The ground was soaked with blood. Not yours. Not yet. You could still feel the spray of it on your face. Glenn’s. Abraham’s. Your stomach was twisted so tight it hurt to breathe. Your knees ached against the gravel, but all you could do was stare at Rick on the ground in front of you, hands trembling, shoulders heaving. And then Negan tossed the axe at his feet. “Pick it up, Rick,” Negan grinned, eyes wild, enjoying the show. “Go on.” Rick didn’t move. He looked broken. Blood on his cheek. Tears in his eyes. Not for himself. But for Carl. For you. For all of you. Negan crouched beside him, voice low and sickeningly sweet. With a marker he draws a line on Carls arm. “Right across the forearm. There ya go. Gives you a little leverage.” Rick whimpered. “Please…” Your throat felt like it was closing up. “Stop it! Please…don’t make him…he can’t…he can’t!” Negan raised an eyebrow. “Well, well. Girlfriend’s got a voice.” He grinned at you. “You care about Rick, huh?” “You son of a bitch, stop this!” Rick was gasping now, staring at the axe like it was a loaded gun. Carl laid still, jaw tight. Brave. Solid. But Rick… he was crumbling. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t do this.” Negan leaned closer, almost nose to nose. “You want everyone to die? Just do it, Rick. Do it for them. For your girl. For your boy.” Your heart shattered in your chest as Rick’s hand reached for the handle. He looked right at you. Your voice broke. “Don’t. Please. Look at me. Rick, look at me.” His eyes met yours. You’d never seen him like that. Like a man who’d been gutted and was still breathing. “You’re not him. Rick, please.” Negan’s been talking but you ignored him as you watched Rick. Rick raised the axe shaking, sobbing, and placed his hand on Carl’s wrist. And then Negan stopped him. “Goddamn, that is a look! That right there. That’s the look i wanted Rick.”

He didn’t it. But you saw it in his eyes. He would’ve. If Negan had let it go a second longer. He would’ve done it.