Future Ghosts • TWD

155. Banks.

Negan, Rosie, and Daryl all sat on a log in silence, Rosie taking up the space between the two in hopes of keeping them from trying to kill each other. The air was tense and awkward, to say the least. Rosie could practically feel it in her bones. She puffed out a breath. She wasn't sure how much longer she could take this.

While Negan was facing one way, Rosie and Daryl were facing the other. Negan took a sip of water from the canteen before twisting the cap back on. He reached over to hand it to Rosie, but seeing as she was looking the other way, she didn't notice. He tapped her arm with it. "Banks," he murmured.

Without a word, Rosie took the canteen and handed it to Daryl. It was really starting to pick at his brain that Rosie was letting Negan call her Banks. It didn't just annoy him. He hated it. He hated it with every atom, in every molecule, in every organelle, in every cell, in every tissue, in every organ, in every organ system that made up his body. He hated it. But he kept his mouth shut.

"Not to spin a broken record, but I don't think she's coming back," Negan spoke up. He was talking about Carol, Rosie knew, because Carol was who they were waiting for. Carol apparently saw Alpha's head on that spike, so Carol was going to tell them whether or not Negan was telling the truth. Rosie believed him, but she wasn't sure if Daryl would believe him even if Alpha's head was on a stick right in from of him. He didn't want to trust Negan.

Rosie didn't care if Carol came back to validate Negan's claim. She only cared that Carol came back because she was Carol. Carol was there since the beginning, in the Atlanta camo, offering Rosie some of Sophia's clothes, which Rosie always rudely declined. And on top of that, Carol was Ian's Daryl, at the moment.

Ian had it rough. He lost in mom when the Governor bombed the prison, so he ended up with Tyreese and Carol. He got really close to Tyreese just in time for Tyreese to die of walker bites. Then, Ian grew attached to Glenn and Maggie, only for Glenn to be beaten to death in front of him and for Maggie to leave only a year later. Everyone Ian had depended on was gone, except for Carol. Carol couldn't leave him, too.

So, "She's comin' back," Rosie said decidedly.

Again, Negan let out a sigh. He glanced over at Daryl. "You know, I'm... I'm not bullshitting you," he said.

And Rosie expected Daryl to scoff. She expected him to roll his eyes and get all angry, and maybe even say something like, Why the hell should I trust you after all the shit you've done?

But that wasn't what Daryl did. He sighed, too, before quietly saying, "I know."

What the hell?

If Daryl believed Negan, then what the hell were they doing waiting out in that damn field?

"When I said that I liked it..." Negan said. God, Rosie hated hearing him say that. That he liked what he did. It had to be part of the performance. Coach Smith was a good man with a good heart. Rosie was sure of it. But, "... that wasn't part of the act."

It stung. It dug a hole deep into Rosie's chest. The words felt like picking a scab. Digging your nail beneath the still-healing skin and tearing off, opening up the wound to bleed and bleed again, to sting and ache even more. She rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her forearms.

"Yeah. I know," Daryl said with a bitter quality to his voice.

His hatred ran deep. He wasn't sure if that would ever go away, no matter how many years passed. Sometimes he wished the hatred would fade, for Rosie's sake. But just looking at Negan brought back memories of kneeling in the dirt, watching the heads of his family being beaten to bits, watching Negan scare Rosie so badly she broke down into a crying, shaking, screaming mess, being locked in that cell in the Sanctuary, eating dog food on hotdog buns, the searing pain in his shoulder when he was finally able to hold Rosie again, slipping his hand beneath the door to Rosie's cell to touch her hand before leaving the Sanctuary without her. It made his chest ache. It made his skin burn and his breath hitch in his throat.