “Sammy and me found some stuff. We think it could be a shtriga.”

“Dean thinks it could be one,” Sam corrected.

“Well, whatever it is, we need to find a motel so we can do research,” you noted.

Nodding, agreeing with you, Dean turned Baby on and started down the road. Neither of you said much as he drove, but words didn’t need to be said. You could sense the tension in the air. Something was wrong with Dean.

She looked at me with tears in her eyes. “He used to sit on the roof.”

“We have to go,” I reminded her, hating that we really had to choose right now.

There was only slight hesitation before she ducked into the van, pulled out the fire extinguisher, and then ran to the gazebo.

Not wasting any time myself, knowing she was going to need help, I grabbed the other fire extinguisher and hurried after her. This was important to her, and therefore it was important to me. The hell we’d found ourselves did not mean we were going to lose everything. I wasn’t going to lose all of my son.

The fire extinguishers weren’t going to be enough to fight the flames, though. Before long, the fire grew, and walkers began to crowd us.

“Michonne!” I called out, warning her that one was getting far too close. “Michonne.”

Knowing we were fighting a losing battle, the two of us cut down the walkers in our way before making a break for it. Jumping into the van, we drove off, out the gates of Alexandria.

Our home. I’d wanted to start this fight with the Saviours to save what we’d had. I knew we were going to lose people and things on the way. I never imagined we’d lose as much as we had.

Carl had, though. He’d told me on the road after I shot in the air to scar Siddiq away at the gas station. He’d known things were only going to get worse.

“What do you think he meant?” I looked over at Michonne briefly before turning back to the road as I drove down it. Now that I was thinking about Carl I couldn’t stop. “Did he want us to stop fighting the Saviours? Just surrender to Negan?’

“We could pull over,” she suggested. “We could read what he wrote.”

I started shaking my head in response before she’d even finished. “No. Not yet. Not me.”

There was a pause as she looked at the letter in her lap before she froze. “Rick. He- Carl- he wrote a letter to Negan.”

My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I wasn’t sure what he might’ve written to Negan. I wasn’t sure if he was going to try and tell him the same thing he’d said to me. Maybe he wanted the Saviours to stop, too? No matter what he’d written, I wasn’t ready to read that, either.

“I need to talk to Jadis.”

“What?”

I nodded, seeing a new path form in my mind that could help us and our people. “They have weapons… people. We can't just give that up.”

“Why now?”

“They went with me to the Sanctuary. The Saviours saw us there. They're gonna be a target, too. We still need them. They're ours, not theirs.”

NPOV

“Hilltop is covered,” I assured Arat over the walkie.

I’d tasked her and a few others to find Rick’s people. There was no way I was letting them sneak away like they thought they had. We’d find them, and then there’d be hell to pay.

“The roads and then some. They are out there somewhere, so let's get balls deep in every nook and cranny they might hole up in.” The door opened as Simon stepped in. I lifted a hand to tell him to come in and stay quiet while I finished up on the walkie. “Nooks, crannies, and holes, people. All that shit outside the box.” Tossing the walkie onto the table, I turned to Simon as he paced at the other end. “Appears our friends at Alexandria had themselves an escape plan. Rick's little one-eyed pride and joy played me.” I scoffed, shaking my head, impressed. “Damn. That kid… that kid is built for this shit.”

He was something else. Both Grimes kids were. The way they fit in the world today was like nothing I’d ever seen. He was ruthless, smart, always thinking outside the box. She was just like him, but damaged. It gave them character. Made them useful. Made them lucky.

I knew when people were worth saving, and those two were it. Sure, I would still kill the people they loved to teach a lesson, but they had a get out of jail free card. I could use them, and I planned to do just that.

“Let me go out and close this thing,” he offered.

“Arat's got it for now.” He was tense, I could see it. Antsy. He wanted to be out there, doing something, but Simon was a loose cannon sometimes. I needed to keep him on a short leash. “How'd the Hilltop go?”

“As requested.”

“Good job.” I nodded. “With an extra attaboy on top given I know you didn't want to play it that way.”

Ignoring my comment, he went on, “You hear anything from Gavin?”

“Not yet. But it's coming. Gavin may be perpetually pissed off, but he keeps his shit dry and tight.”

He paced, hands on his hips. It was amusing seeing him so frustrated and agitated. “If I'm not running down Rick and company, where do you want me?”

Gesturing to the seat on my right, I waited for him to take a seat. “Garbage people.”

“Good. Eliminating those who reneged might leave us a tad short on ammo, but it's worth it.”

My jaw ticked as I clenched it, pissed that he still didn’t get the big picture. “I need you to hear me on this, Simon. Those piss-stained double-crossers may have pulled a triple-cross, but it doesn't change the fact that they are still a resource. So you're gonna choke back whatever shit is stirring up inside you and remind them that a deal with the Saviours is a lock, stock, suck my barrel deal. Deliver the standard message, take one out, and the rest will fall in line.” I gave him a pointed look. “Just one, Simon.”

He did not like the plan, and I’d expected just that. He was bloodthirsty. Always had been, and I had come to the realisation that he always would be. That didn’t mean I couldn’t trust him, it just meant I had to be very clear.

“If you've got something to say, say it,” I told him, giving him the metaphorical mic.

“Maybe we should cut our losses here,” he suggested tightly. “These people can't learn the lesson, no matter how many times we teach it. Alexandria, Hilltop, Kingdom, these garbage rats they're not seeming to understand the situation. Not one little bit. So maybe we learn our lesson. Scrape the plates into the trash. Move further out. Find other communities to… save.”

Again, I clenched my jaw as I watched him carefully. “Oh, I am doing my best to hold it together right now. You wanna cut your losses, take your own advice. Killing everybody to solve the problem that is the easy way, not our way. What we do, saving people, it is hard. But it damn well works.”

“Not lately,” he argued.

“Once I clip Rick,” I grinned, “everything's aces again, Simon.”

I believed in the plan, and I knew most of my people did, too. Rick was leading the war on me and the Saviours. He was the one taking charge, making decisions, calling out orders. Killing him would show the others that there was no hope, no reason, no winning. Killing Rick would show them that we were untouchable.

A knock on the door pulled our attention to it.

“Yeah?” I called.

Gary walked in, carrying a nail gun as he waited for two more men. They were carrying a large box, and by the sounds of it… there was a walker inside.

Simon and I stood as they placed the box on the table and then stepped back.

Eyeing the box, I stepped up to Gary. “What the hell is that?”

“A delivery from the Hilltop,” he explained. “I brought you something to deal with it.” He handed the nail gun over. “It's charged.”

“Out,” I ordered.

Once the door was closed Simon stepped up to the other end, a knife now in hand, before he began to pry the lid off the box.

“Little bit more.”

Doing as I said, he lifted the lid a bit more. The walker reached out and grabbed for me, but I simply pressed the nail gun to its head and pulled the trigger.

Simon got a good look at the walker then, and he was pissed. “That's Dean. That means the other ‘38’ that the Hilltop are holding are from the Satellite Outpost. Those are my people. I'm gonna kill every last one of those farmers!”

I tried to remain calm as I reminded him, “You will do exactly what I asked.”

“We can't let 'em get away with this shit.”

Having had enough of his bullshit, I snapped, “You will do your job!”

With a tight nod, he stormed out of the room. I had no doubt, despite how much he clearly hated the plan, he would do as he was told.

DPOV

We were hiding under a bridge, all of Alexandria hiding in the bushes and long grass. I’d taken the lead, knowing the rest of us who could do the job on a normal day weren’t up for it now.

Saviours were above us, listening to a message being sent on their walkies. They’d been up there for a while, unknowingly keeping us from continuing on our trek to Hilltop.

“Patrols, we got an Orange Situation. Dr. Carson and the priest. Might've split overnight, maybe this morning. Jeremy's green sedan is MIA, so could be in that. Go for standard search and cover in our perimeter around Hilltop. Eyeballs open.”

“Patrol Four copies,” one of the Saviours above responded to the message.

“C'mon, let's hurry it up,” another called to their group before the sound of them pilling into the car was followed by the sound of them driving off.

Once I was sure the coast was clear, I gestured for the others to come out of hiding.

“Best to stay off the roads, head into the woods right there,” I told them. “Come on. Go. Go.”

They all followed my orders, keeping low and sticking to bushes as they did so. The large group slipped into the tree line without a word.

Not even Vic made a sound.

She wasn’t speaking. She wasn’t even looking at anyone, or anything really. I could imagine the pain she was in. I’d lost my brother. I’d lost Merle. But Carl was different.

Carl had been a good man. He had been a good son and brother. He’d been a rock for Vic their whole lives. Those two… there was a bond between them that I hadn’t understood in the beginning, had then grown to envy, and then had become grateful for it. I’d always known that if I couldn’t be there for her, Carl would always be by his sister’s side.

Vic had been through so much already. She’d lost so much. Her home, her friends, her safety, ever herself sometimes. She’d lost her mum, and she’d lost this family she’d built several times over the years. Losing her brother was going to hurt her like nothing else had. It could break her, and that scared me.

“Daddy.” Aly came over to grab my hand, pulling my attention from her mother as we walked at the back of the group, watching everyone as we made our way through the woods. “Are Pop and Michonne going to meet us at Hilltop?”

When things got bad, Aly tended to refer to loved ones as their title rather than their names. Hearing her call Rick Pop made it clear that she was scared and hurting, which broke my heart.

I couldn’t show it, though. I had to be strong for her.

“They’re just gonna be a little behind us.” I nodded at her. “They’re just gonna make sure Carl is-” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. I didn’t know how to tell her what they were going to do without making it sound terrible.

“They’re gonna make sure he’s not hurting anymore,” she finished for me.

Looking back down at her, I met her gaze and had the wind knocked out of my lungs. She looked so mature and grownup. She understood what needed to be done, and she understood that I couldn’t say the words to her.

I nodded. “Yeah. They’re gonna make sure he ain’t hurtin’.”

The sound of a walker had our group scurrying away as it came out from some bushes. The children gathered behind adults, keeping safe. Others lifted the few weapons we had to defend themselves and those who couldn’t fight.

“I got it.” Tara stepped forward, pulling her knife out as she moved to deal with it.

“I'll cover you,” Dwight offered.

Instead of killing the walker, though, Tara threw it at Dwight.

“Tara!” Rosita yelled.

She shrugged. “What? It got away. He can handle it.” She watched as Dwight struggled to throw the walker to the ground before he stomped on its head, killing it. “See?”

“Hey. Just keep 'em moving,” I told all of them, gesturing forward.

Once again, they all listened as they continued walking.

Rosita turned to me once the others- including Aly- were far enough away that they couldn’t hear us. “Did you hear them talking on the walkie about Carson and Gabriel?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Probably heading to Hilltop, same as us.”

“Hopefully better than us,” she sighed.

The two of us started for the others then, making sure to catch up quickly. I couldn’t trust Tara wasn’t going to put her need for revenge before the needs of the others. No one else in the group could protect them, not in the state they were in. Not even Vickie.

Rosita and I needed to stay close if we were all going to make it to Hilltop together and in one piece.

RPOV

Michonne and I had walked through the unmanned doors to the place Jadis and her people call home. Honestly it was a dump, but it was theirs and they had it the way they wanted. There was no point in commenting, not when we had so much at risk, and they could be what helps us win this war.

Unfortunately, that assumption seemed to be wrong.

As we walked into the main, first, open area, junk from above the sea container that served as the entrance collapsed. The way out was blocked.

It was a trap.

The sound attracted dozens of walkers as they appeared to come from every way.

“Dammit.” I moved to get back-to-back with Michonne as we tried to find somewhere safe.

“Come on!” Grabbing my arm, she pulled me over to a mountain of garbage.

We fought our way through the crowd of walkers, pushing and killing anything that got in our way. When we reached the mountain, we started to climb, pulling things out of our way, and towards the walkers, so we could climb further, and they couldn’t follow.

As we made it to the top of the mountain, we looked down at the scrambling walkers. It was then that I realised they were all of the garbage people. There wasn’t a single stray walker down there. This wasn’t an accident. They’d been killed.

“Rick.”

Michonne and I turned and found Jadis sitting on the top of the mountain, stripped of her usual clothes and left in a dirty, flimsy, white night dress. Her feet were bare, her skin was dirty and sweaty. She looked nothing like the usual put together person we’d come to know as the look of her and her people. She looked a mess, frantic, and desperate.

“What happened here?” Michonne asked.

“The Saviours.”

It was pay back. I didn’t need to be told that to know what it was. They’d seen her and her people with me. They’d shot at us. Breaking a deal with the Saviours is a death sentence unless you’re prepared to fight. They were clearly unprepared.

Michonne didn’t make a comment or ask anymore questions about what had happened. There was only one thing that mattered now. “Well, how do we get out?”

The answer was simple. “Get out how you got in.”

We were going to have to fight through the walkers and dig through the junk in order to get out of here.

“These weren't heaps before,” Jadis went on. “It was just trash laid out, as far as the eye could see. I used to come here to find things to paint on. Metal sheets. Fabrics. And then after everything changed, I realised this whole place was a canvas. That we were the paint. We could create something new. We could become something new. We did. This was our world. Apart from everyone else. In every way.”

All her words meant nothing to me. She had double crossed us, caused the death of people, shot me, locked me up, screwed us over, and over, and over. If they had kept their word in the first place, then none of this would have happened. Our people would be safe and alive, and so would hers.

“You did this. This is because of you.” Turning my back on her, I grabbed a broken car door from the pile of crap.

Michonne watched as I bent the exterior detailing, so it stuck out. “What are you doing?”

“We're gonna run for it,” I explained, holding the door in front of me so that the bent handle could be used against the walkers.

Jadis stood, grabbing a broken chair to hold in front of herself. “Let me come with you. Just until they're gone.”

I didn’t even have to think about it. “Nah. I'm done with her games. She can't help us, anyway.” Turning my back on Jadis, I looked over at Michonne. “Come on.”

We started our decent then, heading down to the walkers as they continued to try and grab at us, and climb the mountain of trash. Using the door, I pushed back the walkers in front of us, while Michonne had her sword out, killing anything that reached for us from behind.

Getting closer to the exit, I held the door with one hand and pulled out my gun with the other to shoot a few of the walkers getting closer.

Michonne used her sword, covering the back of us as I cleared a path. Once we were close enough to the exit, I dropped the car door and started pulling things out of our way. Michonne was still behind, taking my hand once I offered it to help her into the shipping container that used to be the way into this community.

But the community was gone now. Now it was just a pile or rubbish and rubble, like it was intended to be.

“Wait!”

Just as I was about to leave, Jadis called out. I stopped and turned. She was no longer on the mountain of trash, now. She stood on the dirt, holding the broken chair she’d grabbed.

“Wait! Please!” she begged. “Just- just let me get out!”

I lifted my gun and aimed it at her, before directing it to the sky and taking a shot. The walkers descended on her then.

Whether she survived or not I didn’t know, and I didn’t care.

If she had kept her word in the first place, then none of this would have happened. Our people would be safe and alive. Carl would be safe and alive.

MPOV

I slammed the car door as it came to a stop at the Hilltop and stormed towards the prisoners. I’d barely slowed down before Gregory hurried to the fence as I stopped.

“Margaret, I- I understand you putting me in here. Message received, but - you know I don't belong in here.”

“Shut up.” I scanned the group of people we’d gathered inside. The Saviours.

“What happened out there?” Kal asked from behind me.

Instead of answering I pointed to one of the Saviours. “That one. Get him out.”

Gregory was in disbelief. “He gets out?”

“Maggie, what are you doing?”

I didn’t respond to Jesus as I watched as two of our people walked in and gathered the man I’d chosen. I remembered him. Tara had told me about him.

“Kal, I need your gun.” Once it was in my hand the Saviour stood in front of me. I glanced at Jesus. “This one tried to kill you.”

“Maggie, you don't wanna do this.” It was the Saviour who had thanked me for sparing them. He seemed to be the only one with his head screwed on, but that wasn’t going to save them.

“Shut up, Al!” the one in front of me snapped. “If Cupcake wants to put on a show, let her put on a show.”

Without warning, I lifted Kal’s gun, aimed, and fired. The Saviour in front of me was now dead on the ground.

My eyes landed on the one they called Al. “You wanna be next?”

He stepped back, shaking his head. “No, I don't.”

Lowering the gun, I turned to my people. “Saviours killed one of our own tonight on the road. We aren't even, but that was a start.

“Maggie-”

I cut Jesus off, “Get more guards on duty. Start fortifying the walls and bury Neil. First light, everybody else starts tending crops.”

“I thought we don't give up.”

“No, we don't. Simon said the others are under attack, which means there's no more supplies going in, but there might be people. We have to be ready. Gonna be up to Hilltop to make the last stand.”

…

After everyone was caught up on the plan and what had happened, I organised what to do with the body of the Saviour I’d killed.

It was put in the box. The one that had been meant for me, and then Neil. I’d lied though. He was never going to be buried in it. No, I’d always planned to use it to send a message.

Pulling back from the box, I looked down at the message I’d left on the nailed down lid.]

          We have 38 more. Stand down.

“Leave it where they'll find it,” I told Eduardo and Kal, trusting they’d know what to do, before I headed back inside. There was a lot more work to do… it was going to be a long night.

DPOV

Alexandria was on flames. Explosions were still going off as the Saviours destroyed the place we called home. I barely gave it a second glance, though. Vic was right, it was just a place and that meant it was replaceable. Right now I just needed to know our family was safe. Our people. Especially the kids.

Sliding open the manhole outside the gates, I grabbed a rock and dropped it into the sewers before pausing, listening for any walkers. Looking up, I shook my head as Vic.

“Okay,” she turned to Tara, “go.”

One by one, we all headed down into the underground tunnels. Tara first, then Rosita. Dwight apologised to Michonne as she stared wide eyed at our community and the flames.

“Go,” I grunted, grabbing Dwight and pushing him towards the manhole.

He did as he was told, heading down to join the others and find our people amongst the maze under our town.

Once Dwight was out of the way I started down the ladder after him, watching as Vic got ready to then follow me. She was just a few steps above when she suddenly paused.

“Michonne? What are you-”

The sound of the manhole closing cut her off.

“No!” She slammed her hand on the heavy cast-iron lid, but it didn’t budge as something heavy was dragged on top of it. “No! Michonne!” Panicked, on the verge of tears, she looked down at me. “She’s gone.”

RPOV

Our walls were down. Alexandria was on flames. I hadn’t seen a single soul. Things had gone bad, and no I had no idea where my people were. When my family was. My kids.

“Carl,” I whispered into the dark as I crept into our home from the back. “Judith. Alyssa.” There was no answer. “Victoria. Michonne.”

As I rounded the corner my gun was knocked out of my hands before I was kicked to the ground.

Negan stood over me. “This shit isn't funny anymore.” Stepping forward, he kicked at me again. I groaned at the pain, crawling back. “Don't make me do this now, Rick.” Leaning over me, he pulled my weapons out from my belt and threw them across the room. “I got plans for you. Cut you up in little bitty pieces, feed you to the dead, and make you watch.”

He pulled Lucille back, getting ready to swing. Moving quickly, I rolled out of the way before she came down on the ground where I’d been seconds before.

“Then, when you're some sort of screwed-up, creepy stump with a head,” he continued as I got to my feet, “that's when I'm gonna kill you.”

I didn’t get as much warning this time before he swung Lucille out again. She hit my stomach, knocking the wind out of me as I crumbled back down to the ground.

“In front of everybody.” He grinned down at me.

“You ever shut the hell up?” I groaned, using the dining table to pull myself to my feet.

“Nope!” He laughed, bringing the butt of his bat down on me. “You know your kid volunteered to die? What kind of boy you raise, Rick? I'm gonna fix him. 'Cause I like him. A few years, he's gonna be one of my top guys!”

He went to swing her again but I moved first, punching him the face first. He lowered Lucille, giving me a moment to get in a few more hits before he started to fight back. We were closely matched on a good day, but I was injured. Even still, I wasn’t going down easy.

Pulling back he pushed me away and into shelves that fell under the force of the shove, sending me to the ground with them.

Scoffing, he stepped forward. “When I am done with you, nobody will ever try to do what you did. Not ever again! Not your friends, not your son-”

Not shutting up was his downfall.

While he’d been going on and on with his speech, I’d been feeling around for a weapon. That how I managed to find and grab a paperweight. Getting a good grip on it, I swung around and hit him square in the jaw. He fell with a heavy thud, giving me time to get the upper hand.

Snatching Lucille from the ground, I leaned over him and used the butt of the bat and hit him over and over like he’d hit me.

“Don't you touch her!” he yelled before kicking out and pushing me away.

As I tried to regain my balance, he managed to get himself to his feet. I didn’t have a chance before he charged forward, sending us straight out the window.

This time I recovered first, and this time I didn’t fight. I ran. I needed to find my family.

…

Running between houses, trying to stay unnoticed, I kept any eye out for anyone who might be alive. At the same time I kept pressure on my ribs, trying not to think about how they might be broken again. Negan had done a number on me but I couldn’t let that stop me.

The sound of a commotion and a woman grunting had me turning a corner. It was Michonne, standing over a Saviour she no doubt took down.

“Michonne!” I ran to her, grabbing her arm. She jumped, ready to attack until she realised it was me.

Tears ran down her cheeks as I brought my hand up to cup her face. She looked broken and lost. I just hoped that wasn’t because we’d lost everyone. We couldn’t be the last ones left.

“Where are they?”

“Oh God.” She took a moment to catch her breath before grabbing my hand and leading me away.

…

We found our people. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing them huddled in the tunnels of our underground sewers. They were safe.

At least that’s what I first thought.

Looking down the tunnel, I could feel something was wrong. At the end I could see Daryl, holding Vickie to his chest as she buried her face against him. Somehow, they’d managed to get Houdini down here and now he was laying at the feet of Tara who held Judith in her arms while Aly held onto her leg, softly sobbing.

The explosions continued above us as I walked through the crowd, heading to the end of the tunnel. That’s where I found Carl.

He was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, pale as a ghost. Beside him knelt the guy I’d scared off before. It appeared as if he was taking care of Carl.

“I brought him here,” Carl started, drawing my attention back to him. “That's how it happened.” He pulled away the bandage on his side.

My throat tightened as I took in the wound. The bite mark.

I fell to my knees. “I-I don't-”

“Dad.”

“How-”

“Dad,” he cut me off, “it's all right. It's gotta be. I wasn't sure if you'd make it back before… but just in case, you know I wanted to make sure I was able to say goodbye.” He pulled some letters out from his pocket.

The explosions above us had me look up. My mind was reeling too much for me to really think, but all I knew was that I wanted to place the blame on something. On someone.

“It's them. It's them. They- they don't- it wasn't-”

“Carl.” Michonne was crying as she came to kneel on his other side.

Sobs had me looking up as I watched Vickie clinging to Daryl as he held. Her whole body shook as she fought to stay silent, not wanting to catch the attention of our enemies above.

Everything was wrong.

“No.” I shook my head. “No.”

Carl sighed, “I got bit. I was bringing someone back.” My attention turned to the newcomer, causing Carl to go on. “His name's Siddiq. We saw him at that gas station, before.” In shock, I looked back to my son. “It wasn't the Saviours. It just happened. I got bit.”

VPOV

The tears wouldn’t stop. I was quiet now as I stood with my husband, who was now holding our daughter. She was crying against him, understanding things without really knowing what was going on. She understood we were in danger, we were hiding, the bad people were destroying our homes and looking for us. She understood that Carl had been bitten.

I’d felt pain before. I’d felt a world of pain and more. Physical, mental, emotional, I’d felt so much… too much. But none of it felt like this.

Carl had been bitten. Carl was going to die, and then he was going to turn.

Michonne helped him on to the foldable bed he’d brought down for Siddiq, the guy he’d helped. “Is that better?” she asked.

Out of breath, Carl nodded as best as he could. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Siddiq stepped forward then, offering some medication. “I, um, I got these. They're over-the-counter, non-steroidal anti-inflammatories. They'll, um… they'll help a little with the fever. They did for my mum and dad. Please take them. Your son… he should have them.”

Dad stared at the pills. “You're a doctor?”

“I was a resident before. Yeah.”

“Your name is Siddiq?”

“Yes.”

Dad turned back to Carl. “Did you know he was a doctor? Is that why you brought him back?”

My heart broke even more. He was doing everything he could to rationalise why Carl would have put himself in danger. Why he would have snuck out to help someone who could have put everyone else at risk. Dad needed things to make sense in order to accept and understand as best as he could. Unfortunately, Carl didn’t have the answers Dad was expecting.

“He wasn't gonna make it alone. He needed us. That's why,” Carl explained.

Slowly, Dad nodded. “He was the one at the gas station.”

An explosion above us went off, shaking the tunnels. Carl erupted in a fit of coughs, sitting up quickly as he struggled to catch his breath.

I pushed away from Daryl, hurrying over to grab my brother. My baby brother.

“Careful.’ Gently, I set him back down as I looked over my shoulder. “Get me water.” Michonne was quick, handing me a bottle. “Thanks.” I offered her a gentle smile before turning back to Carl. “Sip this.”

“Easy.” Dad leaned in, watching Carl. “You got it? Slowly, slowly.”

The two of us were focused on Carl, trying our best to ignore the commotion above ground. It suddenly felt as if it wasn’t going to stop as more explosions went off.

Michonne pushed herself to her feet suddenly, storming over to Dwight. “Make it stop. Make them stop!”

He simply shook his head at her. “I can't.”

“You can,” she argued, shoving him against the wall. “You're one of them. They'll listen to you. Please. Please!” she begged.

“You said that Hilltop's safe, right?” Rosita asked, causing me to look over at her as she looked at Dwight.

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“We need to get everybody there.” Her eyes met mine. “We can get Carl there.”

“And they think all of you got away in the woods. They're out there, looking.”

Tara stood, agreeing with Rosita. “They saw us go west, so we won't go west.”

Dwight wasn’t seeing it, though. “Your best chance is to stay here until they're gone.”

“No.” Wiping away at my tears, I stood tall as I turned to my people. “Staying here means they can find us, and then we’re all dead. Heading to the Hilltop is our best bet.”

“They're almost done,” Dwight countered. “They gotta be. It wasn't about destroying the place. They don't have the ammo for that. After they let up, after they're gone, that's when we go.”

It wasn’t ideal. I knew I couldn’t be the only one wondering how much time we had before it would be too late to take Carl. But our options were limited, and as much as I wanted to protect my brother, I had to keep in mind that there were others that needed protecting, too.

Rosita shrugged. “Okay. We wait.”

“You sure going to Hilltop's the best plan?” Dwight asked.

“You got a better one?”

“All of you in one place, together…”

Daryl nodded. “All of us together… we'll be their worst damn nightmare.”

RPOV

I watched as Michonne took care of Carl. She watched him, like a mother. She never replaced Lori, but she was good to my kids. I knew this was hurting her, too.

“You left. You were supposed to be resting.”

Michonne smiled down at him. “I'm not tired.”

He chuckled lightly. “Yeah. You look great.”

I wiped away my tears as Vickie leaned her head against me while we sat on the ground against the wall. We were watching, unable to do anything other than wait.

Carl grew serious as he whispered something to Michonne I didn’t catch.

My attention was caught by Scott as he spoke up, “Sounds like they're letting up.”

It was only then that I realised the noises from above ground had lessened. They’d been drowned out by my reeling thoughts long ago as my brain tried to get a grasp on what was happening. I tried to think of a way to fix it all, but everything I considered I knew would fail.

There was no coming back from a bite from a walker.

Rosita nodded, looking up at the roof of the tunnel that stood just a couple of feet above us. “Looks like you were right. They're leaving.”

“Maybe.” Daryl turned to me. “Want me to go take a look?”

I nodded without saying a word.

He stepped up to Vickie and me, handing my granddaughter over to my daughter. He pressed a kiss to Vickie’s head and whispered something before heading down the tunnel to go check if the coast was really clear.

Turning back to Carl, I watched him, hoping we hadn’t left it too long.

VPOV

Daryl stepped up to me as I stood with Judith in my arms, rocking her back and forth. Aly was sitting by my feet, with Houdini, clutching her stuffed deer to her chest.

“They’re gone.”

I nodded, clutching my sister to me a little harder. Daryl took notice in the change, stepping closer to pull my head to his shoulder. My chest and throat ached from repressed tears. I couldn’t let myself cry anymore. I wouldn’t let myself.

“The Saviours are gone,” Michonne told Dad. “We can get everyone to Hilltop. We can get Carl there.”

“Carl?” Dad shook his head. “No.”

Something inside me broke.

“Daryl can get one of the cars,” Michonne suggested.

But Dad was adamant. “Carl won't make. He can't leave here. I have to stay with him.”

My grip on Judith slipped.

Daryl was quick to grab her as I reached for the wall to hold me up. I’d been holding onto the idea of taking Carl to the Hilltop. I wanted to make things easier for him. Give him pain meds, a soft bed, surround him with everyone he loved.

It couldn’t end like this. Not with him in the tunnels of the sewers under our fallen home. Not without everyone who cared for him.

“He can't.” Dad shook his head. “I have to stay.”

Understanding, Michonne nodded. “We'll both stay.”

Dad turned to me then. “Will you- will you take Judith? She needs to be there.”

A sob broke through my lips. “You can’t… you can’t ask me to do this,” I cried. “I can’t leave him. I can’t… I can’t-”

He grabbed me, keeping me from falling. “You have to go. You have to be there for your daughter. For Judith. If anything-” His voice broke. “If… happens-”

Daryl was next to us then, grabbing Dad’s shoulder with his free hand. “I'll take ‘em. I'll get ‘em there. I'll keep ‘em safe. I got this.”

“Let me say goodbye,” Carl voice croaked.

I watched as Daryl took Judith over to him, setting her right by the edge of Carl’s bed. Aly scurried over, grabbing Judith’s hand as Houdini whined where he lay.

Carl smiled at the two little girls. “You be good, okay?” His gaze focussed on our sister. “You be good for Michonne. For dad. You gotta honour him. Listen when he tells you stuff. You don't have to always. Sometimes, kids got to show their parents the way.”

Judith let out a sound that broke my heart all over again at the same time Aly wrapped her arms around my baby sister.

“You do me a favour?” Car started, making Aly pull back and look at him again. She nodded, wiping away tears with the back of her hand. “I need you to take care of your mum,” he told her. “Need to you make sure she’s okay. Cause I know she’s strong and tough, but… but sometimes she needs someone to be strong and tough for her. Think you can do that?”

Aly suddenly wrapped her arms around Carl’s neck as she cried. “I love you, Uncle Carl.”

That’s when I crumbled. I fell to the ground as I watched my daughter say goodbye to my brother.

When she pulled back, he took his hat off and gave it one last look over before putting it on Judith’s head. “This was dad's before it was mine. Now it's yours. I don't know… just- just having it and… it always kept Dad with me. It made me feel as strong as him. It helped me. Maybe it'll help you, too. Before Mum died, she told me that I was gonna beat this world. I didn't. But you will. I know you will.”

Judith started crying then, the sound echoing off the walls.

“Here we go.” Daryl picked her up and set her on his hip while he grabbed Aly’s hand with his free one. His set his eyes on my brother then, a sad but proud look in his eyes. “These people. You saved them all. That's all you, man.”

“Take care of my sisters.”

Daryl nodded. “I will. I promise.”

As Daryl stepped back, Carl then turned to me. Tears streamed down my face as I pushed myself up, only to drop by his bed. I looked down at him as he grew more and more pale and sickly by the minute.

“I feel like I failed you,” I cried. “You’re my baby brother. I’m supposed to protect you.”

“Can’t protect me forever.”

I met his gaze then. “You didn’t tell me. All day… you didn’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to worry you.” Grabbing my hand, he gave it a squeeze. “Everything else I said was true. Mum really would be proud of you. I know I am.”

The dam broke inside me as I wailed, my head dropping to his chest as I cried my heart out.

“Come on, Vic. We gotta go.” Daryl’s hand landed on my chest. “We gotta go.”

Tara and Sasha helped me to my feet, holding me as I grew limp, unable to stop crying. I didn’t fight as I was led away from my brother. I didn’t have it in me to struggle. All I could do was cry, knowing I was never going to see my brother again.

CPOV

Seeing Vickie broke my heart. Watching as she had to be practically carried out of the tunnels… it hurt worse than the disease eating away at me.

“You were helping me honour my Mum…”

I looked to Siddiq, fighting the urge to cry. “Not just yours. Mine, too.”

“You brought me here. You gave me a chance. I know I can never repay you. But I can honour you by showing your people, your f-friends, your- your family that what you did wasn't for nothing. That it mattered. That it- That it meant something. Because it did. So that's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna honour you, Carl.”

I reached out, offering him my hand. He took it, holding it carefully as I smiled up at him. “Congratulations. You're stuck with us.”

Whether anyone else liked it or not, he was now family. I was just happy he got to be part of mine before I died.

RPOV

Michonne and I were doing everything we could to make sure Carl was as comfortable as possible. It pained me, but I knew I had to stay strong for him. If I was being honest, the only thing getting me through it all was my shock.

I wanted to best for him. I always had and I always will.

Looking around the tunnels, I shook my head and turned to Michonne. “I need your help.”

“With what?”

“Getting him out of here.”

He might not be able to make it to the Hilltop, but I wasn’t letting him die in the sewers.

…

With one of Carl’s arms over my shoulders and his other over Michonne’s we carried him through Alexandria, trying to find any place we could set him down. I wanted to find a working car as we could get him away from the fire, but I had a feeling there weren’t going to be any left.

Instead, we’d take him home. He’d be more comfortable at home.

“We need to stop.”

“The house up ahead,” I grunted, moving as quickly but also as carefully as I could. We can make it.”

Carl shook his head. “It's okay. Just put me down here. It's okay.”

“No. We'll make it.”

“Please.” At the sound of him begging, I stopped.

He was in pain. He didn’t have much time left. As much as I wanted to take him home, I realised I needed to listen to him. He couldn’t make it, so I couldn’t force him.

“There.” Michonne gestured to the church.

It had mostly burned down but it was still standing. The flames had died, leaving it somewhat safe. While it wasn’t home, or comfortable, it was better than being in the sewers or out in the open.

With another grunt, I turned towards the church and started for it.

Once inside, Michonne and I took him to the alter and set him down on the ground where there was minimal dirt and rubble. We were gentle and careful, making sure we didn’t cause him anymore pain than he was already in.

“Thanks for- for getting me here,” he breathed heavily.

“I'm- I'm sorry. I-I just I didn't I didn't want you out there. I-I-”

“No. No for getting me here. For- For making it so I could be who- who I wound up.” He paused, looking away before meeting my gaze again. “Back at the prison when we got attacked… there was a kid, a little older than me. He had a gun. He was- He was starting to put it down, and I-I sh… I shot him. He was- He was giving it up, and I- I just I shot him. I think about him. What I did to him and how- how easy it was to just kill him.”

I shook my head. “Carl, no. No. What happened what you'd lost- all those things you had to- all those things you had to do. You- you- you- you were just- you were just a boy.”

“And you saw it. What it did… how- how easy it got,” he told me. “That's why you changed. Why you brought those people from Woodbury in. You brought them in, and we all lived together. We were enemies. You put away your gun. You did it so I could change, so I could be who I am now. What you did then… how you- how you stopped fighting… it was right. It still is. It can be like that again. You can still be like that again.”

He was wrong. “I can't be who I was. It's different now.”

“You can't kill all of 'em, Dad. There's gotta be something after. For you and for them. There's gotta be something after. I know you can't see it yet… how it could be. But I have. You have a beard. It's- It's bigger and greyer. Michonne's happy. Judith is older, and she's listening to the songs that I used to before. Vickie has a family of her own- kids of her own. Alexandria's bigger. There's- there's new houses, crops and people working. Everybody living helping everybody else live. If you can still be who you were that's how it could be. It could.”

“Carl. It was all for you. Right from the start. Back in Atlanta, the farm… everything I did, it was for you and Victoria. Then, at the prison, it was for you and your sisters. It still is. It's gonna be. And nothing, nothing is gonna change that.”

“I want this for you, Dad.”

He needed this. My son was dying in front of me, asking me for this one favour. It felt impossible, but it was his last wish. His dying wish.

“I'm gonna make it real, Carl.” I nodded, feeling tears fall from my face. “I promise. I'm gonna make it real.”

My boy. My baby boy…

“Carl I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. A father's job is to protect his son.”

“Love,” he corrected. “It's just to love.”

I watched as he then pulled out his gun. “No. No.”

Michonne could barely form a sentence as she cried, “Carl. It- It- It- It should be-”

He nodded. “I know. I know. Somebody you love. When you can't do it yourself. But I still can. I grew up. I have to do this. Me.” He cried then, looking up at her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He then turned to me. “I love you, dad.”

I choked on my sobs, looking down at my son as he held a gun to his head. “I love you, Carl. I love you so much. I'll make it real. I will. I will.”

Michonne helped me to my feet then, walking us away. She knew he wouldn’t want us to see this. Me to see this.

I stood outside on the porch of the church, when I heard the sound of his gun going off.

Carl was dead. My son. My boy. He was gone.

“That was 20 monks. Imagine what 10,000 web surfers could do. I mean Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard.” Sam pulled his computer out of his bag before starting it up.

“Now wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he's real?”

You shrugged, answering Dean’s question, “How do monsters happen? Maybe people just believe hard enough and then we’ve got bad guys under beds and in closets.”

Dean didn’t look convinced though. “People believe in Santa Claus. How come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?”

“Cuz you're a bad person.” Sam gave him a pointed look before turning his computer to Dean. “And because of this… That's a Tibetan spirit sigil. On the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the HellHounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai ... I mean I don't know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life.”

“It would explain why he keeps changing,” Dean agreed.

Wriggling again, Sam ignored whatever was annoying him as he went on, “Right, as the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work.”

“Yeah because he's not a traditional spirit.” Dean nodded. “Ok. So why don't we just...uhh ... get this spirit sigil thingie off the wall and off the website?”

Sam sighed, “Well it's not that simple. You see, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own.”

“Great. So if he really is a thought form, how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?”

“Well it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their homepage. Since they've posted the video their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone.”

“Hmph.” Dean considered things for a moment before he reached over and closed Sam’s laptop. “I got an idea. Come on.” His hand fell into yours, leading you up and off your chair as Sam gathered his things.

“Where we going?”

“We gotta find a copy store,” Dean answered, handing you your coffee from the table.

Groaning, Sam tried gathering his things as quickly as possible but he couldn’t stop fidgeting. “Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something.” It was then that Dean cracked a smirk and started laughing. Sam turned to him, unimpressed. “You did this? You're a friggin jerk!”

“Oh yeah,” Dean continued to chuckle as he led you away.

It seemed as if their games weren’t over just yet.

…

Dean stepped up to the trailer and paused a moment, looking back at you and Sam before he knocked on the door. There was a pause inside before someone called out.

“Who is it?”

“Come on out here guys, we hear you in there,” he called back to them. There was another pause before the door opened, revealing two guys. “Ah, would you look at that! Action figures in their original packaging. What a shock.”

You’d never met the ghost hunters Sam and Dean had told you about yet. You’d gathered they were nerdy and awkward… you also assumed they’d be Beta. You, of course, were right. But they were still males and once they spotted you, they paused whatever insults they’d been ready to throw at the brothers.

“Guys, we need to talk,” Sam started, ignoring the way they were staring at you.

The dark haired one slapped the other, murmuring something about the guys bringing a chick. The other swallowed around the thick nothing in his throat as he tried not to wobble on the spot.

Trying to save face, the one with glasses pretended to be brave as he shrugged. “Yeah, um, sorry guys. We're ahhh, a little bit busy right now,” he noted as he stepped out of the trailer.

“Ok well we'll make it quick. We need you to shut down your website,” Dean told them simply.

Glasses laughed. “Man, you know, these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell…”

“I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people. And I get stage fright,” the other added.

“Why should we trust you guys?”

Sam sighed, “Look guys. We all know what we saw last night, what's in the house. But now thanks to your website there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai.”

“That's right.” Dean nodded. “Which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person, somebody could get hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Glasses rolled his eyes.

The other one, however, looked uncertain. “Ed, maybe he's got a point, maybe...”

“Nope…” Clearly Glasses- Ed- ran the show. “We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth.”

“Well I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now-”

Lifting your hand, you pressed it against Dean’s chest to stop him. “Just forget about it, okay? I know you could toss them around like ragdolls, and I could tell them what I found out about Mordechai, but nothing we do will make them help us.” You sighed, “Let’s just go.”

The nerds were suddenly very intrigued.

“Whoa.. whoa…” Ed stepped towards you.

Dean ignored him, looking down at you with a shrug. “Yeah, you're right.”

As the three of you started towards Baby again, the two Betas followed, both of them fumbling over each other’s sentences.

“What you say about...?”

“Hang on a second here.”

“Wait...wait.”

“What thing about Mordechai you guys?”

Reaching the car, Dean reached for your door as he turned to you. “Don’t say anything, sweetheart.”

You paused and sighed, glancing over your shoulder at the Betas with your best sweet eyes. “But if they agree to shut the website down…

“They're not going to do it, you said so yourself,” Dean noted.

Ed stepped forward then, trying his best to look determined and trustworthy. “No wait. Wait. Don't listen to him ok? We'll do it. We'll do it.”

Chewing your lip, you pretended to consider it as you looked at the two of them. “Promise you’ll shut it down?” you asked, doe eyes in full effect.

“Totally,” Ed promised.

Smiling brightly at him, you reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the fake death certificate you and Sam had made together at the library earlier. “It's a death certificate,” you started. “From the '30s. We got it at the library.

“Now according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound,” Sam added.

Dean nodded. “That's right he didn't hang or cut himself.”

The one that wasn’t Ed looked shocked. “He shot himself?”

“Yep.” Sam nodded. “With a .45 pistol. To this day they say he's terrified of them.”

“Matter of fact they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds…” Dean paused for dramatic effect before adding, “it'll kill the son of a bitch.”

The three of you watched as the two Betas took the bait. Scurrying off with the fake birth certificate, they hurried back to their trailer, trying to remain cool but completely failing.

Just like that… the plan was in motion.

…

Sitting in a diner, munching on your shared fries with Dean, you watched as Sam reached up to turn off the mechanical fisherman hanging from the wall above your table.

“If you pull that string one more time I'm gonna kill you,” he warned his brother.

Moving fast, Dean pulled the string again, making the fisherman laugh. Sam snatched at the string, shutting it up.

Dean chuckled. “Come on man, you need more laughter in your life. You know you're way too tense.”

“Not too tense.” You grinned, plopping a fry in your mouth.

Dean looked from you to his brother and back, a smirk of his own forming. “You’re a little vixen.” Leaning in, he caught your lips in a kiss as the two of you grinned against each other, his teeth tugging on your lip before he pulled back. Sighing, he turned to Sam again. “They post it yet?”

Without words, Sam turned his computer around, showing you and Dean the new post about Mordechai and his ‘found’ death certificate. You were pretty pleased with the handiwork.

Dean shrugged. “We've learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdock has a fatal fear of firearms. All right. How long do we wait?”

“Long enough for the new story to spread, and the legend to change. I figure by nightfall iron rounds will work on the sucker,” Sam answered.

“Sweet.” Dean nodded, reaching for his beer. He took a swig and went to put it back down, but found his hand stuck to the bottle. His eyes grew wide, knowingly. “You didn't.”

Sam laughed, pulling out superglue from his pocket. “Oh, I did!”

“You two are impossible.” You rolled your eyes at them, but even you couldn’t help but admit that it was funny.

…

Sitting in Baby, a distance away from Mordechai’s house so you were safe, but close enough so you could see the house in the distance, you held your gun in your lap. The brothers felt better bringing you at night now that you could protect yourself with the gun. But they still didn’t want you in the house.

Watching the place, you waited with baited breath, hoping that they would simply walk out any second now with a job well done.

But the longer you waited… the worse you felt.

Gunshots went off, causing you to jump where you sat. You didn’t move, though. You’d been expecting the gunshots, it was the plan… what you weren’t expecting was the brothers to not leave the house right away.

Something was wrong.

Throwing the car door open, you didn’t bother closing it as you hurried for the house. Throwing the door open, you could hear noise from around the corner. It sounded like Sam struggling.

Moving as fast as your feet would let you, you ran around the corner and found Sam being held against the wall, with the hilt of an axe being dressed against his throat as an imposing man pressed it against his airway.

“Sam!” Lifting your gun, you aimed it at the man who you could only assume was Mordechai before you pulled the trigger.

Mordechai stumbled at the impact of the bullets, but nothing more happened. Letting Sam go, which had him drop to the floor, Mordechai then turned to you. His face pulled into a grin as your eyes went wide… you were in danger.

Stalking towards you with heavy feet, Mordechai lifted his axe and took aim. You flinched, ducking down quickly as he swung the axe. It landed in the rotting wood of the wall, getting stuck momentarily.

“Hey!”

Looking behind you, you spotted Dean with an aerosol can and his lighter at the ready. Scurrying out of the way, you hurried over to him as Mordechai pulled his axe free. He didn’t get the chance to use it, though, before Dean set the can alight, turning it into a flamethrower.

“Go go go!”

Sam hurried over to us, staying low, before he helped me to my feet. Dean was close behind as we all started for the front door.

“Mordechai can't leave the house, we can't kill him.” Dean shrugged. “We improvise.”

Lifting his lighter again, Dean then tossed it on the ground from the direction we’d come from. Flames engulfed the ground where he’d apparently poured something that was highly flammable. 

Then the three of you were running, hurrying out of the now burning house. Neither of you stopped until you were on the other side of the bushes.

“That's your solution?” Sam looked at his brother like he was insane. “Burn the whole damn place to the ground?”

“Well nobody will go in anymore. I mean look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty but it works,” Dean had a good point.

Sam didn’t look impressed. “Well what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?”

“Well…” Dean clearly hadn’t thought that over, but he hadn’t had the time to. “Well then we'll just have to come back.”

It was the best option there was.

…

Back at the trailer park, the three of you were waiting and watching as Ed and his friend- who you now knew was called Harry- started towards your little group. They were carrying supplies, clearly ready for a long road trip. There was a smug look about them, more smug than usual.

“Gentlemen, lady.” Ed nodded to the three of you.

“Hey guys.”

“Should we tell 'em?” Harry asked Ed.

Ed shrugged. “Hey, might as well, you know, they're going to read about it in the trades.”

With that being a good enough answer, Harry turned back to the rest of you. “So this morning we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer.”

“Oh yeah, wrong number?” Dean grinned.

Ed glared at him. “No, smart-ass. He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it.”

“And create the RPG,” Harry added.

“The what?”

You leaned closer to Dean to answer his question, “Role playing game.”

Looking more pleased with himself, Ed continued towards their car. “Anyhoo, ahhh, excuse us, we're off to la-la land.”

As we followed them, Sam spoke up, “Well congratulations guys. That sounds really great.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “That's awesome, best of luck to you.”

“Oh yeah, luck. That has nothing to do with it. It's about talent. Sheer unabashed talent.” Ed was so full of himself. “Later.”

The two of them piled into their car before driving off.

Watching them leave, Dean scoffed. “Wow.” Shaking his head, he started towards Baby. You followed, slipping your hand into his.

Sam wasn’t too far behind. “I have a confession to make.”

“Hmm?” You looked to your left as he fell into step with you and his brother.

Sam shrugged. “I, uh...I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer.” A sheepish grin found its way onto his lips.

Dean stopped in his tracks and laughed a full belly laugh. “Yeah well I'm the one who put the dead fish in their back seat.”

The two of them cracked up, laughing hard together. You couldn’t help but join them, agreeing that out of all the pranks they’d ever played, they were the two best ones.

“Truce?” Sam offered once you all calmed down.

“Yeah truce,” Dean agreed. “At least for the next 100 miles.”

Standing up I looked him up and down, getting ready to be on the defensive. "Wait. Did I- did I just get touched by... you're an angel, aren't you?"

"I'm Zachariah."

I groaned, "Oh, great. That's all I need is another one of you guys."

He smirked at my response, moving around to stand on my side of the desk in the office we stood in. "I'm hardly another one, Dean. I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here into one of these smelly things." He gestured to the body he was wearing. "But after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get my ducks in a row."

"I am not one of your ducks."

"Starting with your attitude," he added without missing a beat.

"Oh, so, what? This was all some sort of a lesson?" I gestured to the room, but was talking about everything I was remembering... though I wasn't sure if it had all been real or not. "Is that what you're telling me? Wow. Very creative."

"You should see my decoupage."

"Gross. No thank you." I frowned, genuinely grossed out, before going on. "So, what? I'm just hallucinating all this? Is that it?"

"Not at all." He shook his head, moving back to the other side of the desk. "Real place, real haunting. Just plunked you in the middle without the benefit of your memories."

The last thing I remembered was being in the hospital. I mean, I remember the rest, but it's like it wasn't me. Three weeks ago, I woke up in an apartment I knew, with a life I fully believed was my own. I had a new job, a family, things felt pretty great. I was a happy guy.

But then people started dying at work. Most of them were suicides. Things started to get a little weird- especially after I met Sam a couple of days ago. We'd been working here for the same amount of time, but while I was some fancy office guy, he was a cubicle worker bee. We knew nothing of each other, but still managed to become friends pretty quickly.

We figured out what was happening to all the people who were dying. We figure out who the ghost was and why they were here. We learnt how to kill it- which we did. We saved the day just like we did in our normal lives, despite the fact that we were one hundred percent clueless as to who we really were.

I shook my head at Zachariah. "Just to shake things up? Hm? So you guys can have fun watching us run around like ass clowns in monkey suits?" I snapped.

"To prove to you that the path you're on is truly in your blood. You're a hunter. Not because your dad made you, not because God called you back from hell, but because it is what you are. And you love it. You'll find your way to it in the dark every single time and you're miserable without it. Dean, let's be real here. You're good at this. You'll be successful. You will stop it."

"Stop what? The apocalypse, huh?" I asked, getting worked up. I just wanted an answer already. "Lucifer? What? Be specific, man."

"You'll do everything you're destined to do. All of it," he answered, without telling me what I actually wanted to know. Without telling me anything. "But I know, I know. You're not strong enough. You're scared. You got daddy issues. You can't do it. Right?"

"Angel or not, I will stab you in your face," I told him simply.

Ignoring me, he continued to speak. "All I'm saying is it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things." As I turned away he went on. "Save people, maybe even the world. All the while you drive a classic car and fornicate with women. This isn't a curse. It's a gift. So for God's sakes, Dean, quit whining about it." I turned back to him. "Look around. There are plenty of fates worse than yours. So are you with me? You wanna go steam yourself another latte? Or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?"

SPOV

I was still reeling from everything that had just happened. I'd quit working at Sandover, walked out the front doors, and was hit with the memories of my real life. Just like that, I knew who I was. Only problem was, I had no idea how I'd gotten where I was.

The first thing I did was turn back around and ran inside, heading for Dean's office, hoping he'd be there and that he remembered too. But as the doors of the elevator opened, I came face to face with him and knew he remembered everything as well.

We both left then, getting in the car he'd been using during the three weeks that we hadn't been ourselves. As he drove, he explained to me what had actually happened to us. How the angels had erased our memories to prove a point. Then they'd told Dean where we could find the Impala and all our stuff- which is where we were headed.

We found the car parked in the middle of a forest, a tarp thrown over her. Sure enough, everything of ours was inside. Nothing appeared to have been touched. Though our phones had been dead. Needing to make sure everyone was okay and that we hadn't missed anything, we headed for the nearest diner where we could grab some food and charge our phones.

"So, this Zachariah guy just dumped us in the middle of a murder ghost hot spot, hoping that we'd figure out how to save the day?" I asked.

Dean shrugged, spooning a mouthful of pie onto his fork. "I mean, you even said it. It's in our blood," he noted.

He had a point. Even with all our memories missing, I still felt like we were destined for more. After we ganked the ghost, it was like I just knew that's what we were made for...

I reached for my phone and turned it on. The moment the light flashed on, I was bombarded with dozens of missed calls and messages from Bobby. Frowning, I checked some of the voice mails, hearing the worry in his voice. With each one he seemed to get more and more panicked. Then I heard the last one...

"I don't know where you boys are, but I need you to get here now. Lizzie... there's something wrong with her. I don't know what to-" The line cut off.

Grabbing my charger, bag and wallet, I threw some money on the table as Dean watched me with a confused frown. He hadn't checked his phone yet and had no idea about the missed calls and messages I was sure he'd have as well.

"Where are you goin'? We just got here," he noted with a mouth full of food.

"We gotta go. It's Lizzie."

That's all I had to say. Hearing the urgency in my voice, and seeing the concerned look on my face. Dean knew this wasn't some joke. He could see how serious this was. If Lizzie was in danger, we had to go and help. She was family.

Leaving his pie, he grabbed a napkin and stood, wiping his face quickly before throwing the napkin back on the table as we both left the diner in a rush.

DPOV

I was a fast driver. Sometimes Sam would scold me for it. I knew there were times where I would be a little too reckless just for the sake of having some fun, and it annoyed him. But at that moment, as I pressed my foot down as hard as I could, he didn't say a word.

We both knew we needed to get to Bobby's as soon as possible. It was a bit of a drive, but I wasn't going to let that slow us down. If Liz needed us, then we'd be there.

It was at that point, as I sped down the many roads, making our way to Bobby's, that I really wanted to rip the angels a new one. If they hadn't taken our memories away for their own purposes then Sam and I might have been able to be there for Liz and Bobby sooner.

It's their fault. Son of a bitch.

I was getting more and more worked up, the more I thought about it. My grip on the wheel tightened as I pressed my foot down even more.

We couldn't get there soon enough.

...

I slammed on the brakes as soon as we were at Bobby's. Dust and dirt picked up around Baby like a cloud, but Sam and I just ignored it as we hurried out of the car and towards the front door. Our feet pounded on the wooden boards of the porch, each of us lifting a hand to knock on the door with panicked force.

A moment or two later, the door opened. Bobby stood there, genuinely surprised to see both of us. But at the same time, he was equally relieved and annoyed.

"Where the hell have you two been?" he asked as he stepped back so Sam and I could enter the house.

"Long story-"

I cut Sam off, wanting to skip the pleasantries and get to the point, "Where's Liz?"

Bobby looked to each of us, an unreadable expression on his face as he gave a short nod and started for the stairs to head to the second story. Sam and I were right behind, saying nothing as we followed.

As we walked down the hall, Bobby stopped at a door.

When I was younger, Bobby use to take care of Sammy and I. A lot of the times we'd stay here. At first the room had been empty. Just some boxes in a corner. But one day, when I went to go look inside, it was suddenly locked. Since then, the door had never been opened.

When I was younger I thought it was because there might be something dangerous in there. As I got older I lost interest. If Bobby didn't want us to see something then he must have a good reason. But now, as he raised his hand to the open the door, I was surprised to see it open without a creak. The movement so smooth and silent...

Stepping inside, I found myself looking around at the unfamiliar room. Forest green walls, wooden dresser and chest of drawers. Books lined the shelves on the walls. A mirror sat above a dresser, with some photos framing it. White lace curtains sat on either side of the window. A wooden double bed with dark grey sheets sat under the window, and tucked under those sheets and blankets was Liz, fast asleep.

Just like that, it clicked. Nothing dangerous had been hiding in the room. Nothing sinister or creepy or weird. It had been locked for her privacy. Even when she hadn't lived here, when she'd gone off to hunt on her own, Bobby had kept the room locked.

"Sam called to tell me you were in the hospital," Bobby started as the three of us watched Liz, "I was about to go see you when that angel friend of yours showed up in the middle of my living room, with Lizzie. Her clothes were covered in blood, but she didn't look hurt. I didn't have time to ask any questions. The angel was gone as quickly as he showed up. I was still going to see you, but wanted to make sure she was okay first." He shook his head. "Last I heard she was with her boyfriend."

My jaw tensed at the reminder of her boyfriend. The reminder of the fact that he'd been lying, that he wasn't a hunter. I hadn't told anyone, yet, but the moment I was sure Liz was okay, I'd find out who that asshole really is.

As I stood there, I wondered where he might be. Why had Castiel been with her? Where was Tristan? Had something happened? Had they been hunting and something went wrong? Had he done something to her? Were they still together? Was he even still alive? So many questions...

"Once I was sure she was okay, I ended up leaving. Lizzie wanted to stay and get cleaned up. I told her I wouldn't be too long. When I got to the hospital both of you were gone. I waited and looked around for a day or so, tried callin' both of you, but you were missing. So, I headed back home. When I got back things still seemed to be fine, but I wanted to make sure. Decided to keep an eye on her.

"Spent a week with her here. Things went back to fine. Eventually I got word of a case, had to leave for a couple of days. We talked on the phone while I was away, but I could tell things were getting worse again. I don't know what happened, but when I got home I found her on the bathroom floor, passed out. Managed to get her to bed, but she didn't wake up for hours."

"You know what's wrong?" I asked, my concern growing with each word he said.

"Got no idea." Bobby shook his head. "She has good days and bad days. Most of the time she's fine. But..."

When he didn't say anything, I pressed for him to go on, "But what, Bobby?"

"I'm really worried about her. I just... I don't know what to do, boys."

EPOV

As I opened my eyes, I flinched at the light streaming into my room. It was like looking directly at the sun, though I knew that was just my body reacting to the withdrawals. I knew everything that was happening was because of that. It had been three weeks since I had demon blood, which hadn't been much, not to keep the withdrawal symptoms at bay long enough.

"Here."

I hadn't even realised someone else was in the room.

Dean stood from the chair that had apparently been set by my bed while I was asleep. Reaching over, he pulled the curtains closed, giving me instant relief. As he sat back down, he watched me carefully.

We were silent for a moment, just looking at each other. I knew he wanted to ask me a million questions, and I wanted to answer all of them. But he wasn't sure where to start and I wasn't sure if I should tell him anything...

"Hey."

A small smile played on my lips. "Hi."

"How are you feeling? You need anything?"

"I'm fine. But I do need something..." Wincing and hissing in pain, I managed to sit myself up, ignoring every ache in my body and throb in my head. "I need to get out of here."

"Liz, I don't think-"

"It's not a good idea. I agree. But Dean, nothing is going to make me feel better. There's just bad, and worse. Staying here, having you, Bobby and Sam worrying about me, is just going to make things worse. Getting out there, finding a distraction, it's the best thing for me right now."

I wasn't sure if that was true, and if I'm being honest, the idea of moving from my bed was a horrible idea. But I did know that staying here was not going to help me find Tristan and kill the asshole.

Yes, you heard right. I wanted to go out there, hunt, and do whatever it takes to find the asshole who did this to me, and kill him. Slowly.

"We don't even have a case-"

As I reached over to the drawer in my bedside table, Dean fell silent. He watched while I pulled out some articles, passing them to him. "Possible haunting. Looks like an easy gank."

Without a word, he took the papers and looked over them. Sighing, he turned his gaze back to me. "What if I say no?"

I gave him a small and knowing smile. "You won't."

DPOV

It took some convincing to get Bobby to let Liz leave with Sam and me. While I'd been in her room, Sam had filed Bobby in on what had happened to us. I guess finding out that the angels could go the same thing at any moment... I mean I understood why he didn't want Liz to go with us. Also, her hunting in this condition was not a good idea, even I knew that.

Yet here we were, dressed in out FBI suits, headed for a comic book store to find out if they'd seen or heard anything related to ghosts.

"Look, I know you said you're feeling fine-"

"Which I am," Liz insisted as I went on.

"But just take it easy. Okay?"

"I'm fine, Dean. I swear," she sighed, clearly annoyed.

Hurrying ahead, she walked into the comic book store without Sam and me. My brother and I shared a look, shaking our heads as we walked into to join her, moving to stand by the counter to talk to the guy at the cashier.

He looked up at us, his eyes glued to Liz. Every pair of eyes were. It was like they'd never seen a chick in here before... which they probably hadn't.

"Uh... can I help you?" the guy behind the counter asked.

"Sure hope so," I started as Sam, Liz and I pulled out our badges. "Agents DeYoung, Shaw and Gowen. Just need to ask you a few questions."

"Notice anything strange in the building, last couple of days?" Sam asked.

The guy looked confused. "Like what?"

"Well, some other tenants reported flickering lights," I noted.

"Uh, I don't think so. Why?"

"Have you heard any noises?" Liz questioned. "Skittering in the walls? Kind of like rats?"

The guy's confusion grew into scepticism. "And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?"

Ignoring his snark, Sam went on. "What about cold spots? Feel any sudden drops in temperature?"

Slowly, as if realising something, the guy began to grin. "I knew it! You guys are LARPing, aren't you?"

It was my turn to frown, confused. "Excuse me?"

"You're fans."

"Fans of what?" Sam asked, equally confused.

"What is 'LARPing'?" I looked to Liz. "Do you know what 'LARPing' is?"

Before she could say anything, the guy behind the counter scoffed. "Like you don't know." But when we all continued to look at him with silent confusion, he explained what it was, "Live-Action Role-Play! And pretty hardcore, too."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're asking questions like the building's haunted. Like those guys and that chick from the books. What are they called? Uh... Supernatural. Two guys and a girl, use fake IDs with rock aliases, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires. What are their names? Uh... Steve, Dirk and Lexi...? Uh, Sal, Dane and Lilly...?"

Sam glanced at Liz and I for a moment before suggesting, "Sam, Dean, and Lizzie?"

The guy nodded enthusiastically. "That's it!"

"You're saying this is a book?" This was weirding me out and not helping with the confusion...

"Books," the guy corrected. "It was a series. Didn't sell a lot of copies, though. Kind of had more of an underground cult following." Getting up, he moved around the counter and towards a table labelled 'Bargain Bin'. Sam, Liz and I followed, tense and unsure. "Let's see. Um... ah. Yeah." He grabbed a book and handed it over to me. "That's the first one, I think."

I looked at the cover of the book- which had an illustration of a topless guy holding a shot gun, and a guy carrying a bag of salt, standing by what looked like the Impala. "'Supernatural' by Carver Edlund." Turning it over, I read the blurb out loud. "'Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures men to their deaths'."

"Give me that." Sam snatched the book from my hands to take a look. After a quick scan, he looked up at the guy. "We're gonna need all the copies of 'Supernatural' you've got."

EPOV

I sat on the couch in the hotel room I was sharing with Sam and Dean. Sam was on the computer at the table, doing some research. Dean was on his bed while I was on the couch, the two of us reading the books we'd gotten from the comic bookstore. At first, I thought it was amusing, reading Sam and Dean's lives... But when I showed up in the books, things got less funny. I felt very violated.

"This is freakin' insane," Dean suddenly spoke up, clear annoyed. "How'd this guy know all this stuff?"

Sam shrugged. "You got me."

"Everything is in here," Dean noted, flicking through one of the books. "I mean everything. From the racist truck to… to me having sex. I'm full-frontal in here, dude."

"I am too," I added.

Dean sat up and turned to me. "You are?" He sounded both pissed and interested. As if he wanted to read to but he didn't like the idea of other's reading it.

"Yep," I sighed, tossing him the book I'd been reading, as I got up and moved to sit at the table with Sam. "Like you said, everything is in these books." Even things the guys didn't know about…

Dean- holding he book I'd tossed him- stood and moved over to join Sam and me. "How come we haven't heard of them before?"

"They're pretty obscure," Sam noted. "I mean, almost zero circulation. Uh… started in '05. The publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And, uh, the last one, No Rest for The Wicked," he turned the laptop towards Dean and me, showing us a list of the books, "ends with you going to hell," he told Dean.

"I reiterate. Freaking insane," Dean mumbled as he started to scroll through the page. "Check it out. There's actually fans. There's not many of them, but still. Did you read this?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded. He didn't seem as excited as Dean suddenly was.

"Although for fans, they sure do complain a lot. Listen to this. Simpatico says 'the demon story line is trite, clichéd, and overall craptastic'," Dean read. "Yeah, well, screw you, Simpatico. We lived it."

"Yeah. Well, keep on reading." Sam gestured to the laptop. "It gets better."

"There are 'Sam girls' and 'Dean girls' and..." Dean's brows furrowed. "What's a 'slash fan'?"

"As in... Sam-slash-Dean," Sam answered, a look of discomfort and disgust on his face. "Together."

"Like, 'together', together?" Dean asked, equally grossed out.

"Wait, what?" Grabbing the laptop, I took a look, cringing at the words before me. "Okay, gross..."

"Yeah," Sam sighed.

"They do know we're brothers, right?" Dean asked, genuinely disturb.

"Doesn't seem to matter," Sam noted.

"Oh, come on. That... that's just sick." Dean shut the laptop in disgust.

"They even have 'Sambeth girls' and 'Dizzie girls'." when Dean and I looked at Sam confused, but also afraid of what that meant, he explained. "Sambeth is a mix of Sam and Elizabeth. Dizzie, Dean and Lizzie. And then there's... 'Dean, Lizzie and Sam girls'."

I looked to both brothers, eyes going wide. "You mean... together? All three of us?"

Dean shook his head. "We got to find this Carver Edlund."

Sam sighed again. "Yeah, that might not be so easy."

"Why not?" Dean and I asked at the same time.

"No tax records, no known address," Sam answered, shifting in his seat to lean forward a bit more. "Looks like 'Carver Edlund' is a pen name."

Dean shook his head. "Somebody's gotta know who he is."

Slowly, I nodded. “Yeah. That sounds good.” Though by the lack of enthusiasm in my tone, it was obvious nothing was good.

“Angela,” he sighed. “I know you’re worried, but there’s nothing we can do until we hear from Scott and Stiles.”

“I know.” I looked behind my, meeting his eyes again. “Just… thinking about Erica and Boyd… I can’t help but wonder what they’ve been through the last few months. What are they doing to them? Why are they doing it?”

“I don’t know.” He brushed my hair away from my shoulder. “But I know we’re not going to stress about it. Not right now, at least.”

“Easier said than done, Derek.” Tossing the sheets off me, I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and pulled myself to my feet.

Reaching for the ground, I grabbed Derek’s shirt and pulled it on before walking over to the dining table. The shirt was more like a dress on me, long enough to cover everything that needed covering. Isaac was still around, and the last thing I needed was for him to see me half naked- not that it would be the first time…

Grabbing one of the books off the table, I started to flick through it, skimming the words, trying to find something useful.

Sighing, Derek pulled himself up and grabbed his pants, tugging them on. Reaching for the bedside table, he pulled something out of its top drawer, and shoved it into the pocket of his sweats, before he started towards me. Reaching for the book, he closed and set it back on the table. We’d been through the books a few times now, they weren’t going to help us.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately.”

“You’ve had a lot on your plate,” I shrugged, “I get it.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” he countered. “I missed out on your graduation, your college orientation, your interview the other day… your birthday.”

During the last four months, I’d turned nineteen. There was no big party or anything. I did the same thing I did every year. Dinner with Scott, Stiles and mum. Then she went to work while the guys and I hung out. I never made a big deal about it. Derek not being there was okay considering what he’d been dealing with.

“I didn’t get the chance to give you anything.”

Turning in his arms, I offered a small reassuring smile. “You didn’t have to. I don’t need anything, Derek.”

“I know, but I still wanted to get you something.” He looked down as he reached into the pocket of his sweats. “Which is why I got you this.”

He pulled out a small black box. A small black jewellery box.

My eyes went wide. I was speechless. I hadn’t been expecting this. I hadn’t been expecting anything.

Slowly, he opened the box. Inside sat a beautiful, this gold chain with a stone pendant- a little smaller than a penny- hanging from it. The stone was gorgeous, a kind of pearly white colour, shiny, smooth… it looked like a full moon…

“A moonstone.” This time when I smiled it was more genuine.

Derek pulled the necklace out of the box and moved around me. I pulled my hair up and out of the way as he clipped the piece into place. He didn’t say anything, he just let his fingers lightly brush my skin, his touch speaking a thousand words.

Once it was in place, I turned so I could face him again before leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I love it. Thank you.”

He smiled in return, leaning down to kiss me again.

…

All day, Derek and I had stayed in. Just the two of us. Turns out we’d been right last night when we said Isaac was still recovering, because he didn’t get up once. I’d gotten a little worried and went up to check on him, but he seemed to be okay, so I left him and went back to Derek.

We spent most of the day just hanging out. I was going through one of the textbooks for college, while he surfed the net in the hopes of getting answers before Scott and Stiles finished school for the day. The longer the day dragged on the harder it was to ignore what we were going to do later that night.

Eventually I convinced him to go out and get some food, or coffees, anything, it didn’t matter. I just needed him to find a distraction, even if it was for just a moment or so.

I was sitting on the couch, still flicking through my textbook, when a distinctive scent hit my nose. Looking up with a groan, I prayed my senses were wrong, even though I knew they weren’t. A few seconds later the door was pulled open.

Peter stepped in, smirking in my direction.

Rolling my eyes, I turned back to my book. “Derek’s not here.”

“Who said I was here to see Derek?” He closed the door behind him before starting towards the couch.

I shrugged. “Well, no one else here has the time or energy to deal with your annoying ass. Go away.”

“Now, now, Angela, is that anyway to talk to a friend?”

“We’re not friends, Peter,” I countered.

He dropped onto the couch, next to me, so close we were almost touching. “We could be. I for one would love to be your friend.”

Shifting away from him, I shook my head once. “No thank you.”

“You know, I’m not that bad once you get to know me.”

Sighing, I closed my book and turned to him. “Peter, we’re never going to be friends. So, stop trying.” Pulling myself up, I started for the hallway, headed for the bathroom to get away from him.

…

Night had fallen a little while ago. The full moon was fast approaching now, we were running out of time.

Scott and Stiles had come over as soon as they could, bringing files, documents, maps and blueprints with them. They’d brought anything that could help us with the bank. The two of them now stood with Derek and I around the dining table in Derek’s loft, while Peter sat on the winding stairs, listening to the plan.

“Okay. You see this?” Stiles gestured to the blueprints of the bank that were laid but on Derek’s dining table. “This is how they got in. It's a rooftop air conditioning vent. Leads down inside into the wall of the vault, which is here.” He drew a red circle around it. “Okay?

“One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft. Now, that space is so small, it took him about 12 hours to drill into that wall, which is stone, by the way. Then throughout the rest of the night, they siphoned the cash up to the guys back on the roof through that one little shaft in the wall. Boom.”

Scott leaned forward to look at the space Stiles was talking about. “Can we fit in there?” He didn’t very hopeful.

“Yes, we can, but very, very barely,” Stiles noted. “And they also patched the wall, obviously, so we're gonna need a drill of some kind. I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit-”

Derek cut him off, “Look, forget the drill.”

A little annoyed, Stiles turned to him. “Sorry?

“If I go in first, how much space do I have?” Derek asked, still looking down at the drawings.

Shaking his head, Stiles gave Scott and I an exasperated look before turning back to the Alpha. “What do you what do you think you're gonna do, Derek? You gonna punch through the wall?”

Folding his arms over his chest, Derek turned to him with a sighed. “Yes, Stiles, I'm gonna punch through the wall.”

“Okay, okay, big guy. Let's see it.” Stiles gestured to Derek’s hand. “Let's see that fist. Big, ol’ fist. Make it, come on. Get it out there. Don't be scared. Big, bad wolf. Yeah, look at that.”

Derek lifted his fist, looking to Peter with a knowing and impatient glare. Peter shook his head, chuckling lightly.

“Okay, see this?” Grabbing Derek’s wrist with one hand, Stiles held up his other in front of it. “That's maybe 3 inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid co-”

Derek pushed his fist forward and punched Stiles’ hand.

Stiles stumbled back from the force. “Ah! Ah! He could do it.”

I gave Derek a disapproving look. “Was that really necessary?”

“Yes,” he answered simply, moving to leaning his hands on the table. “I'll get through the wall. Who's following me down?” His eyes turned to Peter again.

Peter shook his head. “Don't look at me. I'm not up to fighting speed yet, and honestly, with Isaac out of commission, you're not looking at very good odds for yourself.”

“What, is he just supposed to leave them? Let them die?” I glared at Peter.

“One of them is already dead,” he countered.

“We don't know that,” Derek insisted.

“Do I have to remind you what we're up against here?” Peter looked to each of us. “A pack of Alphas. All of them, killers. And if that's not enough to scare your testicles back into your stomach, try to remember that two of them combine bodies to form one giant Alpha.” He sighed, looking away in mock sympathy. “I'm sure Erica and Boyd were sweet kids. They're gonna be missed.”

“Could someone kill him again, please?” Stiles asked.

“This is why we don’t like you, Peter,” I added.

Shaking his head at me, Peter than turned to his nephew. “Derek, seriously? Not worth the risk.”

Ignoring him, Derek turned to the rest of us. “What about you?”

Stiles shrugged. “Yeah, if you want me to come-”

Rolling his eyes, Derek cut him off again, “Not you.”

“Scott and Angela?” Stiles gestured to us.

“Yes, us.” I grinned at him.

Nodding, he stepped aside a little.

Scott shrugged. “I don't know about Erica. But if Boyd's still alive, we have to do something. We have to try.”

“But?” Derek pressed.

“Who's the other girl? The one locked in there with Boyd?” Scott asked.

“I don’t care who she is. They need our help, that’s all that matters,” I noted. “So, are we going, or not?”

Derek nodded, moving to leave, but he only managed to turn and take two steps before Peter spoke up, stopping him in his tracks.

“Do you really think taking Angela is a great idea?” Peter asked, not looking at any of us, his eyes set on the night sky outside.

Folding my arms over my chest, I glared at him again. “And why wouldn’t it be?”

“Full moon, pack of Alphas, and the chance of you getting your heat…” he turned to give Derek a pointed look, “it’s a recipe for disaster.”

Derek sighed, head falling and eyes closing as if he hated what he was going to say next. “He’s right.”

Looking from Derek to Peter, glaring lightly, I then turned back to Derek, shaking my head. “No, he’s not. We don’t even know if I’ll get my heat tonight. Or ever. I haven’t had it for four months. I might not get it again.”

“We can’t risk it.” Stepping up to me, Derek brushed my hair over my shoulder as his eyes met mine. He gave me that look, the one where his gaze softened, like nothing else mattered but me. That look that made me melt. “I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe here.”

“With Peter?” I pointed out, fighting the urge to give into his look.

“Hey, I’ll be here too,” Stiles assured me.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “and so will Peter.” I gestured to the older werewolf before looking back at Derek yet again. “You really want me here with him when there’s a chance I might get my heat? You trust him enough to do that?”

“I’m right here, you know,” Peter called.

Still choosing to ignore his uncle, Derek continued to focus on me. “I trust you enough to leave you here with him.” Leaning down, he pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “I’ll call you once we’re out of there.”

Just like that, he pulled away, turned and headed for the door. Scott was right behind him, offering an apologetic glance before the two of the walked out of the loft, closing the door behind them.

…

Much like Isaac had yesterday morning before Peter had come, Stiles was now pacing in front of the loft window. Chewing on his nail, looking up at the rising full moon, he fidgeted with nerves. “I can't take waiting around like this, you know? It's nerve-racking. My nerves are racked. They're severely racked,” he exclaimed. “Racked.”

“I could beat you unconscious and wake you when it's over,” Peter offered from where he sat on the couch, legs stretched out onto the coffee table, head resting back as he closed his eyes.

I glared at him from where I sat on Derek’s bed, legs folded underneath me. “Don’t be an asshole,” I told him as I fiddled with my necklace.

He opened one eye and looked at me as he cracked a grin. “I can’t help it.”

“You think Erica's really dead?” Stiles suddenly asked as he stopped moving for a moment.

“You think I really care?” Peter countered.

I shook my head, trying to ignore the jack-ass werewolf as I focused on my best friend. “I don’t know. But I hope not.”

Stiles nodded at my answer, pacing again. “I just I don't understand the bank, though, okay? Like, why wouldn't they chain them up in some underground lair or something? They're an Alpha pack, right? So shouldn't they have a lair?

“They're werewolves, not bond villains,” Peter countered.

“Wait a sec.” Stiles seemed to have an idea. “Wait a sec. Maybe they're living there. You know? Like, maybe the bank vault reminds them of their little wolf dens.”

I couldn’t help but smile a little at his naivety.

“Wolf dens?” Peter asked, eyes still closed.

“Yeah, wolf dens.” Stiles nodded as if it was that simple. “Where do you live?”

Opening his eyes, lifting his head from the back of the couch as he looked to Stiles, Peter answered, “In an underground network of caves hidden deep in the woods.”

“Whoa, really?” Stiles was impressed.

“He’s joking, Stiles,” I noted, shaking my head a little, still smiling lightly.

“Idiot.” Peter leaned back and closed his eyes again, clasping his hands together and resting them in his lap. “I have an apartment downtown.”

“Okay, fine,” Stiles shrugged, “but still, that just proves that there's something up with the bank. And why wait around for the full moon, huh? Why not just kill them whenever they want to?”

“Maybe they think it's poetic,” Peter suggested a little sarcastically.

“They've already had three full moons to be poetic,” Stiles countered.

“And here you've only had one full hour to be so annoy-” Peter cut himself short, sitting upright.

“No, go ahead, finish what you were saying,” Stiles pressed. “I'm an… I'm annoy… what were you gonna say there?” He clearly couldn’t see the concerned look on Peter’s face, but I could.

Unfolding my legs, I stood from the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“What are the walls made of?” Peter asked, getting up as well.

“What?” Stiles was confused at first, but he just shrugged, looking around the room to give an answer. “Uh… I don't know, like, wood and brick or-”

Moving to the dining table, Peter cut him off, “No, the vault. The vault, the walls, what are they made out of?” He started going through the documents on the table. “Where would it say that? Doesn't say anything.” Frustrated, he turned to Stiles. “Where… where would it say the materials, the type of stone?”

“Oh. Oh, hang on.” Stiles hurried to his bag. “Yeah, here, hang on. Here.” He pulled out a large file, handing it to Peter. “It's gotta be in there.”

I walked over, standing next to Peter as he began to flick through the papers. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know yet,” he mumbled, skimming the pages. “But if I’m right… Scott and Derek are heading straight for a trap.”

That had to be the worst thing you could ever say to me. Hearing that there’s a chance my brother and boyfriend might be walking into a trap made my stomach drop and heart stop.

Two of the most important people in my life were possibly in danger, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was stuck here, useless. They could be in danger, right not, with no help and no idea what they might be walking into,

“There, that's it.” Peter pointed to one of the pages.

Stiles and I leaned closer on either side of the Beta, looking at the word he was pointing at.

“’Hecatolite’,” I read aloud.

“Is that awful?” Stiles asked. “That sounds awful.”

Pulling away from the document, Peter turned to me. “Get 'em on the phone. Call them. You call Derek.” He turned to Stiles. “You call Scott. Now!”

Jumping at the urgency of his tone, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and started to dial Derek’s number.

“Okay, why?” Stiles asked as he pulled out his phone.

“'Cause Boyd and that girl aren't gonna kill each other,” Peter explained. “They're gonna kill Derek and Scott.”

…

They hadn’t answered right away. It took a couple of tries before Scott answered Stiles’ call- which he then put on loudspeaker so Peter and I could listen as well. I was relieved at first, until I heard the tone of Scott’s voice.

“Stiles, now is not the best time,” he noted, sounding as if he was going to hang up.

“Scott!” Stiles called out quickly, stopping him. “Scott! No, listen to me, okay? Look, you gotta get outta there. Look, the walls of the vault are made with a mineral called hecatolite. It scatters the moonlight.”

“What does that mean?” Scott asked, having no idea what Stiles was talking about.

“We're here to get you out, okay?” I heard Derek in the background.

“Look, it keeps the moonlight out, okay? They haven't felt the full moon in months,” Stiles explained.

“Think of it like the gladiators in the Roman colosseum,” Peter elaborated for him. “They used to starve the lions for three days, making them more vicious, more out of control. Deucalion has kept them from shifting for three full moons, diminishing their tolerance to it.”

“Scott, they’re gonna be a lot strong and faster than usual,” I added.

“More savage, more bloodthirsty…” Peter shook his head. “Scott, they're the lions. They're the starved lions, and you and Derek just stepped into the colosseum.”

“Derek, we got a problem, a really big problem.”

But instead of responding to Scott, something else must have caught Derek’s attention. “Cora?”

“Who?” Scott asked.

“Cora?” Derek repeated.

“Derek, get out,” a girl spoke up, her voice strained as if she was trying to hold back. “Get out now!”

When no one else spoke, Stiles called out into the phone. “Scott? Hey, Scott! Scott!”

“No.” Scott’s voice came through, but he wasn’t talking to us. “No! Wait!”

The sound of wild werewolves growling and roaring echoed through the phone, followed by the sound of a fight.

I snatched the phone from Stiles. “Scott? Derek? Guys, are you there?!” My heart raced as the sound of the fight got worse and worse. “Guys?!”

The line went dead.

Quickly turning, I started for the door without a word.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Peter hurried after me, grabbing my arm to pull me to a stop.

I spun on my heels to glare to him. “I’m going to help them!”

“Derek would want you to stay here,” he argued, grip on my arm tightening.

“Derek is my boyfriend. Not my keeper. Not my Alpha.” Flashing my golden yellow eyes at him as I gave a low and warning growl, I snapped my arm out of his grasp. “I’m going.”

“Me too.” We all turned to see Isaac standing halfway down the stairs. “They’re gonna need all the help they can get.”

I couldn’t remember the last time things had been this quiet, this easy. Even when Daryl and I had our moments, when we allowed ourselves to get intimate and just enjoy each other while we could, things were never like this.

It wasn’t going to last, so I was going to enjoy it for as long as I could.

“Daddy!”

Aly’s voice had me sitting up on my elbows as I watched Daryl head towards us. My mood shifted in an instant.

Pulling myself up, I told Aly to wait with Judith while I headed over to my husband, meeting him halfway.

“You left.”

He nodded, chewing his lip. “Yep.”

“You went to the Sanctuary.”

“Yep.”

“Without me.”

“Couldn’t take you with me. Couldn’t risk it.”

“So you can risk yourself but not me?” I shook my head at him. “What happened to ‘Where you go, I go’?” When he didn’t respond right away, I stepped closer. “Daryl… is it ‘cause you don’t trust me.”

That got his attention.

He stopped chewing his lip as he met my gaze and held it. “I trust you, Vic. Aint trust no one like I trust you.”

“Then why did you go? Why… why did you leave me?” I felt my voice break a little as tears began to brim my eyes. “I was alone and I didn’t know if you were gonna come back, and I thought… I thought if you died out there, today, without me, you’d die hating me.”

Suddenly he was pulling me to his chest, holding me to him. I cried, letting out only a bit of the stress and emotions I’d been bottling up for far too long now.

“Never hate you, Vic.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Just did what I thought I had to. Had to protect you from that place. From those people.”

He didn’t have to say it, but we both knew there was only one person he wanted to protect me from. Negan.

“Won’t do it again. I promise. Won’t leave you again.”

I nodded against him, letting him hold me close as I cried a little more.

CPOV

I thought it would be safe when night fell. I thought I could sneak into the underground sewer tunnels to check on Siddiq. I thought I would go unnoticed. No one ever noticed when I snuck over the fence, so why should this be any different?

I’d been wrong.

As I slid the cover back onto the manhole I tried to be as quiet as possible. Once it was in place I turned, ready to head back home. Instead I came face to face with Michonne as she headed my way.

“Carl,” she called, a questioning look furrowing her brows. “I've been lookin' for you. We're about ready to head out. What are you doing?” she asked as she looked behind me at the manhole.

There was no point in lying, and if there was anyone I could trust it would be Michonne.

“I'm helping someone,” I admitted. “A traveller.”

“In the sewer?”

Before I could explain or defend my actions, the sound of something banging on the town walls had as both freeze and turn in the direction it was coming from.

The front gates.

Feedback rang through the air, followed by a voice we did not expect. A voice that made our blood run cold.

“You may be wondering why the hell your lookouts didn't sound the alarm,” Negan started. “See, we are polite. I mean, I don't know when they're gonna wake up from that kinda shot, but they should wake up. So let's just cut through the cow shit. You lose. It's over.”

My heart was racing. We were unprepared and outnumbered.

Dad wasn’t here. Hilltop wasn’t here. The Kingdom had fallen apart. There were women and children. Elderly people. People lived here that could not fight and could not run.

We were running out of time, and we were running out of options.

“So you're gonna line up in front of your little houses, and you're gonna work up some apologies, and then the person with the lamest one is gonna get killed.” Negan’s voice rang through the town. I had no doubt everyone was listening. “Then I kill Rick in front of everybody, and we move on. You have three, count 'em, three minutes to open this gate, or we start bombing the shit out of you!”

Michonne’s eyes were wide with fear. “They got out.”

“Come on.” I turned and headed towards the houses as Negan began whistling. “Michonne,” I called after her when she didn’t move. “Come on!”

We didn’t have time to waste.

MPOV

With his eyes on the road in front of us, Jesus drove. We were headed for the Sanctuary like we’d all planned. Cars full of our people followed as we drove through the night. Jesus and I were in the front, with him behind the wheel, while Neil- one of the Hilltop people- and Diane sat behind us.

Sighing, Jesus broke the silence, “Do you think they'll surrender?”

“They will.” I believed it. “Eventually.”

“Not now?”

I turned to give him a pointed look. “Would we give up that quick?”

“No, we wouldn't.”

“Damn straight,” Neil agreed from behind me.

“They don't surrender today, they will soon.” It was only a matter of time. “Just need to run out of food water choices.”

Turning back to the road, I focused on the plan ahead. We had one goal, one mission, one destination in mind. It was a road we’d taken several times before. One we knew like the back of our hands. So when something changed it didn’t go unmissed by me.

“Slow down,” I told Jesus as I shifted in my seat, suddenly tense and alert.

“What is it?” Neil asked.

I nodded to the road up ahead. “Tree in the road wasn't there before.”

“Could've fallen on its own,” Jesus suggested. “Trees do that.”

I knew better. “It's them. Something happened.” Grabbing the walkie talkie, I didn’t miss a beat before sending out orders, “Bertie, turn around.”

But there was no response.

“Bertie!”

I looked behind us for a moment to make sure the cars were still there.

“Maggie.” Diane nodded to the front of our car.

Turning again, I watched as a truck rolled down the road. It curved around the fallen tree and turned so the back was facing us before coming to a stop.

Sitting there, all of us tense as the anticipation built up, I found my mind reeling as a million scenarios played out in my mind. I had no doubt this was the Saviours, that was sure. I just didn’t know how they’d managed to get free.

Behind us we heard car doors opening and closing as other Saviours surrounded our vehicles. Then the back of the truck opened, revealing a few other Saviours… along with a beaten-up Jerry, and a wooden coffin.

One of the truck’s doors opened as Simon stepped out, toothy grin in place. “Hello, hello, hello!” He stretched with a groan. “Ahh. What a damn nice night.” He started to walk forward, thumbs hooked into the loops of his jeans. “You all know the drill. Due to your recent decisions, everything has changed. And yet, nothin' has changed. Everyone needs to hand over their guns. Gary, shoot that beautiful bastard if anyone tries anything. Same goes for everyone in the cars.”

With that order, Saviours reached in and took our weapons, their lights shinning in our faces. The coffin from the truck was dragged over and set on the trunk of car. It was all we could look at if we didn’t want to see the state jerry was in.

Glare set in stone, I watched as Simon headed towards me window. He sighed before bending down and leaning against the car to look inside.

“How'd you get out?” I asked, voice tense and full of venom.

“Three guesses.” He shrugged when I didn’t respond. “Well, let's just say we figured it out.”

“What'd you do to the others-”

He cut me off before I could finish. “Oh, yes! That's exactly where I was going next. Right now, Kingdom is getting its innards splayed out for the world to see. And the Saviours will be taking possession of that property, starting tonight. Same with Alexandria. As long as they don't make it complicated. But Hilltop? The farmers? The breadbasket of our nascent civilization? It's your lucky day. You've been chosen to keep producing. Gregory made a little bit of a fool out of me in front of the big man, so I am hoping that you are the one to make things right.”

He paused, leaning back to listen to something in the distance. It was music, coming from the direction of the Sanctuary.

“You hear that? I need you to shift into active listening,” He told me as a wide grin found it’s way back onto his lips. “Eugene! Who, by the way, I was admittedly sceptical of, but, man, worked out like gangbusters. He helped us get out of the situation with the masses of the cold and impolite. And now my guys are leading the rest of the herd away. So this can go one of two ways.

“One, I can kill this likable gent on his knees over there, drag you out of this car, and put you in this box.” He pulled back to knock on the coffin. “Hmm? In which you will not suffocate to death like your friend. Sasha.” He leaned back into the car and continued on, “And then we take you to Hilltop, gather everyone up, and kill you in front of the whole place. And then drag you back to Sanctuary and put on the spike in front of HQ. And then my people will lead the walker herd to the Hilltop and pull off the same move that your people tried unsuccessfully at our place.

“What a pain in the ass for everyone concerned. Hmm?” He shrugged. “Or two, you turn around, go home, start watering that sorghum, save everyone, and, most importantly, me, a lot of trouble. And, yeah we're gonna have to kill one of your people. But then we're aces.” Stepping back from the car, he turned to the Saviour pressing a gun to Jerry’s head. “Nah, Gary. I got this.”

The shot rang through the car as Neil’s head exploded. Simon had shot him. He’d killed him. Without warning or hesitation.

Snarling, Simon leaned in close. “I just really needed you to know what I was talkin' about. I need you to smell it. Now tell me I don't got to kill this gent with the lustrous mane. Tell me I don't got to go down the line! Tell me, Maggie!” He barely gave me a moment to respond. “Gary!”

A gun cocked as Gary got ready to do the same to Jerry as Simon had done to Neil.

“No!” I cried, stopped Gary in his tracks. “You don't need to do any of it.” Tense, tears brimming my eyes, I swallowed it all as I shifted in my seat. Now was not the time to snap. It was not the time to react. Not now. “I just want to ask you a favour.”

“What is that?”

“I'd like that box. Take Neil home, to bury him in.”

Simon nodded. “Favour granted.”

Pulling away from the car one more time, he headed towards the truck and got in without looking back. The other Saviours followed suit, leaving the rest of us there to turn around and head back home.

VPOV

Carl was taking charge. We were all alert, listening to him as he spouted orders, a plan already firm in his head.

“You need to make it look like we're escaping out back,” he explained as he scavenged for things we might need out of the little amount of supplies we had at Alexandria. “Get to the woods, halfway to the quarry, and cut the lights. Get enough of a lead on them, hit them, and get away on foot. You know where we'll be. Just have to get the guns, get everyone else here, and we'll meet you there.”

The plan was simple enough. A group of us would make it out, just a little ways down the road, not too far from home. Then we’d trap as many Saviours as we could and shoot them down. Meanwhile everyone else would be home, being ushered into the sewers while Carl kept Negan distracted.

There was a problem, though. I had a problem… I didn’t want him doing it on his own.

Carl was my baby brother. I’d been in the hospital the day he’d been born. I was there the day Otis shot him. I was there for him after we lost Mum. He’d been there for me, too. We I was found months after the farm it was Carl that I reconnected with first.

He was my lifeline, my childhood, my… my best friend. Before the world crashed and burned, and after it all went to hell, Carl and I had been there for each other.

Was I really ready to leave him here knowing there would be nothing I could do when the Saviours eventually broke down the walls?

“Two minutes, people!” Negan’s voice rang, pulling me out of my head. “Dig deep. I want these apologies to be memorable. Bonus points for creativity. Work up a poem, sing a song. I love that shit.”

Carl turned to those who were staying to get our people to safety. “Get going. There's gonna people in the infirmary. They're gonna need your help.” They ran off without question.

Tara stepped forward then. “Look, we got guns. We can fight them.”

Rosita shook her head. “We will, but not now. Carl's right.”

Surveying the area, taking in our home, Michonne turned to my brother. “Carl, we can't just let them have this place.”

“We can,” he assured her.

It was just a place. Just one more place we’d called home. But as I’d come to realise just a few weeks ago, it wasn’t really a home.

Home was wherever my people were. Home was wherever Aly rested her head at night. Home was wherever Judith would grow up. Home is wherever Daryl was. This place was just that, a place, and it was replaceable. The people here weren’t.

“Carl’s right.” I looked to the rest of the people gathered around. Tara, Rosita, Michonne, Daryl, Carl. “This place can burn and we’ll be fine. We always end up fine. This isn’t about saving our home, it’s about saving our people.

Carl nodded. “All you need to do is survive tonight.” His gaze landed on Michonne as he stepped towards her. “This is my show. You said it. This is my plan, and you're gonna do it. You're all gonna do it. So let's go!”

I grabbed Carl’s arm before he could run off. The others went to do their jobs, except Daryl. He waited for me.

“I can’t leave you here to do this by yourself.”

He looked down at my hand as I continued to hold him in place, before he looked up to meet my eyes. “You can’t stay here. If this doesn’t work out, if I fall… Dad needs you. Everyone needs you.”

I glared at him, feeling tears sting my nose. “Don’t talk like you know whats gonna happen. Don’t talk like you’re already dead.”

“One minute!” Negan called. “One. Minute.”

Pulling me in for a hug, he gave me a quick but tight squeeze. “I’ll see you when you get back.” Slipping from my grasp, he then ran off.

I watched as he hurried for the gate, towards the enemy.

“Vic.” Daryl’s hand landed on my shoulder. “We gotta go. Come on.”

Swallowing the tears that threatened to spill, I turned and let him lead me towards the others. If Carl was going to be in charge then I was going to make sure his plan went as smoothly as possible. I wasn’t letting us lose anyone tonight.

NPOV

“Okie dokie. Brought this on yourself, Rick,” I called on the megaphone as I paced in front of Alexandria’s gate. “See, was willing to work with you. All you had to do was follow a few very simple rules. Now? Well, now I see that you got to go. Scorched earth, you dick!”

“He's not home.”

My people spun around, aiming their guns up at the lookout, where someone now stood. Someone I did not expect.

“Oh-ho-holy shit! Everybody hold your fire,” I ordered, grinning up at the kid. “It's Carl.” They all did as I said, however the guns remained trained on the kid. “Look at you. Answering the door like a big boy. I am so proud. Daddy's not home, huh? What about big sis Vickie? My girl in there somewhere?” I asked looking to the gate, waiting for it to open.

Ignoring my questions, he did something I did not expect from him. He tried to convince us to hold fire. “There's families in here. Kids. My little sister and niece.”

The smile fell from my lips. “Well, that shit just breaks my heart. There's kids at the Sanctuary,” I countered. “You must've seen 'em. Even had a little baby at one of the outposts. I wonder what happened to her.”

Gracie. She was one of the worker’s kids and now she was gone. There was no body, so she wasn’t dead. At least I hoped not. I wondered if she was on the other side of the walls. I wondered if that was where Vickie was. She was a killer, but she was a mother, she’d protect all the babies until she had nothing left in her.

“None of this shit's fair, kid. Hell, you know that. You had to kill your own mum. That is screwed up. Ergo, we need someone in charge who's willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that shit doesn't happen.” I shrugged. “Oh. Wait. That's me.”

“Bad stuff does happen, but we can figure this out,” he argued. “We can stop this.”

“Oh, now you want to talk?” I dropped the megaphone, choosing to yell out at him instead. “See, your dad had it that I died. He gave my people a choice. Not me. Now we're gonna need a new understanding. Apologies, punish-”

He cut me off, “Kill me.”

My blood ran cold. “What did you say?”

“If you have to kill someone, if there has to be punishment, then kill me. I'm serious.”

“You wanna die?”

He shook his head. “No, I don't. But I will. It's gonna happen. And i-if me dying could stop this, if it can make things different… for us, for you, for all those other kids, it'd be worth it.” I could see he was. I could hear it in his words, in his tone. There wasn’t an ounce of a lie in him. “I mean, was this the plan? Was it supposed to be this way? Is this who you wanted to be?”

I couldn’t do it. Not because of the deal I’d made with Vickie. No, that shit had folded the second this war started. No, I just couldn’t kill the kid because I couldn’t. I liked him. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d want my son to be exactly like him if I’d had one.

He was a better man than his father, that’s for sure.

“They got a convoy out. We’re on ‘em.”

My eyes were drawn down to a Saviour behind me and their walkie talkie. The others we’d brought had been outside the other gate of the community to hold the people inside. By the sounds of things, that had gone according to plan.

As I looked back up, the kid was gone.

“Son of a bitch, Carl! Was that just a play?! I thought we were havin' a moment, you little asshole!” I turned to my people. “Bombs away!”

VPOV

I was crouched in the bushes with Daryl, Michonne, Rosita and Tara. We were waiting, knowing it was only a matter of time before the Saviours who had followed us found us. At the same time, though, I knew it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan back at home. The longer we were out here the more at risk are people were.

My daughter.

My sister.

My brother.

My people.

“They didn't get out because of what we did with the truck.” Tara’s voice had us all turn to her.

“Even if they did, it was just a mistake,” Rosita assured her. “And I made one, too. If I hadn't gone to the Sanctuary to kill Negan, maybe Sasha would still be alive. Maybe she would've gone herself. Maybe everything would've ended up going exactly the same way. I didn't want you guys to do it, but maybe you needed to. Maybe you needed to play things out to figure shit out.”

I was not blaming anyone. I had a feeling things would have gone to hell even if the other’s hadn’t gone back to the Sanctuary despite the plan. Negan always had a way of getting his way. I’d seen it time and time again.

“Where the hell are they?” Michonne was growing impatient. We all were.

The sound of vehicles approaching had as all duck down a little more as Daryl watched, waiting for our moment. Rosita snuck up to the edge of the road, throwing a smoke bomb out in the middle of it. The cars didn’t stop, though, not until they were covered by the fog.

“Now!” Daryl called.

We all aimed and fired, shooting down the unprepared Saviours as they tried to scurry to safety. Shooting down one each, Daryl and Michonne took two more down before we turned to the last couple.

Laura and Dwight.

“That's why you didn't want to block the gate with the trucks. That's why you drove right up to this! It was you! All of it!” Laura yelled, taking a shot at Dwight. “You tell them to stop!”

Aiming my gun, I caught sight of her and pressed my finger to the trigger. She was quick though, ducking out of the way as if sensing danger. She ran off into the bushes, leaving Dwight on the road. Whether he was alive or not we weren’t sure.

“It’s over!” Dwight called.

Pulling myself out of the dirt, I took the lead. The second I saw him I knew he was fine. “You’ll live.”

“Maybe not,” Daryl grunted as he stormed up to Dwight and pressed his gun to his head.

Dwight’s hands were up in surrender right away. “I made sure you guys could get out the back. I drove the convoy right up to the roadblock. I knew what it was. I can't go back. One of 'em got away. She's gonna tell them.”

Daryl didn’t let up, though. “How'd they get out? Was it what I did?”

“Eugene.”

I knew it. I knew they would have figured out something, and of course it was because of the one who had betrayed us. Eugene had been a sight for sore eyes when I’d been at the Sanctuary, but now he was just a thorn in my ass.

“I can still help you,” Dwight offered frantically, knowing his life was at risk.

I could have saved him with one word. He had helped me while I’d been away from my family. He’d helped me escape. I could have spared his life like he’d done mine. I didn’t make a move to, though. This was Daryl’s fight.

“I know how they work, how Negan thinks.” Dwight was scrambling now. “I want you to win. I want Negan to die. And we can settle up after.”

Reaching forward, I rested a hand on Daryl’s shoulder. “He’s right. We’ll settle this later. Right now I need to make sure our family is safe.”

Michonne nodded as she started grabbing guns from the bodies of the people we’d shot down. “We need to get back.”

Now, though, the two of you were leaving the library to catch up with Dean who had done his own research at the police station.

“Hey.” Sam nodded to his brother, with one hand holding his father’s journal while the other held your hand.

“Hey.” Dean nodded back as you fell in step with him. “What you got?”

“Well I couldn't find a Mordechai but I did find a Martin Murdock who lived in that house in the '30s,” Sam started, handing the research over to Dean. “He did have children but only two of them, both boys, and there's no evidence he ever killed anyone. What about you?”

The three of you were headed towards Baby, Sam’s hand still in yours as Dean fished out the keys as you all neared the car.

Dean shrugged as he answered Sam, “Well those kids didn't really give us a clear description of that dead girl but I did hit up the police station. No matching missing persons. It's like she never existed.” Coming to a stop by the car, Dean stood on the other side as he looked to his brother. “Dude, come on, we did our digging, man, this one's a bust all right. For all we know those hellHound boys made up the whole thing.”

“Yeah all right.” Sam nodded, looking a little defeated.

“I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend to the locals,” Dean suggested as he opened the car door before getting in.

You reached for your own handle, but Sam’s hand in yours pulled you back. Frowning, you looked up at him questioningly but before anything could be said Dean turned the car on.

Spanish music blared from inside the car, causing the older Winchester to yell out in shock.

“Whoa! What the…” Dean glared as he turned the music down and listened to Sam laughing hard. “That's all you got? Weak. That is bush league.”

Shrugging, Sam then turned back to you. “You’re welcome.” He grinned before leaning in to kiss you quickly. He then stepped back and opened your door for you.

Blushing, you slid into the car, not willing to admit that you were thankful Sam saved you from the prank… because that would sound too much like taking sides.

…

Sam and Dean came back to the car where you’d been waiting for them. They’d gone back to check out Mordachai’s house, after hearing something had happened last night.

“Any news?” you asked, calling out as you leant out the window.

Sam glanced around as he neared you before answering, “A girl hung herself in the house last night.”

You frowned. “This isn’t the kind of place someone goes to kill themselves… not after the story that’s come out.”

He nodded, agreeing with you. “She was a straight A student. She had her whole life ahead of her,” he noted.

Dean sighed, shrugging. “Look, Sammy and me think we missed something, so we’re coming back tonight. We think it might be best-”

You looked between the two of them, jaw almost falling open in shock. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“He’s only going after women,” Sam noted.

Glaring up at him, you watched him carefully. “Is this a woman thing, or an Omega thing?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked, clearly confused.

Looking between the two of them, you shrugged. “Are you telling me to stay back because I’m a woman and that’s whats being hunted, or because I’m an Omega? If I was a Beta would you let me join, vagina and all?”

Dean chocked at your choice of words, but Sam stayed focus. “Can’t it be both?”

Your eyes turned more pleading rather than accusing. “Sam…”

“We’re trying to keep you safe. You can’t blame us for that,” he started, leaning over the car so he took up your whole view. “We can’t be sure we’ll do the job right if we know all that will be hunted is you. Our focus will be split and that could put any one of us in danger.”

Chewing your lip thoughtfully, you realised that would mean the boys would also be in danger. “Can I at least wait in the car again?”

He shook his head. “We’re gonna take you back to the motel room.”

There was no room for debate. The brothers had talked it over and made their minds up, and clearly Sam wasn’t going to let you out of this. You knew it wasn’t anything against you, they just wanted what was best.

With a sigh and a nod of your head, the brothers then moved to get in the car themselves. You found yourself staring out the window as they drove off, hoping this wasn’t going to lead to them falling into old habits. You’d really grown to like joining them on hunts.

…

Sam was sitting at the table in the motel room, while Dean was on his bed. You were straddling him, cleaning the cut he’d gotten early that night when they’d gone to Mordachai’s house without you. You were worried about them the whole time, and to see Dean come back hurt had you fretting. It was only small, but it was bleeding and that was enough to have you taking care of it carefully and thoughtfully.

He had one hand on your thigh, his thumb drawing circles on your bare skin, while his other hand held his notepad in front of him. He’d drawn a symbol on it and was trying to figure out where he knew it from.

Meanwhile, Sam was on his computer, doing research on the ghost hunter guys. Apparently they’d almost become a problem tonight.

“What the hell is this symbol? It's buggin' the hell outta me,” Dean sighed. “This whole damn job's buggin' me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks.”

“It does,” Sam noted.

“All right. Well I mean that explains why he went after you, but why me?”

“Ha ha ha.” You rolled your eyes. Dean just grinned up at you.

“Hilarious.” Sam shook his head from the other side of the room. “The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those slit wrists?”

“Yeah.”

“What's up with that? And the axe too. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over?”

“But this mook keeps changing,” Dean noted.

You paused your cleaning, a frown furrowing your brows. This all sounded familiar…

Sam nodded. “Exactly. I'm telling ya, the way the story goes ... wait a minute.”

Dean perked up at that. “What?”

“Someone added a new post to the Hell Hound site. Listen to this.” Sam began to read from the website, “'They say Mordechai Murdock was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he's imprisoned in the house for eternity;. Where the hell is this going?”

Dean’s thumb, which had been drawing circles on your thigh, paused as his eyes lit up. “I don't know but I think I might have just figured out where it all started.”

…

Dean took the lead as the three of you walked into the record shop again. “Hey Craig? Remember us?”

This time, when you looked over at the Beta, there was no bravado. He didn’t look smug or proud of himself. The publicity he’d gotten from his story no longer felt as sweet as he’d once imagined it would be. The guy looked almost defeated.

At the sight of you and the brothers, Craig shook his head. “Guys, look I'm really not in the mood to answer any of your questions ok?”

“Oh don't worry. We're just here to buy an album, that's all, Dean assured him as he lead you and Sam over to some records. “ You know I couldn't figure out what that symbol was and then I realised that it doesn't mean anything.” He pulled out a particular record then. “It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult.”

Looking at the cover of the record, you recognised the symbol Dean had been obsessing over for hours. There it was, sitting right in front of you. There was nothing occult about it.

“Tell me Craig,” Dean continued, “you, uh, you into BOC? Or just scaring the hell outta people? Now why 'n't you tell us about that house ... without lying through your ass this time.”

Sighing, the last of Craig’s facade broke. “All right, um. My cousin Dana was on break from TCU. Ah, I guess we were just bored, looking for something to do. So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted. So we painted symbols on the walls, some from some albums, some from some of Dana's theology textbooks. Then we found out this guy Murdock used to live there so we ...we made up some story to go along with that.

“So they told people, who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of its own. I mean I, I thought it was funny at first but... now that girl's dead! It was just a joke, you know. I mean, none of it was real, we made the whole thing up. I swear!”

But if none of it was real… what killed that girl and attacked the guys?

…

You were leaning over the table, looking at the symbols on Sam’s phone. He’d taken photos when they’d first visited the house. Seeing as you hadn’t been able to go inside, you hadn’t had the chance to see what they’d seen. You had no idea about the symbol Dean had been fussing about, but it gave you an idea.

There was something in the case that felt familiar. It was like you could hear Bobby calling you an idjit for not figuring it out yet. So you were looking through Sam’s photos, hoping one of them might spark something in your head.

“Hey.” Sam came over to stand beside you to see what you were doing. “Seen Dean?”

You shook your head without looking up at him. “Uh… no. I think he went out.” You briefly remember hearing the Impala drive off while you were fixated on the photos.

“You okay?” Sam asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

“It’s just this case,” you started. “There’s something here. I can feel it. Like I know what we’re dealing with I just can’t put my finger on it. If these pictures could just-”

Carefully, he reached over and took the phone out of your hand before closing it. “How about we take your mind off it? Maybe taking a break will help,” he suggested.

Sighing, you closed your eyes as you leaned back against him. With your eyes closed you could feel a burn behind your eyelids, which made you realise just how focused you were on the photos. Your brain and eyes were tired.

“Come on.” Sam leaned over to press a kiss on your shoulder before his hands found your waist as he began to lead you.

You didn’t open your eyes, trusting him as he walked you through the motel room. When your bare feet touched cold floor, you knew he’d brought you to the bathroom. It was then that you opened your eyes finally.

Sam let you go and moved to close the door before he then reached for his shirt. You watched as he pulled it over his head, leaving his chest bare. Your tired eyes drank in the taste of him, never tiring of the view that was Sam Winchester.

With gentle hands, he began to pluck at your clothes, undressing you carefully as if realising you were so tired your brain had put you under an almost spell as you ogled his chest. Then he was reaching for the shower and turning the water on.

Hand still stretched out, he waited for the water to warm up and then he turned back to you. Cupping the side of your face, he leaned in to kiss you tenderly, causing you to melt against him. With a content sigh, you leaned into the touch, your hands coming up to splay across his chest.

Reaching down, Sam’s hand found yours as he pulled away. Without a word, he led you over to the shower, waiting for you to step under the warm spray. Your eyes closed once more as your muscles and all the tension in your body began to melt away and fall down the drain.

Noise had you opening your eyes once more as you watched Sam take the rest of his own clothes off before he stepped into the shower to join you.

Smiling up at him, you reached up onto your toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He smiled back, against you, enjoying the sweet moment as the two of you just enjoyed a few innocent kisses shared between you.

Hands sat on your waist before Sam turned you around so your back was to him. He then reached for the soap. You didn’t have a chance to guess what came next before he was lathering the soap on your back.

His hands worked out the tension in your shoulders and back as he rubbed at your muscles. It felt so good you found your eyes closing as you leaned against him. Fingers began to wander then, as he moved from your back, to your shoulders, to your front.

When he first grazed your nipple you gasped. You clenched around nothing as your mouth remained open as another gasp quickly followed the first when his hands stroked over your nipple again.

Leaning down, he pressed kisses to your neck, shoulder and jaw as his hands continued to wander over your chest and back until your nipples were hard and your pussy was aching.

Sam hummed approvingly, sensing your arousal. You began to pant as you reached up and behind you, holding his head close to you as his own hands continued to wander.

One hand cupped your breast then, his fingers plucking and pulling at your nipple as the other hand splayed across your stomach. You nodded, desperate for him to continue his trails further south. A task he graciously fulfilled.

Fingers sliding down, Sam didn’t stop until he was toying with your soaked entrance. You moaned at the teasing digits as they stroked your opening, promising pleasure without giving it to you.

“I could get drunk on your scent,” Sam groaned, almost growling into your ear.

You whimpered, hips grinding as you desperately tried catching his fingers so you were no longer clenching around nothing. “Sam…”

“You’ve been so worked up, haven’t you?” He dragged his nose along the side of your face until he caught your earlobe between his teeth and tugged on it, before letting go. “So desperate.”

Nodding, you whined, unable to find words as you continued to squirm in his grasp.

“Haven’t been touched since you came on my fingers weeks ago. Since I had you screaming in that bathtub.” He pinched your nipple then, pulling a cry out of you as your pussy throbbed and ached desperately. “You could have left… gone with John… a good Omega would have.”

“Sam… please…”

“Are you a good Omega, Y/N? Are you John’s good Omega?” Suddenly his hand left your breast before you felt his strong grasp on your throat. He pulled your head back so he could hover his lips over yours as he asked, “Or are you mine?”

The scent of his Alpha, the feel of his hand on your throat, his fingers teasing you so deliciously as his lips grazed yours with every possessive word that fell out of your mouth.

“Please, please,” you begged. “Please, Sam. Fuck. Please.” You were desperate like never before squirm in his grasp, needing to feel him consume every part of you. “I’m yours.”

His lips curled back into a pleased snarl as he watched the desperation on your face grow feral. “Say it. Say the words.”

“I’m your Omega.”

The growl that came from Sam was pure animal as he snarled against your lips before letting your throat go. He pushed you forward, causing your hands to fly out and press against the cool tile wall as his grip found your waist and tugged you closer to him. Clutching at whatever you could grasp onto, you felt him lift you onto your toes as he lined himself up before he thrust.

You cried out as he went ball deep inside you, his cock throbbing just as desperate as your pussy had been clenching around nothing. With a hand on your hip, his other then found the back of your neck as he used it as leverage. You whined with need as he began a hard pace, taking his time with each thrust to feel you squeeze his cock every time he slid out of you.

Clawing at the wall, you tried to take some power back, tried to thrust back into him. But his grip had you stuck in place. There was nothing equal in this, he was playing you like a toy and all you could do was enjoy.

His cock thrust into you with a bruising force, his hip bones crashing into your ass. You were pushed forward with every thrust until your chest was pressed against the cold tiled wall. Your nipples ached at the coolness, only adding to your pleasure as he continued to torture you with such a slow pace.

Hand leaving the back on your neck, Sam drifted over your spin until he reached the globes of your ass. Then there was a sharp sting as the sound of him spanking you filled the room.

“Fuck!” You clenched around him, arching your back as you squeezed his cock inside you. Sam growled at your grip, his pace starting to finally pick up.

Bringing his hand down again, Sam spanked your other cheek as he continued to fuck you hard. Your nails tried to claw into the wall, but your grip simply slid over the tiles, giving you nothing to grasp.

When your ass was singing in beautiful pain, Sam finally relented as he then reached around to find your clit. He pressed his cest to your back as his fingers gently grazed over the bundle of nerves. The stark contrast of his action, having gone from feral to delicate, had your head spinning.

You came on his cock, crying out as your legs gave out underneath you. Sam’s grip saved you from collapsing in the shower as he held you to him. Your pussy clenched around his still thrusting cock as it milked him for his own release.

With a groan, Sam gave one last thrust, burying himself deep inside you as he came. You could feel strings of cum spill from him as he filled you to the brim. Moaning, you clenched around his over sensitive cock, causing it to spasm and spurt out more inside you as Sam twitched with too much pleasure.

Out of breath and spent, you smiled as Sam began to pepper kisses along your back. The two of you took a moment or so, recovering as your bodies sang in bliss.

When he was a little more himself, Sam carefully pulled himself out of you, hissing as he did. You couldn’t help but grin over your shoulder, knowing he was very sensitive right now. Catching that look in your eyes, he swatted your ass with a grin of your own. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned at the contact.

Sam was gentle with you after that, carefully continuing to wash the rest of your body as you remained a little too blissed out to be worth much good. You were purring inside, so satiated and buzzed.

“Wow.” You smiled lazily.

Sam just chuckled, shaking his head as he continued to clean you.

Watching him clean you thoroughly, a thought occurred to you. “Hey Sam… could Mordechai be a Tulpa?”

His hands stopped their work as his eyes ragged up to meet yours. He was shocked, until his lips split into a wide smile. Leaning forward, he kissed you fiercely. “You’re brilliant.”

Smiling against him, you gave a light shrug. “I do my best.”

Chuckling, Sam then pulled back and continued washing you until he was done. Then you were stepping out before he turned to wash himself as you grabbed your towel to wrap it around yourself.

“Hey, I'm back.”

He didn’t even flinch at the sound of his brother returning before Sam called out in return. “Hey, where were you?”

“Oh, I went out,” Dean answered.

As Sam finished washing himself, he kept talking to his brother, “So I think Y/N might have a theory about what's going on.”

Reaching around, he shut the water off and stepped out. You passed him his own towel, your eyes watching the water drip down his body. Suddenly you were ready for round two.

“Oh yeah?” Dean called back.

“What if Mordechai is a Tulpa?” Sam explained.

“Tulpa?”

Opening the bathroom door, Sam stepped out into the main space of the motel room, followed by you. “Yeah, a Tibetan thought form,” he noted to his brother.

Dean looked a little off, but was quick to shrug and play it cool. “Ahh, yeah, I know what a Tulpa is,” he insisted. “Hey why don't you get dressed, I wanna go grab something to eat.” Stepping over to you, he leaned in to give you a kiss.

You leaned into him, kissing him back, expecting it to be quick but he paused. You could hear him sniff the air before he groaned lowly. His arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you into him and pressed his lips to yours hard.

“Come shower with me,” he pleaded, his fingers plucking at your towel, wanting to undo it so he could get his hands on your bare skin.

Laughing, you pushed at his chest playfully as you shook your head. “I just showered. Besides… I’m hungry.” You pouted up at him.

His eyes watched your lips fall into the pout and he groaned. “Can never say no to you.” Leaning in to kiss you once more, he then pulled back. “I’ll be quick. Make sure you’re ready to head out. Gonna feed my girl.”

Spitting out the spoon, Sam shook himself as he was forced awake. Once he realised what had happened, Dean’s laughter a dead giveaway, he glared. “Ha ha, very funny.”

Dean simply chuckled. “Sorry, not a lot of scenery here in East Texas, kinda gotta make your own.”

“Man, we're not kids anymore Dean. We're not going to start that crap up again.”

“Start what up?” Dean played dumb.

“That prank stuff. It's stupid, and it always escalates.”

“Aw, what's the matter Sammy, scared you're going to get a little Nair in your shampoo again huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you looked between them before leaning forward to rest on the back of their chair. “Every time you guys play pranks I always end up getting pulled into it,” you noted before reaching forward to turn the music down.

Dean moved quickly to kiss your exposed neck before he turned back to the road. “That’s ‘cause you never take a side.”

Sam turned a charming smile onto you. “Maybe she should.”

Looking into the younger brother’s eyes, you felt your cheeks burn. His smile grew as if he knew how he made you feel. Leaning forward, he caught your lips with his own.

Melting against him, you sighed into his mouth as he brought his hand up to cup the back of your head, keeping you against him. Moving closer, you went jelly against the back of their chair as he turned around as much as he could.

“Hey! Hey!” Dean swatted at the two of you. “You’re not playing fair. I can’t win her over while I’m driving!”

Laughing, Sam pulled back as he turned a smirk of his own to his brother. “Just remember you started this.”

Rolling your eyes once more, you fell back into your seat, trying to ignore the heat between your thighs.

…

While Sam was busy carrying yours and his things, and unlocking the motel room door, Dean took the chance to sweep you up. As soon as the room’s door was open he threw his bag inside and grabbed you, lifting you into his arms.

You gasped out of surprise and shock before laughing as your legs wrapped around him. His hands grasped your ass over your jeans as he hurried the two of you over to one of the two beds before dropping the two of you onto it. On top of you, he took a short moment to grin down at you before he crashed down, pressing his lips against yours in bruising kisses.

Moaning against him, you carded your fingers through his hair as his fingers crept under your shirt, causing you to grind against him as heat began to pool in your panties once again.

“Hey!” Sam threw a pillow from the other bed at his brother. “We’ve got a job to do.”

Groaning, Dean pulled back just enough to look over at him. “You’re just worried I’ll win her over and she’ll take my side.” The playful glare Sam gave told both you and Dean that he was right. He just laughed. “Don’t worry, Sammy, you can still play with her after you lose.”

Swatting at Dean’s chest, you glared at both of them. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not taking sides here. I want nothing to do with whatever stupid crap you guys are about to get up to.”

“Really?” Dean turned to you. “What if I promise taking my side will come with perks?”

Hesitating a moment, you raised an eyebrow as you asked, “What kind of perks?”

“Maybe a late night ride in Baby… take you somewhere secluded… and then bend you over the hood and have you screaming on my knot?”

You swallowed thickly, ready to follow him in an instant.

Sam came over to stand by the bed then, his crotch in line with your head. Your eyes dragged up his body until you met his heated gaze, pausing any words of compliance towards Dean in your throat.

“I’ll have you coming on my tongue until you see stars, and then I’ll fuck you from behind so I can smack your ass until you can’t sit for days.”

An involuntary whine escaped from your lips as you looked up at the younger brother.

Dean’s hand came out to caress your cheek as he turned your attention back to him. “Don’t listen to him, sweetheart. I know the Omega in you wants nothing more than to be wild out at night, under the stars.” Leaning forward, he nuzzled your neck, licking tentatively at your pulse point.

Your head was turned towards Sam, which meant you could watch him drink in the sight of you as his hand reached down to rub at the very obvious lump in his pants.

“I just wanna taste you on my tongue. Bury my face in you until I can’t breathe,” he started. “Making the Alpha in me pant at the thought, baby.”

Your eyes rolled back as their Alpha scents smothered you deliciously. “Oh fuck.”

For days now this is how you’d lived. Both brothers torturing you and worshipping you with every fibre of their Alpha beings. They were praising and thanking you for staying with them instead of going with their father.

It had been a big risk, denying the pack Alpha, but you knew it was what was best for you. You knew going with him would leave you miserable and alone. If you had gone with John you wouldn’t be stuck in the torturous prediciment the brothers had you in, now.

“You two aren’t playing fair,” you pouted, whining at both of them.

Chuckling against your throat, Dean pulled away then. You moaned in disapproval as he slipped off the bed entirely. “Sorry, sweetheart, but you don’t wanna play.” He shrugged.

“I want to play, I just don’t want to choose,” you argued.

Sighing, with a soft smile, Sam leaned over to catch your lips with his in a searing but short kiss. “No one’s making you.”

As he pulled away to join his brother by the bags by the table, you sighed and dropped back onto the bed. You were wet and horny, and they were leaving you to cool down without any satisfaction.

“Next time either of you want sex I’m withholding it,” you declared.

“Sure,” Dean scoffed.

“We believe you,” Sam added.

Rolling your eyes, you rolled over and buried your face into the pillow to scream in frustration. Meanwhile, they got back to work.

“Gimme the lowdown again?” Dean asked.

“All right, about a month or two ago this group of kids goes poking around in this local haunted house,” Sam started.

“Haunted by what?

“Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit. Legend goes, it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters. Anyway this group of kids see this dead girl hanging in the cellar.”

As you rolled back over to watch them, you spotted Dean frowning. “Anybody ID the corpse?”

Sam shrugged. “Well, that's the thing. By the time the cops got there the body was gone. So cops are saying the kids were just yanking chains.”

“Maybe the cops are right,” Dean suggested.

Sam didn’t look convinced. “Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids firsthand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere.”

“Where'd you read these accounts?”

Sam scoffed, as if he knew this line of questioning from his brother wasn’t going to end well, “Well, I knew we were going to be passing through Texas. So, umm, last night, I surfed some local ... paranormal websites. And I found one.”

“And what's it called,” Dean pressed.

“HellHoundsLair.com”

“Lemme guess, streaming live out of Mom's basement.”

“Yeah, probably.” Sam shrugged.

“Yeah. Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit 'em in the persqueeter.”

Sam sighed, shrugging once more. “Look we gotta find ourselves something to hunt. There's no harm checking this thing out.”

“All right. So where do we find these kids?”

You chimed in then, smiling. “Drive-in, boys… means food!” Jumping off the bed, you scooped up Baby’s keys from the table.

Dean reached out after you, trying to snatch the keys away. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“If I’m not getting satisfied with dick, I’m getting satisfied with fries,” you stated matter of factly, holding the keys in front of you, moving them closer to your neck as you tilted your head back. Both brothers eyed the vulnerable skin with heated eyes as you grinned. “Unless you’re finally ready to make his kitty pur.”

Jumping out of his seat, Dean snatched the keys away from you with one hand as the other snaked around your waist. He leaned in, breathing against your neck, scenting you as he backed you up until your back was against the door.

You giggled and bit your lip, tilting your head further to give him more access as he began to trail his lips over the exposed skin.

Sam stood then, eyeing you knowingly and hungrily, but he kept his focus. “She can have fries, Dean. Your dick can wait. We’ve got a job.”

Pausing for a brief moment, Dean breathed in your scent once more before he pulled back. “Yeah, you’re right. I know,” he mumbled.

You stepped aside and let Dean leave as you pouted at Sam. “I just wanna have fun. You guys are the ones who got me so hot and bothered.”

Chuckling lightly, he leaned down to kiss the corner of your lips. “Patience.” Then he continued on, walking out with his brother.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself, you then followed the brothers out and over to Baby, hoping that this case will hurry up and finish itself so you can enjoy your two Alphas.

…

Sitting at one of the tables in the diner, you watched as the brothers went to each of the three people that had been at the incident. You had gotten the fries you wanted, and a cheese burger, which you were currently casually munching on as your eyes drifted around the room.

You couldn’t help but smile, seeing the looks on the brothers’ faces. Whatever they were being told wasn’t that helpful.

Good. Means they’re suffering. Serves them right.

Rocking side to side a little, happy with your food and showing it with a little dance, you smiled at the brothers as they headed your way. “Get anything good?”

Dean dropped into the seat next to you. “That was painful,” he sighed.

Subconsciously, your body turned to lean against him as his arm rested behind your chair. “Wanna share my burger?” you offered.

Even though he was half of the reason you were sexually frustrated- once again- you still felt the need to ease him. It was the Omega in you, the need to care for your Alphas outweighing your desire to brat a little.

Dean smiled appreciatively before grabbing the burger to dig in.

Sam sat across from the two of you. He reached over to slide your water closer, which you were sure he didn’t even realise he’d done. Since you’d decided to stay with the brothers over John he’d become more of a caregiver towards you two. Your theory was that it was his own subconscious way of showing his thanks.

“We got a lead,” Sam started.

“Finally,” Dean grumbled around his mouth full of food.

Ignoring his brother, Sam went on, “All three retold the story differently, but they all agreed on one thing. The same person was the one who told them about the place and took them there.”

Nodding as you grabbed another fry, you shrugged. “So where is this guy?”

“Works at a record store,” Sam answered. “We’ll check it out tomorrow. For now, we should head back and get some rest.”

“Okay.” Dusting the salt off your fingers, you slid off your chair as Sam stood as well.

Dean took another couple of bite of the burger before wrapping it all up and grabbing the food to go. He was already pulling the keys out of his pocket and headed towards Baby before you and Sam had moved.

…

Walking out of the bathroom in an oversized shirt that belonged to one of the brothers- you weren’t sure who exactly, though- you walked into the darkened motel room. Both brothers were in bed, Dean flicking through his phone while Sam was sitting up, with his arm resting behind his head. He was looking up at the ceiling, deep in thought.

You used to struggle with picking who to sleep with, but since John had gone again you’d left it to your instincts. You trusted yourself more than you ever had before, so you simply let your feet do the walking and didn’t question which bed you ended up crawling into.

Tonight you found yourself creeping over to Sam. His eyes caught sight of you as you neared. Reaching over, he pulled the sheets away and let you crawl in beside him.

Humming happily, you smiled as he shifted until he was pressed against your back, his arm wrapping around you. His nose found the crook of your neck where he breathed in your scent which had him sigh with content. Any tension left his body.

After a short while Dean turned his phone off and rolled over. Not too long after that, you heard his breath even as he fell asleep. Neither you nor Sam had drifted off, yet.

“You should get some sleep,” he whispered to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

Nodding against him, you shuffled into him further, letting his warmth and embrace lull you to sleep as his breath stayed even against your neck.

…

You walked between Dean and Sam, the latter taking the lead as the three of you stepped into the record shop Craig supposedly worked at. Your eyes drifted, taking in all the records and cds on display for sale. You didn’t even pay attention to the customers milling about, knowing the brothers would take charge as they always did.

It was nice, benign included in the hunts even though you didn’t always bring something to the table. It just felt really good to be wanted, not necessarily needed. The brothers liked having you around, and now that you were all on a more trusting level neither brother had a problem bringing you along.

“Hey,” a guy who you could only assume worked there, stepped up to you and the Winchester brothers, “can I help you with anything?”

Sam nodded, taking charge. “Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?”

“I am,” the guy answered.

“Well we're reporters with the Dallas Morning News,” Dean started. “'m Dean, this is Sam and Y/N.”

Craig looked to each of you, growing excited at the prospect of some publicity. “No way. Well I'm writer too. I write for my school's lit magazine.”

You watched him as he tried to cover up any hint of his excitement, getting back to work. He was a small Beta, not much on him. You doubted the guy ever got much attention so this was like Christmas for him. Sniffing the air, you could practically taste him trying to puff up his chest proudly. But he was a Beta… you could barely sense him over the brothers.

“Well, good for you Morrissey.” Dean gave a tight smile. Clearly he didn’t care.

Ignoring his brother, Sam got back on track, “Umm. We're doing an article on local hauntings and rumour has it you might know of one.”

“You mean the Hell House?”

“That's the one.” Dean nodded.

“I didn't think there was anything to the story.”

“Why don't you tell us the story?” Sam suggested.

Taking the bait, Craig started, “Well, supposedly back in the '30s this farmer, Mordachai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, he didn't have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that's when he went off the deep end.”

“How?” Sam asked.

“Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick, rather than starve to death,” Craig explained. “So he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop but he just strung 'em up, one after the other. And when he was all finished he just turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside.”

So much for joining them in the case. You knew, without a doubt, they weren’t going to let you tag along if you were in any particular danger.

Dean watched him carefully. “Where'd you hear all this?”

“My cousin Dana told me. I don't know where she heard it from.” Craig shrugged. “Ya gotta realise, I- I didn't believe this for a second.”

“But now you do,” Sam noted.

Craig sighed, “I don't know what the hell to think, man. You guys, I--I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, ok? That girl was real. And she was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, ok?”

…

Sam and Dean were walking ahead of you as the three of you neared Mordachai’s house. It was run down, barely standing. The property was off the road, a decent distance away to not be worth much to pay attention to. Clearly that had changed recently, though.

“Can't say I blame the kid,” Sam sighed as he took in the state of the house.

Craig never wanted to come back to this place, and you could tell why.

“Yeah, so much for curb appeal,” Dean added.

As the three of you came to the edge of the front fence of the house, both brothers stopped and turned to you.

“This is where the line stops,” Dean noted, giving you a pointed look.

You glanced from him to Sam, trying to plead with your eyes. But the younger Winchester simply nodded, agreeing with his brother. “Story says any girl that goes inside won’t come out. You’re staying here.”

Pouting, you gave in with a sigh. “Fine, but if anything happens-”

Reaching forward, Sam rested his hand on your arm reassuringly. “If anything happens we’ll come right out. We don’t wanna risk you following us in.” He knows you would. Any sign of danger and you’d run in to save them. “Just promise me you’ll stay safe.”

Nodding, you did just that.

He smiled, stepping closer to you. “Thank you.” Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before he and his brother turned to walk towards the house, leaving you to stand there and wait anxiously.

Sam ignored you all, though, as he focused on Meg, his mind ticking as the pieces fell into place. “This, the whole thing, was a trap. Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearin’ what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn’t it? And that the victims were from Lawrence?”

She chuckled. “It doesn’t mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that’s all.”

“You killed those two people for nothin’,” Sam spat.

“Baby, I’ve killed a lot more for a lot less.”

“You trapped us. Good for you. It’s Miller time.” Dean shrugged. “But why don’t you kill us already?”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Not very quick on the uptake, are we? This trap isn’t for you.”

The second the words left her lips you knew the truth.

“John.”

Her head snapped in your direction. “Clever girl.” She smiled.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re dumber than you look,” Dean scoffed. “'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn’t walk into something like this. He’s too good.”

“He is pretty good. I’ll give you that.” She stood and walked over to him. You had to struggle against your binds to watch as she straddled him. “But you see, he has one weakness.”

“What’s that?” he asked, voice tense with repulsion.

“You,” she answered simply. “He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgement.” She leaned in closer to him. “I happen to know he is in town. And he’ll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody… nice and slow and messy.”

Dean had all the faith in John, though. Nothing she said would scare him. “Well, I’ve got news for ya. It’s gonna take a lot more than some….shadow to kill him.”

“Oh, the Daevas are in the room here,” she countered. “They’re invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see.”

“Why you doin’ this, Meg? What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?”

Meg turned to Sam to answer his question, her tone going from cocky to defensive quickly. “I’m doing this for the same reasons you do what you do… loyalty. Love.” She paused before her grin returned. “Like the love you had for Mummy… and Jess.”

“Go to hell,” he spat.

“Baby, I’m already there.” Crawling away from Dean, she moved over to Sam before sitting herself in his lap. “Come on, Sam. There’s no need to be nasty.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear, “I think we both know how you really feel about me.” Her body was pressed against his. “You know, I saw you watching me. Changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn’t it?”

The rope that had you tied to the spot was cutting into your wrists as you struggled against them. You wanted to dig your teeth into her throat and rip it out. You wanted to tear her to shreds and wear her blood like war paint. You wanted to kill her with your bare hands and teeth, and not stop until she was turned to nothing.

“I didn’t mind,” she went on. “I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun.”

You felt something primal snap in you as she began to grind against him. But what really got your blood pumping was when she started the nibble on his neck.

“You wanna have fun? Go ahead then. I’m a little tied up right now.” Sam’s voice was tight as he just sat there stiffly.

Slowly, he turned his head to catch your gaze. You held it as you continued to struggle against your binds. The stench of your rage was thick in the room. There was no doubt everyone could smell it.

The sound of something metallic clinking against the ground had everyone freeze.

Meg waited barely a second before she scurried over to Dean and snatched away the knife he’d been using to cut away at his ties. Then she slid back over to Sam, right back onto his lap.

“Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?”

Sam shook his head. “No. No.” She pulled back to watch him as he went on, “That’s because I have a knife of my own.”

Breaking free from his bins, Sam grabbed Meg and smashed his head into hers. She fell back with a heavy weight as he grunted and groaned in pain, clutching at his head.

“Sam!” Dean called out. “Get the altar.”

Fighting the pain and dizziness, Sam pulled himself to his feet and fumbled over to the altar as quickly as he could. Grabbing the table, he flipped it, sending the contents of the altar flying and falling.

The sound of screeches filled the room as shadows began to suddenly rush Meg. The three of you watched as she was dragged to the large windows before she was thrown through them.

Sam hurried over to Dean, handing him a spare knife before he moved to cut you free. The second you were able to move you ran over to the edge of the window and looked down. Lying there, on the ground in a mangled heap, was a now very dead Meg.

Dean and Sam came over to stand on either side of you, the youngest breaking the silence, “So, I guess the Daevas didn’t like being bossed-”

Before Sam could finish his sentence you grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to you. Crashing his lips onto yours, you devoured any words he’d been about to speak as you reclaimed him as your own.

When you finally let up and gave him the chance to pull away, Sam looked down at you with wide eyes.

“Mine,” was all you could say.

Dean shifted behind you, which had you spinning on your heels to grab his shirt to hold him in place.

“Mine,” you repeated.

With both brothers in your grasp, the Alphas nodded. “Yours,” they said at the same time.

Their confirmation allowed you to relax. Your grip on their shirts slipped as you felt the tension, stress and anxiety fade away.

“You okay?” Sam asked as he stepped closer to you, resting a hand on your shoulder.

Nodding, you found yourself lost for words.

Seeming to sense that, Dean placed a gentle hand on the small of your back. “Let’s get you back to the motel room.”

All you could do was nod again as you let the brothers lead you away, feeling security and comfort replace the negativity you’d been filled with moments ago.

…

One of Sam’s hands was in yours, while his other held the duffle bag of supplies. Dean was a couple steps ahead, pulling out the key to the hotel room out of his pocket.

You were more than eager for rest after the job’s events. The whole thing had been taxing on so many levels. More than just physical. So the idea of being able to rest up for the rest of the night before moving on sounded amazing.

“Why didn’t you just leave that stuff in the car?” Dean asked Sam as he started unlocking the room’s door.

Sam shrugged. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again. Better safe than sorry.”

As Dean opened the door, the three of you shuffled into the room, only to come to a sudden stop at the sight of a man standing by the window.

“Hey!” Dean yelled in an instant, out of instinct.

Your instincts were different, though. Using your free hand, you held it out in front of the older brother as your other hand held Sam back. “Guys… wait…”

The scent had hit you before you’d fully comprehended the thought of someone breaking into your hotel room. You knew he was there before you could even think of a whisper of there being a threat.

Sam dropped the duffle bag and reached for the light, turning it on to erase the darkness in the room and reveal who was standing in front of you.

John smiled at the three of you, proud and relieved.

“Dad?” Dean was clearly shocked.

John simply nodded. “Hey, boys. Y/N.” 

Reacting with emotion, Dean stepped forward, meeting his father halfway before the two of them embarrassed in a long and tight hug. The emotion filled the room, reaching even you and Sam as the two of you hesitated to move from the room’s door.

As they pulled away, John looked to his other son. “Hi Sam.”

All Sam could do was nod as he responded softly, “Hey, Dad.

John’s eyes turned to you, then. The breath he let out released so much tension and emotion. There was so much longing and need. He needed the reassuring touch of his Omega. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you weren’t his.

Finger’s slipping out of Sam’s grasp, you felt your heart ache a little as you did what you were taught to do and stepped up to the Alpha of your pack.

John pulled you to him as soon as you were within reach. Grasping the back of your head, he buried his face in your neck as he breathed in your scent. At the same time you could sense him scenting you, making sure to leave a reminder of himself as he held you against him.

Pulling back ever so slightly, he searched your eyes without really reading them, before he pulled you in and pressed his lips against yours in a desperate kiss.

It was muscle memory. With the muscle memory came other memories which flooded your mind and heart. Tears pricked at your eyes as you lifted your hand to grasp his jacket and hold him closer. Melting into his touch and the kiss, you revelled in the memories of comfort and security this man had created with you over the years you’d been together.

Cupping your face, he wiped away a stray tear from your cheek as he pulled you away. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, sir.”

He chuckled lowly at the title. “You being a good girl for my boys?”

“Always.”

Humming his approval, he leaned back in to press his lips against yours in a tender but shorter kiss. Pulling back, he slipped his hand into yours, keeping you by his side as he turned to his sons.

“So… what happened?”

Dean was the one to jump in line and start answering his questions. “It was a trap. I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” John assured him. “I thought it might’ve been.”

“Were you there?”

John nodded, answering Dean’s question. “Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?”

“Yes, sir,” both of his sons answered.

“Good.” John gave a short nod. “Well, it doesn’t surprise me. It’s tried to stop me before.”

It was Sam’s turn to ask questions, “The demon has?”

“It knows I’m close,” John explained. “It knows I’m gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell. Actually kill it.”

The look of confusion but intrigued in Dean’s eyes barely covered the hope lingering there. “How?”

John just smiled. “I’m workin’ on that.”

“Let us come with you. We’ll help,” Sam offered.

Shaking his head, John declined the offer, “No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don’t want you caught in a crossfire. I don’t want you hurt.”

“Dad, you don’t have to worry about us.”

“Of course I do. I’m your father. Your Alpha.” He gave your hand a squeeze before he went on, “Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s good to see you again. It’s been a long time.”

“Too long.”

Hand slipping from yours, John stepped up to his youngest and pulled him into a hug. The two held each other with a different kind of emotion than what he’d shared with Dean moment’s ago.

It happened so fast.

As John and Sam pulled away something came out of nowhere and grabbed them, throwing them across the room. You felt a force grab you, like invisible hands clutching at your arms before you were tossed like a ragdoll against the wall.

Your head collided with the drywall with enough impact that you felt yourself growing dizzy in an instant. You were so caught off guard you could only barely focus on the others as Dean cried out for his family before he too was thrown around.

Claws slashed at your arms, cutting through your jacket as blood began to seep through the wounds. You cried out, screaming as whatever had you did just barely enough damage to make sure you weren’t able to fight back.

“Shut your eyes!” Sam ordered over the chaos. “These things are shadow demons, so let’s light ‘em up!”

Barely having enough time to react, you squeezed your eyes shut just like he’d told you all to do. Behind your eyelids you saw the brightest of lights fill the room as Sam did something to banish the shadow demons. They screeched and screamed as the light erased them from existence momentarily.

Hands were grabbing you again in a matter of seconds, only they were gentler. You could sense they belonged to Sam without needing to open your eyes. Letting him grab you, you let him guide you out of the room as Dean hurried to help John before the four of you rushed out of the hotel as quickly as you could.

Leaning on Sam, your eyes now open, you let him rush you over to Baby. He’d grabbed the duffle bag of supplies before leaving the room at some point. Once he was certain you were steady enough, he let you go and threw the bag into the back of the car before turning his attention back to you.

His hands and eyes searched everywhere, taking in your injuries. “How bad are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, grabbing his hands to stop him.

Letting his hands stop, he watched as yours slipped into his grasp before he gave them a gentle squeeze. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against yours as he let his breathing calm down, along with his rapidly beating heart.

As Dean and John caught up, Sam then pulled away to turn to them. “We don’t have much time. As soon as the flare’s out, they’ll be back.”

Dean shook his head as they came to a stop by the two of you. “Wait, wait, wait! Sam, wait. Dad, you can’t come with us.”

Sam was clearly shocked. “What? What are you talkin’ about?”

“You… you’re beat to hell,” John started to argue.

But Dean was adamant, “We’ll be alright.”

“Dean, we should stick together. We’ll go after those demons-”

He cut Sam off, “Sam! Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don’t you understand? They’re not gonna stop. They’re gonna try again. They’re gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad’s vulnerable when he’s with us. He- he’s stronger without us around.”

Leaning against Baby, you watched the three Alphas, sensing them trying to out scent each other to win the argument. As they stood there it was becoming more and more clear that John was beginning to agree with Dean.

Sam shook his head. “Dad, no.” He reached out to rest his hand on his father’s shoulder. “After everything… after all the time we spent lookin’ for you- Please. I gotta be a part of this fight.”

“Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play,” John explained. “For now, you’ve got to trust me, son. Okay, you’ve gotta let me go.”

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Sam nodded, letting his hand fall from his father’s shoulder in a sign of defeat.

Knowing he could go without either of his sons fighting him on it, John stepped away from them, getting ready to leave. Only before he could walk off to his truck, which was parked at the other end of the ally, he turned to you.

“You should come with me.”

Your mouth gaped open and closed out of shock. “Wha… what?”

“I know you’re hunting with them,” he started. “I know you’re putting yourself in danger, and I know they’re encouraging it. You’ll be safer with me,” he explained as he reached his hand out expectantly, waiting for you to take it and go with him.

The thing is… you would be miserable with him. You knew it, deep down. He would have you locked away in your hotel room, tucked away from anyone who might harm you. Anything that might harm you. But that was harmful in its own way. In a depression, anxiety, bad thoughts and bad mental place kind of way.

But how could you say no to the man who saved your life? Didn’t you owe him everything? Until challenged, he was your Alpha, right? So how were you supposed to deny his request?

No answer came to mind, so you did the one thing your body was screaming at you to do.

Slinking back, you found yourself sliding into Sam’s side as you shook your head. “No.”

John looked at you dumbfounded. He was completely shocked and confused, and you even spotted a hint of betrayal in his eyes. But he didn’t fight you on your decision, and you realised in that moment the two of you were experiencing your first disobedience against him.

Lowering his hand, he turned his back on the three of you and started towards his truck. When he reached it he paused and turned to look at your little group one last time before he got into the truck and drove off.

Sam’s arm wrapped around you as he led you to Baby and guided you into the backseat. Neither of the brothers commented on the decision you’d made as they got into the front. Not even Dean questioned why you’d denied their father as he started the car.

In fact, if you didn’t know any better… you swore you could sense relief in both of them as Dean began to drive off in the opposite direction of their pack Alpha.

Still, Rosita wasn't convinced. "You sure?"

"After we do this, their only choice is to give up," I noted.

"It's risky," Michonne countered. "They could see the truck comin'."

"There weren't any more weapons at the Saviours' warehouse, right? No more rockets for the RPG's. We work with what we got." Tara was on my side, no matter what. We both knew this had to be done.

Vic wouldn't have agreed. Not completely. She still worried about the workers, the people she saw being ruled by the Saviours. She'd spent more time out with them than I had. She'd been closer to living their life- though I was aware she was still treated differently… not like how I was treated though. She might be okay with killing Saviours, but she would not risk the lives of those who couldn't defend themselves.

I knew there was a bigger chance that they were fine, but she would have doubts. Those doubts were part of the reason why I didn't tell her where I was gone. That and the fact I didn't want her anywhere near the Sanctuary or Negan ever again.

"You got me." We all turned to see Morgan walking towards us. "Other snipers, too. Saviours see you comin', we got you covered, whatever it takes. I want it done. I want them done."

"Good." I nodded and turned to Rosita and Michonne again. "So, we doin' this or what?"

"W-Why don't we just wait it out like we planned?" Rosita asked. "Michonne's right. What you're talking about is risky. Things could go bad."

"The truck with the speakers almost took all those walkers away. It almost did go bad. Something else could." Tara wasn't wrong. We didn't know what kind of contingency plans the Saviours had put in place for emergencies.

"Even if it don't, we don't got the Kingdom fighters no more," I added. "I mean, if the Saviours want to put up a fight, we don't got the numbers to make 'em surrender."

"That's why Rick's talking to the Scavengers," Rosita noted, honestly thinking that was a good move.

Tara looked to her. "You got shot. They lied to us. You- you believe 'em now?"

"I believe in Rick Grimes," Rosita countered.

"I could've done something sooner, to end this. I knew about those weapons at Oceanside, and I waited. I didn't do shit about it." Tara wasn't just doing this because of everything she'd lost, but because of what had happened when she hadn't acted before. "With or without you, I'm not letting that happen again."

"Then it's without me." Rosita lifted her shoulder in a short shrug. "I'm out." Pushing off the truck, she started to walk away.

As she passed Morgan, he stopped her. "We got some cars parked near the east-side lookout. You can take one and go home."

Looking back to Michonne, she asked, "You staying? You good with all this?"

"I helped get this started. Got to see it through."

"You think it's easier to come out here and risk, than to stay back there and wait. And I get it, I used to believe that, too. Thing is sometimes, you just have to wait. Sometimes you don't get to know. I just wish it didn't take seeing Sasha walk out of that coffin to realise it." With that, Rosita left.

"Come on." I gestured for the others to follow as I moved to get back into the truck. "Let's go."

CPOV

I opened the manhole outside our walls but still joined up with our sewers. Siddiq looked down before looking back up at me.

"It's just 'til I can talk to my dad." I was all I had to offer.

He nodded, a thankful smile finding its way onto his face. "I appreciate this."

"I'll bring you some supplies. I just have to make sure I don't get caught."

"You don't have to do this," he assured me.

"Yeah, I do."

With a small nod and one last smile, he began to climb down into the tunnels below. I watched and waited until his feet landed on the ground before covering up the manhole. Making sure no one was watching still, I then headed for the wall. I knew it wasn't going to be easy to climb when my side hurt the way it did, but I'd snuck out, so I had to sneak back in.

…

I'd cleaned myself up bandaged up my side as best as I could. I knew there was no real point, though. I knew what my fate was going to be. That was okay though, there was no point in fight or denying it. Instead I was going to spend the rest of what time I had left helping my family and Siddiq.

Dad was going to be pissed when he found out I'd brought him back, but I knew it was the right thing to do. He'd understand eventually.

Turning for the door, I opened it only to find Vickie standing on the other side, her fist lifted, ready to knock.

"Where the hell did you go?"

She glared at me, trying to scold, but I could see the worry behind it. She was always worried about me. The world might've changed but she would always see me as her baby brother.

"I found someone."

"You found someone? What someone? A Saviour?"

"No." I shook my head, trying to explain, "He's just a guy. He was out there on his own. I… I wanted to help him."

She paused, looking me up and down. If she had been anyone else I would expect her to yell. I knew most of our people would be skeptical that he's actually just some random survivor out there. Most would think he'd be a Saviour sent out to spy on us or something. Vickie, however, didn't always think like the others.

"Where is he?"

"Safe. I just… I need to get some supplies. Just a few," I assured her.

Nodding, she stepped aside. "Okay. But next time, don't go off without saying something. I worry about you."

"I know." Smiling, I leaned over to kiss her cheek. "I'll be back soon," I called before hurrying down the hall.

I knew she wouldn't follow. I knew I could trust that she wouldn't tell anyone about me sneaking off, or helping someone, or taking supplies. I knew I could trust her just like she trusted me.

…

Siddiq had everything he needed for now. I'd made sure he had light, some food and water, a travel bed and things to make it a little more comfortable down there. I hadn't managed to get a lot but it would do for now.

I didn't have much time to explain to everyone why I'd brought him. I knew dad was going to be the hardest to convince. That's why I needed him to come back as soon as possible.

"If he's not back soon, we'll meet him there," Tobin assured me as we stood on the lookout by the front gate. "Hopefully, they'll be with him."

I didn't know if the Scavengers would join us. I wasn't sure if I trusted them. They were the least of my worries right now, though. All I wanted, all I needed, was to see my family.

"What about Michonne?" I asked.

I hadn't been able to find her. I'd looked, hoping to maybe start explaining who Siddiq was and why I'd brought him back. But she was nowhere to be found.

"Ah." Reaching into the front pocket of his shirt, Tobin handed me a letter.

I unfolded it, seeing Michonne's handwriting looking up at me.

I had to see it for myself.

I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye first. Will be back soon.

Michonne.

She was gone, and I had no idea when she'd get back. I had no idea if I'd even get to see her again.

NPOV

With Lucille resting on my shoulder, I sat at the table in the meeting room, waiting as Eugene stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Gesturing to one of the other many seats, I waited for him to sit down.

"If things don't get fixed soon, a lot of people are gonna die. My people," I started. "Not me, of course. I'm livin' no matter what. I am too good at this shit. But others I can't have that. I don't want to see people get shot up, chewed up, and chewing up the rest. I don't want to see you get eaten, Eugene."

He watched me intently, with obvious fear and some curiosity.

Getting up, I started towards him before taking a seat on the table. "This place, it's about pooling and organising strength. And you my friend, are strong. That spongy organ between your eyes and your spectacular mullet is strong, and I just want to make sure that you know that I know that."

"Consider me made. Our pages are utterly and completely one and the same," he assured me.

Pushing off the table, I stood before him and offered my hand.

Looking down at it, he hesitated before reaching up to take it… and reaching in to kiss it.

I was quick to stop him by snatching my hand away. "Eugene I was going for a handshake." Embarrassed, he gave a small nod, making me grin out of amusement. "Stand up." As he rose, I took his hand to shake it. "Now, I can see where you'd be confused, as I rarely do that shit. A handshake is a sign of mutual respect. Not many people get that from me."

"There's work that needs getting to." Nodding, he hurried out of the room.

Watching him leave, I wondered if I'd put my respect in the wrong corner. Was he the one helping Rick the prick? Or was he the one who would get us out of this shit show?

DPOV

"Hey, cut that engine," Morgan's voice called through the walkie. "Any closer, you'll draw walkers from the yard."

Stopping the truck, I parked it not too far from the sanctuary. From here we still had a bit of a view, which I checked out with the spyglass before handing it over to Tara.

"You take fire from the windows, we fire back."

"Come on." Tara opened her door and slid out. "There's a spot for cover by the chutes," she noted before walking away, leaving Michonne and me in the truck.

I looked to her. "You up for this?"

"I came here 'cause I wanted to see things for myself. I wanted to know that things were gonna work. But you know what?" She shook her head. "I don't get to know that. None of us do. What I do know is that things are working now. So maybe we just need to trust that things are gonna keep working, because this what we're about to do it's not worth risking us."

"It is for me. Just is." There were so many reasons… some I could never tell anyone else.

"I hope it works. I-I really, really do, but I-I can't do it. I just can't."

"Then you shouldn't."

I wasn't going to be mad at her. I could understand where she was coming from. I could see her points. She didn't have the things driving me. She hadn't been treated like an animal, caged, striped, tortured. She hadn't almost lost her partner to a monster. She knew she had a lot to lose, but it wasn't enough to push her forward and I could understand that.

Slipping out of the truck, she looked to Tara without a word and then turned, heading off in the other direction.

Realising it was just us now, Tara came over to my side of the truck. "We got Morgan and the snipers. We can do this."

"Yeah. We will."

VPOV

I was pissed. I was pacing the kitchen, pissed. Daryl was gone. Michonne was gone. Dad was gone. Carl was going off on his own to save people.

I felt sick.

Hurrying to the bathroom, I dropped to my knees as I threw up in the bowl. The stress of the day had me emptying out the contents of my stomach. My head pounded as every strange scent I came across had my insides churn.

Everything was becoming too much.

"You okay?" Carl asked as he stood in the doorway, watching as I got up and washed my face.

Nodding, I watched him through the mirror. "Just dandy."

He looked down at the ground before meeting my gaze. "I was wondering if… if you wanted to hangout?"

Frowning, I turned to lean on the counter as I studied him carefully. "What's going on, Carl?"

"What do you mean? Can't a brother want to hang out with his sister?"

"That's the thing," I pushed off the counter and started towards him, "we don't get to hangout anymore. Shit's always hitting the fan. We're too busy dodging the next hit to even think about 'hanging out'. So what the hell is going on?"

He sighed, shrugging. "You're right. We don't get to hang out anymore, and I miss it. I missed you when you were gone. And let's face it, you haven't been yourself since you came back. I know you've got secrets, and I know you're not gonna tell me what happened. But I worried about you, and I still do. So I wanna hang out."

I didn't answer right away. Instead I watched him, trying to figure out if he was lying or not. There didn't seem to be any reason why he would lie, though. Everything he said made sense, and to be honest I missed being able to just be brother and sister.

It was tiring being Victoria, daughter of Rick Grimes, wife of Daryl Dixon. The title, the expectation. Even though I'd stepped back from a leading role there was still responsibilities that fell on my shoulders. Honestly, life had become exhausting.

Things were only going to get worse, though. We all knew it. While dad believed the Saviours were going to fold easily after our attacks, I had my suspicions. We wouldn't crack so quickly, so why would they?

Right now I had a moment to just be, and to enjoy the time with my brother. So I was going to enjoy it while I can.

"Okay, we can hang." I softened, smiling at him. "But there's one big difference between now and when we were younger."

"The world fell apart and the dead came back to life?"

"No," I scoffed. "Now I'm a mum. Which means it's a package deal."

He shrugged. "Sounds perfect."

CPOV

Vickie sat on the porch, helping Aly press her painted hand-print on the porch along with mine, Judith and Vickie's. The hand-prints were all blue, but each a different size. It brought a small and sad smile to my lips.

They didn't know. No one knew yet. I didn't want to worry them. I didn't want to distract anyone.

Tell people I was dying was only going to make things worse. So, instead, I wanted to leave my mark. It's why I wanted to hang out with my sisters and my niece. I wanted the girls to remember me, and I wanted Vickie to just… I wanted her there.

She was my best friend. We'd been through hell together. We'd always been close. I knew she was still a mess from losing Glenn and Abraham, and I knew being taken to the Sanctuary had done a number on her. Losing me was only going to make things worse. I didn't want her last memories of me to be anything other than this.

I wanted her to remember me as I sat on the rocking chair on the porch, rocking Judith on my lap. I wanted her to remember me as I told jokes to Aly and pulled funny faces at her. I wanted her to remember me as I played fetch with Houdini. I wanted her to remember the good, the mundane.

"Oh!" Aly suddenly jumped to her feet. "I have a great idea!" She beamed before hurrying to head inside.

"Wash your hands before you touch anything!" Vickie called out to her.

Aly didn't call back or answer, but she was a good kid. She'd do as she was told.

"You're a good mum." I smiled at my sister. "Mum would be proud."

She looked down at her lap, a smile teasing her lips as if she wasn't sure if she wanted to smile or not. "Sometimes I worry she'd disagree with how I raise her. How things turned out."

I just shook my head. "No, I know she'd be proud. She was always proud of us."

Vickie had come a long way since we'd lost Mum. She'd barely been able to talk back then. Things had been so disconnected and scrambled for her. I'd never really thought about what it must've been like for her.

Sure, I had been the one to kill her. I'd been the one to end things before she had come back to life. It had always haunted me, and part of me was glad I would finally be able to rest without having nightmares of that day. But Vickie was going to have to live with it.

"Daryl wants a baby."

My eyes went wide as I stared at her in shock, having not expected those words. I didn't respond. I wasn't sure I even knew what to say.

She sighed, pushing herself off the ground as she used a rag to wipe the blue paint from her hand. Leaning against the railing of the porch, she looked out at our neighbourhood with a sad look in her eyes.

"Dr Carson said there's a good chance I can't get pregnant. Didn't say it was impossible, but there's so much scarring from everything I've been through…" Her gaze dropped. "Daryl doesn't know."

A furrow grew on my brow. "You haven't told him?" She simply shook her head. "Why not?"

"Because I feel broken." She shrugged, looking out at the field in front of our home. "Because I feel like the chances are so low that there's no way it'll happen. But I don't want to tell him because I know he wants it, more than anything. Pretty sure he wants a baby more than he wants Negan dead," she scoffed.

"Do… do you want a baby?"

Looking over her shoulder, she smiled. "Yes."

They were perfect parents, Daryl and Vickie. In the world we lived in, they'd done a great job raising Aly. She was as strong as she needed to be for her age- which I wasn't entirely sure what that was, but she wasn't any older than 6. She knew how to take an order when needed. If things got bad you could count on her to stay safe until she was allowed out.

At the same time, though, she was still sweet and innocent. It was hard to stay like that as a kid growing up in the hell we lived in.

The front door opened then as Aly rushed out, carrying her polaroid camera. "Look!" She held it up in the air. "I thought we could take some pictures."

I smiled at her as she came over to my chair, a little out of breath. "That sounds like a great idea."

DPOV

"I'm here. I'm ready," Tara's whispered voice came through the walkie once she was closer to the gates of the Sanctuary.

"South lookout ready for go," Morgan's voice followed, closely by the other snipers'.

"East lookout, ready."

"North lookout, ready."

"West lookout, ready."

Once I knew everyone was in position and ready, I started forward. "Now," I called through the walkie.

Just a few seconds later, I heard gunshots.

They came from the Sanctuary. I wasn't sure what was happening, because I couldn't see a damn thing, but I had no doubt they'd seen and heard the truck, and they were trying to stop it. That added a new level to the situation.

With the snipers, Saviours, and Tara shooting at each other, I had no choice but to speed up as I headed straight for the Sanctuary. Once I neared where Tara was waiting, I grabbed the cinder block and shifted my foot over to replace it with the brick. Then I jumped out of the truck.

Running over to a turned over car, I hid from the walkers and watched as the truck crashed into the wall and opened up a spot for the walkers to head into the Sanctuary.

"Daryl, you're clear to the south. You and Tara should head home," Morgan suggested through the walkie.

Not wasting the opportunity, I gestured for Tara to follow before we both ran up the road, away from the chaos, and started towards the waiting vehicles so we could get back home.

NPOV

Eugene had laid out his plan to get everyone the hell out of the fucked up situation we'd been put in. I wasn't a hundred percent sold on the idea, but the look on his face was pissed and determined… a great combination.

"It'll take an ass-load of ammo," I noted.

He gave a short nod. "It will. Even with shot discipline and P and Q minding."

"Can my bullet maker fill my guns back up?"

"If you give my machines to me or me to my machines that is an affirmative."

Pacing the room, I grinned at him as I watched to see his reaction to my next comment. "You do realise the storm of shit I'm gonna dump on Rick as soon as I am clear of the shit storm he dumped on me."

"I do, indeed." He didn't even flinch.

"Goddamn, Eugene. How does it feel to be the second-most important person here? How does it feel to save these good people?"

"It feels great." His lips tugged up into the slightest of smiles. "Got something else of urgency for you. Another item solved."

"More than a way out and a promise of bullets on the way? Jesus, Eugene, you are magnificent."

"I am."

"So, what is it? Tell me." Before he could say anything, however, there was a knock on the door. "What?"

"We have the stairs," Regina stated as she walked in, followed by Dwight and a few other Saviours. "But the dead ones have the lower level. The whole thing.

I wasn't worried. Not anymore. "Not much longer. See, Eugene has solved us a way out of this mess. And he actually says he has a topper."

"Yeah?" Dwight looked to Eugene, waiting to hear what he might have to say.

Eugene paused a moment before speaking. "I think I could fix the intercom system. Which, uh would absolutely change the face of communications here."

I'd be lying if I wasn't disappointed by that anticlimactic information. "That's it?"

"Sorry. That kind of thing, uh well, cranks my shaft," he mumbled as he turned to leave the room. "I'll leave you to the last action item."

RPOV

The doors to the storage container opened again, only this time it was just one guy outside. He grabbed me by my bound wrists and neck, pulling me to stand in front of him before leading me out into the open area surrounded by garbage. Across from us was another storage container, a closed one.

Pushing me down to my knees, he ignored me as ai struggled, watching and waiting for something to happen.

The other storage container opened… and a walker was walked out.

It was naked like I was, its wrists bound behind its back unlike how mine were tied in front. A metal headpiece had been crafted onto its head, making it harder to kill. The added spikes were just another level of complication. On the back of the headpiece was a metal rode, being held to control the walker.

Jadis stopped beside the person holding the rode controlling the walker. Her eyes set on me. "Time for after."

Still being held down, I began to struggle more as the walker was moved towards me. When it was just a few feet away I quickly threw my bound hands up and back, punching the Scavenger behind me, and then rolled away.

The person controlling the walker hadn't expected me to move so fast, which meant they lost control. As they tried to collect themselves and the walker, I took the opportunity to get up and knock them out of the way as well. Then I grabbed the rod.

"Subdue!" Jadis ordered.

Now in control of the walker, I didn't use it against the Scavengers. Instead I used the rode to add force to my punches to keep them away. The more I moved the rode, however, the more the walker's head began to tear off.

Once the head was free I was more free to use the rod, which made it easier to knock the Scavengers to the ground hard enough to keep them there. Then I went for Jadis.

She pulled out a gun. As she went to shoot me I moved faster, grabbing her hands to aim the gun at the ground. She struggled, pulling the trigger a few times as she tried to get it aimed at me again, but in the end I managed to push her down to the ground and pull the weapon from her grasp.

Grabbing her neck, I edged her closer to the snapping jaws of the walker's head which lay just a few inches away.

"I'm walking out now, and me walking out means all of you die," I called to all the Scavengers, seeing them itching to help but not risking it when I was so close to killing their leader. "My people. There's a lot of them. Won't attack today, but we will attack. You can play your games, draw your pictures, sculpt whatever shit you want, but I am leaving! After that maybe you should just run." Looking down at Jadis, I asked, "We done?"

"Yes." She nodded quickly but tightly against my grip.

Letting her go, I stood back and watched as she got to her feet again. I was fully expecting them to try something else, but I was hoping I'd proved enough that I wouldn't go down without a fit.

"Join you. What then?" Jadis asked.

"The Sanctuary is surrounded. Walkers. 20 deep around the compound," I reminded her. "You'll come with me there we'll wait till the others meet us. When they do, we'll ask the lieutenants to surrender. All of us, together. Then I kill Negan, me alone. We have a deal?"

"After, Saviours' things our things. Yes and yes," she tried bargaining.

"It'll be all of ours. You'll get a fourth."

"Half."

"A fourth." I wasn't bending this time. She gets a fourth, or nothing.

"Fourth, and I sculpt you after. Stand for me, those off." He gestured to the last of my clothes, my boxers.

"These off," I lifted my hands and nodded to the rope tied around my wrists, "no sculpting. My boots and my clothes now."

"Fourth," she grumbled. After a pause, though, she calmed herself down. "Fourth."

DPOV

I had a feeling I was going to be in the shit when I returned home. Entering the gates, something in my gut told me Vic knew I'd left and she was pissed. Honestly, I'd expected it. I knew my actions would have come with consequences and her temper was a possible one. It was worth it, though. I had to go to the Sanctuary. I had to finish it.

Off in the distance I spotted Michonne and Judith under a tree.

Michonne knelt on the ground, smiling down at Judith as the little girl played with a stuffed bear. "We'll be back soon," Michonne assured her, smiling so as not to worry the little girl. "I'll bring your daddy, too, okay? Can you say bye-bye?"

"Bye-bye," Judith said in return, making Michonne's smile grow.

Leaning forward, Michonne gave her a kiss. "Bye." Pausing one more moment to watch the little girl, she then stood and headed my way. "Hey."

"Hi." I nodded at her, watching as she stopped in front of me.

"I'm glad you came back. It's better we go out there together."

"It worked. We'll roll in, tell them to give up. They're gonna give up." I was sure of it.

She took a breath. "I'm sorry. I couldn't."

"Don't be. It worked."

That's all that mattered. Knowing that the win was waiting for us to take it. Knowing no more of our people had to die. She didn't need to be there for the middle part. She just had to be there for the end.

We all did. Even Vic.

I didn't want her anywhere near Negan, but I wanted her to come with us now. To see what we'd done. To see the place that had torn her down and tore me apart was in pieces. I wanted her to see she would never have to step foot in that place again.

No one, none of them, were ever going to touch her again.

RPOV

I led Jadis and her people towards the Sanctuary. We couldn't see it yet, but I knew we were getting close. Gesturing for them to stay back, I started towards the water tower… and stopped when I spotted the three walkers eating one of my people.

After dealing with the walkers, I grabbed the sniper's walkie and sent out a radio message to the others. "Snipers, report in. This is Rick Grimes. Does anybody copy?" There was no response.

Looking up at the water tower, I decided to head up to get a look of the situation. Grabbing the rifle the sniper had dropped, I started the climb and turned to the Sanctuary. What I saw had my blood run cold.

The walkers were all dead.

Lifting the walkie to my mouth again, I tried for a response one more time… but deep down I knew there would be none. "North, West, South, report."

Somehow, the Saviours had gotten out, and if that was the case they'd be out for blood.

Hurrying down the water tower, I ran back the Jadis and the others. I didn't tell them what was going on because I didn't want them to betray me again. Instead I just told them to follow me before we started towards the Sanctuary. With each step, I just kept praying the Saviours hadn't had time to leave yet.

The closer we got, though, the obvious things became. The Saviours were gone.

Seeing all the dead walkers, Jadis turned to me. "Different from picture."

Right then, people began to shoot at us. We all ducked away, Jadis going right while I jumped left.

"Jadis!" I called. "It's coming from the window! We hit it and fall…" as I looked around my barrier to her, I saw the Scavengers running away, leaving me behind, "back."

Just as I began contemplating making a break for it myself, knowing the chances of me getting hit were high, a car sped around the corner and stopped close by.

I jumped up and made a break for it as Carol opened the door for me. Once inside, I yelled, "Go!"

Putting her foot on the gas, she got the hell out of there.

"They got out. It hasn't been long. We have to warn everyone. They're gonna hit back," I noted as Carol sped down the road.

"We can get the cars near the East lookout and split up," she suggested.

"Might have to find other rides. The snipers probably used theirs to get away," Jerry- who sat in the passenger seat- countered.

I shook my head. "I don't think they got away." If one sniper had been killed and left for the walkers, I got the feeling the others had, too.