The Woman at The End of The World. (Daryl Dixon)

fiftyseven.

Daryl had pulled me from assisting in the cleanup of our dead and damage to our community. When he found me, I was standing over the body of the man that Negan had cut down just minutes after almost having his own hand in my death. I'm trying to make sense of how anyone could be stupid enough to fall for any of Owen's sewage and bullshit. "How does it feel that the man that was supposed to protect you, cut you down from where you stood because you befriended a coward?" I whispered, spitting on his rotting corpse. That's what happens when you trust anyone that lacks backbone and humanity. In that moment, Daryl finally grabbed my attention, asked me to follow him to Rick's house without questioning the scene he had stumbled onto.

Judith is still safely tucked away with Jamie and the other small humans at the Kingdom. I make a mental note to check in on Jamie soon. I have a feeling he's probably worried sick since Tori and I are here, knowing that we were fighting our threat at Alexandria. I need to get a message to him that we are okay.

I suck in a shaky breath as Daryl gently drags the vest off. The sounds of him setting it on the table next to us reaches my ears. I hang my head as he lifts my shirt, examining the damage. "Ya ripped the stitches, Blue." He informs me. "I'm gonna sew ya back up." I nod, listening as he leaves the Grimes house to head to the infirmary.

Taking in the moment of silence and peace, I quickly reach up, wiping the tears that are welling from behind my eyes. I could've been Sasha. Panic begins to claw at my throat, causing it to close in on itself. If he didn't let me go, I would've been the one to stumble out of the coffin. I'm still having trouble processing that he was moments away from killing me right before he saved me from meeting my death for the second time in barely five minutes. Though, Negan did not seem too keen on introducing my head to his mutated bat, even through his anger. He could've let that man kill me, and I would no longer be a festering thorn growing in his side. He knows what I'm capable of. He knows I'm Rick's favorite weapon and the wife of his right-hand man that is just merciless as I can be. He knows I'm gunning for him. Why not cut down the threat?

Anger begins to swirl around me as I remember Eugene's betrayal. He's still a coward. I know Old Abe is turning in his grave. I'm coming for you, too, mullet man, I muse. I warned you.

I peer over my shoulder hearing the door swinging open, watching Rick and Carl stalk inside. I pull the back of my shirt down and forcing down my own mixed emotions that's been dancing around me upon seeing the Grimes men enter their home. "Don't worry about it. Daryl told us that you needed patched back up." Rick waves his hand dismissively. I chew on my lip, wrapping my arms around my middle. "How are you feeling? You know you had us worried. If Dwight..." he starts to trail off his thoughts. I nod, knowing where he was going without airing his concerns.

"I don't know." I admit, "my body hurts." My blue eyes flick to the dried blood staining his shirt, then returning his face, watching as he loses more color as time ticks by. Seconds later, Daryl reappears with Maggie, Tori, Kelly, Carol, and King Ezekiel on his heels holding a first aid kit and miscellaneous medical supplies. Smirking, he knew I wanted to help our friend first. I stand, gesturing for Rick to lift his own shirt. He needs medical attention more than I do at the time being. Though I ripped open my stitches, I'm not at risk of bleeding out where I'm perched. I begin to work on removing the bullet and sewing the wound closed. I motion for Daryl to grab the paste before setting the gauze. "I made this concoction while I was recouping from Owen's attack," I explain. "It helped, but it burns like a bitch." I chuckle when Rick groans in pain the second it meets his skin. "Can't say I didn't warn you."

"I knew having a witch in our family would come in handy." Rick jokes between the pain.

I snort, "hey now, it's not all of my extensive knowledge of all things Wiccan that helped me create this little beauty. Hershel was big on natural remedies at the prison. We went over how different herbs would react together during my training sessions, he liked to pick my brain. I plan on keeping this on our shelves from here on out, officer friendly."