ELEANOR . NEGAN

025.

[ TWO YEARS LATER ]

Eleanor was knelt down in the growing grass, large black binoculars to her eyes as they followed the thick crowd of walkers. Never once striding from the herd but yet, not moving forward. Simply just circling around in a notion like it was chasing an alive rat.

"Say about 130, 140 of 'em." Daryl mumbled as he crouched down besides Eleanor.

Jesus sighed and looked at Aaron. The group was out after Rosita came back to the Hilltop, bruised up with a head trauma after saying she lost the horses... and lost Eugene. "You ever seen them do this before?"

"No," Aaron phrased. "Never."

Daryl stoop back up and you could hear his bones crack slightly. Even in such good shape, the years were still catching up on each adult. "Rosita's backtrail goes right through 'em. We should get the horses, circle around, and then we'll pick it up on foot."

Eleanor could hear Daryl's words, but she didn't really acknowledge them. The lenses of the binoculars were stuck on the moving-still herd, her mind going a million miles a second. She tried to think of reasons why these walkers—these specific walkers, were acting like downright freaks.

"They're just... milling around." Remarked Jesus, "That's not normal."

Elle gave a half-assed laugh and finally put the binoculars down. "No, it ain't."

The wind began to pick up and the sun cowered behind large clouds, casting a shadow on Elle, Daryl, Aaron and Jesus, but also hiding the herd in a mirror of grey. "There's a storm coming." Daryl admitted, his voice gruff and scratchy. "Come on.."

He started to walk back to the path to get to the Hilltop, Aaron and Daryl's dog called Dog following afterwards. Only two left now was Jesus and Elle, the pair having something in common—they couldn't give this up.

"What'd you think?" Elle asked.

"Evolution. Maybe.."

Maybe.

Eleanor thought it was something else though. Before, when her binoculars didn't waver from the herd, she could see walkers head cock in an unnatural way—a humanly way. This isn't evolution. She figured. It's fucking people.

-

Daryl wasn't lying about a storm brewing because as soon as they reached the road, they covered themselves in raincoats and hoods to hide away from the shower of water.

Back at Alexandria, however, Negan was suffering with his own storm. That being Gabriel's weird ass therapy shit.

"Accept it, consider it, and then release it." A humming echoed across the cell. "Just let it wash over you. It's all alright—"

Fuck this. "You know what? Screw it." Negan huffed and scratched at the corner of his eye. "My mind never empties, anyway. Generally goes straight to that place that would blush the collar right off of you." He groaned uncomfortably and reached for his baseball and glove. "Although, now that you and Rosita are a thing, maybe I'm wrong. I mean..." The ball bounced back to him. "...hot damn."

Gabriel was used to Negan's antics, a lot of people were. After a while, you learn how to tune his voice out and to blank out his ludicrous words. "I want to understand why you do this. You clearly want help, I can see you trying."

"Yeah," Negan rasped. "Maybe we cooked it up, chewed it up, and shat it out already. Maybe this is all we get!"

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head lightly. "You don't feel like you're getting any benefit to our sessions?"