He wasn't sure if he was a better man now. But he felt like maybe, just maybe, he could become one.

Negan let out a pondering sigh, lazily watching Dwight exit from the door just to his right, heading across the lot, gun strap slung over his shoulder.

The scarred blonde man glanced up almost reflexively, offering the tall watching man a reverent nod, before swiftly moving over to the gates to bark orders at a couple of workers who were in the middle of shifting what looked like a rather heavy part of broken fence.

But Dwight had only been there a moment or two before Negan noticed him stare quickly up at something on the others side of the the gates, shielded from view of him now.

An in an instant, the blonde man and two of the other Saviours had given a sudden yell and pulled the guns from their shoulders, pointing them at something approaching.

Negan at once frowned, his gloved fingers tensing around the smooth handle of this trusted baseball bat as he watched on....

....just as an unfamiliar truck pulled up to the gates with a soft screech of brakes.

Negan saw at once that this was not one of their vehicles, and straight away knew that there was something wrong.

People didn't just show up unannounced like this. For it was surely no secret that the Saviours did not welcome uninvited guests with tea and fucking cake.

Dwight gave another inaudible yell, approaching the truck at lightning speed, his gun raised and pointed towards the shadowed figure sat up in the front seat.

Negan gave a thirsty growl, his eyes blackening, a glint of gleeful menace appearing there in his shark-like gaze.

For he knew that this was surely gonna be a bloodbath.

Because who the fuck just pulled up to the Saviours gates like this? For what? To demand an audience with him?

No. This was an act of war surely. And the asshole in the driver's seat wasn't gonna live to tell the tale.

"Who the fuck is it?" Negan barked at Dwight.

From here he could only make out a shadowed movement behind the windscreen, as Dwight approached the vehicle, stopping at the side of the truck to peer inside, gun pointed at the glass window.

But there came no answer from Dwight.

And Negan's frown only deepened, watching in confusion now, as the blonde man hovered for a second...

...before slowly but surely lowering his gun.

Negan gave a growl beneath his breath, watching as Dwight slowly turned towards Negan, looking completely unsure.

What the fuck?

Was this incompetence? Or fucking fear?

Whatever it was, Negan was done with this bullshit.

He let out a sudden loud and carrying huff, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand in frustration.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he groaned "If I want a job done right, I've really gotta fuckin' do it msyelf, don' I?"

And with that, Negan pushed himself from the railing, lifting Lucille up onto his shoulder as he walked slowly down the steps.

But by the time he'd got to the very bottom, everyone at the far end of the lot was now stood still, staring awkwardly over at their fearsome leader.

"Bunch of fuckin' incompetent jackasses," he grumbled.

He didn't have a fucking clue what was happening here. But what he did know, was that his blood was boiling in his veins. His knuckles now white and tensed hard around Lucille's smooth handle.

Shit, who the fuck would have the fucking ability to cause Negan's own men to back down like this?

A leader of an opposing camp? A damn rival?

Well whoever it was, they were gonna feel the full wrath of him, and Negan was no longer in the mood to pay fucking nicely.

But he didn't have to wait long for an answer....

Because before he was even a couple of steps across the expansive asphalt lot, the doors on either side of the truck sprang open, and two figures stepped out....the mere sight of both of them enough to cause Negan to stop in his tracks, his boots halting on the dusty ground beneath his feet..

Negan was silent for a moment, before he arched his back giving a dark grimace, as his eyes settled on, not only that damn woman from Alexandria, back yet again to fuck things up for him no doubt. But stepping out from the passenger side was a person Negan recognised pretty fuckin' well indeed and had been almost certain he would never see at the Sanctuary again...

Carl -fucking- Grimes.

"Oh you had better be jokin'," Negan marvelled, leaning back on his heels, a mixture of amusement and annoyance passing over his features, looking at his men now. "You really all tellin' me you stood your asses down for Rick the Prick's lil' one-eyed pride an' joy, and the damn gal who broke her way in here an' caused you to almost got your asses handed to you by those dead pricks?"

But Negan's loyal men, to his utter irritation, remained silent, lowering their eyes to the ground.

By now he was almost seething.

He didn't have a clue what was going on and wasn't about to stand around long enough to find out.

And so with his chin lowered and his eyes flashing dangerously, Negan dug his cheek with his tongue and stalked towards the pair of intruders.

This was the last fucking straw. And as much as he tolerated that little shit Carl, the kid needed to grow the fuck up and learn that turning up without being invited, wasn't the way things were done around here.

Maybe it was Blake getting shot that had caused Negan to feel like this. But right now he n longer cared. He was done with giving people second fucking chances. Absolutely done.

But Negan, on his long legs marching with purpose across the lot, didn't get far...suddenly hearing the click of door handle just ahead of him......and seeing the door directly behind Carl on the passenger's side of the truck open....

And Negan could only blink up, staring in shock at the person who stepped out, disbelief passing over his features.

Without even realising what he was doing, Negan quickly lowered Lucille from his shoulder, his eyes searching the gorgeous face of the person before him in confusion, as she tuned now to look at him, her own face a picture of concern.

And Negan found that in that moment he could only utter a single word, a frown line hanging between his dark eyebrows...

"Peaches?"

I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand, PeachesWhere stories live. Discover now