"I wish we could just stay out here forever." He said, his fist tangled in the knots of shrubbery and blossomed stems. The wind brushed through his soft hair slightly, causing him to stop what he was doing every few minutes and tuck it back into place.
One of his hands stayed firmly on his gun - the one that was fastened to his left thigh at all times.
The meadow: a beautiful, calm place, where they could just be. No strings, no chords, just the sound of the birds and their brittle breaths. The place was brimmed with illusion, causing Jane to rethink everything for just a little while. It was so filled with safety and nurturing prospects that it's power lay in the delusion of the enjoyer itself. Here, you could forget anything horrible had ever, or could ever, plague you. That was it's true strength.
Every half hour or so, a walker would mindlessly wander it's way into the flower beds, crushing the bulbs and sprouts haphazardly beneath it's dead weight. A torn hand would reach out for one of them, ready to nip or snap at any moment. They'd kill it, drag it back into the cover of the pines, and wait till the next one came along.
Occasionally, the walkers were young - not quite taken back by the world as others had been. Most times, though, they would be almost nothing: a combination of only dust and blood. How far had they travelled? Where did they come from? Who were they?
These questions provoked the two, that lay in the grass beneath the sun.
Right now, they were wondering if any of this was right. And yet, the only conclusion they were close to was their gratitude towards being able to sit and wonder. To have the space and time to step back, and look at things from a distance.
Their trip back from hilltop had been around two days ago now, if anyone was counting. All they had done was fix up old guns and listen to Rick argue about battle plans. The kids knew the ins and outs of his scheme, so much so that it would be burned into their heads for years to come.
'Sit like bait', he would say to them. 'They won't suspect it'.
Carl and Jane patched things up after their last argument, but hadn't really spoken as much as they normally would. Now, all there was to do is speak.
Talk each others ears off about the plan, and what comes after. Reassure one another that everything would be okay and that they'd both be together again in a few hours. Yet, none of those usual topics seemed to sprout from her lips. Instead, something unsteady was growing in her stomach - Something loud and perspicuous.
It had crept up on her this morning, as Carl and her left the house quietly to escape for a little while. This weird, sixth sense.
Since then, all that could come of her thoughts were scenarios of death, death and more death. Not really hers - just of others she loved. What would happen.
She'd become so desensitised that these thoughts barely got to her. Barely.
But the image of Carl's death was never easy to process. Sometimes, it was Negan, swinging Lucille and bringing it down on his soft, brown hair. The barbs of her wire would get tangled in the strands of his innocence, and his blood would stain her precious wood grain surface. Other times, it was a walker, tearing into his flesh like all he was, was.....bait.
"Yeah. Me too." She finally replied, swallowing the saliva that had gathered in her mouth.
A long pause ensued between them, and for the first time in a long time - it felt awkward. And when she could feel the words rising up from her throat, she knew it was just going to get worse. A hand almost flew to her mouth then - a flimsy attempt of shielding her thoughts from Carl.
"I just...." She began. Carl shifted his gaze toward her as they lay in the bed of grass.
"What?" He asked, his eyebrow furrowing apologetically.
"I just have a weird feeling, that's all. I'm sure it's nothing." She said, jerking her fingers through a loose dandelion's stem. A gust of wind came, blowing all the seeds from the plant and wishing them away into nothing.
"Come here," he whispered, holding his arms out for her. Waiting for her. No. Something was wrong. Incredibly wrong.
Yet, she slid into his arms with no hesitation, laying her head on his chest as it rose and fell in the brisk air.
"I don't know if my dad's plan is going to work. But, I trust him with my life. I know you do, too. I mean, how much shit has he got us through?" He said, lacing his lean fingers through her loose braid.
"A whole lot." She said confidently, though, still unsure on something.
"I'm not sure it's him I don't trust. I think it's that....i don't trust myself. I don't know. It's hard to explain."
"I trust you. Maybe even more than I trust my dad." He said, looking down at her though she couldn't see it.
"Really?" She asked, a supple amount of disbelief evident in her voice.
"My dad definitely trusts you too. That's why you're upfront today and not cooped up inside watching Judith like Enid or Ellie would be. No offence to them."
He added, shifting upwards a little. He reached up, placing his hat on his face like he was sleeping.
"I'll tell them you said that," she said, laughing.
"No, but seriously. You're not weak, Jane. You never have been."
But am I too strong?
They packed up their things around twenty minutes later, though they never really wanted to leave. The meadow stayed quiet as they left, and likely would remain that way forever as they fought for their lives. They got back over the wall before anyone was even up, but didn't feel the need to go back to bed.
Carl sat at the kitchen table for awhile, dismantling and fixing up his gun with wrenches and Allan keys. Jane washed all the dishes for Rick - trying to keep her mind off of anything to do with violence. Inevitably, she just ended up sitting next to Carl, helping him with his reconstruction.
The two had learned of Rosita and Sasha's departure last night, when Michonne and Rick had been talking loudly downstairs. Honestly, Jane admired the girls for their departure. She wasn't worried about either of them, as they could hold their own, but rumour was spreading that Rosita had come back alone.
Alone was never good.
That was when the door burst open, and in stormed Jesus, Rick, Dwight, Rosita and Daryl. Clearly they'd been out doing something, because ground seemed to tear up and follow them into the space - as anger tore at their faces. Something (or someone) was in disagreement.
"They have Sasha, if she's even alive." Rick spat, swinging his hips like he always did.
"Why didn't you say something?" Jesus said, whispering in closer to Rick as to not alarm the others. Jane and Carl exchanged knowing glances as the others argued in the distance. Rick's eyes seemed to widen as Jesus kept talking, and when his pupil's darted right to his son's, both knew something was up. The next sound that ensued was Carl's chair screeching beneath him, as he stood up straight.
Jane felt one arm grasp to his wrist, again - like it always did. She wasn't sure why this time.
"He could be our only chance to get her back." Jesus suddenly said, pointing at Dwight. Jane felt the hairs on her arm rise as she met his eyes. She remembered the way he appeared all those months ago. Scared. Scared of her.
"Because I don't trust him. But I trust Daryl. Negan's coming soon. Tomorrow. Three trucks probably.
20 saviors and him. I can slow them down, bring some trees down in the road, buy a little time for you guys to get ready. If you can take them out, that's where we start. You kill them, I'll radio back to the sanctuary." Rosita listed, spreading her hands over their dining table.
"The sanctuary?" Jesus asked.
"Where negan lives. That's what they call it." Jane said, causing every adult in the room to turn their attention in her direction.
"Why don't you two go on upstairs. You're already more involved than I'd like you to be." Rick said, looking at Carl again. The teenager nodded, though he so wanted to kick up a fuss. To tell his dad it wasn't fair to keep hiding things from them like this. Yet, he didn't, following Jane up to his room leaving a mess of metal and gun parts on the crass wood.
"So we don't have oceanside, but we have their guns.
Negan has Sasha. Daryl wants us to trust Dwight. Dad wants us to stay here in case things go wrong so there's another card to play, another safe place
the saviors think they control." Carl repeated, pacing his room back and forth after Rick had run down their situation a few times. "And it's all about to happen." He finished.
She sighed, looking up at him from the foot of his bed.
"All we can do is obey your dad."
"If negan finds out we're planning something, were gonna need help, even with those scavengers on our side. Hilltop could step in, but there's no time to contact Maggie-"
She shut him up by placing her lips on his, and breaking away simply. His eyes drew stars as they stared back down to her, like he was looking at an angel beneath him.
"Okay, I'll stop." He finally said, pressing his forehead to hers.
She set her gun up to the wall, resting the chamber between the metal and her calloused fingers. It made a slight scraping sound as it clicked in place, her finger
Darting to the trigger. Negan was here. Or, at-least, his people.
Carl kneeled beside her, steadying his gun similarly as the scavengers stood their guard behind. They were both up and personal with the front line, where they wanted to be. Where they needed to be.
"Rosita. Get into position. I'll signal you." Rick told her down below.
"And the wall's gonna hold?" She asked, worry laced through her words.
"It'll hold." He stated, before climbing up to meet Jadis and the kids on the brink of the wall.
That was when the trucks stopped and all the saviours filed out, including Eugene. One thing was clear: there was no Negan. Surprisingly, Jane didn't come anywhere near being happy to see him.
"All points are covered. Every contingency is already met. I come armed with two barrels of the truth. A test is upon you, and I'm giving out the cheat sheet. I come salved with the hope that it is my dropped knowledge
that you heed. Options are zero to none. Compliance and fealty are your only escape. Bottom-lining it -
you may thrive, or you may die. I sincerely wish
for the former for everyone's sake. The jig is up and in full effect. Will you comply, Rick?"
In his hand was a large megaphone, that stretched his voice to every possible corner of Alexandria. His words, articulated and clean, hit Rick in the face - causing an unpleasant grimace to spread over his lips.
Then, he said the two words everyone was thinking.
"Where's Negan?"
A long pause ensued, and Jane noticed Eugene clearing his throat. One of two things was about to happen: he would tell them, and quit being a coward, or he would stand there and babble like an idiot too intelligent to know his wrongs.
"I'm negan." He said, and the world went silent. Rosita's face twisted to anger as she shook her head in disbelief. Her finger pressed down tight on the trigger button, and they all darted behind the wall, getting on their hands and knees- waiting for the noise. Waiting for the end.
But nothing came.
They waited and waited for the bangs and shots, but nothing ultimately rang out. For the first time, Jane felt herself longing to hear the screams of agony and the crackling of fire. When 2, maybe 3 minutes had gone by, she opened her eyes to look around. The first pupil's she met were Carl's - scared and darting as they levelled with hers.
They couldn't speak. They couldn't move. They just sat, in this shared feeling of.....shit.
Then, just when things couldn't get worse, every gun that was in possession of the scavengers seemed to click in unison. Jane felt the weight of a gun pressed behind her head, and out of the corner of one eye, she could see one pressed to Carl's too.
The group looked around in bewilderment, as they were casually held hostage by people on their side. A few dropped their guns, but Rick, Carl and Jane kept their fingers firmly on the release.
The only thing that made this all the more horrible was the sound of Negan's gravelling laugh. It took three scavengers to roll open the gates, but when it was done, the saviours just waltzed right in like they owned the place.
"You ever hear the one about the stupid little prick named Rick who thought he knew shit but didn't know shit? and got everyone he that gave a shit about killed?" He sang. "It's about you."
As the group slowly stood up, he began to talk more and more. About the guns, about Sasha. His hands seemed to point to a roped up coffin on the back of his truck as he told them about her marvellous entrance. He wanted so much from them, so, so much. He wanted their guns. Their dignity. Even the pool table. In return for Sasha.
"You know what, Rick? You suck ass. You really do. I don't want to kill her but that's exactly what you're gonna make me do!" He yelled out in frustration, tapping the coffin with his bat.
"Let me see her." Rick said calmly, and Jane heard Carl's breath hitch.
Negan paused, grinning.
"Alright. Just give me a second, I'm gonna have to get her up to speed. You can't hear shit in there." He proceeded to hit the coffin once again, the wood clanging against the metal as he spoke to her.
"Sash, you're not gonna believe-"
The door swung open, and he leapt back in surprise. Outwards came a grasping, clearly dead - Sasha. Her teeth had rotted to brown and her skin a pale maroon. Her eyes turned lifeless as she screamed at Negan, clambering on-top of him and throwing him to the ground.
All Jane could think about was Sophia, coming out of that barn, and how similar everything was.
Carl had already shot the man behind him, and just when Jane was about to do the same, a man cocked her in the head with his gun, sending splitting pain down her temple. She stumbled over a little, but quickly came to her senses, pulling the trigger of her AR and spraying him in the dick, before kicking him off the platform altogether. Carl just stood watching - giving her a simple nod when she noticed him there. Then, the sound of more bullets firing sent them rushing back down to the ground, ducking behind a car to avoid getting nipped by a bullet.
Jane watched Rosita and Daryl fight off two scavengers at once, easily gunning them down. The noises were loud, which made it almost impossible to tell where the shots were coming from. Everyone was everywhere, yet, no one was around. The ground thrummed with malice and intent, and the air buzzed along with the routine of shells hitting the floor.
Jane got up to exit their cover, appearing out from the safety of the car - but Carl stopped her, grabbing her wrist.
"What are you doing?!" He whisper-yelled.
"I'm not just gonna sit here and watch my friends die."
And with that, she left, immediately shooting down anyone that came close. Thankfully, She could recognise scavenger from Alexandrian, so things were okay. She began to pick up speed, belting through the gunfire as Carl followed her.
When she hit her third kill, she was starting to feel a little remorseful. She killed these people like it was nothing. But, she shrugged the thought off, because technically they had tried to kill her first. Or worse, Carl first. Now she didn't feel so sorry.
Bullets spit at their feet, and she looked up, only to see Jadis firing down at them from the watchtower.
"Carl! Get down-" she began to yell, but was cutoff by a fist coming in contact with her face. She jutted down, towards the jagged earth, her jaw smashing against the concrete below. The harshness of the attack tumbled throughout her body, screaming at her, telling her to get up - but she was too surprised to move, frozen on the floor. She didn't know where Carl was now, if he was even conscious. Or alive.
Something, someone, began to clamber atop of her, placing their hands roughly on her neck and pushing down with only one thumb. Then she felt it, she felt the air leave her lungs, she felt the blood spilling from her body. Everything was so warm, yet the hairs seemed to stand up all over her legs and arms. She clasped at the hands that had her life in them, clawing and scratching but she couldn't see. Hot, red, sticky blood stained the whites of her eyes as she drowned in it. In all of it. She hadn't been used to being taken out this easy, but was it really easy?
"Stop! I want her alive," a voice seemed to say, but Jane didn't hear it. She was already gone.
Her. All he could look at was her as he was dragged away, pulled by two saviours who could hardly hold him back. He couldn't see anyone else, just her. Her body seemed to get smaller and smaller until a saviour snaked his arms around her neck and picked her up. His hands gripped tight as ever to her knees, and he just wanted to kill him. He wanted to tear him apart for even laying a finger on her, he wanted to scream at him and take her away, back to the meadow. Was she dead? He didn't know. He couldn't know, from here.
Before he had known anything about it, he was on his knees beside his father. A few saviours surrounded them, watching closely as the situation unfolded.
She was still out cold, and Negan's bat was so close to his head. Surely she wouldn't be out for too long. Maybe she would wake up. Just maybe.
"Well, shit, Rick. You just couldn't stick with us, huh?
You had to go with these filthy garbage people?
No offense." He bellowed.
"Deal is for 12, yes?" Jadis yelled, her gun pointing to Rick's head. Ricks attention strayed from the limp girl, and his eyes glued to Lucille.
"10." Negan replied. "People are a resource." He added.
They argued back and forth until Negan lay on a firm 10. Carl swallowed, grimacing up at the man before flitting his eyes back and forth to his girl, who had salty blood streaming from her ears again.
"Rick. This is just gonna make you sad. Broken.
You're gonna wish you were dead. I like having fun.
I do. But maybe you think that the guy that did what he did to your friends wasn't me, like that was some sort of a put-on, like I'm not the guy with the bat - I'm just the guy that makes your kid spaghetti. Oh." Negan paused, forcing himself into ricks face.
"Oh, shit. Maybe this is on me. Maybe this is all on me." He said. "I gotta make it right. I guess I gotta start all over again. I gotta tell you, Rick, if I had a kid, I'd want whoever they were to be just like one of your kids, whether it's her," he pointed to Jane, scoffing, "or Carl."
"which makes this so much harder. You're not gonna win. Carl. It is over. Why don't you point your one ball
up the street there and take it all in?"
This was it. He was going to die. He was finally going to die for everyone else, for Michonne. For dad. For Jane. It would end everything - fix it, maybe. Jane might not even be alive currently, let alone in a few hours. If he was dead too, it wouldn't hurt so much.
"We'll win! We live! We're the ones! Us!" Rick said, choking on his own spit. He seemed to speak it unconvincingly - like he didn't believe his own words.
That was when a bloodcurdling scream and a deafening crash sounded from the other side of Alexandria. Where Michonne was.
Rick just trembled where he sat, but he found no tears coming from his eyes. Carl managed to muster a few, for Michonne, and for Jane. When this was done, surely, he would cry them a river. He'd flood the world.
"Ohh. Oh. Wow. You just lost somebody important to you right now-like, just now. And, Jane's on the verge of it too...wow. You must be going through it! Jesus.
That is timing. Well, Rick...You chose this."
Carl took a breath in, closing his eyes tight.
Don't kill her. Don't kill her. Don't.
That would've been his last thought.
"I truly don't know what more i could've done to warn you. And this isn't a warning. This is punishment.
I'm gonna kill Carl now. I'm gonna make it one nice, hard swing, try to do it in one because I like him. I just want you to put that in your brain and roll it around
for a minute. I'm gonna kill Carl, and, maybe Jane if I'm feeling like it. Then Lucille here, she's gonna take your hands."
"You can do it right in front of me. You can take my hands. I told you already - I'm gonna kill you. All of you.
Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow...But nothing is
gonna change that - nothing.
You're all already dead."
Carl kept his eyes sewn shut, ready for the blow. He didn't think. He didn't speak. He just listened, and waited.
Because of this, he didn't notice Jane was awake. And angry.
"Damn. Wow, Rick. Okay. You said I could do-"
He stopped. Why did he stop?
"What the-" he yelled out, and that was when Carl Grimes opened his eyes to see Jane Peletier, wide awake.
Her eyes were red and blotchy, but he could see the anger through them. The pain. Mounds of blood seemed to come from nowhere, managing to stain every inch of her white shirt. She was breathing heavily, the air hitching in her throat with each intake. Carl followed Rick's eyes down to Jane's arm, which was holding on tightly to something - her knife.
Which was embedded in Negan's shoulder.
She yanked it out of it's place, without saying a word, watching as Negan clutched his arm in agony. She went to get him again, every stroke of anger powering the lash that should've killed him. His skin seemed to fold under her blade like dough, twisting around the knife and hugging it tight.
Inevitably, he managed to duck away from the swing, landing on his now bad shoulder. She wasted no time in kicking him in the stomach, volleying her foot into the side of his rib cage.
"STOP!" Someone yelled, and to her surprise, she felt the cold click of a gun shoved behind her head.
She stopped, swivelling her head round slowly to face the man. It was Dwight. Behind him were 10 or more others, holding their guns up along with him.
Fuck.
"Fucking shoot," Negan said, his breath thickening.
But Dwight hesitated.
if I play this right, I can get out. We could win.
He still hadn't pulled the trigger, but there was a line of men waiting to behind him. She caught a glimpse of Carl in the corner of her eye, and immediately wished she hadn't. His eyes were dark and littered with tears, his eyebrows perched on his face sorrowfully.
There was no way to tell him she'd be okay, so she stayed quiet and hid her eyes from him.
"Go on." She ordered. Dwight stood shaking behind her, the gun resting wrongly in his hand. Why couldn't he do it?
Then, there it was. The click and bang, the pull and release. Carl screamed out, something she couldn't understand. The bullet brushed her shoulder, slicing through a small amount of skin creating more and more bloodstain. She had managed to avoid the worst of it, but the worst of it was surely to be next. The worst of it was forever now.
Without thinking, she swung her hand around to knock the gun out of Dwight's hand, it making a satisfying clang as it grappled with the concrete. With a swift punch in the face, Dwight stumbled back, fumbling to retrieve the gun. Every saviour around them was ready to shoot her, to get in the final blow. Now, they were thirsted for it - her skin, her bones. Her head on a stick, maybe. She could only hope that they'd do something creative with her when she was gone.
She could almost hear them counting telepathically, all together.
One.
Two.
But the three never came, because a large, furry orange thing was leaping through the sky and bounding toward one of the saviours.
It was shiva.
Jane ducked down to the floor, feeling for the gun Dwight had dropped. She found it, as everyone seemed to occur to the chaos. People ran in every direction, screaming and shouting. Shooting, occasionally. She knew all she should've focused on was the gun, but god, she couldn't get Carl's face out of her head. Was he okay, in the middle of all this?
As her fingers intertwined with that of the trigger, a crunch brought her out of her interest for it's cold metal. The crunch of Negan's boot, claiming the weapon as his own.
"Feisty as shit, I love to see it," he said, picking up the gun as Jane kneeled on the floor. She scrambled up, trying to kick him in the shin - but he swiped, knocking her off her feet. She fell back, resulting in a second large head injury.
Spitting out the blood that gathered in her mouth, she spoke.
"You. Whin-ney.....whiny bitch. You c-can't just kill me. You can't j-just win."
He laughed, deep and throaty. He seemed so confident, yet, he still clutched his shoulder like a baby. "I've already won, darlin. Once I've killed every one of you," he got on his knees atop of her, grabbing her shoulders and knocking her against the ground continually. "I. Will. Kill. You all, and then I will kill your boyfriend, infront of you. I'll kill him slowly, and surely. Or no, maybe I'll do it quick, something that he won't expect. You won't get to say goodbye."
There it was. The worst thing he could have said.
She gathered more spit in her mouth, as it mixed with the coppery thick blood. She spat in his face, spraying it over his features like paint. He grimaced, coughing a little. He lifted one hand to wipe his eyes, which meant her arm was free from his grasp.
"He's mine."
With one swift motion, she brought her hand across his bad shoulder, swiping her fingernails into his flesh. He screamed out, falling beside her on the ground. She got up, extending her arm out - ready to swing and end it all. Where was Lucille? She didn't know, neither did he.
A round of bullets came their way, causing Jane to bounce down to the floor for what felt like the millionth time. By that time, Negan was already sprinting away, still holding his shoulder.
"Fuck!" She screamed out, looking around. The gun. He had it. Her eyes darted to the dead that had started to rise from the streets. Most walkers were saviours, which almost made her want to smile.
She went up to a nearby one, frantically checking it for anything useful after killing it. Thankfully, this saviour was fully loaded with an AR. Perfect.
She desperately picked it up, not bothering to satchel the strap around her shoulder as it hung loose in the wind. She wanted blood, and she would get it.
With no one target, she watched them all scramble away as she picked up the weapon.
He's mine.
She began to shoot them all down, heavily breathing in the air that didn't seem so clean anymore.
He's mine.
She watched as they began to fall to the ground, dead and gone. She watched as Negan cowardly climbed away, over the wall and out of sight.
He is mine.
thirty, no, maybe forty were dead now, in the hands of her. She didn't quite know what to do with herself, now that the battle was over. She looked behind her, a trail of severed hearts following close behind. She had left a marking of death - right when she had killed the man that held her unconscious body. Right when she had tried to kill Negan, and Dwight. No, maybe it started before then. At that house, in that small town. The rage. The prison. All of it. It was there, and it was loud.
Everything ached, everything. Her heart, her head, her legs, her arms. Her face.
She bled so much she thought she might fall, but instead, she stood straight, not even daring to look at anyone. It felt as if all she ever did was bleed.
She wasn't going to succumb to the pain anymore. She couldn't hide it. Because it had all come out in a flash, a quick rage. It had showed itself, even after all these years. She thought that the worst had come, back at that house. Back at Oceanside. But this was really it. Her and her own emotions had just met, and the consequences were fatal.
What have I done?
"Jane!" A voice was screaming. Her face was being stroked but she did not care for it. She didn't want it.
Until she realised the person standing in-front of her was Carol Peletier.
★
BRUH I AM CURRENTLY FINISHING THIS AT 2AM IN A TENT IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE WITH 1%. SORRY FOR THE LATE UPLOAD BUT I HAVE TO GOOOOOOOOOO I LOVE YOU ALL AND I WILL BE POSTING THE NEXT CHAP SOON 💞💞💞💞