I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand, Peaches

Poison

It was late now, the sky outside darkened.

But around the Sanctuary the usual spotlights illuminated the shadowy lots surrounding the large compound, casting a light on everything inside them.

And tonight, this included Rick Grimes.

Negan sucked on his teeth as he stood in the doorway that led out into the lot beside Simon, who had his thumbs hooked through his belt loops, surveying the situation.

"Want us to bring him inside, Boss? Lock him up?" asked the mustachioed man.

But Negan just continued to stare at Rick, who just stood there, alone and obviously angry, beside a dusty maroon sedan.

Numerous Saviours of all shapes and sizes surrounded him, guns all trained in his direction, despite the fact that he had nothing more on him that a large hunting knife at his belt.

"NEGAN!" he bellowed loudly, his eyes searching the space before him as well as they could against the spotlights that blinded him.

Negan had to admit, he had a lot of respect for him coming here, seemingly alone. And why? To get his goddamn son back?

But Negan know for a fact that if this was the other way around, and if Blake or Beansprout were in danger, that he would do exactly the same thing. Come to an enemy camp unarmed, because that was what he needed to do. Because they were the most important thing to him in this entire goddamn world.

The dark haired man gave a sigh, his mind quickly flitting over both Blake and Carl's words.

Perhaps he and Rick weren't that different after all.

And maybe...just maybe things COULD change.

"No," said Negan dragging hand down his bearded chin, finally answering the man at his side. "Let's go have a little talk to ol' Ricky-boy. See what's he got to say."

Negan re-adjusted his grip on the baseball bat in his hand.

"Oh an' go fetch his damn firstborn an' that other gal," Negan added, earning himself a frowning look from Simon.

"But, Boss-" the man at his side said in incredulous voice.

But Negan merely shot Simon down with a scowl.

"You really wanna argue with me, Simon?" asked Negan sucking hard at his teeth. "'Cause I can easily swap you out for one of those biters on that damn fence over there, if that's what you want?"

Simon offered Negan a look of pure loathing for a short moment, before this swiftly faded with a gulp. "No," he replied in a quiet voice, before turning on his heel and heading back inside without another word.

Negan's eyes followed his insubordinate right-hand man for a moment, before his gaze finally drifted back out toward the lot, and back to the person that had drawn the attention of most of his best men and women.

Shit. Just by this asshole fucking being here, Negan could feel his own reigns on this place slipping away.

Simon had always been a backstabbing piece of shit. But all it would fucking take would be one of these assholes to presume that Negan's hold on this place was slipping, and that would be it.

And sure Negan could handle it, put whatever asshole stepped out of line back in his place with the iron or similar. But something like that was the start of a very very fucking slippery slope.

The dark haired leader lifted a gloved hand, dragging it down his tired and lined face.

He knew what he fucking had to do.