Shadows of Survival (The Walking Dead)

Home Sweet Home

On the side of the road, Andy tightened the last strap securing the wagon, as Lydia loaded the final supplies. The wagon was packed with provisions, and survivors were already settled in, ready to head back home. "That should do it," Lydia said, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. Andy nodded, then pulled Lydia into a quick hug. "Take care of yourself," she murmured before Lydia jumped into the wagon with the others.

Andy stepped back, joining Negan as they watched the wagon roll away. "You all be safe," Negan called out, lifting a hand in a casual wave. As the wagon trundled down the dirt road, the sound of its creaking wheels fading into the distance, Andy spotted Judith and Maggie approaching from the other direction.

Maggie's pace slowed as she neared, her gaze locking onto Negan with an intensity that was impossible to ignore. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes narrowing, her posture rigid with barely contained anger. The air between them thickened with tension, the kind that made Andy's skin prickle.

Negan noticed the change in atmosphere, and his usual bravado flickered in his eyes. "Hey, Maggie," he greeted, trying to keep things light, though it was clear from his tone he knew this wasn't going to go well.

Maggie didn't respond. She didn't blink. Her stare was icy, filled with a deep, simmering hatred that made Andy shift uncomfortably. Negan, ever the one to break the silence, tried again, his voice carrying a hint of forced cheerfulness. "I didn't escape, if that's what you're thinking." He tried to chuckle, but it fell flat. Maggie's silence was more powerful than any words she could have said.

Without another word, Maggie turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving Negan, Andy, and Judith standing there, the tension still crackling in the air like static. "Well, shit," Negan muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched Maggie's retreating figure.

Andy glanced at Negan, her brows furrowing. "The hell was that about?" she asked, her voice edged with frustration. She was tired of being kept in the dark, tired of the half-truths and whispered conversations.

Negan sighed, his usual swagger dimmed by the weight of the moment. "Nothing," he said quickly, but Andy wasn't having it.

"No," she insisted, stepping closer to him. "I'm tired of all the looks everyone keeps giving you and not knowing why. I want to know. And I want to hear it from your mouth."

Negan's gaze dropped to the ground, his usually sharp eyes dulling as he considered his response. "There's just... a lot of history there. Spilt blood, on both sides," he said, but Andy could tell he was holding back.

She pressed him further, her voice low but firm. "Who'd you hurt?" The words hung in the air between them, heavy and accusatory. She could only guess that he must have hurt someone important to these people—someone who meant the world to them. "The leader? Friend?"

Negan's reply was blunt, devoid of his usual flair. "Her husband."

Andy recoiled slightly, shock rippling through her. "Jesus Christ," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. She hadn't been expecting that. The revelation hit her hard, and for a moment, she was at a loss for words.

Negan's expression was a mix of remorse and resignation. "They came for my people first," he began, his voice rough. "I couldn't just let that go unpunished. I was just doing what I had to do back then, for my people." He paused, the weight of his past actions pressing down on him. "So, those looks they're giving me... I deserve it."

Andy didn't respond immediately, her mind spinning as she tried to process what he'd just told her. She understood more than she wanted to admit—the necessity of doing terrible things in the name of survival. She'd been with a group like that before, a group that made decisions she couldn't stomach. She'd walked away from that life. But to be the one making those calls, to be the person responsible for such a loss? That was a different kind of burden.